WilliamDArand
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Cavalier's Gambit -ch 9-
🕑 Added 2023-12-21 03:18:03 +0000 UTCWayne had ended up with “Helm” in his cockpit with him.
The man was most definitely burned, and severely so. His wounds had been treated as best as they could, but it was obvious he was suffering.
And badly.
He’d need to get straight into an ICU with speed or there’d be no saving him.
Wheezing, and breathing hard, the mummy-like man was draped over Wayne. His head resting on Wayne’s shoulder.
In the end, the reason he’d been chosen to carry him was his lack of a need for physical controls. He could quite literally hold onto Helm as they moved.
No one else could do that, as the lacked implants, or the mental ability to manage such a thing in a combat situation.
It only took two minutes for the VIPs to get situated into every Walker. The soldiers broke away the moment it was clear the VIPs were loaded.
Dragging their compatriots’, gear, and supplies into a nearby building. Quickly entering it and vanishing.
“Alright, fuck, ah… back the way we came,” ordered sergeant Willer. “Soon as we hit the road, we’re at full speed and gone. Straight down the road, all the way to the wall, then left till the gate.”
Everyone shuffled back, taking the turn and reaching the road.
Wayne wasn’t really having much difficulty with the situation since he didn’t need to use his hands. His Walker moved just as he willed it.
Though it looked like the others were having problems with anything requiring fine motor coordination.
Like turning smoothly.
One of the Walkers over-turned and bounced into a wall before righting their trajectory. Everyone was eventually moving down the street with a good amount of speed.
Wayne easily put his Walker into full speed as he’d been ordered and started pounding away down the street.
Up ahead, Wayne saw a white box appear in the shadow of a large building.
The readout left him feeling shaken.
“Heavy-Assault class Walker,” Wayne reported and came to an immediate stop. “White Cavalier.”
“The hell did you say?” demanded the sergeant.
A second later, a bright blue-beam cut across the street. It missed Wayne by a scant several inches, though a number of heat warnings went off across the Walker.
“Scatter,” ordered the sergeant. “Break contact and get out. Do not engage. That’s not something we can fight!
“Get to the exit ASAP!”
Even as he ordered it, everyone turned and slipped away. Vanishing into alleys, streets, and in one case, right through a small toolshed.
Wayne had decided to take an alley, then turned immediately.
There was a long manufactory building that he’d been right next to. It’d been pressed up to a string of apartment buildings.
Between the two was a narrow loading bay.
Getting his footing quickly, he went sideways and began scooting through that very same narrow passage. The front of his Walker scraping against the occasional air conditioner and tearing it out of its window fitting as he went.
Swifter than he’d feared he’d be moving, Wayne kept going.
He could hear the discharge of energy weapons. Likely as the White Cavalier hunted down the other Walkers.
Wayne was betting on it trying to track them through heat signatures or the like. Him squishing himself into this itty-bitty space would make him harder to spot and likely unexpected.
He’d found, in dodging a few of Horrace’s traps and pilots, that behaving in abnormal ways was an edge. The unexpected was always a card in Wayne’s hand.
Unfortunately it’d just never been that helpful in most things.
An air-conditioner screeched as his cockpit crushed it, then knocked it aside.
It ended up giving Wayne a wonderful view of the interior of the apartment it’d been attached to.
A dirty, squalid, and cramped place. With sleeping mats strewn about what would have been the living room.
There were at least nine that Wayne could see as he scuttled by.
Once more, he cast a silent prayer of thanks to his parents for getting him out of the Hive. The more he saw of it, the more he heard, the less he ever wanted to live here in any way.
Even the idea of being a noble or a royal family inside of the Hive sounded ridiculously horrible to him. That it’d be no better than living in a cage.
With a grunt and a shake of his head, Wayne continued on.
When exiting the other side, Wayne got down low.
He took a knee, then looked in one direction, then the other. As far as he could tell with his eye, the HUD, and normal sight, there was nothing around him that would be an issue.
Getting upright, Wayne eased himself down the side of the building. Then carefully peaked around the corner.
Which unfortunately involved exposing a great portion of his torso to view, but unfortunately the model he was in didn’t have extra sensory components. Nor did he have the luxury of leaning forward and peering out around the curved surface of the cockpit at an angle.
Back the way they’d come from, Wayne spotted the Heavy Assault Walker.
Significantly larger than the Walker he was piloting, he could see how most people would tell you it’d take two or three Combat sized Walkers to fight it.
Given how badly damaged most of the Justifiers in Wayne’s squad were, and carrying VIPs, fighting it just wasn’t an option.
The Cavalier was firing down a street. Though it didn’t seem to be landing hits, given the way it just kept firing.
Wayne hesitated, then flicked on his heat vision.
The strange beam-like weapon on the right arm was hot.
Very hot.
Hot to the point that Wayne was sure it was probably throwing warnings out.
“Sarge! I need help!” screamed someone over the coms. “They killed-someone… I forget his number, and I need help!”
Grimacing, Wayne really didn’t know how to help in this situation.
Then he had a sudden thought about Yuna.
Dropping down to a knee, Wayne checked his reserves.
He had one cell left for his laser-cannon that was unused, and the one currently in the weapon. Between the two, he definitely didn’t have enough ammo to put down that Walker.
He did have enough to bust their weapon though.
After he’d thought about it, he’d realized he had been greedy the last time he fought in Horrace’s simulation. Wayne had been aiming for a kill.
If he’d just attacked the weapon, it’d have forced the opponent to run, or to get shot at without a way to shoot back.
Lining up his crosshair on the weapon of the Cavalier, Wayne discharged the entirety of the cell in one go. Letting the shot fly, he immediately kicked the cell out with the ejection protocol.
Not waiting to see what would happen with the Walker, he turned, and began sprinting all out down the road. This time he wasn’t using the standard speeds that could be gotten with the direct controls.
Now he was doing it with individual commands for each leg.
Pumping away as if he were actually running in real life.
The clang and bang of the Walker’s heavy feet pounded loud in his ears, though not nearly as loud as his heartbeat. His heartbeat was a thundering cacophony of kinetic rounds being blasted out endlessly.
Then he realized it was both his heartbeat -and- that he was being fired at. Several tracer rounds zipped by him above and to his left side.
Several slammed into the back of his Walker. The sound of the rounds striking the armor plating loud in his ears.
A single white warning appeared that alerted him to the fact that one of the armor plates registered kinetic impacts.
Though there were no damage warnings.
Small arms fire? Damn. Maybe me leading the way like this is a distraction for everyone else to get through. I’m not exactly being stealthy.
The impressive booms of his Walker’s footfalls certified that thought as being fact.
A group of people looking in what looked a lot like thrown-together uniforms, that certainly didn’t match the Wilhast colors, shambled out of a building. They were looking every which way, as if to identify where the noise was coming from.
Which was, of course, Wayne.
Not waiting to give this group of what looked to be local terrorists as chance, Wayne ran right through them. Kicking and stomping a number dead as he bore right over them.
More small arms fire and light-weight laser shots struck the rear of his Walker.
Though someone had fired something with a bit more oomph.
Or so the new beeping that the controller chip for the left arm started to sound out warned him about. Which meant he no longer had the kinetic rifle at his disposal.
Giving a mental command to the arm to fire off a single round, he was surprised to find it responded. Except, when he tried to move the arm, it didn’t move at all.
Right, stationary turret then.
Great.
Even my right arm can move better than this, and it’s a giant laser cannon!
Growling, Wayne continued on, though he did his best to pour on the speed. To push the limits of the Justifier’s agility and ability to run.
He was suddenly reminded of running from the Karsks he’d tried to outpace.
Then his brain told him bullets and laser shots move faster than Karsks.
Pivoting on a single step, Wayne stuck his foot down, slid for quite a way longer than he expected and slammed into a fire-hydrant.
Then straight over it as it shattered under the Walker’s foot.
Jumping forward into a sprint again, Wayne shot into a different street.
There was no doubt in Wayne’s mind that there was a bullet back there with his name on it. Though it was zipping down the street to nowhere now that he wasn’t there.
Wayne kept to his blistering pace, storming along the street.
“Ah, fuck! Fuck! Help! Help me!” screamed someone.
Wayne couldn’t tell if it was over the com system or from external speakers.
Exiting the street he was on and hitting the next intersection, Wayne turned again. Turning and sprinting along once more.
Not far off to the left side, on top of a roof, was a white box that’d just snapped into reality. It was listed as an Anti-Aircraft weapon, and it was facing back the way Wayne had come.
“Sarge, anymore helicopters coming through?” Wayne asked as he ran on.
“Yes!” shouted the sergeant back. It sounded like he was panting.
Ah shit.
Wayne did something he knew he wasn’t supposed to do because it would break his ability to see where he was going. While also moving at a high rate of speed.
He tried to line up his kinetic rifle on the weapon.
The height of his Walker gave him an angle on it, the harder part was getting his reticle on it.
The laser cannon wouldn’t do much to such a large weapon emplacement.
Kinetic rounds fired into the building the weapon was on though, were likely to bring the whole damn thing down.
Wayne opened fire and worked the barrel from right to left, trying to obliterate the wall beneath the weapon. The rounds would likely carry on to a degree.
Maybe even straight into the next wall.
As he sprinted past, Wayne twisted the torso of his Walker to the point that it felt like he was practically looking backward.
There was a warning from the Walker’s system that let him know he was at the extreme limit of the turning radius of the torso.
At this moment, Wayne was happy that the cockpit had his legs inside of it, rather than inside of the legs themselves. It gave the Walker a bit of unexpected flexibility.
Firing until the magazine ran out, Wayne regretfully turned forward once again. The building hadn’t collapsed.
As he turned away, he watched as the weapon turned partially. Likely aiming in on an asset in the air coming in range.
Then the whole side of the building suddenly went outward. Collapsing under the load fluctuation from the big weapon shifting its weight.
“Hell yeah,” Wayne congratulated himself as he spun back around.
Just in time to trip over the burnt-out husk of a sedan.
Catching himself even as he tripped, Wayne slowed down for only a few steps, then started sprinting again.
“Knocked out the AA gun on this route, sarge!” Wayne called. “If they’ve got people coming this way, this route here I’m on is the way to go.”
There was no response from anyone, but Wayne couldn’t do anymore.
Ahead, he could see the large wall looming ever closer.
His exit was coming near.
As he ran on, a helicopter zoomed past him overhead. It was low and had some visual damage, but was moving swiftly.
Some type of dark liquid was spilling out of it as it went, and some of it landed just about on top of Wayne. Leaving him wondering if it was going to suddenly fall out of the sky.
Somehow, it made it out of the city and beyond the wall.
Then Wayne did so as well.
***
Groaning, Wayne leaned backward and stretched his back out.
His hands pushed into his spine on either side, and he held the pose for a few seconds. Stretching his back out as best as he could to clear the ugly knot in the small of his back.
He’d heard about this from a few people, and knew it’d been termed as Walker’s back.
Just because you could pilot a Walker, didn’t mean your spine and back wouldn’t pay a price for the heavy steps the machines took.
Supposedly it was worse with smaller Walkers than larger, since they had a lot more shock absorbers given their weight.
Then he relaxed and just stood there. Staring at the grass.
As if whatever strings had been holding his shoulders up, his attention, even his energy, were all cut. Leaving him with nothing other than a will to remain standing up and not a thought in his head.
Standing there, Wayne’s brain shut itself down and left him with nothing to ponder.
After he’d turned over Helm to the medics, he’d reported his situation to the officer who came to ask him what the hell was going on, and now he was waiting for further orders.
Or someone to just send him home.
“Five?” a voice cut into his stupor, flinching physically as if he were struck.
Looking around, Wayne found a grizzled older man that was likely in his forties walking toward him. He was wearing a uniform, had a splash of blood across his shoulder, and looked weather worn.
His hair was a short dark brown, his face clean shaven, and his eyes a flat blue color without any lights in them.
Wayne noted the name patch at his breast pocket.
It was sergeant Willer.
“Sergeant Willer,” responded Wayne, meeting the man’s eyes.
“You took that shot on the Cavalier?” demanded the sergeant.
“Yeah. Was trying to knock the cannon out. Whatever it was,” murmured Wayne. “I dumped half a cell’s charge, took the shot, ran. Sorry. I didn’t think I should stick around, given your orders.”
The sergeant seemed to be chewing that over, his mouth unmoving.
“Alright. You reported an AA gun then knocked it out. You shot the building out?” the sergeant asked.
“Yeah. Shot it out. Emptied my mag from the kinetic rifle into the building. Was no way I could knock the gun out directly,” Wayne confirmed. “You didn’t order that though… sorry.”
Once more the sergeant chewed that over without saying anything.
Finally, he threw a thumb backward. Toward what looked to be some type of tent.
“Come get some chow and a drink. Rest of the formation is there. Mission’s over,” confirmed the sergeant.
Wayne nodded, then began following along behind the sergeant. Not really thinking anything of note.
His mind was an empty cave that echoed endlessly with the far-away echoes of random thoughts.
Faintly, he had a thought that he was likely suffering some type of mental problem. That this mission was way more than he’d thought it would be and he had paid a price that he wouldn’t know the cost of any time soon.
This feeling was confirmed when he found himself standing in front of a table filled with food trays and he couldn’t decide what to do. He just stared at it.
Sergeant Willer noticed and then loaded his plate for him.
It was a near identical plate to his own. The sergeant then moved behind Wayne, put his left hand to Wayne’s back and began pushing him toward the end.
Sergeant Willer snatched up several water bottles and a six-pack of sodas. The bottles were stuffed into pockets and the six-pack held awkwardly in the hand holding the plate.
Willer got Wayne to the table, sat him down, and then put down the drinks in the middle. Several others were at the table as well.
Everyone was shoveling food into their mouths mechanically, or just sitting there not moving at all.
The sergeant snapped open a soda, unscrewed the top of a water bottle, then set both in front of Wayne. Then he pulled out utensils he’d stuffed into his pocket and dropped them in front of Wayne.
“Drink the soda, eat, then drink the water,” ordered the sergeant. “Last order I’m giving you as your officer. Beyond that, schedule time with the contracted therapist after this.
“Might be worth nothing, might be worth everything. Better to at least give it a shot than to push it off like you don’t need it at all.
“Got all that?”
Wayne nodded mechanically and then took the soda.
He was glad to be given a direction. Something to latch onto.
The flavor of the soda didn’t register as anything, but Wayne drank it all.
Once that was done, he started to work at the food. Picking up the fork and just filling his mouth, chewing, swallowing, and repeating the motion.
Seeing nothing at all and staring at the table without ever actually seeing it. The mechanical process of putting food in his belly interspersed with water.
All under the watchful eye of the sergeant, the remnants of Wayne’s squad, finished their mission.
Comments
Christopher Gino
Damn PTSD… hope Wayne is able to start getting treatment ASAP from the contracted therapist.
Nukin Futs
Damn, free running in what I would guess is a 30ton sounds like more than a sore back, esp with a buddy in the cab.
