Sgt. Golem: Royal Mech Hussar - Stubs Soon!

Russian shells ripped into the car all around me. The engine exploded in a wall of flame. I leaped out of the back of the car, landing hard on the pavement. The heavy cannon was still in my hands. I lifted it and fired another shot at the retreating mechs, then another before the weapon ran dry. I lowered it and turned back to the car.

Horror gripped me. Alexander was slumped over the wheel, flames licking around him. I lunged for the car, grabbing the door and ripping it completely from its hinges in my rush to get to him. I barely felt the heat of the flames as I snatched him out of the seat and carried him away from the car.

I crouched and gently lowered him to the tarmac. My heart plummeted. His chest was a wreck of blood and gore. He coughed. His eyelids fluttered, and he fought to focus on me.

"Did we get them?"

"Yeah, Warrant. We got ’em."

"Good," he gasped. Then Alexander died in my arms.

The world stopped. Somewhere in the distance, the car burned merrily, but for me, there was nothing.

I took a deep shuddering breath, fighting the tightness in my chest. I became aware of two shiny shoes in front of me and looked up at the General.

He looked up at me solemnly, hat in his hand. “He did his duty. A true soldier's death.”

Anger welled up in me. I wanted to leap up and punch the man in the face. But it wasn't him I was really mad at. It was those damn Russians. They had come here while we were having a party. They attacked people that weren't even at war with them.

My flash of rage became a roaring inferno. They had come in here, slaughtered indiscriminately, and now they were just going to leave? I'd be damned if I let them. With the last ounce of calm I had in me, I lowered Alexander's body to the pavement and stood.

My cannon lay on the pavement, empty. Dull booms sounded from the car as the ammo I had brought detonated. I had nothing except a pistol under my jacket. I wasn't thinking, I wasn't planning. I was just mad.

Without another word to the general, I took off running. I charged down the alley after the Russian mechs, flying over fallen bricks. Reaching the end, I emerged into hell. Blood, steel, flames, and shattered mechs were in all directions. Some Russian mechs were down, and even more Hungarian ones.

I saw the retreating backs of Russian mechs headed east down the street. The unthinking rage still burned in me. I dodged around the wreckage, jumped over bodies, and pelted down the street after them. My legs were longer than they had been when I was human. They were muscled like steel pistons. The mech strides were much longer, but their pace was a steady stride and not pell-mell hauling ass.

Air burned in my lungs, and my feet pounded the pavement. In the army I could set a good pace during PT. But that had been years ago. With this body, it didn't matter. I was already in top condition.

Some small part in the back of my brain, beyond the rage, wondered if I should be exercising. Did I need to keep these muscles in top form with regular use, or was something else keeping this body going?

My rage faded slightly as I ran. Was this the stupidest thing I had ever done? Aside from that time I had volunteered for ordnance disposal. Alexander's face and ruined chest flashed before my eyes. I poured on the speed.

The pain in my limbs washed away in a burning anger. They would pay.

The Russians were strung out, the first of them almost out of sight in the shadows, far ahead. They turned and disappeared around a corner, one by one, until there were only two left in view. The last in the line, the mech was moving slower and had a limp. The one before it reached the corner and vanished. The injured mech followed. Then it was at the corner. And then I was there.

My hand swept under my jacket and came up with my Steyr Hammer, flipping the safety off. I reached the corner only a dozen yards behind the Russian mech and skidded to a halt, raising my pistol. Boom, boom, boom.

I dumped the entire clip. The Russian soldier cried out and fell from the shoulder of her mech. The machine stiffened up as the girl hit the pavement. She rolled over and sat up, clutching at her back, where a spreading stain marred her coat. The mech turned on me.

Oh shit! There was nowhere to go but forward, so I lunged in. The mech didn't have an autocannon in its hands, but as it lifted an arm, I saw a machine gun mounted along its forearm.

I ducked to the side as I rushed in. The gun roared in my ear and sprayed my face with burning powder, but the bullets missed me. My lunge carried me past the end of its outstretched arm. I reached up with both hands, shoving as hard as I could against its forearm.

I was more than a little surprised that this staggered it, knocking the arm aside. The metal man was twice my height, but it was also damaged, and its rider was badly wounded. I could see torn armor along the side of its chest and its other arm.

Somehow its weakness infuriated me even more. This pathetic hunk of metal had killed my friend. How dare this weak piece of Russian scrap attack my unit, damage my mechs, kill Alexander?

The machine started to turn towards me, but I gave it no quarter. I grabbed at the machine gun with my thick fingers and wrenched it clean off the arm with a squeal of metal. The machine roared and backhanded me away. My ribs screamed as I slammed into a brick wall. Stars flashed before my eyes as my head connected with the wall. I landed on my feet and staggered drunkenly.

I tasted blood, and that only pissed me off even more.

With a bellow, I charged in. I ducked its swinging arm and coming up inside its reach. I grabbed at the torn metal of its damaged chest and yanked. Sharp edges cut my hands as something inside the machine creaked. It grabbed at me with its other arm, but its grasp was clumsy. One finger hooked my collar the coat tore right off my back. I was never getting the deposit back on the tuxedo.

I side-kicked the robot in the knee and again the machine staggered. The force of my kick threw me backwards. I came up against the wall again, not as hard this time. I reset and got my balance just in time to twist away from a colossal fist. The mech's punch shattered the wall behind me and showered us both with shards of brick.

Before it could pull its arm out of the wall, I jumped onto its back. I hooked my fingers over the armored collar and pulled myself up. I clung tight as the mech yanked its arm free and spun around. It turned first one way and then the other, and I was shaken like a dog's chew toy. It stopped twisting and reached around to grab at me. I kicked my feet away from its grasp and pulled myself higher.

I snaked my right arm around its neck and grabbed at its metal jawline. A mech's head is twice as large as a man's. I had no problem getting my massive arms around it. Grasping metal fingers found my calf, but I was able to kick free again. I tugged at its head trying to twist its neck, but I didn't have leverage.

The head turned as it tried to shake me off. When it was all the way to the right, I was able to hook my left leg over its shoulder. As it tried to turn its head back, I strained hard against it. The desh actuators strained against my bulging muscles. Only my right arm was able to get good purchase as it tried to turn its head left. The strain on my elbow and shoulder was tremendous. It tried to shake its head, and momentarily, it wasn't resisting me.

I threw my full effort into it and twisted it even farther. This gave me better leverage. When it tried to turn its head back left again, it got nowhere. The mech reached up in front of it and grabbed the leg I had hooked over its shoulder. It was about to rip me limb from limb. In a panic, I threw my full strength into twisting its neck.

Something in its neck whined and then snapped. I yanked. The whole mech trembled, but it didn't let go of my leg. It staggered, then righted itself. Desperately, I reached down and grabbed its massive hand, prying at the fingers. I was off balance when it tugged again, and I fell from its shoulder. My leg slipped out of its grasp as I fell.

The pavement, when I hit it, wasn't any softer than the brick wall had been. I landed in a heap at the mech’s feet and immediately rolled away, trying to gain distance from its massive feet. I got to my knees, then climbed to my feet.

The mech was staggering in a circle, one hand clutching at its neck, the other one flailing wildly. The head itself tilted at an odd angle. It wobbled on the neck wildly as if it wasn’t able to control where it was looking.

Movement caught the corner of my eye and I saw the girl sprawled on the ground, clutching at her head and thrashing. The blood stains on her jacket looked serious. She wasn't going to make it if she didn't get help soon.

My rage had faded during the struggle and now I felt a surge of concern. After all, a dead prisoner was no good to us. I had to finish this fight and get her some first aid.

Would it harm her more if I injured her neck more, fighting her mech? She was clearly in pain from the damage I had just inflicted. I hesitated only a moment, but in that time the girl passed out, her head lolled on the pavement.

The mech twisted its neck to look at me with its head at an awkward angle. It growled.

"Oh shit." I had heard this was a possibility. If the bonded rider wasn't dead, just unconscious, the mech was dangerous to be around. It was risky to do maintenance work on a mech if its operator was in the hospital, for a lot of reasons.

The rogue mech lunged at me, arms wide and grasping. I ducked to the side but got clipped by a flailing hand, which knocked me rolling. As I came up, my hand landed on a brick. My fingers closed around it.

The hardest part about punching something made of metal was what it did to your hands. In a flash of inspiration, I scooped up another brick. With one clutched in each hand, I circled the mech, studying it.

I was farther from its operator now and it seemed less inclined to lunge at me. It twisted its neck and shoulders left and right, trying to get a better look at me with its crazily tilted head. It had damage from cannon shells on its torso, as well as what I had just done to its head. Its left arm was torn open along the bicep, but still functioned, and it favored one of its legs.

I feigned moving towards its rider and the mech shifted. The sudden movement caused its head to loll. Hoping it couldn't see me, I ducked and charged in. I swung my right, brick in hand, hard against its left knee joint. The clay brick exploded into a thousand pieces, and the mech staggered.

I tried to duck away, but the mech shifted. I slammed into its other leg. As it grabbed at me, I changed tactics. I hooked an arm under its left knee and lifted with all my might. It wasn't exactly a power lifter stance, but I was able to throw a lot of force into it. The mech had been shifting, trying to step back and get a grip on me. As I heaved at its leg, its left foot came off the ground and the mech teetered.

I heaved again and it went over slamming into the street with a crash. As the mech went down, it flailed, and one of its legs caught me across the shoulders. I was knocked across the road and landed on a pile of broken bricks.

I rolled over and got up. The mech was struggling with the leg I had hit earlier. Bits and pieces of debris littered the street, and I grabbed another broken brick fragment. It was a move of desperation, since I had nothing else at hand. I took aim and chucked it at its knee.

The brick hit the armor just below the knee joint and shattered with no effect. I snatched up another brick. The mech was on its feet now. I took aim at its head. This time, I connected with a glancing blow off the side of its metal skull.

The head jerked to one side, and the machine reeled drunkenly. I didn't fully understand the magic that animated a mech. I know it got its power from the desh engine in its torso. Was there a place that could be damaged to break the link and separate the machine from the rider?

The damage to its neck seemed to be causing it disorientation, perhaps because it had a hard time pointing its eyes in the direction it intended. Did they have a sense of balance, like a human? Was that in its head? There were so many things I should have asked Alexander, and now it was too late.

I shifted to my left, making for the biggest piece of debris I could find. It was the machine gun I had ripped off the mech's arm earlier. To me, it looked more like a three-foot metal club. I snatched up the gun, wrapping my hands around, grasping it by the big water jacket around its barrel. I held it up like a baseball bat, ready to swing as the mech shuffled forward. It was favoring its damaged knee and twisting side to side to get a look at me. Every time it moved, the head shifted on the broken neck, and it had to turn again to try to keep me in view.

I took two quick steps forward and raised my club. The mech lifted its arms and took a step towards me, reaching out to intercept my attack. But I was feigning. As soon as it jerked forward, its head flopped down, and it lost sight of me.

In that instant, I ducked to the side and came in swinging low for the damaged knee with all my weight behind it. The machine gun hit its knee with a resounding crash. Something broke, both in the machine gun and in the mech. It staggered again. With a sharp crack and a scream of rending metal, the wounded leg collapsed under it, and it went over.

This time, I jumped clear and didn't get struck. My makeshift club was still in my hands, although my fingers had sunk into the water jacket from the strength of my grip. I skirted around the side of the mech and aimed below its head. I came in with a skipping step and swung. The machine gun's body slammed into the side of the mech’s head and knocked it completely off, bouncing away down the road. The impact ripped the water jacket of the machine gun open. The torn metal slipped out of my gasp and landed on the street in a splash.

I stood there, catching my breath. The mech twitched once and then lay still. In my old human body, I would have expected to be shaky from adrenaline after such an event, but this golem body was steady as a rock. My anger had drained. The fighting was over, and now it was time to save lives.

I hurried over to the fallen Russian rider to see what I could do for her. She was still alive. Now I just had to keep her that way.