Revolution! Pt. 3

Flagg · **Posted:** Tue Aug 24, 2004 5:06 am

Finished! YES! Ha ha ha ha ha!

"Man is free at the moment he wishes to be."
-Voltaire

"Is life so dear or peace so sweet as to be purchased at the price of chains and slavery? Forbid it, Almighty God! I know not what course others may take, but as for me, give me liberty, or give me death!"
- Patrick Henry

Petr and Dmitry leapt to their feet, blessed men.

Dmitry jumped forward and threw open his cell doors. “Freedom, comrades!” he bellowed. “For Tikonov!”

The guard never stood a chance. A short scream was all he got off before the newly freed people of Tikonov swept over him like a human tidal wave.

Petr looked about him. There were perhaps just over a hundred prisoners in here, all of whom now were free. He looked to Dmitry, formerly bitter and tired, but now full of an fervent zeal that seemed to infect the entire mob.

“Free peoples of Tikonov!” Dmitry said as he addressed the crowd. “I know of a hidden weapons cache, within the foothills of the Ural Mountains, waiting to arm loyal sons and daughters of Tikonov like ourselves. We go, now!” And he turned and threw open the doors.

Outside, the sky was falling. Weapons fire ripped and hissed through the air, the kind of weapons that could level a city block in the blink of an eye. Titans raged and shook the ground in furious combat. Harpies danced about and tore at each other with razor-sharp shells.

Petr Nevetsky had never been so scared in his entire life.

Dmitry pointed toward the hills, still gripped by the wild-eyed zeal. “We must make our escape, comrades! Everybody, run!”

And over a hundred escaped prisoners ran as one for the mountains, and away from the prison encampment.

In the chaos of the raging battle, it was hours before anyone noticed.

---

Six hours later, Petr Nevetsky wished he was dead.

Dmitry had set the mob at a breakneck run for the foothills, and three hours after their escape from the prison, they had discovered a huge weapons cache filled with laser rifles, satchel charges, and other personal weapons.

Now, they were marching back toward Tikograd, in the hope that they could rejoin their revolutionary brothers and sisters.

Even with a laser rifle cradled in his arm, Petr wished he was dead. The bitter cold had already killed half a dozen of their number, and he wished he could be next. At least in the prison, it had been warm.

He trudged onward through the tundra nevertheless, however. Dmitry paced alongside him, smoking yet another cigarette.

“Come now, comrade, do not shiver,” Dmitry said, noticing Petr’s obvious discomfort. “Let the revolutionary fire burn in your belly, and keep you warm.”

“The only thing I want burning in my belly right now, comrade,” Petr replied, “is some good vodka.”

Several men marching around them grunted in sympathy.

“Da, comrade,” said Dmitry, hefting his rifle. “When we return to Tikograd, I will drink to that.”

And they trudged into silence, the swirling snow enveloping them all.

---

It was evening when they found them.

Petr had been trudging through the snow when he felt the ground rumble for a moment. It stopped, then started again. His eyes went wide, and then a cry went out that chilled his blood far more than the snow and cold ever could:

“BattleMech!”

Somebody screamed.

Then he saw it, lumbering out of the snowy gloom. A huge BattleMech, a Bushwacker by the look of it, stalked forward with all the menace of one of the great carnivorous reptiles of prehistoric Terra.

It stopped, then, and faced down at him.

The great metal titan fixed its steely gaze on these free men and women. And a hundred pairs of eyes glared right back.

The pilot’s voice came over the ‘Mech’s speakers.

“Citizens of Tikonov, cease and desist at once. Lay down your weapons and you will not be harmed. Any attempt to escape or resist will be met with maximum force.”

Dmitry spat with as much hatred as one could possibly put into saliva. Then he hefted his laser rifle and fired.

It was the last thing he ever did.

The Bushwacker pivoted toward Dmitry, and the huge laser mounted in the center of its chest lashed out like Hell’s whip. In less than an instant, Dmitry was reduced to a red mist.

Then the Bushwacker turned and drew a line in the snow with its laser. It left a trench deep enough for ten men to hide in.

Petr, who had been setting down his rifle like the Mechwarrior had commanded, watched Dmitry die. And something inside him snapped.

Slowly, a spark formed in his belly.

Petr unslung his rifle, and, aware of the hundreds of eyes watching him from behind and the giant metal one looming over him, burned his own line in the snow.

It was small, of course. Pitiful, compared to the trench the ‘Mech had made. But it said more, that line, than anything any man could ever say.

That line was the next cog of history clicking into place.

The spark in Petr’s belly turned became a fire.

The fire of revolution.

“For Tikonov!” Petr screamed.

Time stopped, for just a moment.

Then, without warning, it began again.

“FOR TIKONOV!” the mob bellowed. They yelled so loud it deafened the Mechwarrior. The noise rose over the howling snow, over the thrumming fusion engine. It rose to the heavens themselves. Then it came smashing back down.

It was a tidal wave.

And the mob charged.

“FOR TIKONOV!”

And Petr, and the people of Tikonov, were finally free.

FIN

Welcome to the HeavyMetalPro Forums

Revolution! Pt. 3

Revolution! Pt. 3

Revolution! Pt. 3

Who is online