Adventures of a Drunkard Pilot

Chapter 13: Back In The Game

"You sure they're gonna let us land?" I asked 2 hours later as i capped the now-full water bottle.

"They seemed completely surprised," Vox replied, still somewhat waking up, "but they were more than happy to receive someone who possesses the skills to kill the fabled Jester Squad."

"Lets hope this works then," Roberts chimed in from the cockpit. "ETA to target, 5 minutes. Might wanna get ready."

"Roger that," we all called up. I triggered the release on my harness and stood up. The gently rocking of the bird as it soared through the air made it hard to get my balance at first, but i quickly gained my equilibrium. I stashed the bottle of chew spit in my left cargo pocket with my left hand as i reached over and unlatched the restraints holding my back to the side of the cargo bay. With one hand i grabbed the shoulder strap and swung the assault pack onto my shoulders. i slipped my other arm through and shrugged it up high on my shoulders.

"Jester 1, radio check," Roberts' voice came over the radio.

"Misfit, check," i replied as i tightened the shoulder straps of my pack and latched the chest and lap belt. The pack had demolitions charges, extra ammo, a hacking tablet, a flask or 2, and a sawed-off double barreled 12 gauge shotgun strapped to the side.

"Reaper, check," Mitchell replied. He had shouldered his pack, which in addition to his extra ammo, contained engineering gear to seal and cut open doors, and to repair the Frames if need be.

"Saber, check," Arthur called next. He had shouldered his pack, filled with a broken-down M246A3 .485 SOCOM anti-frame sniper rifle and ammo, and was strapping his collapsible sword to his left hip. I remembered that i had my Combat Axe on me, and reached down to check it was still there. My right hand reached to the small of my back, and my artificial hand felt the small shape of the axe on the small of my back. The feeling sent a chill down my spine. How the hell did the robot hand give me the same feeling as my human one? I shrugged it aside and reached for my rifle.

"Jester 1-4, check," Vox replied last. We all looked at her, but she was too busy checking her pack's fit to notice us. I was about to ask about her call-sign when i remembered she didn't have one yet.

"Warbird copies all, on final approach," Roberts came back with, "Ready up!" I removed the magazine from my M4 and checked that it was loaded. Seeing that it still was, i slapped the magazine home and racked the bolt back. After it ran home, i pulled it back just an inch to check that a round had chambered. It had, so i slipped the sling over my head and put my left arm through it. I held onto the pistol grip with one hand, and with the other checked that all my pouched were secure. Good to go.

"You boys ready?" Arthur asked. Vox gave him a thumbs up, while Mitchell and I gave him a sly grin. The bird lurched and spun a 180, before coming to a stop with a slight CLANK as the landing gear settled on the deck of the carrier. The hatch opened, and before i could decide otherwise i sprinted out into the fray.

The first thing i saw was a small group of red-robed figures, 6 of them, standing on the deck. It was a wide open area with only the superstructure on the carrier showing. There was one who looked official and most senior, so i started by putting a round in his forehead. His brains exploded out of the back of his head, and all over everyone else. I sighted in my next target and fired, taking him down with a headshot as Mitchell opened up with a short burst that punched holes in the 3rd target's chest. Both robed figured dropped as i heard Arthur's DMR hiss out 4 rounds in quick succession. 4 targets that i hadn't noticed on the superstructure fell, now missing their heads entirely thanks to the fun new ammo we had gotten from R&D before we left. Vox, Mitch, and I all scoped in one a robed figure and fired. All 3 targets dropped simultaneously. The entire engagement took only 2 seconds. Without hesitating, we all ran over to a spot on the deck that we had designated beforehand. Arthur, Vox and I set up a triangle-shaped perimeter as Mitch reached into my pack and fished out a demo charge. He handed it to me and took my spot in the triangle as i stood up and walked to the exact spot that we had calculated. I put the dinner-plate shaped charge in the deck, turned the dial on the top to 15, and slammed my fist down on it.

"Armed!" I shouted. Everyone pushed out about 30 yards, keeping the perimeter but changing it to a square as i stepped in. A few more figures appeared on the superstructure, but were dropped by Arthur. I looked back at the Warbird in time to see it rise off the deck, employ it's cloaking, and disappear into a shimmer.

The charge went off with a solid THUMP. I felt it through the deck of the ship, and after waiting a second for it to finish stood up and moved to it. The charge had opened a hole the size of a manhole, but had dropped molten thermite down to the lower deck and made a hole down at least 3 decks, where it dropped into the hangar bay.

"Rope moving," Vox called. She ran forward and pulled a long coil of rope from the side of her pack. Mitch pulled his staff from a pouch on his vest and triggered it. It sprung open, and Vox wrapped the rope around the center of it. Mitch sat the staff down so it was across the hole, and Vox tossed the rope down the hole.

"Go!" Arthur shouted as he engaged a fresh wave of robed figures, all brandishing machine guns. He and i both turned to engage as Vox grabbed the rope and dropped at an alarming rate down the hole. I ran dry and conducted a reload as Mitchell followed her.

"Move!" I called to Arthur as i started popping headshots on the group of targets in the open. He got up wordlessly, ran towards the hole, and in one movement dropped to a knee, slid to the hole, and dissapeared down it. Now it was just me and these assholes. I flipped my rifle to automatic and sprayed their scattered formation. My rounds found home in limbs, rib rib cages, and heads. My rifle ran dry, and as i reached for my next mag i realized i had gone through all 3 mags already. Fuck.

I tossed the rifle aside, all the current targets laying in a pile of their own blood, and ripped the shotgun off my pack. i went over to our rappel station and touched the staff. My glove glowed blue for a second before Delta's voice came over my radio, "It's set."

I grabbed the rope and slit down. i flew past the 3 decks, looking at the fires that the thermite had started, and dropped into the open hangar. As i dropped, i noticed that the hangar was completely empty. No Frames, no targets, but most concerning, no Jester. Just a few cargo crates. I hit the ground and brought my shotgun up, scanning the room. The timer on Mitch's staff must've hit zero, because it dropped down from the hole. I caught it with my off hand and stashed it in my vest.

"Reaper, report," I said into the radio. Silence. "Saber, Jester 1-4, report." Still, silence. Fuck this was bad. Before i could do anything else, i saw movement behind one of the cargo crates. A figure darted out and knocked the shotgun out of my hand. It went flying across the deck, where it stopped out in the open. I grabbed my attacker by the shoulders and threw him. I backed up and put about 30 yeards between us.The robed figure hit the ground and slid slightly before hoping to his feet. I saw him glare at me. Then he charged again.

Out of sheer reflex i ripped a grenade out of my pouch and lobbed it like a baseball at him. He tried to dodge it, but was too late. The not-primed grenade hit him square in the forehead and made a loud THWACK noise. He dropped, out cold.

"Well shit," Arthur laughed from behind me.

"Where the fuck were you guys?" i asked, now seeing the three of them walking up to me.

"Had a detour," Mitch offered, jabbing his thumb up, "stopped on the 2nd deck to check something out."

"And?" I asked, walking over to my shotgun and picking it up.

"Found 'em," Omega chimed in over the radio.

"Where?" I asked again, grabbing the grenade from the floor. It had some blood on it. I may or may not have just killed a man by beaming him with a grenade.

"There," Vox pointed. I followed her gaze and saw a massive blast door.

"Right where it was supposed to be," i mumbled. I fished Mitch's staff out of my vest and tossed it to him as I queued my radio. "Jester 2, Jester 1 has made it to 3rd base. Waiting on you guys to hit us home."

"Roger that, Jester 1," Tex came back, "prepare for Orbit Fall."