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[indent][color=silver][sub][b]IC 286.08.16[/b] // Petrichor-8 System, Frontier Planet Alora // Left Flank of the Battle Line
1603 hours // [url=https://youtu.be/Hepu9QL4gKo]♫ Hell Broke Luce ♫[/url][/sub][/color]
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[color=silver]The world was all smoke and noise and light. Teddy's head swam, the klaxons mounted inside his cockpit screeching a discordant tune. Danger, they screamed. As if he didn't know that already. With no small effort, he dragged his head high, blinking the spots from his eyes. There was a blade twice as long as he was tall jutting through his cockpit. Following its entry point to its exit, it went straight over his chair- right where his thick, stupid head would've been if he hadn't dove to the floor. Every bone in his body ached from the impact, but at least he could still breathe.

Throwing himself into the fray had been a stupid, bone-headed, moronic move. 

To his right, the comm system blared with eighty-five's blustering voice. She was challenging that thing, [i]alone.[/i] The one thing she wasn't supposed to do.

[color=white]"Damn it,"[/color] he wheezed, pressing his shaking palms to the steel underneath him. He pushed himself up onto his knees, propping his back up against the console as he took a moment's rest. 

Then the proximity sensor wailed. Prawns descending on his location. Seconds away.

[color=white]"Damn it, damn it, damn it!"[/color] Teddy fumbled his oversized fingers for one of the pouches on his webbing. Upper left row on his breast, furthest to the right. Inside was a needle. Pull off the plastic covering with one hand, drag back his sleeve with the other. Inject. A rush of adrenaline erupted through his bloodstream. His senses widened, sharpening every noise all at once until he felt like his brain might explode.

Teddy threw his weight into the cockpit's throne, strapping on the restrains as he opened his comms. [color=white]"Platoon, tighten this formation right the hell now. I'm not losing this flank. Pull back and form a defensive line."[/color]

As he spoke, Teddy took hold of his control sticks and took in the damage. Left arm was inoperable with severe damage to the torso connection joint. Primary sensor array in the head was simply [i]gone.[/i] Secondary array in the chest had taken over immediately. The tech was older, clunkier and generally less reliable. His monitor was filled with grainy, gray footage of the exterior that few others could've parsed at a glance.

[color=white]"Hit the dirt, Zhejiang! [b]Now![/b]"[/color]

Outside, the Grizzly finally stirred. It did not rise to meet the foe that descended on it from every direction like a pack of ravenous dogs. Instead, it rolled on its back and lifted his right arm to the enemy. The Augsburg Autoshotgun underslung its wrist barked its protests, loud and clear. The first wave of legionaries ate a faceful of krakenshot flechettes. Four inch long knives exploded from their plastic shells to cut the pawns to pieces. The bear's claws were fierce things, even now.

Teddy ignored a warning light and cranked the overclock on his targeting computer. Needed to be faster. Ignore the shaking in his hands. Just nerves.

Rolling, the Grizzly flung its weight into the other side of the horde. Its left arm was useless as anything but a battering ram, so that's what Teddy used it for. Legionaries clung to his armored hull, ripping and tearing at the plating to get at the meat inside. Teddy bashed his left shoulder into the swarm, ignoring the loosening arm joint as he held them back long enough to clear his right and sweep the shotgun around to deliver death with express postal.

The pawns eating at his hull died just as their comrades had.

[color=white]"What's a couple hundred more?!"[/color] Teddy thundered. [color=white]"Come on! A few more, let's go!"[/color]

Rising to a knee, the Grizzly grabbed its Prometheus cannon from the mud and rested its barrel on its raised knee. Wielding the stolen fire of Olympus, the cannon roared its defiance. The Grizzly had to rotate its entire body to change its firing angle, chewing apart the already well-tread ground beneath its feet. All around him, the enemy fell in great droves. For all his smiling and assurances, death was Theodore Howser's lifelong profession.  
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