DN - Piledrive

The mecha screams—like, literally a speaker crackles on and then some guy is screaming in rage at me. “This doesn’t involve you; just leave us alone!” There’s something about the voice that strikes me as familiar.

It fires its attitude jets and spins over on its back to slash at me with a hissing saber. I dodge, and it sprays me with a burst from its chest-mounted machine gun.

My fingers crunch through steel and ceramic, and I flip it back over by its legs. With a firm grip on its flaming engines, I start powering toward the ground. There’s a nice open stretch of road I’m aiming for; I don’t want this to fall on anyone. The pilot tries to wriggle out of my grip, but I stay tight against his back. Just a dozen feet up or so I let go and it plows into the ground in a shower of sparks and shattered asphalt, bounces, skids, and comes up to its feet in a fighting stance.

Which, you know, isn’t even close to fair. It’s all dented and banged up, but I think I should have gotten a little more out of pile driving it from fifty stories up.

- Dreadnought, Chapter 33