[FIC] Chip Off The Old Block, part 3 (Ch. Y+7)
Posted: Sun Feb 22, 2004 7:46 pm
He couldn’t help himself. The pilot found himself feeling a grudging respect for the kid. True, the magnificent machine was doing the work---but, the boy was showing inborn talent. Naturally, he had found himself respecting his foe on a number of occasions in the past, as well. That had never kept him from snuffing them out on the spot.
By the odds alone, there was no way that one Arm Slave could continue to evade three others. Watching as groups of people ran or drove out onto the runway area, the pilot knew the helicopter would be taking off fairly soon. Before the sands in the hourglass ran out, I want to see that little shit’s luck run out!
It looked as if his wish were to be granted. Three aisles between towering stacks of equipment led to one corner of the hangar. An X-8 now sat at the mouth of each aisle. The Halberd was backed into the corner. “No way out now, kiddo! It’s been a good run. Look on the bright side…you won’t have to go to school anymore….”
One of the other JSDF mechas launched a pair of missiles at the Mithril craft. The pilot cursed. “Damn your bloody carcass to Hell. He’s mine!” There were not enough rounds left in the gatling gun to support a prolonged duel. But, there ought to be enough to bring that little f@ck down!. Pressing the trigger, he added to the firepower concentrated on the HBD-5.
A loud noise could be heard behind the X-8s. A pair of large doors had been pushed open. An armored vehicle headed in their direction. It stopped. Stunned, or fixated on the Halberd, none of the A.S. pilots fired as a man jumped out of the driver’s hatch and disappeared inside the turret. One X-8 turned to face the new foe, bringing up its portable cannon. Its operator had waited too long.
The pilot kept his attention on the boy and his machine. The HBD-5 was firing back with its Bofors, concentrating on the other X-8. Perfect!
He had spoken too soon. At the same time shrapnel bounced past his view screens from behind, the glowing blue cloud of light reappeared around the Mithril A.S.
************************************************************
Sparks were flying around inside of the HBD-5 now. Threat alarms were screaming for attention and the % function on the Arm Slaves limbs, servos, and power plant were steadily dropping. Blood dripped down from a cut on Moto’s forhead, obscuring the vision in one eye. He did not have the time to wipe it away.
His gatling gun ran out quickly. He took a number of missile hits while bring out the Bofors, the Halberd falling down to one knee under the unrelenting punishment. After placing a number of solid hits on his opponent, Moto felt close to tears when he saw the portable cannon fractured by return fire. Something else was moving on one of the view screens. He couldn’t spare it any attention.
He was too close to use his missiles. There was no time to get out the cutter or Anti-Armor dagger. Running would accomplish little, but he had no other options left. If he could knock down one X-8, and run free down its aisle, he might prolong this game a little longer. “A.I., YOU AREN”T DOING YOUR JOB. I’M JUST A KID AND I’M FIGHTING. A.I.!!!”
A stray thought passed through Moto’s head, just as time seemed to be slowing down. I REALLY have to go to the bathroom. BAD!!! How come they never show THAT in any of the action movies or video games???
LAMBDA DRIVER CAPACITY COMING BACK ON LINE. ARM SLAVE STATUS SEVERE, NEARING CRITICAL. SHIELD STRENGTH RISING
The blue light was back. The panel was back. Moto’s hope returned as well. He didn’t know how long the quirky system would stay on line this time, but he meant to make the most of it. With a somewhat less stressful atmosphere surrounding him, he took notice of the new arrival to the battlefield. It was an Anti-Aircraft vehicle. He could not place the designation, but didn’t care at that moment. It was on HIS side. The HBD-5 stopped in its tracks momentarily, as Moto took a moment to clap his hands. One of the X-8s had been brought down with extreme prejudice.
“A.I., highlight weapons buttons. Red light for rockets…blue light for monomolecular cutter…green light for Anti-Armor dagger. Do it now.”
DONE.
Charging at one X-8, Moto pushed the button for the Anti-Armor dagger. His mind working quickly, he decided on a course of action. His own safety was not his highest concern at the moment. There was no way that he could consider any of his actions a success if a single bad guy escaped. He would deal that X-8 pain in passing, but he wanted to find that helicopter and do it wrong.
With a powerful downward swing, the HBD-5 brought down its Anti-Armor dagger dead center in the chest of the doomed JSDF Arm Slave. Moto left the dagger behind, not knowing that its blade had pierced the pilot the way a pin does a butterfly on a display board. Looking in his rear view screen, he saw that the final X-8 was following his footsteps, thirty yards back or thereabouts. Stacks of supplies were shredded alongside the X-8 as the unseen A.A. vehicle continued to fire.
WARNING. SYSTEMS SHUTDOWN IMMINENT. LAMBDA DRIVER UNSTABLE. SHIELDS WILL BE DOWN IN TEN SECONDS……NINE……EIGHT……
“Dammit!” Moto blushed, taken by surprise by his own outburst. But, it was justified. Not only was there an X-8 on his six, he caught sight of two newcomers joining the fight. All this, just as the blasted Lambda Driver system was announcing its next seizure.
……FIVE……FOUR……THREE……
Moto had chosen an arcing path, to give him a better view of the Mi-26. The two fresh X-8s were not following. In fact, they were heading directly for the helicopter. Moto realized why. The helicopter’s rotors were a blur. Its wheels hopped a few inches above the runway…settled back down…and hopped again. The surviving enemy forces were about to make their break for it.
“Not if I can help it.”
……TWO……ONE……LAMBDA DRIVER SHUTDOWN
Moto pushed the button outlined by red light. A grid came up on his HUD that described various flight paths available; listed wind and atmospheric conditions; and suggested various probabilities of success for various firing stratagems. Working the chairside mouse, he brought his cursor over to one option and left-clicked twice.
There was a slight jolt as two Hasta missiles launched. The two new generation hypervelocity weapons screamed as they closed on the target helicopter. Moto strove to keep from thinking about the number of casualties when he saw the Mi-26 come apart like a model copter packed with M-80s.
There was no time to celebrate victory. The last thing he remembered was tumbling over and over again.
************************************************************
This was almost too much to take. First the damn thing is vulnerable. Then the damn cloak of invulnerability appears out of nowhere. Then it’s vulnerable again. And then not. The pilot had long used up every off-color word he knew.
A violent man by profession, he had nevertheless looked down on anyone who had shown himself to be morbidly attracted to torture or pain. Until today. He could almost understand how those types of people felt. He cursed the vagaries of fate. He put the black mark on himself. His earlier though danced about his mind, shaking its figurative finger in his face.
Besides, what harm could a small child do?
The Halberd had been on the verge of being brought down like an antelope bitten in the neck by a lioness. Then, the damned Lambda Driver system came to life again. Now, an armored vehicle on his tail, he followed after the HBD-5, hoping the defensive system would go on the fritz. The pilot counted what little blessings he had left. At least that f@cking brat never learned how to use the stupid thing offensively.
He bowed his head a moment as he passed by a fallen X-8, its pilot compartment pierced grotesquely by a large dagger. Another comrade down. He himself was not about to be defeated by a child. He would lay that boy’s death on his fellow pilots’ graves in place of flowers. “I SWEAR IT!!!”
The pilot hit a switch that added a filter to the view screen as his X-8 ran out into the bright sun. He watched with a sense of detachment as two missiles fired from the Halberd, leaving smoke trails behind. Before he could blink twice, the helicopter had been blown asunder. Flaming rotor fragments arced across his field of vision as the largest intact portions of fuselage compacted themselves against the unyielding ground, setting of a serious of explosions.
More graves. More comrades in need of justice.
“YES!!!” His faith had been well placed. The glowing shield was gone again. He had a clear shot at the rear of the stationary HBD-5. Two other X-8s had passed him by, but were not orienting on the prey. “Thank you. He’s MINE!!!”
He fired his two remaining missiles. His aim had been exemplary. A large smile broke out on his face as he saw the closely placed explosions throw the Mithril Arm Slave into a series of rolls. With a great deal of relish, he armed his X-8 with its own Anti-Armor dagger. One stab for each of the fallen!
His heart race increased steadily with each step his A.S. took towards his adversary. The HBD-5 was not moving. There would be no miracle shield this time.
Spanggg spanggg spanggg spanggg WHAMMM WHAMMM.
“Wha…”
************************************************************
Sousuke rode the adrenalin wave until he threatened to wipe out. Throwing the vehicle into a mad rush, he had burst through the metal doors. Careening the Type 87 against large metal shelving units, he caused a thunderous cascade of supplies and equipment in his wake. At one point, rather than slowing down for a tedious series of turns, he burst straight through on large rack. He only hoped that the gun barrels would not be damaged. This was NOT Driver’s Ed. There was no time for hand signals or safe driving. The only test he wanted to pass was the final exam for Saving Moto 101.
If he had a driver, and were sitting in the gunners station, he would have taken shots at the armored cars and trucks he saw heading out of the hangar. They very well could be carrying ATGMs that could be a threat to himself or his son. They were not a priority target under the circumstances.
Two men in mechanics overalls rushed straight into his path, turning in horror. Sousuke hardly felt a bump as he squashed them beneath his treads. I certainly hope they were the enemy! A speeding jeep, with only one occupant, met a similar fate when it drove out from behing one large wall of crates. Sousuke cursed. He couldn’t afford to throw a track as a result of a collision.
Turning one corner, he caught sight of a scene that took his breath away. The HBD-5 was cornered. There was an X-8 between him and Moto, and visible gun barrels from at least two more. Without applying the brakes or downshifting, Sousuke pulled himself out of the driver’s hatch. Leaping and climbing, he felt something in his groin pull as he made his way in a rush to the gunner’s station. Ignoring the pain, he sighted his twin cannons as the vehicle slowed to a halt.
ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk chinggg chinggg chinggg chinggg chinggg chinggg…. The dual 35mm guns fired at a fearsome clip, sending a double spray of shell casings ricocheting off the surrounding wall and stacks.
Sousuke grunted with satisfaction as the targeted X-8 began throwing off small pieces of metal, and then lost one mechanical arm and both legs. No time to savor his small victory. He had to move to a point where he could see a suitable target. Sliding down to the armored deck, Sousuke grimaced in pain as he landed. Engine roaring, the Type 87 began its forward approach once more.
Head raised above the hatch opening, he saw the Halberd begin to wither under fire, but Moto was fighting back gamely. The Bofors was destroyed, and Sousuke knew the A.S. was effectively defenseless in its current location. He didn’t have a clear enough view to be of any assistance. Please. I don’t want to witness the death of my son!
The HBD-5 began to move. The Lambda Driver came back on line! Moto’s machine ran out of Sousuke’s view. An X-8 strode quickly into view, but disappeared as it followed after the Halberd.. Sousuke hoped that the glowing shiled would hold up. If it didn’t, he would have some words to say with Mithril mechanics when all of this was finished. He would bring a large stick with him if anything happened to Moto.
An X-8 sporting a huge blade in its chest blocked his path. There was no time to look for an alternate route. He would have to risk climbing over it. If the fallen machine was not as bad off as it seemed, he may be in for some trouble. Dark exhaust shot out of vents on the armored vehicles rear deck as Sousuke gunned the engine after making initial contact with the obstructing A.S. After a series of bumps and bounces, and a drastic angle of ascent and descent, he slid the Type 87 through the corner of a large pyramid of waste oil barrels, aiming his vehicle for the open hangar doors.
“Damn!!!” Sousuke caught sight of two more X-8s. Swerving his vehicle for a moment, he took a look into the hangar area behind him. “Good!” No additional mechas in sight. As soon as he ran out into the open, he stopped the Type 87 abruptly and changed positions once again. He felt like cheering as he saw the HBD-5 launch two missiles and bring the Mi-26 down hard. His heart was in his throat when he saw the Lambda Driver shield go down. “Just a moment more!” He shouted, firing on the X-8 heading for Moto. His shots came to late to prevent the launch of two missiles.
The HBD-5 was down. The X-8 approached, Anti-Armor dagger raised. Seeing red, Sousuke emptied both cannons on the JSDF Arm Slave, watching it smoke and quickly explode.
“Moto!”
He had himself to worry about as well. Helicopter down, and a perceived threat sighted, the two remaining active X-8s brought their weapons to bear on the Type 87. Sousuke knew his time was up. He whispered quietly to himself. “Kaname. Moto. Tomoe. Shusaku.”
Cement jumped up in large chunks in front of the enemy mechas. Two Halberds were firing from the air, descending at a rapid rate, their ECS now turned off. Two more HBD-5s had hit the ground running, their long range flying wings discarded. Caught by surprise, the X-8 pilots did not have time to raise their machines’ arms in surrender before the fire from the four Mithril craft found their mark. There would be very little of the bodies left for identification purposes.
Not too much later, two Mithril troop helicopters popped into view, escorted by a flight of six anti-tank copters. Jets roared overhead, fresh from their victory against the air arm of the marauding forces.
“Better late than never.” Sousuke said somewhat sourly, as he jumped to the ground and started limping towards his son’s Arm Slave.
************************************************************
Moto heard himself groaning. It caught him by surprise, until he remembered just what he had gone through. Someone was shining a light into his eyes, one at a time. The obnoxious odor of smelling salts lingered in his nostrils.
Opening his eyes voluntarily, he saw a crowd of strangers, all of whom smiled or applauded when they saw he was OK. His head moving from side to side, Moto caught sight of the one person he most wanted to see.
“Father! Father, you’re still alive.” Moto couldn’t help himself. The tears fell unprompted.
Sousuke himself was not one for tears. There were few time in his life when he had cried. His arms wrapped carefully around his son, this was one of those times.
“Moto, how are you feeling. What can the medical team do for you?” Sousuke knew it was almost a pointless question, given the state his boy must be in---but, it gave him a chance to judge his faculties. It gave his son the opportunity to see that his father was deeply concerned for his welfare.
“Father…I REALLY need to pee!”
************************************************************
The doctors reassured everyone that Moto was fine. He would not need to be hospitalized for observation. Sousuke was in considerable more pain than his son, but nothing could be done for him except for rest, pain killers, and an appointment for physical therapy. There had been very few friendly casualties in the hijack attempt. The enemy, in stark contrast, filled a large number of body bags.
Collateral damage was an entirely different matter. Given the enormity of the crisis, no one was tempted to speak on that topic, today. Fortunately, no part of the base exhibited severe enough damage necessitating it be shut down.
The events would certainly cause base personnel, and the upper brass of the JSDF, to think long and hard about base security. The folks in C&C and Intel at Mithril would no doubt be burning the midnight oil as well. But, for the moment, it was a time to rejoice in the kind glow of Fate. It was a time to celebrate heroes, young and old. As Mithril was no longer a covert agency jealously guarding its identity, Sousuke had no trump card to play. There would be no way to keep things out of the news.
It wasn’t as if Sousuke was going to lie to Kaname, or ask their son to keep his mouth shut. When Kaname saw Moto’s bruises and scrapes, she would pounce on his father like a cat on a mouse. No, the danger lay in the power of repitition. If the story showed up on every channel---every minute for hours on end---Sousuke knew exactly what sort of steam Kaname would build up. He was safer in the Type 87, caught square in the crosshairs of two enemy X-8s.
Debriefing could wait for the next morning. The base commander, himself still groggy, graciously allowed Sousuke and Moto to return to the comfort---and relative safety---of their own home. Convincing himself that he was not delaying matters, but was rather rewarding his son’s bravery and successful actions, Sousuke took his son to their favorite ice cream shop. Moto chose a syrup-covered concoction larger than his head. His father smiled, watching him eat until he couldn’t take another bite.
They both drove home in silence, too exhausted to speak. Sousuke paid extra attention to the road, knowing that more deaths occurred on the highway than did in A.S. battles. Glancing over at his son, who had fallen asleep, he smiled as he remembered something that Moto once said as they drove home from pre-school:
”Moto, Father can’t pay too much attention to you now. Driving a car is a very important mission. Great caution is called for. Most accidents occur within twenty-five miles of the home.”
“Father, does that mean twenty-five miles from where we live now?”
“Yes, Moto.”
“Father, why don’t we move then?”
After parking the car, Sousuke took Moto up into his arms. He wondered what his son might be dreaming. How could anything be more exciting than the adventure he lived through today. On a serious note, he wondered what scars would be left behind emotionally, if any. He would talk to a combat psychologist at Mithril and see what advice he or she might have to offer.
Sousuke stopped at the foot of the stairway leading up the hill to his home. A variant on the old adage came to mind. Most injuries take place within twenty five steps of where I now stand. Squaring his shoulders, he went on to face the inevitable.
Nearing the top of the stairs, the front door opened. Tomoe’s and Shusaku’s heads poked out. Kaname stood in the center of the doorway. She looked at Moto, and then at Sousuke. Her face was drawn. Both hands were on her hips at first, but reached outward when Sosuke brought their eldest son near.
“Is he OK, Sousuke?” Kaname’s voice cracked. Sousuke recognized that inflection. It was the ‘I’m scared, because I know something, but haven’t been given too many details’ voice. “I received a phone call from the base saying something happened. They said you both were on the way home. The news showed….” She needed to catch her breath. “The news showed destroyed vehicles and body bags. The Halberd. The Halberd was down, smoking.”
“He’ll be fine, Kaname. He’s exhausted.”
“Were you injured in the Halberd, Sousuke? I don’t see any bandages.”
Sousuke stood quietly for a few moments. “I was not in the A.S., Kaname.” Sousuke’s posture and voice would have given nothing away to any person on earth…except for his wife. “I was unconscious at first. Then, I came to the Halberd’s rescue, just as Mithril troops came to mine.” Kaname began to get suspicious. The only thing that held her back was the absolute absurdity of her thought.
Kaname took Moto from Sousuke’s grasp, cradling her son in her arms. His eyes opened.
“Please don’t get angry at Father, Mother. We won.” Moto’s voice was quiet, but strong. Snuggling close against his mother’s warmth, he quickly fell back to sleep.
Kaname turned towards Sousuke, the narrowing of her eyes not hiding the bonfire growing within. She silently mouthed the word 'we.' She spoke very slowly and very deliberately. “Sousuke….who….was….in….the….Halberd.?”
“Here, hand Moto over to me. He must be getting heavy in your arms. Let’s tuck him into bed. Then you can give me a long deep kiss. I’ve been thinking about that all day.” Sousuke took Moto back into his arms. “I’ll tell you all about things. Maybe we should wait until the kids are asleep, and you and I can sit together in the soaking tub. I have a rather nasty groin pull, and can certainly use some tender ministrations.”
Kaname’s expression did not change. She didn’t take a single step following Sousuke, who had just started into the foyer. “Sousuke…WHO….was….in….the….Halberd?”
Sousuke stopped. He answered in a very quiet voice “Moto was.”
“Tomoe, Shusaku, go jump into your beds!” Kaname gave her youngest two children quick pecks on the cheeks before patting them on their rumps.
“Uh Oh, Daddy’s in big trouble again…” Tomoe sang.
“Oh oh, Dada’s bitrubba…” Shusaku mimicked, tripping over the footies on his nightwear.
Kaname followed silently behind Sousuke as he carried Moto into his room and put him to bed. When they walked out, Kaname gave Sousuke a short kiss on the lips.
Sousuke raised his eyebrows, a slight feeling of hope rising up within.
“Before you get down to business and tell me everything that happened today…before the stop at the ice cream shop…let me tell you that that kiss might be the last one you get for a while. And Sousuke….” Kaname’s face was unreadable.
“Yes, Kaname?” There was a growing lump in Sousuke’s throat.
“About that groin injury. It’s OK. You won’t be needing anything down there for a few weeks.” Walking closer, she added “Minimum!”
************************************************************
The End
By the odds alone, there was no way that one Arm Slave could continue to evade three others. Watching as groups of people ran or drove out onto the runway area, the pilot knew the helicopter would be taking off fairly soon. Before the sands in the hourglass ran out, I want to see that little shit’s luck run out!
It looked as if his wish were to be granted. Three aisles between towering stacks of equipment led to one corner of the hangar. An X-8 now sat at the mouth of each aisle. The Halberd was backed into the corner. “No way out now, kiddo! It’s been a good run. Look on the bright side…you won’t have to go to school anymore….”
One of the other JSDF mechas launched a pair of missiles at the Mithril craft. The pilot cursed. “Damn your bloody carcass to Hell. He’s mine!” There were not enough rounds left in the gatling gun to support a prolonged duel. But, there ought to be enough to bring that little f@ck down!. Pressing the trigger, he added to the firepower concentrated on the HBD-5.
A loud noise could be heard behind the X-8s. A pair of large doors had been pushed open. An armored vehicle headed in their direction. It stopped. Stunned, or fixated on the Halberd, none of the A.S. pilots fired as a man jumped out of the driver’s hatch and disappeared inside the turret. One X-8 turned to face the new foe, bringing up its portable cannon. Its operator had waited too long.
The pilot kept his attention on the boy and his machine. The HBD-5 was firing back with its Bofors, concentrating on the other X-8. Perfect!
He had spoken too soon. At the same time shrapnel bounced past his view screens from behind, the glowing blue cloud of light reappeared around the Mithril A.S.
************************************************************
Sparks were flying around inside of the HBD-5 now. Threat alarms were screaming for attention and the % function on the Arm Slaves limbs, servos, and power plant were steadily dropping. Blood dripped down from a cut on Moto’s forhead, obscuring the vision in one eye. He did not have the time to wipe it away.
His gatling gun ran out quickly. He took a number of missile hits while bring out the Bofors, the Halberd falling down to one knee under the unrelenting punishment. After placing a number of solid hits on his opponent, Moto felt close to tears when he saw the portable cannon fractured by return fire. Something else was moving on one of the view screens. He couldn’t spare it any attention.
He was too close to use his missiles. There was no time to get out the cutter or Anti-Armor dagger. Running would accomplish little, but he had no other options left. If he could knock down one X-8, and run free down its aisle, he might prolong this game a little longer. “A.I., YOU AREN”T DOING YOUR JOB. I’M JUST A KID AND I’M FIGHTING. A.I.!!!”
A stray thought passed through Moto’s head, just as time seemed to be slowing down. I REALLY have to go to the bathroom. BAD!!! How come they never show THAT in any of the action movies or video games???
LAMBDA DRIVER CAPACITY COMING BACK ON LINE. ARM SLAVE STATUS SEVERE, NEARING CRITICAL. SHIELD STRENGTH RISING
The blue light was back. The panel was back. Moto’s hope returned as well. He didn’t know how long the quirky system would stay on line this time, but he meant to make the most of it. With a somewhat less stressful atmosphere surrounding him, he took notice of the new arrival to the battlefield. It was an Anti-Aircraft vehicle. He could not place the designation, but didn’t care at that moment. It was on HIS side. The HBD-5 stopped in its tracks momentarily, as Moto took a moment to clap his hands. One of the X-8s had been brought down with extreme prejudice.
“A.I., highlight weapons buttons. Red light for rockets…blue light for monomolecular cutter…green light for Anti-Armor dagger. Do it now.”
DONE.
Charging at one X-8, Moto pushed the button for the Anti-Armor dagger. His mind working quickly, he decided on a course of action. His own safety was not his highest concern at the moment. There was no way that he could consider any of his actions a success if a single bad guy escaped. He would deal that X-8 pain in passing, but he wanted to find that helicopter and do it wrong.
With a powerful downward swing, the HBD-5 brought down its Anti-Armor dagger dead center in the chest of the doomed JSDF Arm Slave. Moto left the dagger behind, not knowing that its blade had pierced the pilot the way a pin does a butterfly on a display board. Looking in his rear view screen, he saw that the final X-8 was following his footsteps, thirty yards back or thereabouts. Stacks of supplies were shredded alongside the X-8 as the unseen A.A. vehicle continued to fire.
WARNING. SYSTEMS SHUTDOWN IMMINENT. LAMBDA DRIVER UNSTABLE. SHIELDS WILL BE DOWN IN TEN SECONDS……NINE……EIGHT……
“Dammit!” Moto blushed, taken by surprise by his own outburst. But, it was justified. Not only was there an X-8 on his six, he caught sight of two newcomers joining the fight. All this, just as the blasted Lambda Driver system was announcing its next seizure.
……FIVE……FOUR……THREE……
Moto had chosen an arcing path, to give him a better view of the Mi-26. The two fresh X-8s were not following. In fact, they were heading directly for the helicopter. Moto realized why. The helicopter’s rotors were a blur. Its wheels hopped a few inches above the runway…settled back down…and hopped again. The surviving enemy forces were about to make their break for it.
“Not if I can help it.”
……TWO……ONE……LAMBDA DRIVER SHUTDOWN
Moto pushed the button outlined by red light. A grid came up on his HUD that described various flight paths available; listed wind and atmospheric conditions; and suggested various probabilities of success for various firing stratagems. Working the chairside mouse, he brought his cursor over to one option and left-clicked twice.
There was a slight jolt as two Hasta missiles launched. The two new generation hypervelocity weapons screamed as they closed on the target helicopter. Moto strove to keep from thinking about the number of casualties when he saw the Mi-26 come apart like a model copter packed with M-80s.
There was no time to celebrate victory. The last thing he remembered was tumbling over and over again.
************************************************************
This was almost too much to take. First the damn thing is vulnerable. Then the damn cloak of invulnerability appears out of nowhere. Then it’s vulnerable again. And then not. The pilot had long used up every off-color word he knew.
A violent man by profession, he had nevertheless looked down on anyone who had shown himself to be morbidly attracted to torture or pain. Until today. He could almost understand how those types of people felt. He cursed the vagaries of fate. He put the black mark on himself. His earlier though danced about his mind, shaking its figurative finger in his face.
Besides, what harm could a small child do?
The Halberd had been on the verge of being brought down like an antelope bitten in the neck by a lioness. Then, the damned Lambda Driver system came to life again. Now, an armored vehicle on his tail, he followed after the HBD-5, hoping the defensive system would go on the fritz. The pilot counted what little blessings he had left. At least that f@cking brat never learned how to use the stupid thing offensively.
He bowed his head a moment as he passed by a fallen X-8, its pilot compartment pierced grotesquely by a large dagger. Another comrade down. He himself was not about to be defeated by a child. He would lay that boy’s death on his fellow pilots’ graves in place of flowers. “I SWEAR IT!!!”
The pilot hit a switch that added a filter to the view screen as his X-8 ran out into the bright sun. He watched with a sense of detachment as two missiles fired from the Halberd, leaving smoke trails behind. Before he could blink twice, the helicopter had been blown asunder. Flaming rotor fragments arced across his field of vision as the largest intact portions of fuselage compacted themselves against the unyielding ground, setting of a serious of explosions.
More graves. More comrades in need of justice.
“YES!!!” His faith had been well placed. The glowing shield was gone again. He had a clear shot at the rear of the stationary HBD-5. Two other X-8s had passed him by, but were not orienting on the prey. “Thank you. He’s MINE!!!”
He fired his two remaining missiles. His aim had been exemplary. A large smile broke out on his face as he saw the closely placed explosions throw the Mithril Arm Slave into a series of rolls. With a great deal of relish, he armed his X-8 with its own Anti-Armor dagger. One stab for each of the fallen!
His heart race increased steadily with each step his A.S. took towards his adversary. The HBD-5 was not moving. There would be no miracle shield this time.
Spanggg spanggg spanggg spanggg WHAMMM WHAMMM.
“Wha…”
************************************************************
Sousuke rode the adrenalin wave until he threatened to wipe out. Throwing the vehicle into a mad rush, he had burst through the metal doors. Careening the Type 87 against large metal shelving units, he caused a thunderous cascade of supplies and equipment in his wake. At one point, rather than slowing down for a tedious series of turns, he burst straight through on large rack. He only hoped that the gun barrels would not be damaged. This was NOT Driver’s Ed. There was no time for hand signals or safe driving. The only test he wanted to pass was the final exam for Saving Moto 101.
If he had a driver, and were sitting in the gunners station, he would have taken shots at the armored cars and trucks he saw heading out of the hangar. They very well could be carrying ATGMs that could be a threat to himself or his son. They were not a priority target under the circumstances.
Two men in mechanics overalls rushed straight into his path, turning in horror. Sousuke hardly felt a bump as he squashed them beneath his treads. I certainly hope they were the enemy! A speeding jeep, with only one occupant, met a similar fate when it drove out from behing one large wall of crates. Sousuke cursed. He couldn’t afford to throw a track as a result of a collision.
Turning one corner, he caught sight of a scene that took his breath away. The HBD-5 was cornered. There was an X-8 between him and Moto, and visible gun barrels from at least two more. Without applying the brakes or downshifting, Sousuke pulled himself out of the driver’s hatch. Leaping and climbing, he felt something in his groin pull as he made his way in a rush to the gunner’s station. Ignoring the pain, he sighted his twin cannons as the vehicle slowed to a halt.
ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk ChChunk chinggg chinggg chinggg chinggg chinggg chinggg…. The dual 35mm guns fired at a fearsome clip, sending a double spray of shell casings ricocheting off the surrounding wall and stacks.
Sousuke grunted with satisfaction as the targeted X-8 began throwing off small pieces of metal, and then lost one mechanical arm and both legs. No time to savor his small victory. He had to move to a point where he could see a suitable target. Sliding down to the armored deck, Sousuke grimaced in pain as he landed. Engine roaring, the Type 87 began its forward approach once more.
Head raised above the hatch opening, he saw the Halberd begin to wither under fire, but Moto was fighting back gamely. The Bofors was destroyed, and Sousuke knew the A.S. was effectively defenseless in its current location. He didn’t have a clear enough view to be of any assistance. Please. I don’t want to witness the death of my son!
The HBD-5 began to move. The Lambda Driver came back on line! Moto’s machine ran out of Sousuke’s view. An X-8 strode quickly into view, but disappeared as it followed after the Halberd.. Sousuke hoped that the glowing shiled would hold up. If it didn’t, he would have some words to say with Mithril mechanics when all of this was finished. He would bring a large stick with him if anything happened to Moto.
An X-8 sporting a huge blade in its chest blocked his path. There was no time to look for an alternate route. He would have to risk climbing over it. If the fallen machine was not as bad off as it seemed, he may be in for some trouble. Dark exhaust shot out of vents on the armored vehicles rear deck as Sousuke gunned the engine after making initial contact with the obstructing A.S. After a series of bumps and bounces, and a drastic angle of ascent and descent, he slid the Type 87 through the corner of a large pyramid of waste oil barrels, aiming his vehicle for the open hangar doors.
“Damn!!!” Sousuke caught sight of two more X-8s. Swerving his vehicle for a moment, he took a look into the hangar area behind him. “Good!” No additional mechas in sight. As soon as he ran out into the open, he stopped the Type 87 abruptly and changed positions once again. He felt like cheering as he saw the HBD-5 launch two missiles and bring the Mi-26 down hard. His heart was in his throat when he saw the Lambda Driver shield go down. “Just a moment more!” He shouted, firing on the X-8 heading for Moto. His shots came to late to prevent the launch of two missiles.
The HBD-5 was down. The X-8 approached, Anti-Armor dagger raised. Seeing red, Sousuke emptied both cannons on the JSDF Arm Slave, watching it smoke and quickly explode.
“Moto!”
He had himself to worry about as well. Helicopter down, and a perceived threat sighted, the two remaining active X-8s brought their weapons to bear on the Type 87. Sousuke knew his time was up. He whispered quietly to himself. “Kaname. Moto. Tomoe. Shusaku.”
Cement jumped up in large chunks in front of the enemy mechas. Two Halberds were firing from the air, descending at a rapid rate, their ECS now turned off. Two more HBD-5s had hit the ground running, their long range flying wings discarded. Caught by surprise, the X-8 pilots did not have time to raise their machines’ arms in surrender before the fire from the four Mithril craft found their mark. There would be very little of the bodies left for identification purposes.
Not too much later, two Mithril troop helicopters popped into view, escorted by a flight of six anti-tank copters. Jets roared overhead, fresh from their victory against the air arm of the marauding forces.
“Better late than never.” Sousuke said somewhat sourly, as he jumped to the ground and started limping towards his son’s Arm Slave.
************************************************************
Moto heard himself groaning. It caught him by surprise, until he remembered just what he had gone through. Someone was shining a light into his eyes, one at a time. The obnoxious odor of smelling salts lingered in his nostrils.
Opening his eyes voluntarily, he saw a crowd of strangers, all of whom smiled or applauded when they saw he was OK. His head moving from side to side, Moto caught sight of the one person he most wanted to see.
“Father! Father, you’re still alive.” Moto couldn’t help himself. The tears fell unprompted.
Sousuke himself was not one for tears. There were few time in his life when he had cried. His arms wrapped carefully around his son, this was one of those times.
“Moto, how are you feeling. What can the medical team do for you?” Sousuke knew it was almost a pointless question, given the state his boy must be in---but, it gave him a chance to judge his faculties. It gave his son the opportunity to see that his father was deeply concerned for his welfare.
“Father…I REALLY need to pee!”
************************************************************
The doctors reassured everyone that Moto was fine. He would not need to be hospitalized for observation. Sousuke was in considerable more pain than his son, but nothing could be done for him except for rest, pain killers, and an appointment for physical therapy. There had been very few friendly casualties in the hijack attempt. The enemy, in stark contrast, filled a large number of body bags.
Collateral damage was an entirely different matter. Given the enormity of the crisis, no one was tempted to speak on that topic, today. Fortunately, no part of the base exhibited severe enough damage necessitating it be shut down.
The events would certainly cause base personnel, and the upper brass of the JSDF, to think long and hard about base security. The folks in C&C and Intel at Mithril would no doubt be burning the midnight oil as well. But, for the moment, it was a time to rejoice in the kind glow of Fate. It was a time to celebrate heroes, young and old. As Mithril was no longer a covert agency jealously guarding its identity, Sousuke had no trump card to play. There would be no way to keep things out of the news.
It wasn’t as if Sousuke was going to lie to Kaname, or ask their son to keep his mouth shut. When Kaname saw Moto’s bruises and scrapes, she would pounce on his father like a cat on a mouse. No, the danger lay in the power of repitition. If the story showed up on every channel---every minute for hours on end---Sousuke knew exactly what sort of steam Kaname would build up. He was safer in the Type 87, caught square in the crosshairs of two enemy X-8s.
Debriefing could wait for the next morning. The base commander, himself still groggy, graciously allowed Sousuke and Moto to return to the comfort---and relative safety---of their own home. Convincing himself that he was not delaying matters, but was rather rewarding his son’s bravery and successful actions, Sousuke took his son to their favorite ice cream shop. Moto chose a syrup-covered concoction larger than his head. His father smiled, watching him eat until he couldn’t take another bite.
They both drove home in silence, too exhausted to speak. Sousuke paid extra attention to the road, knowing that more deaths occurred on the highway than did in A.S. battles. Glancing over at his son, who had fallen asleep, he smiled as he remembered something that Moto once said as they drove home from pre-school:
”Moto, Father can’t pay too much attention to you now. Driving a car is a very important mission. Great caution is called for. Most accidents occur within twenty-five miles of the home.”
“Father, does that mean twenty-five miles from where we live now?”
“Yes, Moto.”
“Father, why don’t we move then?”
After parking the car, Sousuke took Moto up into his arms. He wondered what his son might be dreaming. How could anything be more exciting than the adventure he lived through today. On a serious note, he wondered what scars would be left behind emotionally, if any. He would talk to a combat psychologist at Mithril and see what advice he or she might have to offer.
Sousuke stopped at the foot of the stairway leading up the hill to his home. A variant on the old adage came to mind. Most injuries take place within twenty five steps of where I now stand. Squaring his shoulders, he went on to face the inevitable.
Nearing the top of the stairs, the front door opened. Tomoe’s and Shusaku’s heads poked out. Kaname stood in the center of the doorway. She looked at Moto, and then at Sousuke. Her face was drawn. Both hands were on her hips at first, but reached outward when Sosuke brought their eldest son near.
“Is he OK, Sousuke?” Kaname’s voice cracked. Sousuke recognized that inflection. It was the ‘I’m scared, because I know something, but haven’t been given too many details’ voice. “I received a phone call from the base saying something happened. They said you both were on the way home. The news showed….” She needed to catch her breath. “The news showed destroyed vehicles and body bags. The Halberd. The Halberd was down, smoking.”
“He’ll be fine, Kaname. He’s exhausted.”
“Were you injured in the Halberd, Sousuke? I don’t see any bandages.”
Sousuke stood quietly for a few moments. “I was not in the A.S., Kaname.” Sousuke’s posture and voice would have given nothing away to any person on earth…except for his wife. “I was unconscious at first. Then, I came to the Halberd’s rescue, just as Mithril troops came to mine.” Kaname began to get suspicious. The only thing that held her back was the absolute absurdity of her thought.
Kaname took Moto from Sousuke’s grasp, cradling her son in her arms. His eyes opened.
“Please don’t get angry at Father, Mother. We won.” Moto’s voice was quiet, but strong. Snuggling close against his mother’s warmth, he quickly fell back to sleep.
Kaname turned towards Sousuke, the narrowing of her eyes not hiding the bonfire growing within. She silently mouthed the word 'we.' She spoke very slowly and very deliberately. “Sousuke….who….was….in….the….Halberd.?”
“Here, hand Moto over to me. He must be getting heavy in your arms. Let’s tuck him into bed. Then you can give me a long deep kiss. I’ve been thinking about that all day.” Sousuke took Moto back into his arms. “I’ll tell you all about things. Maybe we should wait until the kids are asleep, and you and I can sit together in the soaking tub. I have a rather nasty groin pull, and can certainly use some tender ministrations.”
Kaname’s expression did not change. She didn’t take a single step following Sousuke, who had just started into the foyer. “Sousuke…WHO….was….in….the….Halberd?”
Sousuke stopped. He answered in a very quiet voice “Moto was.”
“Tomoe, Shusaku, go jump into your beds!” Kaname gave her youngest two children quick pecks on the cheeks before patting them on their rumps.
“Uh Oh, Daddy’s in big trouble again…” Tomoe sang.
“Oh oh, Dada’s bitrubba…” Shusaku mimicked, tripping over the footies on his nightwear.
Kaname followed silently behind Sousuke as he carried Moto into his room and put him to bed. When they walked out, Kaname gave Sousuke a short kiss on the lips.
Sousuke raised his eyebrows, a slight feeling of hope rising up within.
“Before you get down to business and tell me everything that happened today…before the stop at the ice cream shop…let me tell you that that kiss might be the last one you get for a while. And Sousuke….” Kaname’s face was unreadable.
“Yes, Kaname?” There was a growing lump in Sousuke’s throat.
“About that groin injury. It’s OK. You won’t be needing anything down there for a few weeks.” Walking closer, she added “Minimum!”
************************************************************
The End
