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I am a Soldier

Written By: Spudz

"Warning, you are now entering enemy territory..."

The automated message repeated twice more over the platoon's frequency in an eerily calm feminine voice, hammering home the point just in case a weary soldier had missed the first transmission.

Inside the cockpit of his Hellhound, Dirk snapped to attention with a grimace. Several hours on patrol, and they were only now just getting to the front lines... it was going to be a long day.

Darkness continued to reign across the landscape, casting a protective shroud over the squad of four mechs as they made their way down the narrow dirt path in a single column. Only a few more hours remained until morning. Before then, the platoon had to traverse another fifteen kilometers through enemy held land to reach a designated patrol point, and that was only the beginning. It was really going to be a long day.

With his mech running on autopilot and the pilot interface disengaged, Dirk had taken the opportunity to recline back in the cockpit seat for some much needed rest. No doubt the other pilots had also taken advantage of the downtime to relax, knowing full well what was to come.

The mission at hand was to probe the lines for any signs of activity, a dangerous assignment, but a necessary duty that had to be undertaken for intelligence gathering purposes. Rules of engagement were restrictive, mainly limiting Dirk and his platoon to defensive actions only. If at all possible, any contact with enemy forces was to be avoided. Never mind the fact that they were literally waltzing right into the enemy's backyard; quite a hazardous op for a first deployment, especially considering Dirk had no live combat experience.

Talk about hitting the ground running...

Presently, the wolf brought up the rear of the single column formation, following right behind Coots. Even though the Hellhound in front of Dirk stood at eighteen meters tall, with a massive rail gun hoisted over the shoulder to boot, the tall canopies of the surrounding trees on either side of the dirt road provided effective camouflage for concealing the demon-like war machine from outside view.

As it turned out, this particular tropical region of Treja was well suited to Dirk's combat style. The tree line of the thick jungle typically came up level with a Hellhound and its mobile armor counterparts, severely restricting a pilot's view. From what Dirk had learned during his mission briefings on the trip over, the combat here could get very up close and personal... and that was exactly how he liked it.

There was no visual indication to mark the transition from friendly to enemy held territory. Then again, why would there be? Dirk had half expected to find some sort of trench, or perhaps even an empty expanse of landscape that marked the exact boundary of the warfront. Of course there was no such thing. Instead, the only noticeable transition from one side of the line to the other was an imaginary boundary drawn across the map on one of the cockpit displays.

In this dense foliage, you could hide an entire army right under your adversary's nose, and they would have been none the wiser without literally tripping over your own forces. And, of course, the exact opposite was true too. With all the powerful electronic countermeasures and jamming that continuously denied both sides any manner of long range detection, the fighting on the front lines had degenerated down to a swordfight between two blindfolded opponents, as Jamie had so eloquently stated to Dirk earlier. Considering that, the platoon could easily stroll right into the midst of a full enemy battalion without any warning whatsoever. From here on out, they would have to be on their toes.

In front of Dirk, Coots's mech suddenly came to a stop along the dirt road, causing his own Hellhound to halt in the same manner. Even though the moonless night shrouded the forest in utter darkness, he could still see the fox's mech with stark clarity, along with the support truck and remaining squad units further up the road. The night vision scopes of the Hellhound were incredibly sensitive instruments, giving him a clear view of his surroundings as if it had been a sunny midday afternoon. The only real disparity was the lack of vibrant color, which resulted in a crisp black and white display.

"Alright gentlemen, time to get serious," Jamie's voice spoke up over the open squad frequency. Up at the front of the column, the captain's Hellhound turned to regard the other units with its sinister red eyes, assault rifle held at the ready. "Assume formation and keep on your guard."

While the other pilots acknowledged her orders over the channel, Dirk quickly set about reengaging the pilot interface, first by sliding the interface's visor down over his eyes to assume the Hellhound's sight once more. "Command; engage mobility link, standard code alpha."

By prefacing his verbal instruction with the word "command," the computer software automatically recognized Dirk's statement for what it was, and made sure not to pass the pilot's words on to the open squad link. As it was, the verbal command system was a surprisingly complex part of the Hellhound's cockpit, proving to be a tad unwieldy at times. However, with the pilot's hands and paws occupied by the interface suit, there really had been no other way to design it.

After engaging the link, it took only a few moments for the skin-tight nanofiber mesh to pull Dirk off the cockpit seat into a rigid standing position. When his body's posture mirrored that of his Hellhound, the autopilot then disengaged, giving the pilot full control.

"Do you still want us to run Tactical Bravo Formation?" Dirk asked over the platoon frequency, while he brought up both his arms to inspect the shield and sword in either hand of his Hellhound.

A slight pause took hold over the squad channel before the captain replied. "Actually, no. Switch to Right Flank Delta. We'll break off on two trails."

All three pilots, as well as Goose and Lynne in the support truck, acknowledged her command in unison.

"Dirk, I want you protecting Coots and the truck," Jamie added without pause. "I'm counting on you to keep them safe."

Within his cockpit, the wolf perked up in surprise, causing his Hellhound to mirror the subtle motion. "Captain?"

"I hadn't counted on how thick the vegetation is in this area. We'll be severely restricted in mobility." The captain's mech motioned with its assault rifle toward a nearby trail that branched off the main dirt road. "Me and Sahir will run the flanking position on this route. Dirk, lead Coots and the truck down the adjoining path."

"Ah... right, understood."

Jamie's Hellhound turned to move off the dirt road with a flourish of its fully articulated tail. As Dirk watched her mech disappear into the tree line with Sahir's unit in tow, two blue outlines appeared on his heads up display, showing the detailed wolfish profiles of their Hellhounds through the visual obstruction.

"Looks like ya get to be my linebacker after all," Coots spoke, referring back to their conversation in the hanger some hours ago. "Think that fancy shield of yours is up to the task?"

Dirk nodded his head with a roguish grin, knowing full well his Hellhound would mirror the motion save for the expression. "You bet your ass."

Yet, the wolf wasn't as sure as he sounded. There was no telling how well his untested weapons would hold up in combat. God help him and the others if something decided to go horribly wrong when he faced down an opponent.

Coots's mech gave him a thumbs up, a gesture that was quite odd given the Hellhound's wicked appearance. "Now that's what I like to hear. I'm counting on ya to protect your quarterback." With those words, the fox primed a sabot round into his rail gun chamber via a twist of the hand on the weapon's foregrip, and motioned elegantly for Dirk to proceed with the other.

Taking Coots's cue, Dirk wasted no time moving on down the road toward the next path. "Command; map."

Straightaway, a topographical map materialized in the wolf's field of view through the interface visor, depicting the immediate region in a top-down fashion right in the corner of his vision. The path that Jamie had taken was clearly marked as a twisting line across the features of the area, as was the trail he now stood before. Both wound their way lazily through the mountainous landscape in parallel with one another, crossing with similar routes here and there to make up quite an elaborate network of patrol paths. However, unlike the dirt road the platoon had travelled on so far, these were not well maintained.

To Dirk, it looked like a mech had taken a shield, not unlike his own, and literally plowed a trail through the forest, leaving a mess of felled trees behind. He could see that walking on this unstable ground was going to be a tad difficult. Of course, the platoon could continue on down the much nicer dirt road, but that was just inviting the enemy to come knocking. At least the support truck wouldn't have any difficulty. Lynne could just float over most of it with the vehicle's magnetic cushion.

"Here goes nothing," Dirk breathed to himself.

"Don't worry champ. Just keep on your toes."

The wolf's ears splayed back at Jamie's unexpected reply. He had already forgotten about the open squad comm... a rookie mistake. Here he was fresh off the transport trying to make a good first impression and already he was showing his inexperience. Focus; he had to focus above all else. Nothing else mattered now except protecting his squad mates.

With care, Dirk eased his mech onto the new trail, sword and shield held at the ready. However, the pilot kept his weapon emitters unpowered, rendering the formidable armaments harmless for the time being. Out here any form of energy that was generated could be detected and traced to the source. To play things safe, it was best to conserve power until he found himself in a sticky situation, both for the sake of stealth and the Hellhound's power cell fuel consumption.

On Dirk's HUD, several blue triangles marked his squad's location on the map display. Already Jamie and Sahir were ahead of him on the adjoining path, while Coots and the support truck were positioned several hundred meters back from the wolf's own location.

For now, the platoon would move in a staggered formation, with the captain's element running a screen on the left flank for the rest of the squad. If the enemy suddenly appeared, the formation could counter in a number of ways, depending on the situation. Jamie's strategy was cautious, as it should've been considering they could be surrounded without any warning. Now, all the enemy had to do was play nice and leave them the hell alone, and they wouldn't have to put it to the test.

"Maintain comm discipline," Jamie spoke up. "Report any contacts or strange readings. I don't want to be caught by surprise."

This time it was Goose who replied. "I got my eyes and ears wide open, capt'n."

Dirk grinned to himself inside his cockpit. He had almost forgotten about his newest friend. Undoubtedly, right at that very moment, Goose was completely wrapped up in his secondary role as the platoon's listener in the back of the support truck. With an array of displays situated before him in the cramped compartment, the wolf would have full access to a wide range of passive and active sensor systems, providing him the best means of detecting any unwelcomed guests. Of the entire platoon, the mechanic had the toughest and most vital job to perform. They were all relying on his keen senses to keep their collective tails out of the fire.

And so the patrol began in earnest for Dirk and his colleagues. With friendly defensive positions now a few kilometers behind the squad, only artillery was available were they to engage a hostile force. Such support was marginally helpful at best though. 1st Platoon was now essentially on its own.

As Dirk forged on down the path laid out before him, he couldn't help but marvel at how familiar the landscape of this alien world was. The tropical jungle looked strikingly similar to the Indonesian rainforest he had trained in during his days in the academy, and that was not by coincidence. The planet was, after all, a terraformed world.

It had taken nearly a century for canid engineers and scientists to convert Treja into a habitable planet, transforming what had been a barren world lacking even a breathable atmosphere into a lush planet that rivaled Earth's majesty. From basic microorganisms all the way up to the largest mammals, any and all life that could be found here had been transplanted from Earth, with the underlying goal to build an almost identical planet for sustained habitation. The science behind such an astronomically complex undertaking was beyond Dirk's understanding. This wasn't like the artificial geofronts that had allowed the canid race to colonize Mars and similar planets. This was a living, breathing world that was self-sustaining. Yet with Treja now fully terraformed, the planet was still essentially uninhabited.

The war had started when Dirk was still progressing through his engineering studies nearly four years ago. Where there was land and resources for the taking, there was always war. Treja had been no exception. What had once been a barren dirtball of a planet was now prime real estate, and it was this sudden abundance of resources and habitable land that had caught the eye of a neighboring stellar race.

The news that had trickled back from the front lines over the past few years had painted a dour picture of a war that was slowly being lost, and of an enemy that fought brutally without any remorse for their canid opposition. There were rumored reports of captive soldiers being slaughtered, of suicide attacks that mirrored the Japanese Kamikazes of ancient World War II, of a sinister foe that committed countless war crimes just to further their own political goals.

It was all bullshit to Dirk. Any person with half a mind could see the propaganda for what it was. Yet, countless had answered the call to arms, spurred on by the fervor that all the disinformation had caused. Hell, even Dirk had ended up enlisting, although he had done so for his own reasons.

For now though, the wolf would reserve his opinion of the enemy until he actually had his first taste of combat, and saw his adversary for who they really were. But that didn't stop him from wondering; was there some truth to all the reports after all?

"Contact!" a voice exclaimed suddenly in alarm.

Dirk's fur stood on end, his ears perking up fully. It took a moment for him to realize it was Goose's voice he was hearing over the comm. Fuck... they had only just crossed into enemy territory and already the patrol was going by the wayside!

"Aerial contact," Goose called out again. "Small profile, single engine... classify as unmanned recon aircraft."

Jamie's reply was quick and concise. "Get under cover!"

Dirk was already moving before the captain's order came. His Hellhound replied smartly to the pilot's movement as he ducked sideways into a stand of trees alongside the path, obscuring his profile in the thick foliage. The mech's stealth capabilities were second to none on the battlefield. However, that didn't mean an enemy couldn't visually spot its silhouette out in open ground, especially from the air.

The others were just as quick on their paws, causing the platoon to melt into the wilderness around them. On Dirk's HUD, a small red dot appeared on his map, highlighting the UAV's location relative to his own. The little bastard was moving quickly right along the border of the frontlines from the looks of it, probably searching for any sign of advance on part of the canid military. The unmanned vehicle was performing the same duty that 1st Platoon was carrying out, although searching from the air was far less effective, albeit safer.

The dot continued its march across the map display right toward the friendly blue icons that marked Dirk's squad. If they were spotted now, the patrol would go sideways in a hurry. Without a doubt, they would find themselves caught up in an artillery barrage, or worse, come face to face with an enemy mechanized response force. At least friendly held land wasn't too far away.

It took only a few seconds for the drone to reach the platoon. When the small aircraft passed overhead, Dirk chanced a look upward through the trees just in time to see the small vehicle fly right over his head. The HUD immediately painted a red outline around its bat-like features, allowing the wolf to watch as it continued on lazily toward the distant mountains. No indication was given that they had been spotted.

The squad waited in hiding a few more minutes just to make sure all was clear. It wasn't long before the UAV faded from sensors, once more leaving the stillness of the tropical jungle around them.

"Something's not right about this," Jamie stated, mostly to herself.

"What makes you say that?" Dirk asked. It wasn't uncommon for UAVs to be used on the battlefield, especially when electronic countermeasures limited long range detection.

"We don't normally see the enemy's unmanned aircraft on this side of the line. They usually deploy them deep on our side as a first line of surveillance."

"And we didn't see any UAVs until now," Sahir added. "Why would they pull back recon assets when they've had us on the defensive for so long?"

The radio went silent for a few seconds. "They're up to something," Jamie finally concluded. "Whatever it is, they don't want us finding out. They're consolidating their assets for a reason."

As if to confirm the captain's suspicion, another UAV appeared on Goose's scopes, heading on a parallel course to the first. The platoon was forced to wait in hiding as the second aircraft flew overhead, until it too disappeared off into the night.

With the threat of detection passed once more, the captain made up her mind. "Let's keep on. I have a hunch we'll figure out what they're up to if we continue on this path. Keep on guard. There's no telling how many eyes and ears are out there looking for us."

The squad acknowledged the captain's orders without pause, although Dirk thought he detected just the slightest reluctance in their tone. Or, maybe it was just his own anxiety getting the better of him. This patrol was growing more ominous with each passing moment. Deep down, he knew the captain was right; of course she had to be. Out here a smart pilot learned to listen to their instincts and intuition. It really was the only way to survive. If the captain suspected something to be out of place, than odds were they would probably run headlong into whatever it was.

Over the course of the next hour, the squad had to stop several more times to avoid UAV activity. The deeper they tracked into enemy territory, the more reconnaissance aircraft they encountered. There had to be countless mechanized forces scattered about the area as well, although 1st Platoon had been fortunate enough to avoid any contact so far. That was liable to change at any moment.

"I'm gettin' increased jammin' levels on all sensors," Goose spoke up, breaking the silence that had settled over the comm.

By now, the platoon had crossed over a series of small ridgelines, putting them well into enemy territory. According to the map, they only had to traverse another mountain slope before the jungle opened up into a valley, where 2nd Armor's forward operations base had once been two months ago.

When the frontlines had gotten too close, the division had been forced to abandon the facility, leaving nothing but empty buildings behind. The old base still remained on Dirk's map, although the icon was greyed out. It was a discouraging reminder of just how badly the war was going.

"Any idea where the jamming's coming from?" Jamie inquired.

Dirk could practically hear Goose's wheels turning as he worked fervently with his readouts to pinpoint a location. With conventional sensors all but useless in such a thick layer of interference, the mechanic's only hope of establishing a position was to figure out where the jamming was strongest. The science behind the process wasn't very complicated, akin really to shining a flashlight through a fog bank to see where the soupy mess was the thickest.

"Best guess is the mountain ridge up ahead," Goose finally replied with some confidence. "This is the strongest interference I've eva seen. I can't get any burn through at all."

The mechanic wasn't lying. On Dirk's visor HUD, several warning messages flashed in his peripheral vision indicating the Hellhound's degraded sensor capability. Even with the upgraded hardware from the research lab back on Earth, he was still effectively blind.

Jamie's mech suddenly came to a halt on the adjoining path, causing the platoon to follower her lead. Over the comm, the jackal's voice was cool and calm. "Hold here and let's try getting a sonar picture."

"Roger that," Goose acknowledged.

As Dirk turned and backtracked toward the support truck, Lynne carefully maneuvered the vehicle off the open path into cover on its maglev cushion. In the thick of the jungle foliage, they would be well hidden while performing the sonar sweep.

After a few moments of carefully weaving his Hellhound into the thick tree line, Dirk took up position just in front of the now stationary truck, and firmly planted his shield into the ground before him. The Aegis's sizeable profile provided ample protection for the wolf's mech as he then knelt behind it, shielding both him and the truck from enemy fire. The others followed suit and quickly created a loose protective ring around the vehicle and its two occupants.

"Beginning sonar sweep," Goose called out.

Behind Dirk, the support truck settled onto the ground with a dull thud. Along the one side of the vehicle, a hydraulic arm swiveled out to deploy a sonar probe, while a second probe disengaged from the rear compartment floating on its own magnetic cushion. Together the two sensitive instruments could detect and triangulate the position of hostile forces via acoustic vibrations transferred through the surrounding ground and air; crude, but extremely effective. There really was no other way with all the electronic interference.

Before any readings could be taken however, Goose first had to navigate the second sonar platform away from the support truck, using a simple joystick to weave the robotic apparatus throughout the densely packed trees until the probe was roughly twenty five meters distant.

As Dirk watched through the eyes of his Hellhound, the hydraulic piston discharged on the side of the truck, injecting the sonar microphones into the ground several meters deep. Out of sight, the second probe did the same, establishing the two points of detection that Goose could use for triangulation.

Now, Dirk could do nothing but wait anxiously as the mechanic set to work washing raw acoustic signals through his detection equipment, filtering out ambient noise and other sounds that were of no importance. You had to have a keen set of ears to effectively work this role in the platoon; the computers were only able to do so much to help. It could be a boring and often tedious assignment, but such a task was absolutely crucial to the squad's survival.

By now, Lynne had left the truck's driver seat to join her lupine counterpart in the dark sensor compartment aft. When listening for even the faintest trace of an enemy's acoustic signature, it helped to have a second set of ears aiding the first. As such, there was an identical station situated alongside the one Goose occupied, allowing the dingo to don a pair of headphones like his, and dial in to the same readings he was receiving.

"Christ, there is a lot of activity," Lynne breathed over the comm, her voice laced with concern.

Instinctively, Dirk's senses went on high alert. The wolf's eyes scanned the surrounding trees, quickly catching the highlighted profile of Jamie's mech to his left front on the adjoining path, and Sahir's just behind her own. Meanwhile, Coots was positioned a hundred meters behind, leaving Dirk to watch the right flank. According to the map, there wasn't another trail for a good ten kilometers in that direction. Still, that didn't mean there was nothing out there...

"Surface contact!" Goose cried out, jolting Dirk rudely. "Bearing two-six-three... distance... two kilometers."

The wolf cringed inside his cockpit. God damn, that was far too close for comfort.

If the sudden callout had alarmed Jamie, the captain's voice didn't betray it. "What's the threat picture, Goose?"

"Hold on... yeah, five... no make'm six biped contacts. Classify as mobile armor."

"Standard platoon strength," the captain observed calmly.

Goose continued to refine his information. "Speed is... about 30 kilometers per hour, course... due south."

On Dirk's HUD, a series of red dots appeared on his map as the support truck's sensors fed his mech information. The enemy was running on a parallel trail from 1st Platoon, moving in the exact opposite direction. They were close, but not close enough to detect the Hellhounds. Dirk and his team had lucked out. Or had they?

"New contact!" This time, it was Lynne who made the callout. "Bearing, zero-nine-three... distance, five kilometers. Mobile armor signature... squad of six."

A new series of red dots occupied the wolf's map, this time on another path to the north. Thankfully, that route and the one 1st Platoon was on didn't intersect at any point. But still, suddenly there were more hostile contacts out there. This was starting to get dangerous.

It went on like that for nearly ten minutes. Soon, the map was practically littered in red. The further out the contact was established, the larger the red splotch was due to uncertainty in the acoustic signature. The whole mess made Dirk's fur stand on end. They really were right smack in the middle of the lion's den.

"God help us if we stir up this hornet's nest," Sahir commented softly over the comm, echoing the wolf's thoughts.

The captain, for her part, still managed to maintain her cool. "We're still in the clear for now."

Jamie was right. On Dirk's map, the path in front and behind the squad was still surprisingly clear. For the number of enemy assets in the area, this glaring hole in their lines was quite odd. Perhaps the route 1st Platoon had taken wasn't known to their adversary? Or, more likely, they did know, and Goose just couldn't see the enemy mechs that might be lurking just around a bend of trees. Acoustic detection was a reliable technique, but it wasn't foolproof, especially if the enemy wasn't generating any noise.

The squad frequency went quiet for several long seconds, until the captain made her decision. "Ok... Dirk, Coots, and the support truck will remain here in a supporting role. Sahir and I will make our way to the ridge to see what all this activity is about. Hopefully we'll see something up there."

Dirk opened his muzzle to protest, but stopped short of words. It was not his place to question his superior's decision, no matter how reckless he thought it was. Their mission was, after all, to investigate and report any suspicious activity on part of the enemy.

The wolf had been given his job, which was to continue protecting Coots and the truck. With that simple command, Jamie had made it clear just how much trust she was placing in his ability to safeguard the others. He would be the only one standing between his vulnerable squad mates and the enemy.

No discernible apprehension was evident in the platoon's acknowledgement of the captain's orders. Their confidence in Jamie subsequently put Dirk's fears at bay. The squad, save for Goose, had been working together long before he had arrived on Treja. They knew their captain, and trusted in her judgment.

"Dirk?"

Jamie's voice snapped the wolf back to the here and now. "Uh... acknowledged," he replied hastily, inwardly reproaching himself for losing focus.

"Alright. Now let's go see what all this is about."

The wolf watched on his map as the icons representing Jamie and Sahir began to move once more, heading toward the nearby ridgeline. Their progress was no longer his concern however. Refocusing, he turned his attention to his remaining squad mate. "Coots, could you move up to the truck? It's easier for me to have you closer in case the shit hits the fan."

"Calling an audible, huh?"

Dirk grinned mirthlessly at the fox's jest as he brought his Hellhound back to a standing position. What was with this guy's fascination of football? "Yes, Mr. Quarterback. I feel a blitz coming, and I'd rather not have you hanging out there unprotected."

"Heh, fair enough."

It took roughly a minute for the fox's Hellhound to join Dirk alongside the support truck. In the meantime, Dirk took the time to run a series of diagnostic tests via the verbal command system. Everything appeared to be functioning properly. He had enough fuel to last at least three days. The piloting interface was running at optimal levels, and the mech itself was functioning well within nominal parameters. He was ready for anything his adversary could throw his way.

In the silence of his cockpit, Dirk continued to watch as the enemy's movements were updated in real-time on his HUD. Thanks to the support truck's sonar data, he had a clear picture of the jungle around him, helping to put his nerves at ease a little. As long as the enemy was moving, Goose and Lynne would detect them long before they discovered 1st Platoon. Yet, if the enemy's mechs were stationary, or worse, powered down, the sonar equipment stood little chance.

"Ya know all this trouble we're going through will be for nothing," Coots remarked idly over the comm. "For all we know, the enemy is just changin' things up to throw us off. There is probably nothing..."

"You know better than anyone Coots that we cannot turn around now," the captain chided lightly. "My gut tells me this is something big. We have to see what the enemy is up to."

Alongside Dirk, the fox's Hellhound shrank back slightly at Jamie's admonishing words. For a long moment, Coots remained silent. "Yes... you're right. I'm sorry."

"Don't worry about it." In the ensuing silence, the jackal's anxious chuckle came over the comm. "I actually hope you're right. Cause if you're wrong, we're in serious trouble."

It was Jamie's first outward sign of stress since the situation had begun to heat up. Still though, cool heads prevailed all around.

"We will get out of this fine," Sahir added confidently. "This platoon has been through far worse."

"No kidding," Coots remarked.

Dirk couldn't believe what he was hearing. What all had these intrepid soldiers endured together? Christ, it sounded like they had gone through hell and back, and this particular patrol was just a walk in the park comparatively speaking.

By now, Jamie and Sahir had begun the ascent toward the crest of the ridgeline, keeping to their path. Even with the Hellhound's stealth capabilities though, they weren't invisible to unfriendly eyes and ears. The platoon's luck couldn't hold out much longer. Or could it?

The faintest shades of light were already beginning to grace the horizon, heralding the coming of daylight. The squad had at best another hour before the protective darkness of night was peeled back by the morning sun, vastly compromising the Hellhound's stealth. You could hide from sensors all you wanted. But if someone could just look out and spot your mech visually, then all the fancy countermeasures became a moot point right quick. They needed to withdraw soon and hunker down somewhere for protection, or else get caught in the hornet's nest.

"I've got somethin' new on my scopes," Goose called out suddenly, the edge in his voice putting Dirk on high alert. "I've refined my sweeps and caught a new signal. Somethin' big... very big."

"What'da got?" Jamie inquired hastily.

"I... I dunno. It's centered in the valley... I can't scrub the echoes anymore. Bad topography over the ridgeline. It sounds like... I dunno. It sounds like the reverb of a maglev cushion."

"Can you classify?"

Goose hesitated a moment. "No... the whole damned valley is echoing the signature. Impossible to get a fix. Whateva it is, it's goddamned big!"

Dirk didn't like this one bit. What the hell was the enemy up to? And what the hell was the captain going to find when she finally crested that ridge? The whole situation was going to spin out of control any moment now. Their opponent would only remain blind, deaf, and dumb for so long before something blundered into 1st Platoon.

Just at that moment, Jamie's icon reached the ridgeline on Dirk's map. Now all she had to do was verify what the hell was going on and then they could haul ass out of this...

"Holy shit..."

The wolf's fur bristled beneath his pilot interface suit.

"What is it!" Coots called out, echoing Dirk's sudden panic. "What do ya see?"

Jamie's voice faltered for the briefest moment. "This... this is far worse than I had thought."

Dirk didn't wait for her to elaborate. "Command! Squad view, Captain Reilly."

Immediately, the HUD view from the wolf's Hellhound was replaced with a wholly different perspective. Now he found himself up on the distant ridgeline, looking down through the trees into the valley beyond. Through the stark clarity of the night vision scopes, it became painfully clear what had startled the captain so profoundly.

Squarely in Dirk's field of view was that of 2nd Battalion's old forward operations base. However, the facility was not abandoned; far from it. As far as the wolf could see, enemy units littered the once empty base. Ranks upon ranks of mechs, tanks, and infantry vehicles lined up in neat little rows, ready to take the fight to Dirk and his colleagues. There must have been at least two or three brigade's worth of military power down there. And that wasn't the worst of it!

Hovering just above the base itself were two enemy carriers. Standing at just over a kilometer long bow to stern, each starship was an impressive sight, defying gravity as they floated above the valley below. The vessels' tri-hull configuration was unique, which almost gave them the outward appearance of a trimaran sailboat, minus the sails.

Oh, what the space fleet wouldn't give to take down just one of those hulking behemoths. The carriers were the cornerstone of a space fleet armada, and consequently were prime targets for both sides of the war. All it would take was one well-placed kinetic strike...

"Jesus look at em all," Coots breathed. Obviously the fox had done the same as Dirk, and was now sharing Jamie's eyes.

"The bastards took over our old base," the captain seethed. "Fuckers just moved right in! I never would've expected something so brazen."

"Why would they move their operations so close to the lines?" Sahir asked.

"I dunno." Dirk's view through the visual link changed abruptly as Jamie looked up toward the hovering starships. "A better question is why are their carriers here of all places?"

"It does explain the readings I've been gettin'," Goose added soberly. "The magnetic field needed to keep those suckers in the air is ridiculous."

For a moment Dirk studied the hovering vessels through Jamie's perspective. There was really only one reason why such valuable assets would be here now. "They're using em as transports," the wolf spoke up finally.

Jamie's reply was incredulous. "What? Why would they do that?"

Dirk shrugged his shoulders helplessly, before he realized the motion was pointless. "Well, that I can't tell you. But look, there is a steady stream of dropships making trips between the base and carrier hangars. They must be shuttling supplies and weapons to the surface."

"Would explain how they set up shop so quickly," Jamie finally managed, conceding to Dirk's observation. The captain turned to regard Sahir's Hellhound kneeling alongside her. "When was the last patrol through this sector?"

"Ah... less than three days ago," the coyote replied over the comm. "There were no reports of unusual activity if memory serves."

"Well there certainly is now!" Once more Jamie's view returned to the starships. "Still, it's interesting they're using carriers for a job that a simple transport could do with ease. Perhaps they're suffering some logistical problems?"

"Seems that way," Dirk agreed. "Worth noting in any case. Something the spooks can chew on."

The captain hesitated a moment longer, before she turned away from the ridgeline. "Alright, I've seen enough. They're gonna surge the lines and try to push us off the peninsula. We gotta get this info to the brass ASAP."

With another verbal command, Dirk ended the visual link, allowing his sight to once more sync up with his own Hellhound. On his HUD's minimap, the captain's element turned and began quickly making its way back toward the rest of the platoon. Now it was a race against the clock to make it back to a safe location. They didn't have much time until morning came.

"Aw shit! New contact!" Goose called out in a near panic. "Goddamnit, they're fuckin' close!"

Panic seized Dirk within his cockpit. Their luck had finally run out.

Goose's anger was clear as he frantically tried to isolate the new contact. "Bearing is three-four-eight, at four hundred meters. Fuck, it's another mech platoon! They're so goddamn close I can hear the steam from their power plants!"

"Where the hell did these guys come from?" Dirk exclaimed in disbelief. On the wolf's map the row of moving dots appeared almost dead ahead of him, right on the same path. Worse, they were moving in his direction!

"I dunno! One minute there's nothin', then these fuckers just power up outa nowhere! They must've been sittin' there since we arrived!"

Without hesitation, the captain leapt into action.

"Lynne, get ready to move," Jamie ordered. "Goose, compile a flash message for command. If you are engaged, send it immediately!"

"We'll risk detection. The channel isn't as secure as our platoon comms."

"No sense worrying about that. Our primary concern is getting word out of our discovery."

Goose, for his part, didn't hesitate at the jackal's reply. "Understood."

"Dirk, don't engage unless you're spotted," Jamie added curtly. By now, she was moving toward him at quite a brisk pace. At that speed, the captain was risking detection, but she didn't have much choice.

Within his cockpit, the wolf tried to steady his nerves. "I don't intend to. The odds aren't exactly in my favor."

"Well, Give em hell if they force your hand."

Dirk allowed himself a deep breath. Steady nerves; focus on the objective. Right now the safety of the others rested squarely on his shoulders. He had to stay cool and analyze the situation carefully. With numbers not in the wolf's favor, his first move would be the most critical; the element of surprise was key.

He had trained for this, undergone countless simulations and war exercises for this very moment. He just had to rely on the proficiency of his training, as well as the Hellhound's combat prowess. Until the captain returned, this was now Dirk's play.

"Coots, hunker down as best you can," the wolf advised, turning to regard his squad mate through the trees. "There's six targets. I'll leave the leader to you. Start with him when I make my move and work your way back. This is gonna get hairy."

The fox's Hellhound knelt down alongside the support truck, railgun raised at the ready over its shoulder. "Do ya think we can take em?"

Dirk allowed himself an anxious smirk within his cockpit. "We'll find out soon enough."

With Lynne taking the support truck's driver seat once more, Goose worked frantically to stow the two sonar probes back onboard. The subsequent lack of sonar data removed all the marked enemy positions on Dirk's HUD map. However, the approaching targets were close enough that his Hellhound's own sensors could now burn through the interference enough to pick them up. As he looked on through the trees, six red outlines materialized against the jungle backdrop to mark the mechs' positions only a few hundred meters away.

If they had only had a few more minutes, Dirk might've been able to shift the platoon further into the dense foliage away from the path. But with the support truck unable to move, there was nothing the wolf could do but hold fast and hope they weren't spotted. With a little luck, the enemy might just pass them by.

Dirk steeled himself for the coming fray. "Get ready Coots."

"I'll follow your lead."

The enemy platoon continued its slow march toward the two Hellhounds, ambling along at a leisurely pace. They weren't actively searching for anything from the looks of it, which was good. In all likelihood, this was just a routine patrol, which meant the pilots probably were not all that alert. Even better...

The leading unit finally rounded the nearest bend of the trail, allowing Dirk to glimpse his opponent visually for the first time. The enemy's mobile armor was nothing like the Hellhound or Mark II designs the wolf had become familiar with in his training. This machine was less... anthropoid in appearance. While it used bipedal motion for mobility, there were no arms, merely weapon hardpoints on either side of the main chassis. Clad in thick armor, the mech had a bulky if not ungainly look, suggesting to the eye that it might be slightly top heavy, although this was obviously not the case.

The enemy platoon moved through the jungle with effortless grace, the felled trees and uneven ground an easy obstacle for the surprisingly nimble war machines to traverse. There were two types Dirk could pick out of the formation. The leader, probably the captain of the platoon, was a support type, carrying what appeared to be an assault rifle on the right side of the chassis, while a missile battery occupied the left. The unit behind him was of the same configuration, while the third was that of a tank type.

Unlike the support types, the tank had no visible main weapon, beyond that of a point defense flechette shotgun. According to intelligence briefs though, this mech was a transformer. Its true weapon was a magnetic railgun similar to what Coots used, which could only be deployed when the mobile armor transformed into a stationary gun emplacement. This type was the true mech killer, and was especially dangerous when engaging at range. However, Dirk wasn't going to let that happen.

"Two tanks and four support types running in a two-one, two-one formation," the wolf relayed over the comm channel. He had only seconds now to formulate an attack strategy.

Just stay calm; pick your target carefully... plan several moves ahead. First and foremost, account for all variables that are in play. It was like a game of chess. You had to see into the mind of your foe, and guess how he would counter when you made your first move. This was where his training really came into play.

Dirk became absolutely motionless, waiting with bated breath, legs coiled ready to pounce. His targets loomed large in the Hellhound's vision... his vision. The crisp sensor scopes showed them clear as day. He could almost reach out and touch them...

Just keep walking. There's nothing to see here.

The first unit passed him by within meters of his own Hellhound. Through his scopes Dirk could make out every intricate detail of the armor. However, he kept his attention focused on what pilots called the mech's eyeball, a series of cameras and thermal lenses mounted on a rotating sphere atop the front of the chassis. As long as they didn't look in his general direction, they would have no idea he was there.

The second unit passed him by, not so much as glancing in his general direction. Still Dirk remained frozen in place, a coiled spring ready to explode forth. He didn't dare utter a single breath.

Here came the third mech, one of the two tanks. The wolf's luck continued to hold... until...

His blood ran cold; the fourth unit stopped directly in front of Dirk's crouching Hellhound.

Fuck, keep moving you bastard...

But the mech ignored his silent plea. It stood there surveying the surrounding jungle, as if suddenly surprised by an unexpected noise or errant sensor reading. Had they detected 1st Platoon's presence?

His question was answered as the mech's eye settled squarely on Dirk. In that horrifying instant, overwhelming fear gripped the wolf. God, this was it...

Time slowed to an agonizing crawl. Everything dropped away, leaving nothing but sheer impulse.

"Now!"

A distant part of Dirk's mind registered his own voice roaring over the comm. Surging forward with raw untamed power, the wolf exploded from his position, sword and shield held at the ready.

Giving a quick squeeze of his hands, he activated his weapons' particle field emitters, creating a satisfying burst of brilliant light on his night vision scopes. In the shadow of the coming morning, the sinister cobalt glow of the Hellhound's sword and shield would be the last thing his enemies ever saw.

Dirk mechanically brought his left arm up before him, throwing his shield's bulk between the Hellhound and its unfortunate target. The enemy had been caught completely by surprise.

The satisfying force of impact reverberated through the pilot interface suit, pushing the wolf's arm back as the Aegis smashed into the enemy mech with brutal power. Immediately, the forward momentum was transferred to his target, hurling the mobile armor off the trail awkwardly, kicking up a plume of dust as trees were shredded and splintered by its tumbling bulk.

Dirk had no time to admire his handiwork. The Hellhound's sensors immediately registered a blast off to his left while the wolf dug his paws into the ground, bleeding off the rest of his forward momentum in a shower of dirt. It took every ounce of his strength to subsequently launch the mech sideways, twisting his body around to face his next target, the fifth unit of the enemy patrol.

The support type that now loomed before him stood motionless right in the middle of the open path. Bringing his sword arm up, Dirk had no intentions of letting the pilot within recover his composure. The wolf still had surprise on his side, and he damned well planned to take advantage of it.

Aim high... these things were nuclear powered, and any wrong attack of his blade could breach the core, or worse...

The particle field of the sword flared bright in Dirk's HUD as he sliced out horizontally to the side, cutting directly into the upper chassis of the mobile armor. There was hardly any resistance through the interface. In a mere instant, the blade completely slashed through the mech's thick layers of armor protection, literally cutting his foe in half horizontally.

Still Dirk pressed on, reacting purely on his instincts and training. He was pushing his mech to its absolute limits.

The dispatched target was swiftly sidestepped by his Hellhound, bringing the final unit of the enemy platoon into view. Unlike his unfortunate colleagues, the tank type was already reacting to Dirk's sudden presence.

The wolf's vision zeroed in on the flechette armament that was frantically being aimed in his general direction. However, the Hellhound was far too close for the enemy pilot to react in time.

In another blinding slice of Dirk's blade, the tank's weapon was obliterated. The momentum of his weapon's swing continued to carry him, allowing the wolf to pivot about on a paw, while he flipped his sword expertly to catch the hilt in a reverse grip in that same instant.

His blade tasted metal once more, jabbing back into the chassis of the hapless tank behind the whirling Hellhound for the killing blow.

The remaining enemy mechs were reacting now. Before Dirk stood the other tank and the last support type, the latter of which had already swiveled its upper chassis around to train its weapons on him.

"No you don't."

On pure reflex, he brought his shield arm up, just as the enemy opened fire. However, much to the wolf's outright surprise, there was no muzzle flash, no wicked lance of metal that reached out angrily toward him. What he was greeted with was far worse.

A cruel spear suddenly exploded from the enemy's weapon, flaring viciously bright in Dirk's night vision. Shit, this was a laser!

The energy shot impacted squarely against the Hellhound's shield, triggering a sharp warning tone in the cockpit. Yet, the particle field of the Aegis flared and held firm to the wolf's relief, dissipating the beam into harmless radiation.

On Dirk's HUD, the shield's strength readout indicated ninety percent. In that same instant, as he looked downrange, a small cartridge ejected itself out of his opponent's weapon. So that's how they packed so much punch. His mind quickly filed that information away for future use.

Dirk wrenched his sword from the remains of the tank behind him, allowing the mech's carcass to fall in a heap onto the jungle floor. The support type continued to stand before him unmoving, seemingly unsure what to do next. The pilot must've been trying to make sense of what had just happened. Dirk wasn't going to give him a chance to make another move.

The Hellhound responded smartly to his command, mechanical claws chewing up dirt as the mech lunged toward its next victim. In that instant, Dirk's mind tactfully assessed the situation. His target was roughly three hundred meters distant... he just had to move another few steps until... there!

With his mobile armor in a near sprint, the wolf curled his toes inside the interface's boots, activating the jump jets. Immediately, the two thrusters mounted on the small of the Hellhound's back fired, lifting the massive mech up off the ground on a pillar of dazzling flame.

The change in momentum was quite noticeable to Dirk, even through the cockpit's inertial damper. His view rapidly changed as the forest shrank beneath him, giving way to a stellar view of the distant horizon and coming sunrise. Just over a second elapsed before he again relaxed his toes, cutting off the thrusters to let gravity reassert itself.

The Hellhound quickly began to plunge from the sky as Dirk expertly positioned his shield between him and the enemy mech below. However, the defensive move proved unnecessary. The enemy's second shot lanced through the sky just behind the falling Hellhound, missing completely. His opponent's fate was now sealed.

In a thunderous report Dirk landed directly on top of the enemy mech, his shield absorbing most of the enormous impact force as all manner of debris was kicked up around him. His sword found its mark, thrusting directly into the cockpit all the way to the hilt. The Hellhound's judgment of its foe was absolute, and without mercy.

Dirk found himself panting; the exertion was beginning to take its toll. There was just one more target left...

The wolf wheeled about to find the last tank standing one hundred meters away, frozen in place.

In that instant, Dirk wondered distantly just what he looked like standing over the crumpled corpse of his latest victim... like some sort of demonic reaper come from the depths of hell to carry out his unholy judgment. The thought was disconcerting, and quickly shoved out of mind.

A muffled report suddenly reverberated through the cockpit. On Dirk's HUD, the enemy tank abruptly disappeared behind the concussive explosion of a sabot round impact. The devastation was unreal, as the kinetic energy of the round was imparted directly onto the upper chassis of the mech, ripping a gaping hole into the thick armor. When the smoked cleared, there was literally nothing left but the legs and lower frame, which housed the nuke reactor; a good, clean kill.

Dirk had almost forgotten about Coots. His squad mate's Hellhound was still crouched alongside the support truck, railgun shouldered and aimed toward where the ill-fated tank had been standing.

"Jesus Dirk," the fox breathed over the comm. "You fuck'n decimated em."

His colleague's words startled the wolf. All at once, the adrenaline bled off, leaving Dirk momentarily lightheaded. He suddenly felt exhausted and couldn't stop from panting as the gravity of what had just happened finally hit home.

What had he just done?

It had all happened so fast...

Before him were the remains of five enemy mechs, two of which had obviously met the business end of Coots's railgun. Only the one support type, the first target Dirk had leveled with his initial shield charge, still showed any signs of life. The mobile armor lay sprawled awkwardly along the side of the open trail, unable to right itself due to damage sustained by the vicious impact.

In a dazed stupor, Dirk began moving over to finish the job. Yet, much to his relief, the captain finally arrived, kicking up a plume of dirt as her Hellhound skidded to a stop alongside him.

"Nicely done, Dirk," Jamie commended, nearly out of breath from her run. Without hesitation, she raised her assault rifle and promptly emptied several rounds into the crippled enemy mech. "We've just stirred up the nest though. Goose, did ya get the transmission off?"

"Yeah, nothin' indicating the enemy picked it up. But I'd rather not wait around to find out otherwise."

"Agreed. Let's move."

The captain wasted no time making off down the trail back toward friendly territory, the rest of the platoon swiftly moving to follow in her wake. For a moment though, Dirk remained their standing over the now lifeless remains of the enemy mech.

He had always envisioned his first victory as a triumphant accomplishment, something that he could take great pride in as a soldier. But this... it just didn't feel right.

The enemy didn't know what had hit them. One moment, they were on routine patrol, and the next a shadowy demon was carving them up mercilessly.

Dirk shook his head with a scoff. What was he thinking? No, this skirmish had been a huge accomplishment.

Not only had he proven his combat effectiveness to the platoon and captain, he had also proven it to himself above all else. This wasn't another training exercise... this was the real thing. There was no reset button in case Dirk fucked up, no instructor standing over his shoulder ready to offer critique of the wolf's actions, no margin for error whatsoever. Out here, any mistake was fatal. The thought was sobering to say the least.

The distinct sound of incoming rocket propelled artillery shells suddenly snapped Dirk out of his inaction. All across the jungle, anti-air batteries opened up to meet the barrage, further filling the sky with angry tracers. The subsequent muffled explosions that echoed throughout the cockpit were enough to finally get him moving. It seemed the artillery division was already acting on Goose's message.

1st Platoon wasn't out of danger yet. The enemy would be looking for them, and there was still plenty of real estate they had to cover before reaching friendly territory. Making matters worse, morning had already come, casting a series of deep blue hues across the sky; they had to hurry...

***************

Several hours, and one fur-raising jaunt later, 1st Platoon found itself back on friendly soil. There had been a few close calls, including one instance where the captain had nearly been tripped over by an enemy patrol. But thanks to the Hellhound's stealth, and a little luck, the squad had been able to sneak away while the forest erupted in chaos all around them.

Now with the front lines behind him, Dirk could finally let himself genuinely relax and reflect upon the success of his prototype weapons. The Aegis system had proven its worth in quite a dramatic fashion, far surpassing his expectations. To say that the wolf had been relieved that the concept worked at all was quite an understatement. After all, the Aegis design was his innovation, a fact that only a handful of people knew.

What had started out as a crude drawing on a paper receipt had evolved into the formidable weapons Dirk now wielded, however humble in appearance they might've been. The idea was actually quite intriguing when the wolf considered it, that in a war dominated by lasers and advanced munitions, a relatively primitive concept such as the sword and shield could still be viable. Not to say that his weapons weren't sophisticated in their own right; that was beside the point.

Now that Dirk knew the Aegis system worked, the next step was to analyze the battle data and refine the weapon emitters to optimize power usage and particle profiles. He'd need a workstation to read the data, and then appropriate tools for calibration... but first the wolf had to complete the patrol before he could do any of that. The enticing numbers would have to wait for now.

For some time, the platoon had been idly talking about random things as they made their way down the dirt path single file, Dirk once more bringing up the rear. He hadn't paid the conversation any mind, instead relegating himself to his thoughts; the dialogue was mostly about subject matter he had no knowledge or interest in anyway. However, the sudden change in topic by his squad mates now caught his attention.

"... Goddamn was Dirk amazing to watch," Coots enthused, recounting the earlier skirmish. "I don't think I've ever seen a Hellhound move that fast. Not even the captain's."

The wolf inwardly cringed. He didn't like where this was going.

"Faster than me, huh?" Jamie questioned, her tone unreadable over the comm.

"Oh, ya bet. He can run circles around you."

Dirk could practically hear the captain's grin. "I'll have to review the footage to see for myself then."

"He did take out four enemy mechs in mere seconds," Lynne added. There was a jesting tone to her words. "Not even the legendary Reaper can manage that."

Jamie feigned indignation. "Well, Reaper never had to resort to melee combat to surprise her opponents, did she?"

Coots wasn't sold on her reply. "Aw come on capt'n. You tell'n us your AR does better than his sword in a brawl?"

"I don't let my opponents get close enough for it to be an issue."

"Good point."

By now the platoon had crossed over the outer most perimeter of the forward operations base, which mostly constituted a sophisticated sensor network. It was still another twenty kilometers until they actually made it back to the hangar.

"Let's consider a hypothetical case then," Sahir proposed, cutting into the momentary silence. "Who would win in a duel between Dirk and Reaper?"

The wolf in question started so violently, that he nearly hit his head on the overhead bulkhead as he flew out of his seat. Thankfully, the Hellhound was operating on autopilot, else his reaction might've had unintended consequences.

The coyote's thought provoked a hardy chuckle from Jamie. "What brought that up?"

"I don't know. Just musing aloud I guess."

"Now there's something worth thinkin' bout," Coots remarked, the fox's smirk seeping into his voice.

Dirk finally worked up the composure to speak. "I don't think that would even be a contest. The captain would obviously wipe the floor with me."

"Not so fast," Jamie replied. "I think Coots and Sahir have a point."

"What? No, you would definitely have the edge. I mean, look, you have loads of combat experience and a lot of kills under your belt..."

"Don't sell yourself short," the captain chided lightly, interrupting Dirk. "What you did earlier was a feat that I've never seen before... ever. Lynne is right; there is no way I could pull that off."

Hearing Jamie speak so frankly about what he had done left the wolf at a loss for words. Killing those four mechs wasn't all that impressive an achievement was it? He had carried out similar engagements countless times in simulations, in many cases with the odds stacked further against him, and managed to pull off victories more often than not. In terms of difficulty, four on one wasn't all that challenging when he considered what he had trained for. But it certainly wasn't a walk in the park either.

Coots took advantage of Dirk's pause. "That shield of his absorbed a direct hit from a laser. I'm sure it could handle a few measly rounds from your AR, and then some."

"Oh I'm sure of that," Jamie agreed. "In a duel between the two of us, Dirk would probably have my number with ease. I hate to say it, but I'm putting my chips on him, even though it means betting against myself."

You could hear a pin drop in the ensuing silence that followed. Obviously the rest of the platoon was as shocked as Dirk was at the captain's words.

"That's... that's a first from you," Lynne finally managed to say. "Reaper admitting she has a better. Damn... that's a shock to the system."

"Don't get me wrong though. I'd still give him a run for his money. But, if he can absorb a direct laser hit, then it would be only a matter of time before I ran outa ammo and Mr. Knight closed in to finish me off with that fancy sword of his."

Within his cockpit, Dirk cringed. He could almost hear Coots's eyebrow arching. He knew exactly where this was going.

"Knight?" the fox echoed curiously, as if weighing the meaning of the title. "Yes, that makes sense. Dirk does look like some sort of feudal knight with that broadsword he uses. I think you're on to somethin' there capt'n."

Jamie seemed to mull it over a few moments. "Yeah, why not. I think he deserves it."

"A fitting title for our newest colleague," Sahir agreed.

And just like that, Dirk's callsign was decided, completely without his input whatsoever. It was something he never would've expected to happen after only his first engagement.

"So, now we have Knight and Reaper," Goose chimed in. "Like two sides of a coin."

The captain chuckled wickedly. "You make it sound like I'm some sort of twisted hellspawn."

"From what the others say, that might not be far from the truth."

"Well, wolfy better watch what he says, else I might go outa my way to prove him right." Her words were harsh, but were spoken in jest, much to Goose's amusement.

"Oh, I don't doubt you can, capt'n."

"You're playing with fire mate," Lynne teased. "Best be careful, else you might end up on the wrong side of Reaper's fists... much like a certain unfortunate marine last week at the base's watering hole."

Goose found the dingo's warning intriguing. "Do tell."

"Suffice it to say, the drunk'n idiot tried to cop a feel. I only got there in time to witness the aftermath; a busted chair, five shattered beer mugs, and one fucked up fox laying atop a table in a bloody daze. The best part is that no one sold the captain out to the MPs when they got there, not even her victim."

"How'd she manage that?"

"Well, first off, nobody wants to admit they got fucked up by a woman," Jamie replied with no lack of malice. "Especially a marine. And second, I ever so carefully informed my would-be groper that I'd rip his nuts off if he ever uttered a word. Everyone else got the hint."

That was enough to finally shake up Goose. "Jesus, you must've put the fear of god into em."

"Perhaps... I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy beating the ever lovin' shit outa him. Bastard deserved every bit of it."

"I'm sure he won't go around groping anyone ever again," Coots added. "You made sure of that."

"You better believe it."

Again, Dirk was reminded why it was not a good idea to get on the captain's bad side. He didn't want to know what it was like to be on the wrong end of her anger. If she could fuck up a marine that badly, who knew what else she was capable of...

The conversation quickly moved on to other topics. For a few minutes, Dirk listened in silence, until his thoughts began to wander once more.

All things considered, he had actually lucked out with his callsign. He knew of many colleagues who had fared far worse. A good majority of pilots earned their names through mistakes and embarrassing accidents. Thankfully, Dirk had managed to avoid any faux pas that might have condemned him to such an undesirable designation. Knight wasn't a bad callsign by any means. He certainly could grow to like it.

It took almost another hour for 1st Platoon to reach the forward operations base. By now, the sun was well on its way to reaching its zenith in the clear sky above, baking the surrounding tropical landscape in its merciless heat; just another unbearably hot and humid day in hell.

Dirk had to stifle a yawn when the base perimeter finally came into sight. He had been going for well over forty eight hours now. Sleep was the only thing he wanted. But that would have to wait. First, the platoon had to be debriefed, and the Hellhounds secured back in the hangar. And then there was all the equipment that had arrived with him on the transport yesterday; somebody had to secure it...

He wasn't going to get any shuteye anytime soon.

Sighing wearily, Dirk stood once more within the cockpit of his mech. He had enjoyed letting the Hellhound pilot itself over the past few hours, but now all the activity around the base required an actual pilot at the controls for safe navigation.

When the interface visor was once more covering the wolf's eyes, his view filled with the familiar sight of Coots's mech before him. Since there was no threat of combat, the fox had swung his hefty railgun off the Hellhound's shoulder to carry it much like a bulky suitcase, so that he could travel more comfortably. Even with the mobile armor bearing a weapon's full weight, a pilot's body still suffered from fatigue when using the interface suit, especially when you had to hold a massive railgun over the shoulder for hours on end.

Dirk, himself, had opted to stow his beam sword alongside its spare on the magnetic holder against his Hellhound's upper back. That only left the sizeable Aegis shield on his left arm, which he took great pains not to accidently ram into anything as he walked. Still though, only having to worry about one arm was a huge relief.

"Lynne and Goose, once we reach the hangar, begin securing the Hellhounds," Jamie ordered, just as the platoon crossed onto the base facility. "The rest of us are to report to the command bunker ASAP. They want a firsthand account of our patrol, as well as combat data on those laser rifles the enemy was fielding."

"Wait, those lasers I went up against aren't standard loadouts for the enemy mechs?" Dirk asked in surprise.

"No, they typically employ projectile weapons on the support types. We've only encountered this new weapon platform once or twice over the past few months. There isn't much data on it yet."

"Oh... I see."

That was troubling news. And yet, maybe it wasn't. In that short engagement, Dirk had proven that his Aegis shield could easily handle a direct shot from this new weapon. The Hellhound's data recorders would have captured every possible aspect of the encounter, from the initial shield bash right up until the platoon vacated the area. That data right there was far more important for the war effort than information on enemy movements. They obviously couldn't delay.

All around Dirk, base personnel stopped in their tracks to watch the Hellhound squad proceed by. According to Jamie, this was the first time 1st Platoon had returned or departed during daylight hours. Most, if not all, of the people out there in that afternoon heat had probably never seen a Mark IV, or even knew the mech existed to begin with. Their looks were one of wonder and curiosity.

It must've been quite a sight to see, a squad of eighteen meter tall demonic wolves, clad in armor as black as the night, walking through the base as if nothing was amiss. The thought brought a slight grin to the pilot.

One particular group of gawkers soon caught Dirk's eye. They were marines by the looks of it, dressed in formal uniforms with each soldier totting a large duffle bag over their shoulder. Like him, they must've arrived on the transport the day prior. The formal attire was a clear giveaway.

It struck the wolf how he had been the one standing down there on the side of that dirt road not twenty four hours ago, watching a mech platoon return from a patrol. Back then, he had felt like an outsider who didn't belong, an untested soldier not worth his weight in a combat situation. What had those pilots thought about him as they passed him by? Had they even noticed his presence at all?

Without thinking, Dirk brought his free hand up in the form of a salute as he regarded the marines below. Their surprise at his Hellhound's gesture was quite amusing. He had to give them credit though, for they recovered their composure quickly. As one, the entire group of soldiers returned his salute crisply, and with a professional poise the wolf couldn't help but marvel at.

Dirk smiled to himself as he continued on in the wake of his comrades. Those intrepid soldiers down there were not unlike him, fresh and eager to prove their worth fighting for a cause they believed in. Even though they were separated by rank and role, both marines and pilot alike served by the same unofficial motto of the core.

"I am a soldier, I fight where I am told, and I win where I fight."