â€œDo any of you have any idea what weâ€™re doing here?â€
â€œYeah, walking around like idiots.â€
â€œSeriously who sent us here?â€
â€œMust be another joke from the sergeant.â€
The quartet of cadets moved forward, scanning left and right. Atlas D, Catapult K2, Hunchback 4G and Dragon 1N making up their lance.
â€œWell look, weâ€™re at the end of the patrol, how exciting, I guess weâ€™ll turn around and go ba-â€œ
Suddenly they were surrounded by Mechs hitting them.
â€œReadings! Fleas! Five, maybe six of them! Theyâ€™re all over the damn place!â€
â€œHow the hell do you hit these things?â€
â€œMy AC/5 is out!â€ shouts the Dragon cadet, the Fleas having â€˜knocked outâ€™ the weapon with concentrated virtual laser fire. â€œGot one lined up go- Dammit, whereâ€™d they go?â€
And just like that, they were gone. Around hills, behind cliff edges, they just disappeared.
â€œHello newbies! Enjoying your stroll?â€ taunted their sergeant, â€œWhat do you do now?â€
And then silence.
â€œF-form a square!â€ And so they did, forming up, back to back. None of them was in good condition. The Dragonâ€™s AC/5 was out, the Hunchbackâ€™s left arm was out, both the Catapultâ€™s PPCs were hurting, and the Atlas had a very damaged right leg. â€œCover your sectors; you know theyâ€™ll be... back.â€
And they were; as the cadets predicted, the Fleas were suddenly all over them.
â€œI canâ€™t hit him heâ€™s at my feet. I canâ€™t see that far down!â€ screamed the Atlas cadet as, â€œDamn â€“ there goes my other arm!â€ shouted the Hunchback pilot. â€œMy PPCâ€™s are almost gone, got a couple hits with machine guns I think!â€ commented the Catapult. â€œEveryone cut... stop the chatter! Where the hell are they?â€ growled the Atlas pilot, the leader of the lance.
â€œAnyone see where they went?â€ asks someone, to no reply.
They were back before anyone really understood. The K2â€™s rear armour was suddenly out. â€œIâ€™m dead guys, good luck...â€ his solemn statement. â€œHeadshot; me tooâ€ replied the Hunchback pilot. â€œDamn, coredâ€¦ good luck man,â€ came a very exhausted message from the Dragon cadet.
Suddenly the Atlasâ€™ left leg was out.
â€œBet you could use a Light or two on your side about now, eh?â€ sneered the sergeant over the comm. "Oh, and there are three of us, not six."
â€œAbsolutely, sir,â€ the cadet replied, as his Mechâ€™s right leg succumbed to lasers, â€œAbsolutely.â€