Greenies

'They neutralized the arty so the ground pounders won't have to get pulverized into oblivion anymore. That's good. And now they're going after the supply column to keep the WestHems from resupplying. That's good too — if it's successful. But don't forget, while those five hundred tanks are out here, the main line is now missing more than a third of it's tank support to help fight off the main thrust. If they push through the main line because we don't have enough tanks to fight them off... well, they'll occupy Eden in a few hours. If that happens this whole brilliant maneuver was for nothing, wasn't it?'

'Well... yeah, I guess you have kind of a point there.'

'I sure as shit wouldn't want to be one of those poor slobs in the trenches,' Brian said. 'When those WestHem marines start moving on them a lot of them are going to get a lot worse than just some skin off their asses.'

They flew on, making another course change and then another, their wing following their motions blindly, acting on faith in Brian's skills and Matt's navigation. Soon they reached the IP.

'Thirty seconds to target,' Matt said. 'I'm picking up multiple search radars and active IR from the column. Nothing strong enough to get a hit off us. Mostly leaky signals coming around the peak.'

'Static,' Brian said, screwing up his concentration to the max. 'Your lasers?'

'Charged and ready,' Matt said. 'I'm gonna try to hit two tanks per pass but three seconds ain't much time when they're scattered among the supply train.'

'Do the best you can,' Brian said. 'That's all you can do. You got my vectors?'

'When you clear the last hill cut hard right to two-seven-seven. When the carrot moves cut right again to zero-zero-three and pull up to three-four-seven meters AGL.'

'Got it,' Brian said. 'And here we go.'

They shot out over the valley and cut hard to the right. Matt felt the sting in his ass again, felt more blood gush out, but he hardly noticed, so intent was he on the mass of targets that suddenly appeared on his screen. He saw towing tanks and SALs and dozens upon dozens of tanker cars and boxcars. But the targets were more than six kilometers away and the plane was moving fast. Matt wasn't able to spot and turn his targeting recticle on an actual main battle tank until they were already turning back toward the mountains and safety. He pushed the firing button for cannon number one and saw the distinctive double flash of a direct hit. A second later, before he could even begin to target a second MBT, they were back in the hills, all the targets gone from his screen. This was one more tank then their wing managed to hit.

'Damn,' Matt mumbled. 'Only one hit.'

'You'll do better next time,' Brian said. 'It's a bitch of a mission. You got our return course up?'

'Left to two-nine-eight in three, two, one,' Matt said.

They circled around again, coming in from further to the west this time and targeting the rear of the formation. Once again Matt was only able to hit one tank but this time the wing managed to hit two. As they disappeared back into the hills there came an eruption of flashes from the SALs as they opened up, trying desperately to make one of those coveted lucky shots. The two planes disappeared without incident. They then came in from the east again two minutes later. This time Matt managed to hit two tanks and the wing hit one.

'Now we're sucking some clit!' Brian said as he dove into the safety of the hills once again.

In all the eight planes made five runs apiece. None of them were hit by the SALs although Brian and Matt's wing had one of the lasers pass within two meters of them (they would never know this, however, and so therefore would never be bothered by how close to death or capture they'd come). In all they managed to kill a grand total of twenty-seven of the fifty-eight tanks of the protection battalion before they were recalled.

'Why are they pulling us back?' Brian asked. 'We're on a fuckin' roll here.'

'Our tanks are moving in,' Matt replied. 'They'll be in engagement range in less than thirty seconds.'

'All right then,' Brian said. 'Wish them luck. Get us a course back to the main line so we can take out a few more APCs before we have to go in for fuel.'

'You'll have it in one minute, boss,' Matt told him.

Four hundred and ninety-five Martian main battle tanks waded into the supply column, forming a semi-circle around it, and began to fire their lasers. The lead tanks in each sector, including the one crewed by Zen, Belinda, and Xenia, were tasked with anti-armor duties. The rest went after the tanker cars and the ammunition carriers.

'Target, tank!' Zen called out to Xenia as two tanks in their line suddenly exploded. 'One o'clock. Get the fucker, X!'

She got him, blowing a hole in it and sending the turret flying with a single shot. She panned back and forth, searching for more tanks and found one peeking out between two of the supply cars. It's lasers flashed and two more Martian tanks exploded. Xenia fired on it, killing it.

The first of the ammunition carriers went up a few seconds later. There was a brilliant flash and the entire car was ripped to shreds, the concussion enough to overturn the two adjacent cars in its line, the shrapnel ripping into one with enough force to cause it to explode as well. This overturned two of the hydrogen carriers. Soon, other ammo cars began to explode too.

'They're reporting that three shots will take out an ammo carrier,' Zen said. 'They have to be exactly in the same place though, not just overlapping a little.'

'I got another tank,' Xenia said, panning that way, waiting impatiently for her laser to recharge. 'It just came into my zone. It's not firing at the moment.'

'Probably recharging,' Belinda said as she brought them in a little closer.

Xenia's charge light came on. She fired at the tank and watched it explode. 'Target down,' she said. 'You see anything else in the zone, Zen?'

'No more MBTs in our zone,' he reported. 'It sounds like we already got most of them across the board. Start hitting the hydrogen carriers.'

'Fuckin' aye,' she said, putting her targeting recticle on one of the cylindrical cars. When the charge light came on she fired, hitting it dead center and causing a bright flash to flare. As the flare faded there was a solid heat signature left behind. She kept her recticle directly on it until the other cannon was charged. She fired. The flash came again and the heat signature grew brighter. She waited impatiently until the first charge light came on again. She fired. Once again there was a bright flash but no penetration of the tank.

'Damn, that is some tough-ass armor plating they got there,' she said.

Her other cannon reported charged and she fired for the fourth time. This time she achieved a burn-through of the armor. The results weren't all that dramatic. The side of the tanker buckled open and a cloud of vapor suddenly rushed out at high speed, engulfing the car for a few seconds before rising into the air and dissipating. Though hydrogen was one of the most flammable gases in existence there was not enough oxygen in the Martian atmosphere for it to burn even when a high intensity laser seared into it. But drama wasn't what they were going for here. The gas was all gone for that tanker, floating in the Martian atmosphere now, useless to the WestHem marines who relied on it to fuel their military machines.

Ammunition cars began to explode with more regularity now, scattering the cars around them, occasionally causing secondary explosions, a few times causing chain reaction explosions of four or five cars at a time. Within five minutes the entire column was in tatters, with overturned cars and debris lying everywhere. A giant but brief fireball erupted at one point when the dissipating hydrogen from one tanker mixed with the dissipating oxygen from another tanker and was penetrated by one of the lasers, thus fulfilling the three requirements of combustion — fuel, oxidizer, and ignition source.

'That was some shit,' Xenia said, blinking her eyes to clear the afterimages the flash had caused. The concussion from the blast had been strong enough to rock their tank.

'That ain't propaganda,' Zen agreed.

While Xenia went to work on her next target a platoon of dismounted marines suddenly appeared from the carnage, anti-tank lasers in their hands. 'Zen!' Xenia said, alarmed as they began to set up their shots.

'Keep firing,' Zen said. 'I've got 'em.' He grabbed the controls for the 4mm machine gun and put his recticle on the center of the platoon. He opened up, spraying bullets across them, killing many, and causing the others to go diving for cover back in the carnage. Other tanks took up the cause as well, sending their own machine gun fire after them. A few sent eighty-millimeter shells in their direction, proximity bursting them and blowing the exposed marines to pieces. The threat from the dismounts was neutralized before they could get off a single shot.

'All units,' a voice said in Zen's ear. 'Lead elements of the WestHem tank forces are now less than eight