Hearts of Titanium

[WP] They tell you the war machines aren't sentient, being kind to them does nothing. But at the same time, it seems funny to you that their "priority" targets often seem to be the ones currently shooting at you.

*****

"Captain Grosvenor, Vic...", the Colonel started.

"Sir!", Vic shouted before he could get her full name out. She hated the full name, especially in a military setting, but dad had said it was some sort of family tradition for first daughters or something. The thoughts chased around her head as she stood rigidly at attention while the Colonel went through the list.

"Excellent, let's get down to business." Lt. Colonel Morris put aside the list of names and started the briefing.

"We're going to continue our push towards Epone on the south bank of the Seine," announced Morris, pronouncing Epone like 'e-pony', causing Vic to grind her teeth. When she'd chatted to the other officers, wondering if they hated his bad French pronunciation, they'd acted like there was something off with her. But, surely their tutors had also drilled them in French.

"4th company, you're taking the left flank. Hug the river, and watch for stealth mines. Intel says the frogs haven't laid any, but..." he left the sentence hanging and got a few chuckles in response. Intel had consistently underestimated the enemy.

"5th, you're going right. We have Nezel so we shouldn't have too much danger there. 8th and 2nd, you're the hammers. One swings, and the other holds. Keep it moving. Don't let yourselves get bogged down. 1st, you're holding back in reserves." Each Captain nodded as they got their orders.

Reserves... AGAIN! Vic's first company had been the reserves in every operation so far. Fair enough, she was the newest Captain, but she thought she'd proven herself. Zero casualties. None. Naturally, as reserves, they'd mostly dealt with mop-up operations, but even when they'd been ambushed last week, it hadn't even been a close fight.

The captains made their way back to their companies and briefed them. As reserves, she didn't have much to say. Her troops knew their jobs. She might have been a new captain, but she'd been assigned a lot of grizzled veterans. Their reaction to the briefing was a polite grunt, then they got to prepare.

As usual, she went to visit the war machines before the maneuver started. At first, she didn't want to admit she'd never been trained on war machines, and didn't want to embarrass herself, so she'd just treated them like one of her stallions. Master Hornthwite had been drilling her on caring for the stallions since she'd been 6 years old. Hooves, teeth, eyes, mane, but most importantly, confidence and trust.

The war machines didn't nuzzle her pockets looking for sugar, but they obediently lifted their feet to be inspected and irised open their sensor suites to be checked. Warmachine Aleph9 needed a new shoulder joint actuator after the last encounter, so she paid extra attention to it. She could see its sensor suite following her, but of course, it didn't communicate.

The push was set to start at 0937, a specific time chose seemingly at random by an Oracle, and it was 0930, so Vic got into her MoCom and buckled in. Unlike the other companies, there wasn't going to be any immediate charge when the T-time hit, but they were going to reposition slightly to be able to cover any of the other 4 companies.

Vic set half-real on her goggles and tuned into the overview feed. 4th hadn't hit any stealth mines, but 5th had stumbled onto a big pocket of WASPs and were currently in heavy mode while they worked to neutralize it. That had stalled the hammers, so they'd slowed, waiting on some good terrain.

She absently flicked through the available intel on Épône (pronouncing it correctly in her head). Population, climate, etymology... oh, it was of Latin origin from Spedona -- might it share a root with "spelunca" a cave? She didn't know if this region had caves, but it would make sense. Her Latin tutor would have known. He insisted she knew not just the motto of her house, not just every noble place, but what they all meant, and why they'd been chosen.

A brief squeal was all the warning she had. They were pouring over the hill to the southeast, hundreds, maybe thousands of them. She'd only caught a glimpse because the TWT had triggered the MoCom to lock down the shutters and go into bunker mode while squealing warnings. She stabbed at the button to silence them and went full virtual. 5th had been overrun and were trying to regroup. She started calling out commands to her platoons but they hardly needed them. They were forming tight phalanxes and trying to cut down the enemy while keeping as low a profile as possible.

Two of the war machines detached from their positions and took up formation next to her MoCom, they started mowing down anything coming within a set radius, but the enemy still came. A third Warmachine joined them, then two came over the hill from the direction of 4th, moving at top speed. She was surrounded by a protective bubble while they shredded anything that got close. A yellow icon showed that 3plt was buckling, so she ordered Warmachine Dalt2 to reinforce. It ignored the command. She tried Dalt1 and Bayt3 but they ignored the command. The icon for 3plt winked out, followed by 4plt. Her bubble was intact, but half her regiment was gone. Then, as soon as it had started, it was over. The enemies had popped noise and disappeared back over the hills to the southeast.

"Report in! 1plt!" She shouted.

"14 down, ammo's good, med bots at capacity"

"2plt!"

"9 down, ammo's good, sending med bots to 3 and 4"

"3plt!"

An unfamiliar voice responded, "WO Smithe KIA, SGT Beean reporting, uh... we're down about 40, get us any med bots you can!"

"4plt!"

Silence. She flicked her view to one of the skyes, showing just twisted metal and bodies where 4 had been. She keyed in a pattern search for survivors, trying to keep the bile in her throat down. She needed to get out. Slamming the door release with her hand she shoved the door open, throwing her goggles down.

She looked around her. Bodies and twisted metal were carpeting the clearing, all except a little zone around her. The war machines were still surrounding her facing out. They'd shifted only slightly to keep her in the middle. Why her? Why'd they ignored the order? She could have saved 3 and 4. It couldn't be that she'd treated them nicely, could it? She felt embarrassed and guilty. She'd lost half her regiment and she didn't need that many war machines, her MoCom had decent armor.

Whirring servos alerted her to something, the war machines had shifted because something else was approaching. They returned to their original positions when they confirmed it was the Colonel's room. He jumped out next to her and exclaimed "Oh, thank god!"

"Sir... I regret to inform you that 4th--"

"Yes, yes, yes... that can wait. You survived!"

"But, sir--", she couldn't believe that he wouldn't listen to her report.

"It can wait." He stamped his authority on those words, shutting her up. "There's been an attack on Balmoral. I regret to inform you they killed the King and his family. We need to get you to London immediately, your Majesty."

*****

THE END