As the barrels of the massive guns cooled, Lieutenant Tania Krislee surveyed the valley floor. Eight vehicles, six tanks and two support trucks, were smoking ruins. The unit had been trying to flank the main line of the 15th LMC assault force.
Nestled in the cockpit of her fifty-ton monster, Krislee smiled.
“Congratulations, Lieutenant. Once again, you’ve proven that our armed forces wasted their money on my training.”
“Not to mention that sergeant’s pay you’re pulling, Kit.”
Sergeant Kitame Hoyu, perched on the side of the valley in her own mech.
Krislee’s smile grew wider. Kit was right: She never did get to have much fun.
The enemy had poured into this tiny valley, and Krislee had met them. Everything in this valley was within range of the heavy particle cannons, and there was very little that didn’t slough into molten slag when given their attention.
Four particle cannons, on dual mounts. Two cannons on either side of, and just under, her cockpit. A very heavily shielded cockpit, hardened against the EM pulses that came with every discharge of her four beauties.
Even with the shielding, though, she could smell the tang of ozone and overheated alloys. Maybe it was all in her head. Either way, she enjoyed it.
“Lieutenant Krislee. Status.”
Major Ansen. Always when she was most enjoying herself.
“Status green, Major. Yet again, your attempt to kill me has failed.”
There was a snort from her headphone. “Good job. Any survivors?”
She scanned the burning piles of twisted “No, not really. I left some trees this time, though.”
Ansen snorted again, and then was immediately back into commander mode. “Continue to hold that valley, Sergeant. We’ve got updated intel.”
Far overhead, the three Centurion-class assault cruisers of the 15th Light Mechanized Calvary were orbiting the planet: Actium, Dominant, and Vanquish. With radar useless down on the planet, the troops were relying on optical scans from the orbiting cruisers.
“How’s the Vanq?” The Vanquish was her ship.
“She’s still in one piece. Bloodied, though. She took a couple of solid hits to her forward dropship bays, so she’s in a higher orbit than Act and Dom. Dom is relaying this; you’re on your own until Act comes over in 40. Dom’s survey of your area shows no hostiles; sit tight, hold your position, and wait for further orders.”
“Acknowledged. Krislee out.”
Krislee maneuvered the twenty-five-foot tall Battlelord-class machine around a large outcropping of granite. The squat headless-ostrich shape couldn’t be mistaken for a natural feature given even the worst of thunderstorms and most limited visibility. Stalking through a farm in a small valley on an overcast day, shimmering in its very own heat haze, it was obviously nothing but a vicious weapon of war. Krislee switched to infrared and scanned for moving heat signatures. Nothing. The storm of defensive electronic countermeasures and offensive electronic counter-counter measures prevented the use of more refined sensors.
Krislee maneuvered to get a clear view down the valley. Lush fields surrounded newly abandoned farms. Lush fields with a few new craters.
Who knows. The mild radioactivity might give ‘em taller corn next year.
If you left out the blast craters and smoking tanks, it was idyllic. Boring as all hell, though. Krislee stretched, sipped some water from a spigot by her head, and settled into the command chair. And then saw the movement…
“Lieutenant!”
…