Don’t move. Please don’t move.
At Nav Point 7, the resupply team was already setting up the portable catapult. A young tech with grease on his face waved him into the repair cradle.
He didn’t sleep that night. But the GM flew again at dawn. That’s the war. Want me to expand this into a full short story or write a sequel from the Zeon perspective? Mobile Suit Gundam- MS Sensen 0079 -Normal Down...
“Normal down, Ensign,” the tech said, not looking up from the GM’s shredded knee. “You walk or you get carried. That’s the rule.”
Rolf swore under his breath. Forty minutes. His GM’s fuel gauge read 14%. Leg actuators were squealing in the recorded playback—that telltale grind of sand in the knee joints. And the 100mm machine gun? Twenty-three rounds left. One burst. Maybe two. Don’t move
Silence.
Rolf didn’t think. He squeezed the trigger. A young tech with grease on his face
“Thunder Lead, this is Thunder 3. Bogey down but intact. Requesting clearance to withdraw.” His voice was flat, recycled oxygen dry in his throat.