First Contact

Chapter Forty-Three (Ekret)

Ekret sat on the back of his tank, chewing on an empty ration tube, his palm turned up so his palm implant, which had only been put in a week before the attack happened, could display a wire-frame VR holo above his palm.

His unit had fought its way through the night. Getting close enough for his vehicle's upgraded scanners to spot the enemy then racing away. Positioning themselves to call in orbital strikes, artillery, close air strikes, or heavy bombing. Always moving, never stopping, never letting themselves get pinned down. Using their upgraded speed, their improved stealth, and their constant training to always be where the enemy didn't expect them and to never be where the enemy's fire was.

"So, I ordered you to scan that valley, not from the ridge, but from down inside the valley to prevent you from showing your profile to anyone on either side of that rise. I ordered you to use stealth drones in front of you at a range no further than one hundred meters," Ekret said, without taking his eyes from it. "Instead, you led an entire battalion of recon tanks up over the top of that hill, on top of the ridge, while running unstealthed drones at maximum speed into the valley."

The VR holo hissed, showing the Percursor fire ripping into the flanks of his men. Destroying a quarter of them before the lead vehicle turned and fled, turning its back to the Precursor. The other vehicles turned their rear to the fire and began to explode. According to the icons nearly thirty of the fifty light tanks had been destroyed without ever identifying what kind of Precursor force was in there.

Worse, the Precursors now knew that he knew they were there, and that he knew that they knew.

The drones had been wiped out. 108th Military Intelligence could guess at what was in that valley, but couldn't be sure.

Ekret didn't want to have happen to his men what had happened to Old Iron Feathers and mistake a Precursor vehicle for something else.

Clenching his fist and turning off the handy implant, Ekret turned in place, swinging his legs off the back of his tank, staring down on the ground. Sa'altlikk, the Third Most High, former CO of the 4th Light Armor Recon Battalion, was kneeling on the ground, all four of his legs folded underneath him. All four of his arms were bound painfully behind his back, and two of his six eyes were swollen.

"What happened, Sa'altlikk?" Ekret asked, still chewing on the empty ration tube.

"We were taking casualties! We had to withdraw!" the Lanaktallan protested.

"Rewind the holo a little bit. Why were you taking casualties?" Ekret tried.

"The enemy spotted us," Sa'altlikk moaned.

"Why did they spot you?" Ekret asked mildly, slowly drawing his sidearm.

"Their sensors must be better than we thought," Sa'altlikk said, his voice low and slow, all six eyes rolling in the sockets.

"Or, I don't know, could it have been you were silhouetted against the rising sun on top of a ridge I explicitly ordered you to stay away from?" Ekret asked.

Sa'altlikk's tongue came out and wetted his jowls and tendrils. "They must have spotted the drones?"

"You mean the high speed drones you used instead of the stealth drones I ordered?" Ekret said. He shook his head. "And then what did you do, instead of turning to face the enemy and backing off the ridge?"

"Our tanks go 22% faster moving forward than backward," the Third Most High tried.

"And your forward battle screens and armor would have ensured you survived the shots. Instead you ordered flank speed, which drains the battle screens, meaning each shot into your rear armor penetrated into interior spaces, as you had ordered the reactive armor disabled to, and I quote, save Corporate funds," Ekret said slowly. "Your decisions, from stop to finish, cost me thirty crews, experiences crews, beings I know personally, including your Executive Officer."

"We have replacements for the tanks. New crews can be drawn from a conscription order of the workers," Sa'altlikk answered.

"Welders and agricultural robot supervisors are not tankers!" Ekret snarled.

The Treana'ad are right, there's just something about the Terran snarl.

*"*Your ill advised decisions killed tankers," Ekret finished.

"There are a million more to take each one's place," the Lanaktallan said, repeating the line the UMF said as a way of instilling the knowledge that the UMF's legions were endless. "My cousin..." he tried.

"Is not here," Ekret said. He stared at the other officer. "That is three times, in a single day period, that you have displayed cowardice under fire."

"And? What will you do, Ekret? Send me back to the rear? I will just evacuate this pathetic dirt ball and leave you here to die facing the Precursors," The Lanaktallan answered. The bovine spit on the ground. "You dare not do..."

The pistol's retort was quiet compared to the thunder of the last few hours.

The hyper-velocity dart hit Sa'altlikk in the head, blowing it apart, dropping the Lanaktallan to the ground. One hoof kicked.

Ekret looked at the dead officer's crew. "Take command of your tank. We leave in ten minutes," he looked at the other gathered officers, noting the satisfaction on their faces, even the other Lanaktallan. "Cowardice has only one reward."

"It shall be done!" They all shouted, then turned as one and started toward their tanks.

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The tank jerked to the right, throwing Ekret hard against the command chair. The hypersonic rounds tore apart the trees behind him as the 150 ton bulk of his hovertank shattered the trees in front of him, the fans howling like damned souls.

Bouncy sent a tingle into his hands.

"Fire!" Ekret yelled unnecessarily as his gunner fired the main gun. Ekret knew that Bouncy had signaled the gunner to fire at the same moment as Ekret's hands had tingled.

"Shot out!" the gunner, Cheepeek, called out.

"Direct hit! Target killed!" Bouncy called out.

Sselssen yanked the tank into another dodge, bouncing deliberately off a bigger tree, the battle-screen exploding it into burning chunks. The hypervelocity shots tore apart a copse of trees instead of the tank.

"Got Trucker on the line!" Heslettek called out from the Com/EW/EMCOM spot.

"Ekret," the tank commander snapped.

"Trucker here, what have you got?" the Terran sounded stress.

"TARGET!" Bouncy yelled.

"Precursor heavy infantry with vehicles. No air support, no anti-aircraft!" Ekret called out.

"SHOT OUT!" Cheepeek yelled.

"226th Artillery is being jammed. I'll relay it to 221st!" Trucker yelled. In the background Ekret heard someone call out "MAIN GUN OUT!"

"GOOD HIT! GOOD HIT! STILL ACTIVE!"

The channel dissolved into static from Trucker's end.

"Ekret, can you hear me?" Trucker asked. "Gimme the grid!"

"SHOT OUT!"

Ekret felt Heslettek load it into his implant and he shot it to the big Terran General.

"Repeat," Trucker said and repeated the numbers. "All 168th elements, go to rapid fire, break that big bastard in half!" the Terran suddenly roared. DIRECT HIT! TARGET DOWN! Ekret saw an icon blink in his vision letting him know that the commo wasn't for him, the big Terran had simply not cut Ekret out of the link.

"Ekret, you still there?" Trucker asked.

"TARGET!"

"Still here, sir," Ekret said.

"SHOT OUT!"

"Ninety seconds, button up!" Trucker yelled. It sounded like the human was half deaf.

The tank jerked, moving again, jerking at Bouncy and Sselssen's commands.

"DIRECT HIT! TARGET DOWN!" Bouncy called out. Ekret had noticed that Bouncy looked more like him, only made of chrome and burning blue neon, with the V Corps logo on his head.

"Gimme HHQ Brigade!" Ekret yelled to Heslettek.

"TARGET!"

"Open channel," Heslettek called out.

"SHOT OUT!"

"All elements, ninety seconds! Incoming rainstorm!" Ekret called out over his comlink. He hit the stud to close the hatch, which he had left open to suck out the vapors and smoke from the plasma cannon venting slightly into the crew cabin. TARGET DOWN! The hatch slammed shut, no longer slowly whining shut but instead checking for any blockage with micro-pulse lasers then yanked down.

Ekret stomped the pedal that normally would override the gunner, bringing all his screens back to life. He ground the plas ration tube between his molars.

The forest was burning around them, his units were moving fast, blowing through the ambush. His last unit was almost clear, and following training, was rotating as they left the enemy, their battle-screens exploding trees as it deflected or absorbed shots. His units were all pocked, cratered, from the hypervelocity rounds.

But none of his tanks were mission-killed and none of his men were seriously injured.

His own tank was following, pouring fire into the enemy, who was trying to link up with a larger force that had heavy vehicles but couldn't move through the canyons where 1/32 was dug in.

"THIRTY SECONDS!" Bouncy squealed.

"SHOT OUT!"

"TARGET DESTROYED!" Bouncy added.

His men were clear and he signalled all stop, all power to forward and hull battle screens, and to ground down.

"INCOMING FUEL AIR AND ARMOR PENETRATORS!" Bouncy called out.

The forest erupted in fire.

here comes the rain, Ekret thought to himself.

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Explosions blossomed on the starboard battle-screen as Ekret stood up, half out of the hatch, his helmet left below, and the Precursor aircraft shot by, winding around for another shot. The point defense roared at it but missed. The hoverfans roared, at max accel, as the 150 ton hovertank slid to starboard and Cheepeek cursed, trying to line up the shot. Sensors were useless, thermal masking smoke, droplet suspended microcrystal prisms, chaff, and more filling the air. Cheepeek had to rely on his optical sight. Bouncy was fully engaged helping Heslettek in keeping the EW running since air superiority was still in question.

The mag-lev had been built by the Precursors, from a Jotun that had slammed down into the bay to its Devestators and Destructors and Djinn. It was ferrying war vehicles, ammunition, supplies, and only the Precursor knew what.

Sselssen drove the tank straight through the wooden buildings, blowing through the (hopefully) empty housing, the battle-screen throwing away burning debris even as the tank's fans ground the debris into the dirt. Ekret winced, hoping nobeing was taking shelter in the buildings. The battle-screen would do to flesh and bone what it did to wood and plasteel.

The tanks of 1/1 HHQ CO burst out of the wooden buildings, rotating and putting on the power to make a tight swinging curve so they were racing next to the train. The last tanks started pouring fire into the train cars, into the tracks, as they raced after their fellows. The trail was winding, moving between the high piles of old mining tailings from when the area had been an active lithium salt mine.

"ENGINE UP AHEAD!" Cheepeek yelled, his face pressed into the foam cushion on his sight. The avian already had thick scabs around his eyes and a cut on the side of his face from slamming around in the tank while using his sight.

"FIRE AT WILL!" Ekret bellowed over his comlink, using the 2cm four-barrel mag-acel coaxil on the train cars. It tore through the metal and something exploded, throwing debris against the battle-screen.

"SHOT OUT!" Cheepeek yelled.

The engine exploded, jumped the track, and the entirety of 1/1H yanked away from the mag-lev train as it began to derail. Several threw shots into cars coming at them, blowing the cars apart.

In a perfect world I'd have been able to stop the train, load it with atomics, and blow that Jotun sky high, Ekret thought to himself.

The aircraft came roaring back, and the gunner of 1/1-3 blew it out of the air with a main gun shot.

"Commander's compliments to crew of 1/1-3," Ekret sent over the voice-com.

The night burned around them as they raced for their next target area.

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The air was full of the ticking of cooling osmium and war-steel as the tanks slowly cooled. The crews crawled over them, patching the fan housings where it needed, cleaning the air filters, checking the hoses, recompiling battle-programs under the watchful eye of the VI's, eating or drinking when they could, moving to the opposite side of their tank to eliminate waste, or just trying to relax. 144th Ordnance Company was reloading the tanks, passing up ammunition from their armored vehicles. They men and women in the power chassis worked fast, chattering to one another as they worked.

Ekret was chewing on an empty ration pack, staring up at the night sky. Streaks, blots of light, all lit up the dark violet sky. A bright flash the size of a credit chip let Ekret know that something big had just blown up.

He was listening to the chatter of this crews over his implant, the command codes the Terrans had loaded into it proving useful. They were in high spirits, even though 1/1-6 had caught a massive magnetic accelerated hypervelocity shot that had blown clear through the tank. The anti-spalling liner the Terrans had installed on the tanks had kept the crew alive, but the tank commander had been vaporized above his waist, the gunner had lost his tail, and the driver's armor was the only thing that had saved his life as the round punched out the other side.

One crew. One crew in over 24 hours, out of 8,000 tanks and crews.

Ekret knew his luck couldn't last forever, but right there, at that moment, the universe felt perfect to him.

Off in the distance the thunder of an orbital strike rumbled and a faint flash sped across the night sky.

A Terran heavy cruiser had gotten a shot at that Jotun and took it. From the chatter on Ekret's implant, the Jotun was suffering chain reaction explosions. Its point defense was down and the artillery units of V Corps had already plotted and let loose fire missions.

The night was perfect.

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The ion bolt, fired from a 200mm cannon, slammed into the battlescreen, slamming Ekret painfully against the edge of his hatch. Ekret swung the 2cm autocannon around, snarling through bloody teeth, and triggered the coaxil.

The density collapsed metal shard sheered the armor away from the vehicle, ripping a deep gouge in the side. The hypervelocity rounds connected the coaxil and the armored vehicle for a second.

1/1-4 took the shot and the vehicle exploded, debris flashing on the battle-screens.

They were past and Ekret could see another vehicle, this one facing away. Ekret held down the trigger, hosed a burst into the machine even as Sselseen fluttered the fans and nudged the ground with the forward port fan, slewing the tank around.

The machine exploded as a mag-driven sabot slashed the edge of the port battle-screen, not disrupting it but instead bleeding energy into it which the battle-screens dumped into the capacitors of the tank.

Ekret snarled, the empty thin plas ration tube held between his teeth. He saw another vehicle and slashed the coaxil across it right before Cheekeet slammed a plasma cannon round into it.

They were past, all of 1/1H running for it, deploying chaff, jammers, microprism mist, and good old thermal masking smoke.

"Headcount," Ekret growled over his implant, his teeth still worrying the tube.

It came back.

No casualties.

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"Break net, break net, Rapid Viper, do you read?" The message pushed across the entire net. It was Trucker himself. Behind the Terran's voice Ekret heard "SHOT OUT!"

Heslettek boosted the gain, deployed a com-drone, firing it into the low clouds that were dropping ash filled rain on them.

"Rapid Viper Six here," Ekret answered. "We hear you."

"You where TacCom says you are?" Trucker asked.

TARGET! Ekret wasn't sure if it came from Trucker's link or his.

Ekret checked the screens quickly. Only off by about a hundred meters, but that could matter. He thumbed the update icon. "Roger that, Papa Dragon."

"Listen close, you know that check you signed?" Trucker asked.

Shit, Ekret thought. Human cursewords were satisfying to let out in a human snarl. That check. Oooh boy.

"Roger that, sir," Ekret said. "Check cashing time, sir."

"Punch up 13th Evac Hospital," Trucker ordered. Bouncy threw it up as a pulse from Trucker ID'd it for the aVI. Ekret pinged he had it. "OK, there's a force of heavy metal heading in on it. They can't get out, I've got only one thing in range to get in the way of the heavy metal."

"You can count on us, sir," Ekret said.

SHOT OUT! rang in both Ekret's crew cabin and over Trucker's transmission.

"Passing data to your warboi," Trucker snapped. "I've got elements of 8th Infantry and 3rd Armor heading in, but they won't get there in time. Just slow them down, you don't have to slambang them toe to toe, Rapid Viper."

"We're on it, sir! Rapid Viper enroute and out," Ekret said.

Bouncy threw the scans up on the datapads that still worked around Ekret. Ekret pursed his lips. They were big machines. Two thousand to Ekret's two hundred. They outweighed him by a factor of 20 at least. The only good thing was they were track motivated with repulsor assist. Maser cannons on the front, plasma cannons on the side, a single magack at the back. Point defense was thick, though. No battle screens. Armor meters thick, though. No reactive armor, that was something. No indirect fire but forward facing rocket pods. They all had gun-pods around them, vehicle sized drones mounting hypervelocity cannons.

They were outnumbered, counting the pods, thirty to one.

"All 1/1 elements, this is Rapid Viper Six, incoming battleplan update. Fire off masking and go to flank speed," Ekret said. He put what they were trying to protect. "Our wounded are there. 1/5 and 1/7's men are there. It's check cashing time, as the Terran's say."

Sselsseen whipped the tank around like it was a hockey puck on ice, gunned the fans. Cheapshot stroked his sole remaining feather for luck. Ekret put an empty plas ration tube in his mouth.

It was going to be an ugly fight. 13th Evac was just beyond some hills, which meant that they couldn't get their line of sight weapons on the incoming metal. The air superiority was still in question and most of the aircraft were busy pounding two different Jotuns that were spewing fire and molten metal.

Ekret worked up the plan as best he could. Warning drivers to stay low, ordering the warbois to go to maximum deflection on the topside battle screens, ordering the warbois to rehash the entire Battalion's crypto, ordering the gunners to load all the heavy war-shot they'd largely been saving.

He ordered them to focus on the tracks, the repulsors, knock them out and keep going, stay mobile, stay alive.

He finished the transmission with "It Will Be Done."

He got back a resounding reply from every tank.

It Will Be Done, Sir!

The two hundred and six tanks of 1/1 Recon roared through the afternoon, their fans churning the grass and bushes into puree and spraying it around. They hit the beginning of the hills and split up according to Ekret's warplan, going to full stealth.

The battle was ugly but it wasn't fast as Ekret's tanks caught the Precursor machines with their electronic pants down. Gunners, their skills razor sharp after two days of fighting, disabled nearly three times their number as they raced into the enemy, taking them from the rear.

TARGET!

FIRE!

became the watchword.

But the Precursors didn't die alone. Ekret watched as a tank went to the white cross of a mission kill. It still moved, though, gouting flames as the main gun kept firing. It took another hit, slewed the side, fired again, and blew up. A red X covered two. Then another. Then another.

Then 1/1 was clear, spinning in place, tilting the fans to push the tanks back toward the enemy as the guns fired. Roaring back in, their guns thundering, aimed at tracks or repulsor pods.

Ekret ran the coaxil, the same with Heslettek, blowing pods out of the air, raking the tracks, slamming plasma bolts and mag-shot against the armor.

Another mission kill, the driver slewed it out of the formation, bouncing off a Precursor machine, the tank spinning, but getting clear. It was burning its two fans, trying to keep air cushion up, but still firing its gun.

Sa'altlikk's old crew, put in a heavy tank after the light tank had blown a primary engine. They kept pouring fire into the Precursor vehicles until three of the enemy vehicles targeted the grounded tank.

It burst into flame.

And 1/1 was clear. The Precursor machines had abandoned their advance, stung too hard, over 25% of their forces and almost all the pods already destroyed. One Precursor machine tried to deploy a pod and somehow Sa'altlikk's old crew put one more plasma cannon shot downrange, hitting the open pod bay.

The Precursor blew up at the same time as the wounded UMF tank exploded into shards.

Back in, into the thunder and fire, the crash of metal and the scream of overloaded hoverfans, the stench of burning battle-screens and scorched metal.

1/1 came out of the other side, but this time the Precursors gave chase.

Ekret had planned for that and the tanks of 1/1 swam between the low hills, that had once been debris piles for a massive factory that had been reclaimed two centuries before.

"BLACK HORSE ENROUTE! HOLD THE LINE, BROTHERS!" came over the comlink.

"HEAVY METAL INCOMING!" roared the warborgs of 8th Infantry.

Ekret looked at his tactical display and knew if his men broke off the Precursor machines would pound 1/1's rear arcs with concentrated fire and not a single one of Ekret's men would survive getting out of the hills.

"Stick with the fucking war-plan, men!" Ekret roared over the comlink.

"IT WILL BE DONE! FOR THIRTEENTH!" his men roared back.

Ekret's men began making figure eights, turning the machines in circles, forcing them to try to go over the hills and firing into the underbellies of the Precursor machines.

The Precursors kept exploding, but not fast enough. Another tank was killed. One mission killed but then crushed beneath the treads of Precursor tank it had just gutted as gravity pulled the dead Precursor down the hill.

The commander was firing the coaxil even as the Precursor's treads slammed down on the tank.

A round hit, blowing through the battle-screen, slamming into the hull of the turret. The cupola rang but the spall lining held. A six inch deep glowing crater shown on the side of Ekret's tank, but Cheepeek "Cheapshot" slammed a plasma bolt back, blowing the track off. The Precursor vehicle slewed the side and Cheapshot slammed a bolt into its side, into a crater left by another tank.

The Precursor exploded.

A drone popped up and Ekret raked it with magshot, shattering it before it could deploy a weapon. It was still wet, greasy looking.

Sselseen whipped the tank around the dead carcass of another Precursor, coming up behind a still moving Precursor machine.

"SHOT OUT!" Cheapshot trilled.

The return shot hit the side of Ekret's tank, throwing Viper-Six against the burning wreckage of another tank. The spalling liner worked but the shot still blew two of the fans out.

The second shot hit the engine and Bouncy blew the fusion engine free, flushing it with water. It flew out, toward a moving Precursor machine.

Heslettek raked the glowing fusion engine.

Sselseen pulled the tank around, slamming the injured side against another wreck, the vehicle rocking on its side slightly.

Bouncy put full power, everything he could get, into the starboard battle-screen, ignoring the heat and overload warnings.

Ekret hosed a drone.

Cheapshot hit the bottom of a tank that was clearing the hill with a roar.

The shells breached the mag-bottle and the fusion engine erupted.

Nuclear fire washed over Viper-Six, slamming it against the hill, dragging it along the dirt, spinning it, tearing away the last two fans.

Cheapshot fired another round, gutting another tank.

The tank went dead. Black. After a long moment red light clicked on, went off, then came on. Sparks were shooting from Cheapshot's scope. The avian gunner had blood running down his face and his prosthetic beak was cracked down the middle.

"I I I I I g-g-g-got that," Bouncy said.

The scope stopped shooting sparks.

The hull still rumbled with the battle roaring outside.

"Get me a screen, Bouncy," Ekret ordered.

"No can do, boss. "We're fused shut in here and running on emergency power backup batteries," Bouncy said. He stuttered several times. "I gotta drop into my surv vi vi vival core. Sorry, boss."

"Ya did good, Bouncy. Get some rest," Ekret coughed. "Who's still alive."

"Me," Haslettek coughed.

"Here," Sselseen said. He coughed, blinking his transparent lids over his eyes.

"Present," Cheapshot hacked.

The little digital display on the yellow striped box wit the yellow handle next to Ekret's head flashed a smiley face.

Something crashed into the remains of Viper-Six, sending it spinning. The lights went out.

shit

They sat in the dark for a long moment.

"Sir, can you pass me the medical kit?" Cheapshot asked. "My face is torn up."

Ekret fumbled around until he found it, then passed it to his gunner. "Hear you go, Cheapshot. Good fight, no?"

"Best fight," they all said together.

Something glanced off their hull, bulging the side of crew compartment, but the anti-spalling liner held.

Sselseen grabbed the extinquisher and hosed down his controls.

"Just in case," The saurian said.

"No complaints from me," Ekret said, putting an empty ration tube in his teeth. "Wish we had a pack of glow in the dark dice or cards like the Terrans carry."

"Gonna trade for some," Cheapshot said in the darkness.

"Hand me the kit," Ekret said. There was some fumbling but he got the kit. He used it silently, listening to the battle outside and his crew being alive inside.

It went quiet. The crew was panting, the air thick. They took turns on the oxygen mask from the medkit, gasping and sweating between each hit.

Eventually, it ran out while the world still thundered through the hull.

There was a clank in the darkness. Ekret opened his eyes. It was still dark inside.

"13th Evac SAR, hold on, brothers," was inducted to the interior.

There was a loud roar above Ekret and he shielded his eyes when the hatch was ripped free.

A UMF Air Mobile suit, with the red cresent on one side of the chest, the red cross on the other, was looking inside.

"Can you move, Most High?" Old Iron Feathers asked, shining his light on the slap-patch on the stump of his right leg.

"Yeah," Ekret said. He grabbed the handle on the yellow square, pulled it out, then twisted the handle. The cube popped free. "Don't forget our warboi."

"Leave none behind," Old Iron Feathers quoted as he deployed a pair of Purrboys.

------------------------

Ekret looked at his new chrome foot. The Terrans had replaced his entire leg with a cyborg prosthetic. The armor on the leg had been pulled from his faithful tank.

His crew had survived.

Cheapshot had black chrome around his eyes, his eyes replaced with cybernetics. Sselseen had his tail regrown and his shoulder repaired. Haslettek had needed a new implant and both of his legs had been broken.

But they survived the brutal fight two days ago. They'd held off the Precursors, 1/1 taking heavy casualties but keeping them from sweeping over the hills to crash down the Medical Evac company.

Ekret looked up. The new tank was in front of him. He was carrying Bouncy's Survival Core.

"Let's get it on," Cheapshot said.

Together they moved to the tank, climbing inside. Ekret locked the box in place, hit the stud, and watched as Bouncy moved across the screens. Once everyone was buckled in, Ekret stood up in the hatch and nudged his implant.

"1/1's waiting, men," Ekret said, pulling an empty ration tube from his pocket, where it had sat next to the glow in the dark dice, and put it between his teeth.

The tank moved smoothly away on its hoverfans.

-----------------------

V CORPS

Special Unit Commendation to 1/1 Recon for valor above and beyond the call of duty in the defense of 13th Evac hospital. Battle standard to be awarded. Permission for unit crest and unit motto (to be approved) is granted.

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