(A bit of random writing approved by
@Simpli )
First Drop
"All Witches prepare for deployment." Witch-Captain Tembi's voice echoed through the crowded staging area. Rifle-Witch Penelope Carter, called Polly by most, let out a breath. Whispering a few words she touched the wards on her uniform, a dark leather cuirass that hugged her form. The ancient symbols glowed for a moment before going dim. The darkened area was lit blue for a moment as the others also activated their wards.
A red light glowed as a klaxon blared Polly gripped her rifle a little harder. The bay door opened acrid smoky air rushed in, hot breeze brushed across her skin, the heat from the fires rising up to great them.
A loud clang rang out then the ticking of gears turning extended the launch gantries out into the air. It was an agonizing wait, letting the launch gantries push further and further out into the smoky air. This would be her first combat, her first time launching from a ship. She'd been trained for months waiting for this moment, now it was here. Her heart was racing, her hands were sweating in her gloves. She looked to her right, finding a witch sister standing next to her, eyes locked ahead, looking forward she saw the back of her Witch-Seer's head. That's right, she wasn't alone, and she couldn't fail her sisters.
With a final shutter the gantries were fully extended. Current ran through her drop vest making her feel lighter and hum with electricity.
"All witches launch…" the Witch-Captain's voice rang out. Polly looked to her right finding Priscilla, Witch Engineer, and Polly's best friend. They joined the witches together, hell they'd always been together, from the orphanage, to the factory, and now here. She gave a thumbs up to her dark hair friend, only seeing a slight nod before before she took off running. Her heavy black boots thudded on the gantry, each step rattling the extensions as the came closer and closer to the end of the run.
At the final moment she lept off the gantry, throwing herself into the sky, putting all her trust into the bulky vest that was wrapped around her chest. And her trust was rewarded, she still fell but, not fast enough to worry her.
It was almost hypnotic the slow lazy fall to the ground. As the planes roared overhead she caught sight of the trio of Patrol fighters soaring towards their next mission, on one of the planes she could make out a fist being thrown forward with an overexaggerated impact. It reminded her that she still hadn't run into the pilots yet, though she'd heard a familiar name said amongst the girls. Al Croy, the tall, tough as nails, pit fighter, last Polly had heard she was looking for another job…does that mean she joined the Patrol?
She threw the wonderings on a lost friend to the side as the street came closer. The sounds of small arms reached her the Patriarchy and the Council forces used much of the same equipment, the only thing telling them apart was their uniform. Her heart rate spiked again as the shots came closer. She'd been through live fire exercises she knew the sound of gunfire, but this was actual combat. Lead flying her direction, with intent to kill. It was dangerous but this is what was asked of her and this was the Oath she had given. To face the enemy without fear. That was easier said than done.
Pulling up her legs she let out a breath. Her boots hit the road jolting her body and rattling her teeth a bit as she came to a stop. Hitting the quick release she heard the distinctive sound of her vest being retracted up into the ship for the next witch to use. She heard more thuds behind her as she reached for her 'carbine', though it was more akin to a full rifle in another military.
Polly rushed to the edge of a building to take cover from the incoming fire from the remaining Patriarchy forces. Bullets whizzed by her head one just glancing off her wards leaving no mark behind. Lucky but she couldn't only rely on that. Bringing her rifle up to her shoulder she aimed down the sights lining them up with the closest purple clad enemy. Her hands didn't shake, her breathing was steady, the adrenaline hitting her system, it was just like target practice. Aim, Breathe, Squeeze. With a pull of a trigger her rifle thundered, louder than the rifles which had fried at her, sending hot lead down range tearing through the unarmored chest of the man sending a puff of red flying out behind him.
In the distance she could see the rest of the welcoming party fleeing from the gun witch landing zone.
In due course she linked up with her squad then received their orders…her first successful drop.