Armored Core: Forces

      Pilot Lieutenant Markus Calraught careened down the metal grated causeway and frantically bounded feet first through the access hatch. As it closed, secondary explosions from missile impacts blew hot air and sparks through the narrowing space and shook the machine in its security harness. He scrambled into the cockpit and plugged his microbead into the machine’s radio.
      “This is Dreadnaught, requesting launch!” hey keyed his microbead as he ran systems check.
      “Dreadnaught- your clear for departure. Gateway 4 is your easiest route out,” a female voice replied. Markus was unsure whether the control voice was in the same complex, but he doubted the United Mars Federation would endanger employees by keeping them operating in a base as hot as this one.
      “Good luck soldier.”
      Screw luck - try “shoot straight,” or something, he thought.
      “Thanks control. Launch Gate 4, code delta four niner,” Markus paused with his hand over the throttle. The big, red throttle that some pilots loved, and others, not so much.
      “Launch!” He growled through gritted teeth, punching the red lever to full, throwing him back against his seat. Harnesses detaching instantaneously, Markus and his colossal war machine barreled through the launch gate at breakneck speed. The rumbling of metal grew and just as it seemed the entire contraption would break apart, sunlight burst into the cockpit’s view screen
      With expert grip, Markus countered the thrust and took off to aid the already pounded UMF forces. He was no farther away from the main UMF front than the enemy was, and he was already taking long-range small arms fire.
      Maybe because I’m the only AC out here? he wondered sarcastically.
      The Dreadnaught, his beautiful red and black death dealer, was an AC - an Armored Core. Generally standing 10 to 15 stories high, they generally held a close resemblance to a human being - as much as a thousand ton war machine would allow, of course. They were similar in that the arms held weapons, the head provided most sensory devices, and most importantly, the central torso and chest housed the essential innards of the behemoth warriors. Power generators, heat radiators, movement cogitators, and the pilot himself were all stored behind heavy armor plating - hence the name Armored Core.
      The huge metal boots cratered into the ground and Markus drew his weapons systems up. He slipped his hands into the large sensor gauntlets that tracked his movements for maximum mobility. Large-caliber shells loaded into chambers as the dual 90mm machine guns were unholstered and cocked by the Dreadnaught’s larger-than-life hands, mimicking his own.
      The enemy was closing, assault tanks first and heavy support behind them. Markus trotted heavily, nearer to the line and opened up with the 90mm’s. The recoil shook him, but he persisted, firing in short, precise bursts. Two assaulters fell victim to his rain of fire, and another was crippled and stopped dead in its tracks. He locked on again and was just tightening the left trigger when something very, very big plowed into his AC from the side.
      “Holy sh-” Markus started as he struggled with the controls to stand, but was cut short by another blow. But this wasn’t a bodily one. He checked his system display and swore as red lamps flared and damage controls went haywire on the Dreadnaught’s left leg.
      He rolled left, over the damage to cover it while small electrical fires were automatically extinguished inside. Bringing both guns round to bear, his left 90mm collided with a foreign weapon and he instinctively loosed the other automatic’s trigger. The gun violently peppered the dark maroon machine with rounds and -
      An AC. I just plowed into another AC.
      Markus blasted the metallic torso, blocking the slightly smaller right arm with his bigger, heavier left. The impacts jerked it sideways and the 90mm magazine clacked dry. Markus threw the angled and awkward-looking enemy AC sideways and clanked to his feet, his left leg a little faulty but holding. He dropped the empty gun and switched the loaded one to his right - he always had a better aim on the right - and swung around to blast at the ugly hunk of steel and alloy.
      …Where’d he go.
      The Dreadnaught bent low, and powerful hydraulics combined with the overwhelmingly loud blast from the flight thrusters jetted him into the air, turning away from the jump and anticipating the enemy’s move. The suddenly reappearing attacker just grazed his right leg as he turned in mid-flight, scraping paint and denting metal.
      “Yeah I got you now,” he said calmly and emptied the rest of the 90mm magazine into the dark adversary.
      Or he would have, were the bullets not dissolved harmlessly before touching the enemy AC’s left gauntlet. There was a semitransparent field of energy eminating out from the left forearm, covering a good portion of the enemy’s body. Markus’ eyes narrowed and he inhaled deeply, the stuffy cockpit air filling his lungs. He felt the adrenaline flowing through his veins, and for a second the opposition stood still, almost observingly.
      “Okay. Come on,” Markus urged, ready for the next move. The machine’s arm twitched and Markus reacted a heartbeat later, loading a fresh clip and running sideways. The enemy AC had finally shown its weapon; a sleek laser rifle with a long barrel. It fired first, and a red beam clipped the Dreadnaught’s left shoulder, searing off Markus’ insignia and opening a sparking hole across the top armor plating.
      He went low and charged, blasting his thrusters again, this time jetting him horizontally and smashed hard into the satanic-looking machine’s chest. He flipped up a plastic cover and threw the lighted green switch under it.
      His left gauntlet’s fingers formed a tight fist, and simultaneously a high pitched hum started somewhere to his left side. Energy crackled around the blackened rectangular protrusion above the Dreadnaught’s left hand, and then exploded outward, igniting the lightning-blue energy sword.
      Markus immediately brought the deadly blade of pure energy up and slashed to the right, swiftly removing the enemy AC’s entire left arm from below the shoulder. He emptied the 90mm machine gun into the faceplate of the opposing AC, and brought the devastating energy blade down from its arm-removing arc and lodged it in the enemy core.

      The dark machine slumped and internal explosions shook it slightly.