This short story details an event from the Great War, a massive conflict concerning the Overlanders of Northamer and the Kingdom of Acorn. Many battles were fought in this war across thousands of miles and encompassing many units. This particular story focuses on a group of tank operators in service to the Kingdom and gives a glimpse into how tank battles played a role in the war.

-C.


Rolling Thunder

March 14th, 3222
Almavi, The Great Wilderness
430 miles from Kingdom of Acorn border.

By the time the second shell had flown past Close Shave, Corporal Logan Tayle had barely managed to get the gun of the KT-19 Dingo MBT around to face the source of the fire. The tank was old, and was held together by rough patchwork by RAF techs as they frantically tried to get whatever vehicles they had back to the front line. It was two years into the Great War, and the Kingdom was already pushed to its borders. The KT-19, named Close Shave, along with her crew, were part of an advancing effort to attempt to get the attacking Overlanders away from the West and reinforce their Eastern flank. As such, Tayle's teammates moved to the North to try to get a reaction.

Close Shave's commander, Sergeant Barnard - no last name, just Barnard, a husky looking canine, had shouted to the gunner to get fire on whatever was attacking them. Tayle used the optical sights of the 100mm cannon to try and line up a shot. With the rubble around them, this was considered a feat of both luck, and the skill of the driver, Corporal Peter Weiss, to keep them steady.

Almavi was nearly dust. The town of nearly 40,000 had been destroyed by artillery bombardments to clear away any place of rest as Ovies headed south and southwest from MegaCentral. There were many places to hide, even for a grav tank like the ones the enemy was using. Close Shave was from a more rugged age though with a chassis based on some ancient design that Tayle knew was called an Abrams. The body was boxy, yet irregular in places to deflect smaller caliber rounds, and the surface was given a slightly reflective surface so that parts of those energy bursts that their Humanoid cousins in the North preferred to use as their ammunition.

"Petey give me a few more inches!" Tayle said. "Don't got him yet!"

The tank's treads rolled a bit more, crunching on bricks in the street.

Tayle pressed his eye to the rangefinder, and found a glint of slightly red metal that seemed out of place. "I got him!" he declared, thumbing the stud on the stick.

Close Shave rocked back as one of the fin-stabilized HESH rounds spiraled out of the barrel and across the shattered block. The round impacted on the Ovie tank which immediately began to move.

"Glancing hit!" Barnard declared. "That thing's on the run now! Weiss, stay on him!"

"Sure thing!" the driver said, putting the KT-19 into gear.

The grav tank floated a full two feet off the ground, driven by some process none of the tankers could understand. The gun however was more than enough for them to grasp. While most of the Overlanders used lasers of plasma, their grav tank used good old fashioned kinetic slugs to penetrate armor. As it moved, showing its side to them, it fired again. The round was a clean miss, slamming into the forest behind them somewhere, kicking up a shower of dirt and rocks.

"Target on the run! Pathfinder, I need some help here!"

"Close Shave, I'm in!" the other Dingo in their unit said, whipping around its partner. Pathfinder was in much better shape only being thirty years old. That being said, she wasn't factory new. Barnard knew the commander - Staff Sergeant Patrice Purnell. Rodent, so he was Kingdom through and through. Word was he was the kid of a noble in the court and was probably out here to gain some favor with whatever house of lords he was from. "Let's corner him before he gets word off that we're on the way up!"

"You take the left road, Close Shave's going to keep heading right!"

While the grav tank could float over many obstacles, it took a while to get up to speed, and even slow down. Barnard often wondered why something so high tech had so many drawbacks.

"Bastard's gotta slow down! Tayle, give him some!"

Another shell slid from the autoloader into the chamber. "Gun's ready!"

"Fire!" the sergeant called.

Close Shave spat another round downrange. The fin-stabilized round left a contrail as it speared past charred cars and broken shops. It slammed straight into the Ovie tank dead on its side. The vehicle lurched upwards and then crashed onto the ground. It's right... whatever it was that kept it up... was down. It was trapped. Smoke came from the metallic wound in the tank's hull.

"Good hit!" Tayle called. "target crippled!"

"Finish it off!" Barnard called. "Weiss, pull is back! Make sure that son of a bitch doesn't..."

The grav tank fired off its cannon. Three sharp bursts escaped the tank and brass-colored shells ejected from the point above its turret. Three quick and successive impacts rocked Close Shave. Every man inside slammed their heads off the interior hull. Smoke filled the cabin and sparks came from clipped wiring. Their targeting display went off.

"Report!" Barnard called, wiping some of the blood away from his nose.

"We're good!" Tayle called looking down at the Sergeant. "No breaches! We lost targeting though."

Barnard cursed checking to see if Weiss was still alive. "Back us up now!"

"Yeah, I'm going!"

The KT-19 dragged back just as another burst came their way from the crippled tank. Apparently the Ovies were willing to fight to the end. Barnard had to commend them for that. They had warrior spirit, even if their kin started this war by stabbing people in the dark. Two of those shots missed, but one bounced off the hull, tearing into what was once an apartment building. Bricks and dust clattered to the street level.

"You backing us up or what?"

"Not backing anymore. Watch this." Weiss threw the tank into drive. The Dingo lurched forward, powered by its turbine engine. Close Shave smashed through a facade of brick going off of the main street and through where buildings once stood. Weiss looked awfully pleased behind his goggles.

"What do you want, a fucking cookie?" Barnard asked, his muzzle wrinkled by his annoyance.

"With frosting, Barry."

"Tayle, there's still a tank out there!" the sergeant called. "As soon as Lewis or Clarke or whatever the hell this guy's name is," he pointed to Weiss "finds us a path back to the main road so we can flank this sucker and push deeper into town!"

"Give me a few minutes and I can find the Northwest Passage. Lewis and Clarke didn't have shit; I've got a tank!"

"Neeerd!" Tayle called.

"Guess that makes Barry Sacagawea."

The Mobians laughed. Weiss was a nerd and was proud of it. Before he joined the RAF, he was a promising history student that showed particular interest in pre-20th Century America. Weiss's family name was given to them by a Namesake, a Human family that had cared for their ancestors when the Lost Million had their little 'accident' and were brought from Earth to Mobius, or Terra Nova as it was called back then.

Weiss jerked the control stick around, plowing through another wall and emerging in another roadway. This one seemed to have some of its buildings still standing. Weiss carefully studied the road map mentally.

"OK Logan! Next corner's going to put us right next to the tank. Get ready to fire, OK?"

"Yeah, gonna have to do it visually."

"Just kill the bastards!" Barnard said. "Pathfinder, this is Close Shave. Stand by to assist in taking down grav tank if necessary!"

"Understood! We're coming up on them now!"

Close Shave rounded the corner and took another burst in the face. The Overlander tank had been waiting for them. Alarms went off inside of the Dingo as Barnard rushed to see if their ammunition was OK.

"Fire, Tayle! Fire!"

Logan thumbed the stubs on the stick. This time a round deflected off the angled piece of metal used as a shield just below the turret.

"Oh Jesus, that looks like a dent." Barnard said. "If they get lucky, one of those shots is punching right through."

Tayle couldn't get a thought through. The Overlander tank exploded in a shower of metal and flame. The turret blew clean off and flipped through the air, landing a few feet away.

"Close Shave, Pathfinder here. Guess they didn't see us coming."

The other KT-19 rolled around the corner, barrel smoking and commander waving from the top of the turret.

"Blue blooded son of a bitch!" Barnard said thumping the hull. He laughed and smiled. "Nice shot, Pathfinder! We had them though!"

"Of course you did." the other tank responded.

"Tayle, get on the fifty and see if any of those Ovies are still kicking."

Logan punched open the roof cover and cranked the handle on the equally ancient M2-pattern machine gun, faithfully kept in service in reverence to the Human armies who swore on its reliability. There was an old saying in the military about the 'Madeuce' - "Battle tested since the Stone Age". The chain of half-inch diameter cartridges sat tucked away safely inside of a massive box. Staring down the sights, Tayle watched the burning wreck of the grav tank to see if anybody crawled from the wreckage. An explosion sounded from the inside and he nearly pulled the trigger out of reflex.

"What was that?" Barnard asked.

"Just secondaries. Nobody's coming out." Tayle said. He thumbed the safety on and watched as Pathfinder rolled around the burning wreck. "Maximilian Acorn sends his regards!"

"Close Shave, Close Shave, this is Baby, come in." came a crackle over the radio.

Down in the cabin, Barnard punched the communications panel's answer button. "'Bout time you showed up, Powell. I'm gonna kick your ass! I thought you were right behind us on the W-1!"

"We were, then someone got the bright idea to shoot a couple plasma shells at us."

"Plasma shells? Who the hell was doing that? Intel didn't say anything about indirect fire on the W-1."

"Yeah well Intel was wrong. Baby's rolling into town."

A third KT-19 rumbled around the trees the same way that Close Shave and Pathfinder did. This Dingo had a big kissy lips spray-painted just below the driver's windshield.

"Baby, come back." Close Shave's commander said.

"Baby's here. Looks like you've already taken care of business."

Barnard rubbed his forehead. "Yeah, well if what you're saying about heavy shellers on the highway, then I've got to talk to command. Form up here, OK?"

"Baby copies. I'm on the way."

"Pathfinder, you reading me?" Barnard called over the radio.

"Pathfinder responding. Looks like Powell decided to join us after all, eh?"

"Yeah, how about we form up and we can find out just what's happening on the corridor. I have a bad feeling about this."

The tanks slowly made their way around to line up side by side against one another. Tayle watched them from the turret as they negotiated terrain. He gave a one-finger salute to the other gunners who had popped out. Baby, Pathfinder, and Close Shave all lined up, and their drivers killed the engines.

"Tayle, I'm coming out. Raise your ass from that turret."

"Proceeding to raise my ass, sergeant." Logan said as he climbed out of his position, standing on the hull of the tank. He realized it was fairly cold here. The inside of the tank was quite warm in comparison. He was only dressed in an RAF t-shirt while his large helmet magnified the size of his head. He looked like a furry matchstick standing on top of his tank.

Barnard and Weiss climbed out afterwards. Soon nine men stood on their respective tanks while Barnard called in to command. Behind them, the Overlander grav tank continued to burn.

"King Cobra, King Cobra, come in. Say again, King Cobra, are you home?" he said into the radio, waiting for a response. The tankers slowly looked around, watching their backs. Each was armed with a KK-11 handgun. Individually it might not do much damage to an Overlander Phalanx team, but with concentrated fire, they might do some serious damage.

This wasn't a smart idea to stand on top of their vehicles in relatively open ground, but they needed to communicate. Though the enemy was dead.

"Lights are on, King Cobra's home."

"Cobra this is Sergeant Barnard, 2nd Battalion, 1st Tankers. My men and I are in the Wilderness city of Almavi. One of our outfit has just reported that Ovies have plasma artillery along the W-1. Can you confirm that?"

"Say again, Barnard? Plasma artillery? There's no plasma artillery where you're currently at. High orbit recon places the nearest artillery line nearly seventy five miles west of that location."

"Then they must have moved them." Sergeant Powell, the commander of Baby said.

"Sergeant Powell insists they've been fired at by artillery. Is it possible you can check again?" Barnard pushed.

"Negative. We lost two satellites that have the best view over your area. Orbital combat's been ramping up. Last scan shows no artillery in your area. You should be fine."

"Give me that radio." Powell said, extending a hand to Barnard, who handed it to the furious raccoon. "King Cobra, this is Sergeant Michael Powell, commander of KT-19 MBT, call-sign 'Baby'. We were shot at by some lobbed long range indirect fire from the north. I think the Ovies moved their artillery recently."

"That can't be possible, Sergeant."

"Cobra, how long ago was your last scan?" Powell asked.

Purnell looked at Powell as he asked that question. The blue-blood was anxious to hear this answer, as were the rest of the crew.

"Wait one, sergeant." The radio operator said. "Last scan is recorded one week prior."

"Goddamn it!" Barnard swore, he kicked the turret in anger.

The rest of the crew groaned in annoyance.

"That's more than enough time for them to move in on us." Tayle said, sticking a cigarette in his mouth and lighting it. "Who knows how many of the Ovie bastards are lining the countryside."

"We're screwed." Baby's gunner, a mustelid named Owen said. "Are we still going to push forward?"

"We have to." Barnard said. "We have to clear out the way for the rest of the battalion to follow us up in a few days. If we can't open a passage, there's no point in trying to distract them.

"King Cobra, thank you for your help. Powell out." he said before shutting off the radio, tossing it back to Barnard.

"Those friggin morons." Tayle said with a smoking cigarette in his fingers. "Rocket scientists, all of them. Using week old satellite data. They're probably right over the next hill right there and we can't do anything about it."

Barnard seemed to think about what Tayle had just said. He put his finger to his lip and thought.

"What?" Weiss asked him.

"Give me a second, I'm thinking."

Tayle chuckled. "Hey you better be careful, Barry. Remember what your doctor told you about that."

"That tank there..." the canine pointed to the smouldering wreck, "... was part of a larger group. I think... that tank came from the same group that shot at Baby. Powell, you said you were shot at from the north?"

"Nearly straight north." the raccoon confirmed, taking off his helmet and scratching his scalp. "Without a doubt. Nearly zero on the compass."

"Who's got a map?" Barnard asked.

"Wait one." Purnell said, jumping back into Pathfinder and returning a second later. The blue-blood had a folded sheet in his hand of the local area supplied to them before they rolled out. He handed it to Barnard who opened it up and glanced at it. He quickly found the town in the southwest of the map.

"OK, OK, here we are." he said. "Here's the W-1." he added pointing to the long white line that crossed that part of the country. "Powell said he was shot at from the north close to town..." he stopped, trading a line straight ahead from where Baby was when they got that message. "Holy crap."

"What?" Owen asked.

"Why didn't I think of that?" Barnard said whipping his head towards the mountains in the north. "Look at this map. OK, this mountain range is right here." he circled the altitude markings around where the jutting terrain was. "Look behind it. According to these maps there are deep valleys."

"You don't think..." Purnell began, coming close to where the two commanders were.

"Oh yeah." Barnard nodded. "That's where your arty's coming from. There's probably a lot more where that came from too."

"Holy shit." Powell said. "We're right on top of a whole garrison."

Barnard shrugged "Maybe. We're not going to know until we get up there and..."

A round impacted close by, scattering the men. They shouted and slipped quickly inside their tanks, sealing up.

"Come on Weiss, punch it!" Barnard said. "Tayle, whip that gun around and tear the bastard a new one!"

Logan quickly made the gun go round and tried to acquire their target. The second shot bounced off the hull. rocking everyone inside.

"OK, engine's running!" Weiss reported. The turbine was spinning and soon Close Shave was on the move.

"Baby, Pathfinder, move! You're right in their sights!" the sergeant said.

"Come on, Baby! Start for me!" he heard Powell say.

"I've got a target!" Tayle reported. "Got sights on two grav tanks moving in and... oh God no."

"What?" Barnard said from the lower cabin. "What do you see?"

"It's a lot more than two grav tanks, Barry." Tayle responded.

On the hill to the north was indeed the two tanks that Tayle had reported seeing, but bolstering their ranks were three walkers, each standing three stories high and armed with heavy rotating energy cannons.

"Oh no." Barnard repeated. "Baby! Pathfinder! Get out of there!"

"OK! Engine's started! Baby's mobile!"

"Don't need to tell me twice! Pathfinder is go!"

"Stick together! Combined fire!" Barnard ordered. "Everyone on me!"

The KT-19s formed a tight wedge. The grav tanks had entered the scene and the walkers were just standing by for amusement. They knew they had the Mobians outgunned and simply wanted to watch.

"Keep driving!" Barnard ordered Weiss. "OK boys! No matter what, you keep an eye on those targets! I want gunners independent of movement!"

"Hey!" Tayle said. "We're short of HESH."

"Load the AP sabot instead. Maybe we can crack their shells." the sergeant advised, slipping back close to where Weiss was.

"Alright, loading sabot." the gunner responded, switching the tank shell magazine. "Knock them dead darlings." he kissed his hand and patted one of the spiky shells before feeding the first one into the chamber. "OK, we're loaded! Sabot ready to fire on your mark!"

The tanks had retreated down the roadway where they had flanked the destroyed Ovie vehicle. However, the grav tanks had gotten on their sixes and were ready to shoot. It was the worst possible place to be. Their turbine engines were fully exposed to the hostiles. One good shot could destroy them.

"I've got track on them!" Tayle responded, cigarette still in his mouth.

"Let them have it!"

The turret thundered, sending one of the sabot rounds downrange. The casing on the outside of the shell split apart. The aerodynamic core of the shell screamed down the road and impacted the right grav tank on its side, destroying the mechanism keeping that part of it afloat. The Overlander tank lost control and spun out shredding part of the armor and leaving it motionless.

"Target destroyed!" Tayle shouted. "For the king!"

In retaliation its sibling tank fired its burst, tearing up part of Baby's rear reactive armor. The destroyed pieces trailed from the KT-19.

"Firing!" Baby called in retaliation. The cannon barked as the round went wide and over the remaining tank. Realizing it now had a chance to take out one of their numbers, the grav tank lined up another burst.

"Shoot it!" Barnard called out.

"I've gotta wait for the autoloader!" he called.

Another shell was slid into place slowly, but not fast enough. Tayle had the reticle right on the Ovie but until he got that checkmark, he couldn't shoot.

Pathfinder fired. Their own sabot shell slammed the grav tank on the side, knocking if off balance, though it kept moving.

"Glancing hit!" Tayle called.

"Oh God, oh God, oh God!" Owen cried out from Baby.

"All units, hard right!" Barnard ordered.

The three Dingos kicked up dirt as they made a hard turn back onto the main road.

"Those walkers are gone!" Weiss noted.

"Well I found them!" Tayle said suddenly horrified. "Here they come!"

The three mechs were in formation with one another, sending long flashes of lasers in their direction. Most of the beams reflected off the armor of the tanks, shooting towards the sky.

Baby fired again in desperation. This time they had gotten lucky. The round had hit just under the barrel, ricocheting through the top of the turret, blowing smoke out the ragged hole. The grav tank fell back, seriously damaged. The mechs however had no problem dogging them.

"That's a solid hit on Ovie grav tank!" Powell called.

"This is pointless! We're just going in circles! They're going to catch us!" Tayle said.

"We can't fight them head-on!"

"No." Barnard said, "We can't." before tapping the radio and saying "All units split up! Use whatever means you can to break line of sight!"

Confused and scared for their lives, Purnell and Powell ordered their tanks to break formation and seek shelter inside the ruins of the city. Some of the buildings left standing could be used as shortcuts to cross blocks. They hoped that they would also be places to hide.

Baby was the first to break away. The trailing walker diverted course to shoot at the already damaged turbine. The cannon cracked as superheated air gave way to the plasma beam. Purnell ordered his gunner to fire on the mech. The cannon cracked, and a sabot round impacted on the pelvis of the walker which kept on going.

"No effect!" Baby's gunner, Owen, said. That should have taken it down! I'm hitting the co-ax!"

The .30-caliber machine gun spat slugs at the approaching mech as if it could actually do something about it. Sparks showered from the vehicle as they splashed harmlessly across the armor.

"It's still coming!" the gunner said, panicking. "Firing the sabot again!" he screeched, thumbing the stud and sending another shot downrange. The shell split apart in midair with the sharp tip hoping to score a hit on the walker. No joy, the round had missed cleanly, streaking into the air.

The walker fired its cannons again. The cracks of it were loud and echoed through the ruins. The beams found their mark on the turbine, heating it up and causing the engine to trail smoke. Something cracked in the engine, and Baby started to lose speed.

"No!" Powell said slamming the back of the driver's seat. "Not like this!"

"I can make it to that ruin!" the driver, a polecat named Jensen, said. "Just a bit more!"

The shots just kept coming. A fire started in the engine. Warning lights winked on. Any second now the mech would score a hit on the magazine, blowing them all to hell, but the explosion never came. Baby skidded below part of the ruin, separated from the mech's line of sight. They had landed in a shallow plaza, but the engine wouldn't start again.

"Baby's immobile! Be advised, we are not combat effective." he looked to the crew. "Pile out! Now! Get out!"

Powell didn't have to repeat. He and his men vacated their tank and had jumped out onto the brick-littered floor of the building. "I've got an idea." he said. "We have any deployable mines?"

"Yeah." Owen said. "Plenty."

"Arm one, then run for cover."

"Sure thing." the young Mobian said, climbing back onto the tank and diving inside to find them mine. Quickly locating it in a deployment rack, it didn't take long to arm it from there. He scrambled out of the tank and ran to join his friends. They had taken cover in a nearby stairwell that had once been for this building. They waited for a second and then as they thought, one of the walls came down. The walker that had pursued them had come back with its barrel steaming. The vehicle had spotted the burning KT-19 and had walked up to it with armored foot ready to stomp it to metal scrap. The instant the foot touched the tank body, the anti-vehicle mine inside detonated. The shockwave set off not only every other unarmed mine inside of the tank, but almost one hundred additional shells of ammunition, not to mention the fuel. Baby exploded with so much force that the roof had come down. The fireball engulfed the walker, and the shockwave had laid it out in pieces.

The walker had been destroyed, but at the cost of Baby's life. The tankers took off their helmets and saluted their fallen friend.

Meanwhile, Pathfinder wasn't having much luck. After hearing the explosion, the crew had shared a collective heart attack. Purnell had frantically called to see if Powell and his men were still alive.

"Say something dammit!" he said over the radio. His gunner fired at the mech, missing completely. "Come on, Powell!"

"Enemy walker eliminated. Baby gave her life though. She died for us." a truly heartbroken sounding Powell responded.

"At least you're alive. My god, man. It's just a tank."

"Blue bloods wouldn't know much about the bond between man and machine." Barnard said.

"Don't you have a walker to kill?"

"Got an idea."

"It'd better be good."

"No it's terrible."

Out of the corner of the windshield, Purnell could just make out Close Shave wheeling back down the road they had all come in on. The mech followed closely. The blue blood quickly climbed below where his gunner was firing off yet another round from the 100mm cannon. The empty shell ejected from the back of the turret and clattered on the road. This Ovie mech was not having any of it dogging them. Purnell looked around the magazine. They had plenty of AP which was being unloaded now, fresh out of HESH, but there were two red shells that were stacked next to one another that seemed like the last of a larger batch. He knew what these were right away.

"Whiskers, load up one of those phosphorous shells. I've got an idea."

"They're not going to pierce that armor!" Whiskers warned.

I know! just do it!"

Pathfinder smashed through the remains of a playground. The twisted husks of metal cages were simply crushed beneath the treads. The tank's driver, Corporal Janik Stagson, breathed in and out, jerking the tank's wheel and keeping it stable. His foot was pressed down on the accelerator so hard he was afraid that it was going to break through the metal floor.

The mech's cannon spun up again, landing shots on the tank's turret. These beams shot off into the sky, reflected by the tank's protective coating, but it wouldn't last. This Ovie tried something different, doing what his partner did against Baby. The pilot adjusted his aim to the turbine.

Whiskers slid out the loaded shell and grabbed one of the phosphorous-loaded shots instead. This had a particular mixture intended more for smoke-screening their advance. They had used several in the past few days to flank weapons emplacements. Today, good old Willy Pete had a new task. The feline slid it into the chamber manually, locked the chamber and called, "Gun ready! Waiting on your order!"

Purnell said, "Take aim, and fire when ready."

The gunner nodded, making fine adjustments. When he had a shot, he called out, "Firing!"

The white phosphorous shell rocketed from the barrel already trailing sparks. It slammed into where Whiskers guessed the cockpit was. It splintered into a hundred wheels of light with some of the material actually stuck to the mech itself.

"Deir! Handbrake!"

"Understood!" the cervine said, yanking the handle to his right. Pathfinder slid to a halt, moving out of the way.

"Whiskers, get that sabot loaded again! Now! Now!"

The gunner nodded, hooking up the autoloader as quickly as he could. Just as the shell fed into the chamber, Pathfinder started to rumble. Deir swore as gigantic feet moved to his left. The walker had kept going, firing its cannons blindly. The bipedal chassis was still trailing smoke plumes of white phosphorus.

"OK, ready!" the gunner cried.

"Kill him!" Purnell ordered.

Whiskers lined up the shot and thumbed the trigger.

Pathfinder shook. The sabot split apart and travelled less than a hundred feet from the barrel. The pointed tip shredded through the engine's exhaust grill, conveniently now right in front of them. Ironically, the Ovie would die the same way he had wanted Purnell to.

The walker's engine and plasma battery exploded in a crimson fireball. Metal shot into the air in a rain of hot steel. Forks of phosphorous were still rising from the walker's front. The Overlander war machine leaned forward and slammed face first into an abandoned car, flipping the sedan into the air. The walker moved no more.

"Hell yeah!" Whiskers said, fist raised.

"That's a clean kill!" Deir nodded. "Nice shooting!"

Purnell nodded, though he had been sweating heavily. "Right lads. Let's check that out. Confirm that kill." He tapped his radio. "Close Shave, Close Shave, this is Pathfinder. Hostiles eliminated. How are things going on your end?"

The damn thing just wouldn't die. Weiss had put everything he had into his tank, even switching to overdrive which nearly burned out the transmission.

Tayle fired the coaxial at the walker. The shells tumbled to the cracked road that lead to the highway. "Come on, you son of a bitch! Take the bait!"

Barnard quickly wondered if this was going to work. He had to use Baby's experience to help them. The road curved away to the W-1, the only well maintained road that headed north and south. nobody really owned this highway, but both the Kingdom and the Ovies sought to control it. The only major paved road in this part of the continent was a major target.

"North or south?" Weiss asked.

"North!" Barnard shouted.

"You're really making us do this, Barry?"

"Turn! North!"

"Aye aye, captain." Weiss breathed, yanking the wheel to the right.

Close Shave skidded as the tanks caught pavement on one side and soil on the other. The differential kept the tank pointed more or less forward, and they kept pushing. Now on the highway, they were accelerating. Weiss noted they were topping almost seventy kilometers per hour.

"We're not going fast enough!" Tayle called out. "Kick in the overdrive!"

"It's going to kill the transmission!" the driver fired back.

"And that thing's gonna kill us!" Logan pointed with his finger back towards the bipedal robot.

"Weiss pulled a lever that attached an extra gear to the engine. Extra power diverted from the battery to power it, driving the mechanism to move quicker. The tank jumped ahead, now topping eighty five kilometers per hour. They were pulling away from the walker.

"Yeah!" Tayle said, pumping the air. "Where's your turbo on that?"

The walker opened fire, throwing divots of hot asphalt into the air. The plasma beams traced dots in the roadway. Even though Close Shave was putting distance between the mech, they still very much could be taken out. When one of the walker's beams sliced into the right tread base and blowing out part of a segment, the tank bounced and lost serious speed. Smoke rose from the engine compartment and Weiss banged on the console.

"No!" he growled.

"Steady." Barnard ordered.

"Anything longer than a five foot drop will snap the tread!" he said.

Knowing that it had the tank beat, the walker slowed to a steady stomp and didn't react while Tayle sent coaxial gunfire in its direction. Not satisfied with the way the plan was going, he decided to reload what was left of their HESH. The kinetic impact, he thought, would knock the walker off balance, and maybe kill the gyros in the legs. Barnard saw what he was doing.

"That won't be necessary." he warned.

"How are you sure this is going to work?"

"Trust me."

Logan did nothing as he sat back and waited for the inevitable. No doubt the pilot of that mech had been surprised that the tank had stopped firing, but then returned anyway. The engine compartment caught fire.

"Aw hell!" Tayle said, grabbing a fire extinguisher from under his seat. He pulled the pin and blasted it straight into the workings of the tank, smothering the flames.

"We've got no power!"

"Hang on..." Barnard said.

Then it came. Three large arcs of plasma shot over the mountain. The same indirect fire that had been shot at Baby coming in had now been targeted at them. The walker had no idea it was coming while Barnard had counted on it. The first volley had been miscalculated by the artillery, and they only just missed, landing instead behind where they actually were, and right on top of the gloating walker. The impact of the plasma mortars superheated the area of impact. Of the three shells to be fired, two landed almost directly on the combat robot. In the same instant that the metal began to boil, the plasma battery detonated, completely destroying the combat unit, leaving only a few pieces behind. The last of this force had been destroyed.

But Close Shave had no power still. Tayle had climbed into the engine compartment to see that some of the wiring had sparked an electrical fire that had eliminated with the extinguisher.

More shells had started to come down. They were still misses, but Weiss had begun to lose his cool.

"Come on man!" he shouted at the gunner. "I don't want to die like this!"

"Shut up! You're not dying at all today!" Logan snarled as he wrapped a length of electrical tape along exposed wiring. Barnard simply sat there calculating. "Barry, give me a hand over here!"

"Close Shave, Pathfinder! Baby's crew is hitching a ride and we're on our way to your position! What's going on out there?"

"Head south!" Barnard ordered. "Get out of range! They've got the north covered!"

Weiss had started praying in the front. Logan warned him not to start the engine until he had given the all-clear. "I pray to the Ancients you find me worthy in your presence, for I close my eyes for the last time, I wish to open them forever alongside you..."

"We are not dying here!" Tayle said, seeking out more wires. Whatever that walker did, it was serious. Barnard spotted more for him to fix.

One shot landed so close, the heated air formed a bow shock that slammed into the side armor, singing the side of the Dingo. It also rocked Close Shave a few inches off the ground.

"They're zeroing us in!" Barnard said. He took his helmet off to scratch his scalp which was running with sweat. His ears were folded back and his teeth were involuntarily gritted.

"OK, I think that's it!" Tayle said. His eyes were wide and a nervous smile was on his face. His tail had begun to swing just a little bit. "Weiss, fire it up!"

The driver nodded, cutting his prayer to the Ancients short. He flipped a few switches to get the electrical flow going to the turbine. He closed his eyes and pressed down on the ignition button.

There was a small whine which grew to a large roar. The turbine engine had re-engaged and was spooled up on full output. A thin smile crossed Weiss' face as Close Shave screamed to life. He slammed the tank into reverse, not caring what was behind him. He slammed his foot on the accelerator and bracing hard in case he hit a tree. The tank lurched back. Weiss used visual cues from the road in front of him to keep himself steady. The location where the crew had just been was impacted repeatedly by what was fired over the mountains. It was time to get out. The north was compromised and their advance was watched.

"This entire operation was a wash." Tayle said, taking another drag on his cigarette before throwing it off the tank.

"No it wasn't." Barnard said. "We just updated Cobra's intelligence by a full week. If we were to send all of the 2nd Army up the W-1 to flank the Ovies, they would have been slaughtered by those artillery positions. We saved lives by being here today. We did good work boys."

"Maybe they can fire the moron who's supposed to be doing recon flights in this area." Tayle said. "Heads up, they aren't done!"

A few lucky blasts from the artillery in the mountains struck too far ahead. Weiss turned hard to avoid them as they blew chunks out of the W-1. Keeping the tank under control, Weiss continued forward. "I think we're clear." he said.

No more shots came their way. Close Shave was out of range. Up ahead, another blue-grey colored tank was making its way south. Pathfinder had three extra crew that sat on top of the turret as they barreled down the highway. Powell and his men were holding on as Pathfinder bounced along the roadway. From the turret, Whiskers was speaking to the men and pointed to Close Shave as it came close. Tayle, now outside and on the turret, gave a small salute as the pair met up.

"So what's the plan?" he asked Powell, shouting over the turbines. "We can't go north.

"No." Powell said. "They've got that covered. For now we get back to 2nd Army and plan from there."

"But we have another plan, right?" Owen asked, looking at the landscape as it passed them. "I thought the kingdom always has a plan."

"It does!" Barnard said, poking his head through the hole. "But that's for the thinking types to come up with. Right now I'm looking at a group of fine individuals that added six more kills to the 1st Tankers' lists! We'll get back out there soon enough. Ovies think they own the north. They're wrong. We're going to take it from them one mile at a time! For King and Country!"

The men raised their fists and cheered.

"For King and Country!"

/END TRANSMISSION/