Tales of a Grunt Pt. 1 By Theo Peeples ID# 847147

"This whole pilot license for a Mech is ridiculous” I said aloud as I worked on my 6th beer. After trying and failing 3 times, I had become depressed. The only reason I was even trying for the license was for the pay increase. After years of fighting in the trenches with my trademark old Earth M249 SAW and the old trusty S&W 500 at my hip, it was becoming clear to me that the days of the foot soldier were coming to and end. Contracts were drying up, more and more people were relying on pilots. I have seen several in my time, most were the equivalent of cyborgs. So many enhancements that they almost didn’t look human. The only reason I was failing the test was I refused to rely on the annoying computer systems of the mech. Why should I? I’m a soldier, I’ve fought in more battles then these AI decked out weak stomached little pieces of trash. I’ve seen and been in more shit than a toilet on Novum.

As I stumble out of the bar, making my way back home, I get a call from dispatch, “We have a contract for you. Search and destroy.” As I accepted, I wondered if this was going to be my final contract, first one I was offered in over a month. I accepted.

As we are dropping on some god forsaken planet, a call comes in, “We have reports of light mechs in the area, Ants, Shocklites and a single Warhorse, all are in or near your area of operation, advise caution.” I turn and look at this rag tag group of grunts, many of whom I’ve fought with and against in the past, I see the general fear and disgust in their face. We don’t definitely didn’t bring any anti mech weapons, nor are we the silent type.

As we move through the wooded area to our target location, we see a break in the trees. The small town was in sight. We began to set up in our positions, the goal to make the kills and leave. We were wrong. All it took was one half drunk fool to set off the motion scanners and all hell broke loose. The Ants began to mow them down. I had no feelings about them, we were mercs, paid soldiers. I was moving on the edge of the battle zone, stalking the target. I spot him, line up the sights prepared to go full auto, then that damn Warhorse spots me, begins shooting. I duck behind cover. The fire was relentless, it felt like days, but only a few hours.

Then the fire stops. As I sit there, waiting to see what his next move is, the cockpit opens, and the pilot comes stumbling out. Looks like a shutdown. He heads for the center of the town to meet up with his other fellow pilots. As I stare at this mech just sitting there, I think to myself, “Aw hell, why not”. I light up a cigarette, and begin moving toward the shutdown mech. I make my approach, watching for any movement or sign of a trap. I climb in the cockpit, and close the hatch. I start it up, and realize the only thing wrong with it was the targeting systems were defunct. I can make this work, no license required for stealing a mech. Time to show these people there is no substitute for a true Grunt.

Time to give them HELL!