Interesting Times, Dangerous Places #346: “Knife Fight” 01/13/3133
INN - Interstellar News Network
The first moments of the Swordsworn’s assault on the heart of Anqabad were very
nearly my last. Grabbing my recording gear, I headed out into the city with scant
thought for safety. A chunk of drop-pod flattened a nearby ground car, peppering the
street with glass and metal. A man standing where I’d been moments earlier collapsed
in a pool of blood. Others moved to help the fallen man, and I continued my journey
into the maelstrom. It was easy to decide where to go: loud bangs and flashes marked
the site of conflict between the Wolves and the inbound Swordsworn.
I’d gone about two blocks before I saw the first signs of combat: the wreckage of a
militia Shandra that was still smoking after being hit by heavy-caliber weapons. There
was blood on the pilot’s seat—probably enough that he or she was dead—but there
was no body. Presumably his comrades had extricated the driver and taken him to the
militia first aid center about six blocks east. Another block down, a groundcar had had
its hood crumpled by a massive blow. Though distorted by the engine block, the dent
was clearly the footprint of a ’Mech—a big one, no doubt the same one that had
totaled the scout vehicle. Then, a dozen yards up the street, a glint of light on moving
metal caught my eye. I trained my camera on the spot and saw a militia trooper
looking back at me. He grinned and lifted his weapon, waving me over.
I dashed across the street to the doorway where he stood. A whole squad waited just
inside the building, their weapons at the ready. “You might want to steer clear of this
area, Mr. Shaw,” said the fellow who had summoned me, a sergeant whose name tag
said Lee. “There’re several squads of Hauberks tasked to clear houses and secure the
district for the Sworders. They shoot first and ask questions later.”
“You don’t know me very well, do you?” I asked, smiling, and he grinned back. “So
what’s the situation?”
“A demi-Company of Sworders dropped right into the city center and are advancing
into the government district,” he said. “They’re up against roughly the same number
of Wolves, who are attempting to push them back. The situation is fluid, though most
of the fighting is about three blocks over on National.” I asked if he knew who the
Swordsworn commander was. “Some Marik woman by the name of Jameson seems
in charge,” he said. “Riding a Ryoken. You heard of her?”
If only he’d known. “You could say that.” He seemed intrigued, but he never got a
chance to dig deeper. On the far side of the room, one of the troopers opened up with
his rifle at a target down the street. “Battle armor coming up the left side. Half a dozen
suits,” the man shouted. More then enough to beat us, he didn’t have to add. Lee
turned to me. “You’d better get out of here, Mr. Shaw. This isn’t going to be pretty.
There’s a back door over there that leads into an alley.” I held out my hand, and he
shook it. “Go now.”
Snapping a last picture of the determined militia soldiers, I did. Sergeant Lee had
already turned away and was directing the actions of his men. A man-pack laser
aimed out the window, sniping at the approaching armored infantry. Even so, their
chances were slim, and I wondered what would become of him and his squad. Just
more statistics in this new war?
INN is pleased to announce a syndication deal with Black Border publications for the
rights to publish articles by famed political and war correspondent Cameron Shaw.
Mr. Shaw is best known for his coverage of the ongoing conflict in the former Free
Worlds League. His knack for being in the right place (or the wrong place, depending
on your point of view) at the right time has put him in the thick of many of the great
engagements of recent years. He reported from Albi on Manihiki as forces of the
Regulan Fiefs seized the city, and from Sophie’s World when the Oriente Protectorate
and Marik-Stewart Commonwealth clashed for control of that strategic world. He is
known for his long-running syndicated diary “Interesting Times, Dangerous Places,”
in which he portrays the great events of our time with a mix of humor and pathos.
INN - Interstellar News Network
The first moments of the Swordsworn’s assault on the heart of Anqabad were very
nearly my last. Grabbing my recording gear, I headed out into the city with scant
thought for safety. A chunk of drop-pod flattened a nearby ground car, peppering the
street with glass and metal. A man standing where I’d been moments earlier collapsed
in a pool of blood. Others moved to help the fallen man, and I continued my journey
into the maelstrom. It was easy to decide where to go: loud bangs and flashes marked
the site of conflict between the Wolves and the inbound Swordsworn.
I’d gone about two blocks before I saw the first signs of combat: the wreckage of a
militia Shandra that was still smoking after being hit by heavy-caliber weapons. There
was blood on the pilot’s seat—probably enough that he or she was dead—but there
was no body. Presumably his comrades had extricated the driver and taken him to the
militia first aid center about six blocks east. Another block down, a groundcar had had
its hood crumpled by a massive blow. Though distorted by the engine block, the dent
was clearly the footprint of a ’Mech—a big one, no doubt the same one that had
totaled the scout vehicle. Then, a dozen yards up the street, a glint of light on moving
metal caught my eye. I trained my camera on the spot and saw a militia trooper
looking back at me. He grinned and lifted his weapon, waving me over.
I dashed across the street to the doorway where he stood. A whole squad waited just
inside the building, their weapons at the ready. “You might want to steer clear of this
area, Mr. Shaw,” said the fellow who had summoned me, a sergeant whose name tag
said Lee. “There’re several squads of Hauberks tasked to clear houses and secure the
district for the Sworders. They shoot first and ask questions later.”
“You don’t know me very well, do you?” I asked, smiling, and he grinned back. “So
what’s the situation?”
“A demi-Company of Sworders dropped right into the city center and are advancing
into the government district,” he said. “They’re up against roughly the same number
of Wolves, who are attempting to push them back. The situation is fluid, though most
of the fighting is about three blocks over on National.” I asked if he knew who the
Swordsworn commander was. “Some Marik woman by the name of Jameson seems
in charge,” he said. “Riding a Ryoken. You heard of her?”
If only he’d known. “You could say that.” He seemed intrigued, but he never got a
chance to dig deeper. On the far side of the room, one of the troopers opened up with
his rifle at a target down the street. “Battle armor coming up the left side. Half a dozen
suits,” the man shouted. More then enough to beat us, he didn’t have to add. Lee
turned to me. “You’d better get out of here, Mr. Shaw. This isn’t going to be pretty.
There’s a back door over there that leads into an alley.” I held out my hand, and he
shook it. “Go now.”
Snapping a last picture of the determined militia soldiers, I did. Sergeant Lee had
already turned away and was directing the actions of his men. A man-pack laser
aimed out the window, sniping at the approaching armored infantry. Even so, their
chances were slim, and I wondered what would become of him and his squad. Just
more statistics in this new war?
INN is pleased to announce a syndication deal with Black Border publications for the
rights to publish articles by famed political and war correspondent Cameron Shaw.
Mr. Shaw is best known for his coverage of the ongoing conflict in the former Free
Worlds League. His knack for being in the right place (or the wrong place, depending
on your point of view) at the right time has put him in the thick of many of the great
engagements of recent years. He reported from Albi on Manihiki as forces of the
Regulan Fiefs seized the city, and from Sophie’s World when the Oriente Protectorate
and Marik-Stewart Commonwealth clashed for control of that strategic world. He is
known for his long-running syndicated diary “Interesting Times, Dangerous Places,”
in which he portrays the great events of our time with a mix of humor and pathos.
| January 13, 3133 |