User talk:Screwball

[b]Bonn Earth[/b]

The seeker's simple electronic brain considered where it was, and considered where it wanted to be. Considering that it would miss the window that was its objective, it adjusted its stabilising fins slightly to alter its course into a neat arc through the empty space that had once held a pane of glass. Inside, it let a few fractions of a second pass before triggering the explosive charge at the head of the seeker. It didn't feel uncomfortable at the prospect of its demise, or, indeed, comprehend that such a thing as 'feelings' were possible but had objects been capable of doing so, it probably would have at least felt satisfaction for a job well done.

The shrapnel from the round flew across its lethal radius at twice the speed of sound. Intended to deal with foes layered in strong shields, armoured in advanced composites and incapable of feeling pain, the 'shrapnel' was in fact a collection of submunitions, each possessing its own tiny targeting system and shaped charge, as well as the actual casing of the original round. A sphere of fire blossomed around the windows and gaps in the maintenance shed's walls as the League support weapons opened up, and Throne soldiers fell. Some of them were screaming, but many simply dropped silently, missing large portions of their bodies.

Giancolo dropped to the ground behind a pile of rubble and hoped that one of the Leaguers' infernal weapons didn't decide to wait just a [i]bit[/i] longer than the rest before it decided to try and kill them. Here and there, a rifle cracked, but Giancolo didn't bother to even try. Even if he'd managed to [i]hit[/i] anything – a tall order when fighting foes who could shoot around corners or through solid walls, and see through their mechanical eyes as well as the most accomplished mage – his rifle wouldn't have done any damage to a League soldier. They were armoured and shielded like light armoured vehicles.

The lightning thrower lit off once, then again, and the fire slackened briefly. Then, one of the burst weapons flew through the window. Something red and squishy splashed over Giancolo's shoulder, and he hoped that nobody heard him whimper.

“My Lord, you can't!” The voice of the platoon's senior mage was audible, even over the din of combat. “These are distractions! Their main attack will be on the west wall. If you pull men and weapons away, they will...”

“It doesn't matter if they do or don't!” Leopoldo Martini was the third son of some minor noble from a holding Giancolo had never even heard of, but he was brave, Giancolo would give him that. He was standing upright and walking around as though the explosions and screams all around him were an everyday occurrence, apparently entirely unconcerned with the prospect that some whizzing sliver of metal or explosive would remove important portions of his anatomy. “If their 'diversionary' assaults are sufficient to break us in their target areas, their main attack won't even be necessary! We need to withdraw from this position or reinforcements.”

“My Lord, our orders...”

“We can't do anything to the Directorate if we're stuck here getting our faces ripped off. If we're not to simply leave for a more favourable battlefield, then you can tell Captain Benitolo that he needs to do something about this, because God knows [i]we[/i] can't when he insists on putting us in this position!”

“Ah, at once, My Lord.”

• * *

Gretchen had no warning; one second, they were alone, and the next, fifteen Throne soldiers appeared out of thin air in and amongst the two sections she was about to lead to the attack. From the way they sent three of her soldiers tumbling across the pavement to lie motionless, most of them were mages as well. The League soldiers scattered, dropping into cover more fore concealment than protection – anything that could threaten a person in battle armour would sneer at a mere metre of building or rubble – and the two Sarissas opened fire on the new arrivals. Screaming indicated that at least one of them was down, but they'd appeared in cover, so without a remote in position, she couldn't see much. Then again...

“Let 'em have it!” she bellowed over the net.

Seven energy rifles, two 5cm energy cannons and six seeker launchers obliterated the area the mages had tried to seek shelter. The screaming stopped.

“Boss, they just tried to bounce us with teleports,” Diego announced over the comm net. She could hear fighting over his link. “I didn't lose anybody, but they got away before we could do more than wing 'em.”

“Yeah, they had a little surprise for us too. Keep up the pressure on our target, we might be longer than anticipated.” One of her remotes caught sight of one of the Throne mages popping into existence elsewhere. He started creeping forwards. “Fuck it, they're not dead. Look sharp boys and girls, they're still around!”

She turned and fired into the wall next to her, and had the satisfaction of watching the chest of the man sneeking around inside the building dissolve into superheated bloody steam.

“Get the [i]fuck[/i] off of my planet, shitheel.”