Ravens of Eternity

34 Synthetic Terror, Pt Squadron Nightraven had done much the same to the other enemy drones around them, and shredded most of them to pieces without much of a fight. The other shield wings also made quick work of their enemies, although they didn’t tear through them like Nightraven did.

They used more brutal methods.

Mantis’ wing slammed shield-first into the drones and knocked them off-balance even further. Some were hit so hard that they were thrown back down to the ground. The cadets then pounded them relentlessly with their maces. This cracked their armor and warped their structure to a great degree.

Some even made sure to knock the rifles out of their hands, before they crushed their arms into useless ribbons of metal.

They didn’t have the efficiency or precision that squadron Nightraven had, and weren’t able to disable or destroy most of their targets in a single hit. But they were able to damage them with their blunt weapons, some rather severely.

Eva scanned the battlefield and noted that they had torn through most of the first line of enemy drones rather easily. But that was far from the end of it.

Not only were the first line recovering from their attack, but the second line were charging in their direction, their guns up and at the ready.

“Form up! Form up!” she yelled. “Wave incoming!”

The cadets that were in melee quickly fell back into position and set their tower shields in front of them. They had changed their formation so each row of shield mecha was accompanied by a row of machine gun mecha right behind.

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This gave them the ability to move forward and shoot while still having cover to duck behind.

Call it nouveau phalanx.

Clover’s cadets quickly shot bursts of fire from their machine guns. They struck any drones that were still active and operational, tore through their weakened armor, and shredded them with ease.

Only a handful of the first line drones had remained after that, but they didn’t have time to delete all of them. The moment the second line came into range, they immediately fired at Eva’s unit en masse. Their slugs smashed through everything in front of them, like a wave of steel and thunder.

They dented and deformed fortifications, and even blew through some of the cadets’ shields where they were weakest. The surprised cadets behind them suddenly found the exposed portions of their mecha annihilated, and were nearly thrown back violently.

The force of those shots were incredible!

Some of the other cadets also weren’t as lucky. Parts of their mecha that were protruding from cover were blown off completely. One of the fortifications was torn apart so badly that the cadets behind them were also ripped to shreds.

The enemy drones halted their fire to reload and recharge their batteries. And Eva didn’t waste a moment of it.

“Advance!” she ordered.

The machine gun cadets popped out from behind the shield mecha and fired endless streams of bullets at the enemy drones. Many of them were struck, and their armor became dented and mangled by the torrent of ammunition.

Some were peppered so thoroughly that their guns, arms, and torsos were disintegrated into slag.

The shield cadets from the rear quickly ran up to the front and made a new shield wall while their accompanying gun cadets came up right behind them.

The gun mecha that were firing went back down behind their shield cover. Their barrels glowed a deep orange, but cooled back down to their normal dull grey after a time.

When the drones lifted up from their cover, they discovered that their enemies had advanced forward and were closer to their position. The shields up front were also pristine and undamaged.

Had there been actual thinking humans in those drones, they would have reconsidered their tactics. They probably would have even retreated.

But these mecha were simple things, controlled remotely and given simple orders. All they saw were targets to be eliminated. It didn’t matter what condition they were in. As long as there were active hostile signals in front of them, they would fire at them until the end.

They mindlessly shot their bursts at the shield wall once again, and severely damaged them along with a few unlucky mecha. When they were done, the pattern repeated. Gun cadets fired back, and shield cadets replaced the front line.

Their systematic advance worked well against these mindless drones.

Eva ordered all of the damaged mecha to withdraw to get repairs. The cadets slid away from the front and headed towards the repair yard where every r/r cadet was in full overdrive fix everything mode.

Unlike the rest of the units, Wrench’s squadrons were mostly r/r. In fact, their numbers were pretty much opposite as everyone else’s. Almost all of his squadrons consisted of two r/r wings and one infantry wing.

This allowed him to lend his squadrons to the frontline units to help with their repairs. This also gave them a level of autonomy, though Wrench made sure to keep their supplies topped up. His own squadron brought supplies to them as they requested it: repair materials, ammunition, food, medicine, everything.

Basically, he and his squadron acted as their primary repair depot, supply chain, and communications hub while the rest performed out in the field. His system was incredibly efficient, and kept everyone’s mecha in great working order.

Without his efforts, none of them would have made it out alive.

The r/r wings that bolstered Spartan’s unit were beyond happy to get reinforced by Copernicus’ wing. Their overall output was greatly enhanced by their efforts, and it allowed the yard to keep moving swiftly.

Some mecha were too far gone to help, however, and were instead taken apart for their parts. Because the enemy’s rifles were so incredibly brutal, this ended up being the best way for them to do repairs.

The r/r wing simply removed any mecha limbs that were rendered completely useless, and swapped them out. Any mecha where their main body was greatly damaged, they simply had the cadet swap their chassis altogether.

One end of the repair yard was piled up with parts that were torn and shredded and useless. The r/r wings were primarily tossing the old parts to the side. They didn’t know what else to do with them, except move them out of the way.

In the open space just beyond the piles, Eva’s artillery wing had set up shop.

From the moment they arrived at Spartan’s encampment, they spent the time to locate a good spot, and hunkered down.

They had their drones guard them while they entrenched themselves in the dirt. Their dual shoulder-mounted cannons were simply too powerful, and the kickback they made would have easily thrown their mecha around like dolls.

They couldn’t just fire them while standing, as that would have caused serious damage to themselves.

In order to combat this, they just needed to dig in and let the ground keep them steady. However, since they didn’t have the time or tools to do so, they instead dug channels into the ground and placed their lower legs down into them.

They looked similar to runners that braced themselves on running blocks, except these were down in the ground rather than above, and positioned the mecha with a 60 degree forward-leaning angle. It allowed them to brace themselves against the ground without having to spend an entire cycle digging into a foxhole.

Their postures weren’t like runners, however. Instead, their backs and one of their legs were straight as an arrow to ensure that the force of their cannonfire would disperse properly into the ground. Their other leg was bent and elevated, so they could maintain their balance.

“Artillery ready,” said their squad leader, Screwdriver.

Eva scanned the battlefield as her squadron was getting smashed by rapidfire slugs. Moments ago, she was given some recon intel by Sunflower, who had identified a number of prime targets. The two of them determined that they were the enemy’s front line repair yard, so Eva marked their coordinates.

“On my mark,” she said. “Fire when ready.”

“Yes, unit leader,” he replied.

The artillery wing adjusted their cannons and their footing. Although the changes were only a few degrees here or there, each movement had to be careful and precise. Otherwise, they could miss their marks completely, and even hit targets they didn’t want to hit.

Once everyone was set, the entire wing fired their cannons simultaneously.

The unified blast was deafening, and a shockwave pulsed outwards from the artillery wing. Rocks and debris were thrown back from each of the mecha, a result of the blasts’ massive recoil.

Each of the mecha were driven further into the ground, and their legs ended up buried by half a meter. The cannons themselves slid down their recoil tubes before they slowly ascended back into place.

The power of the blast rippled through the ground in a disconcerting wave, and finally petered out when it reached the front line hundreds of meters away.

Over two dozen 200mm shells, the same size as the ones on the Diomedes, flew over Spartan’s encampment. They soared above the front line, past the drones they were fighting, and reached high into the sky. They then turned downwards towards a group of mecha a few hundred meters back.

On the ground, dozens of enemy drones were putting each other back together. Although none of them were dedicated repair drones, they still had the capacity to perform simple repairs. They had in-built repair guns on one of their arms, and had nanorepair modules to assist. It was crude, but effective enough.

They continued with their duties, oblivious to the devastation that they were about to be a part of. Their only orders were to repair each other, and not much else. Even if their sensors had picked up the incoming fire, they didn’t have any instructions to counter them.

The shells spun faster and faster as they descended down on the enemy drones, their only purpose about to meet fulfilment.

The ground shook as the shells struck right on the mark. Pure devastation rained down on those drones, and pounded them into the ground.

Shell after shell struck down, and everyone within a kilometer felt the force of every single impact.

Each shell left craters in the ground that were 10 meters wide and 5 meters deep. At the bottom of each of these craters were the bent and twisted remains of what used to be mecha.

As Eva advanced her front line, the machine gun cadets mowed down the drones around them. They chewed through their armor and weakened them greatly.

The enemy drones still put up a great fight. Although many were damaged, they still fired their rifles with precision.

Despite the fact that they were doing incredibly well, Eva’s unit simply couldn’t last forever. Their repair materials and ammunition were starting to run low. Many of the cadets had been hit and had to retreat for repairs.

Their front line had been reduced, and every loss reduced their effectiveness.

Eva grit her teeth as multiple slugs slammed into her shield. She identified which drones were firing at her and targeted them. She then peeked out with her beamcannon and fired.

She sliced them across their chests one by one, and bisected them on the spot. Cut off from their major modules and components, the confounded drones simply stood there. They could do nothing but shut down as their power plants leaked energy.

Other enemy drones suddenly rose out of their cover at the same time, aimed their rifles downrange towards Eva’s unit, and squeezed their triggers.

Their repair yard had been totaled, and so going backward was no longer part of their command set. This opened up a new set of instructions, which had determined that concentrated fire was the only way to win their current engagement.

Instead of peppering the entire area, they instead bore down on specific cadets in the shield wall, who were utterly obliterated under the fire. Their shields caved from the barrage of slugs, unable to protect the cadets behind them. Even the gun cadets behind the shields were torn to pieces.

Nearly a couple dozen cadets fell to the concentrated fire, their mecha became twisted, blood-soaked wrecks...

They were quickly dragged away by the others, but for many of them it was far too late. Those who weren’t immediately turned to paste were instead torn in half. The luckiest of them had only suffered dismemberments.

Their screams filled their open cores, and rose out into the Martian air, where they were drowned out by the sounds of battle.

But before the enemy drones could fire another burst, the unit’s drone mecha came in from both flanks. They had spent their time moving themselves silently into position. The unit needed to use them in the most effective way possible, and the opportunity had finally presented itself.

They came out of cover and attacked the enemy wholesale. Their hodge-podge weapons fired into the enemies, shredded their already-damaged armor, and ripped apart the structure beneath.

Many of the enemy drones were outright destroyed by this flanking attack, and completely opened up their defenses. As they swung around to switch targets, Eva took the initiative to mop them up.

“Charge! Charge now!” she ordered.

Every shield wing then rushed forward and crashed into the remaining enemy drones. Their attacks were fast and brutal and filled with anger. Every gun wing immediately followed them, determined to wipe them out in this final push.

They intended to make them pay for every cadet they had massacred. Their maces pounded their cores over and over while their guns fired round after round at point-blank range.

But there wasn’t any satisfaction in crushing the drones – they didn’t have minds or hearts. They didn’t understand vengeance or justice. They didn’t scream in pain or beg for mercy.

They simply fell over and shut down, blind to the cadets’ anger.

By the end of the skirmish, Eva’s squadron had taken some serious losses and some of the cadets had died. Everyone’s mecha was damaged to some degree, and their resources were critically low.

But for the first time since this battle had started, they had pushed the line forward, and devastated the enemy in their wake.

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