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Chapter 40

The cockpit of Jackie Stewart’s Sherman was a fortress, its reinforced walls and glowing control panels a stark contrast to the chaotic landscape outside. The air inside hummed with the energy of the Mercedes two hundred KW reactor, the rhythmic pulse of power steadying her nerves. Outside, the rugged terrain stretched endlessly, dotted with jagged rocks and dry brush. The convoy below moved steadily along the cracked road, a line of heavily armored transports flanked by enemy mechs.

Through her HUD, Jackie could see them clearly now—four transports and an escort of seven mechs. Unlike her team’s Goblins and Grants, the enemy mechs were brutish and angular, their shapes reminiscent of jagged rocks pulled from the earth. They were heavyset, with thick armor plating and spindly weapon mounts. The enemy had no finesse, no elegance—just raw, brute strength.

Jackie keyed her comms. “Harland, Torres, report.”

“Convoy in sight,” Harland’s voice crackled, his Goblin weaving between the rocky ridges that provided their cover. “Four transports, seven escorts. Escorts are big, ugly brutes. Heavy hitters, for sure. They’re sticking close to the transports.”

Jackie’s lips curled into a tight smile. “Perfect. Goblins, you’re the tip of the spear. Hit the escorts hard and fast—scatter their formation. Grants and Shermans, we move once they’re disoriented. Take out the transports first. Leave the heavies to us.”

Her HUD flickered as telemetry streamed in from her team, red markers painting the map. Jackie’s Sherman stood ready, towering behind the smaller Goblins and more compact Grants. She tightened her grip on the controls, her mind sharpening as she visualized the coming attack.

“Execute on my mark,” she ordered. “Let’s make this quick.”

"Engage,” Jackie commanded.

The first shots came from Harland’s Goblins, their plasma cannons lighting up the horizon with streaks of molten energy. The lead enemy mech—a towering, bipedal unit the team had nicknamed a **Mangler** for its spiked fists and jagged shoulder plating—shuddered under the initial volley. Its armor held, but the barrage forced it to stumble back, exposing the transports behind it.

"Push forward!” Jackie barked, her voice cutting through the comms. “Disrupt their formation!”

The Goblins darted into the fray, their lasers slicing across the field as they targeted the enemy Manglers. Despite their speed, the Goblins had to stay nimble; the enemy mechs were slow but devastatingly powerful. One Mangler lashed out, its massive fist slamming into a Goblin mid-dodge, crumpling its frame like a tin can. The Goblin pilot didn’t have time to scream before the mech exploded.

“Harland, get your squad moving!” Jackie shouted.

“We’re on it!” Harland replied, his Goblin leaping over the wreckage of his fallen teammate. He targeted another Mangler, his small laser searing a line across its arm. The brute retaliated, its spiked fists slamming into the ground where Harland had been seconds before.

Jackie’s Sherman surged forward, its autocannons roaring to life. She fired a volley into the Mangler closest to the transports, the high-velocity rounds slamming into its chest plating. The brute staggered, sparks flying as its armor cracked under the assault.

“Grants, suppress those heavies!” she ordered. “Shermans, with me. Take out those transports.”

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

The battlefield erupted into chaos. Jackie’s Sherman lumbered down the ridge, its massive frame crushing rocks and debris as it advanced. Her targeting systems locked onto the nearest transport, a hulking vehicle covered in reinforced plating. With a flick of her wrist, she unleashed a salvo from her shoulder-mounted laser cannons, carving deep into the vehicle’s side.

“Transport’s disabled,” Jackie called, satisfaction creeping into her voice. “Keep them pinned down!”

Behind her, the Grants fired suppressive fire, their heavy weapons targeting the Manglers, who had begun to regroup. The enemy mechs moved with surprising coordination, forming a protective ring around the transports and returning fire with their rotary autocannons. One Grant hit its leg joint directly, collapsing with a deafening crash.

“Left flank’s collapsing!” Torres shouted. “They’re hitting us hard!”

Jackie swung her Sherman around, her autocannons locking onto an enemy mech advancing on the Grants. This one was different—sleeker than the Manglers but no less deadly, with long, spindly limbs ending in sharp blades. Jackie had seen these before. Her team called them Reapers, named for their brutal melee tactics.

The Reaper closed in on the downed Grant, its blade-like arms raised for a finishing blow. Jackie fired a burst from her autocannons, the slugs slamming into its torso and forcing it to retreat. “Grants, fall back to defensive positions. Goblins, keep their focus off the transports.”

Just as Jackie thought they had the upper hand, her sensors flared with new signals. Reinforcements. A second wave of enemy mechs appeared on the horizon—three more Manglers and a massive quadrupedal unit the team had yet to name. It moved like a tank, its heavy legs crushing everything in its path, and its back bristled with missile pods and energy turrets.

“New contacts!” Harland yelled. “They’ve got backup, and that thing looks nasty!”

Jackie swore under her breath. The Manglers and the quadruped were advancing fast, their weapons already firing. The Goblins scrambled to regroup, but a missile barrage caught one mid-leap. It exploded midair, raining debris over the battlefield.

“Focus on the transports!” Jackie barked, her voice tight with urgency. “Take them out and fall back! We can’t hold against those reinforcements.”

Her Sherman turned toward the remaining transport, its weapons locking onto the engine. She fired a precision volley, the lasers slicing through the vehicle’s rear plating. The transport shuddered to a halt, smoke pouring from its ruined frame.

“Final transport down,” Torres reported. “But we’re getting hammered here!”

The battlefield was a maelstrom of fire and smoke. The Manglers closed in on Jackie’s team, their spiked fists tearing through Goblins and Grants alike. Torres’ Goblin took a direct hit, the smaller mech crumpling under the brute’s strength. Harland’s Goblin was next, caught in a melee clash with a Reaper. Its blade-like arms pierced through his cockpit, ending the fight instantly.

“Harland’s gone!” someone screamed over the comms.

Jackie’s chest tightened, but she forced herself to focus. Her Sherman engaged the quadrupedal mech, its autocannons hammering into the beast’s legs. The shots dented its armor but didn’t stop its advance. It retaliated with a salvo of missiles, the explosions shaking Jackie’s mech and lighting up her HUD with damage warnings.

“Fall back!” Jackie ordered, her voice hoarse. “We’ve done enough. Pull out before they wipe us out.”

Her Sherman staggered as she turned to retreat, the ground trembling under the weight of the quadruped’s relentless advance. Around her, the surviving mechs disengaged, their engines screaming as they fled toward the rocky ridges.

When the dust finally settled, the battlefield was a graveyard of mechs and burning transports. Jackie’s team had destroyed the convoy, but the cost had been staggering. Half of her squad was gone, their mechs reduced to twisted husks.

Inside her battered Sherman, Jackie slumped back in her seat, exhaustion, and grief washing over her. Harland and Torres were gone, their Goblins nothing but wreckage. The victory felt hollow, the weight of their loss pressing down on her chest.

“Mission accomplished,” she said into the comms, her voice barely above a whisper. “Regroup and retreat. We’ll fight again another day.”

Jackie stared out at the horizon as her Sherman limped away from the battlefield, her jaw tightening with determination. Prescott’s defenders had put up a fight, but this was far from over. Next time, she vowed, there would be no survivors.