Utterly Mad

Since this would be a good place to post our non-smut background stuff, I'll post an old one I had elsewhere.

Timeline: The day the imminent cataclysm began to spiral out of control.

People involved: Nathaniel, alt-Hector

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The group made their way towards the rudimentary checkpoint in column, expecting everything to be fine given things appeared to be under control up ahead. Sounds of distant weapons fire and the cries of the undead could still be faintly heard on the wind.

"3-13, this is 2-14. We are approaching checkpoint Kilo, requesting sit-rep." came a voice over the radio. There were 15 of them in total. 2 humvees in front, followed by 3 experimental models of APC. Then 4 light tanks, 4 main battle tanks, and finally 2 experimental minireactor-powered tankettes. "3-13, do you read me? Checkpoint's up but I d-"

Someone interrupted, a woman's voice. "This is corporal Andrews, 1st squad, 3rd platoon, 3-13. Checkpoint is hot, I repeat. Checkpoint is hot! Platoon is fucked, unmanned is mal-" Gunfire resounded and cut off the signal, overheard from a building nearby. The column had just halted when the checkpoint's anti-materiel turret whirled about, a .50 caliber round ripping into the driver of the lead humvee.

Suddenly all around them the formation was taking fire, several unmanned armored vehicles, mainly light tank drones and a few chicken-like machines, forced the group to frantically try and break out from the flanking AIs.

Radio chatter at that point was abuzz with activity, a sudden explosion rocking the city block as one of the tankettes went up in a plume of flame, scattering debris and pieces of radioactive material everywhere. That and the sweeping flames of a nearby machine forced several of the scattering tanks to button up their hatches.

Among them in the chaos, two of the light tanks had turned down a side road, the lead veering and swerving around a stricken, burnt-out schoolbus to buy a moment's reprieve from wild AI-controlled turret fire. In the rear tank of the pair, Corporal Nathaniel Ford was frantically managing the storm of radio reports, directing his crew, and watching the camera feeds. "Gunner, target walker 4 o'clock, 60 meters. Tomcat 2, UAFV at 9 o'clock, 120 meters." he directed.

Nearby was a burning wreck that used to be one of the APCs, the crew and personnel from Division XV almost all killed by a tank drone round that struck it. Out of the wreckage were 3 survivors, powered armor visibly glowing from the heat as they simply walked out into the street. The glow faded from visual and thermal imaging as advanced climate control and environmental systems worked overtime, one returning fire on a distant chicken walker with a nearly-overheated laser rifle, the others searching for any intact weapons as the fire had ruined theirs. For now, the two tanks drove on.

He remembered with some amusement the nicknames he and other crews had picked for the various armor in the company. Nothing that special really. Tomcat 1-4 for the lights, Bobcat 1-4 for the heavies, Lynx 1 and 2 for the atomic mini-tanks. A resounding boom echoed through the street as an armor-piercing shell reduced a two-legged monstrosity of a machine to a tangled mess of metal. The tank in front of them moved to put a ruined old house between them and the tank drone that was speeding along the street. He didn't know their commander that well, a corporal Allen or Alex or something like that. But he knew the driver, his friend Hector. Very reason he was in this disorganized mess of a unit, slinging phrases and unit designations that were a clusterfuck compared to regular Army organization.

"Commander, reloading AP." the gunner answered over the intercom, seeing the tank ahead of him swirling its gun barrel to knock out another drone they hadn't seen, the one they saw nearing the cover of a building. "Fire at will!" Nathaniel directed, seeing that they had only a moment before another building would obscure the target, wishing that these machines had enough of heat signature to track them through cover, given the 120mm round could easily punch through the building. There was a sudden jolt as the tank rolled a tread right over a stranded car, right as the main gun fired. A spray of shattered pavement filled the air as the round struck the ground several feet off-target, the gunner frantically loading as the machine slipped out of sight. What he could see clearly was an impact that rocked the right side of the other light tank, having just turned and rolled towards the closest available cover.

"H-hec...to-Tomcat 2, are you still up? Are you reading me?" Nathaniel said, voice breaking a bit. To his surprise, Hector answered him, having flicked a switch on his console. "I'm still up, Tomcat-1. Commander and gunner are out, cameras are half-blind." he said, the tank turning awkwardly. The right track was also barely holding up.

"Tomcat-2, get in defilade and across the street, I will have eyes on tango shortly." Nathaniel directed. Hector meanwhile was fumbling with the controls, feeling how the machine was struggling to keep going. He felt his side, feeling the blood running down, before regarding the pock-marked panel of steel that had driven spalling into him when the round hit the tank. He'd been through worse, he thought. But simply walking out of this wasn't an option, and he knew Nathaniel might get himself killed trying to help him limp out of danger.

"Negative. Nate, I'm hit. Get that fucker and fall back." he said, prompting Nathaniel to go a bit pale. "Hect...Tomcat 2. This is an order, get in cover..." he said, unable to manage the sort of commanding tone he was used to. The stricken light tank was simply trundling down the street, leaving itself exposed to the tank drone. "Gunner, fire on visual!"

In a split-second, so many things happened at once. The light tank erupted into a ball of flames, sending wreckage in every direction, turret sent sailing into the air. A round had hit it straight through the back, exploding inside and setting off a chain reaction. In nearly the same instant the main gun on Nathaniel's own tank repaid an eye for an eye, catastrophically taking out the tank drone.

"Fuck! Tomcat 1 h-here, is anyone still up?" he said, having to practically force himself to call out on the radio. Someone else answered. "This is Bobcat 4, we're holding steady. I see multiple unmanned pushing through a mob of X-rays, en route to your location. I am holding Colonial street, advise falling back."

It was then that another voice came on the radio. "Captain Richardson to 2-14. Division HQ is confirming that every AO with functioning unmanned is fucked! Anyone still up, pull out and link up with 24-11 if possible. Otherwise, you have your contingencies." For a moment, weapons fire drowned out the voice on the radio. "We're immobile and X-rays are closing in fast. You have your orders, out."

It seemed like days but in truth had been mere minutes. Most of the unit's armor was taken out in seconds, the light tanks pushing through several now-traitorous machines only to be whittled down, and most of the main battle tanks pinned down until only one had broken out. By then it was just a single light tank and a main battle tank frantically fleeing the mess as zombies swarmed over the last few dismounted soldiers, mobbing rogue war machines that fired on living and dead, civilian and military, as if anything moving was fair game.

They couldn't get any word from HQ, nor the group they were directed to link up with. The two tank crews were on their own...