Kharkiv, Ukraine

"This is Kharkiv Air Command! We have a situation!" The Ukrainian Colonel shouted frantically into the radio.

Aboard the EBT Queen Elizabeth, in England, European Union

The intercom system projected the Colonel's words into the cabin of Sir Lieutenant Marshal Derek Lanchester of the European Union Army. Lanchester picked up the radio, replying, "This is Sir Marshal Lanchester, what is the nature of your problem?"

"Enemy forces are attacking the airfield! We are being overrun as we speak!"

"What enemy forces, over?" Lanchester inquired, his voice as hard as steel.

"Pan-Asians! The Pan-Asians are invading Ukraine! There's a pair of Kirov-class Titans that's pinning our forces down!

Shite, thought Lanchester. "We will attempt to send backup, out!" He immediately decided to check up on some of the other major military stations between the EU and PAC.

"Fort Masada, this is Sir Lieutenant Marshal Derek Lanchester of the EU 10th Airborne Division, what is your status, over?"

"This is General Doron Bashevis of the Israeli Central Command! The PAC has sent troops into Israel and they are pushing forward! Our forces cannot fight back against such an overwhelming force!"

"We understand that there is a situation. We have gotten a similar report from another Airbase in Ukraine. Hold them off as long as you can, over!"

The intercom rang again. Two- then three- then four- then five calls, from Helsinki Naval Command, Mogadishu Titan base, Vilnius Army base, and even one from Darwin Sea Command.

It took a second for the grimness and reality of the situation to hit him.

"DAMN IT!" Lanchester screamed out loud. He took a second to get control of himself. Then he got to work.

"Gregory!" he shouted into the intercom. Seconds later, the associate in question ran into the room.

"Yes, sir?"

"I hope you got the news."

"What news, sir?"

"The god-damned PAC is invading! They've hit Karkiv, Tel Aviv, Mogadishu, Darwin, Helsinki, Vilnius, everywhere!"

"Damn..."

"Listen to me. The PAC's no doubt going to hit Minsk very, very soon. The Second Panzer Regiment is stationed there. They are to defend the city at all costs!"

"Sir, yes sir!"

Minsk, Belarus

"Hurry up! Move your arses!" The schweinhunds aren't going to wait for our tanks!" German Major Heinrich Romer barked to all the tank crews.

Friedrich von Kluge hurried as fast as he could to load the A-7 Puma with as many HETW shells as it could hold. He had counted fifty-five shells. Half-way there.

Five minutes later, he was at eighty-one shells.

Another five minutes: 107 shells. Three left.

After the final three had been loaded, he spoke up. "Sir Major! Our shells are loaded!"

"Well, what are you waiting for! Get into your tank and join those who actually worked with diligence!"

"Yes, sir." Friedrich climed into the hatch of his tank and powered up the electronics.

Thanks to 22nd century technology, a tank only needed to seat two to be fully operational. The driver's job was to, well, drive the tank, but he also had access to a Mortar launcher built into the turret that could be used if they tank remained stationary, so that the driver wouldn't be pressured with doing both tasks at the same time. The gunner sat next to the driver at the front of the tank and controlled both the Main turret, which had access to a 132mm Anti-Tank weapon and a 20mm Anti-infantry Co-axial cannon, and a third weapon, an 8mm machine gun mounted on top of the main turret that swiveled on it's own. The guns loaded themselves through special robotics technology, allowing the regular number of people in a tank to be halved. The newly-gained space could be used to store either more ammunition, gasoline, or create larger crew compartments for more comfortable conditions while driving, depending on the variant of the Puma.

"Jorg! Get in here!" Friedrich shouted.

Jorg Mueller was Friedrich's driver. The two had worked with each other for over 15 years. They knew eachother better than brothers.

Jorg climbed into the tank and started the engine. "So, what are we up against?" Jorg asked.

"Sir angry-pants said that there are BTR-4s, UAZ-8 Ocelots, the usual stuff."

Jorg chuckled.

"Meh, that's kinda boring. Anything interesting?"

"He also mentioned T-39 Bogatyrs."

Jorg's eyes lit up at that moment. "Now that's what I call a fight!"

"Don't get so happy. We're also up against two Kirov-class Titans: the PAT Vorschevsky and Noskov, as well as two Wuhan-class Titans, the PAT Kim Jong-Il and Mao Tse-tung."

Jorg grimaced. "Great. I hope we have something of our own."

"Yes. The EBT Queen Elizabeth, EFT Bastille,and EST Isabella of Castile are due here within a few hours. The entire Napoleon Bonaparte battlegroup has just departed from Barcelona to aid in the battle as well."

Jorg began to say something, before the radio interrupted him.

"This is Argon One. All units report in." Major Romer said over the radio.

"This is Argon Two, rolling smooth."

"Argon Three , ready for action."

"Argon Four here."

Friedrich's callsign was Argon Five. "Mister angry-pants," he said to Jorg, before clicking on the radio. "Argon Five, reporting in."

The last three tanks sounded off, before the Major issued his orders. "All units, fall in with Oxide convoy."

Jorg followed the major's orders, following the major's tank until the entire column blended in with Oxide convoy, a long line of AMV-2 Groundhog APCs, all carrying the German war flag. Friedrich opened the top of the tank and looked up to see a trio of US-built UD-12 Shepherds fly past. They kept flying towards city center. Suddenly, a bright blue streak flashed through the sky, striking the lead Shepherd's right engine and sending it spinning out of control. The two remaining Shepherds broke off in separate directions as an entire squadron of PAC Type 4 Doragons flew overhead in straight-flight mode, their gunners taking pot-shots at the convoy with their cannons. Friedrich quickly ducked down nd shut the hatch.

"Argon One, this is Argon Five, do we have permission to engage enemy aircraft?" Friedrich spoke into the radio.

"Negative! Negative! We are ill-equipped to take on gunships! Those schweinhunds will be easy pickings for our Anti-Air emplacements!"

As if on cue, Anti-Aircraft fire erupted from atop one of the skyscrapers, sending the PAC gunship crashing into the streets below.

Jorg seemed satisfied enough. Friedrich opened the hatch once more. He looked around, watching as the APCs unloaded their troops, each and every one of the soldiers bearing the logo of the Valkyrie Brigade on his helmet.

The radio squawked again. "All units, this is Argon One, break formation, we have reports of enemy units in the area."

"Yeah!" Jorg shouted. "Let's get those bastards!"

"Yes, Jorg, it's time for some- dare I say it- fun." Friedrich replied, as he shut the hatch once more.

"Oh, damn you Friedrick, you party-pooper!" Jorg retorted.

Friedrich sighed and shook his head. He understood that Jorg was joking, but he honestly didn't want to be here, cramped in the front of his A7 tank in Minsk during the PAC invasion. He wanted to be back at home with his wife, Eva, and his beloved children. For a second, he imagined just that. For a few seconds, he was at his home in Frankfurt. None of this was happening. None of it.

"Ocelots!" Jorg exclaimed. "Acquiring..." Friedrich snapped out of his trance.

Jorg swiveled the tank's turret with the right-side joystick in his seat until the muzzle of the tank's main barrel was aimed at the front of the UAZ-8 Ocelot. Jorg had to keep the turret moving to the right to stay on track with the Ocelot.

"Firing!" Jorg said, as he squeezed his right index finger on the trigger of the riight joystick, which activated the 20mm machine gun, sending a deadly burst of explosive rounds into the windshield of the Ocelot.

"Engaging the second one now!" Jorg said. He aimed the cannon at the second one. The Ocelot's gunner made a futile effort of trying to destroy the tank with the Ocelot's MMG. It did nothing.

Jorg pressed his right thumb down on the Joystick's red button. This fired the 132mm main gun, sending a High Explosive-Tandem Warhead shell into the side of the Ocelot, decimating it. The only salvagable wreckage was the left-rear wheel.

Friedrick opened his hatch to get some fresh air. He looked around and saw a pair of BTR-4 Romanovs.

"Jorg! Romanov just came knocking!" Friedrich exclaimed, quickly shutting the hatch as Jorg began to swivel the turret again.

When the Romanov entered Jorg's viewport, he added, "And he brought some little friends, too!" as he noticed that the Romanovs were unloading their troops. The Romanov's gunners subsequently unloaded it's 35mm grenade launcher on the A7, slowly eating away it's frontal NxRA.

Jorg was about to open fire on the BTR-4 when suddenly, a pair of Cyclone EH3 strike aircraft screamed past, unloading Armor-Piercing & EMP Rockets on the Romanovs, setting both ablaze.

"Well, that solves that problem." Friedrich said.

"It damn does! I'm engaging the infantry with the 8-mil!" Jorg shouted, much to Friedrich's dismay.

Two of the infantrymen carried Sudnik VPs. "Shit, we've got Sudniks!' Friedrich exclaimed.

"Got it!" Jorg said. He used his left hand to control the left joystick, which operated the 8mm MMG.

He squeezed his left index finger on the trigger, firing the 8mm MMG. It tore through the PAC troopers' body armor.

"Going for the second one!"

He aimed the MMG at the soldier. The soldier fired his Sudnik VP, missing the turret to the right.

"Shit, Jorg! Get the bastard!" Friedrich swore.

Jorg fired on the second Sudnik wielder before he could get off another shot.

"All main threats neutralized. I might as well mop up."

Jorg switched to the main turret and fired his main gun into the enemy forces, as well as the 20mm.

About a minute later, all of the infantry had been killed.

Friedrich clicked on his radio. "Argon One, this is Argon Five, we have engaged and destroyed two enemy Ocelots, as well as multiple Romanov dismounts."

"Understood. What about the Romanovs themselves?"

"Damn Cyclones got them before we could."

"Roger that. Proceed to engage any targets of opportunity. Out."

"Well. I hope we're done here." Friedrich said, before he sighed again.

"Not quite- Enemy Bogatyr spotted!" Jorg yelled. "Opening fire on it now!"

Jorg's thumb pressed down on the joystick's main button. This was used to fire the main cannon.

Just as Jorg fired the cannon, the Bogatyr activated it's Active Defence System, which created a forcefield around the walker, similar to the one created around a Titan, but much, much weaker.

"Schweinhund!" Jorg shouted, as the 132mm shell harmlessly slammed into the Bogatyr's forcefield.

Friedrich backed the tank up as the Bogatyr started sending it's rockets downrange towards the tank. Twice, a rocket struck the tank, shaking it, but the Non-Explosive Reactive Armour prevented the rockets from doing any damage to the tank.

"Friedrich! I'm going to deplete the shield with the 20mm!" Jorg said.

"You do that!" Friedrich responded.

Jorg squeezed the joystick's trigger with his index finder, firing the 20mm cannon at the Bogatyr. This depleted the shield fairly quickly.

"Brace yourself!" Jorg said as the Bogatyr fired another volley of rockets. Instinctively, Friedrick threw the tank into reverse. "That walker isn't going to get us today!"

"And they won't get us tomorrow either. Now steady, steady!" Jorg called out, as he pushed the joystick from left to right to try and get the perfect shot on the T39's cockpit. "Firing!" Jorg said. The shell fired, just barely missing the Bogatyr to the right. "Damn it, Friedrich! I told you to steady the Puma!"

Friedrich silently acknowledged him, stopping the tank.

"Alright, this one's for real. I make this shot, you owe me 75 Euros." Jorg said, as he put the money down on the small tray that sat between him and Friedrich.

"And if you miss," Friedrich replied, "Then I get the 75 Euros." he continued, as he placed his own money on the tray, making 150 Euros.

"Here we go." Jorg said. Unbeknownst to Friedrich, he had loaded a guided shell.

Just as Jorg yelled "Firing!", Friedrich floored the accelerator in an effort to deliberately make him miss. However, since the munition was guided, it immediately corrected course and slammed into the front of the Bogatyr, blowing it in half. The legs remained upright for a few seconds before they came crashing down with enough force to crush a man.

"How the-" Friedrich started.

"What?" Jorg said. "I guess I was just lucky."

"Damn." Friedrich was about to hand Jorg the money when he noticed his HDD display: '-Guided Shell - Loaded-'

"Damn you, Jorg!" Friedrich shouted. "Damn cheater!"

"What? Like you didn't try to deliberately throw me off target? That would've saved the lives of the Bogatyr crew, who probably would've killed us."

"Fair enough." Friedrich muttered, putting the money in Jorg's outstretched hand.