Chapter Thirty-Two: First Strikes

            The Catskill mountain range near Megacity 5/New York spans a great distance. The best thing to happen to the Hunters was finding Seraph Castle's position before the Red Climate began…otherwise, even with spy planes, finding one fort in the midst of many mountains could well have taken more time than the Hunters had. Some had questioned the fort's close proximity to Hunter HQ, citing that the danger posed be being so close to one's enemies was too great for a tiny, hurting group like the Mavericks. In light of recent developments, however, the choice seemed to be a very good one. Teytha had led Blackstar 5041 to the mouth of the mountain road leading up to Seraph Castle—the one the Hunters were using even now. Had Seraph Castle been further down, Malevex's reinforcements would never have arrived in time, and the entire Maverick plot would have been foiled. Also there was another detail, one that the Hunters did not yet know—an airship lay in an underground garage, and in order for it to reach its target destination and perform its grisly task, it needed fuel. Fuel was not something Sigma ever had enough of, excluding the first uprising, when he'd controlled basically the entire Megacity and its surrounding areas. If Seraph Castle were any further from Megacity 5, Gallagher would have quite a time completing its mission.

            Seraph Castle lay in a valley of sorts, in between two large mountains and the high ground that surrounded them. The high ground dipped downward into what in the spring was a beautiful vale, and what in winter was a picturesque snowy wonderland. That was, of course, until Sigma came and built his fortress, and now while the castle did not really pollute or damage the environment, it still hideously out of place, likening to a rip in a beautiful painting. Sigma had been intelligent enough in his architectural design that he placed the fort against a high rise, so no attack could come from behind. Teytha's road led ultimately to a dead end at the foot of a small mountain after winding wildly throughout the mountain range. This dead end was now guarded by invisible forces buried not so deeply underground; mines were scattered about the area, powerful enough to destroy tanks, just in case the Hunters in their folly followed the road all the way to its end. To reach the Maverick Palace, one had to head down a smaller side road that began roughly halfway down the main path. Teytha and Malevex had led their compact mobile artillery units down this way with relative ease, but tanks would never fit in so tight a space. Even after Taggart's aerial spies had confirmed the possible paths to Seraph Castle, the main difficulty was moving the tanks. Advanced though they were, they couldn't yet climb mountains without significant risk, and thus were forced to use the low roads leading directly across the range. The Mavericks knew this, of course, and took care to leave all manner of little surprises for the unlucky Hunters stuck moving the big guns. Mines all but littered the roads, and already three ride armors were down and one mini-tank destroyed due to this hidden menace. The only solution, if it could be called so, was to call in one of Taggart's birds to spray the road with machine gun fire, thus setting off as many hidden mines as possible, though certainly alerting any nearby enemy soldiers. Still, the Hunter leaders X and Zion decided, the Mavericks must know something is happening by now. Surely spies reported that the Hunters had left their base.

            And so, Ravens 4 and 5 flew in to do battle with dirt. Taking great pains to avoid hitting their comrades, and at the same time feeling insanely foolish, they opened fire on the ground. Raven 4 headed down the low road and Raven 5 followed it, picking off what 4 left behind. The plan worked, to a point. Explosions followed the two jets wherever they went. Occasionally the advancing Hunter artillery passed a Maverick guard post, and while many stood and fought and died, the wiser ones retreated from their posts and hid themselves in the mountains, waiting for the danger to pass.

            It wasn't any easier for Units 3, 5, 17, 20, and 0. Zion divided his Unit 20 between Archer and Mason, and went with the latter down a path leading to the right mountain, while the former took his men towards the left mountain. X and Delates moved together, taking a straighter, more heavily guarded path towards the fort. They would reunite near the mouth of the valley, and when Erich Zegmann's 15th Unit appeared in full, their main attack would begin. But Zegmann was himself still at the beginning of the Catskill paths, and at any rate a third of his unit was still at Hunter Headquarters, struggling to get their machines working.

            But the battle would begin in its own way even before Zegmann appeared, X and Zion knew. Even now as Zion, Mason, and Archer headed towards the twin mountains that bordered Seraph Castle, Damia's 8th Unit was already there, divided into two groups, each with the same mission. Compared to the Hunters, the Mavericks were grossly outnumbered. However they had knowledge of the land and cruel cunning on their side, and they'd set up gunnery encampments at various places along the trails they expected the Hunters to use, as well as a number of other traps. They soon learned, though, that with so many Hunters coming it would be foolish to use any of the guns they'd planted, lest they be immediately overwhelmed and destroyed. Still, several Mavericks attempted to destroy the intruders when the groups looked to be small…and immediately after larger groups would come running, and the Mavericks would die. Most of the sparse enemy patrol unit, however, chose to hide in the cover of the snowy mountains and armed themselves with radios rather than rifles, and they called in and reported Hunter troop movements. Bit and Byte were not all that worried—they did not expect the Hunters to stick around for very long. But if they did come, the Maverick brothers knew, they would have to have some plan set up to stall the enemy long enough for their comrades to escape and flee to Brazil or some other sanctuary. They used the reports well, and Malevex spent most of his time with Mortar and Teytha going over new developments and offering his advice as a tactician on how to set up the base security. Cyber Peacock had already initiated several brilliant internal traps inside Seraph Castle, though all the Mavericks hoped that their use would be unnecessary.

            Aiding in this reconnaissance effort were two radar bases, one at the foot of the east mountain, and one at the foot of the west mountain. They had been cleverly placed in areas where air strikes would be impossible or difficult at best, and the actual radar antennas were not large enough to attract real attention from planes passing overhead. However, Taggart's spies were very good at what they did, and photos taken by Alec Tremont and many other pilots had been sent to Caligula's Invisible Men for analysis. Caligula had quickly locked onto the two radar bases and guessed at their role in the coming battle. The Mavericks would certainly expect some kind of aerial attack on their fort, and the small radar bases would lock onto the Ravens as they moved in to fight. It was still in debate whether or not the radar bases had locked onto Carlos Delgado on that night not so long ago, but many thought it likely. Something had to have alerted the Mavericks, after all. No one knew how far the radar reach stretched, and so Taggart did not allow any of his birds to fly near the twin mountains. Ravens 4 and 5 were not allowed to spray the ground past a certain point, and when the Hunters reached there they were forced to stop and wait. They would not have to wait long. While an air strike may have been impractical, a ground assault was certainly necessary, and Damia was more than up to the task. Once the radar bases were gone, the Hunters knew, Taggart could begin his bombing raids and fulfill half his role in the battle…that was finally upon them, they all knew now.

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            The wind was cold, very cold. Winter in itself was bad enough, the young Reploid thought, but a Catskill winter was downright harsh. Here he was high in the mountains, surrounded by piles of snow that would only get deeper, if the meteorologists were right about the coming blizzard. They were right, he knew. They were never wrong, not anymore. Even now he was able to pick out the silver linings on the clouds in the dark night sky, and he could see no moon. It didn't rain at this time of year, he knew, not here at least. The snow in the air was thickening, and the wind was picking up. He sorely hoped that it didn't affect the radar readings he was supposed to be taking. The Maverick took a long pull on his cigarette and expelled the fumes slowly, watching the smoke grow even thicker due to the contact between his warm breath and the freezing air. Time for another check, he supposed.

            "Hey, Gerritt!"

            The Reploid turned to face the speaker. "Yeah, yeah, I know, Cordan."

            "Naw, forget the radar," Cordan replied, gesturing to the snowy paths surrounding the small radar hut. "I'll handle that. Largo's on his way in, you go take his place."

            "Why me?" Gerritt protested in more than a little annoyance.

            "Because you're next in line after Firs, and you look bored anyway." Cordan grinned, twitching his whiskers. "Besides, you know how jittery Largo is, and Firs isn't much better. Hans and Tortal just got back, so it ain't right to send them back out."

            "Why don't you go, if you love it so much?"

            "Never said that," Cordan replied with a shrug. "I'll go out after Firs. Check you later."

            Easy for him to say, Gerritt thought as he watched Cordan leave. Cordan was patterned after a snow fox, and so he was right at home in this climate. Gerritt, however, was made to resemble a raccoon. Sure he was bipedal, like the vast majority of animal-based-but-still-humanoid Reploids, but he was also a raccoon, and raccoons belonged in forests, not in the goddamned freezing mountains.

            Sighing, Gerritt stubbed out his cigarette and let it fall, wishing he'd spent more time inside the shed. They'd bought a heater on their own, and he wouldn't mind crashing in front of it now, but for the moment he'd go and relieve Largo—that jittery wimp—and prowl around in the snow for god knew how long. He lifted his rifle from its place against the outer wall of the wooden shed and started towards the trail. He found Largo after a few minutes, and the tall skinny humanoid was just thrilled to be sent back to the heated shelter he'd left twenty minutes ago. So what if the Hunters came, Gerritt thought. If they came, he'd run, and damn the Great Maverick Cause. He was in this to get back at the humans who'd branded his brother a Maverick and the Hunters who'd then shot him dead on the street—Gerritt's brother had served with Repliforce, and the Hunters hadn't taken kindly to his desire for independence.

            It was a simple path around some smaller hills, and Gerritt walked it almost mindlessly at first, annoyed at the task and at Firs's incompetence and at Cordan's laziness, but as time passed he settled down and remembered that there were most probably Maverick Hunters in vast numbers approaching Seraph Castle, and any sounds that seemed remotely out of place were to be taken as life threatening instances. Gerritt had been up here long enough to know what sounded normal and what was out of place, and he listened keenly for anything that would set off a mental alarm.

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            But the people who approached the western radar base did so slowly and cautiously, and they made no noises for Gerritt to lock on to. There were four of them, and all were decked out in cloaks of gray, bright enough to blend with the snow, and dark enough not to expose them in the black of night. All found the cloaks to be cumbersome, but none were willing to give up the useful camouflage. Not yet, at any rate.

            One of them crept hastily up to a hill of snow and threw herself down on the white earth. She looked at the path below this high ground, and to the shed in the distance. She'd found her target, and she was sure her comrades had found theirs. Shivering at the cold air and ground, Commander Damia activated the communicator in her wrist and spoke in a harsh whisper so as to be heard over the wind, but only by her intended audience. "Alpha One in position five-zero yards south of target, report status."

            "Alpha Two, in position east of Alpha One, two-five yards from target," she heard a few minutes later.

            "Alpha Three," a third voice chimed in, "in position near Alpha Two."

            "Alpha Four is onto something," the final member of Damia's team reported.

            "Acknowledged," Damia said to them all. "What do we have, Acrystos?"

            "I've reached the detail we discussed earlier," Alpha Four responded.

            "What do we have?" Damia repeated, interested. The western radar base wasn't the only shed in the area. There seemed to be an encampment of sorts nearby, though the pictures taken by Taggart's spies hadn't been clear enough to make any identification.

            "Looks like an ammo dump," Alpha Four, Acrystos, responded from her position, crouched in a heap of building snow, freezing but watching her target intently. "They've got all sorts of boxes there, ma'am, and there's even a mounted machine gun."

            "Lovely," Damia hissed back, fighting off a shiver as the wind grew ever colder. "Enemies?"

            "I count three Mavericks at the ammo dump…any one could get on that machine gun, ma'am."

            "I agree," the commander replied without much in the way of hesitation. They had to disable that machine gun before they attacked the base, for sure. "Alpha Two, Alpha Three, what say you?"

            Alpha Two, a human named Henry Wallace, centered in on the shed with the zoom function on his rifle. He'd already counted the figures moving in and out of the base, and made his best guesstimate. "I count five at the shed. Looks like they sent one out on patrol, though I'm not sure of the route yet." It would be so easy, Wallace thought while staring at the snow fox who stretched luxuriously on the shed's porch, to take down the Maverick scum here and now, but then he'd risk them alerting Seraph Castle with radios…and that was why they weren't attacking with rifles, Wallace thought with a grin, turning his attention to Alpha Three, another human named Peter Stromm, his longtime friend and usual partner. Stromm held in his hands the S88, a variant of the Stinger missile launcher. Already Wallace saw Stromm analyzing the shed's structure. It was actually bigger than they'd first thought. One missile might take out the radar, but Stromm would need to reload before taking out any surviving Mavericks. Well, that was what Wallace was there for…cover fire.

            "Roger," Damia replied, and then sighed into the wind, making her choice. "Acrystos, stay put. I'm coming to help you out." She switched channels. "Team Bravo this is Team Alpha, what is your status?"

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            "Team Alpha, this is Team Bravo," a calm Reploid named Castle responded. "Bravo One is in place, two-five meters away from the target."

            "Bravo Two is in position with Bravo One."

            "Bravo Three, in position on eastern hill, one-five meters."

            "Bravo Four, west hill, one-eight meters."

            "Bravo One reports five enemies, two in the station, three others on patrol."

            "Alpha One copies. Stand by."

            "Roger that," Castle replied, turning to Bravo Two, a human sniper named Brant Everett. Everett, a lean blond haired young man in his mid-twenties, focused on the shed that was the eastern radar base. It was bigger than the western one, mostly because of its height. It was also a bit wider, and Team Bravo wondered if maybe the Mavericks used it as a storage shed as well. "What do you think, Brant?"

            Everett didn't look up from his sniper rifle. "I think it's too much for one shot, pal."

            "I think you're right," the regularly built, dark armored humanoid agreed, looking to the S88 Stinger launcher laying at his side while switching on his communicator. "Team Bravo, there's gonna be a brief lull while I refuel my tank. Can you handle it?"

            "I'm insulted, Castle," Bravo Three, a big, powerful Reploid named Dantz said from his position atop the eastern snow hill overlooking the radar base. Dantz, with his bulky red armor, depended heavily on his gray cape for camouflage. He carried an assault rifle fitted with a scope rather than a sniper rifle, and he was close enough that he could do serious, accurate damage with that thing. Still, three Mavericks were out on patrol, and while Castle might get the two in the base with his missiles, three Mavericks running about unclustered could be hard to take down before they escaped.

            Meters away, on a hill to the west of the radar station, another Reploid lay in wait. His name was Deluge, and he fittingly wore blazing blue armor underneath his gray cape. He, too, carried an assault rifle, and from his position he examined the terrain. There were no ammo dumps nearby. There were some clusters of supplies, and the occasional barrel of propellant for the heaters that the Mavericks must have installed. Deluge thought for a minute and then keyed his communicator. "Dantz, I have an idea." Bravo Four went over the said idea, and Dantz, satisfied, agreed to it, as did Castle and Everett, who had listened in.

            "Wait for the order," Castle reminded them all unnecessarily, for while all were eager, none complained. Unit 8 survived because it was cautious. There was no such thing as too much caution, they all knew, especially when living the life of a guerilla.

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            Gerritt had decided to walk to the ammo dump and check in with the folks there, if nothing else because he was bored, and he admitted to himself that he wanted to stay as close to the radar base as possible. He told himself that it was because he didn't want to be caught in the blizzard, but the raccoon knew that it had a lot more to do with the fact that Hunters were approaching rapidly. The ammo dump was visible from the radar base…in fact it was merely down the road. Gerritt had taken a roundabout path to reach it, going through some snow hills to at least act like he was on patrol. He'd feel better when he was nearer to that mounted machine gun, he knew.

            For all his increased vigilance, Gerritt did not notice the diminutive Reploid creeping speedily yet silently across the snow hills behind him. Damia kept her cape pulled tightly around her for fear it would flap in the wind and alert the enemy, but at the same time she made sure that her assault rifle could easily be brought up to an attack position. Once she surmised where the raccoon was heading, she ducked behind a rock formation that lay along the path and activated her communicator. "Alpha Four, be advised you have an enemy coming up behind you."

            "Acknowledged, Alpha One," Acrystos confirmed from her spot far ahead. She was perfectly hidden, she thought, and as long as she didn't move the approaching enemy wouldn't be able to tell her apart from the snow. "Am I letting him live, Alpha One?"

            "You are," Damia replied after a moment's contemplation. That Maverick might make reports back to the shed via his radio, and if he were suddenly late in reporting, the enemy might get suspicious. The leader of Unit 8 crept out from her hiding spot and shadowed Gerritt the rest of the way to the ammo dump, which was perhaps fifty meters from the shed. Here she hid herself under a pile of snow much as Acrystos had, and kept her rifle hidden. For her part Acrystos retracted her rifle under the snow with her, having been using its scope to monitor the three Mavericks sitting at the ammo dump.

            Gerritt saw that the three Mavericks were still there, and it reassured him enough that his fear of Hunters died down a bit. He reached into a compartment on his brown armor and produced his pack of cigarettes. Setting his rifle down and leaning it against his leg, he found his lighter in the same compartment and lit up a cigarette, disgusting Damia and Acrystos with his lack of vigilance. Just another thug with a gun, they both thought.

            As Gerritt replaced his cigarette pack and lighter, he thought to check his internal clock. He'd been out for twelve minutes now, he realized. He could start back now, and reach the shed just in time to legitimately say he'd done his duty, and now it was some other asshole's turn, jittery or not. It vaguely irked him that he could just take the straight path from the ammo dump and reach the shed in five minutes, but that wasn't enough time, he knew. He picked up his rifle, shouldered it, and started back down the trail he'd come from, passing Damia without the slightest hint of alarm.

            Damia waited for a minute after he passed, just to make sure, and then rose from the snow, forcing herself not to shiver too much lest it affect her aim. She scampered forward to the mouth of the trail, and beheld the cache. There were boxes of ammunition and barrels of propellant, probably to reinforce some nearby larger patrol force. This vaguely worried Damia, but they weren't planning to stick around long enough for enemy reinforcements to arrive. "Alpha Four, Alpha One is in position with full view of target."

            "Alpha One, Alpha Four has similar status," Acrystos responded, slowly pushing her rifle out of the snow. She was actually off the trail, well to the right, and found that she had a good line of fire. Still, she thought, she was using an assault rifle, not a sniper rifle, and the wind was picking up. It would help to be a little closer, she decided. "Alpha Four recommends moving in."

            "Alpha One acknowledges that." Damia frowned and watched the lazy Mavericks at the cache. One was leaning back right on the machine gun. He wasn't in danger of firing it; he was just using it as a backrest. "Wait for my signal. We'll move in and secure this cache. Alpha Two, Alpha Three," she went on, "are you ready?"

            "Alpha Two is on target," Henry Wallace confirmed, keeping his sights trained on Cordan the snow fox. The Maverick walked in and out of the shed on a regular basis, and from the looks of things he was ready to head back in. Even if the fox retreated, Wallace reasoned, the shed was not a safe place to be. Wallace confirmed this with a glance at his partner.

            "Alpha Three is locked and loaded," Peter Stromm affirmed, hoisting the S88 on his shoulders and activating the target sensors. It penetrated the interference caused by the advancing blizzard and locked onto the heater inside the shed, of all things. Stromm had decided that an attack on the base of the building might cripple the people inside, but they could still send an alert message with the help of that radar antenna. That had to go first. Stromm lifted the S88 a bit and focused on the roof, where the thick stem of the antenna emerged. His aim didn't have to be all that good, he reasoned. The explosion would certainly take out the base of the antenna, and then he could reload and fire again. He hadn't carried that heavy second missile up here for nothing, Stromm grumped inwardly, thinking of the shell in his pack.

            "Good," Damia said at length. "Stand by." The moment was upon them, she knew. The blizzard would begin in full force soon, and maybe it would cut off advancing Maverick reinforcements. She had to move now. She switched frequencies and called up her second squad. "Team Bravo, are you ready to execute?"

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            "Bravo One, on target." Castle hefted his own S88 with little trouble, having decided to take out the lower section of the large shed. He figured that this way he might neutralize the two Mavericks manning the radar and radio before taking out the antenna. His second missile was already out of his pack and waiting to be loaded.

            "Bravo Two, on target." Brant Everett had his sniper scope lined up on one of the three patrolling Mavericks, but he knew it wouldn't last long. "Target is moving out of range."

            "Bravo Three has no target, but this is a part of the plan."

            "Bravo Four agrees."

            "Plan?" Alpha One was confused, but she'd learned before that it was foolish to question the ingenuity of her soldiers…Castle and Acrystos in particular. The two Aegis agents had already experienced a good deal of action in previous wars that Damia herself would never match, and they'd thought their ways out of several unlucky situations. If Castle had something planned, it was best to just let him run with it. "If you say so. Team Bravo, execute. Team Alpha, stand by for my order. Our mission just became a two-step process, and step one is up to me."

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            Cordan glanced at Firs and Largo, both of whom were warming themselves before the heater. The snow fox despised humans, and therefore despised humanoids. Firs and Largo didn't score any points by being nervous and incompetent, either. The small shed was home to a large couch and a chair, and two smaller chairs near the radar computer terminal. Seated there now were Hans and Tortal, the only two besides Gerritt that Cordan could really rely on. Hans was a humanoid, but at least he was a competent one, and Cordan did appreciate that. Tortal was a turtle, and Cordan thus thought his name was a hideous pun, but he had yet to say this to Tortal himself, for this turtle was a tough turtle.

            "Both of you," Cordan said to Firs and Largo. "Get up and take the next patrol."

            "Both of us?" Largo protested. "I just came back!"

            "I'm going with you," Cordan added, as if that were supposed to help. "It's time you two learned a thing or two about proper patrolling technique. Now grab your weapons!"

            Cordan was in command of this station, and so Largo and Firs complied, though they did so with rancor. Even the people Cordan respected didn't like the overbearing fox much. They left the shed a minute later.

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            "Good evening," Henry Wallace said as he centered his sniper rifle's scope back on Cordan's furry head. Next to him, Peter Stromm heard a repeated beeping coming from his bulky launcher. It had acquired its target.

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            Team Bravo acted first. Dantz and Deluge watched and waited for their targets to reappear, and when they did not they centered their rifles on the proper path and sent Castle their signal. Castle heard the beeping from within his own S88 and steeled his nerves. The Reploid punched the proper trigger button and the launcher shuddered in his hands. A trail of smoke invaded his optics, and even before this cleared the whistle of a missile in flight registered in his sound receptors. The projectile sped through the air leaving a brief trail of black smoke behind it and impacted the front of the shed's lower level, dead center. It was as though the explosion had begun from deep inside the shed. The walls exploded outwards and a gout of flame spewed forth from every available venue. Thunder split the windy but otherwise silent night, and all around the remaining wild animals scurried for cover. War had begun, and they had no place in that.

            Castle was already reloading. He opened the casing on the S88 and struggled to shove the cumbersome missile shell inside. It didn't take him more than thirty seconds, and Brant Everett was making sure nothing exciting happened in the meantime. The sniper watched the front of the destroyed building, noticing how the upper level seemed ready to cave in. That antenna wouldn't be around much longer, and Castle was just going to give it a helpful nudge in the right direction.

            Everett didn't quite believe it when he saw it—a Maverick was stumbling out of the fiery wreckage. An arm was missing, and he was rather torn up. Everett zoomed in on the target's head and almost recoiled in disgust. Violent things, Stingers were. Everett depressed the trigger on his sniper rifle and ended the target's pain.

            Dantz and Deluge started shooting at almost the same time. They had both removed the silencers from their assault rifles and now used the noise to their advantage. The sound of automatic weapons chatter filled the night as Bravo Three and Bravo Four drew lines in the snow near the entrance of one path.

            Just as Castle finished his reloading process, Dantz and Deluge sprang their trap. The Mavericks had come running, not away to safety, but back to the scene of carnage to see what had happened. One of the three Mavericks on patrol emerged from the trail that the Hunters were showering with gunfire, and was gunned down very quickly. The other two emerged from different paths, saw which direction the gunfire was coming from, and raced back in the opposite direction before returning fire at the invisible shooters with their own weapons. Their efforts were futile, though, and they hid near a larger cluster of ammo boxes and propellant tanks.

            Deluge smiled and stopped shooting. He whirled around in the snow and leveled his rifle at the clustered Mavericks. One may have seen the movement, but that would forever be left in question. Deluge squeezed the trigger and his weapon jerked in his firm grasp. The three-round burst of adaman bullets passed well over the two targets, instead striking the central barrel of propellant in a group of three. The heater fuel went off instantly, taking the other two barrels with it. The resulting explosion seemed on par with the one Castle had just caused. The two Mavericks were seen hurtling through the air before the energy of the blast caught up with them. Deluge saw both bodies land, and he loosed three-round bursts into each of them, just in case.

            Immediately afterwards, Castle's second missile flew through the air and landed in the already burning second level of the shed. Immediately the level caved in, and the radar antenna with it, all vanishing into a roaring flame that soon died down, though not by much, and burned well into the night.

            "Team Bravo report!" Castle said, five seconds after impact.

            "Bravo Three has no target."

            "Bravo Four has eliminated both remaining targets. No target remaining."

            "I'm cool," Brant Everett said simply, from his spot right next to Castle.

            "Stand by and make sure," Castle ordered, though he knew that they couldn't wait long. Thirty seconds after the second blast, Castle deactivated his S88 and packed it back in the equipment case he'd carry on his back. "Team Bravo, pack up. Team Alpha," he said, switching frequencies, "Team Bravo has completed its mission. Request permission to retreat to rendezvous point."

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            Damia summed up her targets and wondered briefly where Acrystos was hiding. She'd gotten used to not being able to find her own squad mates, so good were they at hiding themselves. Still, sometimes it would help her judgment to see exactly how far away one of her soldiers was from an enemy.

            "Alpha Four, are you ready to attack?"

            "You bet, Alpha One."

            "Alpha Two, Alpha Three, what is your situation?"

            "I've got three Mavericks on the porch," sniper Henry Wallace reported back. "I can probably take two down before they know what's going on. I don't know about the third one."

            "Alpha Three?"

            "We might want to have Henry take out one or two of the varmints before I shoot," rocketeer Peter Stromm recommended. "I'll fire soon as he does, and if he can take down another before the fire starts, good for him. Maybe the impact'll disorient the third bastard long enough for a three-peat."

            "Also be advised there are at least two Mavericks in the shed," Wallace reminded them. He wasn't all that worried about his shots alerting the enemy…his rifle was silenced, after all. Still, if one of the guys inside happened to look out a window at the wrong time and see his buddy go down, all they had to do was punch an alert button and the Seraph Castle defenses would be ready for Taggart when he came.

            "Copy that." Damia considered her options, making her decision quickly. "Acrystos and I are gonna get this party started. Wait till I give you the order. Wallace, take the first shot. Stromm, fire as soon as the bastard goes down."

            "Copy," Alphas Two and Three responded at once.

            Castle would be starting his attack right about now, Damia thought. Sure enough, a low thunder seemed to resonate throughout the nearby mountains, perhaps carried to them by the relentless icy wind. "Acrystos, rise and approach. We are weapons free."

            Acrystos took a deep breath and rose slowly from the snow that had been her shield. The wind was picking up, and it tossed her cloak sharply behind her, but the flapping was drowned out by the shrill wind, and there was enough snow flying that she could legitimately hope that the Mavericks would take the cape for snow in the wind. She approached quickly yet cautiously, keeping her assault rifle raised and leveled at the chest of her first target. She was approaching from the right flank, and Damia would be coming in from the center.

            Damia was doing just that. She moved much the same way Acrystos did, only she was even less conspicuous due to her slight build. Unit 8's commander didn't trust the wind enough to line up a headshot, and so she too focused on the chest of the rightmost of the three Mavericks…the one leaning on the machine gun. Gunsmiths had finally learned how to properly silence assault rifles without compromising aim, and she blessed this as she steadied her nerves and fired a three-round burst of adaman bullets at her target. The clack of the rifle's slide was more audible than the actual shot, and that was completely drowned out by the wind. Even if the Mavericks had turned to look, there was nothing they could see but flying snow, and there was nothing they could hear, either. Thus, they never knew what hit them.

            The Maverick by the machine gun felt like he'd been dealt a murderously hard punch. Large holes appeared suddenly and inexplicably in his armor, traveling clear through his body. Two of the bullets ruptured his generator, and it destroyed his torso in a violent explosion.

            The Maverick to the left saw his friend go down and his first conscious thought was to spin around and figure out what had just happened. It hadn't even registered that the man had been shot, so sudden was the incident. The Maverick would never learn the truth, since two of Acrystos's bullets transfixed his chest and another found its way between his eyes, something Acrystos hadn't planned for but wouldn't complain about.

            The third Maverick was the only one to realize what was happening, and he raised his weapon probably to fire off into the distance at targets he could not see. Acrystos was turning just as soon as she loosed her first burst, and saw the startled sentry raising his weapon. She was shooting even before the thought registered in her head, and the automatic nature of her attack brought back many memories. This whole mission reminded her so much of her days working undercover for Aegis, usually behind enemy lines, during the Repliforce war. There, quick wits and automatic responses to threats had kept her alive and ticking, and had brought her enemies to quick ends. Such was the case with this Maverick, who fell with two bullets in his abdomen and one right in the center of his generator.

            Damia and Acrystos raced across the snowfield and huddled among the boxes of ammunition, watching for other threats that may have come in response to their recent action. Before long Damia stood and rested her rifle on a box of ammo, looking through the scope at the road ahead to see if any of the Mavericks on the porch had seen their action. They were waiting for someone, it looked like. Well, whoever they were waiting for, they would soon find Unit 8, she thought, and it would be their last discovery. "Team Alpha, attack." She turned to Acrystos and surveyed the ammo crates. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

            Acrystos had been examining the downed robots, making sure that they really were out of commission. She looked up at her commander and nodded. "Sabotage?"

            "I don't think we should leave the Mavericks anything they can use," Damia agreed, turning back to the scene ahead while Acrystos removed her pack from beneath her gray cape and recovered the charges she'd been issued before the mission began. Damia examined the machine gun, noting that a full string of large adaman bullets—more commonly called Armor Renders—had been loaded before their arrival. She noted a nearby box of ammo, and glanced back at the scene ahead as the battle unfolded. She stepped to the ammo box and dragged it over to her, and then settled herself in near the machine gun, lining up her sights.

            Acrystos saw her. "Boss, you gotta be kidding."

            "I said we were gonna get this party started," Damia responded with an easy grin. "I wasn't lying."

____________________

            "Team Alpha, attack," Wallace and Stromm heard on their communicators. They glanced at each other and received nods. It was time. Wallace already had his sights lined up and the distance marked. He steadied his hands, fighting off the chill, and inhaled deeply and slowly.

            Cordan the snow fox looked to Firs and Largo, who were shivering and uncomfortable. He, too, felt that something was wrong, but he was not about to look weak in front of these humanoids. Where the hell was Gerritt? On his way back, for sure, Cordan thought. Who would want to stay out there any longer than they had to?

            Firs tilted his head slightly to look at the ammo dump in the distance. He couldn't make anything out with all the snow, but he did see something, and that reassured him. It was always nice to have a machine gun to guard their flank. The humanoid turned back, wondering how much longer they'd have to wait in this cold until—

            Cordan was turning to face him when the fox's head seemed to shred itself. The face opened up and black coolant spurted out like a geyser. The suddenly headless Reploid fell to the ground in a lifeless heap. Firs froze at the sight, totally unprepared for and horrified by what he saw.

            Largo's characteristic nervousness paid off, and he sprang into action first. He leapt at Firs and dragged the stunned humanoid back towards the shed, foiling Wallace's aim, but that didn't matter, because—

            The S88 missile impacted the roof of the shed, and the radar antenna actually launched into the air like a rocket, landing in shambles along the road to the ammo dump. The roof burst into flames and collapsed immediately, spraying the lower levels of the small shed with flame and shrapnel.

            It was Largo's turn to be horrified. He and Firs were taken aback by the impact above them, and both froze temporarily. Wallace got a bead on Firs and depressed his trigger. Hans and Tortal burst out of the door, ramming the two humanoids hard. "Move!" Tortal shouted, drowning out the sound of Wallace's round slamming harmlessly into the wooden porch. Hans saw the splinters, though, and after seeing Cordan's body he knew right away that there was a sniper about.

            The four Mavericks fled the porch and raced down the road towards their ammo dump, not about to head down the winding road Gerritt was still on for fear that the Hunters were there waiting for them. At least by their ammo dump they had a machine gun, and could be safe—

            The sound reached them even before the sight. The machine gun blasts sent a tremor through the air that stopped Hans in his tracks even before he saw the yellow light of the tracers. "No, no!" the humanoid shouted in panic. "We're not them, we're not—" His right arm came off at the shoulder, and his chest and generator ruptured before he had time to scream, and he died thinking that his own people had mistaken him for the attacking Hunters.

            The tracers seemed nonstop and were spread throughout the somewhat narrow path. There was no place for the Mavericks to run except back to the sniper's domain, which all preferred to the madness of the machine gun attack. Firs turned to run but something that felt rather like a train hit him in the back and flipped him forward through the air. Four more shots hit him during his flight and he touched down in a mangled heap of exposed circuitry and shredded metal. Tortal was heavily armored and thus the slowest of the bunch. He hadn't gotten as far as the others when the shooting began, but he was in contrast the slowest to retreat back into "safety". Damia landed two shots in his shelled back, and seeing him stagger she concentrated her Armor Renders on him. Tortal fell heavily to the ground and lay there while Damia continued to spray him, though his shell absorbed most of the damage.

            For her part, Damia was feeling rather mighty. The machine gun trembled like a jackhammer in her hands, but she kept a firm grip and delivered what she thought was the proper death to the people who wanted to reinstate nuclear weapons as a viable way to fight a war. Acrystos busily set charges on ammo boxes, and stopped once to watch her commander in action. She was a bit taken aback by the brutality of the attack, but she remembered that she, too, had made use of these mounted weapons, and at the time she wouldn't have traded them for anything in the world. "Have fun, Damia," she whispered, her words drowned by the wind and the machine gun's roar.

____________________

            Neither of them had noticed Gerritt standing at the mouth of the trail with trembling knees and wide eyes. The raccoon had heard the sounds of battle and immediately made a break for the ammo dump. There was no safety at the radar station, he thought. The ammo dump had a machine gun to guard it, and he'd heard it in action as he made his approach. The sound had reassured him at first, but now he saw that it wasn't his people who were manning the weapon. Two figures in gray capes were at the ammo dump, and one was firing the machine gun towards screaming forms that had to be Gerritt's comrades from the shed. He thought he could make out a body pushed to the side of the dump, and that clinched things for him.

            The Maverick didn't know what to do. He had two probable Hunters in front of him, winning the battle even before it had really begun, and they didn't see him. However, if they had been good enough to approach undetected, what was to guarantee that Gerritt would make it in close enough to open fire? No, that wouldn't work. What, then?

            And then the Maverick did the best thing he could possibly have done: he radioed in to headquarters.

____________________

            "Radar 2 this is Seraph," Diavus said from the command center of Seraph Castle.

            "We're under attack," a small, shaky voice came in, all but drowned by the wind and…something else.

            "Repeat that, Radar 2."

            "We're under attack!" Gerritt fairly shouted. "Radar base 2 is under attack!"

            "Shit," Diavus breathed, now able to make out machine gun fire in the background. "What's your status?"

            "Hell, I don't know! They took the ammo dump, they're on the machine gun…there were explosions, I haven't seen the base yet!"

            "Settle down, settle down. Where are you now?"

            "Mouth…mouth of the cache trail. I'm at the mouth of the cache trail!"

            "Good. Stay there, don't move, don't attack, don't let them get to you. Find someplace to hide and wait this out. God damn," he added after he broke the connection. Then, switching to another castle frequency, Diavus dialed the security boss. "Bit, we have a problem."

____________________

            Hide and wait? Hide where? The Hunters were coming up from behind him, and there were sure as shit enemies in front of him, and who knew what would be on the sides? Gerritt's mind lost its sense of reason. He looked up at the two Hunters, who still hadn't acknowledged him, and then to the standard issue assault rifle he carried at his side. He would probably die here, he realized. No matter where he went, the Hunters would storm this place, and he would die. He would die just like his brother, cut down by Hunter bastards who didn't give a damn about anything except what the humans told them to do. Well, he'd be damned if he didn't die doing something to these pricks who had shattered his life and hunted him like a dog. Resolved, Gerritt raised his rifle and charged out into the storm, heading towards the ammo dump like a bat out of hell. His footsteps were masked completely by the roar of the gunfire and the howl of the wind, like so many other things that night. One Hunter was on the machine gun, and the other was doing something to the ammo crates. This one looked up to watch her friend on the gun. Women, Gerritt saw. He locked onto the one on the machine gun and thought, Bitches.

            Acrystos was mesmerized for the moment by the memories revived by the machine gun attack when she first noticed that something was wrong. Something was whizzing by her, and it wasn't wind. Then the machine gun stopped after its maybe thirty seconds of activation, and Damia slumped to the ground, and the white earth was suddenly tainted by black Reploid blood.

            Acrystos sprang into action automatically, as usual. She leapt from the area of the ammo crates, hoping to draw the hidden enemy's fire. The worst-case scenario, she thought, was for one of those bullets to hit an ammo crate that she'd just mined, and start an explosion that would incinerate Damia and probably Acrystos with it. Her rifle went up and she fired a burst in a random direction. As she had hoped, the attacker responded with bursts in her direction, telling her his location. She still couldn't quite make him out due to the damned blizzard, but as she danced around she saw that his shots no longer fell into a set pattern; he was just shooting wildly, hoping to take her down with a wide spread. It didn't work that way, Acrystos thought to herself, running carefully from side to side and slowly closing in on the Maverick. Finally she could make out his outline…he was a raccoon, she saw, and he looked just as scared as the other Mavericks had been.

            Her plan was to keep Gerritt busy while she put herself in a position to attack. Unfortunately, Gerritt gave up just seconds before she locked on. He figured that if he hadn't taken her down by now he was in deep trouble, and made a break for it, disappearing back into the trail. Acrystos saw and gave chase with fury…this prick had shot down her commander, after all. She rounded a snow hill and looked down the trail, which was rapidly filling with more snow, and saw the raccoon disappear over a mound of white powder, leaving the trail and the radar base behind.

            "Dammit!" she said aloud, wanting to give chase and destroy this flea-ridden bastard for what he'd done, but knowing that her unit needed her more, and her commander in particular. Acrystos dashed back to the machine gun, running as fast as she could in the snow, and found Damia sitting up against a crate.

            "What…happened?" Unit 8's commander asked in a labored voice.

            "I screwed up," Acrystos said, kneeling to examine Damia's wounds. Indeed she had screwed up. She should have been checking the area while Damia worked on the machine gun. Why had she forgotten to look? Nice one, Miss Professional, she chastised herself, hoping that this blunder wouldn't cost her commander her life. That issue was up for debate, she saw. Everyone in Aegis had some skill in medical practice, and though Unit 8's official medic was Brant Everett, Acrystos knew enough of what she was doing to evaluate her commander's chances. Damia had two holes in her side, low enough that her chest generator hadn't been hit, but the shots had tunneled in deep, and who knew how far into her abdomen they'd penetrated? They had to be solid bullets, Acrystos knew. There were no exit wounds, and lasers went right through their targets. Adaman bullets might well have snapped Damia in half, but these were not adaman bullets. They were probably the cheap variant that the Mavericks got from supporters in Steel Alley.

            "What's going on?" Damia asked again, referring to something different this time.

            "It sounds like it's over," Acrystos responded after a moment. She'd been so into her brief battle and then her examination of her commander—and good friend—that she hadn't paid attention to the sounds of the combat coming from up ahead. The last she'd seen, Damia had taken out another humanoid—Largo—and then the raccoon had started shooting. The shed was burning and collapsing…it appeared that Stromm had done his job.

            "Check," Damia weakly gasped out the order. Acrystos activated her communicator to do so.

____________________

            Tortal had gotten to his feet when the shooting stopped. He didn't know what was going on, but he wasn't one to question luck. His shell was destroyed, he knew, but while he was battered and bleeding he was still alive. He had to get back to the shed. Maybe he could hide there. He sure as hell couldn't hide back at the ammo dump. The trail, he realized. He could hide on the patrol trail, and maybe find Gerritt…Gerritt was still out there, wasn't he?

____________________

            Peter Stromm raised his reloaded S88 and locked onto the lower level of the radar shed. He watched as the turtle Reploid limped back towards the shed. The machine gun idea had been a nice touch, he thought. Why had Damia stopped? Oh well. That wasn't his concern. The S88 beeped and Stromm moved his finger to the trigger. He recalled as the weapon shuddered in his grip that the Mavericks had used RPGs in their Sub-City 3 ambush. "See how you like it, you sunzabitches," Stromm muttered, watching his rocket fly, a black shape in a night lined with white wind. The projectile hit the wall and exploded as it passed through, all but disintegrating the wood frame of the shed and bringing everything crashing down. Shrapnel sprayed the turtle and the shockwave sent him onto his ruined back.

            Henry Wallace centered his sights on the turtle's head. In doing so he had to view the rest of the Maverick's body, and he figured he was doing the guy a favor. He almost felt sorry for the enemy, but remembered what the Mavericks wanted to do to Megacity 5, and his pity ended as he pulled the trigger.

            "Team Alpha, report," Wallace and Stromm heard a minute later.

            "Mission accomplished," Stromm reported.

            "No further targets," Wallace confirmed, before asking the obvious question. "Where's Damia, Acrystos?"

            "She's down," Alpha Four responded, somewhat sheepishly, and the other two jumped at the news. "She took a few shots to the side, and the shells are still swimming around in her belly somewhere."

            "Shit," Stromm observed. "You need help?"

            "Yeah," Acrystos responded. "Call X and tell him to have a medic ready when the 17th gets to our rendezvous point. Then call Signas and tell him to send in the Ravens."

            "Can do," Stromm acknowledged. He was also in charge of the distance radio. Before he could begin his transmission, his communicator beeped again.

            "Team Bravo has completed its mission," Castle's voice said. "Request permission to retreat to rendezvous point."

            "Acknowledged," Stromm replied. "Make sure Everett is ready with his tools. The Commander took a few hits."

            "Jesus," Castle said without thinking. "She alive?"

            "For now. Let's hurry."

            "Yeah," Castle said, switching off his communicator and looking at Brant Everett. "Damia's hit. You may have to stabilize her when we reach the rendezvous point."

            Everett blinked and nodded. To his knowledge his commander had never taken a hit, at least not on a sneaking mission. Was this some kind of bad omen?

____________________

            In Hunter Headquarters, Alia got the message and immediately conveyed Stromm's request for a medic to X's 17th, which would reach the rendezvous point with Unit 0 before the other units closed in. Then she switched frequencies and contacted Signas on his direct line. "Commander Signas, sir! Unit 8 has neutralized both radio stations."

            "Roger that," Signas replied from his own post near Dr. Cain and Caligula. "Jimmy," he said after switching his own frequency. "Commence your attack."

            "Copy that," James Taggart responded in Raven 15, and then sent a message of his own.

____________________

            Bit and Byte had never moved so fast in their lives. Mavericks rushed to man their posts at the antiaircraft guns that lined the outer upper deck of Seraph Castle, and many who did not have guns to command used shoulder mounted RPGs. They lay in wait, knowing that the squad of Ravens would come soon, but not knowing when, now that their radar had been crippled. Nevertheless their readiness would surprise the Hunters, who did not know that Gerritt had gotten an alert off.

            A Maverick decked out in gray armor leaned against his own antiaircraft gun. He was not as nervous as his comrades. He'd seen an air raid already, and figured he could easily handle another one. This was the same Maverick who had opened fire on Alec Tremont on his reconnaissance mission, and his name was Optim. He watched the horizon and waited in anticipation. There would be plenty of targets, he was sure, and wanted nothing more than to down an enemy plane.

            Bit's final stop was to the security command post, where he activated all of Storm Eagle's sky eye drones. Maybe they would crash into one of the Hunter jets, Bit reasoned. Meanwhile, Byte fetched the key to the roof SAM battery and rejoined his brother at this spot. They keyed the proper controls and the launcher came to life.

            "Missiles!" Bit called out, and Mavericks went to fulfill their task. They would have a full supply, Bit promised himself. There was no way the Hunters would catch them unawares, not after all their careful preparation. He wished that they'd activated that second SAM battery, but there just hadn't been the time. They'd have to rely on this one again, though it had served them rather well last time, Bit reminded himself.

            Mortar appeared shortly afterwards, though he did nothing but observe. He had a vague feeling that he was putting himself in much more danger than was necessary, but at this point he was curious as to what a ground-to-air battle would be like. And so he stood and watched and waited, wondering what he would see.

____________________

            Eleven Raven jets congregated above the mountain trails and sped forward through the night. Visibility was low with blizzard and lack of daylight, but pilots relied more on computers than sight nowadays. They had hovered in this area for quite a while, assisting the ground troops when needed, and taking out pesky Maverick encampments when they found them. Now, their real mission was about to begin.

            James Taggart hadn't been in a flight mission in too long. He savored the thrill of flight even now more than he had upon takeoff. They'd refuel in shifts after the castle bombardment and continue to maintain their perimeter. Now they sped in a group towards Seraph Castle. Taggart figured that the Mavericks would suspect some kind of aerial attack, but there was no way for them to know when if those radar bases were gone.

            It didn't take long to get into position. The Ravens reduced their speed somewhat and waited until they passed the proper coordinates. Then the group split up and the jets drifted away to take out their assigned targets.

____________________

            "I've got a number of targets here, sir," the Maverick manning the SAM battery reported.

            "Fire!" Bit ordered, and the Maverick did just that. The launcher spewed out its cluster of missiles, and again they streaked through the night like little comets. They wound up spreading apart as they neared the dividing cluster of jets, with each missile acquiring a different target.

____________________

            But this time the Hunters could shoot back. Taggart took the lead, and focused his Vulcan cannons at the oncoming missiles. The rapid-fire weapons flared repeatedly and after a second the missile headed for Taggart's jet exploded prematurely due to the huge bullet's impact. The aerial commander continued shooting at the other missiles, though he didn't down any others.

            He didn't have to. Tremont shot down the one headed his way, and another that was headed towards Raven 8. Raven 4 took out another, and that was the end of the first Maverick attack.

____________________

            Not that it discouraged them. "Reload!" Bit shouted. "Reload now!"

            "They're getting closer," Byte pointed out.

            Bit spat a curse and left the SAM battery, headed now to the antiaircraft cannons. "Weapons free, Mavericks! Kick their asses outta the sky!"

____________________

            They were more prepared than he'd expected, Taggart thought, bringing Raven 15 around to the right side of Seraph Castle. It didn't matter. Taggart selected his Sidewinder variant and quickly locked onto his individual target—the SAM battery that had killed his airman, Delgado. He swerved his jet to the side to avoid the tracers sent by one of the antiaircraft guns, and pulled up to get a final target lock.

____________________

            Optim didn't recognize Raven 13—they all looked alike—but its pilot definitely recognized him. Alec remembered Optim's lasers passing below his jet, and wondering when the dumb Maverick would raise his cannon and thus end Alec's life. It had never happened, nor now would it ever. Alec sent a hail of gunfire at the Maverick and his post. Optim jumped, unused to being attacked, and his attack halted briefly. Alec sped past him and doubled back, selecting his Sidewinder and turning to face his target. His targeting computer gave him a confirmative beep and he pressed the proper button.

            Optim had used the lull to realign his targets. He pressed his own triggers and the large laser cannons roared, but Alec simply pulled away to the right…and yet, something was still speeding towards Optim. The gray Maverick swerved his guns in its direction, frantically hoping to stop that menace before it reached him, but in doing so he only hastened his own doom.

            The miniature Sidewinder hit the antiaircraft guns and exploded with far more force than an S88 missile ever could muster. Optim was disintegrated almost instantly, and his mounted weapon along with him…indeed, a chunk of the castle roof was now gone, and a huge plume of flame and smoke rose into the sky.

            Alec watched this and was satisfied. "And that, you jackass," he said to the now nonexistent Maverick, "was for Carlos." Then he pulled up and regrouped, heading back to his own rendezvous point.

____________________

            Byte saw Raven 15 approaching and he began to panic. The entire castle shook whenever a Sidewinder hit an antiaircraft cannon, and it looked like a missile under this Raven's wing was heating up.

            "Fire!" the big Maverick shouted.

            "We're not fully loaded," his assistant protested.

            "Then run!" With that Byte threw up his hands and ran for his life, wisely followed by the two terrified SAM operators.

            They ran not a moment too soon. James Taggart sent his Sidewinder seconds later, and it hit dead on target, igniting not only itself but the extra SAM missiles that Bit had called for. The resulting explosion was terrific, and removed much of the exterior armor covering of that corner of Seraph Castle. Every standing Maverick fell to their knees, and the advancing Ravens had a party, opening fire with their Vulcan cannons and sending in their final Sidewinders.

____________________

            Bit's first conscious thought was to find his brother. When he did he stopped in shock; Byte's armor was charred and in some cases totally broken, and one of the two Mavericks who followed him was missing an arm and half of his face. The sight totally disillusioned the surviving Mavericks, even as another Sidewinder hit and destroyed the final antiaircraft cannon and shook the base once more. Miraculously, Seraph Castle's reinforced skeletal structure held, and the fort did not collapse inward on itself. The Ravens were not big enough to carry missiles powerful enough to totally neutralize Seraph Castle, but they could punch holes in it, for sure, and punch they had. Now Mavericks ran every which way, shouting random curses, screams, or rants as they evacuated from the roofs. Mavericks dropped their RPGs after realizing that it was futile to keep shooting—unlike S88s, the RPGs did not lock onto their targets.

            "Stand and fight!" Bit shouted at the top of his robotic lungs. "Cowards! Don't abandon your posts!"

            "What the hell can we do?" Byte asked, coughing. "They completely destroyed us, Bit!"

            "He's right," a new voice said, with surprising power despite the circumstances. Bit and Byte turned to face Mortar, who was collecting himself after being spilled onto the floor. It looked like a round had scratched his arm, and given the size of the rounds, the scratch was more of a big bloody gash. The fire of battle had not gone out of his steely eyes and wizened face, but reason prevailed over madness and he gestured to the doors leading into the relative safety of Seraph Castle's internal corridors. "We're no match. Retreat immediately." Then he was gone, headed to the door he'd just pointed out.

            "God damn it!" Bit swore, invoking a god he didn't worship.

            "He's right," Byte said simply, and with that the big Reploid stomped towards the door. Bit glared at the jets, which were coming around to cover the roof a second time. Then even his resolution gave way to fear and he made a break for it, rushing into the door and sealing it behind him, so the Hunters wouldn't be able to send a missile through it, if that were possible. Unfortunately this act prevented the few Mavericks still on the roof from escaping, and the Hunters were not in a merciful mood. The Ravens flew over the roof of Seraph Castle, spraying it with gunfire and eliminating the cowering Mavericks. Some despaired completely and leapt from the roof, plummeting to a death of no less finality but at least of their own choosing.

____________________

            "Ravens report," Taggart said after the second pass. His individual pilots responded positively, and, satisfied that all targets were taken out, Taggart ordered a retreat. The eleven Ravens clustered again as they left Seraph Castle in their wake, and as per the plan five of them returned to Hunter HQ for refueling while the other six orbited the Maverick Palace and kept constant vigilance. Any projectile that entered the air would be dealt with using the most extreme prejudice. Alec Tremont led the returning group, and James Taggart held command of the second.

____________________

            "Jesus, Mortar!" Malevex breathed, surveying the arm wound, and then getting a look at Byte. "How bad?"

            "No chance," Bit answered bitterly. The outer defense had been his responsibility, and he had a right to feel bitter about his failure. Still, he could hardly be blamed for the said failure. Malevex himself couldn't figure out a way to stop those Ravens, except maybe for more SAM batteries, which they simply did not have. "Those bastards came like the hosts of hell, and…well, you felt the tremors!"

            "Fortify our internal defenses," Mortar suggested. "And get the plan in motion. We have to get the Hunters out of here. We stand absolutely no chance against all of them!"

            "Get yourselves cleaned up," Malevex said to Mortar and Byte. "Get me a casualty estimate," he said next to Bit, who nodded resignedly. Malevex departed them and headed to the castle command chamber. He punched in the proper code and reached the proper authority figure. "Outer defenses have fallen, sir. I need permission to put the plan in motion."

            "It's already begun," Sigma's calm voice responded. "Secure the wounded and get them the help they need. Chances are they may have to fight again. Don't worry about the Ravens," he added, sensing his soldier's chief fear. "They can't do any more than they've already done. The Hunters have had their fun…now it's time for us to have ours," Sigma finished coldly, and broke the communication.

            "And I bet I know what that means," Malevex said to himself, tilting his head in the direction of Zero's chamber. The Maverick raised his head to the ceiling and inhaled deeply, calming himself down. Weak as they were compared to some other world armies, the Hunters were so much the superior of the Mavericks as far as sheer power went, and Mortar was right. They would never survive unless they got rid of the Hunter host. Well, they had the right tool for that, Malevex thought as he placed his future with finality in the hands of Gredam and Gallagher.