Thursday, December 22, 2016

Outlaws

In my latest story, from my own imagined WR universe, the Martian city states of New Texas and the Peoples Republic of Mars are at war over mining rights. Can the Texan's new War'bots help them defeat a more powerful foe backed by a massive corporation?

Mars.
The Republic of New Texas. Formerly the Union colony of New Texas.
A contested region known as Gordon’s Canyon.

Captain James Tao led his squad of six Fujin medium war’bots along the red rocked rim of a canyon that looked nearly identical to the last one they had searched. The ‘bots four crab like legs made the rough martian terrain easy to traverse. Tao sat elevated in the center of his Fujins state of the art cockpit. Down and to his left and right sat his gunner and sensor officer. He wiped his eyes. The holographic display of their surroundings was an eye strain to look at after several hours, despite its high quality. He glanced down at the sensor officer’s displays, but saw no sign of enemy activity.

Since the Union government’s collapse the former colonies of New Texas and Mars city, now known as the Peoples federation of Mars had been at odds over possession of the region between their two sprawling city states known as Gordon’s canyon. Recently the leadership of the people's federation had resorted to removing Texan miners and colonists by force. The Texan government had resisted but was clearly outmatched and slowly lost ground. After a few large scale battles in which Federation forces had easily gained victory the Texans had resorted to guerrilla tactics with their antiquated war’bots in an attempt to delay the inevitable. Captain Tao, and his peers, respected the Texans stubbornness, even if they didn’t understand it.

The Peoples Federation of Mars leadership had been shrewd and seen many months before hand that the only resolution with their fiercely independent neighbors would be through military conquest. In preparation, Federation agents had brokered an exclusive agreement with the TriTek manufacturing corporation. In exchange for exclusive access to TriTeks top of the line Fujin and Rajin War’ bots The Peoples Federation of Mars would supply decades worth of refined ores from Gordon’s Canyon to TriTek at very low costs. So in the preceding months the Federations military leaders had established three new premier War’bot companies. Two Fujin Assault companies and a Rajin Heavy support Company, seventy two brand new war’bots in addition to their regular forces and a contingent of mercenaries.

By comparison, the bulk of Texan War’bots encountered on the battlefield had been light Destriers and its medium rated big brother the Patton. Intelligence gathered prior to open hostilities had indicated only one company of Heavy chassis War’bots in the Texan arsenal. That company, a company of Griffins, had been lured into an ambush at the onset of the conflict and destroyed. Now with two orbital support cruisers providing long range scanning as well as drop ship hangars for reinforcements, it was only a matter of time before New Texas would succumb to the Peoples Federation of Mars.

“Yari one, this is Tsunami,” The Cruiser, out of sight and far above was named for the ancient earth sea storms of legend. “We are reading multiple possible contacts three kilometers east of your location. How copy?”

James had named his squad Yari, it meant spear, and was in honor of the ancient culture the squad’s War’bots were named from. He keyed his mic to acknowledge the cruiser and watched as his sensor officer refocused their sensors to the east. “I copy multiple contacts, east, three kilometers. Please advise quantity and disposition.”

The Tsunami was a proper Battle cruiser and unique in its ability to fully support ground operations. When the TriTek corporation had acquired the massive cruiser they had refit it with their own state of the art technology to support client states like the Peoples Federation of Mars.

It was only a moment before the cruiser’s operator responded. “We see approximately two squads worth closing on your position. Judging from the speed they appear to be light chassis War’bots, probably Destriers.”

“Roger, twelve Destriers closing.” James almost felt bad. He wondered if the Texan pilots even knew that his squad was here. It was possible they were making a deliberate assault but more likely that they were on the move and blindly stumbling into James’ smaller but none the less superior force.

“Attention, Yari squad,” James cleared his throat, “We have approximately twelve Destriers closing from the east, inside three kilometers. Presumed hostile. Acknowledge.”

His other five war’bot commanders acknowledged the information, but James hardly heard them. He was studying the terrain. He had not expected to fight a battle here. With steep canyon walls all around it would be difficult to maneuver the squad to simultaneously ambush the Texans.

The six Fujins that made up Yari squad were equipped as two separate teams of three. Alpha team, led by James, was configured for making a close assault and overpowering an enemy. Bravo team was a medium range support team, meant to cripple or harass the enemy from distance or cover while Alpha team closed for the kill.

James glanced at the sensor officer’s display screens again. There was still no sign of the enemy, but they'd be here soon. He decided his best bet was to get bravo team in a solid overwatch position on the ridge just ahead of them. There, equipped with Tulumbas, Hydras and Molot Ts, they would be able to pin down their unsuspecting adversary, while James led Alpha team close through the cover and concealment of the craggy terrain. Typically the Texan Destriers they had encountered were poorly armed and any weapons fire that the Fujins did receive from them was likely to be minimal and easily absorbed by their powerful energy shields.


“Yari one, Tsunami,” Their overwatch from the stars, interrupted James before he could relay his instructions to Bravo team, “Targets are maintaining course in your direction and approaching two kilometers.”

“Roger that, Tsunami, break” James cleared his throat again, as he often did when directing his squad. “Bravo team, this is Yari one, take up a support position along that ridge directly to our front,” James paused to target the ridge with his command designation system and a holographic white beacon appeared on the display screens of his squad as if it suddenly grew out of the ridge. “Alpha team, follow my lead into the low ground to close for an assault.”

“Yari one, Tsunami, be advised, Kyūdō squad is standing by for insertion.”

James smiled and almost laughed out loud. Kyūdō squad was assigned to Tsunami from the heavy Raijin company as a quick reaction force. They were jealous of the squads on the ground getting the high kill counts against the Texans and were always looking for an excuse to insert and steal some glory for themselves.

“I copy, Kyūdō is standing by,” was James’ only reply. Let them be jealous he thought.

James pushed forward on his control stick, and his ‘bot lumbered forward, approaching the canyon. Yari three and five followed him in a wedge formation, while Bravo team, lead by Yari two climbed the ridge James had indicated with his command beacon. As he descended the steep bank of the canyon a small white light on his console’s display turned blue indicating that the ridge had been occupied by bravo team.

A short burst of radio transmission from Yari two confirmed that fact. “Bravo team in
position.”

James did not bother to acknowledge his Bravo team leader. The canyon which extended to the east and toward the Texans, was only about six hundred meters wide at this point. If the Texans were lucky enough to realize that they were walking into an enemy squad they would have to descend into the canyon under withering fire from Bravo team in order to get close enough to use most of their light weapons, at which point they would run into the plasma fire of the assault team. If the Texans didn’t detect them at all, well then this would all be over very soon.

James’ sensor officer spoke up over the intercom as their Fujin slid down the last few meters of the bank to the canyon floor. “Sir, Ive got them on screen, multiple contacts due east, nine hundred meters. They've stopped on the far ridge.”

The sky above the canyon suddenly lit up with the bright sizzling multicolored lights of gekko laser fire. James, almost didn’t know what he was seeing for a moment. He checked his command console, but there was no damage to Alpha team. He swiped his data screen to the right to view the status of the support team back on the ridge. His stomach sank as he watched Yari six’s hull integrity plummet below fifty percent. “Get off that ridge!” He yelled over the radio, but it was too late.

By the time Yari six had disengaged from his defensive posture, with energy shields deployed a second volley of laser fire had sliced through its armor hull and ruptured its reactor. James watched in disbelief as Yari six status suddenly displayed the words “offline.”
The Fujin’s energy shields were worthless against energy weapons like the gekko laser, and worse in having the shield deployed Bravo team had immobilized themselves, becoming easy targets. Yari two and four had backed off of the ridge out of line of sight from the Texans, but their hulls were both in rough shape. Without their covering fire James’ assault team was vulnerable in crossing the canyon. Still he pressed on, as rapidly as possible. The Gekkos would lose their advantage when he closed the distance.

Reluctantly James keyed up his radio mic. “Tsunami, this is Yari one, deploy Kyūdō squad to my beacon for covering fire.” James was loathe to ask for help, but it was still better than taking unnecessary losses.

The Kyūdō squad’s Raijin was a heavier version of the Fujin and although it only boasted two heavy weapons mounts, instead of the Fujin’s three medium, it also utilized a heavy physical shield that would render the gekko all but useless. That and Kyūdō’s long range heavy plasma cannons would force the texans on the ridge to seek shelter or die where they stood.

James told himself that he just had to get close and pressed forward.


……………..

Across the canyon, Sam Colt, watched his ‘bot’s sensor display as the two surviving  enemy Fujins limped behind the ridge they had been perched on. There were three more in the low ground, but they were remaining out of sight, trying to close the distance. Sam rolled his cigar butt back and forth in his teeth and thought. Those three closing could be dangerous, but they weren’t here yet. The two beyond the ridge were still the direct threat, although just barely out of range to fire back at his two squads.

“Bandit Leader, this is Outlaw Actual, reposition your squad fifty meters east up the side of the ridge we just came over,” There was no point in exposing his light ‘bots to the Fujin’s mid range weapons when his boys could hit them from almost twice the distance. “And keep an eye on those three closing, would ya? If you get a chance to, make ‘em dance.” Sam added the last as if it were an afterthought, but he new exactly what he was doing. He hoped.

The light war’bots of Outlaw and Bandit squads were a new design, on an old chassis. This was their first action and they had a lot to prove. The hope of New Texas was riding on them and similar new designs. Times had been tough and conflict with the People’s Federation of Mars made them tougher. The Texans knew they were out gunned from before the conflict had begun. Resources were lean but some of their mechanics lead by Sam’s brother, Isaac, a gifted engineer, had designed a new configuration using about eighty five percent of the parts from antiquated destrier chassis they possessed and a few newly fabricated parts. They called it Jesse, after the legendary outlaw and gunfighter. Jesse maintained the speed and low profile of its predecessor, but added two movable weapon mounts that could be quickly rotated from a back up position into a firing position when needed. The result was a very versatile light ‘bot, able to carry two separate weapon load outs. In the case of Outlaw and Bandit squads that was long range, shield ignoring, Gekko lasers, and close range high arching Aphid rockets. Sam had requested the load outs. This combination of weapons provided the best of available long range capabilities and the ability to fire at close range from cover.

Sam was counting on the Fujins assuming his squads were armed with only the long range Gekkos and rushing to cover to close the distance. So far they had obliged. At close range the Fujins, likely armed with plasma weapons, would shred any light ‘bot in only one or two presses of a trigger. However, these Fujins weren't able to fire from behind cover like Sam’s Jesses could.

A few beams of laser fire pierced the red dusty air, converging on a Fujin in the Canyon. It was only exposed for a moment as it moved from one jagged boulder into a steep walled wadi, but it was enough for the Texans to harass it.

“Good work, boys,” Sam praised his pilots, “don’t make it easy on them.”

The short blast of laser fire had done little damage, save to make the Fujin glow in a few spots, but the phycological  affect on a crew of being targeted when unable to return fire was detrimental. It could make them stop paying attention to their surroundings, and make them frustrated and overly aggressive to get back at their tormentors.

Sam checked the range to the enemy in the canyon, four hundred fifty meters, it was almost time. He checked the two enemy on the far side of the canyon before committing. They hadn't taken the bait and remained in cover, but there was a glow in the sky above them. “Drop ship,” Sam said out loud, but only to himself. That will be something with range to counter our gekkos, he thought.

“Time to go,” Sam’s voice was urgent but calm over the radio, “Outlaws, stay with me. Bandit Squad, swing round to my right flank. Lets make this quick, they've got back up inbound.”

“On the move, switching to Phids,” was Bandit leaders reply. Phids, was slang for Aphids, and one of many unnecessary abbreviations Sam’s pilots liked to use.

Sam fired a quick laser burst into the leg of a Fujin as he crested the canyon’s edge, then punched down and held his weapons system’s rotation button. He saw the long square gekko frames spin up and around toward Jesse’s back while two cone like clusters of Aphid rockets swung up and from the sides of his display screens. His weapons light turned green again, and he scanned for a target as his ‘bot stabilized itself while sliding down the gravelly slope to the canyon’s floor.

The Fujins stopped for a moment, obviously surprised, but none of them committed to their positions by engaging shields. A choice that would have helped them. They expected laser fire, and their shields were useless against it. Certainly the prudent choice would be to maintain some maneuverability. They were just inside four hundred meters of the three plasma armed Fujins. Sam’s targeting system locked on to the nearest enemy.

Outlaw squad followed Sam across a short open space on the canyon floor and into a cluster of boulders that had broken away from the canyon’s wall. The three enemy were still in the wadi and unable to get a line of sight on the Texans. The Outlaws continued to close with the startled Fujins until arriving at the three hundred and fifty meter range they required.
“Give em hell,” was all Sam needed to say. Truthfully he didn’t need to say anything. His boys had been fighting a losing war for months and were eager to turn the tables.

The Aphids arched in spiraling rings of fire out over the boulders and almost directly down on the unprepared Fujins, stranded in the wadi. The twelve cones of death sent two of the enemy ‘bots crumpling into the red dust immediately, their crews, lucky to both successfully eject high into the air. Sam watched them ascend, past the suddenly braking dropship, as more fiery rings leapt into the wadi from bandit squad off to his right. A third crew compartment rocketed across Sam's screens and out of sight above. Lucky, Sam thought to himself.

“Bandit squad, green,” the Bandit leader let Sam know they had sustained no damage and were ready for instructions. The trap was sprung and now a quick follow up was essential.

Sam checked his squad’s status display. All green lights.

“Bandit leader, cross the canyon, use cover. Break. Outlaw six, hang back until that drop ship delivers, and get visual on what it brings. The rest of you with me.” Sam punched his control stick to the right, guiding his robot’s feet around the boulders, and hurried to follow behind Bandit squad. He would have bet a months pay that the new arrivals would be long range heavies, probably Raijins, but betting was something Sam did for fun, and not with his men's lives. Six would make sure they weren’t walking into the same trap that the Fujins had just died in.

Sprinting across the canyon floor behind Bandit squad, the Outlaws were out of sight before the drop ship was in position over the two remaining Fujins. Outlaw six, radioed in as the other eleven Texan ‘bots slipped into the shadow of the west side of the canyon, closing with their would be ambushers. “Outlaw leader, this is Outlaw Six, looks like six Jins,”slang for the TriTek quad’bots, “all with trebs.”

“Get to cover, and catch up, Six,” Sam had guessed right. There would be no more using the gekkos. Getting out in the open to take a shot with them would be useless as well as dangerous. The Trebuchets, or Trebs, mounted in pairs on a heavy Raijin would eat most light ‘bots alive in one blast, and had a range greater than the gekkos. Making a long range duel even less possible was the Raijin’s, thick forward armor plating. Gekkos wouldn’t even scratch it.

A cloud of dust and red sand rained down onto the Texans, churned up by the drop ship’s thrusters pushing against the above canyon ledge. It would pass in a moment, but it made navigating the craggy canyon floor difficult for the time being. An alarm sounded in Sam’s earpiece and then immediately ended. Some one was cycling through available targets up on the ridge above them. It was about to get interesting.

Through the dusty dim light Sam saw the pale glow of a rocket arcing up in the sky to come over the canyon’s edge and plummet in a twisting pattern toward Bandit squad ahead of him. “Incoming!” Sam hollered into his mic.

The first flare of a rocket was followed by another, and then another. A steady stream of rockets leapt up into the air and plunged down toward the Texans. The rockets were Hydras and avoiding them was not easy. The Texans were moving as tightly as they could up against boulders and cliff ledges, but the Hydra rockets dropped in from almost straight above. Many of them impacted on rocky overhangs and cliff ledges, but plenty found their mark, on the lead Bandit ‘bot. He took several hard hits before he made it to a large enough ledge to shelter beneath. Still rockets shrieked down, all around the Jesse, sending rock and debris flying out into the air. After a few more rockets, the rounds stopped. The gunner above, from one of the Fujins who had been on the ridge, could tell he wasn’t getting the hits he needed, and cycled through his targets, looking for one he could hurt.

The Hydra Fujin, and its only remaining squad member had already taken serious damage. They had both been smoking as their glowing hull’s had retreated after the first Fujin was destroyed. Sam’s targeting sensors showed the two enemies’ reactors at only about four hundred meters ahead of them and it was a little over one hundred meters to the canyon wall. Sam cycled his targets and found the two damaged Fujin. One of them had to be carrying the hydras, so they'd target them first, and deal with the Raijins later. Sam designated them “f1” and “f2” on his targeting computer.

“Bandit Leader, this is Outlaw, check your targets. Take f2 on the right, we’ll swing left and get 1.” Sam looked at the canyon wall, it was high, probably too high for the Aphids to arc over. “And look for some elevation, we’re going to have to fire over that ledge some how.”

“Moving,” Bandit leader replied, and his ‘bot’s sprinted off, between boulders and rocky spires and into the settling dust. More Hydra fire twisted toward them smashing into red rock and stone, spraying gravel in the air, and occasionally hammering against an armored hull. The Hydras were not a very powerful weapon and often only a nuisance, but they were accurate and if in a situation where you could not seek cover, or return fire they could be catastrophic.

“Outlaws, with me,” Sam pushed his ‘bot forward. “Target f1.”

The dust kicked up by the drop ship was almost clear now, as much as it ever was on Mars. Sam saw a hill rising near the canyon wall farther south. He pushed for it. Bandit squad must have found cover from the Hydras again, because the projectiles started impacting on the exposed Outlaw squad as they climbed the hill. Sam ignored the rounds for a moment, turning he checked the range to f1. It was three hundred eighty meters. Too far, but just barely. Sam headed back off the hill and to the shelter of the Canyon wall. The Hydras stopped. Their gunner above cycled targets again. Sam bit his soggy cigar butt, and it split in two. He spit out the pieces and wiped his tongue clean with a finger. Damn, he thought.

“Bandit, this is Outlaw,” Sam hoped the other squad was having better luck, “ Im having to move farther south to get a shot over the edge.”

“Roger that, Outlaw…. Engaging.”

Safe for a moment, Sam cycled his targeting to f2, Bandit squad’s target. Its shields were up, but they suddenly vanished and then its hull integrity dropped to nothing, before the target indicator shot up into the sky. Sam switched back to his own target.

“Good work bandit! Can you draw a bead on f1?” Sam hoped for an easy follow up.

“Negative, Outlaw, its moving south, your way. We are still taking hydra fire.” That meant the sole remaining Fujin, was equipped with the best means to target the Texans. At least the newly arrived Raijins had not brought their plasma belching Trebuchets to bear yet, but they would soon. The heavy quad’bots were slow, but a force to be reckoned with when they arrived.

Sam checked his range to target, it was getting closer to him. Closer to the hill. “Bandit, act like your moving into firing  range on it, I’ve almost got him. Break. Outlaws, back to the hill.”

The Jesses trotted up the hill and turned toward their target. It still crept toward them, fixated on the dangerous proximity of the other Texan squad. They locked on. Almost in range. The bandits clung to their wall farther north  and tried to get as close to f1 as they could, making it feel threatened. The outlaws fired  twelve  fiery circles of death. The aphids fire always amazed Sam. He'd been on the wrong end of it before, and it woke him at night in terror. Up on the canyons rim F1 disintegrated under the hateful volley. There was no sign of an ejection.

Normally Sam would have felt like celebrating, they had just eliminated an entire squad of very capable medium war’bots without a single casualty. Of course, normally Sam wouldn’t have charged into the low ground either. The Jesses were making him have to adjust his thinking. Those Raijins up above had the long range game locked down, and they were armored.

Sam weighed his options. Going back across the canyon was out. The Raijins would pick them off one by one. The same problem applied to trying to climb that hill again and use the Aphids. They'd be lucky to get one volley off before a wall of armored quad’bots melted the whole hill I into glass. They needed to find a way up this side of the canyon to maneuver around their adversary. The two Texan squads were already about eight hundred meters apart. They might as well stay split up and see if they couldn’t find two different routes up. Besides, Sam thought, they had surely gotten someone’s attention high above, for the drop ship to have arrived. He'd hate to give whoever was watching the chance to take out both of his squads with one orbital strike.

A spray of gravel suddenly scattered across Sam’s Jesse, leaving dust that obscured part of his optics view. He scrambled to check his targets, worried a Raijin had slid down into the Canyon. His heart pounded, but he was clear. Instead two of the Behemoths, stood almost directly above Outlaw squad. Daring them to try and use the hill as a firing position again. They'd have been fools to come down to the Canyon’s floor. Sam couldn’t take any longer, they had to move.

“With me Outlaws,” Sam punched his bot’s controls, swinging it around and headed south. “Stay tight to this wall, the Jins are watching.”

“Bandit leader, This is Outlaw actual, Im heading south. Take your squad north until you can find a safe way up, and Ill meet you up there.” Sam’s nature was to push the fight they had already started, but he new better. Right now the Raijins had the advantage, but if piloting a Jesse had taught him anything it was that he had options. The Raijin was slow, Jesse was fast. So he'd relocate and come at the tougher ‘bot on his terms.

But he did hate running from a fight. Sam tried to reassure himself that it was just being smart.
Jesse’s legs sped on carrying him over the red wasteland. Each step shook some of the debris on his optics loose.

“Outlaw Leader, this is Bandit Leader, Were working a route out now, about one click off of targets, how copy?” It had only been a few minutes, but the Bandits were making good progress.

“I copy, moving up, one click off target,” Sam replied, tugging on a cigar stuffed into a ring on his uniform’s sleeve. It was jammed into a special pocket that was meant to hold a series of syringes for emergency self administered first aid. Sam had discovered that the round elongated pockets were almost perfect for his cigars, if just a little tight, and promptly thrown away the syringes. He had Outlaw Two take the lead so he could enjoy his cigar.

Rotating his turret to the rear Sam checked the activity of the enemy on the ridge behind him. Doubtlessly, they had tried to maneuver for a shot on the departing light ‘bots, but the steep canyon wall would prevent that as long as the Texans stayed close to it. Sam puffed on his cigar and stopped for a moment, his squad passing around him. Judging from the distances on his Heads Up Display (HUD) it looked like the six Raijins were split into two groups of three, one moving North after the the Bandits and the other group heading south after Sam’s squad.

“We can work with that,” Sam said to himself.

It would have been tougher if the Raijins had stuck together, and focused on one squad. Perhaps they thought that the Texans were attempting to withdraw, and wanted a chance at taking them all out. Regardless, Sam still needed a way up the steep canyon ledge.

“Outlaw, this is Bandit,” Bandit leader sounded slightly distorted over the radio. They were almost three kilometers apart, and the irregular terrain was beggining to interfere with radio transmissions. “We are in position.”

Sam swung his turret back around and threw his drive controls forward. His squad was just ahead. They needed a way up before they moved too far from the Bandits and lost comms. “Roger that Bandit, we are working on it…” Was that a break in the canyon wall ahead? “Be advised it looks like the reds are splitting up.”

“Roger,” Bandit replied.

Outlaw Two stopped and then moved right, disappearing into the cliffs face. The other ‘bots followed Sam’s assistant squad leader. Sam caught up with them and was the last to leave the canyon floor. They were in what looked like a giant washed out ditch that rose as it moved away from the main canyon. Mars was peculiar. It had ice caps and these apparent washouts and wadis all across the planet, but relatively no water. However the ditch was formed, Sam was glad it was here. They moved quickly, heading west for about five hundred meters until they emerged into a haphazard and pitted collection of rock formations. It was this type of craggy and inhospitable terrain that had allowed the Texans to wage their guerrilla war.

They were over two kilometers from their objective now, but at least they were able to finally make an approach. The Outlaws moved quickly. At this distance there was no immediate threat from the Raijin’s Trebuchets, even if they had line of sight.

“Bandit Leader, this is Outlaw,” Sam held his cigar to speak clearly, “we are up and closing, from two clicks.”

The Jesse’s feet crunched on gravel and Sam was jostled in his seat as he moved rapidly over the rough ground. Bandit Leader didn’t respond.

Sam waited a moment before following up, “Bandit leader, how copy last?”

“BUSY!” Was the only reply, but Sam was still relieved.

He swiped his console to the right to check on Bandit squads status. They had taken a bit more damage, but were all still in the fight for now. Sam checked his range to the nearest targets. They were inside fifteen hundred meters. Bandit leader would communicate when he got the chance, but there was no good to come from waiting for him.

“Get small,” Sam transmitted to only the Outlaws. The last thing Bandit squad needed, was extra chatter to distract them. “We are approaching their weapons range.”

As if on cue, first one, and then a second and third Raijin broke across the skyline of a jagged toothlike ridge. The three quad’bots scanned the area, judging the terrain, hoping to set up a kill zone. Slowly, the three ‘bots spread out. If they could cover this area from different angles, they’d be more of a threat to the lightly equipped Texan’s who needed the cover of the terrain for protection.

“All right, Take your time.” Sam spoke reassuringly. Now was not the time to rush. He was excited as anyone would be, but he knew what they needed. They hadn't taken the long way around just to rush now. “Spread out and pick your routes, well. I’ll stay center.”

Sam’s pilots acknowledged his orders and dispersed, slipping into wadis, or into depressions and behind small ragged ridges. Sam watched them, trying to account for the routes they were taking, before choosing one himself. There was a fissure that ran mostly north and a little east, just deep enough for his ‘bot to hope for cover in. Sam eased forward, giving it a second look, and then accelerated. “Here we go again,” he muttered to himself around the cigar.

Following the rough fissure Sam closed to less than a thousand meters of the center Raijin. He could see it, just over the top of the Fissures edge, proudly sitting on it’s ridge. Its four powerful legs were firmly planted and its forward armor shield was deployed, like a giant grim mask. It scanned back and forth. The Trebuchets, with their long partially glowing guidance rods, twitched, as the gunner cycled targets, Hoping for one of the Texans to leave cover.

Sam’s fissure was narrowing and starting to grow more shallow. He stopped and looked for a new path. There was a forest like cluster of rocky spires farther ahead, but he'd have to traverse some open ground to get into the large red columns. Sam studied the Raijin, nearest him through his optics which just peaked above the fissure. The armored mask and its two spears of fire stared right back at him from nine hundred meters away. Sam’s warning alarm sounded, confirming what he already knew.

Sam waited. So did the Rajin’s gunner. He had Sam pinned and he knew it.

Sam keyed his Mic. “Outlaw units this is actual. Can anyone safely put fire on that center Raijin?”

“Outlaw actual, this is Three, standby,” Three was probably rotating his Jesse’s Gekkos back around front to the firing position. Sam had been so focused on using cover to get close he'd failed to see the prudence in switching his own lasers back. He rotated them now, while he waited, staring down the Rajin. “This is three, ready. On your Mark.”

“Roger, Three,” Sam replied.

He waited a moment longer, locking in the Raijin as his target. He'd at least throw a dual laser burst at it when he moved.

“Mark.”

A red laser beam appeared out of nowhere on Sam’s right, drilling into the side of the center Raijin, hitting where it was locked on to the quad’bots reactor. Instinctively the Raijin’s gunner turned, and drove a long bolt of plasma at Outlaw Three. Sam was on the move. With his chassis moving as fast as possible for the forest of spires Sam’s turret rotated enough to track the Raijin and he hammered it with both his Gekkos. It was a short distance to move and didn't take long, but the Raijin’s gunner managed to turn back to Sam quickly enough, and sent a solitary and brilliant bolt of plasma slamming into his ‘bot’s nose.

Sam lurched in his seat against the restraints. He could only see bright white and his panels sparked and smoked. But Sam kept moving, both hands holding his control sticks in a death grip. The Jesse rammed into something and Sam stopped, pulling his hands from the controls and rubbing his eyes, frantically. He squeezed them shut and opened them, rubbing his eyes hard and then squeezed them again. Finally he could see the gray shapes of his hands in front of his eyes. He squeezed them shut and opened them again and then waived his hands in front of his eyes to make sure that he could in fact still see. Blinking, he looked over his displays. He'd crashed right into the Martian rock forest.

Sam shook his head, trying to clear his vision better. Could he hear? The boom of impact from the plasma had sounded like being hit by lightning. He was out of line of sight for the Raijin he thought or he'd have been hit again by now.

“Outlaw Three, Status…” Sam hoped he hadn't gotten one of his guys hit as well, trying to be too clever.

“Three is green,” came the reply. Sam was glad to learn he could hear, and that Three who had briefly exposed himself to the Raijin’s overwatch, was still in one piece.

Sam realized the Raijin’s gunner must have been experienced. Instead of firing both of his hard hitting but slow to recharge heavy weapons at Outlaw Three, who had been ready and ducked behind cover, he had only fired one weapon to address the threat, and then brought the other one to bear, and fire on Sam, who he had been watching. It was smart shooting. Sam checked his systems.

Everything important was still functioning. A few data consoles were not displaying correctly but he could reroute there displays through other screens. The cockpit felt warm and smelled like smoke. A frantically flashing status display was telling him that the hull integrity was an estimated forty eight percent. Sam made a note to himself not to go out in the open again. His ‘bot would not survive another full powered hit from a single Trebuchet cannon, never mind a pair of them.

Sam had bit through his cigar again, and he spit out the pieces of tobacco that were stuck in his lip. Easing back on the controls, the war’bot moved back off the rock spire it had smashed into. Pieces of rock and dust fell away from were he had hit. Scanning left and right Sam found a narrow opening he could fit in between the rocks. It was hard to move around, almost like a maze, but Sam needed cover and carefully picked his way through the odd rock formations. Occasional glimpses let him see the Raijin, still six hundred fifty meters away, scanning back and forth. He saw it shoot once, the plasma bolts caused the rocks he was behind to suddenly cast dark, long shadows. He checked his squad’s status, but they were all in better shape than him.

He’d better check on the Bandits again, “Bandit, leader, this is Outlaw. Whats your status?”

Sam slid between two tight boulders and took a few more steps before there was a response. “Outlaw Leader, this is Bandit Leader, we are five out of six and yellow with three adversary down.”

Sam wondered who had been taken out of action in Bandit squad. He wouldn’t ask now of course, but he hoped they had ejected safely. “Roger, are you en route to my targets?”

“Affirmative, Outlaw.” Taking casualties had made both of them feel more tired. “Five hundred and closing.

Good Sam thought. They would over run the Raijins trying to pick off the Outlaws soon.

Passing through another tight fit of misshapen rock Sam could see out onto an open stretch at an angle to the north east. The HUD indicated where the Raijin was, to the north, but Sam could not see it to know if it was looking at him. He eased out from the rock slowly, just enough for one of his forward optics to pick up the Raijin and its ridge. Suddenly, the Raijin fired, but not at Sam. Outlaw Three was running between boulders just ahead of the open ground that Sam was watching, trying to close with the Raijin. The plasma beams impacted on a boulder though and threw out a flaming plume of magmatized Mars rock. The Far side of the boulder exploded into a thousand glowing embers and what remained, was a melting glowing mass of slag. Outlaw three didn’t bother to stop. The boulder wouldn’t protect him a second time. Instead he pushed to make it to the next one. Sam sped out into the open to catch up with Three. The Trebuchets were slow enough to recharge that he should be able to make it across the open space before the Raijin’s gunner could treat him like that melting boulder.

Sam had not seen the other two Raijins since before the squad split up, but now out in the open he could see them both moving back toward the center Raijin that he and Three wee trying to close with.
Both Raijins stayed low, on the back side of the ridge, but Sam could see the HUD indicating where their reactors were with a small red triangle. They moved slowly together until Sam realized what they were doing.

Sam slipped into a ditch after crossing the low ground and tried to put a boulder between him and the Raijin. The boulder was far off, at least two hundred meters and and Sam was at least twice as far to the Raijin. Outlaw Three was almost to the boulder. Sam was following right behind him. He watched Three’s Gekkos flip back behind the cockpit and saw the Aphids take their place in the firing position. Sam counted subconsciously, waiting for Threes targeting to lock on, and then the Aphids flew. They arced over the boulder and slammed into the giant forward shield of the Raijin guarding its ridge. As lethal as Aphids could be they still didn’t do much to that shield. The trick was to shoot them in an armored targets rear or side for maximum affect.

Sam rotated his own Aphids to the front and the targeting system automatically highlighted the nearest Raijin just as Outlaw Three’s system had done for him. Then Sam cycled his targets. The three remaining Raijins had backed themselves into a circle. The two on the other side of the ridge had moved to center, hoping to protect each other’s unarmored sides and rear. Sam’s system locked on and he sent the Aphids vaulting over Outlaw Three, the boulder, and the Raijin on the ridge into the rear of one of the two backed up to it and just out of sight.

“Target the far ones!” Sam didn’t keep the excitement from his voice as he addressed both squads.

Another swarm of Aphids vaulted from Sam’s right and over the hill, then another from his left. The Texans were converging. From beyond the boulder that Sam still charged toward another blinding lance of plasma energy hurtled into the rushing light ‘bots, but there was no time to see if it had hit its mark. From beyond the ridge a circle of Aphids appeared in the sky and then plummeted onto the Raijin still guarding the ridge. Outlaw Three fired again, this time sending his cluster over the ridge as well. An ejection pod shot into the sky. Sam’s Aphid system was reloaded and he fired at the remaining target beyond the hill. He switched to his Gekkos again, not waiting to reload or even see the impact of his Aphids, and leaving the boulder, drilled both beams into the defiant Raijin on the ridge.

He didn’t know it but he screamed. It was a curse. He hated his enemy. Who did they think they were? The Gekkos burned with all of Sam’s anger and rage into the thick soulless armored mask of the Raijin, Sam didn’t care if it was foolish. He would kill it with his shear will if he had to.

The Raijin looked down the ridge at Sam. Its two Trebuchets narrowing as the gunner locked onto him. Then the Aphids came from over the hill hitting the Raijin in the rear and sending the Trebuchets spinning and flinging into the air over Sam and Outlaw Three. Sam stopped. He cycled his targets but there were none.

Sam looked back up at the hill. The Raijin's mask like armor slammed to the ground and slowly slid toward him. It was face down and its actuators and servos were smoking.

Sam tore his last cigar out of his sleeve and bit onto it. His hands fumbled with the auto lighter, shaking as he tried to light it.

Sam leaned back in his seat, taking a deep breath. Nobody messed with Texas.

Saturday, October 8, 2016

VØX

Over the previous winter and spring I set out to write a story featuring the WR clan [VØX] and some of its most notable pilots. What I have chosen to share here is only an introduction to their story and an attempt to pay homage to their origin as a long standing clan within the game. Although I have written a great deal more than these approximate nine pages I hesitate to share more for two reasons. Most importantly the story beyond this event described needs fleshing out and polishing. Additionally, the direction it has gone, I've realized in hindsight, has a lot less to do with robots and a lot more to do with the "reality" I  imagine the game to exist in. Although I am happy to create a larger War Robots' universe as a fan, I question whether that is something others are interested in exploring as well. Is WR just giant robot fights to most of its players, or does it hint at a greater story for you as it does me?


VOICE OF DEATH


Douglas Vox watched the incoming barge cautiously circle his brother’s smoking drop ship as it lay exposed and unmoving in a crater near the heart of the ghost like city. He thought there must have been a park  there once, before the ash and debris of this wasteland. The bulky angular barge overhead was looking for a place to set down. It moved slowly, circling like a vulture. The barge looked cumbersome. It wasn’t intended for quick or even precise maneuvers like the drop ship below it.  After a few passes and Doug’s twin brother Daniel, waiving his arms from atop the drop ship’s hull, the barge’s pilot steered for a large open square not far from the crater, only a few collapsed buildings away. It was right where Doug had told Dan they would land.

The barge was responding to the drop ship’s distress beacon. Piles of  burning  trash stuffed  around the drop ship’s hull and Dan’s wave for, apparently asking for help did the job of convincing  whoever was on board the barge that the downed drop ship  in the crater would be an easy mark. Doug watched as the rusted landing gear of the barge slowly extended from the corners of its blocky rectangular hull. He heard the roar of the barge’s pulsating thrusters wind down to an idle  and the clang of its landing gear locking into place as his vision was obscured by the sudden wall of dust kicked up by the barge’s landing thrusters.

The dust settled, half covering the view screen of his powered down Cossack. Good, Doug thought  to  himself, let me look like just another piece of trash.  Hidden in the dark  recess of  the cavernous and decrepit garage Doug Vox  and his platoon, the Destroyers, watched the triangular prow of the barge drop  slowly, transforming into a large cargo ramp as wide as the barge itself.  The barge’s mouth groaned mournfully in protest and the vibrations of  its  agony set loose little pieces of debris that skipped down the decaying walls of the buildings around the square.

The platoon’s cossacks all had their reactors powered down so that they would not show up on whatever sensors the barges crew were using. It felt cold in the pilot’s compartment without the heat from the ‘bots reactor seeping through the compartments rear wall. The air tasted stale, musty and metallic. The Destroyers would wait to power up until the barges crew had committed to investigating the drop ship. Their task was to disable and secure the barge before helping Death’s Head platoon, hidden across the crater, finish off any other resistance.

In the meantime they could run their radios and sensors off of battery power. It was enough to give Daniel a description of what was coming his way. On his view screen Doug watched as red arrows popped up next to the one that he had already labeled as “ barge”. The heads up display, or HUD indicated that six other reactors had come online in the hold of the barge. Doug would label them with a description for Dan as they emerged from the barge’s ramp. The Cossacks that the Destroyers now used were once part of a Union mechanized light recon company so collecting target information and sharing it with Deaths Head platoon was a simple task for them.

Since the Union Navy had disintegrated Doug and Dan had tried to get by making salvage runs to Earth, but that had proved dangerous and it was difficult to find cargo worth the fuel that it took to land and take off. It had proven much easier to let others do the work of recovering material and then taking it from them. However, most anyone who had something worth taking was prone to put up a fight. Doug and Dan Vox had perfected the trick of luring in a stronger opponent by making them believe that the brothers were vulnerable and worth robbing.

The barge had received the Vox brothers distress signal, but wasn’t showing up to help. Some one in distress meant an opportunity to take cargo, or more, maybe a ship, or at least slaves. Of course some one with the means to take them would have something of value as well. Judging from the size of the barge that had just landed the Vox brothers and their crew would have a lot of loot to sort through in a few minutes.

A lone Cossack strutted down the barge’s ramp. It was battered and oil stained so badly that its green coat of paint looked black.  That was reasonable, Doug thought to himself, the barges crew were proving cautious by sending out a quick ‘bot to scout out the drop ship. He tagged the Cossack’s red arrow on his hud as “black cossack” and updated the network that both platoons shared for targeting data.

Doug was momentarily concerned that none of the other targets in the barge’s hull would leave until the Cossack had thoroughly looked around, giving their victims an opportunity to spot the trap. His fear was short lived. Three G.I. Patton medium war’bots sauntered down the ramp and turned directly toward what remained of an open roadway leading to the crater. The black Cossack sprinted ahead and leapt up on to the remains of a crumbling building. It stopped, turret scanning the area.

Meanwhile on the far side of the crater Daniel Vox sprinted away from the drop ship. He would have swore if he wasn’t so out of breath. He knew he had been in space to long. Running with gravity was harder than he remembered it being. He was sweating and the dust that blew across the waisted city stuck to his skin and the inside of his mouth, choking him as he panted, heart  pounding as he scrambled over the rubble at the edge of the crater. He threw himself over a shattered piece of concrete, exposed rebar tearing a gouge in his arm. He slid, ass and elbows, down the debris outside the craters edge. Dan felt relief at being beyond the crater, but didn’t let himself rest. His pilots were only about seventy five meters away.

Dan ran as hard as he could to the corner of the building that concealed his platoon. He made a weak attempt of brushing himself off as he stepped into the shadowy space between two large buildings, one partially collapsed and leaning on the other. The space between the buildings was just high enough for the Cossacks of Death’s Head platoon to walk underneath. Dan briefly caught his breath, hands on hips, before pulling himself up the the leg of his Cossack. His arm throbbed and he decided not to look and see how bad he was hurt. A few more moments and he was on his turret then through the hatch.

Dan grabbed his headset and through it on. “Death’s Head One, …in position,” he tried not to sound out of breath. “Destroyer One, what is your status?”

Dan reached up to pull his hatch shut and winced with pain. His arm was hurt bad. The hatch slammed shut.

“Death’s Head, this is Destroyer One, the last target is leaving now. I will advise when I have lost visual.”

Just another minute then, Dan thought. They needed to give the last of the enemy war’bots enough time to get far enough away from the barge so that they could not protect it when the shooting started.

Dan looked around his cockpit for something to try and stop the bleeding from his arm. An old jacket and roll of electrical tape were all he could find.

“Death’s Head two, this is One, are we good?” He should have sounded more confident he thought, but he needed to be sure that his pilots were ready. Death’s Head Two was responsible for making sure the ‘bots and their pilots were prepared to attack while Dan provided the decoy with the drop ship. He could have had one of his men do that unpleasant task, but he wasn’t about to ask them to do something he hadn’t done himself.

“We’re good” was the only reply needed.

Dan gave the jacket a quick shake and then through it on, falling backwards into his pilot’s seat. He flipped the HUD on and grabbed the electrical tape. Peeling the end of the tape free he studied the HUD while wrapping the tape tightly around his injured arm, trapping the coat to it. Doug, had done well for his part. The HUD displayed seven red  triangles indicating seven reactors. Dan ignored the one titled “barge” the destroyers would handle that. The other target tags gave him a rough idea of what he was facing. In addition to the enemy Cossack there were three Pattons, with various weapons, a Vityaz labeled “long vit” and last but certainly not least was a reactor labeled “boa ork.”

Dan knew that a Boa medium ‘bot equiped with a R40M Orkan rocket launcher could give them hell. They were best off using their maneuverability to avoid it until they had eliminated some of the other targets. He knew they could handle it, but it wasn’t going to be a walk in the park this time.

Back across the crater Doug watched the enemy Boa and Vityaz move out of sight on their way to loot the helpless looking drop ship. Doug held his breath for a moment then keyed his radio’s mic, “All units this is Destroyer One, we are going hot, time now, I say again all you units, engage.” He released the mic’s key on his control yolk and flipped the engine kill switch to the open position then flipped the ignition cover up and pressed down forcefully with his palm. The cockpit rattled and shook momentarily while the reactor spun up before settling into its familiar vibration. The HUD blinked off and then back on as the light ‘bot’s systems switched from battery power to draw from the reactor.

“Surprise,” Doug said under his breath.  His HUD began displaying the known friendly identifiers of He and Dan’s platoons. He knew their victims would be about ready to panic as they saw the unknown reactors power up in front of and behind them.

“Destroyer Three and Five on me. Two, Four, Six, cover us.” Doug  pushed forward on the yolk, its worn plastic cover was smooth and torn in some places. He felt for the familiar exposed metal under his index fingers as the Cossack lurched forward into a sprint out from the dark garage.

The six Cossacks of Destroyer platoon emerged from the garage like a pack of hungry hyenas. Doug and his squad made a mad dash for the barge like it was an injured water buffalo. Its cargo ramp still sat open, but wouldn’t for long. By now the barge’s crew would be realizing they were in a trap and would be trying frantically to close it, getting their armored hull between themselves and danger.

Clear of the garage roof Doug pressed down with his left thumb engaging the jump system. Suddenly he accelerated up and forward seeing the top of the barge and glancing a view of weapons fire off to his left before descending rapidly and settling hard into his seat then jolting against his harness as the Cossack’s bird like legs absorbed most of the impact. His two wingman followed, landing about two hundred meters from the barges ramp. He could see crew running around the deck inside frantically. A press of his right thumb sent a torrent of weapons fire from his twin linked side mounted medium Punisher. The two six barreled auto-cannon’s spun angrily as rounds tore through crew and cargo. Doug gently eased his steering  yolk left and right, rotating the turret to cover the large cargo bay. Destroyer Five joined in hosing the helpless crew with rounds that would rip them to shreds just by the shockwave created from rounds passing by them.

Small fires broke out on the deck and it soon filled with smoke. Nothing moved, but the reactor labeled “barge” still showed on the HUD. “Destroyer Three, give it one rocket and asses.”

A single rocket launched from Destroyer Three’s Yellow rimmed Orkan rocket pod, disappearing into the smokey bay. Even though they had just torn up the barges cargo area with punisher fire Doug wanted to minimize the destruction they caused to the ship. The more it was intact the more loot it could yield. Orkan rockets stood to do a lot of damage, but were the simplest means to disabling the barge’s reactor and preventing its escape. Another rocket vaulted into the smoke cloud and flared orange. The barge’s identifier suddenly disappeared from the HUD.

Off to Doug’s left his other three Cossacks crested the top of the same crumbling building the enemy’s black Cossack had first pirched on to observe the crater. Without hesitation they opened fire. Rockets and auto-cannons  poured down on the rear element of the would be raiders. As quickly as they had begun the three Cossacks leapt backwards toward the barge, still firing, and narrowly avoiding  a counter barrage of weapons fire from the Vityaz and stouter Boa.

From across the smoke hazed crater Daniel Vox observed the three Destroyer Cossacks appear and harass the enemy Boa and Vityaz, before disappearing again. The green lanky Vityaz and squat dome topped Boa weren’t visible from Dan’s position but the HUD indicated their positions behind the drop ship that had baited them in. From the look of it the Destroyer platoon Cossacks had given the Vityaz, equipped with long range weapons according to its HUD tag, a hell of a beating. That was prudent on Destroyer Two’s part. The Vityas was considerably maneuverable for a medium ‘bot and this one’s long range capabilities made it more of an immediate threat to the Cossacks than the Boa. Once it was dealt with the destroyers could take their time playing cat and mouse with the less maneuverable but dangerous at close range Boa.

Dan’s concern was the three G.I. Patton medium War’bots that sat closest to his platoon in the base of the crater. They had moved far enough into the crater before the ambush that they were between Dan’s platoon and the drop ship. They had immediately recognized the threat when Death’s Head platoon had powered up their reactors and began moving towards the Cossacks up the slope of the crater to engage. The Black Cossack was with them and jumped to Dan’s left, away from the Pattons and out of range, as the six Death’s Head Cossacks crested the crater rim. Just as the Cossacks appeared the Pattons unleashed a hellish barrage.

The G.I. Patton was a simply designed medium ‘bot first manufactured about two hundred years ago during Earth’s third world war. Its designers had not made it especially fast or maneuverable, like the Vityaz, nor was it particularly durable like the predictably rugged German designed Boa. The Patton excelled at one thing and that was firepower. Four light weapon mounts, two on each side, allowed a Patton to be equipped for a specific task with maximum efficiency. The ability to mount common inexpensive weapons in high quantity made the Patton a common choice for getting the job done, especially when the job was hammering the the ever living daylight out of an enemy.

Three Pattons were more than a match for six Cossacks and so as soon as they had come into range the Pilots of Deaths Head Platoon pulled back on their yolks and fired their jump drives, leaping clear of the wall of rockets and Punisher rounds that had been launched at them. The rockets shook the air, filling it with smoke and flying pieces of shrapnel, but missed the nimble Cossacks entirely. Only a few rounds from one of the Pattons, equipped with four six barreled punishers had struck any of the cossacks, and the damage was negligible. Two of the Pattons were equipped entirely with rockets and were now helpless while they reloaded. They were entirely dependent on the Punisher Patton and the Black Cossack for protection between rocket salvos. The Cossacks slammed into the ground outside the crater and immediately started manuevering back up its berm.

“Death’s Head Two, this is One, we will keep these busy. Take care of that Cossack,” Like his brother Dan wanted to exploit their maneuverability and the first step in doing that was making sure the enemy had none of his own. Death’s Head Two broke off leading his squad to pursue the Black Cossack among the hollow gutted and crumbling buildings. Dan and Death’s Head Three and Five would harass the three Pattons without fully committing to a fight, until the Black Cossack was destroyed and unable to limit their maneuvers.

The Rocket Pattons were still reloading as Dan pushed his Cossack just over the craters ridge and pressed his right thumb on the Punishers trigger, giving one of them a long burst of rounds before letting up and darting down out of sight. The Patton with Punishers fired as he slipped away, sending up a spray of dirt and debris. Along the crater’s edge, Death’s Head Three and Five, seeing that the only threat was preoccupied with their leader, leapt up and fired down into the crater then landed safely behind cover before the patton could change targets.

It was a hopeless fight for the barges pilots. Despite having more fire power and tougher chassis, they were outnumbered and paralyzed. The three Pattons seemed determined to defend the crater which they had occupied and the damaged Vityaz attempted to flee back to the barge, perhaps not realizing it had already been disabled. The Vityaz’s pilot broke out from the cover of a narrow alley heading straight back the way it had first approached. Traversing to face the three Cossacks that had ambushed them the pilot and his gunner appeared  unaware of three more between them and the barge. Doug almost felt sorry for them as they walked into range and he depressed the trigger. He sustained the burst even after the crew ejected, dumping a few more rounds to force his punisher to reload. He lead his wingmen, jumping over the pathetic looking green carcass, to help Destroyer two corner the Boa.

The squat Boa’s crew had better instincts than the Vityaz. The grey clunky looking ‘bot had backed into an alley  corner like an angry badger defending it’s den. It defiantly guarded the entrance, daring the destroyers to peek in. There was no way for them to engage the Boa without being well within its range and the narrow alley it had occupied made it impossible to distract by flanking. The Boa only had one direction to guard and its heavy top mounted cannon, an ECC Thunder, twitched back and forth slightly as the ‘bots gunner cycled targets, looking for a change in range, indicating who would come first.

Destroyer Three took the dare and eased up to the edge of the ally. He stopped short of exposing the Cossack and fired his Orkan rockets, but the angle was to tight and the explosive rounds detonated against the building’s corner. Three cut the burst short and stepped away from the entrance, before quickly reversing and jumping high across the ally’s entrance unleashing the rest of his rockets in a wild arc that sprayed the cramped space and Boa from one side to the other. The Cossack’s ruse had failed and the Boa returned fire, its own Orkan rockets missed Destroyer Three completely, but two quick bursts from the Thunder mangled the Cossack’s legs so badly that it was a wonder the ‘bot was able to land without collapsing.

The crippled Cossack landed out of sight of the ally and continued to limp farther away from the Boa’s lair. The ‘bot’s legs were leaking fluid and the right foot was half missing. It dragged part of its hydraulics behind it. Destroyer Two’s squad was positioning along the roof of one of the buildings adjacent to the ally, but a barrage of rockets from one of the pattons in the crater forced them to abandon their approach and rejoin Doug and the rest of the platoon out of sight from the craters bowl.

“Hold fast,” Doug thought quickly. He couldn’t risk one of his Cossacks making another pass like that.

“Destroyer Three, status,” Doug demanded.

“Legs at ten percent, jump is down, weapons green,” Destroyer Three’s condition was no surprise.

“Three, get to cover, the rest of you on me,” Doug turned his Cossack away from the ally and leapt farther to the right, down the rim of the crater. Ahead of him he saw the red HUD label, “Black Cossack” launch into the air and disappear from the midst of three Death’s Head blue arrows.

The Destroyers followed Doug along the crater’s rim except for Three who limped his Cossack toward the nearest building corner in the opposite direction. Doug hoped he would make it to cover before the Boa’s crew got bold. They completed their second jump and then turned toward the crater and climbed half way up the berm. He stopped and checked the HUD. His brother’s platoon was reorganizing on the other side.

“Death’s Head One, Destroyer One, we’re ready for an in and out, if you can keep there attention.” The Boa still had’nt moved.

“Four,” Doug had switched back to his platoon’s frequency. “move with us but hold your fire, I want you back out and on that Boa if it makes a move on three.” Both Doug’s and Dan’s platoons had two Orkan equipped Cossacks, each was numbered Three and Four, making one for each squad. With Destroyer Three out of the fight, that gave the Destroyers one good chance at that Boa. It would have been simple to throw everything they had at one of the Pattons and destroy it but if the Boa moved they would have nothing to counter quickly.

“Roger,” Destroyer Four replied, “Saving it for stumpy.”

Doug ignored the light hearted comment. He was glad that his pilots felt confident.

“Moving now,” Dan announced across the operation frequency. His Cossacks crested the berm and unleashed a barrage on the beleaguered Pattons, who obliged the provocation with their own counter fire.

Doug leapt immediately, almost floating above the craters ridge. In front of him the Death’s Head Cossacks leapt and swarmed about like locusts harassing three enraged  titans. All three Pattons had their backs to the Destroyers and Doug picked what looked like the weakest target. A patton, missing two of its four punishers and spraying rounds wildly at Dan’s platoon. The Patton crew was aggravated and unable to focus on one target at a time. Dan put a long burst into the smoking Patton while he waited the few seconds for his Jump drive to reset. With his Cossack’s legs already reversed he hit his jump button as the Patton’s reactor was pierced and its crew compartment ejected at an odd angle that sent it careening into the side of a building not far away.

Doug turned his turret to see the Boa emerge from its sanctuary. It’s crew knew that it was now or never and believing that the other Cossacks had abandoned Destroyer Three and committed to attacking the Pattons took the best opportunity it had to try and turn this fight into something winnable.

Destroyer Three was about twenty meters from the corner of a ruined concrete building when the Boa opened fire. Three had limped along with his turret reversed but it was no use. Before being ejected into the air like a rocket Destroyer Three had barely depressed the trigger and had only gotten off two rockets at the Boa. That was barely enough to dent a Boa, which was likely to withstand two full barrages from an Orkan rocket launcher, before suffering any critical damage.

Doug and the other Destroyers opened fire while still in the air. They were less accurate than if they had been stabilized by standing on the ground, but there was no time for accuracy when inside two hundred meters of an ECC Thunder. The Boa turned purposefully. Its gunner took but a moment to cycle targets and identify its biggest threat. Destroyer Four landed on a ledge near Doug as it exhausted its Salvo of Orkan rockets on the round topped squat Boa. That pounding was sure to have significantly damaged the Boa’s armor but it had also gotten the attention of its crew, who unloaded their Orkan at Destroyer Four as it landed.

The other Destroyers maintained their hose like spray of punisher rounds, but the Boa ignored them. The impact of the Orkan rockets and the shotgun like blast of the Thunder ripped Destroyer Four’s only weapon free, flinging the launcher through the air beyond the craters edge.

“Eject!” Doug bellowed in his mic, but he didn’t need to. Four punched out in the same moment that his Cossack’s  left leg was ripped out from underneath his cockpit.

The Boa crew was on a rampage and did not hesitate a moment, but continued firing at the next nearest Cossack. Doug, scrambled forward attempting to avoid the tidal wave of destruction being flung at him by jumping over the Boa. Still firing he arced forward, but the Boa’s gunner was good, really good.

Ignoring the sustained punisher fire from the other Destroyers the Boa’s gunner turned smoothly putting burst after burst of Thunder fire into Doug’s Cossack as it soared over head. He no longer fired rockets, knowing that they would miss. Instead he depleted the Thunder until Doug landed. A short barrage of Orkan fire followed.

Doug’s stomach tightened in a sudden agonizing knot. His legs were disabled, and his HUD disappeared, view screen cracking like a spiderweb. He let go of his control yolk and grabbed his harness grinding his teeth and closing his eyes involuntarily.

“Thunk,” went one more blast from the Thunder Heavy Cannon.

Doug heard the sound of screaming metal as his cossack was ripped to shreds and his body slammed into the seat that carried  him up and away from the fight. He couldn’t seem to see, hear, or even breath as the adrenaline coursed through his veins. He felt so heavy he was convinced he would fall through the bottom of the ejected pilot’s compartment. Fear gripped him, crushing him, then suddenly weightlessness, followed by the terror of plummeting back to earth. He vomited, choked on it and then vomited again. Finally after an eternity of seconds the pod’s parachute deployed and Doug felt like he was floating. Fear vanished and an utter disbelief that he was alive overtook him as he began to shake uncontrollably.

Before Doug’s ejection pod had deployed it’s chute Death’s Head platoon had dispatched the remaining rocket Pattons while they reloaded, helpless and vulnerable as newborn babes. The six Cossacks had joined the dwindling Destroyers on the crater’s edge and quickly executed the crippled yet defiant Boa.

Dan had forgotten the pain in his arm. He was missing half of a platoon including his brother. After giving quick guidance to Destroyer Two and Death’s Head Two to set up security. He contacted Raptor, Doug’s Drop ship, that was standing by, hidden outside the city for support.

“Raptor, this is Death’s Head One,” He was all business.

“Go for Raptor,” the Drop ship replied.

“Raptor, Death’s Head, I’ve got three MIA. Do you have a read?” If functioning properly each of the three Cossack’s ejection pods should have deployed a parachute and begun transmitting a location beacon upon commencing their decent. While it wasn’t too common, it was a very real possibility that one or both of these features would fail due to damage in combat or poor maintenance.

“Roger, Death’s Head, we are tracking three beacons and en route for recovery.” That was a relief. Dan allowed himself to breath a moment before transmitting again.

“Good copy, Raptor. Advise when complete and relocate to our location for follow up and recovery.” In addition to functioning as a recovery element for this operation the drop ship, Raptor also carried the crew for the Death’s head platoon’s drop ship Death Hawk, that had been staged in the crater to create a centerpiece for the Vox’s trap.

The crews of the two drop ships’ were joined by a large working party made up of crew members and residents of the Vox’s planet class cruiser, home and base of operations, Voice of Death. The antique, but heavily modified MK1 Transport Cruiser had formerly been named Union of Humanity Ship (UHS), Voice of Unity, when in service with the Union Navy. She had been assigned to a quick response force tasked to put down the riots that had plagued the now long abandoned and desolate, Union refugee and emigration districts on Earth. Her six modular bays had been configured as hangars each housing one drop-ship and a platoons worth of light War’bots. Twin brothers Dan, and Doug Vox, had been officers on Voice of Unity until they had assumed control of her during the aftermath of the Mars Rebel’s attack on Luna that effectively collapsed the Union Government. From then on survival of their crew became the Vox mission and over time they had become a legend, both feared and respected by ships and cities from Luna to Mercury.