Ground Combat

A dark sky,

Cold barren landscape, hard dark rocks clash against a background of pulverised dust,

A glint of reflected light,

A body, clad in a lightweight armoured suit lies in a shallow trench, covered in a light coating of the dark dust,  

A hand twitches, fingers unfurl and then reclench, the facemask begins to demist and the features of a young Khanid girl are revealed.

Her head is still spinning, she attempts to recollect her thoughts as her suit runs diagnostics on life support and all the other myiriad of functions it provides. 

She blinks, the suit returns all is well, along with a prompt to get off her ass and start running.

"Wait, what?" the fog in her mind clears, that last shell was close, far too close, she rolls onto all fours and crawls deeper into the trench, just in time too, a second salvo of shells lands scattering more dust across the landscape.

"Is there anyone out there?" her voice breaks out across the comm net, silence, noone left? or could their transmission equipment be damaged or jammed?.

"Ahh well, looks like its down to me again", crouching she creeps up to the lip of the trench, springing up over the lip, well over the lip, an alarm sounds in the suit she curses, "damn it, low grav" eventually she drops back down well beyond the trench and row of low craters beyond that. Settling into a long striding bounce the defenders seem to awaken, short puffs of dust spring up around her ankles on landing, chips of rock pininging off her smooth shin armour. Away from the ground her matt black suit hides her form against the blackness of space, the only evidence of her passing the eclipsing of stars behind her body. Closer to the horizon the setting of the sun blinding her opponents as she scrabbles low over the crests of the shallow craters pockmarking the terrain.

Arriving at the opposing trench she rises into the air on a final bound, tossing a short fused EMP grenade onto her approximation of where her targets crouched. A short flash, her suit regestering the LADAR echoes and pin pointing the position of the 5 reflecting enemy suits. 2 of them recieving direct hits from the EMP were in shutdown and going through a full system reset, they were as good as out of the battle already. Unholstering her laser pistol, the first shots raining down before she herself landed on the reverse edge of the trench, one figure falls down, venting gass from its neck, two others dive for cover from the as of yet unseen assailant.

Touchdown. small clouds of dust escape from beneath her feet. Putting a quick shot into both of the prostrate suits stunned by the EMP, "Sorry guys, but you would have done the same for me."

One of the figures has misgudged his dive for cover, he lies at her feet, looking up he recieves a blast of invisible laser energy through his visor. "too easy mate, far too easy" a quick snort of derision before she too ducks and dives for the cover of a fixed autogun position, chips of rock spraying into the sky. The second figure has recovered his composure, sporadic bursts from his rifle keep her head down.

"16, 20, 24, 28.... reloading, now," leaping into the air, a quick burst of her suits jet "not too much, I'm not allowed to leave this hell hole just yet" summersaulting at apogee, another burst and she is headed for the ground, her victim a perfect shot, one in the leg, one in the chest, "not text book, but it will do", rolling on landing, she stands to inspect her handywork, "Five nil guys, that was to ...."

The slug rips through the thin rear armour of her lower back, tearing through internal organs before erupting through her right breast. "eughh " blood splatters across the interior of her visor as she drops to her knees, vital atmosphere (along with fairly inportaint body parts) are venting through the tear in her suit. falling onto her face, she dies.

The screen goes dark.

Rebel Victory. 6 kills to 5

The VR machine releases its grasp on her conciousness, clearing the fog from her mind for what seems like the second time in 5 minutes she sits up, the fluid streaming off her body, spitting out her breathing tube and removing the link from her spinal inplants.

Across the room from her, a young Amarrian sits up and grins at her, she cuts off his comment before he has chance to begin "I dont want to hear it Nick," "You did pretty well there Incarn8, pity you dont check your back so often" "Yeah, yeah if you wernt trying to creep up behind me all the time in the lockeroom you wouldnt be so damn good at it"
An older True Amarrian walks into the VR room, "enough time for reflectons on your performance later, now you are required in your Theology Sessions, Miss Incarn8 you will see the Abbot regarding yesterdays outburst before you retire for supper" "Yes Master" replies the girl, slicking back her long black hair as she steps out of the capsule heading for the showers.