By Vega's estimates, eight mechs were lost in the drop, along with an entire dropship carrying the company's infantry support element; still, thirty-two mechs against what seemed to be a battalion-sized infantry force, a support weapon element at that, was overkill as it is.

  For a second, nobody moved; men stared up at the mechs in horror and fear, their faces agape with terror. Facing them, the UEN mech pilots quickly assessed the situation.

  All the enemy manned weapons were anti-air; they were too slow and cumbersome to be used as anti-mech guns. As far as Vega can see, none of the enemy had anti-mech weapons, not even a portable launcher.

  "Company, weapons free!" Vega raised her pulse rifle. "Light 'em up!"

  In the dim light of the setting sun, the line of mechs opened fire on the bewildered infantry, torrents of aimed fire wreaking havoc on men and machinery.

  Vega's own rifle produced a steady flash as she pumped round after round into the exposed gunners, her targeting sensors lighting up like a Christmas tree. The infantry who were frozen in shock were now scattering, diving into cover or making a mad dash for their rear lines.

  Her pulse rifle was loaded with explosive rounds; against enemy mechs, light armor would be shredded, but against people, the effects were nothing short of horrifying.

  Those hit directly exploded into mist, raining gore and giblets onto their comrades; others who were grazed or took a glancing shot lost a limb if they were lucky.

  Facing virtually no resistance, the mechs swept aside the infantry and silenced the guns, mopping up anyone else left. It was all over within moments; anyone not dead or wounded had run off, leaving the field unchallenged.

  Thirty-two mechs were still active on Vega's display; she breathed a sigh of relief. It was confirmation that there weren't any anti-mech weapons on site, not yet, at least. No doubt those that fled to the rear had raised the alarm; anti-mech weapons were likely inbound.

  "Captain!"

  She turned, facing a friendly mech; his ID tag marked him as Kilo Team, K-2, specifically.

  Hector. Vega lowered her weapon. "Good seeing you, sergeant. Where's your team lead?"

  "Lost him in the drop, ma'am." Hector's voice dripped with weariness. "Heard we lost the LT, too."

  "Unconfirmed. I need you to verify." Vega sighed, looking over the momentarily calm battlefield. The carnage wrought by the mechs was strewn about, soaking the muddy earth in sanguine ichor; a few bands of survivors, hands raised, were being corralled by many of her subordinates. "Take Kilo and sweep the downed transponders. See if you can find any survivors."

  "Roger." Hector turned to leave. "Any word on the second wave?"

  "Not yet. I'll keep you posted." Vega could already see them in the distance; enemy mechs, charging towards their position. She estimated about two dozen of them, of various classes and sizes, and wielding large-caliber weapons. Some of them were even only armed with melee weapons. "We'll hold here. Bring back any survivors if you find them, torch their mechs if they're down."

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  As Hector and his team lumbered off, Vega and the rest of her mechs braced themselves. They weren't facing defenseless infantry anymore: these were their fighting equals.

  Streaks of tracers and gunfire erupted from both sides as the enemy mechs closed in; some got within close-quarters and engaged in melee with Vega's mechs. The sound of crashing steel mixed in with deafening fire very nearly overwhelmed her audio dampeners; her cockpit shuddered with each explosion and shot, the din of combat enveloping her entirely.

  A heavily armored mech, a pattern she recognized as a Rhino-class, charged straight towards her, tossing aside two smaller mechs without stopping.

  She poured fire on it to no avail, her rounds bouncing harmlessly off of its heavy armor plates.

  Shit. She held her fire, her rifle still trained on the incoming mech; right before it would collide with her, she fired her boosters, sidestepping the charging machine by a hair.

  Explosive rounds weren't going to cut it; something heavier was needed. As the enemy mech slowed and turned to face her again, she switched her rounds to slug-cores.

  The Rhino charged again; this time, Vega's fire was much more effective.

  Her rate of fire was much slower, but the heavier rounds practically peeled open the Rhino like a can opener. The mech's arm, then leg were sheared off by the slug-cores, sending it toppling to the ground; Vega kept up the fire, dissecting the Rhino's torso and pilot compartment until it exploded in a brilliant flash.

  Before she could react, another enemy mech was on her; this time, it was a lithe Archer-class, a nimble machine that was smaller, but much faster than hers.

  She could barely register its presence before it had already landed several blows on her mech, violently rocking her cockpit as she stumbled back.

  Her rifle had been knocked out of her hands, and the Archer was much more strategic than the Rhino. The blows were deliberate; they had knocked out her ancillary optics, leaving her with limited vision to fight with.

  A few sparks fizzled in her cockpit as she regained her footing. The Archer was right in front of her, continuing to land blows against her hull as she raised her arms in an attempt at defense.

  So it's gonna be like that, huh. She maintained her defense, keeping her arms close and her mech hunched over. The Archer was fast, but its moves were growing predictable; its pilot must think Vega was on her last ropes.

  It was far from it; as the Archer threw another punch, Vega moved swiftly, grabbing the smaller mech's arm and moving in close. In one smooth motion, she tossed the Archer to the ground in a textbook judo throw, before raising her foot and stomping right atop the mech's cockpit, crumpling it like paper.

  By her display, six additional friendly mechs were knocked out in the fighting; the Rhino and Archer included, she counted seven enemy mechs lying smoldering on the ground.

  As a few friendly mechs surged past her to engage additional inbound enemies, she was allowed a brief moment of breathing space.

  It was then that it hit her.

  The fighting had been so hectic, she had neglected a core tenet: she needed to regroup with her command team.

  Opening up her comms, she pinged the other members of her team, breathless. "Falcon Team, this is Falcon-1. Sorry to check in late, everyone call in."

  "Falcon-2, here." Cam, her second-in-command, was the first to respond. "I'm with Falcon-5 and 3."

  A moment went by before the last member checked in. "Falcon-4, checking in. Glad to see you're still with us, captain." Ariana, or Ari, was the team's designated marksman. "I'm perched up about five-zero meters from your position. Was wondering when you'd call in."

  "Better late than never, I guess." Vega frowned. "Nobody else called in when I didn't?"

  "We tried," Cam quipped. "You never responded."

  Vega cursed herself; she had gotten carried away again and only monitored company-wide comms, rather than her own lines. "Sorry, guys. All me."

  "No worries, cap." She could hear Ari smiling, the characteristic faint click of her teeth. "Always next time, eh?"

  By now, the UEN mechs had managed to push back the enemy mechs, who were in full retreat. Only twenty-two mechs were still showing as active; almost half her force had been lost. With the guns silenced, Vega could see the additional dozen or so dropships descending from the sky, the main force her company had acted as the vanguard for.

  "Cavalry's here, folks. Let's pack it up and let the ground-pounders handle it." Vega turned, walking towards the landing dropships. "Regroup on me. Day's not over, yet."