1005, 28 November, A.D. 2071
Drydocks, Naval Base San Diego
Its name was the NDV
Admiral Sergey Gorshkov.
An aircraft carrier launched by the Russian Federation in the height of the Unification Wars, its crew held a sense of irony and humor at all times. Here was an aircraft carrier, among the first of its remastered class, named for a Hero of the old Soviet Union who was a major proponent of
submarine warfare. Yet the ship, and the man it was named for, was well regarded and respected throughout its thirty-one year career. It was among the first carrier groups that fully integrated into the Naval Defense Force of the Earth Union, and had served with distinction and pride against Separatist terror attacks, and more recently, the oncoming Kaiju threat.
It should never have been in its current position. Its vulnerability, whether to the kaiju or to Westphalian cells, was constantly dismissed by a commanding officer of the drydocks more concerned with advancing his own career than the actual safety of his charges.
With a shudder and a titanic
snap, the flight deck was rent asunder as the Dragonfly smashed into it. With the swipe of its claws, the bridge was smashed in, now rendered useless as metal screamed and shattered under protest, glass and components scattering all around, glittering one last time in the light of the morning sun.
The final blow came when, rearing its claws one last time, the Dragonfly slammed its forearm deep into the superstructure and below. With one last flash of blinding light, the fusion generators onboard ignited.
By 1200, the
Sergey Gorshkov would rest in the bottom of the harbor, its destroyed superstructure and hull still jutting out at an angle.
But by then, it could rest easily knowing that justice had been meted out by the warriors of the current age.
For as the Dragonfly turned its attention towards the Timberwolf, the great metal knight strode forward unflinchingly through the still burning wreckage of the venerated carrier.
With murderous intent.
1010, 28 November, A.D. 2071
Richard's limbs felt numb, even through the insulating scales of the K-Suit. Whatever was within that stinger tail, it still clearly held enough acid or
whatever it was coated in to foul up the servos inside of the Timberwolf. Gritting his teeth, Richard focused through the MMI and projected as much
intent behind his actions as he possibly could.
Yet his movements remained sluggish. His sword slashes - never precise at the best of times - were slow, lethargic, and telegraphed far too soon.
A less experienced pilot would have tried to pull back. Regain control over the Timberwolf's limbs. Circle around, come back for another attempt.
Richard was having
none of it. Sheol's monster had destroyed a living relic of human history. More than an instrument of war and peacekeeping, it was where hundreds of sailors and officers called home, where memories and friendships were formed. A monument to the old and the new. And Sheol's monster had utterly ruined it.
Richard knew that his background as a history major back at the academy drew strange looks, much more his legitimate enjoyment of those assignments when others regarded them as wastes of time or just extra busywork, designed to keep them away from the night life. But history held so much more than that. It held human experiences, emotions and stories, all proof that no matter what you're facing, or what you're feeling, someone's already felt or done something similar.
To Richard, those stories were sacred. And he promised himself that he would not let this casual disregard for the human experience go unanswered.
Just focus, he warned himself. Gripping the manual controls tightly, he willed the Timberwolf to bring the Arc Blade to his side, angled slightly downwards as the Dragonfly swept around for another attempt to gouge out his eyes.
Just wait. He's going to come at you again, eighty-eight degrees from on high...
Richard willed the Timberwolf to step forward, mimicking the motion of still sluggishly trying to regain control over his systems. Yet as he heard the piercing shriek of the Dragonfly - so at odds with the full-bellied roar of the Dragon that preceded it - the acidic solution that had slowed him so had already run its course. He had full control over his limbs again.
Pity that the Dragonfly didn't realize it yet.
Right as the Dragonfly descended once more, claws stretched outwards, the Timberwolf abruptly pirouetted on its left foot, and like a javelin thrower,
hurled the Arc Blade at the kaiju.
It realized its mistake quickly, and moved to break away from its dive, but it was too late. Its momentum, intended for a killing strike, carried it too far forward into the flight path of the Arc Blade. The flying sword tore directly through the left wing as if it were so much tissue paper, and continued its ascent towards the sky unimpeded.
Shrieking, now in pain, the Dragonfly altered its course as it fell quickly to the Earth.
Right back at the Timberwolf.
It only knew PAIN.
Nowhere in its Master's memories could it recall anything like this not-Mercury the Pretenders could muster.
Yet even as it landed onto the not-Mercury's form, even as it ripped continuously at the not-Mercury to sever limb from limb, it still stood.
It slammed its arm into the not-Mercury's shoulder, but its arm continued to strike back.
It slammed its tail into the not-Mercury's stomach. It still stood strong.
It widened its maw and attempted to chew through the not-Mercury's face.
Its teeth shattered.
Why? Why did it stand in its way? Why did it not die like prey should?
WHY!?
"That's more of kaiju breath I'm acquainted with than I ever wanted," Richard growled. Two now badly scratched and chewed - but otherwise perfectly functional - arms took hold of both wings and began to pull. Once again holding the damned thing in place, he decided, "You want to play that way?" The Demolisher Array once again revealed themselves. "Energy Blast!
WIDE BURST!"
Shrieking at the now familiar and baleful red light, the kaiju reared back and avoided the worst of the giant shotgun blast that the Timberwolf's shoulders had become. Yet as nice as that would have been, and even at the satisfying sight of seeing more of the kaiju's flesh melt away from the heat of the Energy Blast, that wasn't his real aim.
"Lieutenant, we're coming in danger close," a voice said over the comms.
"I say again, danger close."
"Good copy," Richard said grimly. "Fire when ready."
The Dragonfly had just enough presence of mind to realize that
another red glow was coming from behind it before it ripped through its back. Its pained roar was lost in the furious backwash of the Pegasus' main battery fire, especially along with the incoming rounds of the First Wing. In their strange, blocky and vaguely humanoid forms the flying mechs circled around, firing everything they were able to manage with wrist-mounted autocannons. As weak as they were, the Dragonfly had been rendered helpless by the barrage of attacks it had just been subjected to.
It still struggled, weakly attempting to use its clawed feet to dig into the K-Scale one last time, but Richard knew its time was finally up.
For the Arc Blade, momentarily forgotten, came plunging back down to Earth.
And it came to rest, pinning the Dragonfly to the ruined flightdeck of the carrier like a disgusting science fair project.
1018, 28 November A.D. 2071
Pegasus Command Bridge
"Launch the Spark Caliber!" Haruko ordered. "We are finishing this
now!"
"Aye, Ma'am!" Diana relayed. "Confirming V-33 Falcon is now loaded with delivery package!"
1020, 28 November, A.D. 2071
Pegasus Launch Bay
"Not cool," Adam grumbled as he locked the last strap onto the bottom of the fighter. "Not cool what that thing did."
"It'll get its fair share," Henry said. "It's why we worked this long on the Beowulf, remember?"
"Time to stick it to Sheol and his Monster Mash washouts," Adam agreed. "Spark Caliber good to go! Rich,
shred it!"
The Spark Caliber is the name chosen by Captain Sasaki for what is effectively a supercharged battery the size of the Timberwolf's thumb. Shaped to slot neatly into the Arc Cannon or Arc Blade, it is a device that will supercharge the equipment its installed into for one devastating attack. It is so potent, it can only be authorized for use against a foe you are confident will die to the force brought to bear.
As it was, it was also highly volatile. It would remain inert for a few brief moments, but would immediately begin discharging power the moment it was unveiled to open air. Originally viewed as a defect for the designs to an older battery, the strange but brilliant minds of Adam Wilde and James Henry turned this disadvantage into their creation's greatest attack to date.
As the delivery package was released, the locks self-detonated and the package fell apart midair.
A shining, glittering jewel already crackling with dangerous power fell into the waiting hand of the Timberwolf.
"Spark Caliber received!"
With one motion, the Timberwolf took hold of the Arc Blade's hilt, and raised it violently into the air. Pinned as it was to the blade and the flight deck, the Dragonfly was sent flying into the air.
"Spark Caliber! Install!"
With one motion, the jewel-like battery was slotted into the crossguard of the Arc Blade's hilt. And just like that, the subtle crackling energies of the Arc Blade suddenly
screamed into being. Pointing the tip of the blade towards the now descending Dragonfly, its writhing form abruptly stopped midair. What looked to the naked eye like a lightning bolt out of the clear sky slammed into the Dragonfly, holding it in place.
With one motion, and with the veritable lightning storm barely contained in the Arc Blade's edge, Richard Callaghan willed the Beowulf to sprint up the angled remains of the
Sergey Gorshkov.
Arc Blade raised high above its head, the Timberwolf took a running leap towards its prey.
Finishing Strike!
LIGHTNING BLADE!
The Chief and her crew, exhausted but unable to turn away from the scene unfolding before them, would be able to say they were there for this moment.
Atop the remains of the West Coast fleets' pride and joy, two great titans battled for dominance.
One to destroy and subjugate humanity.
The other to defend it, and everything it stood for.
Blinding as it was, the Chief refused to turn her gaze away. For she saw a legend descend on a blade of thunder.
And watched it
cleave through the monster that was responsible for the ruinous destruction it tried to wrought.
As the Super Robot descended onto the concrete, it slowly stood to its full height before taking the massive sword that had slain the monster and slowly sheathed it onto its back. The moment its hilt met the sheathe, one final lightning bolt slammed into the two halves of the kaiju and
disintegrated it.
In the moment it took for the last blinding flash to occur, only the scattered remains of leathery wings and tipped claws betrayed any notion that something could come and challenge the Earth Union in its domain.
Chief Tasha Belle promised to herself that she would never speak ill of the crazy bastards who created this thing.
"Aw man, we missed it!?"
And just like that, the moment was ruined.
Even through setbacks, great triumphs can be forged.
A mighty monster has been laid low, smote by lightning in the cause of justice.
Behold! The Defender of the Earth Union!
BEOWULF
EUDF VICTORY
You may just get something like that.
