The Conglomerate Flail

The Bridge Burners: The Planetside Legacy
The Amerish Zerg, Part 4: The Conglomerate Flail

The Galaxies roared into the sky leaving trails of black smoke as their afterburners burned the raw fuel being dumped into the still cold engines, the Vanu temporary command post at Cetan was fast left behind. There were a few NC BFRs still in the surrounding area, but they were only of a basic model, Staceh and the boys would have no more trouble with them than they would with a couple of Vanguards. It was the customised mech that the Lance commander piloted that posed the real threat, not just to the VS on Amerish now but to the entire war effort. How the New Conglomerate managed to mate a dispersion artillery cannon to a Peregrine was anybody’s guess, even with the plans stolen from the labs in Ikanam they still would have encountered the fundamental problem of Ancient Tech being completely incompatible with modern power supplies. The Vanu, who lived and breathed the legacy of the Ancients from the early days of the Auraxis colony, had still never successfully managed to integrate the technologies. All their unique weaponry was still nothing more than a bastardisation, AT reverse engineered until the design could be applied to modern platforms, but the efficiency was nothing compared to the power output from the Core crystals.
“The Sabres have checked in,” Staceh’s voice broke over the comms, “HoaX reports some damaged foliage to the north west. Other than that we’ve got nothing to go on.”
From the troop bays of the lead Galaxy Sultan responded, “Roger that, boss, we’ll check it out.”
“Good luck guys. I’ll keep the Sabres out there for another while, maybe something more substantial will show up.”
In the cockpit of the lead Gal Chutney opened a channel to MrSubliminal piloting the other dropship, “Subs, bank hard to starboard, we’ve a new heading at north by north west.”
“Roger that, Chutney,” Subs replied, throttling back on his starboard engine, “way-point is locked, I’m making the turn.”
Subs and Chutney had been piloting for the Amethyst Lancers for so long now that the unit had practically adopted them as their official pilots. It was a good choice, the pair worked well together, especially under the kind of heavy fire that the ALs tended to draw.
“Lancers, this is HoaX, I have a confirmed sighting of the target. I’m lazing it now.”
An orange WP blazed on the HUD radar of each of the Lancers, it was go time.
*****
“We’ll do a standard death alley approach,” Sultan ordered, “hem him in and hammer it into dust.”
The Galaxies drifted apart and came level with each other, ready to pass the BFR on either side whilst dropping the Lancers in stages, one after the other.
“Afterburners in 3… 2-“
An Anti Air missile struck the first dropship lurching it up in the air, the sky around the craft erupted in a hail of flak.
Vastian poked his head into the cockpit over Sub’s shoulder, “What the hell is happening to Gold squad’s Gal?”
“The BFR has made us, or at least it, already.” Subs replied dourly as he manoeuvred the craft away from a cloud of shrapnel, “My guess would be that a ghost must have planted a tracker on the ship.”
“Goddamn cloakers!” Vastian cursed as another hail of fire hit the Gal.
Another missile struck the port wing causing the ship to roll hard to starboard, a drop bay popped open mid roll and as if in slow motion somebody fell out.
“Faaayyyyeeeee!” Mashed’s voice cut over the comms.
“Faye?” Vastian ran to the back of the troop bay and opened one of the loading bays. Leaning out he watched the REXO armour tumbling through the air, suddenly looking so insignificant and fragile.
“Come on girl, activate your drop wave,” he found himself saying.
“She took a nasty knock in that last volley,” Mashed said across the comm channel, “she could be out cold.”
Literally metres above the tree line Faye’s drop wave suddenly kicked in, slowing her descent, then she hit the trees and the wave could no longer function. Over the TS channel they could hear her curse and yelp as she tumbled through the branches before a final ‘oof!’ as she hit the ground.
“Faye, stay very still,” Sultan ordered, knowing that the soliton trackers on the BFR could only pick up a moving target, “Faye? You hear me girl?”
“Uuh,” came softly over the comms, “I got it.”
“Subs,” Vastian called over TS, “wind out the grapple on the port wing and swing back around but do not slow down.”
“Got it, Vast.”
The lead galaxy dived, narrowly avoiding another volley of AA fire. One of its forward bays opened to reveal Mashed gripping firmly with one hand to the overhead Jesus-Bar, another bay opened to the rear of the craft with Sultan standing at the edge, who reached out and caught the grapple winding back from his own Galaxy’s wing.
Vastian grabbed his grapple as it came level with him and watched as the cable wound further out into the sky, and there behind them was the monstrous biped of the BFR. The first Gal passed over the mech and he saw a grenade fall down onto the sensor pod, moving too slowly to be registered as a threat by the BFR shields. The small explosion of the frag grenade was more than effective for its purpose; the sensor pod was torn to shreds with the blast.
Vastian, still holding the grapple, dived out of the dropship and swung far out into the sky as the wind and gravity caught him.
“Ok, Faye,” Mashed said as he tossed the spent grenade cap into the air, “its blind. Stand up but stay where you are.”
The ground was getting closer very quickly, thanks to drop waves Vastian had forgotten how fast true freefall actually felt; God it was a rush. Ahead he saw Faye get slowly to her feet, then he saw that the BFR pilot had also spotted her, and the bastard was bringing the dispersion cannon to bear. He must be good to try and aim that thing manually, Vastian thought, one chance, there wouldn’t be another.
“Subs, I hope you’ve got that thing stable otherwise I’m going to be a hell of a lot shorter by the end of this.”
The ground was only a few meters away when Vastian activated his drop wave, it flared white beneath him and the ground rushed by, but since it never registered contact thanks to the grapple suspended from the dropship he was able to surf the wave towards his comrade.
Faye staggered, she was more than a little dazed from her fall when all of a sudden she was yanked into the air as all around her filled with the electric roar of superheated plasma. As she swung higher she looked around to see Vastian holding onto her equipment rack with one hand and a grapple cable with another.
“Oh Vastian, you’re my hero,” she said jokingly in a cooing voice as they rose into the sky.
“Its not over yet,” Vastian said as they continued to swing higher, “face forward.”
The two Gals were approaching each other head on, Sub’s Gal was rising whilst Chutney’s was in a steady dive, and the gap was rapidly closing. They passed within inches of each other and as Chutney’s Gal roared over their heads Faye spotted Sultan swinging down from his grapple. It was so quick that you’d have thought that this was a professional trapeze act as Sultan caught Faye as he and Vastian passed, holding her in a much more secure position than Vast had been able to.
“Wheel us in,” Sultan ordered as Faye wrapped her arms around him.
Seeing that their forces were now secure Vastian let go of the grapple, letting his drop wave carry him safely to the Amerish surface. The BFR crunched about among the trees ahead, trying to visually locate any Vanu in the vicinity, though without it’s soliton particle sensors it was having no success.
“Indigo Squad, drop on my position,” Vastian ordered, and looking overhead he saw the other four members of his squad drop from MrSubliminal’s Galaxy circling.
“Vast, its HoaX. You up for doing a Catherine Wheel?”
The Sabres commander was somewhere close by, an orange dot appearing on Vastian’s HUD as the IFF signal was registered.
“Sure thing, Major, good idea,” Vastian sent back, then to the other Galaxy, “Sultan, we’re going to give you boys a clean shot.”
“Roger that, Vast, we’ll be ready,” Sultan replied.
The troops on the Gold squad dropship began loading up their lancers and lining themselves along the loading doors. Faye crouched down and was just raising her lancer when she felt a hand on her shoulder.
“Here,” Sultan stood proffering to her a decimator rocket launcher, “I thought that maybe you’d like a little payback.”
“Do I ever!” Faye took the weapon and gave the first missile a big kiss, “This baby is going to fly straight and true.”
“We’re making the turn,” Chutney called from the cockpit, “better tell Vast and HoaX to do whatever it is they’re gonna do.”
“Vast, this is Sultan. We are green light.”
Those aboard the galaxy gripped the overhead railing as the craft began to lean hard into the turn, the internal lights dimmed as they readied their approach.
Vastian looked up and saw the Galaxy come hard to starboard in the distance. The BFR saw it too, and began to dumb fire its anti air weaponry, missiles sailing wildly into the sky and clouds of black smoke and shrapnel erupted like fireworks.
“Roger that, looks like you’re in for some chop.”
Indigo squad lined up a couple of metres behind Vastian and aimed their mighty lancers at the Peregrine.
“Ok Amethyst Lancers, this is what we live for. When you see the signal fire only at the legs or the power core if you have a clean shot, this is Gold Squad’s kill.”
Through the trees running towards Vastian was HoaX, looking deceptively fragile in his infiltration suit. At full sprint he neared Vast in seconds and jumped, the lieutenant grabbed his outstretched arms and began to spin as fast as he could, then as Vast rounded towards the BFR he flung the Sabres Major as hard as his muscles would allow. HoaX twisted in the air, as he did he engaged his cloaking unit and shimmered into little more than a whisper of air. Vastian dropped to a crouch and dizzily raised his lancer.
There was a slight flicker on the BFR’s shields and HoaX decloaked hanging on to a slot in the BFR’s armour, hanging as it happened right next to the glowing shield generator. He slapped a boomer onto the generator, dropped to the ground and dived into the bushes, flicking the switch in mid air. A small shockwave washed out as the generator erupted in a hail of fire and metal.
“FIRE!” Vastian ordered, and the air sizzled with the high-energy slugs fired from the lancers.
The BFR hesitated slightly as it took two rounds in its left leg, a round in its primary actuator and another in the power core shielding. Vastian’s shot missed entirely, sizzling harmlessly through the air, off the three BFRs he was seeing he’d fired at the wrong one. The Gold squad’s Gal roared into view, its port bays open to reveal the Amethyst Lancer Gold and orange squads, all crouched and ready to fire. Mashed shot out the anti air launchers with two well-placed lancer rounds.
“Its all yours, Fayeski,”
“Who’s my bitch,” she quipped as the dumb-fire rocket roared from the decimator and tore into the unshielded cockpit of the Peregrine. The smoke trail, from the ground, looked like a great black arrow of death, fired by Fayeski’s avenging angel.
The mech wobbled slightly, took two steps backwards before finally exploding spectacularly, sending showers of debris bouncing of the Galaxy, and a chunk of armour bearing the New Conglomerate logo nearly taking Kamikazejay off at the knees.
As the smoke cleared revealing the burnt out remains of the battle frame Sultan spoke with genuine sorrow, “That was disappointing.”
“What?” Mashed asked, “We got the bastard, rescued the girl, saved the day.”
“Yeah, I suppose…”
“Well then, what?!”
“I guess I kinda expected a bigger explosion, what with all the Ancient Tech in that thing,”
Mashed thought about that for a second, “Actually, you’re right. That did suck.”
*****
In a clearing about a kilometre north the two Gals landed to wait for Indigo Squad, which was delayed because the lieutenant had to stop every so often to throw up from the disorientation.
“You’re such a big girl,” HoaX laughed, as Vastian threw up over a rare blue orchid, ironically a favourite among the NC.
“Uugh, I feel like I’ve spent the night shooting Rillian Whiskey with Dekov,” Vastian replied, taking a couple of deep breaths as his stomach settled, he could feel the colour return to his cheeks.
The rest of the squad still wore their helmets, not wanting to be separated from their HUDs in a hotzone, plus it served as a welcome distraction to the sound of their lieutenant puking his guts out.
Shortly they met up with the rest of the unit, the area well CE’d by the troops not carrying AL gear, whilst Gold squad placed whatever mines they carried before lounging by the dropships.
Faye came running over and threw Vastian a hug, “Thank you for swinging out to me, you and Sultan.”
Sultan, already well hugged out, sat propped against one of the engines of his Galaxy and was tearing open a ration bar. He looked over at the still slightly pale Vastian and said with a smile, “You think you could handle an MRE?”
“Hell no,” Vast replied, lying down next to one of the great dropships, “but I think I could handle a short nap.”
“I’ll take one of those bad-boys, Sult,” Mashed laughed, “a bit of grub and a rest would be nice.”
Sultan tossed a bar over to Mashed just as the TS channel came to life.
“Amethyst Lancers, this is Staceh. Well done guys, that was a great job. We’ve detected a lance of Terran Republic Battle Frames coming through the northern warp gate, command has requested that the Amethyst Lancers head up and give them a welcome.”
Mashed and Vastian looked at each other, then Mashed’s eyes fell to the bar in his lap.
Sultan stood and hefted his lancer, “And why the hell not.”