Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Valiant, Detective Valiant - Part 3.

"Keep an eye on that Rattler, Gryph." Val's voice had become a sharp edge of command. "They often employ a sensor mask, might not show up on our sensors, probably why we didn't see it before." The Rattler turned scanning the debris that moments before had been an alley and then started it's stumbling stride away, this time, towards a main street.

"Vicks, reporting as ordered, sir." A blue dot now appeared on the overlay marking the arrival of the young and impulsive squad member.

"Mason, here." A dot of crimson now lit up the overlay beside Vicks. Although a little older, Val had learned long ago separating the two was near impossible.

"Ready to slam-dance your troubles, boss man. We're locked, cocked and ready to," they began in unison. Testosterone driven bull was all that Val's mind screamed, and cut them off instantly. "Shut it. We've a Rattler on the loose, possibly fully stocked and looking to strike. You two, I want your Hybrid's primed and ready. Gryph, keep your eyes on that Rattler, don't let him wander off, and make sure more don't wander in. I'll cut around to try and intercept and draw his fire. Vicks, Mason; you two are to take up flanking positions and when I have his attention, level him. I want that Rattler buried and inoperable, no civilians are gonna die from this. Not on my watch." As he spoke his squad began to notice a cold fury rising in his voice. Their squad leader had begun casually reloading his side arm, and checked an under arm retractable storage slot. One they rarely saw him ever even open. Within they spotted a series of Riot grenades, explosive charges capable of delivering enough concussive shock and dispersed electrical/ionic discharge to take the fight, and subsequent consciousness, out of small mobs. Valiant hated using indirect fire whenever possible. The threat of the Rattler in an urban setting filled with tourists and civilians like Taral VII had to be eating away at him.

"You have your orders." Valiant confirmed, with the resolve of a titanic mountain.

"Yeah, Val." Gryph responded, taking up position to track the slow gait of her target, keeping her shotgun trained. Both Vicks and Mason pulled up the hefty weapons mounted to their backs so they rested over their shoulders and primed them. The Hybrid Type I was devastating rapid fire weapon well known for it's ability to deliver pulsed bursts of accelerated particles. Powered by external capacitor cells, though, meant limited fire power.

"Hammer and anvil, Vicks?" Mason asked as he readied his Enforcer for the fight. "I'll hit 'em high, you hit 'em low, Mason." Vicks muttered, activating his targeting coordinator.

"Just make sure you hit that thing." Valiant turned, grim and determined towards a nearby side street. "I-O, give me a intercept course on that Rattler's projected path. Use the data feeds from our armors', I am already sure it has a mask active."

I-O's voice was shakier than usual, with a quiver all he managed was a mousy: "Yes sir."

Reserved, Gryph watched as Val loped off while Vicks and Mason eagerly took aim.

"Not one of your better plans, Vincent." She told his lengthening shadow.