“Feels like our Wargame days all over again,” Nic said fondly.
“The game may have been stripped from the war, as it were,” said Maqsud, “but the Medusa remains a veritable checkmate nonetheless.”
“You know she’s itchin’ for a target right now,” Jarek chuckled. “I wanna see them Hexes pull that crap they tried on Telum and Argent. Where are those missiles this time?”
“They wouldn’t dream of it,” Perri said, relishing the power at her fingertips. “Even a Fodder knows it can’t hope to scratch a Medusa. And they have a whole fleet pointed at them now!”
Team Scarlet sat in the cockpit of an astrosteel-plated Medusa tank rumbling across the arid land of Copernicus. Perri was at the helm, as she always was whenever a vehicle was involved. The boys guarded the electro-locked hatch and kept their guns at the ready.
But Perri had the biggest gun of all at her disposal: the tank’s mounted railgun, capable of using electromagnetism to hurl an astrosteel slug with enough force to leave a blue mist where once there was a huddle of aliens. It was all kinetic energy, no explosives necessary. Team Scarlet’s tank was just one of many mobilizing on the planet’s Achilles armorsuit factory. With this kind of firepower, the Hexadians couldn’t hope to hold their captured territory for long.
The mystery remained as to why the invaders didn’t simply destroy the factory when they had the chance. Acid bombs were their weapon of choice to finish off an invasion; even with their ever-evolving biotech, their worst acid did nothing to astrosteel, but it could melt through lower-grade metals and materials like boiling water through tissue paper. A manufacturing facility like this factory couldn’t afford to be wall-to-wall astrosteel; the Hexadians must have been hoping to use it as a bargaining chip of some sort, Nic theorized.
Good luck, he thought coldly. We didn’t come to bargain.
Nic toggled through his helmet’s HUD from his current POV to the Medusa’s view of the factory a little over a hundred meters ahead. Nereus formations stood guard outside just like at the spaceport: a tall, brawny Commander, a Sharpshooter, and a gaggle of Fodders to each grouping. This time, the Sharpshooter’s precision spikes were worthless, like an archer facing down the mouth of a cannon.
“Medusa op—tors,” Welch said into the comms channel, breaking up. “RTIFIS will... and fire... first shot. Await... -tional orders.”
“You guys get all that?” Perri asked.
“Take your first shot,” Nic answered. “Then sit tight.”
She nodded uneasily. “That’s what I got, too. Just making sure.”
“Signal jammers,” Jarek sighed, shaking his head. “They gonna do this on every mission now or what?”
“No,” said Maqsud, “I’m sure the enemy will make it easier for us as the war progresses.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“That’s okay, Arty,” said Perri. “I’m sure they’ll get this signal loud and clear!” She swiveled the steering wheel, locking on, and pulled the trigger. A highlighted group of aliens displayed on the forward viewscreen dissolved in a fine blue mist.
She leaned back in the driver’s seat, satisfied. “I could get a lot more if Welch let me work my magic. They’re all just kind of standing there... doing nothing... What gives?”
“Target...” Welch was back, more distorted than ever. Nic got a sinking feeling when that screeching interference sound worked its way in under the signal. “...-ccessful. Y-… op-… the meantime. Platoo-… on my mark. Ping... confirm.”
“I got nothin’,” said Perri, looking up at Nic through her visor. “What’d he say?”
Nic shrugged. “I don’t know. We should wait to see if the signal clears up. Or check out what the other tanks are doing—maybe we can follow their lead.”
“More missiles?” asked Maqsud. “It couldn’t be. The enemy can be rash in their attacks, but are they that improvident? We’re impenetrable!”
“Uh... guys?” said Jarek warily. “What are those?”
Nic cycled his HUD to a splitscreen of the tank’s front and side cameras. From across the battlefield, dozens of dark brown blobs arced through the non-air and glommed onto the sides of their vehicles. They undulated and slithered slowly across the slick metal surface.
“Your guess is as good as mine,” Nic answered. “Nothing good, I’m sure.”
“Op-… will!” said Welch. His voice was distant, crackling, stuttering, and smothered under a layer of dissonant feedback screeching. “Repeat! The—” His next words were drowned out completely; only the blaring feedback remained. Nic muted the channel to spare his hearing.
“Fire at will?” Jarek suggested. “All I got was ‘will’ though.”
“Good enough for me,” said Nic. “Perri, take another shot!”
“Done and done!” She yanked the wheel and it didn’t budge. Yanked again. Nothing. She pulled the trigger—nothing happened. “Don’t tell me...”
“EMP?” Jarek gasped. “They don’t have—”
“They’ve already figured out how to jam our comms!” Maqsud cut him off. “It is no great technological leap to invent other forms of electrical interference. It must be those slug creatures!”
There were at least ten of them crawling across their Medusa. Blue-green bioluminescence shone from the inside out, illuminating networks of veins and internal organs. Their skin spat little bolts of electricity between them and along the metal exterior. Soon after, the cams went dark, as well as the interior lighting. Nic’s HUD switched to night vision mode.
“If they locked down our Medusas,” said Perri, “all of them... then we’re sitting ducks in here! What do we do?”
“Lieutenant Welch,” Nic said into his superior’s channel without unmuting it. “Our tank is compromised. Requesting permission to disembark!” When he unmuted the channel, it was just more gravelly screeching. He shut it off again. “Dammit. Lieutenant Welch—”
The roof hatch swung open. Nic jumped and grabbed the handle, slamming it shut again. He had a flashback to his first Wargame on Planet Gwher. We’re the opposite of locked down, he realized. “Electronic lock! They can get in now!”
Maqsud bolted and grabbed Nic’s free hand, pulling down with all his weight. The hatch opened just a crack, trembling in Nic’s grasp. He spied a second Commander peering in.
“We’re stuck,” Perri lamented, “and our only door is unlocked. It’ll be like shooting fish in a barrel for them!”
“Are we fish or ducks?” Jarek asked, pulling Max’s free hand.
“Is that really important right now?”
“Sitting ducks can fly away! Fish in a barrel, not so much!”
Maqsud cut in, grunting, “If I could interrupt... your antiquated zoological idioms... I think we... may have another visitor!”
The hatch opened all the way in one motion. Nic disengaged, reaching for the SMG strapped to his back.
A round, gourd-like object with bumps and ridges fell into the cabin.
An acid grenade.