[FIC] Gang and Girl Visit Hinata: Havoc Ensues (part twelve)

[dd]

Shinobu shivered, clutching her arms to herself. She was not cold. She was frightened. Try as she may, she could not will her aggressive instincts into being voluntarily.

She didn’t want to think about what was coming. She took time to reflect upon good times and upon her friends. Keitaro. He was the reason she was in the Hinata Apartments. He was the reason that she had any hope or self-confidence at all. She would not dwell on the fact that he was sitting in an Arm Slave, waiting to play soldier without having given any indication he had any talent for that. Naru. Even though Naru was a rival for Keitaro’s affections, and someone she had no chance of replacing that way, Shinobu had the greatest respect for her. She looked up to her. She was the big sister she never had. No no no no no. Don’t think about the danger she’s in. Relax. Motoko. She was different than the others, restrained. She had her sense of purpose, though. She was the one best suited for today. She would defend her friends to her last drop of blood. Shinobu shook her head, not wanting to see that image. Sousuke. Like Keitaro, he had seen something of worth in Shinobu that others had not recognized. He had taken the time not only to teach her, but to learn from her. No one else had bothered to do that.

Shinobu kicked at her satchel. She did not want to let Sousuke down. She could not stomach the thought of failing him. But, what could she do? She might have some natural talents, but that did not necessarily make her a warrior. All she could do was try her best. NO! That was not true. She mustn’t fall into the trap of thinking that way. Sousuke had told her something that Winston Churchill had said: It’s no use in saying ‘we are doing our best.’ You have got to succeed in doing what was necessary.

Doing what was necessary.

Stopping the enemy was necessary. Protecting this house was necessary. Keeping her friends safe was necessary.

To do those things she would have to become a fighter. She would very likely have to become a killer.

No. No sense in dwelling on that. She remembered something else that Sousuke had told her: in war, there is no prize for the runner-up. They had to win, at ALL costs.

She returned to her thoughts about her friends. Su. So lively. So smart. So hungry. The young girl often did things that confounded or embarrassed Shinobu, but she was a good friend and someone close to her own age. Kitsune. Her thoughts of that fun-loving young woman were interrupted as the whopp whopp whopp whopp whopp whopp of helicopter blades passed overhead, breaking her concentration.

The enemy was here.

It was time to grow up.

Gunfire. Explosions. The roar of jets. More explosions. The shaking of the earth as the Mecha Tama 4 lumbered by. The drone of a tortured engine in a doomed Harrier. Even more explosions. The sound of wood and brick falling off the back of the Inn,

Shinobu, willing her feet to move, headed further out. She took up station just outside of a mazelike network of tall hedges, stopping a moment to admire sculpted umbrelliferous pines, maples, and fruit trees, as if for the last time.

She heard voices, just beyond sight, coming from behind a row of tall straight evergreens. Men’s voices. Soldiers’ voices. Enemy soldiers’ voices. She stood still, the arm holding the P-90 and its 50-round clip behind her back. Her satchel hung from the hedgework, Her body was shivering again, as if it were never going to stop. That feeling was there, the one that often came just as she was about to pass out.

A soldier stepped out from behind the trees, rifle held close to his body, his head turning one way and then another as he surveyed the surrounding area. Another soldier stepped out, covering the first. He was followed by two more, then another two. A couple carried Submachine guns. One grunted under the weight of a heavy machine gun. Shinobu saw one man with a small portable anti-tank guided missile. The next soldier had two missile tubes strapped to his back.

One of the enemy combatants caught sight of Shinobu. He lowered his rifle and smile, unconcerned about a petite teenage girl. “My…my…my…my…my…my. What have we here, buckos?” He started walking towards her. “Such a pretty little piece of fluff. So fresh. So pure. I didn’t know they made’em like this any more. I call first dibs.” He put his gun down. “Don’t be frightened, sweet pea. I’m not going to hurt you. “ He chuckled evilly. “You might be a bit sore when the others get through with you, though.”

“Kowalski, what the bloody f@ck are you doing? Unless you haven’t noticed, we’re in the middle of a godd@mn battle here. You won’t be worth squat if the boss man hears about this!” His comrade looked around nervously.

“Then we’ll just have to make sure he doesn’t here about it, right? Just look at her. She’d be so disappointed. There’s no battle going on back in those hedges, is there? It looks like the garden of earthly delights, to me. If you’re not interested, bugger off. The line forms to the rear.” He reached down and unbuttoned his trousers.

Memories flashed before Shinobu’s eyes. She waited for someone to save her. Motoko, where are you? No. There was no one there to protect her this time. It was up to her. She remembered the theft of her first kiss. It had left her shaken and upset. Something much greater was at stake here now.

Her anger began to build as the man walked closer, laughing, his pants in his hand. Other soldiers moved to join him. Her fury surged, reaching volcanic levels before she knew it. She brought the P-90 up. She imagined the men to be lifeless targets set up by Sousuke. She pulled the trigger, firing in a long continuous burst.

The first man lost a great deal more than his family jewels. Rat tat tat tat tat tat tat. His body jerked backwards awkwardly, red spots showing up on the front of his torn and tattered shirt. He fell forward clutching his chest, collapsing like a metal folding chair. Rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat. The second soldier ceased smiling. His head caved in like a rotten pumpkin as blood and brain matter splattered the man directly behind him. Rat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat tat. The splattered man belatedly realized the error of his ways, as bullets pierced his leg, abdomen, and chest .

Grabbing her satchel, Shinobu turn and ran. She headed deep into the maze, moving as fast as her small legs would allow. The other soldiers had reacted quickly. Bullets chased her as she disappeared from view. After a series of quick dashes, she stopped to catch her breath. She opened up her satchel. It was time to lighten the load. Running again, she left mines behind her.

There was an explosion, followed by the sound of loud cursing. Scratch one more enemy. The others would move more cautiously now, buying her some time. No doubt they took her seriously now.

Shinobu learned an important lesson about pride and overconfidence. The cost had been cheap this time. When she reached the opposite end of the maze, she realized thast some of the soldiers had gone around the shrubbery. She saw two men. Fortunately, neither saw her yet. She need time, but did not want to draw undue attention to herself, at least not until a time of her choosing.

As the first soldier cautiously walked into the hedge area, he did not see a partially concealed Shinobu until it was too late. Her combat knife entered his chest just below the xiphoid process, angled upward. In the battle of steel versus heart, steel wins. The man crumbled to the ground, the young girls hand tightly covering his mouth.

She was panting heavily, not merely from exhaustion. There was no time to rest on her laurels. She took out a fragmentation grenade out of her bag. She pulled the pin when she heard the rustle of leaves behind her. Throwing the grenade backwards she rushed forward into the open, P-90 at the ready. She saw one soldier with his back to her, intent on setting up his heavy machine gun. She bypassed him for the moment. His squad mate was raising his rifle and calling out a warning. The words died in his mouth as he was caught by a burst of bullets across his chest and face. Teeth flew. Limbs spasmed. His gun fired wildly as his finger involuntarily squeezed the trigger.

Could the young girl react quickly enough to the changing tide of battle? She had the opportunity to find out. Her submachine gun jammed. She didn’t have time to fool with it. Without hesitating, she dropped the gun and drew her knife. The other soldier turned, forgetting the heavy machine gun for the moment. He fumbled for his pistol. His failure was punctuated by a deep slash across his neck and the pooling of blood on his dying form.

How does this thing work? Shinobu gave the machine gun a quick once over. She saw an obvious lever and pulled it back. Prone, she swung the Utes around, hoping. She gave a quick tug at the trigger, seeing if she was in luck. Rata tat rata tat. Yes!

The blood pulsed loudly in her ears. Her heart was racing. She had never felt so alive. She remembered another quote from Churchill that Sousuke told her: Nothing in life is as exhilarating as to be shot at without results. The sudden quiet was uncomfortable. She had done very well at reacting. What should she do now? Take the initiative? Use the time and fall back to a safer position?

An enemy soldier cautiously peered around one corner of the hedge. Rata tat rata tat rata tat rata tat. Pause. Rata tat rata tat rata tat rata tat rata tat. Shinobu first aimed for where the man was standing, then worked the stream of bullets slowly inward from there. Someone cried “MEDIC!!!”

They knew what to expect now. Could they be sending soldiers around the other edge of the greenery? She made a snap decision. First, she laid down a continuous burst of suppressive fire. Next, she grabbed the dead soldier’s pistol and placed it in her satchel. She ran to the other corpse, liberated its assault rifle and ammo clips, then sprinted towards the nearest stone wall. She vaulted it in stride, rolling as she landed. She had moved just in time. Grenades rained down in the area surrounding the abandoned heavy machine gun. If she had stayed there….

Shinobu heard a sound. Turning, she saw two soldiers on her side of the wall. Damn! Where had THEY come from? There was no time to bring the unfamiliar gun around. There was no time to mourn.

A red hole appeared on the forehead of the lead man just as he began to fire. The bullets from his jerking gun ricocheted off of the wall, throwing stinging stone fragments into Shinobu’s eye. The second soldier met a similar fate a heartbeat after the first. His single shot grazed Shinobu’s ear, causing blood to course down her neck.

She had a guardian angel somewhere.

Not wanting to be caught unawares, Shinobu peered over the edge of the stone wall. Rapidly concentrated fire forced hert head back down quickly. She had seen what she needed to, but much more than she wanted to. Scampering as fast as she could, she kept low to the ground, the satchel bumping along behind her. There was a prolonged w-h-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-o-s-h sound. Seconds later, the warhead of the Metis-M blew large chunks of the stone barrier skyward.

They must really be worried about me Shinobu thought with some satisfaction. They SHOULD be. Had she been concerned that she couldn’t handle this?

A couple of grenades bounced against the top of the wall, one making it over to her side. She threw herself to the ground. Literally, she missed death by a hair. Shrapnel cropped her hair on one side and caught her a glancing blow on her backside. That stung! Tears came to her eyes. There was no time for that now. They had her zeroed in. She was pinned down. Any moment now she might end up food for the vultures.

As she was about to pick herself up again, she heard gunshots coming from high above her. She caught a brief small shimmer of light, most likely reflected off of a rifle scope. Her guardian angel was at work again. She suspected that he had blonde hair.

She had dropped the rifle, and hadn’t realized it until that moment. She would not head back for it. She took out the pistol, checked the clip, and headed for a gaping hole in the side of the Apartment building. No rest for the wicked. She counted herself among their number now….

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Mutsumi was usually unflappable. It took an awful lot to get her discomforted. She was discomforted now.

She liked hot springs. She liked turtles. She liked sake. She liked watermelons. She liked Keitaro and Sousuke. But, she did not like war. War was messy. War was noisy. War made one really pay attention. What a bother! She’d rather be sitting at her heated table.

She had only passed out three times so far. Not bad considering the situation. But, she had long since lost track of how many times she had exclaimed Oh My! The walls of the building had rocked from time to time. Loud noises were everywhere. Tama had been frantically flying about the place. Some explosions had caused her to drop whatever she had been carrying. It had been quite a nuisance having to pick up after herself again and again.

Mutsumi had turned the living room area into a M.A.S.H. unit without the ‘S.’ She had dragged out a fair number of futons. She had stacked up blankets. There were piles of bandages, cold compresses, splints, and slings. She had sewn some eye patches. Kitsune’s bottles of sake had been appropriated. They would make agood painkiller and disinfectant. A quick foray into one of the heavily damaged areas of the estate had yielded thin wood slats suitable for stretchers.

Working in the kitchen, she filled empty bottles with water. Movement caught her eye. She looked out of the shattered window, seeing a group of three squatting soldiers. Enemy soldiers. How very rude. No one had invited them. No doubt they were up to no good.

She put her hand up next to her face. There was something she needed to remember. Someone had given her something. Oh yes! Su had given her a bag of grenades. She smiled, closing her eyes. There was a way she could teach those soldiers a lesson.

She went and retrieved her bag. She took out a grenade. She threw it, then clapped her hands with glee. She counted: 1.…..2.…..3.…..4.…..5.…..6.….. Nothing happened. Su had told her ’5 or 6 seconds.’ She counted some more: 7.…..8.…..9.…..10.…..11.…..12.….. She suddenly got the impression that she had forgotten something. “Oh my! The pin.” She had forgotten to pull the pin.

Fortunately, no one had taken any notice of the grenade. Mutsumi put a few more on the counter. It was only right. There were three soldiers, so she would throw three grenades. She didn’t want anyone to feel left out. This time, before she tossed the explosives, she remembered to pull the pins.

The closely spaced explosions threw dirt and pebbles inside the kitchen. More work! When the smoke cleared, Mutsumi looked out the window again and saw that two men were no longer fully intact. In fact, it was quite a mess. Good thing that didn’t happen indoors! She hadn’t realized THAT would happen. But, a girl had to do what a girl had to do. The remaining man, shaking off his near death experience, blanketed the kitchen window with submachine gun fire, knocking pots, pans, ladles, tongs, and strainers off of their suspended hangers. Metalware tumbled to the floor in a terrible cacophony. Mutsumi covered her ears.

There was absolutely no cause for all THAT!!! She picked up two grenades, pulled the pins, and threw them with vigor. The pins flew true, bouncing off the surprised soldier. “Oh My!” Mutsumi quickly tossed the grenades. One detonated just behind the running man. The other one bounced off the window sill, rolled through her legs, and made its way into the living room. Uh oh.

The explosion threw bits of cot, blanket, and bandage into the kitchen. There was a stricken moaning sound.

“Oh my!“ She hoped that wasn’t one of her friends. Tama, a roll of bandages tied to her back, flew in and landed on Mutsumi’s head. “Oh, I see. I’m so lucky.” Tama told her that there were too men in the next room. They were not moving. They had guns. “I suppose I should have some of those too, just in case.” Mutsume went to gather up the available weapons. She sighed. There was blood everywhere. Another mess. Shaking her head, she addressed the dead and dying soldiers. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people that way. Serves you right!”


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Gauron stopped Ahriman at the edge of the burning sea of fire. Such wanton needless destruction. He smiled.

Why hadn’t he thought of that.

“Do you smell that? It’s napalm, son. Nothing else in the world smells like that.” He loved the movie Apocalypse Now. He wished he could meet Francis Ford Coppola. He’d let him leave unharmed. “I love the smell of napalm in the morning.” He laughed. “Smells like……Victory.” He wished he had a ‘Best of The Doors’ CD with him now.

It was time to see if the scalar shielding would do what he thought it would. It should theoretically keep thermal energy out. Supplemented by the Lambda Driver, Ahriman should be able to walk through the flames unscathed. That would allow him to walk up on the Mithril Arm Slaves…and Kashim…from an unsuspected angle. No one would see him in all that fire and smoke.

He just loved surprises.

He moved the behemoth forward slowly. 5 feet…..20 feet…50 feet…no problems. 100 feet…200 feet…500 feet…still no problems. 1000 feet. Dead stop. He checked various readouts. There was a slight fluctuation in heat levels. The coolant system was straining ever so slightly. Other than that, all was well.

Gauron looked at his view screens. He had never seen a view like this before. Some day, he would no doubt see it again, when he was dropped off at Satan’s feet. For now, it brought another quote from that movie to mind: “F@ck man, this is better than Disneyworld!”

“I bet you wish I’d stay in Hell, right Kashim?” Yes. Kashim had done him good on a number of occasions. But, he kept coming back. He doubted his young protagonist would be as fortunate. Then again, he saw a bit of himself in Kashim. He should tell him that. It would tie him up in painful knots! He knew what the young man must think of him. He laughed. Suddenly, he became violently angry, near psychotic. He remembered another quote: “I have seen the horror, horror you’ve seen. But, you have no right to call me a murderer. You have the right to kill me, but you don’t have the right to judge me.”

He moved Ahriman on a random path for a few moments. Then, he switched over to GPS guidance. He knew exactly where he should exit the fire.

Another movie came to mind. The Shining. He laughed. He did his best Jack Nicholson. “Heeerrreee’sss JOHNNY!”

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Listen up, assholes.” Melissa was working on briefing the team as they headed towards their confrontation with Gauron and the enemy A.S. “This is going to be something different. And I don’t mean something like YOU, McGrady!”

“Thank you Sgt. Major. Kiss kiss.” McGrady responded.

“Clam up, Urzu 4. This is not the usual rush in and shoot’em all to Hell operation. God knows, we might not even be able to stop this thing.” She paused, letting that statement sink in. “It’s got a Lambda Driver and we don’t. That ought to be enough info for those of you who didn’t make it out of high school.” She paused again. “It gets better. The damn thing has a new type of shield that will defeat anything electrical. If the shield passes over you, your A.S. will lose all function. You won’t care, since you’ll be dead, your heart stopped.”

“Merde!!! Sgt. Buchet said louder than he had intended. “I suggest we send Urzu 4 in first.”

“Shit is right, Urzu 5. Smartest thing you’ve said all week. Maybe all year,” There was a chuckling heard of the microphones in each of the remaining M9s. Sousuke was characteristically silent. “We have a couple of things in our favor,” Melissa continued, serious again. “It’s big weapon, similar to the one that Sgt. Sagara is carrying, appears to have gone on the fritz. Better yet, that walking scrap heap is powered by a special type of generator, one which is missing a very crucial part. They did not know enough to add the necessary limiters.”

“Are you saying that the thing can give out at any time? We’re supposed to stress the damn thing, trying to make its heart stop, so to speak?” Sgt. Kaboli was all business.

“Gold star for Mama’s bright boy!” Melissa exclaimed. “Urzu 8, it’s nice to have a soldier with a brain in his head instead of where he sits. You are correct. It’s our job to run him ragged, pound him with everything we have, and keep out of his reach. That, and pray a whole lot. Sousuke, do you have anything to add?”

“Sgt. Major, I also suggest that we send Urzu 4 in first.” Everyone assumed that Sousuke was joking. Sgt. McGrady mumbled something obscene about turtles. “We need to exploit our greater mobility. Gauron is no fool. He may toy with us some, but when he grows weary of the game, all he needs to do embrace us to give us the kiss of death. I will try to draw his attention onto myself. He will be obsessed with my torment and destruction. If I can get him to follow me, I will force him to use as much power as possible.”

“Another gold star! I’m going to run out of the damned things before the battles over. I only figured I’d need three for the whole month. And Sousuke….” Melissa left her statement hanging.

“Yes, Sgt. Major?”

“Forget about that Turtle-1 shit. Doesn’t matter what you drive. You are still Urzu-7. Got it?”

“Affirmative.”

“Urzu 2, do we have any idea of Gauron’s current location?” Sgt. Kaboli asked the pertinent questions. “Will he attack us…the nearby buildings…or head into the city?”

“Our spotters have lost track of him, Urzu 8. My guess is he’s looking for us. Looking for Urzu-7.” Melissa brought up a map of the area on her view screen. “We’ll follow what’s left of the forest line here, keeping the firewall to our one flank. That ought to shield us from one side. But, be careful, it will also restrict our options when it comes time to haul ass away from that bastard. Keep your eyes open.. OK, time to move. Head out, single file. Urzu 5, you take point. Urzu-7, you bring up the rear.”

“But, Sgt. Major…I thought we were going to send Urzu 4 in first?” Sgt. Buchet joked.

“That’s a negative, Urzu-5. We want that crazy son of a bitch to chase us and wear himself down, not collapse to the ground laughing. Enough chatter. Let’s get this done, children.” Melissa pulled her M9 behind Urzu-5.

Defiant, Sgt. McGrady had to add one final dig of his own. “We shouldn’t send Bluchet up front. You know the saying. Raise one hand if you like the French. Raise two hands if you are French!” He laughed at his own joke. "Do you think Gauron will like accordion music? Are we trying to make him wear himself out dancing?” That last witticism was based on the quote Going to war without France is like going deer hunting without your accordion.

“Urzu-5...” Melissa tried unsuccessfuly to shut Sgt. McGrady up. It was too late. He was on one of his rolls.

“OK, OK, Sgt. Major. You’re right, as usual. It’s better to have him take lead. Patton was right. I’d rather have a German division in front of me than a French one behind me.” More laughter followed. Bluchet was easy pickin's. He was laid back. McGrady knew better than to try and get back at Melissa. He had enough scars on her account.

The banter continued, with Sgt. Bluchet trying unsuccessfully to go one up on Sgt. McGrady, and Sgt. Kaboli trying to restore a semblance of order. Melissa let them continue, realizing that it was their way of dealing with their fear and unease. Sousuke, as uaual, was quiet.

As he piloted the MT4, Sousuke tried unsuccessfully to ward off certain memories. He couldn’t help but picture Afghanistan. Gauron. Zaido. A stolen nuclear weapon. His old hiding place. The death of the entire Mithril team, save himself. He hoped it was not a premonition.

Looking at the blazing inferno off to one side, he thought of Flegra---the Place of Fire. It had been the site of the epic battle between the Olympian gods and the Giants. Those Giants had been born at the same time as the Furies, from the blood that fell into Gaia’s womb out of the severed penis of Uranus. They could not be killed by divine hands, as the Titans could be. The latter, led by Chronos, were simply the oldest generation of gods. Zeus had fathered Heracles with a mortal woman so he could defeat the Giants.

“Which is he? Titan or Giant?” Sousuke asked himself out loud.

WHICH IS *WHO* SOUSUKE? The MT4 Artificial Intelligence asked.

“My apologies, sweetheart. I was talking to myself.”

SHOULD I RUN AN EMERGENCY PSYCHOLOGICAL PROFILE?

“That’s a negative, sweetheart. It is merely a normal human activity.” Sousuke sighed. He certainly was not the average normal human.

He certainly was not a Heracles. Today’s confrontation between massive Arm Slaves might boil down to whether Gauron was a Giant or a Titan. He pictured the three Fates, the Moirae: Lachesis, determining how much time was allotted to each man’s life; Clotho, spinning the web of his life; and Atropos, cutting the thread of life. They had a lot to answer for. Sousuke had given Atropos a number of opportunities to snip away Gauron’s life. But, in the old writings, the Fates were not always deaf to the pleas of others.

“I’ll forgive you the past, Atropos. Just cut Gauron’s thread today.” Immersed in thought, he had spoken aloud again.

A series of lights flickered on the control panel. The view screen flashed to life. A small representation of a woman in a lab coat walked across the screen holding a pointer. A bizarre shape was shown.

INITIATING RORSCHACH INKBLOT PROTOCOL. PLEASE STATE ALL ANSWERS PROMPTLY, SAYING WHAT INITIALLY COMES TO MIND. WHAT DOES THIS SHAPE REMIND YOU OF?

Sousuke shook his head. There was no doubt that Su was a genius, and a Whispered. But, she had to learn to simplify things. “Sweetheart, that looks like an Arm Slave in need of a new AI.”

There was a pause.

ENDING PSYCHOLOGICAL TESTING. SUBJECT FOUND NORMAL. CORRECTION, SUBJECT FOUND EXCEPTIONAL

“Good work, sweetheart. You are a credit to AIs everywhere. Please focus all spare computing power to external surveillance. There will be no second chances today. We cannot afford to be taken by surprise.”

Sousuke and the MT4 were not taken by surprise,

Sgt. Buchet was not so fortunate.

“Watch out Urzu 5.…” Was all that Melissa had time to say. A huge mechanical arm reached out of the roaring blaze, followed by the remainder of the enemy Arm Slave.

“ENFER….” was Rene Buchet’s last word. The scalar field passed over him, robbing him of consciousness and everything else.

“Oui!” Gauron’s voice came through on all of the survivors’ com systems. Ahriman picked up the inoperative M9 and flung it into the fire. “NEXT!”

Melissa’s control panel flickered. She was just on the fringe of the deadly defensive shield. She slammed the control levers forward, wanting to put some distance between herself and the towering monstrosity. Gauron laughed at her retreat. “Run little rabbit, RUN! I’ll catch you soon enough.”

Urzu-4 and Urzu-8 moved quickly as well, trying to gain distance and envelope the attacking machine.

“Time for work, sweetheart. Attack at my direction. You will fire and direct all missiles. I will handle the cannon.” There was obviously no need whatsoever for the flame gun. “Missile spread should be controlled such that every aspect of an invisible screen is covered, with terminal approach based on gravity and flight direction. All control will vanish after the missiles pass into the scalar field. Is that understood?”

No answer.

“Is that understood, sweetheart?

INSTRUCTIONS RECORDED, EVALUATED, AND JUDGED ACCEPTABLE. I UNDERSTAND

“Very good. In addition, our weapons will be ineffective until the enemy suffers generator failure. As such, you will not launch a missile blitzkrieg. I repeat, you will not exhaust your missile supply in the initial stages of confrontation. Is that understood? Sweetheart.”

UNDERSTOOD. IF I MAY SAY SO, YOU ARE RATHER CLEVER. FOR A MAN.

“Commense firing! Sousuke worked the controls for the MT4s arms, swinging the Mega positronic cannon into place. There was no jolt, no sound of missiles firing. Damn that AI.

“COMMENCE FIRING NOW, SWEETHEART!!!"

The Ultra Super Mega Tama surprised Sousuke, letting loose with a long challenging cry, almost identical to that of Gamera. Each of the twelve crarpace panels launched five missiles in rapid succesion, filling the air with an expanding cloud of missiles. After their spiral flight paths, each missile impacted impotently on the Lambd Driver shield. Nebulous smoke trails surrounded the impervious Ahriman like a diaphanous spider web, just as it fired a flight of missiles after the receding form of Urzu-2.

“Let’s see if this has any effect!” Sousuke snarled, firing the Meha positronic cannon, hearing a chime for each round fired Schumppp schumppp schumppp schumppp schumppp schumppp. A readout on the instrument panel counted backward from 100, ending at 94.

The projectiles of the Mega positronic cannon were packets of tenuous magnetic force, separating small amounts of matter and antimatter. Normally, the containment would instantly disappear at impact. In this case, the scalar shield stripped away the magnetic casing. Shield coverage was incomplete, and allowed the partcles to pass. There must already be some degradation in the enemy’s ambi-plasmic generator. Small actinic flashes covered the glowing nimbus surrounding Ahriman. Where enough shots clustered, a brief hole was noted in that luminous barrier.

“Sweetheart, I want directed missile fire. Calculate the trajectory of my shots and guide your missiles directly to that point of impact. FIRE!!!” The MT4 launched another screaming salvo. Sousuke waited momentary, then pumped 10 rounds into the chest area of the enemy vehicle. schumppp schumppp schumppp schumppp schumppp schumppp schumppp schummmp schummmp s-c-h-u-u-u-n-g. The counter now read 84.

WARNING. ANTI-MATTER RESIDUE BUILDUP IN CANNON REACHING CRITICAL LEVELS. INITIATING VENTING PROCESS. ESTIMATED TIME OF PROCEDURE, 5 MINUTES

“Damn it!!!” Just when it looked as if there was a glimmer of hope. Sousuke watched intently as his shots briefly created a longitudinal rift in the glowing shield protecting his opponent. A swarm of missile hit that general area, some of them making it through to the exposed armor underneath. Ahriman lurched sideways, knocking over a brace of tall oaks, ripping the crown off of two ancient trees as it fought to maintain balance. Pieces of garishly painted metal spun away from the wounded craft.

“K-a-a-a-s-s-s-h-h-h-i-i-i-m. That must be you, Kashim. I’ve been so looking forward to this. Let me introduce you to Ahriman.” As the missile launcher on the back of Gauron’s Arm Slave reoriented and launched a salvo at Urzu-5, the head turret turned towards the MT4. whhhiiirrrhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. Huge uranium depleted projectiles flew like a swarm of metal wasps as a fountain of brass casings jumped upward, sparkling attractively in the sunlight. A cloud of smoke and burning lubricant hid the snarling head of the attacking Ahriman.

ZiiiithZiiithZiiithZiiithZiiithZiiithZiiithZiiithZiiith Trees surrounding the MT4 were turned into splinters and a shower of pulverized leaf fragments just as WhangWhangWhangWhangWhangWhangWhangWhang the MT4 was thrown backward, its head structure thoroughly perforated, leaking rivulets of slurried fuel down the front and back of the wounded craft. ZiiithZiiithZiiithZiiithWhangWhangWhang. Sparks from one glancing hit ignited the fuel, setting the giant chelonian form on fire.

OHHH-OHHH-OHHH-OHHH-OHHH-OHHH The AI almost sounded as if it were in pain.

“Hang in there, sweetheart” Sousuke yelled without thinking. “Fire missiles when ready.”

WARNING. O-O-O-H CANNOT COMPLY O-O-O-H UNTIL EXTERNAL FIRES O-O-O-H ARE OUT. ACTIVATING O-O-O-H EXTINGUISHERS. Large vents opened, extruding a thick rolling mass of green foam. The fires were systematically brought under control.

Sousuke used the time to scan the battlefield. Urzu 2 was picking itself up, issuing a small amount of smoke from a charred rear panel. Urzu-8 was launching a mixed flight of Javelin and Standard missiles. Urzu-5 was walking backward quickly, firing its 57mm at the approaching Ahriman.

“Kashim, you look so wonderful when you are burning! You really do, Kashim. We should do this more often.” Again, the maniacal laughter. “But I really have not been a very attentive host. I can’t pay too much attention to one guest. Especially since that guest probably wants to lead me away from his friends.” There was a moment of quiet while Gauron lit up a cigar. “Don’t worry, though. I won’t forget about you. How could I, Kashim, after all that we have been through? Think of this as a party favor. You get to watch your friends die.”

Unharmed by the 57mm shells, Ahriman launched a dreadful cluster of large missiles. The speeding weapons impacted on Urzu-5 and the ground at its feet, tossing the M9 upward. Urzu-5, absent one arm and one leg, lay wedge in the crook of a large tree. Sgt. McGrady could not open the hatch---it was blocked by a large tree bough. He knew his time had come. “ Adios everybody, and happy trails. Take this motherf@cker out for me. At least Buchet went first!”

Ahriman walked closer and closer, and still Sgt, McGrady found himself alive. Maybe that son of a bitch FINALLY ran out of juice. He knew he was likely dead, regardless. He opened the self-destruct housing, twisted off the protective cover, and dialed up ‘instant detonation.’ He put his finger on the button.

Ahriman’s ambi-plasmic generator was still operational. Despite the risks, Gauron had shut it down, deactivating both protective shields. His cruel streak had taken over. The Arm Slave drew forth an over-sized anti-tank dagger. In one quick movement, Ahriman brought the dagger downward, just as Gauron hit the ‘restart’ button.

The dagger pierced Urzu-5 and Sgt. McGrady, but not before the latter had pushed this own button. The M9 exploded before Ahriman could pull back the dagger. The arm blew off the massive Arm Slave as the body was flung backward, sparks jumping from the point of traumatic amputation. The glowing nimbus of light reappeared just as Ahriman hit the ground. Missiles fired by Urzu-8 detonated harmlessly on that shield.

“You bastard!!!” the usually restrained Sgt. Kaboli yelled, charging towards the enemy craft. He had seen the visible shield go down and still heard Sgt. McGrady’s ragged breathing over the com system. He correctly deduced that the system was down. He had no way of knowing that anyone would voluntarily lower their shields in battle. It was an understandable mistake. Unfortunately, it was also a fatal one. He had drawn his 57mm and had commenced firing. He was shocked to see the shield reappear. Moving his arms and legs, he caused Urzu-8 to some to a sliding halt.

Sousuke too, had reached the same conclusion. “Triple flight of missiles, sweetheart.”

ON THEIR WAY Dozens of missiles sped towards the enemy.

Ahriman’s head turned towards the approaching M9. The whirring noise echoed about the area again, as the gatling gun roared to life. Urzu-8 tumbled forward, legless. Picking itself up, the gargantuan Arm Slave lumbered its way over to the immobile M9 and its lifeless pilot. In a gesture of contempt, Gauron operated the leg controls, causing Ahriman to kick the remnants of Urzu-8, sending it to land half in and half out of the fire.

“Pathetic moron.” Gauron spat. “At least you’ve done better than that,Kashim. Looks like all of the training I’ve given you over the years has paid off!” He laughed. “Only one more fiend to go, Kashim. Please be patient.” Ahriman was unharmed by the missiles fired by a staggering Urzu-2. Likewise, the MT4’s last salvo had no effect.

“Is that you, little lady?” Gauron asked Melissa. “It’s been a while since I’ve killed a woman. Of course, after I kill you, I can probably say the same thing again.” Ahriman headed towards Urzu-2.

“F@CK YOU, SHITHEAD!!! Melissa retorted angrily. “I flush better things than you every day.” Missiles spent, Melissa moved her Arm Slave to take up its 57mm. She fired at the approaching doom. It might take a while to catch up, but the approaching monster was faster than her injured craft.

“This grows tiresome” Gauron said, sighing. He launched a salvo of missiles and watched apathetically as the resultant explosions threw the M9 off of a series of trees. “Let’s put an end to it.”

It might not be the best tactical decision, but Sousuke did not give a damn about strategy or tactics at that moment. If he did not act, Melissa would die. Simple.

“Sweetheart, switch all power over to the motive systems. Get to that fallen Arm Slave AS FAST AS YOU CAN!!!

POWER COUPLINGS REROUTED. WILL SOON REACH TOP SPEED. THAT WAS NO WAY TO TREAT A LADY

There was only one thing Sousuke could think to do, as long as that damn scalar shield was operational. It was risky, having a very high likelihood of killing Sgt. Major Mao. It would also place himself directly in harms way. But, it was better than the alternative.

“Sweetheart, launch all smoke missiles, make a wall of smoke between Ahriman and Urzu-2.”

FIRING.

Ahriman. Sousuke thought about that name as the MT4 rapidly closed the distance between itself and Sgt. Major Mao. Ahriman. Angra Mainyu. The dark god or “evil spirit” of the dualistic religion of Zoroastrianism. The Ancient Persians had envisioned him as opponent of Ahura Mazda. The game of chess was based on the fight between the two, with Ahura Mazda being the white king…Ahriman being the black king…the chess pieces representing the elements of life…and the sixty-four alternating black and white squares representing the floor of the House of Mysteries. Kings represent the immortal soul. Queens represent the mind. Bishops represent the emotions. Knights represent vitality. Castles represent the physical body. Pawns represent the sensory impulses.

According to Zoroaster, Ahriman would be defeated by Ahura Mazda during a time of great catastrophe. Sousuke certainly considered the events of this day to be catastrophic. Could he defeat Gauron? He had to use everything at his command, including his mind, vitality, body, and senses. He would need to be careful with his emotions. There was more at stake here than his immortal soul.

Urzu-2, this is Urzu-7. Sgt. Major, are you alright?”

The returning signal was heavy on static, but Soususke could make out Melissa’s voice.”Urzu-7, I shshshshsh don’t worry about shsh You have shshshshssh away from all shshshshshshshsh counting shsh you. shshshsh and out.” The signal terminated.

The message was garbled. It was not important. He knew what he had to do. First, he would see if he could save Sgt. Major Mao.

When the MT4 reached Urzu-2, Sousuke swung down one giant arm, grasped the M9 in its hand, then raised the arm up and back. With a forward lunge, the MT4 hurled the smaller Arm Slave far away, over the tops of tall evergreens. Hidden by the smoke, Sousuke hoped that his action had gone unwitnessed.

“Full forward movement, sweetheart. Get us the Hell out of here!”

INITIATING FORWARD SPRINT. IS THAT LANGUAGE REALLY NECESSARY?

Just as the MT4 started forward, its left leg went dead. The ground shook with an impact behind the disabled Arm Slave. Gauron had sensed Sousuke’s position by radar. He threw Ahriman into a phenomenal leap, catching the MT4 with a small part of the scalar field.

“Sweetheart, all diagnostics on line NOW!!! Get that leg moving or we’re DEAD!”

I WILL *NOT* LET THEM HARM YOU. ACTIVATING EMERGENCY ROLLING ESCAPE MODE

Sousuke was thrown back in his seat by a series of enormous explosions, as strategically placed charges detonated, blowing off the head and tail structures. Huge gyroscopes spun to life, jump-started by electromagnetic pulses. A large number of tiny rocket engines fired, throwing the MT4 forward, end over end, its flapping and flopping soon stabilizing. The perfectly circular outline of the giant turtle shell now came into play. The MT4 rolled quickly along like a giant wheel, knocking down trees and leaving a deep track in the soil. Spinning faster and faster, Sousuke fought to remain conscious.

“What are you doing, Kashim? What nonsense is this? You are only prolonging the inevitable!” Ahriman was still not clear of the smoke, but was now back on its feet. Gauron could see a circular image on his radar screen. It was picking up speed. Piloting his own Arm Slave out of the obscuring cloud, he stared in disbelief at the retreating MT4. “Damn you Kashim. Why are you so hard to kill.” This was no longer a game. It was a biological imperative. MUST kill Kashim. MUST kill him as quickly as possible. MUST kill Kashim. MUST kill him as quickly as possible. The instinctive thought pulsed with each beat of Gauron’s heart.

Gauron pushed Ahriman to its limit. He could not let Kashim get too far ahead, or he might find some way to escape. The ambi-plasmic generator was close to going critical, but there were no monitoring devices capable of realizing that. “I‘m coming, Kashim!”

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End of part twelve.