Friday, January 26, 2007

Onward!: Pt. 9

The ride down to the spaceport was one that Deacon Smith would come to remember for years. It was his second year as part of the Company's line of Operators. He got paid well, lived in the upscale part of town and never had any vices that put him on the front page news feeds. He was called a local hero by the Star Town News Daily and a promising sign of the the times by the City Herald. And he never let any of the press get to his head. In fact, he often stayed home alone. But now he was going to be front page news and everyone jacked into the local feeds would know that Deacon Smith was going to try and stop the rebels before the three best Marshals had to go in and clean up house.
Deacon's head swam as they readied for landing. The old armor he had on was substantially heavier than his own own Mark 10 armor. But what he needed now was not a light-weight suit of armor, no, what was really needed was for the rebels to put down their weapons before the Marshals and their Judgment Suits came in and turned everything before them to ash. He didn't want to see these people die, even if they were breaking the laws of the city. He'd rather have them all in jail then have to attend to a mass funeral. But with the Marshals being as temperamental as they were, no one ever knew how long they would wait.
The gunship flew in low and quick over the hot zone. Smith would have a five meter jump down from the gunship's ramp and then he'd be by himself. He took his pistols and a hand-held rail gun in case he needed an extra incentive for the rebels inside the building.
"Green light Smith," said the door operator on the landing ramp. The rotating amber lights filled the bay area and Smith turned back one last time to see Larissa's face.
"If I make it out of there alive, will you go out with me?" said Deacon. His faceplate obscured his eyes and the fear they held.
"If you make it out alive I'll think about it," said Larissa. She laughed.
"So was that a yes?" Smith said.
"Yes you damn fool, now get going," Larissa said. She ran up to him and kissed his face plate.
"Okay then," said Smith. He ran off the ramp and landed on the roof of the building the rebels had occupied.
He rolled to help with the shock of landing and then decided that had been a bad idea. Mark 1 armor had never been known to absorb the shock of gunship free-fall jumps, even from five meters up. He shook his head and then the ear bud he wore chimed on.
"Smith, this is Macon, what's the SitRep?"
"Not good, they are heavily armed. I count Eight Autocannons up here alone, the gunships can take those out once I get the guards up here, there's only three of them, no armor. But the cannons are remote controlled. So wait for my signal to blow them, over," Smith said.
"Fine, tell us when you're inside. Out," Macon said.
Macon ran at the nearest guard and took him out with an open palm punch to the solar plexus. He scanned the rebel for any internal damage and saw none. He moved on to the next guard but this one fired at him as soon as he turned around. The bullets of the automatic rifle bounced off Deacon's armor and clattered to the floor.
He smiled behind his faceplate and smacked the rebel sideways with an open palm. Two down, one to go, Smith had thought. He looked around to try and spot the last guard but found him too late. The Autocannon opened fire on him and sent him sprawling. He could feel the dents in his chest. Luckily the armor was not compromised, yet. He crawled over to the nearest cannon mooring and leaned against it. The gunfire stopped. He heard the rebel calling for back up and knew that he had to take him down with force. He aimed his pistol and made it a head shot.
The rebel's body slumped backward onto the concrete roof. Smith ran towards the downed man and grabbed the remote. He fired on the furthest cannon and then aimed the rest at each other.
"Operator Smith to Chief Operator Dean," Smith said. The vents in his suit released cool air and helped him relax.
"This is Macon, how's it going Smith?" said Macon. He heard the Autocannon fire in the background.
"The cannons are taken care of. You can land a gunship or two up here now, I'm going in. Two men are out here, one deceased. No other way," Smith said.
"Fine Smith, get going," Macon said.
"Smith out," Deacon said.
He looked around at the smoking cannons and made his way toward the service elevator. He got in and opened a panel in his armor. He jacked into the elevator's mainframe and sent the elevator's stopping point as the ground floor, where the majority of the rebels were. The slow hum of the elevator picked up and then abruptly slowed down as it neared the ground floor. There was a loud clang then the doors opened slowly. Smith had barely enough time to snatch his plug out of the control panel. He was fired upon the moment the elevator's door opened. Smith ducked behind the inside panel and tried closing it. It didn't close.
He brought both pistols up and leapt out of the elevator. The first few bullets did nothing to him as they bounced off his armor. It was the lascannon that the rebels had that slammed him against the wall. He felt the world spinning again and blacked out for a minute.
They thought he was dead since he did not move. But when he squeezed the the throat of their leader in his amored fist, they all backed away...

Previously on Onward1...

The vid-screen was turned off by Smith. Both Larissa and Drake turned and looked at the battered Operator lying in his bed.
"They had to send in the three best judges the City had to stop this, Drake? Smith said.
"Looks like they did Deacon. And you know how this'll pan out. Rebels had a terrorist in their midst that went rogue and started firing on the Marshals, Marshals will go in with Extreme Prejudice. They are the law and they've got more firepower in their Judgment suits then an entire precinct of Operators do," Drake said.
"We were told to make sure you are okay and that you don't get any ideas in your thick skull to move toward the Drighton Spaceport. Plus, you've got no armor on you and that would be foolish to run into the combat zone with no protection," Larissa said.
"The rebels don't have any armor, and they seem to be doing a helluva lot better than our Operators down there are doing. No armor Larissa. They might as well be standing there naked. Yet we can't get close enough to them?" said Smith.
"I think they've got some kind of EMP that shorts out the armor's abilities and that's why we've been getting shot up out there.
"No, not an EMP, worse, A nano-fence around the perimeter that will take out the armor's abilities," said a man entering the room.
Drake and Larissa stood up and saluted the giant of a man. He saluted back. He smiled at Smith and walked over to him.
"You've dealt with this before haven't you Smith? Hmph, looks like I was wrong all those years ago. How close are you to being able to move?" the man said.
"Give me some regular body armor and I can get in there Macon. You know I can. And then the Marshals won't have to leave that place like a slaughterhouse," Smith said.
"Gwen and Drake, you are now his back up. Get him to the nearest precinct that carries Mark 1 body armor. Then get your asses down to the spaceport," Macon said. He smiled at Smith with his one good eye.
"Glad to see you still wear the eye patch Macon, and that you didn't get all hi-tech on me," Smith said. He laughed and hobbled out of bed...

1 Comments:

Blogger introhvert said...

1. "kissed his face plate". is that what you kids call it nowadays? haha.

2. like i said, Macon's a badass!!!

3. YYEA! the throat squeeze!

6:04 PM  

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