Sometimes, squad commanders in Mecha Galaxy name their own squads. This is a story of Steven Firebird and the squad he calls The Scorchers.
Return from Santa, No thanks
CARLSEN CITY, CAISSA
September 23, 3318
The 144th Caisson Light Cavalry responded to protect civilians from the Mecha force sent by Evil Santa. This military unit was called “The Home Team” for a reason, and they were here to protect the planet, destroy these evil Mecha and keep the civilians safe.
Offshore, the Caissan Navy guided missile cruiser CMV-31 Tempest was bombarding the shoreline with ICE weapons and lasers. Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics (ICE for short) slowed Mecha operation and occasionally froze Mecha weapon systems and kept them from working correctly. Lasers, as pinpoint weapons, minimized collateral damage. These weapons had been chosen to minimize the fight so that citizens could evacuate.
All of his Scorchers were as they waited for retaliation from the Evil Santa Mecha force. Yet the counterattack was not coming as quickly as Steven Firebird expected. With lasers and ICE fired into the city, the naval attack designed to scatter the evil mechas from the military bunkers they’d taken around Carlsen City, the expected response wasn’t coming.
Steven Firebird contacted his unit commander, Michael Stephen Janus. “Commander, this is Firebird, what is your ETA? Over?”
A crackle came over the commlink. “I have ten Mecha, ETA ten minutes. I am at the central bunker, so I can refine Mecha builds here. What conditions will we be facing. Over?”
“So far, Commander, we are not experiencing much retaliation from the Evil Santa Mechas. We’re on board the Tempest, offshore, and are shelling the peripheral bunkers with ICE weapons and lasers into the city to get the Mecha out of the bunkers. Over.”
“Can we punch through or bypass the city bunkers and secure the Gate. Over?”
“I believe we can, we are two minutes from the city and I’ll lead my squad to the east and force them your way, Commander. Over?”
“All right. Let's try to pin them between the city and the cliffs below the bunker. Hopefully the naval bombardment will force them against the wall and we can rain down on them from above. Over.”
“Aye, commander. Oh! Commander, there is a special package in your Mecha that I placed before leaving. Over.”
“I'll check my cockpit, sir. Good luck down there. We're reconfiguring our weapon ports for ICE weapons now. ETA eight minutes. Over.”
“Aye, Commander, and godspeed. Over.”
“Janus, Out.”
As the CMV-31 Tempest maneuvered closer to the shore, Steven Firebird gave the command to scramble to one of the mobile piers that the Tempest had on board. They had to move quickly to set the trap and still draw fire away from the civilians. Caissa had never been invaded by any Mecha force before, and no citizen in the city seemed to know what to do. As the mobile pier lowered into the water, Firebird could see that already the outgoing coastal highways were jammed to a standstill.
Steven Firebird’s squad of Scorchers landed on shore and stomped into the east part of the city. As the Tempest kept up the bombardment with their naval ICE weapons and lasers, dozens, hundreds of Evil Santa Mecha came boiling out of the military hangars and bunkers to face the Scorcher squad. While many of the Mecha were standard military issue, Evil Santa had built some of his own to look like Christmas trees, gift wrapped boxes, and reindeer. It would have been silly if these Mecha weren’t armed to the teeth.
The battle began. Outnumbered, outgunned, the Home Team started fighting back. Firebird knew that he had the advantage even then. While the oncoming force had the upper hand in weapons and defensive armor, Clan Mecha were designed to end combat early and return to the special Craftsmen built bases that ran Mecha, regardless of model, through a quick assembly line process of simply replacing exterior armor so that they could return to battle in mere minutes for another sortie.The oncoming horde did not enjoy that advantage, and as the waves of smaller Mecha were cut down… they stayed down.
As the Scorchers were driving their opponents westward, Steven heard a chirp from his commlink. Three hundred yards away, a fifty ton Oggun Mecha turned to watch glints of light landing atop the snowy cliffs overlooking the city. Hundreds of tons of Mecha were landing, snow clouds spreading out in distant puffs as each heavy Mecha landed. Inside the cockpit, lit by the reds and greens and blues of the weapon displays, the tall Scorcher named Reaper, swept back his long black hair and toggled the mike inside the skull mask that covered his nose and mouth. His dark grey eyes glittered, as his tattooed hands gripped the controls. The trap was sprung. “Commander Janus has landed on the west side of the city!"As the Commander’s forces were fighting from the west, providing covering fire, and the Scorchers from the East, taking the brunt of the early front line fighting, waves of Evil Santa’s crazed Mecha forces were being pinned down and obliterated.
They weren’t stupid, and so north and south suddenly looked inviting. As the Evil Santa Mecha force was trying to flee away from the battle, Reaper broke off from the formation, changed his Oggun’s direction and came from behind to blow out the back of a Mecha shaped like a Christmas tree. It jingled as it went down. Reaper activated his commlink. “Another one bites the dust, Commander.” As Reaper came back to the battle, dragging the fifty ton carcass of this Christmas Tree Mecha back with him, he keyed his mike again. “Can I have this one as a trophy?”
Steven Firebird gruffly responded over the commlink, “Leave it to the side for now, Reaper. We are not done yet.” Firebird turned his Destroyer Jadoon to watch garishly painted boxes with feet, larger than cars, thump through the streets toward the sea.
The smaller force that went south met the guided missile cruiser Tempest. The cruiser had gone silent. Swarming out onto the open beach, the Mecha watched as naval guns and missile batteries pivoted into place, the true weapons of the mighty Caissan Navy. With one calm word from the captain, the beach of Carlsen City, lined with Mecha from shoulder to shoulder, exploded. Armored legs and arms spiraled into the sky, trailing smoke and fire.
The greater force escaped the city, northward bound. What they found was worse. Chessmen. The mass of the 144th Caissan Light Cavalry, roaring down from the cliffs, came wave after wave. Squads led by experienced arena fighters like John Merchant. Illya Ring. Scott Heyward. Ronny Widjaja. The Metal Warrior Twiki. The mysterious Red Hot Applesauce. Squads of ten and twelve rolled into the battle lines one after the other, each one retreating just long enough to repair only their exterior armor and to reload at the Craftsmen bases before rotating back to the front line, fully repaired and loaded.
And angry.
The Evil Santa Mecha had no such luxury, and the 144th Caissan Light Cavalry was on home ground.
As Commander Janus and the Scorchers finally met up in the center of the city, looking for hidden fox holes, fifty more Evil Mecha stormed into the central square to prepare a final stand against the two platoons. Fighting back to back, both squads dealt heavy damage to the Evil Santa Mecha, bursting them into parts, scattering the area as ejection pods arced toward the sky. As they whittled their opponents down to the very last Mecha, Firebird swore he heard a sizzling, crumpled Xmas Tree mech emitting a radio frequency from its exposed cockpit, repeating, "You haven't heard the last from Evil Santa. Hooooo, hoooo, hoooo!" over and over, like a broken toy.
As Steven Firebird pointed the Punisher Missile Pack to the last Mecha, he scowled at the recording that mocked him. Before the Mecha could repeat its singsong taunt again, he pressed the fire button on his console and the array of missiles destroyed the final Mecha. “Commander? Mission accomplished.” With that, he turned his “Destroyer” Jadoon toward the cliffs, returning to base to access damage and repair.
He had the brooding thought that it still wasn’t over. Something wasn’t right. Something was missing from the hidden eye.
Submitted by Steven Firebird # 960653