The cockpit is rattled by a nearby explosion. A fraction of the chaos outside appears on the monitor. Muffled sounds of whistling shells and the crack of massive guns resonate throughout. Sweat droplets sparkle on the visor of my helmet, my breathing is heavy, and I fight to control the trembling of my hands on the joysticks.
They came out of nowhere. Mere hours after we lost contact with the moon, the massive fleet was breaking through the atmosphere. Of course, we were armed. The fleet situated the moon was a mere fraction of what was stationed on Earth. Our assailants’ arsenal rivalled if not surpassed the size of ours, but it’s our home we were defending, and we quickly grew desperate. The nukes soon started to rain upon the enemy. During the scramble, the order was “no mercy, whatever happens”.
All of the American fleet was upon them, and Europe’s vanguard was hours from the front line. The orbital fleet will start firing any second now. Meanwhile, we’re out here on the ground, to make sure these things don’t go anywhere. It’s not an easy fight, but one I’m determined to see through.
I launch my mech into the air, through the smoke and the chaos, take aim at the blurry shapes in the distance, and squeeze the trigger. My target explodes in a mix of metal, circuits and flesh. Whatever it is we’re fighting, they’re also using mechanized armours. Some of them seem to have four arms….
I land hard on the destroyed torso of another friendly mech, noticing the black edged hole through the cockpit. “Rest in peace, mate” My teeth are tense as I spit the words out.
A quick, repetitive beep resonates out of the console. The kinetic sensors. Something hits the left side of my mech, tipping me to the side. I turn my armour back to face my aggressor. A three eyed armour is walking towards me, a strange contraption in hand. He points it towards me, and the barrel starts to glow. A gun.
I press a button. The handle of my attack dagger slides from its sheath. I yank it out with my mech’s right arm, activate the rear thrusters, ejecting my valiant suit towards the enemy, and thrust my blade into the thing’s head. A flash of light erupts from the strange weapon’s barrel.
The next sight I see is the thing’s lights flicker and fail through the gaping hole in my cockpit plating, half of my vision obstructed, probably by my own blood. The right joystick my hand was holding is gone, replaced by a scorching combination of metal, fibre and flesh. The pain hasn’t hit me yet. I doubt it ever will. My body feels more and more numb as a dark liquid gathers on my pedals. What’s left of my vison blurs and goes dark.
Sticking to my action/sci-fi/dystopian roots for this first foray into Speakeasy 2.0. Hope you guys liked it. Comments much appreciated!