They were everywhere.

Explosions rippled across the surface of the asteroid as the armored mecha dove low, weaving along the cratered landscape in a desperate attempt to avoid the snaking trails of enemy weapons fire. Energy shields flared to life as a handful of projectiles found their mark, sparking ineffectually as they were vaporized. Commander Max Steel glanced at the flashing red indicators on his H.U.D., noting the hits and praising his forethought once again for equipping his Vanguard with the high end shielding. It may have severely limited his energy and ammo capacity but it had saved his ass more than once during the course of the battle, unlike the warped hunk of metal that floated in front of him as he sped forward.

Max slammed the controls, cutting his booster jets and correcting his forward momentum with a jerk of the right control lever, quickly sliding behind the wreckage of what was once a member of his squadron. The dead war-machine shook and dented as hyper kinetic rounds tore into the armor plating. With a primal scream Max leaned around the mass of durasteel and raised his rifle. A gout of flame erupted from the barrel as the weapon shuttered in the large blue-hued robotic hands, and in response, an enemy fighter craft exploded . Max raked a stream of tracer rounds across another line of aliens and a squadron of medium powered combat suits were ripped into glowing balls of white and orange light against the pitch black canvas of space.

"Shit!" Max swore as another squad appeared like ghostly apparitions flying through the cloud of debris from their fallen brethren. Multiple glowing flares flew free from each of their hunched backs indicating the launch of dozens of beer can sized mini-missiles. They streaked toward him, twisting and spiraling around as they locked onto his position. The Vanguard's threat indicators flashed across the screen and Max ducked behind the crumpled hulk once again.

"Warning ! Warning! Warning!" the onboard computer screamed at him.

"I know!" Max yelled back flicking off the blaring digitized voice as his fingers flew over the controls, flipping switches and releasing one of his two magnetic mines to lock onto his cover. Placing a massive armored boot on the metal corpse Max shoved, keying his engines for maximum thrust to send the ruined machine tumbling and bouncing toward the swarm of dancing missiles. Max fled. Trying to put as much distance between himself and the asteroid as he could. His eyes darted to his screen watching as the pint-sized pursuers altered course, locking onto his pulse signature. He braced himself as they passed over the wreckage, his thumb triggering the mines remote detonator.

The flash turned the Vanguard's screens white as the explosion blossomed outward, a globe of blinding phosphorous light expanding and just as quickly collapsing onto itself, before detonating again. The asteroid cracked and split under the enormous energy released, warping the fabric of space. The tiny missiles, so close to the blast's origin, seemed to all pop instantly before the wave continued, slamming into the mass of alien ships and combat suits that were swarming around Max's position. The lighter craft disappeared as quickly as the missiles had, the heavier fighters held on a bit longer, until their armor was sheared away and they too vanished in similar bursts of light.

The Vanguard's energy shielding flared, the fusion generator trying to compensate for the overload of damage washing over the fleeing mecha.

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"C'mon baby! Hold it together!" Max whispered through gritted teeth as he fought to keep from tumbling out of control, his engines screaming angrily, before suddenly going silent. Damage indicators and warning lights splashed across his monitors, lights flickering , view screens cracking, quickly plunging the cockpit into darkness as both the energy shielding and the first layer of his durasteel plating was stripped off of the sturdy combat machine.

Max took a breath, and held it, his guts twisting with tension.

The screens lit up as the reactor came back online, feeding power into starved systems, breathing life once more into the damaged suit. Max looked over the threat indicator, the screen slightly out of focus.

Max exhaled sharply as he read the digital display.

"Enemy forces in sector G7: NONE"

"What the fuck was that!" a scream came across the radio channel.

"Someone keyed a Devastator Mine," replied a somber almost sleepy voice. The cracked vid screen identified the pilots as Assblaster being the one who had cursed and the sleepy one as Ninja-riffic.

"How the hell they do that? ” Assblaster asked. “Don't they only lock onto Corvette or Larger ships? I haven't seen any in this mission."

"Usually, yes,” Max said keying open his comms-channel . “But they will also activate when attached to anything with an armor rating of ten and over. So that means any Vanguard wreckage on the battlefield. So I locked it onto that."

"I should have known it was you, Max." Ninja-riffic said with a chuckle. "But, I thought only Kurgan class mechas could equip and survive through a Devastators pulse wave. How did you make it through the blast?"

"A Vanguard can carry two D-mines. But it's usually a suicide mission if you try to use them. " Max smirked. "Believe me, man, my suit is seriously trashed right now. But at least I cleared my section."

"Balls of Steel, dude!" Assblaster laughed over the comms.

Max smiled as he leaned back in the seat. In the distance he could see flashes of explosions as the battle continued to rage. A blinking communications indicator light popped up on screen drawing his attention away from the view before Max could decide if he was going to attempt to fly over and aid another squad. He keyed it open and immediately frowned.

"Terry!” a shrill voice blared into the cockpit. “ It's nearly quarter past four, where the hell are you? Your father was expecting you to pick him up almost a half hour ago. You better not be on that damned game thing again! I swear if you don't get your head straight soon—"

"I was just finishing up some stuff, Mom." Terry replied, flicking off the voice modulator for a second. "I was literally just about to walk out the door." And then switching it back on again, Terry said, “Hey, listen I have got to run, like, right now. Got Mom aggro. My section is clear so you should have a straight run for the Queen. Can one of you guys make sure my kill count is logged?"

"No prob, Max." responded ReddLeader. "I will be on for the rest of the night so I can double check for you."

"Thanks, Redd. Alright, I'm out. Happy hunting guys and gals!"

A chorus of farewells chimed back moments before the neural connection was cut, and the rush of reality poured back. Terry sat up, the tight toned body of Commander Max Steel replaced by a soft, chubby frame. With a heavy sigh she rolled out of bed and grabbed her blue windbreaker from the chair along with a half eaten candy bar that sat on a cheap press-wood desk atop a pile of science fiction novels, fantasy figurines and random vid-game chips.

Terry shrugged on the slightly too big jacket and slipped from her room, hustling through the two story home and out the door to the driveway. Her mouth stuffed full of caramel and chocolate, she bound her dirty blond hair in a loose, messy ponytail and slid behind the wheel of her puke green Ford. The ethanol engine coughed to life as she swiped her finger over the ignition pad and glanced at the digital clock in the corner of her retina.

"Damn. Daddy's going to be pissed." Terry mouthed shaking her head as she backed the car out of the short driveway and sped down the road toward her next fight.