Sunday, July 9, 2017

DASH Part I

The hangar was cold and dark. Isaac Colt worked alone. It was late. His regular staff had been released from their shift hours ago. Isaac hadn’t realized it yet but he'd forgotten to eat again. It was easy to do when he was focused on a task. Alone in the hangar, with only the silent titan sized war’bots for company the hours slipped away. There was always something to fix, or for Isaac, something to improve or a problem to solve. He didn’t have much interest in making repairs. That was for mechanics. Isaac was an engineer.

At least that is was his degree from the, now destroyed, Union Academy said. Isaac wondered some times, if the director of weapons development here in New Texas must have thought it read miracle worker. War made resources scarce and ingenuity became a necessity. New Texas had been at war with the Peoples Republic of Mars for almost a year. Long on the loosing end the Texans had finally turned the tide against their superior foe, but the fight was far from over.

The turning point had finally come when Isaac had proposed and developed a new war’bot chassis redesigned from the abundant supply New Texas had of antiquated Destrier chassis. The new light ’bot, called Jesse, had been just the cost affective and versatile design New Texas had needed to stay in the fight against an opponent who could easily outspend them. Isaac’s own brother, Sam, had believed in his brother’s design and lead the first two squads of Jesses into combat where they had performed well. As a result upscale medium and heavy versions of the ‘bot were put into production, and although few in number, had significantly aided in the conflict being fought over the mining region called Gordon’s Canyon.

So while Isaac was infinitely proud of his work in designing Jesse, his success had insured that he was now permanently assigned to weapons development. It was a task he enjoyed, but hated being forced to work on. Previously he had been a war’bot pilot and even a platoon leader. That was when he had designed Jesse and inadvertently sentenced himself to work in this hangar. Most days he would have much preferred to be behind the controls of a war’bot fighting along side his younger brother.

Fate had other plans for him he supposed. He took his work seriously whether or not it was what he wanted. He could save lives, and help his fellow Texans stand strong against a belligerent enemy. The latest project that had him up late and missing meals was  another repurposing project. Isaac had been asked to come up with a way to improve on the designs of some older ‘bots, many in need of repair, but as seemed to always be the case was essentially given nothing but scrap to work with.

Standing in silent formation for him in the Hangar was a row of five war’bots in various states of functionality. Essentially they were all prototypes, but he was only adding to each as he was inspired by the spare parts from other war’bot carcasses in heaps along the hangar walls. Many of those ruined ‘bots had been salvaged from battlefields and they emitted a burnt metallic smell that permeated the air in the hangar.

Directly before Isaac was a piecemeal Frankenstein of a war’bot. It had started life as a Carnage chassis. New Texas did not have any of the versatile and maneuverable medium ‘bots itself. This one had been used by The Peoples Republic of Mars forces, and defeated in battle. It had been stripped of its weapons and sent to Isaac for his repurposing project. When he received it, three and a half weeks ago, it was barely recognizable. The distinct upper chassis and crew compartment was obliterated. Its armor was split from front to rear and its radioactive fusion reactor was so full of holes that Isaac had immediately called for a hazardous material team to help remove it from the chassis. Isaac was glad for the parts and opportunities it did provide though. If it had been even close to functional it would have certainly been patched together and sent back to the front. With it in as bad shape as it was, at least he was able to use it for parts.

The Carnage’s legs and transmission were all in one piece along with the rest of the lower chassis. The carnage had a great drive system and Isaac new that he could build something useful around it. His first problem had been a power source. The Carnage was a fast maneuverable and some what heavy medium ‘bot. That meant that simply pulling the reactor from one of the Golems or Vityaz at his disposal would not provide the amount of power he needed. He had decided he would have to use an oversized reactor out of one of the few junked heavy war’bots in his hangar.

In the end it was easy to choose the reactor of a Griffin over the other options. The Griffin’s overdrive system that was used to power its jump thrusters could be modified to power the Carnage chassis’ boost system. The reactor and overdrive were big though and that presented Isaac with a new problem. The hardware he was using would easily take up too much space to fit inside any of the ‘bot turrets he had. The Boa came close but he would have had to remove the cockpit, an obvious problem, unless he wanted to make the ‘bot remotely operated. He could do that fairly easily of course, but New Texas, like most armed forces had a strict policy of weapons being directly controlled by a human. Hacking a control system and taking over enemy hardware was too simple and left too great a risk.

Isaac was left with only one option. He would have to build a new turret from scratch. He had started by placing his reactor and overdrive on a skeletal metal frame that extended behind the war’bot, leaving space for a future cockpit in the front. It was an unusual arrangement with the major components arranged more or less in a line from behind the pilot toward the rear of the turret. Most chassis were arranged to have their reactor and other equipment surrounding or next to the pilot, while others placed it below the crew to allow a better vantage point.

Isaac’s staff had performed early tests on it and the power from the Griffin’s reactor had been excessive. It was more than was needed, even after optimizing the carnages boost system to accelerate more quickly, into what Isaac and his staff had called a dash. That lead to the half finished ‘bot’s name. Dash could have been capable of more, but the Carnage’s drive system was not able to convert any more power into speed. Looking for beneficial uses of the excess power that the reactor produced lead to the idea of adding a shield generator to the ‘bot. The Carnage had one when it was intact but the battle damage it had received had destroyed its reactor. Since the shield generator on a carnage is built into the reactor for efficiency there was no chance of salvaging this one. The team sent in requests for an Ancile, but the Heavy shield generators were in high demand and short supply so the requests were denied. A lucky break came when more scrapped ‘bots were received at Isaac’s workshop.

Two or three times a week Isaac would get a call that some salvage from the battlefields had been picked through, by the combat company’s repair crews and that there were some chassis in such bad shape that no one wanted them. Isaac would send one of his guys down to the salvage ware house on the giant flatbed crawler they had for moving ‘bots and haul back the lifeless iron carcasses. This trip’s yield was especially ugly. There was some random armor plating, from a Natasha and Leo, one leg from a Griffin and a few other hardware systems that probably didn’t work. Just as beaten as the rest was the turret from a Fujin.

The Fujin was one of the quad legged war ‘bots produced by the TriTek corporation for The Peoples Republic of Mars. The medium ‘bot had a shield generator like the carnage, but it was separate from the reactor. The reactor and cockpit and even the fire control systems were completely destroyed in the Fujin, but the shield generator was intact. The Fujin was a capable ‘bot, but in Isaac’s opinion had one serious flaw. It’s power reactor was not strong enough to energize its shields and its drive system at the same time. This meant that a Fujin pilot had to divert power from his shields when he wanted to move or stop altogether to power up his ‘bot’s shields. In Isaac’s opinion and experience  having to choose one or the other was a bad decision to force on a pilot. With the heavy rated Griffin reactor Isaac and his crew were able to power the Fujin’s shied generator, now installed on Dash, full time.

With enthusiasm restored in the Dash ‘bot, Isaac’s crews worked hard building a frame for the turret out of the plentiful armor scrap around the hangar. Isaac chose to discard the two heavy weapons mounts that had belonged to the Carnage in favor of using the three medium mounts from the Fujin. Heavy weapons were powerful, but the ‘bot that they were assembling would be fast and capable of closing with the enemy. Heavy weapons would be too slow to reload in a close proximity fight. Finally, just two days ago, Isaac’s welders had finished the turret by cutting the crew compartment mounts out of a Rogatka that would never walk again, and implanting them into the armored nose of Dash. Then yesterday the Pilots compartment itself, contained within its ejection capsule had been inserted and wired in.

Isaac stood below Dash at a portable diagnostics terminal. Cables ran across the ground to an open port in the ‘bots armored leg. From the ground Isaac tested Dash’s functions. Bringing systems online and running them at various capacities to make sure there were no shorts or cooling problems. Everything was working fine. Of course it should be. Isaac had run the same tests late last night. This morning, he had notified his boss, Commander Davis, the head of weapons development, that he had a viable prototype ready to demonstrate. Davis, had responded positively, but then wanted to know if it could be ready for a demonstration in twenty four hours.

Isaac had informed him that it needed weapons and further testing. It turned out to be perfect timing for Isaac to get what he wanted. The Chief of defense was scheduled to receive a brief from Davis the following day, and Davis was expected to defend his program, and his job, with results. Isaac was his hope for gaining favor with the military’s top leaders. So when Davis pressed Isaac for a quick unplanned demo he said that he could do it if he could get three Taran plasma cannons  by mid day to be installed and tested before the following morning. To his pleasure the three weapons showed up two hours later on a hauler.

He and his crew got to work on them and were busy getting the third Taran installed when Davis had showed up unannounced. His neck was on the line the next day and he wanted to inspect the project that he had ignored up until this point.

A technician called the hangar to attention when he recognized Davis approaching through a side corridor with his small entourage of subbordinates. The commander waived a dismissive hand for everyone to just keep working. The hangar had been busy with activity, and now after a brief pause to show respect resumed its noisy business. Davis waived Isaac over and gazed up at the patchwork of armor plating that sat atop the green Carnage legs.

“So this is it?” Davis had asked waiving his hand at the Dash again, seemingly unimpressed and skeptical.

Isaac tried not to laugh. By this time tomorrow Davis would be taking credit for the ‘bot as if he had designed it himself.

“Is it ready?” He looked at Isaac this time, as if to say that he had better make him look good or else.

“She will be sir, after some diagnostics and calibrations. I can run those tonight.”

“Good, make sure it is ready for a live demonstration tomorrow. I’ve reserved range nine for you all day tomorrow. Get it,” he waived his hand unsure what to call it, “there as soon as its ready and let my office know. We will be over with the Chief of Defense.” Davis looked from Isaac to the ‘bot and back, then back again. “Its ugly isn't it? See if you can get some paint on it at least,” and just like that Davis started back toward the corridor he had entered by. His dutiful Entourage started with him.

Paint! Isaac thought. He was worried about paint. The old fart was lucky the Dash existed at all and he was worried about paint. He'd paint it alright.

So, while Isaac worked on the diagnostics he had his crew use painting sprayers to coat the Dash from top to bottom in a bright white paint. He had hoped for a ridiculous yellow or orange, but the best they could do was white. It was sure to grind Davis’s gears when he saw it.

Finally the work was done, and Isaac had set the hangars alarms as he'd left early in the morning. He would get a few hours sleep and then be back to load dash on the hauler to deliver her to range nine. He would pilot her himself, with his crew chief and friend Grant Parker. Grant knew how Dash was cobbled together almost as well as Isaac and if she needed hasty patches or repairs tomorrow, Isaac would want Grant in the cockpit with him.

That same morning, jus a few hours later, Isaac returned to the hangar, wiping the sleep from his eyes and tying to remember when the last meal he ate was. He was already in his crew suite and carried his old crew helmet with him. Painted on the side of his helmet was a snarling wolf head. He was fond of that symbol, form his old platoon.

Grant meant Isaac with a plastic tray of something hot that was supposed to be food, but missed the mark.
“I figured you'd probably forgotten to eat.” Grant said as a matter of fact.
Isaac wrinkled his nose at the questionable offering. “Can you blame me?” He asked turning his head away to avoid the smell.

“Hey,” Grant complained, “my sister made that.”

Isaac took the plate, and followed Grant to a bench where there were two mugs of steaming spiced tea waiting for them. “Thanks,” Isaac said sliding onto the bench holding the tray. He gulped down a big bite of a yellowish protein jello and chased it with the drink. No one else was in the hangar yet.

“I think this is going to go well today.” Isaac said, forgetting to eat. “I just wish Davis wouldn’t be there trying to take credit.”

Grant just nodded. It was a known fact that Davis was an opportunist and had climbed to his position by playing politics and using other people’s work.There wasn’t much to be done about it though, until someone important enough saw through the front.

They finished the meal and the tea and started their day. By the time the rest of the hangar’s staff showed up everything was set and Dash was waiting to be loaded. One of the hangar’s giant ceiling mounted cranes was used to lift Dash and center the ‘bot on the hauler’s wide and long bed. The giant tracked crawler moved slowly, but was the only way to transport the war’bot the short distance it needed to travel through the industrial labyrinth that surrounded New Texas.


The Heart of the city had been a colony under the now collapsed Union government, based on Luna, but since its independence New Texas had grown rapidly and with no coordination. The result was rings of tangled industry that surrounded the older planned out and printed districts. It was a short distance to the sprawling cities outskirts where the range was, but just that short of a trip in a war’bot was bound to cause accidental damage to buildings or other infrastructure.

The route they followed was flat. The colonies planners had selected the bed of a giant and ancient crater for New Texas. Its broad flat floor made for easy construction, and the crater’s mountainous rim protected New Texas from bad dust storms. The cities center rose from the middle of the crater as a cluster of hexagonal towers. The towers were identical at their bases and laid out in a symmetrical pattern. As they grew and dependent upon their purpose the towers changed. Some, especially a the center grew slowly narrower and the very tops of their spires reached elevations higher than the crater’s rims. Others stopped abruptly and a few were topped with giant dish shaped saucers to receive local shuttle traffic. The old towers were home to the wealthiest inhabitants of New Texas. They were connected by tunnel like bridges that crossed the empty space between towers. Inside those towers was a hive of efficiency. Private residences as well as businesses, factory's and public works had all been planned for by the designers. The growth of New Texas would have continued in an ever expanding pattern of those towers, but the robotic printing machines that built the city were deactivated by the Luna government during a political stand off with the briefly unified and non compliant Martian cities. The local government had failed to stop its citizens from commandeering the equipment that made up the printing system and when a work around was developed by other Martian cities to gain independent control of the printers New Texas had no printers to resume work.
The result was the labyrinth of uncoordinated industrial sprawl that encircled the city.

The Hauler approached the edge of that sprawl now, still a few kilometers away from the mountainous crater rim. A small structure with an attached shuttle pad sat by itself in the empty plain. Davis, would arrive their with his important guest and watch Dash go through the paces in the empty portion of the crater. Burn marks marked patches of packed dirt where heavy lifters landed to collect war’bot units departing for a mission.

This was range nine. From here looking back at the city it was hard to distinguish the individual towers. They looked like a grayish smudge streaking up the far side of the giant crater. There were over twelve million people in New Texas. Most of them had never left the city. Around the crater’s rim, situated on mountain peaks about a kilometer apart were massive control and defense towers. Under Union government control their had only been one. It had served as a traffic control point for the colony as well as assisted in relaying signals from on the ground to the satellites that orbited Mars. In the years since Texan and Martian independence though, it had been modified heavily to serve for defense purposes as well as its initial use.

That first tower was nearest range nine and it sat like a gray sentinel over the city. Its gray obelisk shape had black and white streaks up and down its sides from some aging affect of the atmosphere on the silicrete used in its printing. Dug into the red mountain slope beside it was the mouth to an underground hangar. There, safe from bombardment in the crater’s mountain stood squads of war’ bots ready to respond in the event the city was attacked. There was a fighter squadron stationed in one of the rim hangars as well, but Isaac was unsure which one. The fighters were not the best, but the six of them were the only true combat space craft New Texas had. As such they were moved around secretly to try and avoid an enemy strategically targeting them during an invasion.

The war with their competitors, the Peoples Republic of Mars, was not the first conflict New Texas had been involved with since their independence from Luna. The numerous martian states had struggled to establish a pecking order after their united fleet had succeeded in destroying Luna city. New Texas had not commanded the loyalty of any cruisers during that massive engagement and their lack of apparent standing afterward had not attracted any cruiser captains looking for a port to call home in the aftermath. New Rhineland, one of the largest cities on Mars had over fifty million residents and had sent seven dedicated war cruisers to the battle at Luna. Rhineland and other large city states like it, had quickly bought the loyalty or at least loyal service of any rouge captains looking for a sponsor after the dust settled and it was clear that the Union of Humanity was no more.

Many of those larger states were embroiled in their own conflicts or tense stand offs. That was a blessing and a curse. It was a blessing because it meant that one super power could not demand compliance from the smaller cities like New Texas. At the same time it was a curse, because there was no means by which to trust the other governments. The Peoples Republic of Mars and New Texas were left to their own devices. So the wealthier and larger city of the PRM was able to buy the services of the TriTek corporation in what for TriTek was supposed to be a profitable arrangement. Isaac and his brother Sam, along with many other Texans had done their best to ensure that TriTek lost enough that it would abandon the PRM and change the course of the ongoing conflict.

TriTek, and the PRM had three combat cruisers all together, and the greatest fear of New Texas leadership was that they would be used to try an siege the city itself. The sole cruiser of the PRM other than its collection of transport vessels, was an aged expeditionary cruiser, built originally by the Union Government for the various tasks of surveying and establishing colonies for the many refugees from Earth. That role had evolved into security and law enforcement of the remote Martian colonies as the flow of refugees from Earth had evaporated. The result was a versatile cruiser that could support any mission imaginable. Due to the age and numerous modifications of older vessels like the expeditionary cruisers it was impossible to predict exactly what its capabilities were based on its type alone. Like the PRM, TriTek and and New Texas also had numerous transport cruisers at their disposal. In the case of New Texas, some had been improved for combat duty, but they were not formidable enough to be pitted against dedicated combat cruisers. New Texas’ small fleet was put to use protecting the import of ice water from Ceres. The ice routes would be vulnerable to pirates if left undefended but were also too broad of a target for TriTek or the PRM to focus on. The armed Texan transport cruisers were sufficient enough to deter all but the most dedicated pirates and ensured  life in New Texas could be sustained.

TriTek’s two cruisers were  the game changers for New Texan strategists. Through ingenuity they had stood toe to toe with TriTek’s state of the art ‘bots, but the cruisers had no apparent counter. So the New Texans held their sole fighter squadron in reserve and ringed their crater with sentry towers as well as several anti orbital batteries, that if given the opportunity, could knock a cruiser out of low orbit. The two cruisers in question were another expeditionary cruiser, assumed to be much more updated than that of the PRM and a full battle cruiser. The battle cruiser of the TriTek corporation was aptly named Tsunami. The massive cruiser dwarfed all other vessels produced by the Union Government and was easily the match for several other combat vessels.

Isaac sat in the middle seat of the crawler and stared up at the red brown sky. They were close to the observation and control structure for range nine but there was no sign of Davis’ shuttle approaching the small landing pad. A message had sent to his office before they left in the slow hauler. He should have had plenty of time to be here by now.

Isaac tapped the operator’s arm, “here is good,” he said. He stood up in the cab and pulled his helmet on. He sealed the neck flaps tight and checked his suites air pressure. It was stable. Next to him Grant was donning his own helmet. He gave Isaac a thumbs up after checking that his own suite was sealed properly. Most ‘bots, except for the oldest, had life support systems on board. Dash had one as well, but the problem was being able to get in and out of the ‘bot as needed. Unless in a hangar the pilot would at some point need to leave the ‘bot and without a pressurized suite equipped with a rebreather he couldn’t do that.

“Head back to the hangar when we get here off,” Isaac directed the Crawler’s operator who nodded his understanding. The helmet muffled his voice slightly, but not enough to prevent the man from hearing. “Stay ready to come pick us up though.” The man nodded again. There was no telling how short or long this demonstration could be.

With that Isaac flipped up the foldable center seat he had been sitting on. The cabin was spaciaous and included a cramped but adequate living space in the back portion of the cab. Similar haulers were commonly used to make long treks to one of many mines or refineries and the operators in them might spend a week or even longer making the haul. That required considerable accommodations. Below the seat was the Haulers only entrance, a one mans aiir lock that lead to a ladder that protruded a short way below the vehicles frame. It was a short jump down to the red dirt.

Isaac walked a few meters away from the giant tracked vehicle. This one had seen better days. It was dented, rusted and generally just worn out. Its tracks were cobbled together to the point where it was hard to find two that whee made of the same color steel, indications production at the same time. Many of the track treads had different patterns. It was the state of things everywhere on Mars. Life itself, seemed to be cobble together, but some how it persisted.

Grant followed Isaac around the tired dusty tracks and to another ladder attached between two of the first track banks guide wheels. It was three meters to the top of the track, and then a less than elegant scramble to stand on the track and throw himself up onto the cargo bed. Isaac sat and extended a hand dow to Grant, saving him the hassle and risk of rolling off the edge of the vehicle. He pulled his friend and crew chief up beside him. Grant landed stomach first on the cargo deck and rolled over sighing. He sat up, brushing the red dust off of himself.

For a moment they just sat there. Feet dangling four meters off the martian ground. There was still no sign of Davis. Dust hung in the air, and a small whirlwind whipped it into a spiral across range nine. “I hope they do build a dome over this place,” Isaac said, waiving at the dreary scene spread across the giant crater.

“I don’t think that will happen, at least not as long as we are tied up fighting Jins,” Grant stood up and brushed himself off, then offered his dusty gloved hand to Isaac. Jins were slang for the unique four legged War’bots built by the TriTek corporation. Grant pulled Isaac to stand up and patted his shoulder.. “Look at what we have to do for war’bots.” He waived the same hand at the cobbled together Dash, who stood, tethered at its enormous feet, waiting to be freed. The bright white paint Isaac had ordered the ‘bot primed with was already covered in dust. The paint probably wasn’t fully cured, and the extent of his insolence would never be realized. Instead of white Dash was only a shade lighter than the reddish brown dust that swirled around them. She looked perfectly camouflaged.

Isaac sighed and walked toward the giant. ‘’You get the left side,” he said starting toward the right foot and ignoring Grant’s practical observation. Massive retractable cables anchored the ‘bots seven ton feet to the flat bed of the hauler. A small console protruding off the side of the crawler’s flat bed allowed the cables to be easily manipulated.

The dome Isaac had wished for was the dream of a minority group of visionaries in New Texas. Many deemed it impractical and pointless, but stopped short of saying it wasn’t possible. The practice of doming over, or containing geographic features to create livable atmospheres was not new on Mars. Many small craters and narrow canyons had been successfully contained and turned into green oasis for over a decade. Many of them had Quickly become the focal point of Martians who longed to live near something green, and the domes, as they were called often became focal points of new colonial cities. Isaac thought that not only could New Texas create a massive dome and self contained environment for itself, but that doing so would ensure their survival and propel them to a place of natural leadership amongst even the greatest Martian cities. Of course Grant was right. None of that mattered when the city had to piecemeal ‘bots together just to keep from losing a war. Instead of Dash perhaps they should have named the ‘bot spare parts, Isaac thought to himself, rather sourly, because that is what she was.

The wind swirled around Isaac and Grant as they secured the last of the cables. Outside of the crater the Horizon was more brown than usual, indicating a storm. That was of no concern though, there was only likely to be a slight increase in winds within the shelter of the Texan’s crater. Not enough to keep them from climbing the long series of narrow ladders up the leg and chassis of Dash. Isaac had nearly overlooked the necessity of ladders. As focused as he was at ensuring the bizarre combination of mechanical systems aligned and functioned as required he had overlooked that almost none of the salvaged parts had contained any access ladders and the parts that did have them, failed to align or come even close to the ground. Grant had pointed that out a week ago, and ensured that a consecutive column of steel rungs were welded up one leg and the chassis to the Rogatka’s cannibalized and now unrecognizable cockpit.

The Rogatka Cockpit was an old design and did not include an air lock like the hauler that had brought them out here. Once inside, Dash had to completely power up and begin generating atmosphere, venting the dusty martian air, before the two friends could take the breather mandibles out from their helmets. Isaac slid his visor back as well. Newer model ‘bots utilized an in helmet display, but the first generation Rogatka still used a screen projected heads up display, or HUD. The back of their helmets made contact with each of their seats data transfer pads and established a link for communications and voice command.

After a few minutes for the reactor to come safely online Dash was alive and her cockpit lit up with a soothing sea of blinking lights. A thorough run through of all systems showed everything as it should be. Isaac breathed a sigh of release. So far so good. He’d seen some random behavior form Frankenstein projects like this though, and he didn’t stop watching for an unexpected problem.

“You good?” He asked Grant through the intercom. The steady dull hum of the Griffin’s reactor was not loud enough to have drowned out his voice but the Rogatka’s cockpit was configured for a copilot to sit behind the pilot and so not able to see Grant’s face it was easier to just use the intercom linked through their helmets.

“I am green.” Was Grant’s response of affirmation.

“Alright, I have control,” and with that Isaac swung the turret around ninety degrees and simultaneously stepped to one side with the legs, clearing the side of the crawler’s bed and turning to face the lonely observation building of range nine. There was still no shuttle on the pad.

Dash’s suspension adjusted automatically for the relatively short drop to the crater floor. Behind them the giant crawler groaned painfully and swayed left and right under the massive weight shift. Isaac keyed his radio up on his hangar crews designated short rang network. “Crawler we are clear.”

“Roger, departing.” Was the operators simple reply as the crawler slowly started a broad turn that would allow it to creep back toward the city. Its massive treads flattened rocks and churned up red dry dirt as it turned leaving a clear trail that would be hidden by wind and dust in only a few days.

Isaac activated the targeting display, wondering if he could spot Davis’ shuttle. Turning toward the city a cluster of tiny yellow dots came into view on the cockpit’s HUD. Each of those triangles was a reactor signal, but they should all be displaying blue. He checked Dash’s network status. He should have been tied into the cities system for identification. He had set it up two days ago, received authorization and a network ID for the new ‘bot and tested it twice, but now there was no connection.

“Seems like we lost our network link, see if you can get it back up.” Grant was already working on it before Isaac finished speaking.

“We shouldn’t have lost it,” Grant thought out loud, “it might be a bad auxiliary battery.”
That made sense Isaac thought. Without a powered auxiliary battery a ‘bot would lose all of its saved data and other preset configurations a crew had established. They had tested the battery of course, but it was possible it passed the test while not actually holding a charge. The ‘bot had been attached to the hangars powers supply when the tests were run and that may have tricked the test.

“Im reconnecting now,” Grant reassured, “It wont be a problem now that we are under reactor power, but once we shut down we will lose connection again I think.” It was aggravation but trivial. If that was the worst that went wrong it would still be a good run.

Yellow triangles, indicating unknown vehicles, started turning blue as the network link enabled Dash’s targeting system to identify friendly vehicles in the distance as they swarmed across the city. Names, or at least identification numbers were displayed next to each triangle as they turned blue. Larger triangles indicated closer objects, but nothing stood out as being in their general vicinity. Where was Davis?

Isaac moved his hand slowly on the Dash’s leg controls as he started them toward the landing platform and observation tower. He keyed his mic, “Alpha control this is Dash, over.” Alpha was the designation of Isaacs hangar and team of mechanics and tinkerers. He hoped some one would hear his transmission and that the whole crew weren’t goofing off while the boss was gone. They had no particular reason to monitor radio traffic, but it should have been secondary for most of them, having had radio awareness drilled into their heads through various roles in the military. There was no answer. “Any unit on this net, this is Alph Actual, over.” Isaac pronounced his formal call sign slow and deliberately. As the Alpha project’s direct supervisor his call sign was alpha actual but he had the habit of using the name of whichever prototype he was testing when in the cockpit. Hopefully hearing his formal call sign would get some one’s attention.

A few moments passed and Isaac sighed, annoyed. He was about to repeat his message, when the radio keyed up from another source. “Alpha Actual, this is Alpha Base, go ahead.” Isaac thought he heard some one laughing in the background, but he ignored it. He had some ones attention now and that was all that really mattered.

“Alpha, this is Dash,” Isaac paused to form his next statement before continuing. “Have you received and communications from Commander Davis since I departed.”

“Roger, Dash,” the voice replied, Isaac thought it was Grant’s younger brother, Shawn, but there was enough distortion to be uncertain. “His staff asked if you had left for range nine, over.”

“What time was that?, over,” Isaac wasn’t surprised that Davis had double checked to make sure he was in place. God forbid Davis have to wait on anybody.

“Ahh, approximately fifteen minutes ago.” That was definitely Shawn, Isaac thought.

“Roger. Dash out.” Isaac wondered how long it would take Davis to actually arrive. That was of course assuming that he was still showing up. It would probably be about a half hour shuttle flight from his headquarters, so if they left right after the inquiry than they could be hear in as little as fifteen minutes.

Of course it could be longer. It was almost midday and if Davis decided on a meal for his VIPs before coming to the range then Isaac and Grant could be out here all day long.

Isaac brought Dash up next to the observation tower. It was just a little taller than the war’bot. He let go of the controls and Dash stopped. He leaned back in his seat and watched the darkening stormy skyline beyond the crater’s rim.

“Might as well take a nap,” Isaac sighed into the intercom.

Grant laughed, “you don’t have to tell me twice!”

It had been an early morning, and when there was no work to do, then a nap was a good use of time. Isaac and his crew worked six or seven days a week and their hours were as needed, which met they were basically working on one project or another as long as they were awake. When the war was over, he would take a long vacation, he promised himself, and closed his eyes. He wouldn’t sleep, he'd let Grant do that, but he could at least rest his eyelids a moment.

……………

“Inbound!” Grant exclaimed across the intercom.

Isaac snapped his eyes open and head back. Had he fallen asleep?

The sky was darker now, as Isaac scanned the HUD for the commander’s shuttle.

“It looks likes they are circling around,” Grant explained when Isaac couldn’t see them.

A blue triangle larger than the others on the HUD and at the edge of Dash’s view screen, indicated the close proximity of a vessel, registered on the city’s database approaching from their right and decreasing its elevation. Moments later Commander Davis’s red and gray shuttle came into view as it slowed and settled on the observation building’s landing pad. The shuttle was a broad crescent shape with maneuvering thrusters at the crescent’s tips. A thick thruster bank at its rear plainly displayed its ability to move fast and a pair of ball turrets with their twin mounted auto-cannons sat on opposite sides of its cockpit, which protruded forward from the center of the crescent’s concave shape. The shuttle was smaller than the drop ships used to transport war’bots. Its purpose was primarily for carrying passengers, although it had room for limited cargo, but not even anything as small as a light war’bot.

After slowly descending the Shuttle settled into place on the pad. Its landing and maneuvering thrusters kicked up a cloud of reddish brown dust as its pilot carefully eased the vessel down and then throttled back on the thrusters allowing the dust to dissipate. A few moments later the observation towers retractable docking tube began to slowly move out to attach to the shuttles circular side door. With no personnel  stationed at the lonely outpost the shuttle’s crew had to remotely attach it. In a few minutes those on board would be able to safely walk to the tower and take an elevator up to its broad glass windowed observation deck.

Grant sighed into the intercom. Isaac knew how his friend felt. They were exhausted and Davis was a pain to deal with on a good day.
“I know buddy.” He rubbed his eyes. He must have fallen asleep after all. “Hopefully they wont want to receive a full brief after.”

“Right,” Grant agreed, but they both knew that Dash was a formidable ‘bot and that Davis would be to eager to show his superiors more if they were interested.

As Isaac and Grant watched, something strange happened. The docking tube, half way extended stopped. Then it began to retract, but only for a moment before stopping abruptly again. Suddenly, the shuttle’s stabilizing thrusters fired, lifting it less than a meter off of the landing pad and stirring up another dust cloud. Before it had gained much altitude the shuttle’s nose tipped up into the darkening red sky and its pilot fired its primary thrusters launching the shuttle up and forward and kicking an even bigger plume of red dust back at Grant and Isaac who sat, confused in Dash’s cockpit.

Isaac was about to key his intercom and ask Grant what just happened. He stopped, and just stared in disbelief instead, as bright red beams of laser weapon’s fire stretched across out from the horizon and burned into the thrusters of the fleeing shuttle. It seemed like eternity before he looked away, but finally Isaac realized they were under attack. Looking at the HUD he didn’t see any red triangles, which would have indicated a threat. A few unidentified yellow markers were in the mix of the usual blue traffic but that was to be expected. When a vehicle fell out of sync with the identification network or was not current for some reason it would show up as yellow. There were always a few vehicles tagged in yellow in New Texas’s busy traffic patterns.

Commander Davis’s shuttle attempted to maneuver, but it was still accelerating and not moving fast enough to avoid the successive laser shots. Isaac swung Dash’s chassis around towards the source of laser fire. Whatever it was, it was still out of sight, apparently in the air beyond the crater’s ridge. Grant was bringing the Dash’s weapons up to a full charge. The three powerful Taran plasma cannons were a rare commodity. Salvaged off of TriTek war’bots the Texans had defeated, the state of the art weapons were a great addition to the arsenal of any Texan war’bot company.

Both Isaac and Grant were glad to have the Tarans now as they wondered what was happening. Finally a pair of yellow triangles appeared on the HUD over the canyon rim. More laser fire deliberately ate away at the shuttles frame, thrusters and armor. Isaac doubted the commander’s crew had even bothered to prepare their weapons. They would have thought that transporting some officers to a simple ‘bot demonstration would be safe. New Texas was relatively far from where the fighting had been worst and had never been directly attacked during the conflict with the PRM and TriTek.

All that had changed now, as something ruptured in the side of the Cresent shaped shuttle. Grant painted the two unidentified contacts on the HUD red, instantly alerting anyone else using the network that two hostile vehicles were closing with the city. The objects were closing fast.”

“Fighters,” Isaac exclaimed, as the now red bracketed targets sped into visual range. The long slender bodies with four symmetrically placed foils were called Darts. The pair of Dart fighters stayed close as they sped a few hundred meters above the crater floor burning a final round of laser fire into the shuttle as its maneuvering thrusters failed and it spun out of control, arcing toward the ground.

The doomed shuttle left a black arc of smoke in its wake, before impacting anticlimactically into the flat dusty ground of range nine. There was no fire or explosion, but the impact sent dust and gravel spraying out in a fan pattern followed by small pieces of the shuttle’s devastated hull. There was no way to know if anyone had survived the crash. It was possible, if their life support systems were intact and if they weren’t killed by the impact, but not very likely.

Pushing shock and disbelief from his mind, Isaac looked up as the two Dart’s tore through the sky, slicing through the dead shuttles trail of smoke and turned, apparently circling the landing platform. They were about eight hundred meters away and making a circle with Dash and the platform at its center. The Taran’s for all of their good qualities were a short range weapon and unless those fighters decided to come in dangerously close to them Isaac and Grant had no way of fighting back against them.

So Isaac did the only thing he could think to. Pulling back on Dash’s control sticks he pivoted the big war’bot on its right foot and backed up against the observation tower. He pulled back until he felt the ‘bots chasis bump into the tower and then reached up and flipped the emergency shut down switch’s cover to open and immediately pulled the switch to the kill position, shutting down Dash’s reactor.

Isaac and Grant rocked forward and back again in their seats in the suddenly darkened and swaying cockpit. After a moment Isaac reached up, and flipped another switch, activating Dash’s emergency power system. Running off of emergency batteries meant that they weren't able to move Dash or fire weapons, but it also meant that in a few moments, once the ‘bot’s reactor had cooled sufficiently, they would be invisible to their attacker’s targeting systems. It was possible that they could still be spotted with natural vision but that was unlikely given the enemy Darts’ elevation and speed. Even if they were seen, targeting the powered down Dash would be difficult for the pilots to do manually. With any luck though, the enemy pilots would assume that any signal they had briefly seen on their HUDs was just a reading from the outpost at range nine.

Grant and Isaac watched as Dash’s HUD fired back up populating their view screen with yellow arrows.

It was Isaac’s turn to sigh. He had forgotten about the bad auxiliary battery causing the network sync to be lost. “Can you fix that again?” He asked Grant through the intercom.

“On it,” grant replied. “I guess its better to have to do this than have the emergency battery out.”

Grant was right. It would only take a few minutes to update and synchronize Dash’s identification and targeting system again. If the emergency battery had been bad instead of the auxiliary one, than they would not have had any systems available until they restarted the easily spotted reactor.

Isaac watched the view screen as he waited. The two enemy fighters passed directly in front of them as they completed their circular maneuver around the outpost. Beyond them Isaac could see the city of New Texas and barely make out the far edge of the city’s crater. He wondered what was going on, and tried the radio. The only station programmed into Dash was their own workshops network though, and no one answered.

“This must be a large scale attack,” Isaac thought out loud.

Grant didn’t respond while he continued to work.

“There is no way PRM or TriTek would send a pair of fighters this deep into our territory by themselves. Something bigger has to be going on.” Isaac tried the radio again, but there was still no answer. He wanted to be angry with his crew back in the city, but was also worried for their safety.

“They’re probably desperate to try and finish this fight.” Grant added as he finished re-establishing Dash’s data link with the city’s network.

Grant was probably right. Since the New Texans had managed to turn the tide of war from certain defeat to a drawn out and expensive stalemate both The People’s Republic of Mars and their corporate allies had shown signs of frustration.

For the PRM their conflict was about resources and planetary standing. They had thought to overwhelm and absorb their smaller neighbor, firmly establishing themselves as one of the dominant world powers on Mars. Instead they had become mired in a protracted conflict with an obviously weaker enemy and were losing influence and credibility each day the conflict remained unresolved.

For the TriTek corporation the conflict was only a matter of profit. The PRM had assured TriTek, one of Mars’ major technology developers and manufacturers that, with their material support, New Texas could be quickly brushed aside. In return for their help TriTek was promised Sole access to PRM mined metals at low prices. TriTek had now invested three times the initial amount of money PRM had told them would be necessary and also had a rising death toll.

Unknown to Isaac and Grant, TriTek had given PRM an ultimatum to end the war succesfully, or they would withdraw their support, cut their losses and allow the PRM to possibly lose in a fight that they had felt could be easily one. Without TriTek’s support of Fujin and Raijin combat companies and the integration of TriTek plasma weapons on the older and more common PRM war’bot forces New Texas would easily leverage its new found momentum to achieve victory against its larger and wealthier neighbor. So in a bold, some would say desperate, move to achieve complete victory the PRM military leaders organized a large scale invasion of the city of New Texas.

Isaac thought about their situation and tried to predict what he should expect. More fighters appeared in formation across the crater that harbored New Texas. They were barely visible and he gave up trying to identify them without the assistance of the HUD which was just starting to update again.

As the first ID indicators synced with the cities identification tracker, a giant bolt of yellow plasma lanced upward from a defense battery imbedded in the canyon’s rim. The dazzling bright light seared a pattern into Isaac’s. He raised a hand reflexively but to late, as a follow on barrage plasma fire flashed across the rust colored Martian sky at targets so far above that even Dash’s targeting system did not register any signals.

Isaac blinked as his eyes recovered. The HUD was updated again, and he tried to gain some insight about what was happening by studying the chaotic traffic displayed over his view screen. A formation of blue dots raced across the canyon’s far edge towards explosions that seemed haphazardly scattered around one of the batteries that had just fired up into the void above.

Grant pointed out what was happening at the same time Isaac recognized what was taking place. “They are trying to clear out enough defense batteries to insert ground forces.”

New Texas’ orbital defense batteries were powerful cannons, that would deter prudent cruiser captains and slower ships like shuttles, barges and even the slightly more agile drop ships used to insert War’bot platoons. Fighters were not significantly vulnerable to the batteries though, and if uninterrupted would be able to at least disable them so that other ships could insert ground forces.

“That volley must have been at a cruiser.” Isaac thought out loud, “They were drawing fire so their squadrons could locate the batteries before committing drop ships.” It made sense, a sturdy cruiser could take a lot of punishment, certainly more than a single volley from the Texan’s Cannons. It was most likely moving to a safe distance now that its fighters would be able to pinpoint locations.

Isaac and Grant watched as the city’s only squadron overtook a pair of unsuspecting enemy darts and snuffed them out. Their two small red triangles suddenly disappeared from the HUD. Other isolated pairs of red highlighted fighters scattered away from the hunting pack along the far edge of the crater’s ridge. The success of the Texan fighters was short lived. In just moments, triangular  red indicators on the Dash’s HUD relayed the enemy fighter’s reorganizing and reserve squadrons seemed to join the fray, descending from above. Isaac considered what he and Grant should do, while watching, helpless, as the Texan fighters disappeared, from the view screen display, one after another.

Isaac’s heart sank. Drop ships would arrive as soon as the enemy fighters stopped the New Texas’ orbital defense cannons. He knew that the wide opened space of the range they were stranded in the middle of would certainly be an insertion point of the city’s attackers. New Texas would have to make its stand on the ground, and Isaac and Grant were stuck in the middle of the killing grounds.

“Think we can make it back to the city before they land?” Isaac asked Grant, hoping that his friend would see a possibility where he didn’t. In the city, they would be able to coordinate with friendly forces and use the urban terrain to their advantage.

“Not a chance,”Grant grimly replied, “Even if they didn’t pick us off from above, our people wont recognize this rig, and are just as likely to zap us as the, damn Reds.”

Isaac made two fists and pressed them together in front of his chest, thinking. He squeezed his eyes shut, focusing, trying to look for a solution, but there wasn’t one. They’d have to stay, that’s all there was to it. Once the enemy had started to insert they could at least respond to their location, and with any luck, hide long enough to fight their way to maneuvering friendly platoon.

“At least with them on the ground we can be in the fight,” Isaac didn’t need to tell Grant how one sided a fight that would likely be.


Along the ridge smoke started to rise from the sites of the defense cannons. Two, where the fighters had been wiped out, were already omitting thick columns of black smoke, that rose up to trail off into the Martian wind. A sudden flash of light from behind them, past the ranges observation building preceded a loud explosion. The two friends wouldn't have to wait long.

Suddenly a radio keyed up on their network. “Grant, Isaac, do you hear me?” It was Adeline, Grant’s twin sister.

Isaac scrambled to key his mic before Grant responded. “We copy, whats your status?”

Grant translated to plain English for his sister, “We’re okay, what is going on in the city?”

“They’ve activated the siege shield and..” the transmission cut out as she released the mic’s button, “… all personnel to the nearest perimeter stations. Where are you?”

“Range nine,” Isaac said flatly, “we need you to let someone know that we are out here.”

“Someone who can do something useful,” Grant added.

“’Oh, okay…” her concern was obvious, “I’ll call Sean, and Sam.”

Grant and Isaac’s younger brothers. Both were skilled ‘bot pilots, and absolute fearless. Their adventures in Gordon’s canyon over the preceding months had turned a loosing fight into one that there was at least hope for.

“Then, get some where safe!” Grant exclaimed.

There was no response though, she had already gone. The HUD displayed new red triangles overhead. Smoke from the ruined cannons wreathed the crater’s rim like one of the mythical volcanoes of Earth. They were coming.

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.