41 Wrong Hood
"Light 'em up." I ordered the AI pilot as a dozen WA-Stallions reigned hell down on the perimeter defenses of the fortified gold mine the Wraiths used as their headquarters.
They dumped a load of missiles and machine gun fire without much regard for waste as the majority of this battle would occur underground in the tunnels of the mine. The exiled Nomads had little response for the swift attack as we entered the airspace, lacking the long range sensors and defenses of a megacorp fortress. The helicopters cleared the landing zone quickly and we dropped out under no duress and secured the heavy vault doors the Wraiths installed on the main entrance of the mine.
The non networked door controls meant no quick hacking it open; so instead, I brought out my true master key: saturnite chain saws. A pair of modified Mr. Handies floated in and started cutting a big square out of the vault door and placed a shaped charge in the middle to knock it down. The whole process from first contact to door breach took very little time, under two minutes, meaning the Wraith response at the door stood no chance of stalling Kenworth as his huge robo body crossed the breach, rifle rounds bouncing off him.
Hot ash and smoke filled the air when Kenworth's Gatling laser cannon finally stopped spinning, and behind him came a pair of Protectrons with a sonar mapping device. We held off an attempt to push us out while it did its business and soon enough I had a 3D map of the mine with changes from the historical record on file highlighted.
"We have two new exit tunnels added since the Wraiths moved in. Choppers 11 and 12 move out now to get those exits covered." I ordered as Brotherhood Techies set up portable turrets and unleashed drones to start flushing out the Wraiths.
I sent the updated maps to everyone on the mobile network, bringing up arrows indicating routes for each of the fireteams to take as we moved through the network of tunnels taking us deep under the mountain. The map started filling with red dots as the drones scanned and engaged the Wraiths, and the HUD's in the standard Stealth Suit Helmets and WA Optics cyberware highlighted all enemy combatants in red, even while they were behind cover.
With multiple sources of data feeding the display, any chance of the Wraiths pulling off effective ambushes dropped to zero, and with the quality of my Optics even well hidden traps were just speed bumps for our Techies to disassemble. Pilar's freakishly long mechanical arms and their extra jointed fingers made quick work of even the best laid mines, trap guns, pitfalls, and surprise buzz saws.
"EZ money!" he shouted as he ripped some particularly valuable tech out of a particularly complex trap system.
I had to zip in and move him out while cradling his neck when a final failsafe tripped with the removal of the 'shiny' loot and a set of pile driven spikes that would have run him through taint to top shot up out of the floor.
"Awareness, gonk." I patted the shaking man on the helmet and cut through the obstacle to our destination.
We eventually moved into what the map showed to be the main base in this underground stronghold, in an expanded chamber heavily reinforced. Wrecked Welles Arms drones littered the space tunnels ahead, scrapped by heavy machine gun turrets manned by dedicated gunners.
Where the machines failed, my glorious bod did not. I was behind the fortification before the gunners even realized I'd entered their killzone and my pistols retorted as I blew both gunners away while T posing like an action star in a movie.
Felt good, man.
"So you've come this far." growled a voice over the mine's PA system, "Good for you, but this is the end of the line."
"Is this really happening?" I asked quietly with the hype building in me.
A huge rolling gate ascended from the far side of the chamber and the roar of many powerful engines shook the ground. A mass of steel and weaponry hovered just a few feet in the air. I rolled out of the way of an oncoming punknaught, the unholy fusion of multiple AV's stacked with enough armor and weapons to break through even the toughest of police lockdowns.
"It's happening! Boss fight!" I shouted as I started taking pot shots at the punknaught that charged me.
In response, the punknaught - which likely used a crew of twenty people - unleashed real life bullet hell. Everyone with a lick of sense started running the moment that thing started up, but the red glow of Kenworth's Gatling laser cannon cutting into the multiple layers of armor on the jury rigged super battle tank showed that this fight was co-op enabled, and the retort of Rebecca's canon and the flash of green as Ciri pulled them out of the way of oncoming missiles revealed this to be a four player encounter.
Sandevistans burning bright, Kenworth and I maneuvered through the bullet hell with varying levels of success. Kenny took hits but kept coming like the terminator-life repping murderbot he is. Ciri and Rebecca avoided most of the action by porting around the room, allowing Rebecca to take shots at the beast of a machine while we kited it into ramming the walls of the cave like a scripted enemy in a video game.
It was stupid, it was glorious. As pieces of the punknaught fell off with each impact its movement speed increased, but with the reduced armor the crew operating its many guns and rocket launchers became exposed for execution, thus reducing the bullet hell.
The fight ended with Dog Killer screaming 'NOOOOOOOO!' as his punknaught finally collapsed into smoking wreckage. The injured man pulled himself out of the unit and scans proved true the rumors of him wearing clothes made of human skin. He didn't get away, not with a battered Kenworth stepping on his back, his foot sinking through his ribs and spine to mash it all to paste.
"That is what a real war machine feels like." he vocalized with audible satisfaction.
"Ummmm, is this place supposed to freeze over?" Rebecca squeaked as she backed away from some building frost on the walls of the mine.
From a black portal with an ice blue spinning event horizon emerged a trio of tall elves in full coverage armor stylized like the bones and of the dead piled on top of each other.
I leveled Nuestra Senora at them and smiled under my helmet, "Ya'll motherfuckers came to the wrong hood."
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End of the year business is slowing down my writing time these days. All my customers want to pay me right now to get rid of their revenue before the tax year ends and they get caught with a pile full of money that Uncle Sam is going to come after. I'm doing the same thing. Let that serve as a big fuck you to everyone who doubts trickle down economics. Too bad it only works in the case of small businesses, as the megacorps can get away with tax fraud indefinitely. Why would they care about paying liabilities at the end of the year to reduce the non-existent burden of their taxes?
Or is it tax fraud if the bullshit is backed into the tax codes? It feels like fraud at the citizen level for sure.
One day I'll be big enough to take advantage of all those tax avoidance strategies of the mega wealthy. Belive it, motherfuckers.
You can help me get their by donating at
ko - fi . com / jmanm
