text: [Themes: sci-fi, serious, war]
  
  Gunship Iron Eagle Two roared through sector 205 on the rim of the Mesarius star system. The sleek aerospace vehicle, similar in form to the hi-tech attack copters of the 21st Century, was designed with a swappable engine section, allowing it to be equipped with a spacedrive for stellar travel, or a jet-boost assisted rotor section for duties planetside. Turrets swivelled slowly on either side of the Gunship's hull, mounting missile launchers and an energy cannon, while the small chin-turret at the front, below the cockpit, housed twin-plasmabolt machine guns used in anti-infantry duties while planetside.
  
  Kreiger 'Wildcat' Jones sat at the front of the two-man cockpit, one hand on the pilot's joystick, the other tapping occassionally at the keys on the console in front of him. "I'm telling you, those frontier raiders make no sense at all. I mean, all they have to do is sign up with the Federation and all their supply and maintenance problems are solved! Makes no sense they would fight for political control of a few hundred rocks in space, and waste their lives trying to steal the equipment and supplies they need. I mean, sign on the dotted line, and they get everything for free without a fight, and the planets are still theirs to do with as they please, just with a Fed governor helping make sure things are run right."
  
  Susa 'Spitball' Henderson sat in the gunner's seat, behind him, with a complex console that controlled targeting and weapons systems. "I guess for some people, the 'idea' of independance is more powerful than whatever the facts of the situation might be."
  
  Jones shook his head in frustration. "I just don't get it, that's all. We're better armed than they are. We've got better skills, better funding. We're going to defeat them in battle pretty much every time, but raiders keep a'coming. They should all - hey, wait a moment, I got something on the scan."
  
  He tapped a few keys on his console, and zoomed in on one of his displays, where small flashes of light flickered in a section of the grid. "Hey, we've got Space Folds in the next sector. Better report it in."
  
  Henderson turned on a Comm channel back to their carrier. "Carrier Opal, this is gunship Iron Eagle Two, out in Sector Two-Oh-Five. We've just scanned incoming starships in Sector Two-Oh-Six. Requesting permission to check it out?"
  
  "This is carrier Opal, that is affirmitive. Watch your tails," the reply came back over the Comm.
  
  "How many are you reading?" Henderson asked Jones.
  
  "Looks like four Space Folds detected. If it's a typical raider force, what, two transports, two of their rickety old gunships, we should be able to take 'em out or send 'em packing," Jones said confidently. Leaning softly on the joystick, he arced the gunship toward the sensor readings, and kicked on the afterburners. The Iron Eagle gunship rocketed forward and into the next sector.
  
  "There they are," he said, seeing starship blips appearing on his radar. "Hang on... these readings can't be right. Can you get some info on your tac console?"
  
  "Just a moment," Henderson said, tapping away on her console. "What the - that can't be right at all. I think our scanner's gone screwy. The scale's all gone wrong."
  
  "What do you mean?" Jones asked hesitantly.
  
  "This says those ships are huge... I mean, the smallest one is five times the size of our carrier!" she replied.
  
  "That can't be right, we've got no ships that big, and the raiders certainly don't have anything like that... Let's get a bit closer, try to get a visual." Jones increased the thrust, closing toward the four unknown starships. "Coming into Optical range... now," he said, and zoomed in on the target location on one of his displays. What he saw was like nothing he had ever seen before. He took a few screen capture images.
  
  "I've taken some shots, send these images back to the Opal, right now!" he ordered.
  
  "Transmitting data," she said, reaching for a button on her console. Something streamed out from one of the unidentified starships, like a beam of concentrated sunlight. The beam engulfed the Iron Eagle. It left nothing behind.
  
  > On Patrol
  It is a typical sunny Mesarian day, a soft breeze rustling leaves and causing the branches of the trees surrounding Fort Dale to sway softly. You walk from the barracks toward the large three-story high mecha hanger by the east walls of the complex, wondering why frontiersman would live on the desolate outer star systems, when they could live on the core worlds and enjoy weather like this. Well, I guess it takes all sorts to make the galaxy go round, you think to yourself.
  
  Entering the hanger, you pause to look up at the twelve Mechanised Assault Units, standing in bays on each side of the hanger. They are standard Fire Hawk and Gatling chassis, the first a multi-role fighting machine, the latter often used for anti-infantry, or anti-gunship purposes. At the rear of the hanger is a thirteenth bay, where the company commander's large M.A.U., a Nova, is parked. Bearing two large energy cannons, and standing almost to the roof of the hanger, it is the toughest M.A.U. fielded by Sol Federation. Of course, it takes the skill and experience of a company commander to pilot such a mecha. At least, that's what your C.O. tells you all.
  
  'Tomcat' and 'Wolfman' walk into the hanger, waving your way as they head for their machines. As the Squad Leader, you are in charge of the fort's M.A.U. Squad Beta, and as your two squadmates, they are under your command. Of course, being about the same age as you are, and having served for about the same amount of time as you have, they don't exactly obey your every whim. At least they obey you when it counts though, when raiders land ground forces on the planet, and you find yourself in the heat of battle.
  
  Turning to your left, you head for a small lift, and slap the 'up' button. It rises upward, taking you behind the torso section of your Gatling M.A.U. The war machine stands like a 7 metre (23 foot) high metal man, with rectangular armour plating panels slapped around joints and further protecting the chest section. Pressing some buttons on the back of the machine, a two-foot thick section of metal slides aside, letting you step into the chest of the machine.
  
  You're already wearing your Pilot Suit, so you close the door behind you, and connect sensor cables to the sockets in your suit, and attach the control pads to the wrists of your suit. The control pads extend out below your hand, allowing you to move your hands about, and always be able to touch the buttons on the control pad that control every facet of the war machine, from targeting and firing weapons, to powering the machine up or down. The suit itself is harnessed to the inside of the machine, locking you into place. After powering up, any time you try to move a part of your body, the limbs of the towering war machine will echo the move. In this way, trying to walk will cause the machine to walk instead of you. Moving your body just the right amount to get the machine to move exactly where and when you want it to is a difficult art, and one that took years of boot-camp training to accomplish, but for a low-level Squad Leader, you think you do pretty good.
  
  Before locking your suit into place, you attach your head equipment, and then you lock the suit, and power up. Instantly your vision goes blank, as your headset pulses into your skull, and interrupts the signals your optic nerves send to your brain. Then it begins to send signals of its own into your brain, as it reads optical information from the camera systems in the head of your war machine.
  
  A moment later, you suddenly feel very big, as you 'look' through the 'eyes' of your Gatling M.A.U., seven meters above the floor of the hanger. You try to turn your head from side to side, and the Gatling's head turns instead, allowing you to look around. Flexing your limbs a bit, you crouch the machine, stand back up, and wave the arms about a little. Everything seems to be in working order. Time to move out.
  
  You step forwards, and the machine steps into the middle of the hanger bay. Tomcat and Wolfman walk their Fire Hawks out beside you, and together the three of you stomp out of the hanger.
  
  "So, Squad Leader, where are we going to patrol today?" Wolfman's voice comes over your headset.
  
  > say "Let's go for a walk in the forests around the Fort,"
  You lead the squad to the towering gates of the Fort. "This is Squad Beta, requesting Gate Clearance," you say to the fort's traffic control tower.
  
  "We read you, Squad Beta. You're good to go," someone replies. The massive gates slide into the Fort's surrounding wall, and you lead your squad out. A large clearing lies between the Fort's walls and the forest that surrounds it, so that any approaching vehicles can always be seen. You lead your men down the main road and into the forest, among the equally towering trees. It's a funny thing, being at eye-level with the tops of many of the trees, and it always takes you a moment to get your balance right, and for the feeling of being a giant to become natural.
  
  Many of the trees are toppled over throughout the forest, from people having stomped out among the trees. Being a three-story high metal man means that you often have to push trees out of the way. While conservationists might have a problem with such actions in some areas of the planet, no one complains when soldiers do it around a fort, as they depend on the forts scattered across the planet for protection, and you never knew if a raider force had secretly touched down, and enemy M.A.U.s were hiding among the trees, waiting for an opportunity to strike.
  
  Well, actually, that sort of thing was pretty rare. The Orbital sensor network always detected incoming ships, and could pinpoint the exact landing location of any military transports on the planet. Anyway, you stomp off among the trees, shoving them out of the way whenever you need to make room for your machine. Wolfman and Tomcat stomp along, off to either side of you.
  
  "One of these days, we're gonna find a raider mecha waiting for us out here, and patrol is going to actually be interesting," Tomcat laughs.
  
  "Hey, anything beats sitting around the barracks, losing at cards to Thunder," Wolfman replies.
  
  Suddenly a ComTech from the Fort speaks over the Fort's military channel. "This is Fort Dale to all units on patrol. Be advised, the planetary sensor network has detected unidentified incoming starships. We haven't been able to establish contact with the carrier scout network... This could be a raider force. Stand By for possible interception coordinates."
  
  "I hope they land in our sector... haven't seen any action in months now," Tomcat says.
  
  "Hang on, did they say they couldn't establish communcations with the carrier scout network? What does that mean? A raider force couldn't take out all the carriers and gunships out there. I haven't heard of them being able to jam our communications either," Wolfman says worriedly.
  
  "Nah, probably just a technical glitch at our Fort. The other Fort's probably heard all about it from the scout network," Tomcat says dismissively.
  
  The ComTech at Fort Dale speaks over the military channel again. "All units on patrol, be advised the planet has been taken to High Alert. We don't know what those ships are up there, but they're huge! Dozens of smaller ships, we assume they're military transports, have come out of the mothers, and are coming down all across the planet. We've got a couple of these transports inbound toward our location. Keep an eye on the skies, people, and if you get in over your head, get back here, and take up defensive positions inside the Fort! The other pilots at Fort Dale are mounting up, and should be ready for action soon."
  
  "What the hell? Multiple transports heading our way? What exactly are we up against?" Wolfman asks anxiously.
  
  "Hey, frontier raiders aren't well armed. They're probably just small transports, full of infantry. We'll mow them down, and be back to the Fort for dinner in no time," Tomcat says confidently.
  
  > say "No, I think Wolfman's right to be worried. Let's head back to the Fort, and take up a defensive position with the rest of our M.A.U. Company,"
  You lead the way back to the Fort. Seeing you coming across the clearing around Fort Dale, Traffic Control opens the doors for you, and you stomp your way into the walled complex. Only a few minutes later, you pick up approaching blips on the scanner hud display which is 'projected' into your mind by your headset, in the corner of your 'vision'. Four large unidentified transports are heading toward the Fort.
  
  You listen to the roaring of flying machines on your M.A.U.'s audio sensors, approaching from the east. The other ten M.A.U.'s of Fort Dale's company have marched out of the Hanger, and begin taking up positions around the perimeter, their outstretched weapon-bearing arms just above the walls of the Fort, pointing in every direction. You quickly take up a position with your squad, along the east wall.
  
  Moments later, you can see the four massive transports. They are about the size of a squad-carrying M.A.U. transport, but they are a bit bulkier and boxier than any M.A.U. transports you've seen before.
  
  In the Fort's courtyard, the infantry division assemble, about a hundred soldiers. Most of them were standard infantry bearing plasmabolt rifles and shocksticks, but a dozen or so were fitted up in battlesuits - three meter tall armoured exoskeltons with clawed robotic hands, and small energy cannons attached to each shoulder.
  
  At the rear of the Fort, another hanger houses a Gunship squad. The six flying machines had just finished powering up and begin to lift up into the air to intercept the enemy transports. Suddenly a thick bolt of lightening blasts out from the nose of the leading enemy transport ship. The lightning crackles loudly as it arcs through the air toward Fort Dale, to explode in the midst of the Gunships! The lightning bolt narrowly misses the Gunships, their pilots scattering the ships away from each other, but two pilots panic, and you watch in horror as their ships crash together in the air, then tumble in a wreck of twisted metal and fire, to crash onto the tarmac.
  
  Some of the other M.A.U. soldiers open fire with their weapons. Your company commander, Captain Jefferson, yells out over the local military channel, "Hold your fire! They're out of range! Save your ammo and power cells! Everyone, get down!"
  
  You join with your company as everyone kneels their M.A.U. war machines behind the Fort's wall. The remaining four Gunships fold down their rotors, and kick on their afterburners, rocketing through the air toward the enemy transports. You watch them fly overhead, then lose sight of them due to the Fort's walls. You hear the roar of the afterburners kick off again as the Gunships draw near to the flying transports, and listen to energy cannons and missiles firing away. A while later, you hear the loud crack of another lightning strikes, and some explosions. Then there is a tremendous crashing sound, and the ground shakes.
  
  "Looks like it takes them a while to recharge that lightning cannon. Someone get a look at what's happening out there!" Captain Jefferson orders.
  
  > say "I'll do it,"
  You quickly stand up and look out over the walls of Fort Dale through the eyes of your Gatling war machine.
  
  "Sir, the Gunships are all down, but it looks like they took out one of the enemy transports!" you report, looking at the smoke and flames rising from the distant fields beyond the forest. Three of the large transports are hovering in the air near the wreckage. Then you see some sort of flickering light at the front of one of the transports.
  
  > Curious, you decide to keep watching, and see what it does next.
  Seconds later, you remember about it's strange energy weapon, and then you watch as the weapon finishes charging up, and a massive bolt of lightning surges through the air with a loud crack. It is the last sound you ever hear, as the lightning bolt blasts the top half of your M.A.U. to scrap, taking most of your body with it.
  
  This is the end, for you...