Ficly

Five! No, three sir. Three!

I became aware just a moment ago. I have no remembrance of any past. About me, sensors begin to feed me information. I’m moving, though not of my own volition. The sun, no… two suns, shine brightly on the… An object flies over me, and I can identify it as an RPG. Rocket propelled grenade. Hulan manufactured, thirty meter 50% kill radius, range 1300 meters. How do I know that?

I bounce and can see down. I’m being carried, by an armored man. Or more precisely a man in a Mk V mechanized battle suit. Friendly, do not engage. More data incoming. Enemy ahead, inside that structure. IR sensors detect minimum 23+ enemy personnel. Command transmissions emanating from inside. Probable Command Post 85+%, target accepted.

I’m hoisted to the soldiers shoulder and in less than a second I am flying across the intervening space and smash through the window. I roll to the feet of one of the Hulan and start to speak…

“I am a 30 second bomb, I am a 30 second bomb, 29, 28, 27…”

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