"Nobody respects us, Joe."
I turned my head to look at my friend and colleague, if that's what you would call Stevie. "When did you figure that out, Ace?"
Stevie looked at the ground and shook his head, his dyed red dreadlocks bouncing around like loose springs. Me and Stevie were sitting on the stabilizing legs of our Thumper artillery gun, which we so loving dubbed "Little Jane". A Thumper artillery piece is tiny by most standards; it is small enough that if you stand under the barrel and jump as high as you can, with your arm extended, you could manage to touch it. Jane was painted jet black. Sure, it clashed with the 5th's colors, but it's not like the Officers ever took the time to look at us or our machine anyways.
The planet sierra is, for the most part, a hot desert planet with a small population. However, it lies on a very important location. It is in the corner of the Free Worlds League, bordering steiner and the Circinus Federation. It is mostly deviod of action, but the occasional Circinian raid could cause some action.
"Why do they even bother having us here Joe?"
I sighed. "I dunno. Not like it's a hard job or anything... When we're not kissing up or doing odd jobs for the Lieutenient, we're just sitting around here talking, or eating, or something like that. And best of all, we're not full of ourselves like those Mech Jocks... not that we have anything to be proud of, anyways."
Stevie looked up and around. "I think I'm just gonna stay here my whole life. Got no money... got no girl... nothing's going for me. Hell, you and Jane are all I've got..."
"Yeah..."
There were basically two pleasures in life for Stevie and I; Booze, and sitting with Little Jane. I'm almost sure that if Jane was alive, she'd be my best friend... well, second best, to Stevie.
Stevie was depressed. Not that he shouldn't have been. In fact, I was surprised I wasn't depressed as well. One time Comstar did a report on suicide rates in the Armies, and it turns out that Artillery crews were third, only to Infantry and J-27 transport crews. That all might have something to do with the fact that there are so few artillery guys out there, but I kind of doubted it. I thought it was because we were treated so poorly by our Battlemech counterparts, and that we were ineffective and easy to kill on the field.
We were about 12 klicks north of firebase Charlie, out in the middle of nowhere... a perfect place for outcasts. There was a big butte about a kilo to the north, and the other scenery was nice, but we were usually too drunk to care. Somehow, we were sober on the afternoon that afternoon. The little radio crackled to life, and in came a message.
"This is Lieutenient Gobes! Guys, we've got a situation here... there's a Circinus raiding party on planet! We don't know how we missed it, but it's here, and Zulu company is doomed unless a miracle happens." The man's voice was tense and worried, as he talked frantically. Stevie and I just listened, Stoicly... we expected the end to come sooner or later. "You boys there? I am talking to the 'Artillery', right?" He put a note of disgust on the word artillery.
I picked up the wire, with a bit of bored anger. "What the hell do you want, sir?"
He came back. "That's no way to address a sup-"
"Shut up." I cut him off, without much expression. "What do you want?" Stevie looked at me and chuckled, obviously amused.
I knew the Lieutenient was in some kind of trouble, because he skipped the verbal abuse and got right to the point. "Look Shellheads," (shellheads was an insult made up with us Artillery guys in mind;) "there's 12 Circies on planet, and they're all spread out. They want to fight a geurilla war or something." He started to calm down.
I replied with the least respect possible. "...and this affects us... How much?"
He screamed. "Look mister, I can argue with you during peacetime, but right now there's a f***ing company on the planet, hunting our mechs down!" He was pissed. I had no reaction. He calmed down a little as he continued. "You know the 5th is only made up of light mechs, and if they have something huge in there... say, an Awesome or a Marauder, we're screwed. Now let me talk."
I glanced at Stevie, who shrugged, then I came back on the line. "Ok, talk."
He sighed impatiently then continued. "We do know one thing. One of their mechs... probably assault..." He sounded like he thought the situation was hopeless, "... it's heading towards Firebase Charlie, from the north."
And then it hit me... Action! Stevie lit up like a match that had just been struck.
He continued. "It's 3 klicks out from you, and incoming fast from the north. Charlie's our company's main supply depot, and you know that we've got no mechs within 20 kilos to save it. If that guy gets to our supply depot, we've got no ammo, and we can't fight without ammo. So it's up to you to defend the base."
I was astonished, in my own unexcited way. He expected us, an artillery piece that couldn't kill a Locust, to take out an Assault mech! However, I was more surprised at the fact that he actually counted on us.
Like an bat out of hell, it stomped over a hill in the distance. Stevie jumped up and grabbed a shell. I stood up and tried to identify it. I didn't know too much about mechs, but it's gigantic chassis and Skull-shaped head were unmistakeable. Atlas, mother of all mechs.
I quickly said, "Good-bye." into the radio, then tossed it away as I helped Stevie load the gun. I did some quick estimating. The mech would be in range in about one and a half minutes. That gave us time to fire maybe 8 shots if we worked like hell. That wouldn't be enough.
Stevie fired a shot off before I had time to cover my ears. Little Jane may have been small, but Damn was she loud. I yelled at him for not telling me, but then we got back to work. It takes a couple seconds for an artillery shell to land. When it landed, it went wide and landed about 30 or so meters to the left of him. Pretty close, but no cigar. He kept coming. And we kept loading.
We got off two more shots before I realized that it was hopeless. As soon as he passed that big butte, he would be in LRM range, and we'd be dead. Then, it hit me.
The butte! If we could place a shot correctly, we could send tons of rocks off the edge, crushing even the mighty Atlas! I pushed stevie, who was lining up another shot at the Atlas, out of the way, and turned her towards the Butte.
I pulled the trigger, and just as the Atlas was lining up for a shot at us, an earth shaking crack made me fall over. Then I saw rocks, tumbling over the Atlas and knocking him down. He slid down the hill part way, and ended up twisted and flailing, trying to get free of the rocks.
He wasn't dead, but that didn't worry me. Stevie seemed to know what to do next, as he loaded another shell. We aimed it Right smack dab at the Atlas's cockpit for a direct-fire shot.
Now don't get me wrong; we may have been artillery guys, but we were damn good at what we did; mabye the best. I could aim like nobody else, and Stevie... hell, Stevie could hit a lightbulb from 5 kilos, which was about how far our gun could shoot. The shot went strait into the Atlas's face, and blew the cockpit to smitherines. There was nothing left; just a lifeless body of an Atlas, buried by a ton of rocks and sporting a blown in face.
Stevie, for the first time in his life, cheered. I joined him, and got out a bottle of our best liquor as we ran around, on top of the world. The radio crackled again.
"You there!? Damnit Shellheads, PLEASE be alive, just this once!"
I ripped the reciever off the ground happily, and simply said, "We did it, sir!"