Posted Apr 22 2014 - 06:35 PM
For a few moments, the only responses from the Major were the sound of clicking keys as his fingers flew across the keyboard as if fueled by FTL crystals. Notifications flashed across his console with blazing speed, almost too fast to be understood. In fact, if he hadn’t already known what they indicated, they would have been too fast to comprehend. As he had been ordered, he had diverted all power from the weapons to the shields, powering them to the highest possible level. Maybe it would buy some time.
“Understood, Colonel.” He replied, standing and shrugging out of his coat. It would only slow him down, and blending in was no longer necessary. He ignored the needles of pain from his chest as he unholstered his weapon; Odds were that he’d be nursing a few more wounds before the day was out. Grim as that thought was, it was the most likely possibility. William had taken part in the ground combat in the first invasion of Earth after his pod had touched down, and while the standard Mantis soldier was a threat… The elite troops were another matter altogether. Typically outfitted with armor to deflect standard arms fire, enhanced weapons to enable them to cut through personnel armor, and more worryingly, a high degree of skill. Mantis society was very much survival of the fittest, and while that meant that any Mantis who survived was a threat, though that gained enough renown to be considered an elite fighter were terrifying indeed.
Truthfully, the odds weren’t nearly as optimistic as they sounded. On a personal level, William was carrying a single sidearm, and no armor against what amounted to a living, armored scythe. Even factoring in the rest of the crew, only some of them were already equipped for personal combat. The rest were facing the same difficulties as him. Beyond even that, the Kestrel was confronted with a Brood fleet. One that they would be unable to escape for a minimum of twelve minutes.
Beat the odds once, you’re a lucky man. Beat the odds twice, you’ve been granted another chance. Beat the odds thrice and you’ve been allowed a miracle. Will had faced the odds twice, and he didn’t believe in miracles. Worst came to worst, he’d take some of them down with him.
On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?
Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG