Before Reiter could say anything in his defense, he noticed a command car pulling up. Excusing himself, he stopped and saluted when Borisov got out. “What do you think?” he asked as he looked at the Lowe.
“She’s as good as ever,” Reiter said. “So you approve my plan?” Borisov nodded.
“I do, but we’re going to have to move up your timetable,” he said. “We got an urgent communication from Lieutenant Wesser, she’s alive, but they’re trapped inside the facility.”
“They’re alive,” he said, relived. “How soon do we need to move out?”
The acting commander swept his gaze across the encampment in the clearing. Infantry filled sand bags and stacked them up on the front and flanks of their Iglasios. Techs rushed about repairing damaged equipment and troubleshooting new systems. The pilots sat off to the side, conducting map rehearsals.
“As soon as rappers are finished,” he said.
Kennedy paced about in his coveralls, his cooling jacket snug around his shoulders. Seven panzerters, including mine. That’s all we can manage right now. He sighed. It would have to do, though he wasn’t confident it would hold up against the Weather’s-panzerters.
They certainly looked vicious. Remembering how easily they’d torn apart the Tharcians made him shiver. He looked up to Guard-Major Fournier walking along the catwalk. Kennedy was taking his second in command, Gallant, with him on this mission as well as a select few personal from the other panzerter companies. Without Irving, Kennedy had appointed Fournier as the acting commander while he was out. Just in case something happened.
Which seemed to be the case, as Fournier descended a staircase towards him. “We just got word from Comrade Colonel Meyer,” he said. “She wants us to withdraw from the mountains and move North closer to Pulaski.”
“What?” Kennedy replied. “What about our supply lines into Olympia? Not to mention Weathers’s damnable lab.” Fournier pulled up a map on his datapad.
“This is actually fortuitous for us,” he said. “We’re getting second-line units to hold the supply lines. Our division is moving to West of Pulaski to rebuild, although I doubt a major offensive will come anytime soon.” Kennedy nodded as news of the victory at Eden’s Gate had reached them, to cheers and shouts.
“It’s up to our comrades in the Northeast to keep up the pressure on them,” Kennedy said. “That being said, we still need to conduct this mission.” Fournier raised an eyebrow.
“Meyer is insetting we pull back immediately,” he said. “It’s a direct order.”
“And we will,” Kennedy said. “But we need to ensure that Weather’s research is either recovered or destroyed. Recovering a talented officer like Irving is only a plus.” He didn’t mean the last part. He wouldn’t have gone against Meyer had the talented executive officer not been in danger and would have likely just sealed the entrances with explosives.
Fournier nodded. “All that being said, thanks to Avalon’s aide, we’ll be getting millions in reinforcements,” he said. “It could turn the tide of the war back in our favor.”
After checking his watch, Kennedy looked at the pilots outside their machines. “We’re going to move out, prep everything to leave and push the scouts out first,” he said. “We should be back within the hour.” He turned and walked towards his Martian. “All pilots, complete your operational checks and mount up. All tech teams prepare to launch panzerters.”
He got to the ladder and climbed onto the shoulder of his machine before clambering onto the head. As he popped his hatch, he locked eyes with Fournier. The other soldier saluted him, as did the other soldiers on the walkway. He returned their salutes and dropped down the hatch.
After closing the secondary hatch just over the cockpit, he secured himself in his chair. The sensor ring flared to life. Optical cameras, thermal imaging, spectrometers, and radar all blended into a filtered overlay that Kennedy could cycle given the situation. His engine, electrical, and fire control systems passed all of their built-in tests and the techs retracted the cables and scaffolding that prevented his unit from moving.
Because his strobe laser still required maintenance, he instead opted to bring a spare assault rifle and under barrel laser instead. Gently, he followed a tech, guiding him out of the field hanger that was already undergoing disassembly. Once all his machines fell ins behind him, he oriented himself on Weather’s mountain.
“All units, Reaper 6,” he said. “Move out.” They stepped off into the thick woods that saturated the highlands. A single Capricorn joined them with charges to seal off the exits of the base. It would have to do.
The Martians advanced in a wide wedge, each one picking up a different sector in the event that the Tharcians tried to get cute. I shouldn’t have any issues. The Tharcians have been all but wiped out in this sector. That being said, I can never be too careful.
In the distance, he thought he could see movement in the trees on the far side of the mountain. Kennedy narrowed his eyes. So, they might get cute after all. Well, if that’s the case, I’ll be ready. They won’t stop me.
According to the command matrix, the mountain lab lay on a few dozen kilometers away. Kennedy took a deep breath and increased his pace. I’m coming, Ivy, don’t worry.
21
As her Tiger stalked through the darkness, Bartonova grit her teeth. Swinging the standard rifle from side to side allowed her to keep it flexible, in case she suddenly needed to target something. However, they’d made it about half the distance they originally advanced and had yet to encounter a panzerter. Only scattered IFVs and infantry defended the city here. I swear I’ll get five this time.
When shapes ran across the street in front of her, her night vision outlined them in a yellow-white silhouette. They lacked friendly transponders.
She kicked the head mounted machine guns into action. Asphalt and concrete cracked and showered the survivors as they rushed into a cafe.
“Oh, no, you don’t,” she said as she snapped a controlled pair into the building. The two hundred millimeter rounds burst inside the building, blowing out windows on the upper floor and starting fires. Before she could follow up, Fletcher stopped her.
“There’s no need for that,” the tuber said. “There’s no way they survived the overpressure.” Bartonova sniffed. I need to save these for my fish kill any way.
In the distance, guns rumbled. Occasionally, eerie green light lit up a section of the city, indicating laser fire from the union defenders. Tracers burned in the night sky as artillery from both sides hammered positions outside of the city.
This is bullshit. Everywhere else, there’s ferocious fighting, and yet here it’s like a nature hike. As she crossed through the park they’d previously cleared, she caught heat on her thermal scans. Switching to that filter, she saw the fatman from the previous day. It sat right where she left it, but its engine read like it was actively trying to move. She cracked a predatory smile. Gotcha.
She brought her rifle to bear on the stricken panzerter. Just before she could fire, Magyar cried out in alarm. “6 watch out!” Her head snapped to her left just in time for her cockpit to fill with a sickly green light. A hiss of static cut off Magyar’s scream as her unit vanished in an ammo explosion.
“Damn, it’s a trap!” Bartonova cried. She fired her smoke grenades, as did Zoro and Fletcher. The two other pilots fell back behind her, brining them into a firing line oriented on the new enemy.
“That’s a high-powered laser!” Fletcher said. “I couldn’t even see the shooter!” Before Bartonova could respond, she noticed something odd on her battlenet. At first she assumed an Avenger company panzerter just wandered between some buildings, but then another lost signal, and then another.
“Brave company, Avenger 6,” Colonel Dent cried. “You’ve got a new model headed your way- Varga get back!” The man swore, and she heard a muffled explosion followed by cannon fire nearby. “Damn it, he’s too fast!-ah!” The transmission from Avenger ended in harsh static.
; Our smoke’s going to thin out soon, and we’re going to get shot at again. I can probably take a few hits like that, but the others clearly can’t. And we have an unknown contact moving in on us.
“Fletcher, take Zoro and sun out that sniper,” Bartonova snapped. “I’ll distract it until you can get closer.” Before either pilot could protest, she knelt in her Tiger and began dumping rounds towards the last position of the sniper. Hopefully, I can dump most of my ammo before that fast mover comes.
The high velocity rounds punched neat holes in the smoke. Sure enough, between bursts, her thermal sensors detected an intense build up on the far end of a road on the opposite end of the park. Two plus kilometers? Jesus Lord, that is a high-powered laser. She fired again. Her FCS adjusted for a better firing solution with very shot, but Bartonova intended to hold him down more than anything else.
She saw the sinister green glow and twisted the Tiger so its shield arm faced the sniper head on. The initial pulse sent molten metal all over the street. Bartonova gritted her teeth as alarms blared. The backside of the shield glowed orange before bursting from the heat. An extra long exposure, huh?
The laser bored into the Tiger’s shoulder. More systems went offline. Her coolant system went yellow then orange as the panzerter struggled to figure out how to cool itself as the laser dug into the armor. Missiles streaked towards the origin, followed by a stream of shells.
Bartonova let go of the breath she’d been holding, but was surprised when she looked back at the fatman. Standing next to the machine was a stockier, low profile panzerter. Its disk shaped head resembled a tinhats, but smaller and narrower, angular, shaped armor covered its limbs and it vaguely reminded her of her grandmother’s stories of goblins and trolls.
As its sensors glowed a menacing red, she slapped her final magazine in her rifle and opened fire.
Sweat beaded on Ballard’s forehead, just under his helmet. He wore the standard coveralls of ground vehicle crew as well as a dual purpose cooling and flak jacket. His helmet protected his head, and its visor filtered the light, hitting his eyes and reduced glare.
He’d anticipated the big panzerter opening up on him now that its comrades were tied up with Law. Sidestepping behind some nearby buildings, he activated his thrusters and launched himself over the big panzerter. Firing his shotgun as he left, he gracefully came down behind the Tharcian. I’m going to have to thank Chaney for the improved suspension.
He kept to his opponent’s blind spot, blasting away with his shotgun. The flechette rounds, clustered spears made of tungsten and titanium, worried the armor, but unlike his earlier enemies, none of his hits penetrated. When he ran out of blind spot, he lept to the next street over.
I need to think this out a little. It’s likely that they’ve expended most of their ammo, and the armors thick enough that I can’t count on an engine hit. Which means I need to get in real close to finish this. He cycled the new multi-munition launcher to smoke rounds and took to the air again.
His opponent anticipated this, firing a burst directly into his flight path. Ballard twisted and jinked, firing smoke rounds into the Tharcians face. The shock of which threw off their aim and allowed him to stick the landing directly in front of them. He tossed away his shotgun as he spent his last round and drew his sword axe. Best to save the Impulse sword as a trump card.
Opening with a glancing blow to the shoulder, he ducked out of range as the panzerter drew its sword. It was almost too easy. He danced in and out of the panzerter’s reach, each blow chipping away at its thick armor.
“I have to admit, they made this one especially sturdy,” he said to no one in particular. He sidestepped another blow, landed a kick square center of mass, and twirled away as the panzerter fell. “I need to end this. Law can’t occupy those other two forever.”
As he stepped away from another awkward lunge, a calm chime told him the Phobian’s tazers had charged. He also noticed the Thracian protecting its left side. A wicked scar from the super laser told Ballard why.
“I know hat I need to do,” he said as he ignited his thrusters again. This time, instead of jumping over his opponent, he jumped into the park. As he landed, he lunged with the sword-axe. Easily knocking aside the Tharcians blade, he hacked at their joints, specifically knees, elbows, and shoulders. Though the armor was thick, it couldn’t fully enclose the joints as it moved. Seams formed. Sparks flew.
A knee hit the ground. Then another. The Tharcian threw its hands out to catch itself, crushing its sword under its weight. Its arms buckled as the damaged limbs struggled to keep itself from collapsing. Pathetic.
Magnetic grappling hooks launched from the Phobian’s wrists, shoulders, and hips. They found purchase on the head and upper body of the damaged Tharcian. All at once the stored excess power from the Phobian’s engines was discharged directly into the enemy panzerter.
Sparks and smoke danced across its surface. its magnetic joints failed. In rapid succession, its hands were crushed by the weight of its arms, followed by the elbows popping and snapping as the hips broke free of the lags. The head and torso slammed into the ground with enough force to rock his panzerter.
“What a pathetic machine if it can’t handle its own weight unpowered,” he spat. Then he noticed the head twitch. “This is likely a commander’s unit.” He sighed. “I hate killing a defenseless opponent, but this loss will shorten the war… hopefully.”
He raised the sword axe high over his head when his radar flared a warning. Ballard had a split second to ignite his thrusters and dodge a missile aimed in his direction. Guess Law bailed on them. As he rose into the air, he came under fire from a normal panzerter’s rifle.
“I’ll close with and defeat you shortly,” he said as he landed in a side street and charged the panzerter while it reloaded. Crossing an intersection, he was nearly blindsided by another panzerter with its sword. He had just enough time to block the incoming blow and get back. Seems like I’m not quite done here.
Bartonova didn’t exactly have a good angle to see things. The moment her main cameras came back, the Tiger’s head was wedged halfway into the ground. All of her limbs were offline. Her harness dug into her shoulders and hips as she hung from her seat. This is bullshit. I had five. This is bullshit.
She heard the sounds of panzerter combat nearby. She gently rocked in her seat as the something struck something nearby. I should stay in here. I stand a better chance of being recovered. Yeah, I’m safe in here. Her head pounded. Her harness cut even deeper into her body. Ok, maybe not in this chair.
As she hung over the controls, she released her harness. Swinging her legs down, she stood on the cracked main monitor as she steadied herself with the top of her chair. Somewhere in the night, a plasma sword flashed. Suddenly her machine rocked and then rocked harder. Her headset hissed with static, but she could just make out someone talking on the other end.
They’re trying to talk to me. If I can’t hear them, it’s because the main antenna is damaged, so I should be using my back up antenna. Despite the awkward positioning, she was able to pop the fuse box open. She flicked both sets of communications fuses off, then back on.
Another electronic hiss, then a burst of static, and she could hear much more clearly. “Brave 6, Brave 6, are you there?” Zoro asked. She sighed with relief.
“I’m here Blue 3,” Bartonova responded. “Can you reach me?”
“It’ll be dicey,” Zoro replied. “Blue 2 currently has that enemy occupied, but I can’t tell for how long. Can you get out of your cockpit?” As Bartonova opened her mouth to protest, she already knew she was wrong. Despite any feeling of safety she had enclosed in the Tiger, it was immobile and too heavy for the Panzerter IVs to draw back under fire.
“I’ll give it a shot,” she said as she crawled over to the cockpit controls. With a push of a button, she heard a deep honk. Oh no no no. She disabled the electric cockpit mechanism and switched to manual, pulling the shaft for the hand crank out as she went. Slamming the hand
le into its place, she cranked as hard as she could, despite her awkward position in the fallen cockpit. The hatch opened just slightly, and then got caught against the ground.
“No, no, damn it!” She cried. She stopped cranking to kick the top of the hatch, but to no avail. Then Zoro came over the radio.
“Get away from the head,” Zoro cried. “I’m on my way.” Bartonova pushed herself up against the cockpit floor. Grabbing her legs, she tried to make herself as small as possible.
The screech of tearing metal filled her ears, followed by the cackle of a plasma sword. She closed her eyes and turned her head, but still felt the massive heat from the sword.
When the heat began to recede, she looked over to see a massive panzerter hand prying the cockpit the rest of the way to reach her. The hand hoisted her into the night sky, the spring air feeling extra cool as the panzerter hurriedly dumped her near the cockpit. Zoro popped the hatch and Bartonova wedged herself into the pitiful jump seat.
“Where’s Fletcher?” She asked, but she quickly saw her answer. Her panzerter fought with a sword in each hand against the fast mover. She held the enemy’s blade in a v-shaped lock. Straightening her blades, she cut through the sword axe with their combined heat and slashed forward.
The fast mover left back and then lost itself among the buildings. “We need to hurry. Things aren’t going to plan,” Fletcher said. Flares rose above the skyline of the empty city. Bartonova squinted.
“What does yellow mean?” She asked. “Isn’t that medevac?”
“They’re Union. It means advance,” Fletcher said as they began running back the way they came. “And they’re all over the outer edges of the city.” Son of a bitch, they got us. I can’t believe they got us.
“This is like what we did to them with Ironton,” Bartonova said. “Except on a much larger scale.” Artillery fire from the Union side intensified. More tracers lit up the night, and drones streaked about, searching for targets. Bartonova groaned.
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