The Grey Chronicles Part Two: Under Siege.

Chapter 10: Cry Havoc.

Forest around Baseplate Sierra, surface of Stonehaara One, August of 8096 AL.

Salem smiled, leaning back in his seat to better feel the rumbling of the Scorpio's twin engines. The Machinae main battle tanks had two engines; one that ran on hydrogen cells, and a second backup engine that ran on diesel. The two engines, when used together, allowed the tank to travel three hundred kilometers without refueling. The regular hum of the engines soothed him; before becoming a member of Demon squadron, Salem had served in an armored battalion during the Liberation Wars. Originally, he had been a centurion in the Legion, then as the Machinae captured more and more technology he moved up to a tank commander, then eventually to the captain of a frigate.

"Demonking, how copy?" the radio came on, Salem picked up the receiver and held it to his mouth.

"Solid copy, what do you need Demonqueen?" Salem called cheerfully. His tank rolled over fallen logs, the treads crushing them to charcoal. The convoy was arranged in a neat line, with the tanks and Gorillas taking point to clear the path. Behind them were the two regiments of marines, loaded into APCs and Rabbits. After the marines came the K9 unit and the cavalrymen, who brought up the rear. The Stonehaaryn soldiers were spread throughout the convoy, serving as scouts and lookouts watching the skies for any sign of enemy activity.

"I had a quick question," Korana replied, "What's stopping the Titanus fleet above the planet from nuking us?"

"Gargantuan is headstrong, he doesn't want to just kill us," Salem paused, thinking, "He wants to publicly broadcast my defeat, show everyone that the head of the strongest government in the galaxy submitted to him. Ideally, he probably wants to show me begging for my life, then slaughter me like a pig."

"Begging? You?" Korana laughed, "The only times I've heard you beg, we were both naked."

Salem blushed, the tank driver turned around and raised an eyebrow at his commander. "Thanks for reminding me of those good memories, that'll give me something to think about while we're moving."

"Oh, you want something to think about? Well..." the next few sentences to come from her mouth over the radio were too dirty to repeat in this book; there's already plenty of gore to get it an M rating, it doesn't need any smut.

Salem's cheeks resembled tomatoes, the tank driver barely contained his laughter, while the gunner was more than mildly uncomfortable.

"Welp," Salem chirped, "I know what's on your mind."

"I'd prefer to have it on my face," Korana cooed seductively.

"You just live to embarrass me, don't you? If there's no further questions I'm going to turn off my radio now," Salem spouted as quickly as he could, then dropped the receiver and looked at the floor. The radio was on an open channel; without proper connection to the communication satellite orbiting the planet, their BattleNet was offline. Their forces were restricted to short wave radio; in other words, anyone with their radio on can hear anything anyone says. They could send individual transmissions to the satellite, but the connection wasn't strong enough for a proper telecommunication network.

"Sir?" the tank driver asked squeamishly.

"Yes, sergeant?"

"You're a lucky man."

"You have no idea," Salem chuckled and scratched the back of his neck, "Not all of these scars are from battle."

The tank driver laughed and said nothing else. They traveled in silence for almost half an hour before the tanks ahead of them stopped.