1
I once used to soar through the skies, raining death on destruction on my enemies from afar. Laughing and savouring their bitter tears as I was carried through the winds like an avenging angel by my jump jets.
Then one day, I strapped myself into my cockpit, and something seemed different, uncomfortable. I yelled at my tech, but Arthur just shrugged and wouldn't look me into the eye. Mumbled something about 'orders from above', and 'they said it just wasn't cricket, and wouldn't play anymore, otherwise'.
I strode into battle. Spotting the foe in the distance, I grinned evilly, leaned back, and hit the thrusters.
Suddenly, my world turned upside down. Sideways. My PPC fire knocked an orbiting satellite out of the sky. A gauss round took a chip off my lancemate's shoulder. All over the place. Cursing and swearing, I eased off the jets, and she settled down again with a faint grumble, cushioning her landing with a faint sigh of relief.
My hands were shaking. What was I to do? My life as a mech pilot was over. All those MONTHS honing these skills, all for naught.
I choked. I couldn't breathe. This was too much. I reached for the ejection button that would launch me into sweet oblivion. Probably also vibrating me into a bag of mashed goo if Arthur had gone and messed with the damn pod jets too. That stopped me. Mashed goo. Was not keen.
Then suddenly, like a clarion call from the heavens, salvation arrived.
The foe, who I had only ever considered a heartless horde of uncivilised savages, cut through the radio chatter with his rallying cry!
"okey guys! they dun have any of that **** poptart crap anymore! charge!"
I could not believe my ears. Nor my eyes, as they strode nobly towards me, unflinching. Guilt washed over me. I'd always treated these lads as nothing more than mere cannon fodder, ducks in my endless funfair mech shooting gallery.
Now, in my darkest hour, instead of hiding and cowering, they supported me at my lowest. When I could no longer bless them from up high and afar, they would come to me.
The moments that ensued were a blur. At the end of it, as I saluted the last of them with a grateful gauss round to the face, I took a moment to give thanks.
Never again would I take these people for granted. Nor would I belittle or judge them for their misbegotten idiocy. For I know come what may, these brave lads will always be there for me, charging into my guns even when I cannot bring them to bear.
