Battle Report: Day 13

Personal Log: Shas’la Bork’an S’aal.

Medusa V: Day 13:

I hate swamps. No. I really hate swamps. When we dismounted into the swamp and began setting up the tripods for the rail rifles, I had a feeling we were in trouble. A Devilfish was not supposed to shake in flight the way that particular jaunt did. I could hear battle cries, and metal against our hull . . . I didn’t know what was hitting us, but I knew the explosion that threw us around in our restraints couldn’t be a good thing. The pilot simply, and quite calmly, informed us that the missile pods had been hit. Bloody Sa’cea. They never seem to be rattled by anything. I suppose getting rattled by things won’t really help matters, but it’s amazing to see them walk out from a hail of enemy fire, completely unruffled, though bleeding. But I digress, and the odd behavior of various septs does not belong in my personal log.

I got a good look at what had damaged the Devilfish, as I brought my rail rifle around. The sounds I had been hearing made sense. . . giant chain-swords, almost as tall as the Gue’la women wielding them. I had seen them once before, they were berserkers, and, as such, very dangerous. They were slashing at the underside of the Devilfish, and actually inflicting sizable damage. I decided I did not want to know the exact specifications of that particular weapon.

Even that, however, is not why I hate swamps. It was when the ground gave way beneath us to mud and water that I knew we were in trouble. Someone didn’t quite move in time. . . I don’t know how deep that mud was, but we tried to pull him free.

That was when we got charged. The rail rifles and all their equipment became useless as the women came charging through the swamp, heedless of the dangers. Even the photon grenades barely slowed them down. I got to find out exactly how effective those weapons were.

I was lucky to survive. If it hadn’t been for Shas’la M’nai, whom was overlooked by the Gue’la, I don’t think we would have survived, as, once the Gue’la had left, he called for an evac. I think . . I don’t really remember. I do remember Shas’el M’yen commented about the mud on our armour, and wondered if we were attempting a new form of stealth. Shas’el Nai’sha simply busied herself in work, once the medics managed to assure her that we would be alright.

I still hate swamps.