Short story

so ya, this isn't based off an RP just had a bit for free time.

13.00

(In the year 2267 after the ninth space colony, a second age of imperialism has begun. Europa stands at the forefront of this second age, With the France and Britton taking most of Europe right at the start, only a few countries are left in Europe mainly the Slavic, Balkan, Scandinavians group hold their freedom. To the south of those groups Greece and Macedonia fight against Turkey for Istanbul. How much longer can the world truly go on like this?)

“We have in coming HTs from the north!” the com-net shouts.
“Some one’s had a bit much coffee” I say to my self, I reach for the send button, “this is the 209th Mercenary group on rout to intercept. Please relay data to our com-unit”
“Um Roger the 209th, patching you in to com-net systems.” He sounds like a new blood. The field has been full of them from the start, some thing with the over population and what not, meaning more meat for the grinder.
“This is Com-Unit 53 call sign “Rifle Man” I have the data, plotting rout and engaging.” I look over the data flow on the left view screen. With my new orders I move of with the rest of my group.
“Hey Rifleman you got this right. Say here me and “Grave Stone” divide and move to a narrow path, about three kilometers from the projected battle ground.” I look at the camera view screen “Long Arm’s” HT was moving in closer to the com-net unit.
“That data is correct; now fallow your orders Long Arm.” The command unit said pulling ahead, leaving me as the rear guard.
“Roger that sir!” using my view screen I watch easily gild off to the side, their HT’s moving like a raven looking for a fresh kill

(In the year 2137 at the start of the forth world war the first “Humanoid Tanks” (or HTs) saw their first fires of battle. In the beginning they where slow and bulgy monstrosity, only able to travel fast with the aid of large flat bed trailers mounted on the backs of regular tanks. In the hundred years to come they have grown smaller, cheaper, and faster. They had become one of the most valuable assets a commander could have on the field, it would take only a handful of them with a skilled commander to win even the most one sided battles. With this new powerful weapon, and the technology with in most countries grasp to make them, they started to become mass produced. Till the HTs them selves where the bred and butter on the battle fields, they became so cheap that even mercenaries could afford to buy them and use them on the field.)

“Target spotted on radar, 3500 meters ahead.” Rifleman moved back keeping out of the range of enemy guns, being a com-net unit held some bad sides, like not having any types of guns. But what they lacked in that they made up for in armor and necessity to have up to the second updates in the heat of battle.
“This is “Fire Dog” I have visual, I’m engaging enemy targets.”
I look in my camera view screen to see Fire Dog launch a wave of missile to the target.
“Ok Demon, time to prove your worth, don’t let us down kid.” The Captain started to fire his Heavy Machine Gun at the target, it was out dated but still better then most in use.
“This is “Holy-Nightmare”, come on kid stop holding back and engage them.”
“”Demon Sight” engaging.” I give in and focus on the new targets, I see the first target in front of me. Standard French pattern HTs. The model type is a HT-PU-XIV-Napoleon; its equipment is what fallows a Rifle semiautomatic 15.5 caliber, SRM shoulder mounted rockets, and a jetpack, nothing out of the blue for this model. I race towards it on the wheel drive of my HT.(My HT is a special HT, Costume built by me, heavy reinforced armor on the left arm and less armor on my right, I needed to take weight off my right arm so I could use the mass-sword needed to for my type of melee combat. There is just one problem with my HT, I have next to no range. I have a shoulder mounted Auto-Cannon, but that’s mainly for tanks and won’t do much against an HT’s armor.) The French HT sees me and turns to fire, it too late for him I charge up the mass sword and swing. I cut off part of his arm and slice the gun in two. I regain my form and move the blade in a back handed swing. This time I hit the main torso, the chasse explodes killing the pilot instantly. Two other HTs have noticed me and are turning to fire, I spin my foot wheels and slam in to the first one with my left arm knocking him over. I move the mass-sword and ram it in the Frenchies chest. This one doesn’t explode just seems to fissile out. The last one starts to fire on me. The shells impact my left arm, doing little but surface damage. I start to move towards him, he just reverse his HT and moves away, “this keeps up I’ll be shot to fragen hell.” I think to my self. In a vain attempt to stop him I aim my auto-Cannon for his feet and fire. It knocks him off balance giving me the time needed to get up and finish it. I open my HT’s left hand and grab the French HT’s head. I amp up the hydraulics and start to crush the electronic life out of his head, after two moments I hear a satisfying bang. The body falls loosely from the head. With out the head the HT can’t see, hear or even control the other parts of the mechanical body, it’s as good a dead.
“Captain I’m picking up reinforcement.”
“Aye Fire Dog, hold till confirmation with Rifleman.” The Captain replied. “Rifleman Can you confirm?”
“Yes captain I can. Unit’s Long Arm and Grave Stone start a ranged attack with rockets and missiles, they won’t be expecting it.” Rifleman reported.
“Grave Stone here Roger that.” I moved my view screen over to the hill top where LA and GS where ordered to hold. Silver arrow emerged from the open hill top, fallow by the dark cloud of death behind them. I didn’t see the finally results, but then I didn’t need to, the sounds give me all the info I needed.
“Rifleman we clear?” Captain com-netted in,
“Yes Captain we’re clear.”
“Good I want a battle report from all members of this squad by 08.00 tomorrow morning. Other then that good job gentle men.” I remove my hands from my control sticks; my palms are sweet after the battle. My belly roars from its emptiness. We’ve been with out food supplies for two days before this battle .I hate my life, But then any other would just be to damn dull to keep on living,

St.Vice 09/21/08[left]