The feed from the camera is unclear. Distance and atmospheric disruptions cause interference to the reception of the picture. A damaged gyro within the camera's housing adds to the confusion, the sudden concussive vibration of artillery rounds disrupting clarity still further. The soundtrack is mostly explosions and garbled shouting, occasionally swallowed by white noise as the signal fails.
In front of the camera lies a steep sided valley, walls of naked rock and scorched dirt, a dry orange-red, a bruised sky hanging oppressively low overhead, purplish scudding cloud cover. Dante. Sudden movement as a squad of bulky power suits, PP104s, kick up from concealed positions in the craggy landscape. The Dogeybones charge down the valley side, raising drifting clouds of dust, their even spacing and measured formation evident to the camera from its elevated position. One of the suits trips and sprawls, rolling down the rugged incline. The instant its descent slows, the suit jumps to its feet and resumes its place in the pattern.
Now the camera moves. Forwards, into the yawning canyon. The field of view swings quickly to the left, then the right. More suits can be seen in the periphery, matching the camera's bearing and speed, keeping a constant distance. The soldiers advance onwards, towards the target area. Ahead the ground is erupting, soil and shards of stone bursting upwards from explosive shells searching for targets. The camera passes near a fallen suit, a comrade, the upper third missing, blasted apart by a partial hit. The armour is the colour of arterial blood, a rich red just a shade too bright to provide camouflage amongst Dante's barren scenery. Platoon colours. SLA Industries Heavy Armour Platoon 348574#Aleph666, The Triple Sixers.
More suits lie ahead, twisted and fragmented. The camera did not see them fall. The camera has not seen an enemy. Abruptly the view shifts left, over-pans, refocuses. A scarlet suit ahead staggers, driven into the ground by the impacts of heavy fire. The camera zooms, plates of armour sail away from the shuddering suit, pass-through rounds slicking the rocks behind and beneath. The camera zooms back out and pans upslope, seeking the source of the fire. Nothing. It takes a more extreme angle, filling the screen with sky, the valley slope a ruddy triangle in the bottom right corner. Movement. The camera zooms and the monstrous form of a Sarge suit jumps into focus. Two trails of vapour mark the Sarge's trajectory high above the SLA troops, the jump jet exhaust mingling with the blowback from the Thresher Cannon.
A heavy looking rifle barrel swings up to occupy the lower portion of the picture, a FEN 24. The barrel tracks the Sarge, centring on the jump jet ports, but before the shot can be taken the Sarge is torn apart in mid air. An arm separates from the suit and falls from view. The jump jet splutters and fails, leaving the punctured mess of servos and corpse to plummet to the rock below.
The camera pans down, seeking the Sarge-killer. Immediately the picture settles on the hulking form of a power suit, even larger than the Thresher suit it has just felled. A MkIII Sinner, blood red, steam twisting around the rifle's cooling system as it lowers it's aim and turns toward the camera. The armour is old and obviously cherished, numerous ridges and pock marks giving the plates an organic appearance. '666' has been stencilled on the suits shoulder pads and breastplate. This is the last detail the camera picks out. The Sinner salutes, the footage ends.
Copyright Third Eye News, 871 SD.