Chapter Sixty-Four - Getting Hot

Chapter Sixty-Four - Getting Hot

Chapter Sixty-Four - Getting Hot

Why is it always giant mechs with those damned samurai?

--Respectfully, sir, because theyre cool.

-Exchange between staff sergeant and general, the Pergignan incursion of 2032

***

I hopped to the side, then swiped a paw forwards. With my claws fully extended, the void terminus blades simply moved through the space occupied by any of the aliens in their path, leaving nothing but chunks behind.

My attention wasnt just on those nearby, however. I had half an eye aiming my twin Gatling guns which were both raining constant fire on any of the smaller models around. It only took a split second of concentrated fire to rip through an entire swarm of model ones, and barely any more than that to kill dozens of model threes.

Which was good, because the antithesis here were really going all out with the numbers.

A small siren rang in the back of my head and I fired up the jump thrusters in the mechs feet while pushing back with my... its rear legs, sending me and the mech flying back half a dozen metres.

It was enough to avoid the exploding, tangled mess of an antithesis artillery ball.

Where had that warning come from? A quick check of my systems showed that Id received a ping from the warmechs lidar system that had detected an oncoming projectile and beamed the warning right into my brain.

I shook my head, and only realized a split-second later that Id made the mech shake its head too.

This was getting weird.

I wasnt exactly sharing most of my senses with the Mechcatular Nyanzerfaust, but a lot of its controls were linked to my augs, and I was controlling it with an ease and familiarity that was freaky. It was like getting dressed with the lights off while I knew exactly where Id thrown my pants.

Or something like that. I was moving and acting and controlling this thing as if it was second nature, but I hadnt practised for it. Some bits of me were confused as hell.

The rest of me really wanted to just kick back and have fun, because this was a fucking blast. I mechashifted my sides open and watched as a dozen model threes charged my way, each one of them salivating at the thought of taking a chomp out of me.

So I deployed my 105mm guns and fired both.

The explosion changed the minds of the aliens in a rather permanent fashion as it spread them over a couple of acres.

The guns reloaded automatically, ejecting a pair of casings that I could fit my arm into with a very satisfying ker-chunk while I sprayed another horizontal sweep through the smoke the explosion had knocked up with my Gatling guns.

Having fun? Gomorrahs voice asked in my ears.

I redeployed the 105mm guns and fired, letting the mechs auto-targeting software do most of the work after I highlighted the targets I wanted dead.

And they did a fantastic job of making them very dead.

That seemed to piss them off, at least judging by the way they all stared at me, some of them pacing the edge as if waiting. It struck me just how fucking alien these aliens were. They were too calm.

Then the water behind them bulged out in two places. To the right came a model twenty-two, a mobile hive like the one Id just put down a few minutes ago. It clambered onto the shore with the ponderous movements of a lazy elephant and ten times the girth. Smaller flying models were already pouring off of it and taking to the air to swarm above. It pushed the entire line of aliens forwards, sending dozens to their deaths as they fell into the flames.

To the left came that one model that Id only caught a glimpse of underwater.

Now I could see it in the ultra-sharp contrast provided by my mechs sensor suite.

It was long and tall, with a head half the size of my mech with jaws that looked like it could chew concrete and two very, very long legs that were longer than all the rest of it.

The legs were really throwing me off, actually. The model twenty-three was a good two or three metres taller than my mech, but that was while it was crouched. This thing basically had chicken-style legs, with fat, armoured thighs and a skinny pair of forearms that looked way too human for comfort, even if their size was all wrong.

Basically, it was a fucking t-rex if a t-rex could be made out of weeds.

The alien swivelled its head, and its too-many eyes locked onto me across the sweltering sheen of fire between us.

Then it ran.

Is that thing fireproof? I asked.

Yes.

Fuck!

I quickly aimed right at it and fired from both cannons, then watched in disbelief as one of the rounds ricocheted right off its thigh with nothing to show for it but a small explosion and some light searing. The other punched into its chest and did fuck-all.

You might want to move. This mech isnt rated to resist the biting force of a model twenty-three.

Got it, I said. Didnt need to be told twice.

I turned, fired a parting shot with the one cannon still able to turn enough to shoot towards it, then I tucked the guns away and took off running.

We were in a residential area, with plenty of lake-side apartments and nicer homes with little lawns.

Id have to see if I could get this thing to lose me in all of this mess so that I could punch a hole through its ugly head.

***