The ground and hills shook in the presence of the ongoing battle. It was a battle of metal, fire, explosives, and massive machines. The tree line split, swayed, cracked, and fell as one such machine charged through, leaving a decimated, splintered forest in its wake. Massive stones, older than civilization itself stood no chance under its massive, squared heel. Its titanic form was a wall of marching metallic vengeance, its silhouette obscured from the shoulders up by a block of metal, housing its main gun.
Despite the BattleMech's terrifying splendor, it was far from optimal working order. Having just barely escaped a greater attacker, the pilot was forced to examine the damage through his display. Much of its rear armor was stripped away by flanking enemy fire, with its front armor having taken its own share of beating. It was this same enemy fire which had taken the 'Mech's right arm. Outside the missing arm, the Hunchback had yet to take any critical damage. “This is MechWarrior Richards reporting.” He said into the comms. His voice was hoarse and shaking. “Requesting immediate assistance.” He pulled his 'Mech to a stop, sweat beading above his brow, and falling down the side of his nose. He just now noticed the tremors in his hands.
'How are they holding that hill?' he thought to himself. 'We outnumber them at least twofold. This is my first mission as a MechWarrior. I can't afford to disappoint.'
After a seemingly eternal second, his comm cracked a response. “This is Commander Nixon." the voice was aged. Frustration and fear gripped his tone. "Aren't you that younger MechWarrior? The one in the Hunchback?" Gunfire, laser bolts and explosions sounded over the comms behind the commander's voice. "Yes, that's me, sir. I was chased away from my lance by a heavy 'Mech." A short pause left static where Richards needed a voice. "We are preoccupied and cannot assist." said the commander. "Instead, regroup at the following coordinates.” he looked down at his console. Next to the damage display, he saw his neon-lit digital map. A blue diamond shape pinged one specific spot to represent the objective location. Salvation. He looked up and saw the same blue diamond on his HUD. Only then did the grim reality of his situation set in, the sense of relief was lost.
Assuming the marker showed his lance’s position, they were on the other side of a hill from him. The opposing force had dug in atop this hill after getting pushed out of the nearby city, and had since created a wall of BattleMechs. Somehow, Richards had slipped through the cracks and was in deep enemy territory. He needed to get around the hill and back to his original position.
He resumed his sprint, and adjusted course to circle around the hill and back to a friendly position. He could not hide his movements, as any motion from his 'Mech would tear down trees and crush stone. Anyone to look in his general direction would instantly see him.
Not long after he adjusted course, his comm cracked again. “Richards, what’s your ETA?” said the Commander. Richards looked at his map, saw his position in relation to the objective marker. “Not long, sir.” Not a moment later, Richards came into a clearing, halted his sprint, and was face to face with an enemy BattleMech. His sensors pinged the ‘Mech as such through his IFF tag, and outlined the target in red. He glanced at the display, which told him his combatant was called a Centurian.
The 'Mech itself was in near-mint condition, with only minor armor damage. The Centurion immediately noticed Richards' presence, so there was no running. He'd either find some way to beat this thing, or would die trying.
The firepower between the two was almost identical, down to the individual weapons, with only slight variation between the two. However, Kelly's Hunchback had been heavily damaged before this encounter. It would take precision above all else if Kelly were to survive this fight. He aligned his shot carefully, aiming to place is shot in the 'Mech's torso. He fired his main autocannon, and a low rumble filled the forest. A shockwave reverberated through the cockpit, interrupting Richards' breathing, forcing a dry cough to leave his lungs. A sensation he'd felt many times this mission, and had learned to ignore in favor of focusing on his engagement.
The Centurion turned its facing, so the shield took the blow instead of its chest and weapons. A bright orange flash filled Richards' view as the shell went off, and shrapnel sprayed the forest floor. The blanket of green grass was torn open and turned over. Sparks flew off the Hunchback's armor as the shrapnel was deflected, leaving only scratches. He resumed his approach, and the Centurion backpedaled away from Kelly, hoping to maintain its range for a short while, long enough to send a volley of missiles along with firing its main gun. The Hunchback took the entire volley to its front side, with the armor over the autocannon housing now worryingly thin. Then the autocannon shell hit. It tore into the gun housing, and utterly demolished the weapon. Now there was no way Richards could win.
Utter panic grasped Richards' mind. He frantically fired his only two weapons, green and red beams sprung forth from what was left of his 'Mech. The shots were rushed, and did not make contact. Again, the Centurion fired its main autocannon. For the briefest moment, Richards saw the massive shell flying straight at him. In that moment, he realized what was about to happen, but his mind had not the time to articulate it.
The cockpit completely caved in as the shell made impact, and was ripped apart as the shell's explosive charge went off. The Hunchback came to a screeching halt, as the force of the projectile and the blast tipped it onto its back against a hill. The Centurion moved on, proceeded with its patrol.
That hillside would be both Richards' and the Hunchback's resting place for a long time.
