Sigma/Star

Chapter 57: Ice

There was a calm, quiet wind that passed through the small valley on the border between the Enian Federation and Artisan Confederate. It split when it met Grimsley's Goliath standing at the crest of the hill, surveying the base beneath its feet. There were enemy battlesuits wandering around it, shuffling from one building to another, carrying storage boxes or moving weapons and ammunitions. They seemed so slow, so relaxed. They had no idea what was coming towards them.

A bang pierced the air and a Goliath's head was blown clean off, the body left teetering for a moment before it fell to the ground. The rest of the Artisans panicked, scrambling for cover and taking wild shots into the air as they struggled to regroup. Grimsley lowered the smoking tank barrel strapped to his right wrist. His face inside the cockpit was dead and hard as diamond, unblinking after what had just happened.

"Ok, ok so we go in guns a blazin' like that I see," Ronald stated, half in shock at that sudden and vicious attack. "I guess that's a working strategy, right son?"

There was no answer. Not a verbal one. Instead, Grimsley's Goliath lurched upwards, jumping into the air and plummeting down towards the base. Grimsley landed in a run, sometimes having to slide a little on the slope of the hill because of his rapidly increasing momentum. The enemies had finally identified him as the source of the attack and had opened fire on him. As bullets came dangerously close or bounced off the armour of the war machine, Ronald became increasingly nervous behind Grimsley.

"You know this thing don't got the best o' the best shields on it and I'm-" Ronald had to pause as a particularly large explosion from a passing missile shook him in his seat. "I'm thinking we won't hold up very long if you don't-" Grimsley rolled to the side and Ronald's head went spinning with the motion, silencing him as the two slid down the hill.

The Goliath popped up again behind one of the small, makeshift buildings in the encampment. The simple concrete was being blasted away by the hail of shots coming from the Artisans, raining down chunks of rubble that clattered off Grimsley and Ronald. "We won't have to hold out very long Ronald," Grimsley said in an eerily calm voice. His heart had gone cold again, his body out of his control now. "Begin short range scans. I need you to be my eyes and take control of the cannon."

"Y-yes sir." Ronald decided it would be best to seal his mouth now and work doubly as hard on keeping them alive. "You have an enemy coming round the corner of the building, north side." Grimsley spun the Goliath around, bringing up the battle-axe in his left hand and swinging hard at the chest level of the average battlesuit. The weapon connected with the Artisan as it stepped out, driving deep into the metal on its front. As Grimsley tried to pull back, however, he found the axe had dug itself in deep and was actually dragging the enemy around now, an enemy who was working on levelling its gun at Grimsley.

"Ronald can you help remove this please?" The right wrist was brought up and unloaded another one of its deadly rounds straight into the Goliath's chest. Then another one. Then another. The Artisan spun off the axe and toppled to the ground. Ronald fired one more blast into the warmachine and it sprayed out little mechanical bits and parts, lying motionless otherwise. "I think that's enough Ronald. We don't have infinite shots here."

"Sorry I...I wanted to make sure. You know...in case..." Grimsley cut off Ronald with a sudden movement, thrusting the shaft of his axe backwards and straight into the gut of an approaching enemy. Grimsley then swept the axe around in a circle, slashing across the opponent's chest. There was a pregnant pause between the two fighters, the Artisan expecting to be finished off and Grimsley anticipating he would have done just that by now.

"Uh Ronald?"

"Yes Grimsley?"

"You were so trigger happy before, where did it go?"