Filston's Initiation (Part III)by Fabio Fontana
Mauler-7562
was twitching. At times it spasmodically twisted an arm or stepped to the
side. If it had been a living creature it would have appeared to be agonizing.
***
Filston
could not hear the wind, but he could feel occasional gusts across his face.
His head felt wet and everything hurt. The detonation had deafened him, he had
been rammed to his console, he should have remained strapped to the the chair
even after his host got disabled; that was basic training.
Painfully, he brought a hand to his face and tried to feel
the damage. As he thought, the wetness was blood, but
the wound was superficial.
With
both arms pressed against the console, he pushed to regain a sitting position.
The pain was not too bad. He was probably still in one piece. The MeRoCC was
left in twilight, the only illumination coming from the front slits of the pilot's
compartment and one of the emergency lamps. He still could
not hear anything, and hoped that the damage would not be permanent.
There
was little movement inside the MeRoCC. The hull had been breached letting
the outside atmosphere
and red dust inside, but luckily the hole was on the underside of the vehicle and
not fully exposed to the storm. He crawled over to
Alek who was shivering and breathing spasmodically, still strapped in her
seat. She did not seem to notice him when, in the darkness, he felt her body in search
of the wound that was causing such agony. Two slices of metal were impaled
in her abdomen and chest. His medical knowledge was too limited to help her,
but he looked for a medikit. In the overhead locker he found one and
went over to the only emergency light to rummage inside the box and locate a pain-killer.
After
administering a self-injecting dose of anaesthetic to Alek, he inspected the
rest of the MeRoCC. Bianco’s seat had been tossed to the side, presumably with
Bianco still tied to it. Bianco was still breathing and, as Filston bent over the seat,
he turned his head slightly. He was still conscious and tried to speak; Filston got as
close as he could to Bianco’s mouth to hear what he was whispering.
"My
legs... crushed..." said Bianco with a considerable effort.
Filston
heard him, a sign that he was at least recovering some of his hearing, and
inspected the end of the seat. It was wedged against the alcove
in the console that normally accommodated the lower part of the seat
and the legs of the robot controller. He placed one foot against the console
and pulled as hard as he could. The seat shifted a little. He tried again.
Bianco cried in pain as his legs were freed at last of the painful vice. Filston injected
him a dose of pain-killer too.
The
main console was still intact as was the front part of the cabin. Captain
Neden was lying on the floor near his seat. He was not breathing and his head
was bloodied. The explosion had hurled him with enough force to kill him
outright.
Taggarth
was slouched forwards in his seat and was unconscious. He did not seem wounded
but, despite Filston's attempts, he would not regain consciousness. Filston
was the only able bodied person inside a crippled vehicle stuck in a combat zone
in the middle of a sand storm.
Was the evac team on the way? He didn’t know. The main console was dead like
the rest of the MeRoCC. He leaned stunned against the pilot’s seat unable to
think about what to do next.
***
The
roar of another explosion shook him from his dizziness, someone was still fighting out
there. Terror took hold of him. If the enemy was still alive, they would soon
come to check the MeRoCC. The MeRoCC had light infantry weapons for the crew,
but what kind of resistance could he put up? If he ran, leaving his
crew mates to certain death, he would probably perish in the storm, and
should he survive he would be court martialed.
"Filston..."
Bianco’s voice shook the grip of fear momentarily. Filston went over to
him.
"Pitbull is still active... Use
the short range robot control unit... in the locker next to the side-arms...
" whispered Bianco.
Filston
had no training with a Pitbull, but he felt he had more chances with an
unfamiliar robot than with a rifle. He reached the arms cabinet and found
it open. It’s contents were scattered about the floor. He looked for the
control unit: the case appeared to be still intact and he balanced it as best as he could on
top of his own console. He held is breath and switched it on. The portable console
booted its primary systems and asked for the robot’s ident-card.
With feverish
movements, Filston opened the front panel of Bianco’s console,
located the card and pulled it out.
He inserted the card into the side panel of the portable console while whispering
a prayer for it to work. He adjusted the
VR monocle over his right ear and eye and fastened the composite glove over
the right arm; finally he flipped the activation switch of the unit. To his
relief he started to get visual feed-back from the robot. He also recognised the
surroundings: it was very close to the fight.
Filston
issued the command to move. The host stepped forwards. He tried to turn,
step forwards and backwards to see how the robot reacted. As long as he
kept its movements simple and clean he should be able to manoeuvre efficiently it despite
the machine’s adaptation to Bianco’s control patterns.
***
Pitbull-3030A
circled around the few buildings that separated it from the
MeRoCC. With an alien mind inside its head, its movements were imprecise. It
did not accelerate to full speed, to avoid having to make jerky motions on
the run.
It
past the last corner to face the remains of the battle. It could see the
MeRoCC and Mauler-7562: the Mauler sat
on the ground, its legs and one arm had been blown off. Men in grey
exoskeletons were tampering with the other arm, possibly to salvage it, maybe to
use it against the MeRoCC. Their servo-assisted movements were not impaired by
the storm and they had opened the Mauler’s case to access its innards.
***
Filston
was left surprised to watch, through the robot’s cameras,
the Gauss Destroyer fire against the MeRoCC.
They were firing not at his robot, but at his person!
He held his breath and prepared for the worst, but the arm had been positioned
manually and was no longer servo-assisted, so the shot went wild.
Adrenaline
started pumping through Fliston’s veins. He pointed all four of the Pitbulls
weapons at the Mauler and the men around it. He squeezed the triggers and
watched the shots fly towards their targets. The fast cannons and light cannons
poured shells into the designated area at an impressive rate. Craters formed
one after the other in the red dirt and on the damaged
Mauler as the shells found their mark. Two men took direct hits and were blown apart
like water-filled balloons.
The
remaining soldiers returned fire. Laser sights flashed towards the
Pitbull, followed by high energy shots that burned across its carapace. It was
ineffectual, but another shot from the Gauss Destroyer towards the MeRoCC made
Filston falter. They knew that to disable the robot they had to kill him
inside the vehicle!
The
shots landed near the MeRoCC causing it rock vigorously. An acrid gust of hot wind
penetrated the innards of the vehicle, reaching Filston's nostrils.
Filston urged the Pitbull forwards.
***
With
giant strides Pitbull-3030A charged towards the Mauler and the men concealed
behind it. It stopped past the wrecked robot and pivoted on the spot,
almost tripping as a result of the
clumsy manoeuvre. Now it was face to face with the enemy: it opened fire. The
ground exploded ahead. Armoured exoskeletons were tossed aside like
cards, others were perforated. Pitbull-3030A advanced crushing the bodies of
the soldiers in front of it.
Without
a way to escape and at point blank range, the men in exoskeleton tried to aim
their measly weapons at the weak spots of the robot. The actuator of one shoulder was
blown to pieces, locking the arm at an useless angle. But Pitbull-3030A kept
advancing and firing. Advancing and firing. Advancing and firing…
***
Suddenly
the control unit went dead. Filston was stunned: what could have happened? How could they have destroyed the Pitbull? He could not understand.
If that was the case they were all as good as dead. He stared blankly at the
screen, waiting for death to claim him.
"MeRoCC-C323
can you hear us? This is air transport 76S. We have disabled your out of
control robot. We are ready to Evac," said a voice over the inbuilt
communicator of the control unit.
Filston
did not reply. Out of control robot?
"Out
of control robot?" he asked.
"Series
Pitbull, ident 3030A. It had all its weapons locked and was firing at the
ground, but had no active targets. We disabled it. Are you
ready for evac?" replied the voice over the comm-link.
Out of
control robot... he had fallen to battle-frenzy, had been swallowed into the
blind rage of the fight without realizing where he was or what he was really
doing. Now, left in the silence, he could hear only the maddened beat of
his heart. He took two deep breaths before speaking again.
"Three
members of the crew are wounded and the captain is dead. Awaiting instructions
for evac," he replied exhausted.
THE END
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