Intrepid 21

As the winds died down and the sands began to dissipate, Ricard could finally see the Munican colossus for what it was. The mechanical legs he had mistaken for large pillars in the storm, were covered in curved armor plates that perfectly matched the rocky beige of the Arenas Desert. The gigantic machine’s knees were covered by long plates that ran the length of the colossus’ thighs, and were set just forward of the shins, suggesting a digitigrade structure. Only a very small assembly of parts approximating a pair of feet were touching  the ground. Somehow, they held the whole colossus upright. This Munican design had more in common with the draques than a Cordaean colossus. Its similarities to the draques did not end there.

Above the waist, Ricard could see the five lights casting a deep crimson onto the rest of the body. The bright one at the center pulsed angrily, and Ricard could only imagine what it’s purpose was, or what sort of technology was humming away behind all of that armor.

The machine’s arms were thin, but about as well protected as the rest of the body. The colossus’ head rested above and behind its large, slender torso, supported by a long and flexible neck. It was still partially obscured by the fading storm, but Ricard could see clearly enough to know he had seen many draconic heads just like it in the past. Its eyes and crown sensor gave off the same fierce red light he had come to know and loathe.

On the colossus’ lower back were a pair of exceptionally large pod-like structures. On a draque, that would be where the wings were located. Ricard figured the pods, despite their aerodynamic shape, probably contained huge stores of mana. Powering a colossus wasn’t easy, and keeping mana stored internally in such a compact design was something he very much doubted the Municans could pull off, even with such an intricate design.

Ricard took in every detail of the colossus he could. He knew he was almost certainly going to be spending the rest of the conflict as a prison of war, or worse, but his training never let up. When he spotted a new type of enemy, his eyes were fixed on it. A Cordaean colossus was purely prudenoid in its construction. It couldn’t afford any more nuance in its design than that. The Munican colossus on the other hand was like a monstrously upscaled draque standing upright. In hindsight, this was exactly what a Munican colossus should look like.

The draque scout picked up her radio. Ricard watched and listened as her mechanical mount kept him pinned there on the ground. She didn’t speak to her allies in Laytier like she had with him. Instead she was speaking Munican. He could remember bits and pieces of the language, but reading her body language helped to fill in some of the gaps. She was talking about the colossus, calling it ‘Cordoba,’ and suggesting it should retreat. That likely had everything to do with the sandstorm. The scout was apparently the leader of a ‘Jinete Team.’ Whether or not he found an opening to escape, that bit of information could be worth remembering.

When the scout was finished, she put the radio away and clinched her fists. Whoever was on the receiving end of that report hadn’t taken her suggestion. That meant Ricard’s presence here was the only thing keeping his allies from bombing the colossus into the dirt. Maybe there was a way to use that to his advantage.

“You’d better run,” Ricard warned, straining to talk with the draque pinning him down by his chest. He had been bleeding from prior attempts to pull himself up, but now red was spreading out from beneath each claw. “Once those planes are done surveying the damage, they’ll come for the colossus.”

Ricard didn’t know what the planes were doing over there, now. The device the Municans used to prop up the storm was gone, as were the mages operating it. They could swing back around and start attacking the colossus right now if they wanted. Ricard desperately hoped they weren’t just holding back on his account, but his exchange with Lieutenant Rog suggested that was exactly what was going on.

“Shut it,” the scout hissed, “The Cordaeans won’t launch an attack with you here.”

Ricard winced. So that was her plan. Either way it was time for another bluff. “Are you serious, lady? My people know I’m as good as dead. They’re not gonna wait.”

“Those planes over there seem to be waiting,” the scout leader noted, effortlessly countering his point.

“Not the guys I’m talking about,” Ricard shot back. He didn’t know what his allies were up to, which made it that much harder to guard his nerves, but he had to at least pretend the area was about to be saturated in fire. It was the only chance he had of throwing this woman off and finding an opening to escape. “Why do you think we’re here? To bait your artillery into wasting all of their ammunition?”

“You’re here for Cordoba, I imagine,” the scout answered honestly, “Cordaeans usually don’t beat their faces against a wall for no reason.”

“Exactly! So now that we’ve got a visual on that oversized lizard, what do you think’s going to happen next?”

“… I think we’re both going to be disappointed,” the scout sighed.

Boom.

Ricard had just enough time to glance in the direction of the faint gunshot when something struck the draque above him and dazed him. When his senses returned, Ricard’s ears were ringing and his sight was hazy. He could see the scout scampering back to her feet, and a short distance behind her, the draque she rode in on. It was barely alive, and bleeding smoke and embers from an armor piercing round. Ricard was so familiar with that kind of battle damage that he was able to instantly piece everything together. “Chaser’s coming,” he breathed, hurrying to his feet.

Ricard looked up at the colossus, being careful not to forget the giant in the chaos. Somehow, he had to get away from it, far enough that the army could take it out. He didn’t know why exactly, but he found himself calling back to the scout as he ran. “Run! Get out of there!”

“Lieutenant Rog to Sergeant Silva, are you clear of the colossus?”

Ricard didn’t expect to hear the Lieutenant’s voice again, not even inside his head, but it sounded like they were ready to finish the mission. “Not yet,” Ricard sent back, constantly checking over his shoulder as he ran toward the gunshot. Overhead he could hear the two planes coming back. It was almost time.

“We’ve got two birds running interference while the bombers get into position. Get out to at least 1000 meters. Intrepid 21 is inbound to pick you up.”

“Intrepid 21?” There were only Intrepids 1 through 20 as far as Ricard knew.

There they were. Ricard could see Chaser coming straight toward him at top speed. He turned back to see what the colossus Cordoba was doing, but just as he did, a burst of cannon fire from the planes strafed it. Some shots bounced off the armor at shallow angles while others just barely managed to embed themselves. It was more than enough to draw the machine’s attention, and thankfully, it looked like the scout had heard him and was on the move as well. She was heading in another direction, likely straight west. Having left his compass, Ricard could only guess that he was heading roughly southward. Chaser was coming from that same direction, making him confident in his bearings again.

When Chaser was close, it stopped to let Ricard aboard. Nicholas and Casey were inside, while Alice rode on a makeshift stretcher on the hull. She was gently held in place by Chaser’s mechanical arm. Ricard didn’t like this arrangement one bit. Her leg was in a splint, but surely they could have carried her inside. There was enough room for three people. They had at least thought to give her some earmuffs and what looked like a torn off piece of tarp to cover up with. Still, if they got into a proper fight … “Don’t think about it,” Ricard shook it off. He hopped onto the front of Chaser’s hull and knelt down beside Alice.

“We were in a hurry,” she said. Ricard couldn’t hide his disdain for this from anyone, much less Alice. “I tried but I couldn’t get inside with my leg like this. Riding on the outside was my idea, promise.”

“So was our new name, by the way,” Casey chimed in from Chaser’s commander hatch. “Intrepid 21! What do you think?”

“We’ll probably get split up again after this,” Ricard noted as he got into a riding position, “but for this one mission, it’ll do. Let’s go.”

Feeling the shallow cuts on his chest with his fingers reminded Ricard just how close he was to spending the rest of the conflict in a far away cell. All things considered, he was getting off light, with only a few minor injuries.

Chaser turned southeast and started moving just as the sun began to set. The turret turned backward to face the Cordoba, forcing Ricard to grab something else to keep himself stable. “Hey, don’t fire that again,” he pleaded. Alice may have had ear protection, but he certainly didn’t. “Just leave it to the planes.”

“Oh man, they’re comin’!”

“Who’s coming?” Ricard asked, though he could already hear the roars of engines coming from the east, “the bombers?”

“Yeah! Looks like sixteen of’em!”

Ricard groaned and moved closer to Alice. No matter how far away they were when the attack started, they wouldn’t be completely safe.

“Lieutenant, we’ve got Rick and we’re all clear,” Casey yelled at the top of his lungs, “bombs away! Blow that thing off the map!”

Ricard made no effort to look as the bombers began their attack, instead doing his best to get between Alice and Chaser’s turret. “Almost through this,” he said, partly to Alice and partly to himself.”

“We’ll make it,” Alice smiled. She immediately took his hand when the first bomb hit.

The attack on Cordoba could be seen and felt from over a kilometer away. Several more bombs went off in rapid succession. Ricard and Alice put their heads together to try and endure the violent tremors. All they could hear other than the explosions was Casey’s jubilant ravings.

“I don’t know what’s worse, the bombs or him yelling like a maniac,” Ricard muttered to Alice.

“Definitely the yelling,” Alice snickered.

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