Use until destruction. - Annotation on select Hamburger Kingdom Military Personnel Records, Age of Paranoia
"JINK RIGHT!" Treefrog-228155 yelled.
Pan'nikk dodged right, throwing himself through the wall.
The barrage of tank shells exploded where he had been four seconds prior, wasting their fire and fury on the interior of the twelve city block square skyraker Pan'nikk was running through.
"UP!" Treefrog shouted.
Pan'nikk just jumped, hurtling two tons of powered armor up through three floors of office building. His battlescreen was down but he didn't even notice the filing cabinets that tumbled away from him. He kept running, leaned forward and using his legs like pistons.
The graser blew apart the three floors below him as the gunners tried to bring the hate but caught nothing but air.
"RIGHT TURN!" Treefrog yelled. His voice was still high and breathy, but he sounded 'older' in a lot of ways after two weeks of combat.
Without even thinking Pan'nikk turned, 2209 spiking the grav and twisting it, letting Pan'nikk do a damn near 90 degree turn in less than two steps.
Five steps and the whole front of the office building in the direction he had been going turned blue and began to dissolve into twinkling powder being carried away on the breeze. The loud FRUMM! ca a whole two seconds after a huge sphere a third of the way into the building had just dissolved into sparkling blue powder.
"HOLY SHIT, I'M JUST A SCOUT, YOU CHILD EATING BASTARDS!" Pan'nikk yelled.
"UP FIFTY!" Treefrog yelled in the middle of Pan'nikk yelling.
Again, Pan'nikk reacted without thinking. He just threw himself up, hard enough he flew nearly fifty ters up, going straight through the floor and ceiling. There was still a blinking line pointing up and he jumped again and again, getting himself fifty floors up in less than five seconds.
The maser cannons raked the entire level he had once been on. The endosteel structural beams twinkled and vanished as the maser cannons cored out a third of the skyraker's width for five stories up and down from where Pan'nikk was running for the far side of the skyraker.
--get out get out get out-- 2209 said.
The route appeared.
"Good news, boss! We won't be pinned down in this skyraker much longer!" Treefrog chirped helpfully. "It's going to fall over soon!"
"Running running running," Pan'nikk chanted as he started running along the route.
He blew through two walls and jumped up through a floor.
The skyraker gave another groan and began to shudder and lean to Pan'nikk's left.
Pan'nikk kept running. He got one arm up and threw himself through the macroplas and out into open space. He rolled at the top of the arc as he flew across the thirty ter wide boulevard. He finished the roll, managing to keep down his lunch, got his off-weapon arm up to shield his face and crashed through the ferrocrete siding of the next building. The dust and powder exploded around him, Pan'nikk using the montum, rolling across the floor, rifle tucked in close then popping up on his feet and taking off running through the skyraker he'd just crashed his way into.
His radio clinked.
"Scout One, report," the LT ordered.
"Enemy contact. Locked in. Still under fire. SITREP soon," Pan'nikk panted, still running through the new skyraker, heading for the far side to put as much cover between him and the enemy as he could. "Under fire from combined elents, reinforced division in strength. Recomnd CAS or FFE."
--yes battlescreens--
Pan'nikk saw the icon for his battlescreens start to flicker as they spun up to strength and started to grin.
There was a shrieking FREEEM! and on either side of him the structure of the skyraker vanished in a hellstorm of red beams that had bright orange energy circling the entire beam. The beams waved back and forth, annihilating the parts of the skyraker they so much as grazed, putting nearly two whole seconds of hate on the already wounded skyraker. The air itself burst into fla and Pan'nikk's battlescreen ca up just long enough for the reality-warping cavitation effects of a beam weapon asured in the petawatts to cause the battlescreen to imdiately collapse again.
--oh co on--
His grin turned to ash.
The beams winked out but the fire remained as even endosteel burned where the beams had touched.
"Clear visor, boss!" Treefrog cleared the HUD with a filter algorithm, letting Pan'nikk see the gaps in the floor. He hurtled over the gaps and just ran through the fire, following the glowing line on his HUD.
--zero point reactor two is fluttering--
"Understood," the LT's voice was calm and distant, like he was sitting in the relaxation chamber, staring out the window and bored. "Break contact soonest."
Pan'nikk knew that the battalion was busy absolutely gut stomping five tis their number in light warks only six miles from where Pan'nikk was scouting, which made the LT's bored voice almost offensive to Pan'nikk.
"Down!" Treefrog chirped.
"Evading," Pan'nikk said, cutting the line.
--this route-- 2209 tossed the line into Pan'nikk's HUD.
Pan'nikk altered direction, slamming through the side wall of the elevator shaft and dropping down.
The air turned blue as the beams raked the skyraker just above him, evaporating twenty stories and leaving the upper two thirds of the skyraker disconnected from the lower third.
He blew through the elevator, crashing through the ceiling and then through the floor.
"Good news, boss, you won't be on the surface streets," Treefrog said.
The wirefra appeared in the corner of his vision.
He was about to drop below the basents and the underground parking garages and into the underground maintenance spaces.
"Make sure there's no shelters down here, Froggy," Pan'nikk ordered.
--roger roger--
"Running acoustic and millitric scanning, boss!" Treefrog said, his chipper voice high and excited. "I'm helping!"
Taken from , this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
He hit the bottom of the elevator shaft, his feet smashing craters into the ferrocrete. He followed the standard landing, flexing his knees and hocks, punching down with his off hand so his fist crashed into the ground to bleed off kinetic energy. His head was bowed to take any hits on the heavily armored crest of his helt and his rifle held up in his other fist to keep it clear of debris.
He was silent for a long mont in the darkness.
"Good news, boss. Nobody down here," Treefrog stated.
"Good," Pan'nikk said. He straightened up. "Get us a route out."
"Scout-One, SITREP, over," Staff Sergeant Grayeyes ordered.
"Have broken contact with enemy. Secure below ground position. Heat and slush nominal. Ammo - nominal. Armor and reactors nominal," Pan'nikk said, still breathing heavy. "Contact. Heavy armor backed by infantry and self-propelled artillery, Division size, moving east by northeast, at Grid Hotel-Victor 19-38. Motherboxed it, relaying data."
"Good news, boss, I was able to upload our data to Brigade BATTACNET!" Froggy said.
"Contact, Heavy armor backed by infantry and light ground effect vehicles, Brigade Size, moving east by northeast, at Grid Hotel-Victor 20-38," Pan'nikk said.
"Good news! Receipt acknowledged!" Treefrog chirped.
--he's just so excited--
"Contact. Self-propelled artillery, escorted by infantry and light armored vehicles. Regint size. Moving east by northeast, at Grid Hotel-Victor 20-37. Contact. Power armor infantry escorted by warks and dium tracked armored vehicles. Regint size. Moving east by northeast, at Grid Hotel-Victor 19-37. Report Finished. Over," Pan'nikk said.
There was silence for a mont. "All right, Scout-One, get back here. Your teletry shows your armor is starting to feel it even if you aren't. Avoid enemy contact. Over."
"Roger that," Pan'nikk said. His chest had relaxed and he could breathe again.
"Foil Eagle-Six out," SSG Grayeyes said.
"Scout-One, out," Pan'nikk finished. He grabbed the elevator doors and wrenched them open. The underground section was dark, but full of machinery. His acoustic mapping went offline almost imdiately and his motion detection systems were overloaded within a hundred paces.
For a second he thought he spotted sothing, but when he turned to look it was gone. He had that feeling for a second, but there was nothing there. Still, he followed the map the millitric scanners were creating.
Once is happenstance. Might be all the movent from the machinery.
--taking zero point two offline top locking base crack-- 2209 said. --10 mikes to fix--
"How can you tell?" Treefrog asked.
--impedance check across base--
"Will you teach ?" Treefrog asked.
--when we get out of here--
Pan'nikk got that feeling. He thought he saw it again. It vanished when he slowed and turned to look.
Nothing.
Twice is coincidence.
"Being an engineer is complicated," Treefrog said.
--you'll learn--
Pan'nikk started reaching for the door handle when he got that feeling again. He stopped, his fingers only milliters from the manual door handle. He turned around slowly and stared.
Nothing.
He checked with infrared and other sensors.
Nothing.
Three tis is enemy action.
*"*Is there sothing wrong, boss? Sothing I can help with?" Froggy asked.
--what--
"Froggy, turn off all acoustic filters, all visual filters, all HUD elents but armor and weapon status, and switch my visor to one way clear," Pan'nikk said. "Double-deuce, get ready."
Pan'nikk flexed a muscle he didn't have and turned off his smartlink.
"Oh, OK, boss! I can help you with that!" Treefrog said.
--ok if sure--
Everything vanished into blackness. There were dozens, hundreds of LEDs and other pinprick light sources out there showing the various statuses of the machines that were running down in the subbasent. He could hear the whirring, the slamming, the clicking, the thumping of all the machinery it took to keep a sixteen square block footprint skyraker alive and running.
That feeling ran its fingers down his spine to the base of his tail. He slowly moved his off hand to the bottom of the barrel handgrips of his rifle as he brought the butt of the rifle up into the socket of his shoulder. He let go of the grip, wrapped the carrystrap around his forearm, then yanked it back as he took hold of the grip again.
"Gim forward rescue lights. Visible yellow-amber light only. Six hundred luns."
There was a click as he moved the giggle switch to full auto.
The lights ca on, illuminating in front of him.
"FUCK!"
"TARGETING, BOSS!"
--** ** **--
He started shooting. Not full auto, although it might have looked like it to soone else. Pan'nikk was yanking the happy switch as fast as he could change targets. Each bright red caret box got a happy tap that shattered the target with 10mm battlesteel APDSFS.
The roar of the rifle was swallowed by the chanical sounds as Pan'nikk opened fire.
The targets were orbs the size of a large human fist, with one dull orange eye in the middle that faced Pan'nikk, six little clicking crab legs, and a set of serrated endosteel mandibles in front of a mouth full of bandsaw blades. They were wrapped in articulated battlesteel armor orbs, letting them move quickly.
They'd flinched back from the light, but now that the shooting had started they clattered forward, climbing on the walls, the ceiling, the floor, along equipnt.
--thread grenades-- 2209 said.
"Why?" Treefrog asked.
The grenade launcher thumped four tis. The grenades went out less than 10 ters and exploded into whispy looking spiderwebs that imdiately almost turned invisible.
The robots that hit the threads were sliced apart by the monomolecular carbon chains.
Pan'nikk started stomping, firing his weapon one handed, using his other hand to grab any of them that jumped at him or tried to climb onto him. He slamd himself backwards against the wall just to the side of the heavy door when he saw an armor degradation alert for his back pop up. He turned and slamd a shoulder against the wall, crushing three of them off his shoulder pauldron. A glance up made it so instinct told Pan'nikk to step forward, get away from the wall.
"Get away from the wall before they cover us, boss!"
--watch wall ceiling--
They were flowing down the walls and across the ceiling and floor.
Instincts were built so you ran away. The Confederate military, and I, will teach you how to fight, not react!
The words of his Drill Instructor years back.
Instinct, logic, obvious tactical said to step forward, get away from the wall that the robots were swarming down.
Instead, he threw himself backwards through the door and fired a pair of thread grenades, one to each side of the doorway, even as he backed up. Six paces back and he was chest deep in water that stead and changed colors from the chemicals in it.
The ones still holding onto him shorted out.
--raising pressure armor compromised sleeve compromised--
A glance showed him that he had eleven armor breaches, four of them through the pressure sleeve. For a split second he had a ringing in his ears that cleared up suddenly.
"What were those, boss?" Treefrog asked.
His mouth tasted like flat fizzybrew as Pan'nikk heaved a sigh. "Anti-vermin bots set to kill, from the looks."
"Good news, Boss, looks like the coagulants and the anti-venoms are working!" Treefrog said. "You should survive to reach the surface and activate your d-beacon."
"How bad?" Pan'nikk asked. He couldn't feel anything but then he didn't know if the injuries were from razor sharp weapons that didn't leave behind pain or if his suit had compensated for the pain before he realized that he was injured.
"I should have the nanites contained in a minute or two. Good news, Boss, the divac should be able to run a nanite flush on you!" Treefrog chirped helpfully.
"OK, new lesson. Work with 2209, he'll help you. Nanites are machines and nobody handles machines like a greenie," Pan'nikk said. He stopped, looking up at the access point above him. He checked his onboard map, ignoring 2209 walking Treefrog through hacking the enemy nanites to take control of them.
His map said he would pop out about two miles south by southeast of the battalion main body.
He made sure his IFF was working, then turned it on.
Climbing out, he looked around.
The whole damn city was on fire. Explosions in the smoke and haze, strikers dropping out of the low storm clouds, often wreathed by lightning from the clouds. The rippling flat bluish-white flash of an atomic barrage in the distance.
He saw on his HUD that divac was on its way.
He looked around, saw what was left of a burnt out vehicle, and moved over to sit down.
When all of this started the fact that the driver was burned beyond recognition and still holding onto the steering wheel would have bothered him. The gunner in the ring mount was reduced to leathery burnt bacon and bone, but still holding onto the mostly-lted gun.
You pays you money you takes you chances, he thought.
The divac armor landed, fist down, opposite knee down, then slowly raised up.
"Looks like you're ambulatory, champ. Let's get you to the evac hospital," the dic said, using loudspeaker. "Your armor is chewed up pretty bad. Hell, it looks like it's partially lted on your left side."
"Been a busy day," Pan'nikk chuckled.
0-0-0-0-0
Pan'nikk slowly put his socks on, relishing the fact they were clean. Staff Sergeant Grayeyes and the LT ca in, looking around.
They stopped in front of him.
"Pack your stuff, trooper," the LT said.
Pan'nikk blinked. "What?"
"Wounded three tis. We take you off the line for a little while. Let you decompress," SSG Grayeye stated.
"That, and the Telkan Marine Corps wants you back," the LT said. "You'll be returning to the Telkan Systems."
"Oh," Pan'nikk said.
"Report to
when you're packed," the LT said, then turned and left.
"Don't mind him. We broke the Nooky's back in this sector thanks to your scouting. He's not mad at you, he's mad that he's losing a capable scout," SSG Grayeyes said.
"I'm really going ho?"
"You're really going ho."
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