I managed to send another round of plasma blasts and the giant beast began to tumble, the nodosaurus fell down and rolled right over the rider. I hoped they were both down for the count. At this point, I could see the steaming breath coming out of these monstrous beasts. Facing them directly, it was far more scary than when my squad of synths had taken them down in front of me on our field test. I felt less in danger in my body armor there, than I did in my giant mech here. But here I had to rely on my own skills to attack and defend us all. The remaining three large beasts lowered their heads and aimed for my legs! I turned my body sideways at the last minute and lashed out with my leg. I made solid contact with the beast on the right, but it barely moved! And I almost face planted my mech on the ground. That would have been very embarrassing, and lethal if they managed to gore me from behind. At least I dodged the charge. I pivoted and stopped messing around. I began to sequentially target the dinosaurs, 2 full rounds, half a minute, of me doing nothing but shooting was enough to to take down a charging monster. That was two of the big ones down and only 30 more to go?

  I was ignoring the smaller dinosaurs and their riders, even though they would try to stab or shoot me, constantly. I did step out of the way of the charging dinosaurs. I saw what that horn did to my armored Squad Leader synth and I didn't want Gretta to get that kind of damage. In the back of my mind I could feel that the Squad Leader was issuing orders to the protection detail. We had 21 synths, a Bulldozer, 2 crazy friends, and me against 100 monsters and riders. 8 to 1 did not sound like good odds to me when they had rampaging beasts.

  As I continued to shoot at dinosaurs, I noticed that Squad Leader was indeed changing tactics, learning on the fly. At first I had ordered everyone to engage, weapons free. The Squad Leader had repeated that command to every synth. They were each identifying targets and engaging with local discretion. Within a few attacks however, the tempo began to change. The Squad Leader began to designate priority targets.

  First the riders were identified. The synths began to pair up and go after the same targets in teams. They were able to take out riders twice as fast, with their silent and near instantaneous communication. Given the number of Ostrosauruses the Leader adapted again and shifted the priority to the riders of the nodosauruses. After a few of the riders had been killed the dinosaurs didn't leave the battlefield but they became a lot less effective and didn't menace us or charge the trailers or my mech. Dang it. Why didn't I think to target the squishy riders instead of the giant, scary, beasts. I began to shift my targets and go after the riders around me. Now after a full round of firing, sometimes even more quickly, I was able to knock a rider off their mount.

  My Squad Leader noticed that with 2 synths targeting every rider they were able to knock them off nearly as quickly as I was. It seemed like their smaller plasma pulse rifles and Universal Gauss Assault Rifles didn't have great range. They had to wait for the attackers to get closer. And while flexible they didn't have the sustained damage output that even some of the attackers had with their eclectic rifles.

  Shaking my head again, I moved away from the trailers and convoy and attempted to draw several of the larger attackers with me. The buses had holes punched straight through them, the Kombi-Max was further back but it had nano-blade score marks and a few plasma scorches from the smaller riders that got around us. The RVs were floating over, and into the smaller dinosaurs. The flatbeds, well, they were fine, but our equipment on both of them looked singed as well. I noticed several of my synths had fallen off the vehicles and were lying still on the ground. Crap, this was not going well as my stomach dropped out of the pilot compartment and onto the ground 10m below me.

  The monsters seemed disinclined to follow me at first. But a few shoves and kicks from my giant mech got their attention, and then some. Ten of the riders of the big beasts screamed at each other out the din and somehow were able to communicate. They all turned and began to charge right at me. I knew I could dodge three or four at a time, but I had no idea how I could miss an entire warband of them charging and surrounding me! Then to make matters worse 15 Ostrosauruses and their riders began to race toward me as well, peppering my head and shoulder mounted missile launchers with their exploding arrows and rifle blasts. That probably wasn't good for the missiles. I began to panic.

  Well panic more. I decided to go for broke. I told my Squad Leader to utilize Fullbore maneuvers. They would max out their strength, speed, and endurance, they would use full auto and all resources to defeat their targets. I then ordered every single drone in my buses to grab a weapon, get out and fight. I probably should have done that, at the beginning, but this was my first battle. Oh and before those commands, I launched four medium range missiles, traveling at 700 m/ s, with a range of 70 km, to target the 10 nodosaurses that were 30m in front of me.

  I didn't know if they could launch due to the damage, I didn't know if they could target lock that close, I didn't know if they could hit targets even if they were that close, and I especially didn't know which medium range missiles I had launched. It took the missiles ~0.0487 seconds to reach their target. The acceleration of these missiles was unearthly. The fiery explosion that followed was ungodly. The plasma sphere that resulted from the four medium missiles simultaneously detonating completely blinded me. Gretta engaged my RF and optical filters. I was blind and deaf for several seconds. But I was also alive, and more terrified than I had ever been in my life.

  Perhaps four missiles was too much?

  As my optics came online I saw ash and devastation. The plasma fireball had blown up in an elongated ovoid shape. Thankfully the oval was perpendicular to me and not any closer. There were no bodies left. The riders were gone, the smaller Ostrosauruses were gone. Parts of the bones and horns and hooves were left from the 4 ton, 7m tall, 13m long dinosaurs. But nothing identifiable as a once living creature, monster or otherwise was left.

  I threw up, a lot, in my copilot’s seat.

  I stared at the circular depression that was once level ground. The ash from the flash vaporization had covered a circle 500m in diameter all around me. The entire front of my mech had microfractures. I could feel them more than I could measure or see them. The pretty green and gold paint scheme was completely gone from the front and sides of my mech. It was vaporized and boiled off in an instant.

  I was lucky to be alive.

  I was especially lucky none of the horns or shots had pierced my armor before the explosion. The plasma would have entered my robot vehicle and liquified the insides, instantly.

  That one was one expensive trigger pull, 60,000 cred for the four missiles and who knows how much death and damage liability. Plus the cleaning fee for my co-pilot seat. I shouldn’t be joking, but even I could tell I was in shock.

  >>What do I do, Big Fe?>>

  I don't know if the battle was still going on, I didn't know if we had won or lost. I felt the image of a giant fireball seared into my eyes. I know mentally that was impossible because even as fast as the explosion was, the automatic filters and protection screens had engaged. I wasn't blind. But I could still tell, burned into my eyes, and into my soul I would always be able to see the plasma cloud fireball when I closed my eyes.

  Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

  I heard voices coming over the convoyNET, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. I felt that my Squad Lead was still issuing commands, but at a less frequent pace. I was glad to know he made it at least. The cooler breeze continued to stir up the ashes and dust that swirled around me. The sun periodically shining through gaps in the clouds lit up the battlefield in stark relief, only to cloud over and plunge the entire area into shades of gray, ashes of gray.

  A knock on my top hatch startled me. I used my external video feed, which amazingly still worked, and saw that Miles was hovering over my vehicle ‘bot. I got up and opened the top hatch.

  I stared at Miles.

  He opened his helmet. His striking elven features were streaked with sweat, but he still looked unearthly beautiful.

  “I just wanted to make sure you were ok Gabriela,... Gabby. Are you ok? Did you suffer any harm?” He asked me slowly. His voice sounded far away like the radio voices, but at least I could make out the words he was using.

  “I am fine, all good in here.” I responded, staring at the armored hatch lid.

  He paused and assessed my face, my body and the interior of Gretta. “Okay Gabriela, very glad to hear you are not harmed. Currently, the Neamen riders of dinosaurs have fled after your additional troops joined the field and your giant explosion landed on their right flank. Landed almost on you.” He paused to look at me for a response.

  Hearing none, he continued, “But be careful, we are not out of the woods yet, as you say, several of the giant dinosaur analogs continue to roam free and the Neamen could return at any moment. We are trying to effect repairs so we can get underway again. One of the Runabout trucks was shot up and we are not sure if everything else is still safe to drive or move yet.”

  Pausing to observe me even longer. I stood there and absorbed the silence and the strong smell of ash in the air. I hadn't been able to smell that before. Piloting mech vehicles is the best, but the sense of touch and smell is not captured at all. Unless you open the hatch or step on a boulder.

  Miles bid me farewell and flew back toward the convoy.

  I stared at the hatch until the breeze distributed me again and I closed it with rote muscle movements.

  Convoy.

  I wonder how the convoy had fared. I wish Miles had said something about that. Oh well. I could look it up at the pilot console in a moment.

  I sat down on the floor in front of my closet and stared at the door handle. I really have to hand it to the PCC engineers, even their hinges and latches were efficient, effective, and well built.

  I opened and closed the closet to my armor, over, and over again. Really great engineering.

  The radio continued to drone on in the background for an hour. But I was fine where I was.

  Eventually I heard my name being called, repeated on the radio.

  “Sunny to Gabby, Gabby are you there? Gabby. Gabby? Gabby!?”

  I walked over to the radio and keyed my helmet mic. “Yeah Sunny I am here, no need to repeat yourself.”

  “Oh thank Quad. Repeat myself? Gabby, it's been… never mind. We are all set. Everyone survived. We have all the cargo stowed and vehicles secured. And Gabby I didn't forget your synths. We collected every single one and put them back on the kombi-bus.”

  “Oh, okay Sunny, sure.” I responded; not sure why he was telling me this.

  He continued, “We are all set to hit the road. We hope we can connect with another convoy or even hire some merc’s for extra protection, are you ready to roll out?”

  “Sure, ready to go now.” I responded.

  The next hour, or four, I wasn't sure, went by peacefully.

  I fully submerged myself into Gretta. One foot in front of the other. I followed the rearmost trailer.

  Tracking the taillights and thermal signature.

  Keeping pace with it was child's play.

  Every so often Miles’s RV would fall out of line and slow down next to me for a spell, and then return to the front.

  Later Alexandria’s RV would do the same thing.

  They must have had leg cramps or something. Seemed they couldn't use the auto-pilot or throttle correctly.

  Gretta was an amazingly complex piece of art.

  I usually focused on the hardware software co-design, firmware, and higher complexity systems.

  But the mechanics, the servos, fiber-optics, hydraulics, conduits, sluices, and transceivers were magnificent.

  Each had a function and purpose.

  Each was measurable and quantifiable.

  It was operating in specification for the given conditions and age, or it wasn't.

  Mechanical engineering had a cleanliness that I hadn’t noticed before.

  I began to survey every single mechanical component, starting with the feet that rhythmically struck the hardpack dirt of the dusty road that eventually appeared beneath them.

  Moving sequentially up the chassis reviewing every, single, component.

  The trailer in front of me had stopped minutes ago.

  Gretta’s legs had stopped moving too, which was good.

  The radio voices had been impossible to hear the entire trip, and I couldn't make it out now. I guess I would have to fix that.

  I reached out with my telemechanic abilities to diagnose the radio hardware, and nothing was wrong. Huh.

  I guess the others needed to speak louder then, when they were using their radios.

  Another knock on my hatch disturbed my thought processes. I saw a familiar face and opened the hatch. Estéril was clinging to the ladder.

  She gave me a smile, and asked “Can I come in, please?”

  I didn't know Minotaurs could climb.

  “Of course,” I replied.

  She carefully climbed through the hatch and into the pilot’s compartment. Her nose wrinkled for a moment. She must have had an itch.

  “I brought you some dinner, Molly made burgers.” She said, trying to sound excited. “Miles and I were hoping you would come down and have dinner with us below? None of us have eaten yet. But Sunny thought you wouldn't want to. So I brought this.” She indicated a nicely wrapped basket with food, presumably burgers inside.

  I nodded my head.

  She looked and me waited, and then asked, “So will you come down?”

  I smiled at her, “Oh no I am good. I have lots of work to do up here. No time to come down.”

  She paced around the pilot’s compartment, no mean feat given the tiny hallway leading to the hatch with the four closets on either side. And the four seats in the cockpit. That and her robust size as a Minotaur cyborg. She nodded her head. “Sure, we should get to Neu Ca?on tomorrow afternoon. Hopefully no more encounters and we get there safe…” She stopped talking and looked at me.

  “Frell, I mean, nevermind. Your grandmother and grandfather, on your dad’s side; they live there?” She asked.

  “Yes.” I responded.

  “Great, I am sure they are excited to see you and you are excited to see them?”

  “No.”

  “No?” Gabby why would you say that about family?”

  “Bad memories,” I replied.

  The totally normal silence dragged on for minutes.

  She continued, “Okay, well I am going to get going. And Gabby, we all care for you, okay. We are worried and you did a brave and amazing thing. Sunny wishes so much he could come up here but, well, treads and size. So please be okay and talk to Sunny. Deal?”

  Not hearing anything, she continued to herself “Okay.” She turned and gingerly, but lithely, climbed out the roof hatch and down Gretta into the night.

  Her hooves could somehow grab ladder rungs. Huh.

  It was night now, I guess.

  That means it was bedtime. I walked past a basket. A basket I had no idea how it got there, or why I kept in the pilot’s compartment, and set-up my hammock for bed.