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Goddess of War

A.C. Haskins

“All tracks, this is Arrow Five.” The radio in Sergeant First Class Lily Hanover’s helmet crackled with the company executive officer’s voice. “Buffalo Company reports a minefield vicinity Checkpoint Papa, approximately five-zero-zero meters by one-zero-zero meters running east to west. Give it a wide berth and carry on to Objective Guardian Three.”

Lily heard her platoon leader acknowledge the XO’s report as she quickly scanned the touchscreen in Athena’s command station. Checkpoint Papa was on the western border of their platoon’s line of advance, meaning they’d have to adjust course. The minefield popped up on her screen within seconds, its exact location transmitted from the XO’s system to every vehicle in the company—his radio call was more of a courtesy than a necessity. She touched an icon on the screen acknowledging the update, then another that prompted the computer to recommend a new route around the obstacle. The new path showed up a few seconds later, flashing bright green; she accepted the recommendation with another tap and then forwarded it to the other three tanks in her platoon.

She keyed the platoon net. “Olympians, this is Athena. Company reports a minefield; we’ll have to go around. Anyone have a problem with the recommended route I just pushed?”

“This is Apollo,” the commander of her wingman tank answered with his slow Alabama drawl. “Looks a mite bumpy.”

“That it does, Apollo,” she acknowledged, “but I don’t see another option unless Ares cares to request a boundary shift.” The new route would require the platoon to drive up and down the steep sides of a series of moraines nonstop for a kilometer and a half. This region of eastern Europe was lousy with the low ridges, deposited millennia ago by the glaciers that covered the area in the last ice age, but the area they now had to cross was the roughest she’d seen yet. It would be slow going.

“Negative, Athena,” Lieutenant Kerry rejected her subtle suggestion. “We’ll push through.”

Lily rolled her eyes. The lieutenant had only joined the platoon a week ago—he hadn’t struck her as a bad sort thus far, but he was brand spanking new, fresh from Basic Officer Training. She, on the other hand, was the most experienced tank platoon sergeant in the division and had been kicking Russian ass up and down Ukraine and Belarus for months. But this was the US Army, where rank was everything: regardless of Lily’s experience and qualifications, the twenty-two-year-old lieutenant had final say on all life-and-death tactical decisions for the four tanks of Second Platoon, A Company, 1st Battalion, 44th Heavy Armor Regiment. Such was the way of the world.

“Roger, Ares,” she acknowledged, her tone conveying no hint of her irritation. She was a professional.

“Let’s move out, Olympian Platoon,” the lieutenant ordered. “Wedge formation, heavy left. Artemis, you have eyes on the sky.”

“Roger, eyes up,” Staff Sergeant Beth Jordan called back.

Lily tapped a green button next to the touchscreen, instructing Athena’s driving computer to move along the programmed route. The M-39 Griffith tank’s sensor suite let it maneuver around obstacles and find the most appropriate line of travel along their route, automatically coordinating with the rest of the platoon’s tanks to maintain proper speed and formation. Unlike the human drivers in the old Abrams tanks they’d replaced, a Griff’s driver never misunderstood the tank commander’s instructions—or fell asleep when the tank stopped for more than thirty seconds, for that matter.

“What fun,” her gunner muttered over the intercom.

“You said it,” Lily replied, rolling her eyes again.

Artificial intelligence could do most everything these days, to the point that a lot of factories, shipyards, mines, farms, and other so-called low and medium-skilled industries were being replaced with massive automation, and whole swathes of the population back home were finding themselves out of work. But no matter how advanced computers had become, everyone agreed that the moral responsibility of killing a human being rightfully belonged to another human being. By both federal and international law, no computerized decision-making system was allowed to control any process that might involve deliberate lethal force. Griffith tanks could drive themselves, load themselves, and intercept incoming missiles or drones without any human input. They’d even identify potential threats and aim the appropriate weapons automatically, but someone like Specialist Lorelei Chase had to press the trigger before it could do anything that might take a human life.

“You have our sector locked in?” Lily asked her.

“You’re really gonna insult me with a question like that, boss?” Lorelei sounded wounded.

“Sorry,” Lily chuckled. “It’s my job. Now please reply in the affirmative so I can feel better about having asked.”

“Fine,” the gunner grumbled. “Affirmative, sector locked and sensors are actively scanning. Antimissile and drone countermeasures are on automatic. Sabot in the tube, and an even mix of sabot and HE in the pipeline. Happy?”

“Very.” Lily turned to the third woman in the turret. “How about you, Cortez?”

“All good over here, Sergeant,” Private Gina Cortez answered in a thick Nicaraguan accent. “Comms up, drone deployed, all sensors and systems optimal.”

Modern tanks may drive themselves and load themselves, but the Army had decided that reducing tank crews to fewer than three people presented too great a risk in combat. Cortez’s primary job was to maintain and troubleshoot the advanced computational and information systems that ran the tank, but having the Vehicle Systems Tech on board also gave the crew an extra pair of hands for crew-level maintenance and repairs, and meant there was someone who could take over the weapons systems if either the commander or gunner were incapacitated or killed.

“Alright, here we go,” Lily said as the tank began climbing up the first moraine.


“Missile warning,” the soft feminine voice of Athena’s computer stated tonelessly, accompanied by the distinctive rapid-fire thumping of the tank’s right-side counter-missile gun automatically engaging. A fraction of a second later came the sound of an explosion as the incoming threat was destroyed in flight over a hundred meters short of its target. There were a few loud dings as shrapnel from the missile struck the exterior armor.

“Contact, two o’clock!” the gunner called out. “Tank, stationary, three-one-hundred meters!”

“Contact, front right!” Lily relayed over the platoon net. “Tank, stationary! Engaging!”

“I’ve got lock,” Lorelei told her calmly, indicating Athena’s gunnery computer had optimized its calculations and was ready to fire.

Lily glanced at the screen to the right of her command panel, which currently displayed exactly what her gunner was seeing at her own station: the unmistakable outline of a Russian T-30 tank’s gun turret peeping over some rocks, a stand of trees to its rear. It almost blended into its surroundings, but Athena’s sensors had picked up on the sharp angles of its armor and identified it as an artificial shape that it highlighted for the convenience of its human masters.

“Send it,” Lily said, almost nonchalantly.

“On the way!” Lorelei replied as she squeezed the trigger on her control stick.

The main gun boomed, the sound incredibly loud even through the noise-cancelling headsets in their helmets. The cannon’s massive breech rocked back in the turret compartment between the command station and the systems tech’s position, inches from the guard on which Lily’s left knee rested. The autoloader cycled, pushing the next round into the chamber before the gun reset itself. From trigger squeeze to the gun being ready to fire again took just under two seconds. Her nostrils filled with the acrid smell of burned propellant.

“Hit!” Lily said as she saw the enemy tank explode on her monitor. “Good shooting.”

She keyed the mic to the platoon net. “One Russky down. Watch out for indirect.”

They’d killed the enemy within seconds of identifying it, from well outside its own maximum effective range, but Russian tanks didn’t fight alone. There were almost certainly at least two more tanks watching the platoon advance through the rough terrain. Lily wasn’t worried about their direct fire weapons; a Griff would shrug off a main gun round from anything more than two kilometers and its active defenses could easily handle guided missiles at anything less than hypersonic speeds. But if the tanks had artillery support, Olympian Platoon could be in for a rough afternoon—they were sitting ducks against a rocket barrage until they made it to the other side of this goddamn moraine system, and the counter-guns only had so much ammo.

“The drone has identified two more tanks,” Cortez piped up. “Both out of range.”

Lily tapped a button on the screen and it switched from showing the gunner’s view to displaying the feed from Athena’s drone, which hovered a couple dozen meters above the tank. Yellow boxes highlighted the distinctive shapes of the remainder of the Russian platoon, almost five kilometers away. She watched as they backed out of their positions and began withdrawing.

She keyed the platoon net.

“Ares, this is Athena. Looks like the other two Russkies are bugging out to the northeast. Recommend giving Titan Platoon a heads-up.”

“Roger, Athena,” Lieutenant Kerry acknowledged. “My drone just IDed them, too. I’ll pass it on.”

“Arrow Six, this is Ares,” she heard him call the company commander a few seconds later. “Sitrep: Olympian Platoon engaged and destroyed one tank—location marked on your screen. Two more tanks identified out of range, currently withdrawing into Titan’s sector at speed. Olympians continuing our advance north, keeping an eye out for indirect. Over.”

“Roger, Ares,” Captain Tupuola replied. “Titan platoon, did you hear that?”

“Apocalypse acknowledges,” Titan Platoon’s lieutenant answered.

“Roger. Carry on, gents,” the company commander said. “Let’s try to make it to the objective by 1900. Six, out.”

“Ares, this is Arrow Five,” the XO jumped in after the commander was done. “No need to worry about indirect. Battalion confirms no artillery positions within twenty klicks. Carry on with as much speed as possible.”

“Ares acknowledges,” Lieutenant Kerry said.

“Olympians, this is Athena. XO says no arty in range,” Lily relayed on the platoon net. “The only thing slowing us down is the terrain.”

“Apollo acknowledges. Continuing to move.”

“Artemis, roger.”

But a minute later, as Athena began to climb the next moraine, there was a grinding noise and the tank’s forward progress stalled. The computer backed the tank down the slope, and a low alarm tone sounded.

“Error. Right track damaged,” the computer stated over the intercom.

“Fucking hell,” Lily muttered, then keyed the radio. “Olympians, this is Athena. Looks like I spoke too soon. I’ve got a damaged track and can’t make it up the hill. Stand by; I’m gonna send my tech out to check it.”

“Roger, Athena,” Lieutenant Kerry replied. “Olympians, halt in place and wait for Athena.”

Lily glanced over at Cortez, who was already moving. The tech hit the switch to pop her turret hatch, then pulled herself up and out of the tank. While waiting, Lily looked back over at the drone feed on her secondary screen. The two enemy tanks had disappeared; they were presumably well into Titan Platoon’s sector by now.

Cortez stuck her head down through her hatch.

“Bad news, Sergeant. The track is fucked. Looks like a bit of shrapnel from that missile cracked a section, and it broke clean through when we tried to go up the slope.”

“Goddammit,” Lily shook her head. “Alright, thanks.” She keyed her radio. “Ares, this is Athena. We’ve got a broken track. We’ve got a spare section on board, but we’ll have to replace it and reconnect. It’s gonna be a hot minute.”

“Copy, Athena,” Lieutenant Kerry replied. “We’ll stand by. Make it as quick as you can. Olympian Platoon, pull security; I’ll let Arrow Six know we’re going to be delayed.”

She heard him start to call the sitrep up to the company commander as she stripped off her helmet, then she opened her own hatch and climbed onto the turret to take a look for herself. At least the weather was nice. Repairing track was an utter bitch in the rain and mud.

She and Cortez climbed down the turret onto the front slope, then hopped down to the ground. The right track was flat on the ground, the broken section a few feet in front of the tank, the other end dangling skirt armor, exposing the idler wheel. Cortez hadn’t exaggerated about the damage to the track; the steel around the cooling tube had twisted and sheared straight through. Lily saw clearly where a chunk had been gouged out of it by the shrapnel. That just was an unlucky hit; it must have struck the track at just the right angle and velocity to cause a critical structural flaw.

At least both sides of the break were easily accessible, so they wouldn’t have to move the tank itself. It would take some time and effort to repair, but it was a pretty straightforward process.

“Okay, Cortez,” Lily said, her hands on her hips as she contemplated the damaged track. “Go ahead and grab the impact wrench out of the sponson box, and get that spare track section off the railing.”

Cortez scrambled back up the turret, and a minute later pushed a heavy section of tank track off the side of the turret, where it fell to the ground with a thump. She then clambered down the front slope with an impact wrench in hand.

“Here you go, Sergeant,” she said, handing the power tool to Lily. “I’ll go grab the section and bring it over.”

“Get the end connector puller and the sledge out while you’re at it,” Lily instructed. “And we’re going to need the track jacks, too.”

While Cortez gathered the tools they’d need to fix the track, Lily plugged the impact wrench’s cord into an outlet on the tank’s hull and began loosening bolts. With only three crew members, there was no standing on ceremony: someone had to stay on the gun and maintain security, and repairing a broken track was at least a two-person job. Everybody worked on a tank crew; rank was irrelevant when shit needed to be done.

After the bolts were removed, she and Cortez pulled off the connectors that held the broken section to the rest of the track and started lining up the replacement. But before they could hook it on, Lily heard her gunner shout. She looked up to see Lorelei’s helmeted head sticking out of the turret hatch.

“Hey, boss! Avenger Platoon’s dealing with some shit and Arrow Six ordered Ares to head that way and assist! We’ve been instructed to expedite repairs and make our way to the objective on our own, linking up with the company there no later than 2100!”

“Alright,” Lily called back. “Thanks for the update!”

She sighed and contemplated this development.

A lone tank was a sitting duck if they encountered the enemy; the main gun could only engage one target at a time, so multiple vehicles could easily overwhelm them. That’s why they had wingman tanks. She was annoyed that the lieutenant hadn’t left Apollo to watch her back.

But there was nothing to do about it now, and they still had to repair the track either way. She shrugged and unzipped her fire-resistant coveralls and pulled the top down, tying the sleeves around her waist. Her undershirt was already soaked through with sweat, and it wasn’t even midafternoon yet.

“Feel free to dress down, Cortez. We’ve got plenty of heavy lifting to do before we’re done here. Might as well be comfortable.”

Lily wiped the sweat off her face and got back to work.


“Boss!”

Lily looked up to see Lorelei’s helmeted head once again protruding from the hatch.

“XO says Battalion spotted a bird coming in. Looks like a solo Ka-52. Three to four minutes.”

“Fuck,” Lily muttered, thinking quickly.

“Cortez, throw all this shit under the hull,” she instructed, indicating the tools and supplies they were using to repair the track. “We’re going to pretend to be dead—Russkies won’t waste rounds on a smoking hull, but if they see signs of repair, they might be tempted to go for a gun run, just in case.”

Attack helicopters used to be all but a death sentence for a lone tank—their missiles could take out an armored vehicle from well outside a main gun’s effective firing range, and their speed made them difficult to hit even if they came close enough. These days it was a more even match: the Griffith’s defensive guns negated the long-range threat as long as they had ammo and functioning sensors, but the Alligator was also equipped with a 30mm autocannon that could rip through a tank’s top armor like tissue paper. It needed to get close to use the cannon—well within range of Athena’s 130mm main gun. But if it came to a head-to-head race, Lorelei would only have time for one or two shots before the Russian strafed them, so it was a dangerous gamble. It was a safer bet to convince them that Athena wasn’t worth their time and fuel.

She quickly zipped her coveralls, then scrambled back up the hull and dropped into her station. As soon as she had her helmet on, she keyed the mic on the company net.

“Arrow Five, this Athena, do you read?”

“Athena, this is Arrow Five, read you Lima-Charlie,” the XO replied.

“Arrow Five, is anyone intercepting that Alligator?”

“Negative, Athena. You’re fifteen klicks outside of the battalion air defense envelope and close air support is otherwise engaged. Keep your head down.”

“Roger, Arrow Five.” She sighed. “We’ll let you know if we manage not to die. Athena out.”

Cortez dropped back into her station through her hatch on the other side of the turret.

“Everything’s out of sight, Sergeant,” she said. “Should I pop smoke?”

“Black smoke, two cans, from the launcher,” Lily responded, “and get the drone out of the air. Then button your hatch and let’s play possum.”

“Drone’s down,” Cortez reported a half minute later. “Popping smoke now.”

The tech pressed a series of buttons at her console, and in a moment Lily saw thick black smoke beginning to pour out of the grenade launchers on either side of the turret. Satisfied they’d done what they could to play dead, Lily closed her own turret hatch and settled into her seat. They’d find out one way or the other in a few minutes.

She tapped a button on her commander’s view screen and it switched to displaying the feed from the Commander’s Independent Viewer, a 360-degree thermal camera on top of the tank. They wouldn’t be able to move the gun to track its flight, but with the independent viewer she could lock onto its signature and, should it prove necessary, with a press of another button the turret would swing to aim at the designated target within a fraction of a second.

“Lorelei, you’ve got prox in the tube, right?”

“Way ahead of you, boss,” the gunner answered. “One in the tube, two more in the chute.”

High explosives rigged with proximity sensors were standard against aerial threats. Even if the pilot managed to avoid a direct hit, the sensor would detonate the round if it got within twenty meters of the target, sending a cloud of shrapnel into the fuselage, hopefully doing enough damage to the engines and hydraulics to take it out of the air.

“What do you think they’re doing out here, Sergeant?” Cortez asked.

“What’s that?” Lily replied, pulled from her focus on the screen.

“I mean, don’t Russian helicopters usually fly in pairs?” the tech continued. “And an Alligator is an attack helicopter, right? So what’s it doing out here with no ground forces to support?”

“I don’t know.” Lily shrugged. “Probably just reconnaissance, especially on its own. With combat losses and maintenance issues it’s not uncommon to see them solo for recon missions.”

“If it’s doing recon, it’s probably not looking to engage, right?” Cortez sounded nervous.

Lorelei snorted. “We can hope. But Russian pilots sometimes get bored. They might decide to shoot up a dead Griff anyway, just for target practice.”

“Right,” Lily agreed, “which is why we’re gonna keep a close eye on them until they’re long gone. They come in gun range, we pop ’em.”

She realized that this was Private Cortez’s first real encounter with an enemy who might well try to kill her—the tech had only joined their crew the previous week, the same day the lieutenant had shown up at the platoon.

“Don’t worry, Cortez,” she said, trying to sound comforting. “Specialist Chase here is three-and-oh against helicopters. We’ll be fine.”

“Damn straight,” Lorelei said firmly. “If they decide to fuck around, they’re gonna find out.”

The enemy helicopter had come into view, a bright dot on her monitor, several kilometers northeast of their position and moving west-southwest. Still too far away to lock in as a priority target, but getting closer every second.

“Come on, you Russian bastard,” Lily whispered to herself, “just keep on flying. Nothing to see here but burning wreckage . . .  Damn it.”

The Russians had changed course south. They weren’t coming directly toward Athena’s position, but it appeared they’d decided to get a closer look.

Lily watched the dot as it grew larger on her thermals. Soon it was recognizably a helicopter; within a minute she could make out the elongated nose and the distinct double-rotor of a Ka-52. She tapped her screen and a second later the computer highlighted it with a white box. A number popped up indicating its estimated distance from Athena’s location: 5,420 and falling. The tank could theoretically engage at 3,500 meters, but it would give the pilot a few seconds to evade and give away the element of surprise. She decided to wait until 2,700—the Russian would need to close within two kilometers before its autocannon could dent Athena’s armor, and it flew at around a hundred meters a second during a gun run. That would give Lorelei plenty of time for two solid shots before the enemy could return fire. If both missed, a rain of 30mm rounds would tear the three of them to shreds. Simple as that.

Right now, however, all of that was hypothetical. The chopper was taking a curving path around them, staying outside of four klicks. It was tense—nothing Lily could do but wait. A minute later, they were almost due west, still a little over four klicks and continuing to curve around to the south.

But then their path straightened out; the target on her thermals started to get smaller and smaller as they continued south. Thirty seconds later, the Ka-52 had disappeared from view, hidden by a large stand of trees to the southwest. Lily breathed a sigh of relief and let out a little chuckle.

“Guess they decided we were already dead enough,” she said.

“And here I was hoping to get to paint an alligator silhouette on Athena’s turret,” Lorelei laughed. “Oh well. Maybe next time.”

“Let’s not count our chickens yet,” Lily said. “They can always come back for another look. We’ll stay buttoned up for a few minutes, just in case.”

She keyed the radio. “Arrow Five, this is Athena.”

“Go ahead, Athena. Glad to hear you’re still kicking.”

“Me too, Five. We lost sight of the ’gator to the southwest. Any chance Battalion’s keeping an eye on it?”

“I’ll check, Athena. If so I’ll push it to your station. Stand by.”

“Roger, Five. Standing by.”

Thirty seconds later, a red diamond icon appeared on the map on her touchscreen, moving steadily southwest.

“Athena, this is Arrow Five. I’ve pushed Battalion ADA’s tracking data to your system. Do you have it?”

“Affirmative, Five. Thanks much. We’ll keep an eye on it and hope it doesn’t come back before we can get mobile.”

“Roger, Athena. Best of luck. Arrow Five out.”


With Lorelei watching to make sure the Russian helicopter wasn’t in danger of returning, Lily and Cortez returned to repairing the track.

“Okay,” Lily said after they got the new track section attached and bolted on. “We’re gonna have to do it sooner or later, so may as well get it over with. We need to release the tension before we can connect the two ends together.”

“Roger, Sergeant. What do you need me to do?”

“Oh, it’s gonna take both of us. You ever break track before?”

“No, they didn’t cover that in the accelerated basic course,” Cortez shook her head. “Told us we’d have to learn on the job.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. They’re so desperate to get bodies to the front they skip all the fun stuff. Okay, you know what the tensioning arm is, right?”

Cortez nodded. “It’s the one connected to the idler wheel, right?”

“Correct. It pushes the wheel into the front of the track, to keep it nice and taut so we don’t throw track every time we hit a bump or turn too sharply. Which means that we have to loosen it, or we’ll never be able to get the two ends close enough to fit the connectors on. And loosening it is not fun.”

“How’s that, Sergeant?”

“Tension grease is thick stuff. It doesn’t pour out on its own. We’re gonna have to open the valve, then whack the hell out of the idler wheel with the sledge for a while until we’ve forced enough grease out to get the track reconnected.”

“No. Seriously, Sergeant?” Cortez’s eyebrows went up. “All this tech and no one’s come up with a better answer to the problem than ‘smash it with a hammer’?”

Lily snorted. “Yeah, you’d think one of those fancy engineers would have thought it through, but I guess they never actually had to break track. Just pretend you’re hammering their stupid college-educated faces every time you take a swing—it doesn’t make it any less tiring, but it’s definitely cathartic.”

“Okay, Sergeant,” Cortez shrugged. “I’ll take the first turn.”

“Atta girl.”

Together, it took them almost two hours, trading off every few minutes. By the time Lily judged the tensioning arm to have relaxed enough to connect the track, her shoulders, arms, and upper back were screaming.

“Alright,” she sighed wearily. “The hard part’s over. Now just to pull ’em together, connect, and re-tension. Thank whatever gods may be for hydraulic track jacks.”

Twenty minutes later, just as they were closing up the front skirt panel to protect their newly repaired track, Lorelei’s voice called down once more.

“Boss, we got trouble!”

“What now?” Lily yelled back.

“Drone’s spotted movement to our southeast. You’d better come take a look yourself.”

“Cortez,” Lily said, turning to the tech, “we’re done with the track. Get everything put away as quickly as you can, then get back to your station.”

She then scrambled up the hull and dropped into her command station as Lorelei moved back to the gunner’s seat.

“What’s up?”

“Looks like Russkies sneaking around the flank, boss.”

“Did you report it to Arrow?”

“I tried. No response. No answer on the platoon net, either.”

“Fuck,” Lily swore as she turned her attention to the drone feed.

There was nothing happening at the moment, but the system automatically stored ten minutes of video at any given time. She backed up to the earliest available and played it at quadruple speed until she saw the movement Lorelei had mentioned.

“Double fuck,” she swore again. The monitor showed at least three armored personnel carriers and two tanks moving somewhere to the southeast; they’d disappeared behind an intervisibility line several kilometers away a couple minutes ago and hadn’t reappeared. The remains of the tank platoon they’d encountered earlier must have linked up with a mechanized infantry platoon and slipped down the seam between Titan Platoon’s sector and Battle-axe Company to their east.

She quickly switched to the map on her other screen and input the enemy’s last known location and direction of travel from the drone’s camera, then tapped a sequence of buttons. A few—very long—seconds later, the computer spat out what it believed to be their three most likely routes.

“Triple fuck.”

The computer assessed that the enemy unit was likely trying to hook around behind Arrow Company and hit them from the rear, targeting the lightly defended headquarters and support assets that the Russians knew would be somewhere behind the front line of maneuver platoons. And the terrain and that minefield to the west meant that all their potential routes involved crossing the same series of moraines Olympian Platoon had crossed earlier that day, straight through Athena’s current position.

The computer was usually correct in such assessments.

At least the Ka-52 had apparently gotten far enough away that it no longer showed up on her feed. Small favors.

She keyed her mic.

“Arrow, any Arrow, this is Athena. Do you copy?”

May as well try. But there was no response. It was possible company headquarters was just in a dead zone. But more likely they were already out of range of Athena’s radio.

She switched to platoon.

“Olympian, any Olympian, this is Athena. Do you read?”

She sighed. She knew the tank’s comms definitely wouldn’t have the power to reach Titan Platoon from here, let alone Battalion. They were on their own.

“Alright, here’s the situation,” she said over the intercom as Cortez dropped through her hatch and put on her helmet. “We’ve got a bunch of Russians headed our way from behind. Athena’s computer thinks they’re trying to hit the company trains in the ass. The way I see it, we’ve got two potential courses of action. We’re heavily outgunned, so the smart play is to keep our head down, make our way out of their path, and try to get somewhere that Arrow Five can hear us so we can hopefully warn him in time and give the company time to turn around.”

“And the other option, Sergeant?” Cortez asked.

“We,” Lily said somberly, “can turn around and fuck up their day.”

“You think we could take them on and win?”

“No, I don’t.” Lily shook her head. “Not really. Five on one is a tall order. But if we could take out two or three of them before they got us, that would be enough to keep them from posing much threat to the XO and the support vehicles. That said, there’s a better than even chance it’s a suicide mission. I won’t order anyone to knowingly sacrifice their life when there’s another reasonable option.”

“So what do we do?” Cortez asked.

“If we run,” Lily answered, “there’s no guarantee we’d get in comms range in time to warn anyone. The only way to make sure those Russian bastards can’t kill the XO and the support folks is to stop them ourselves. But it has to be a unanimous decision. We all volunteer, knowing exactly what it means, or we don’t do it.”

“You already know my vote,” Lorelei chuckled. “Going out in a blaze of glory is my exact aesthetic.”

“Okay.” Lily nodded. “Cortez?”

The tech swallowed heavily, but pressed her lips together firmly and did her best to look determined.

“I’ve got friends with the XO, Sergeant,” Cortez said, sounding every bit a nervous teenager, despite her brave front. “I couldn’t look myself in the mirror if they got hurt, when we could have stopped it.”

Lily nodded again. “Alright. Let’s show everyone what Athena here can really do when we let her loose.”


“I see them, Sergeant. Camera three IDed a probable APC moving into dead space about six klicks south.”

“Thanks, Cortez.”

The drone was out of the sky—Lily didn’t want it giving away their position by hovering overhead, and sending it toward the enemy to reconnoiter would just get it shot down before they learned anything useful. But Cortez had gone out and set up a half dozen portable observation cameras on the ridge of the moraine to their south, which were tied directly to Athena’s computer and would act as extensions of her native sensors. They’d turned the tank around and set up on the north slope of the moraine. It wasn’t exactly a proper three-tiered fighting position, but it was what they had available.

“Sabot in the tube, two sabots in the chute, followed by HE, boss,” Lorelei reported. Depleted uranium sabot rounds were made for killing heavily armored tanks, but they’d want to switch to high explosive for the more lightly armored personnel carriers.

“Thanks. Now we wait,” Lily said. “How about some music, Cortez?”

The tech smiled and nodded, then pressed a couple buttons on her station, filling the intercom with the opening riff of an oldie power metal tune from the 2020s.

Lily snorted in amusement.

“That’ll do.”

Cortez had selected the track listed in the computer as “Olympian Platoon Theme Song.” Their previous platoon leader had been a history major who’d specialized in ancient Greece at West Point. Along with decreeing the platoon’s tanks would be named after Olympic gods and goddesses, he’d selected Sabaton’s “Sparta” as their official song. The story of the outnumbered Spartan warriors at the Battle of Thermopylae seemed especially appropriate given the circumstances.

Fortunately, unlike Xerxes’s Persians, the oncoming Russians wouldn’t be able to sneak around their position and hit them in the rear. It would be a straight-up fight. And with any luck, Athena would have the element of surprise—the Russians would assume all of the American tanks had continued north. Even if they’d gotten a recon report from that helicopter, they’d just expect a dead hull.

Just as the last notes of the song faded a few minutes later, Cortez piped up.

“Tank in the open, Sergeant. Camera two.”

Lily tapped her screen to switch to camera two’s feed; she saw a T-30 crest the top of a low rolling hill, then begin to make its way down the slope. The computer highlighted it as a potential target and displayed its estimated range as over four and a half kilometers.

“Welcome to the party, comrade,” she muttered. “Now where’re your friends?”

“Another contact, Sergeant.” Cortez’s voice shook slightly. She cleared her throat. “I’ve got another tank and an APC on camera four.”

Lily switched over to that feed. The second tank moved steadily across the terrain, a personnel carrier lagging a hundred meters or so behind. It looked like the two tanks were leading the movement on opposite ends of the line, with the mechanized infantry following in the center. Presumably the other two APCs would be popping into view shortly, too.

“Okay, Lorelei, the tanks are the priority. Once they’re in range, if you can take them both out in a single berm drill I’ll buy you a beer.”

“That’ll be refreshing!” The gunner chuckled. “I hear hell’s hot, and there’s no way I’m going to the other place.”

Lily didn’t respond, her eyes locked on the camera feeds. The other two APCs appeared in due course, and the map on her command screen showed all five enemy vehicles moving across the open farmland, slowly getting closer. Until they hit the chain of moraines in which Athena was sitting, they would have no real cover to speak of, just minor variations of elevation forming pockets of dead space in which they could hide. Athena was badly outnumbered, but this was as perfect a defensive scenario as Lily could imagine—it was a carnival shooting gallery come to life.

“Thirty-five-hundred meters, boss. You want to call it, or should we let them get closer?”

“No need to keep our guests waiting.” Lily shrugged. “Left tank first, then right tank.”

“Roger,” Lorelei replied. “Left target ready, awaiting your movement command.”

Lily took a deep breath, held it for a second, then let it out.

“Alright, let’s do this,” she said, and then tapped a button on her screen commanding the tank to move up the berm into firing position. “Fire as soon as you’ve got gun lock,” she told the gunner as the tank began the short movement up the slope.

“On the way!” Lorelei announced a second later, followed by the deafening boom of the main gun firing. The breech rocked back and the autoloader cycled as the gun reset, ready to fire again. For the second time that day, the turret filled with the smell of burned propellant.

“Hit!” Lily called as she saw the enemy tank explode, its turret popping off entirely to land on the ground next to the hull, flames shooting up where it used to be. But there was no time to celebrate; the gun had already swung over to the other tank.

“Target locked! On the way!”

The gun boomed once again, and before the sabot round made impact, Lily hurriedly mashed the button on the command station that told the tank to reverse back down the slope of the moraine.

“Missile warning,” the computer announced as the left-side counter-missile gun engaged the threat. Only one of the APCs had gotten a shot off before they’d retreated behind cover, and Athena’s defenses handled it easily.

“Goddammit,” Lily said as she watched the camera feed. “One tank destroyed, but the second shot was ineffective. They’re still moving.”

“Shit,” Lorelei muttered. “I must’ve pulled the trigger before it was really locked. Sorry, boss.”

“That’s alright, just don’t do it again.”

The tank was moving at Lily’s instructions—once they’d backed down, they’d turned right and were heading a hundred meters away from their first position. It was a bad idea to pop up to shoot at the enemy twice from the same spot.

She continued watching the camera feed as they moved to the next firing position. The enemy tank was charging at full speed toward some low ground, where Athena’s gun wouldn’t be able to depress enough to engage it without first fully exposing her hull along the crest of the moraine.

Clever, Lily thought to herself. Once down there, the Russians could take their time and find a route to approach Athena’s position that didn’t expose them to her superior firepower and range until they were close enough to fight back.

Meanwhile, the three APCs had all changed course and were heading northeast as fast as they could go. Lily guessed they were going to try to reach the first moraine and hide behind it, then dismount their infantry to flank her position and swarm her with antitank missiles and rocket-propelled grenades.

“Damn,” she muttered. “Why can’t we ever get stupid enemies?

“Swap out to HE,” she ordered. “We’re not going to get a second shot at that tank this time. Focus on the APCs.”

“Roger, changing battle carry,” Lorelei answered, hitting the gun control that told the autoloader to remove the sabot round in the main gun and replace it with high explosive.

“Alright, let me know when you’re ready. We’ll only have time for one shot this time, now that they know we’re here.”

“HE in the tube, ready for movement,” the gunner replied a few seconds later.

“Here we go,” Lily said, and she once again commanded the tank to climb the slope into a firing position.

“Target locked! On the way!” Lorelei called out a fraction of a second after the gun tube cleared the crest of the slope, and Lily hit the reverse button before the breech had even reset.

“Hit!” she announced as she saw the armored vehicle flipped onto its side from the force of the high-explosive impact.

They’d only been exposed for a second or two, just long enough to fire, and the enemy hadn’t managed to launch any missiles this time. She took a second to reassess the situation.

The surviving Russian tank had reached its low ground; it was still visible to the cameras, but Athena couldn’t engage it without completely exposing herself to enemy fire for several seconds beforehand. And as it worked its way closer, it would move into dead space and disappear from the cameras’ field of view, a dangerous proposition. But the bigger risk right now was the group of APCs—if they got their dismounts in position to flank Athena down the length of the moraine, they’d be able to send five or six missiles right at her with nowhere to hide. That was a death sentence.

“Okay,” Lily said, making up her mind, “we’re gonna go after the infantry. Cortez, get that drone in the air and have it keep an eye on that tank from a safe distance. We have to move out and deal with those troops before they can get into position.”

“Roger, Sergeant,” the tech replied.

Lily quickly plugged a route into the computer and told the tank to execute at max speed. They backed down the slope farther to the valley between moraines, then raced down the length of the moraine as fast as the tank could manage without throwing track. By the time they’d reached the end of the ridge a few minutes later, the two remaining APCs had dropped out of sight from the cameras. Athena slowed as they approached the eastern tail of the moraine and began creeping forward, the turret slowly pivoting to clear the corner.

“Contact! Dismounts at five hundred meters!” Lorelei announced.

“Engage with coax,” Lily ordered as she saw the troops in question setting up a missile launcher.

“Roger, engaging!” the gunner replied. A moment later came the sharp sound of rapid fire from Athena’s coaxial machine gun.

Lily didn’t bother watching the rounds impact; the computer had identified two other dismount positions, both of which were also setting up antitank missile positions.

“Cortez, troops on the ridgeline southeast at four-fifty meters!”

“Identified!” the tech replied, no longer sounding nervous.

“Fire and adjust!”

“On the way!” Cortez engaged her own machine gun mounted on the left side of the turret at the troop position. Like the main gun, Athena had already aimed it for her and locked in the target, but a human had to pull the trigger.

Meanwhile, Lily wordlessly engaged the third group of dismounts with her own machine gun. For several seconds, Athena sprayed death in three directions simultaneously, and three squads of Russian infantry were annihilated by her impossibly accurate computer-controlled fire. When the dust cleared, there was no movement. If any of the enemy had survived, they were keeping their heads down.

“Alright, good shooting,” Lily said. “Now let’s go kill their taxis.”

A quick glance at the drone feed showed the T-30 had made it to the southern slope of the first moraine, but was still working its way around to try to hit Athena from the western flank. That gave them time to mop up the two APCs, then head back west to deal with the tank.

We might actually win this after all, she thought. She quickly suppressed that line of thinking—she didn’t want to jinx anything by thinking about victory too early. One thing at a time.

The tank drove around the eastern end of the moraine and Lily saw the remaining personnel carriers in the open.

“Target locked,” Lorelei said calmly.

“Fire.”

“On the way.”

The main gun boomed for the fifth time that day and one of the armored vehicles erupted into flames.

Lily didn’t even bother reversing behind cover as the autoloader cycled. The remaining APC launched a missile their way, which Athena’s defensive guns shot out of the sky almost instantly. She then heard the enemy’s 25mm rounds impacting with a steady thunk-thunk-thunk. Lily wasn’t worried—they had no hope of getting through Athena’s front armor, even at that close range.

“Target locked,” Lorelei said, singsong.

“Fire,” Lily ordered gleefully.

“On the way.”

A second later, the only remaining enemy was the lone T-30 at the other end of the moraine.

“Okay, let’s finish this,” Lily said with a grim smile.

“New threat, Sergeant!” Cortez said suddenly, looking at her station console.

Lily glanced at her screen and her smile disappeared.

“Fuck.”

An icon of a Ka-52 had suddenly appeared on her screen, courtesy of the Battalion air defense feed her computer was still receiving. Probably the same one from earlier, called to assist the Russian ground forces she’d been fighting.

“Alligator, closing quick,” she said. “Looking like it’s coming in for a gun run. Swap to prox and get ready.”

“Roger,” Lorelei said as she commanded the autoloader to change ammunition, the carefree singsong gone from her tone.

“That tank is coming our way, too, Sergeant!” Cortez said.

Lily switched to the drone feed and saw she was right—the remaining T-30 was charging down the other side of the moraine; it would be appearing directly behind them in a few minutes. They had two threats rapidly closing on their position, and could only effectively engage one at a time. Proximity rounds were useless against heavy armor, and sabot was too easy for a helicopter to evade.

“Alright,” she said after a moment’s consideration, “we’ll just have to deal with the ’gator and hope that tank commander is too cautious to get around the corner before we can swap back. Lorelei, take the shot as soon as it hits two-seven-hundred.”

“Roger,” the gunner said.

“And I want you both to know,” Lily added somberly, “if this is it, it’s been an honor.”

“You, too, boss,” Lorelei said quietly.

Lily caught Cortez’s eyes; the tech looked terrified, but she put on a brave smile. Then she closed her eyes and Lily saw her lips moving in what looked like a silent prayer.

There was nothing else to say.

“Three-five-hundred meters,” Lorelei announced a few agonizingly long seconds later. “Three-four-hundred. Three-three—whoa!”

“What the fuck?!” Lily exclaimed, watching the gunner’s view on her own screen. The enemy helicopter had just exploded in midair.

“American tank, this is Renegade Five-One,” a voice came over her radio, broadcasting on the general NATO net. “Hope you don’t mind the assist. No doubt you’d have taken him out yourself, but I was bored and hadn’t gotten to shoot anything today.”

An F-40 fighter jet with US Air Force markings screamed through the air where the Russian helicopter had been a moment previously.

“This is Renegade Five-Two,” another voice called. “Engaging one Russian tank in the open.”

A second fighter flew low directly over Athena’s position. From inside the tank Lily couldn’t hear its guns firing, but she saw the dust clouds from its rounds impacting on her screen, then an explosion followed by billowing black smoke from the other end of the moraine. She switched over to her drone feed and saw the T-30 torn to shreds by the jet’s 30mm cannon rounds.

“American tank, this is Renegade Five-One,” the first pilot called again. “You good down there? You look awfully lonely.”

Lily swallowed and took a deep breath before responding. Mere seconds ago, she’d been convinced she was about to die. Her hand was still shaking with adrenaline.

“Renegade Five-One, this is Athena,” she called. “We’re very grateful for the assistance. When this is all over, look up Sergeant First Class Lily Hanover, and drinks will be on me!”

“From the looks of it, Athena, you did plenty of work yourself before we got here. Do you need us to let anyone know where you are?”

“This is Athena. We got separated from Arrow Company, 1-44 Armor. I’d be obliged if you could pass on that we’ll be late for our rendezvous this evening.”

“Will do, Athena. Stay safe, and good hunting. Renegade out.”

Lily closed her eyes and took another deep breath.

“Holy shit, that was intense!” Lorelei said with a relieved laugh.

Lily nodded. “That it was.” She glanced over at her tech. “You alright, Cortez?”

“I—” the tech started to answer, her voice catching in her throat. She swallowed a couple times before continuing. “I’m okay, Sergeant. I’ll be okay.”

Lily popped her hatch and stood up on her seat, just breathing in the fresh air for a long moment. It smelled of diesel smoke and burning metal, but there was a breeze, and that was enough.

“You good, boss?” Lorelei asked.

“Yeah,” Lily chuckled. “Yeah, I’m good. You know what?”

“What’s that?”

“Some days, I fucking love this job.”


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