Nicholas Smith - The Biomass Revolution

“Thanks,” Spurious replied.

A pair of heavy boot steps interrupted them, prompting the two to turn and watch Creo enter the room, his radio blaring to life.

“Listen,” he shouted, an excited grin on his face.

“We’ve captured the CRK garage. Facing light resistance. If the TDU is out there we have…” a pause of static broke over the channel. Creo shook his wrist and smacked the radio in frustration, but only static hissed out.

“We have four Fox Hounds and a dozen Scorpions. Need assistance. Over.”

“Holy shit,” Nathar said, clapping his hands in excitement.

“Roger. TDU here, identify yourself.”

Static broke out over the channel for several moments.

“This is Mulia. Immigrant from liberated Camp #4. We have captured the vehicle garage and are coordinating a counter offensive with wards in Rohania. We need TDU assistance as soon as possible. Over.”

“Roger. What is your location? Over,” Creo asked.

“Two blocks from the CRK headquarters, just south of the SGS building.”

“I know where that is!” Spurious shouted, interrupting the transmission.

“Roger. Give us 15 minutes. Hold your position!” Creo shouted into the radio.

Ajax slung his rifle around his shoulders and took one last glance out the broken window, glassing the city below. “This is our chance. I have always wanted to drive a Fox Hound. Let’s move out!”

Time: 8:11 a.m. February 29, 2071

Location:Lunia, Tisaia

“Be careful!” Creo yelled over the Fox Hound’s intercom. He gripped his arm rests tightly, the vehicle tearing out of the metal garage and shredding the slightly ajar door before plunging onto the cobblestone streets below.

“Hold on!” Ajax shouted, gripping the controls tightly. He took a hard left, scraping the side of a maintenance building, a trail of sparks raining down on the tank’s armor.

The tank barreled down the street, cracking the ancient bricks below its heavily chained tires.

“Any targets yet, Nathar?” Ajax asked, peering through a small slit above the control panels.

Nathar rotated into a comfortable position at his weapon station, trying to make sense of the battle blue screens connected to cameras built into the armor of the tank. The four holographic screens gave him a 360 degree view of the streets.

“Nothing yet, sir, but I’m picking up chatter over the radio.” He paused, pushing one of the padded ear phones against his head and straining to listen.

“Sounds like the remaining Tin Cans are dug in at the Golden Dome and there are sporadic pockets of resistance between our location and the arena.” Nathar paused again, desperately trying to make sense of the radio chatter overwhelming the channel. “I’m also hearing they have RPGs set up on roof tops a few blocks from here. So stay sharp,” Nathar finished.

Creo took another glance through the scope, the empty streets emerging through his viewer.

“Keep an eye on those rooftops,” Ajax shouted over the tank’s intercom.

Creo scanned the skyline, stopping on an abandoned high rise decapitated by the blast from a nuke decades ago. Something in the tangled metal was moving, and then a flash of light, a black dot breaking through the gray haze, with a flaming trail behind it.

“RPG!” he screamed, bracing against the metal skin of the tank wall, his hands covering his ears tightly.

The missile plowed into the side of the tank, creating an expensive dent in the armor before exploding and rocking the tank to its right side.

Creo attempted to recover, but his ears were ringing and vision blurred. He rubbed his eyes and squinted into the scope, gripping the joystick tightly. As the outline of the two Knights came into focus, he didn’t hesitate in pulling the hard metal trigger. He watched the uranium tipped projectile sail towards the rooftop; a flash of light blinding him, the floor where the Knights once stood disappearing in an orange explosion.

Creo laughed. “Holy shit!” he yelled. “I turned them to scrap metal!”

“Stay sharp.” Ajax instructed. “There could be more.”

Creo regained his composure quickly, firing off another shell towards a Scorpion at the end of the street where two more Knights fired a .50 cal.

He watched the white streaks of lead racing towards them and listened to their harmless pings ring out on the tank’s armor. Creo couldn’t help but smile. It was the first time in his life the .50 cal bursts from a Scorpion had no way of killing him.

He peered back into his scope and pulled the trigger, listening to the shell explode out of the tank’s gun. The first shot went wide, shattering the foundation of a stone building and lifting the Scorpion into the air from the blast. He squinted again, waiting for the cross hairs to line up with the Scorpion, but the Knights were already retreating. He watched them peel off the curb, shredding a tire before escaping down the cobblestone street.

Creo stomped the metal floor of the tank. “Damn, missed them,” he yelled over the intercom.

“It’s okay, they’re heading towards a pocket of Rohanian rebels,” Nathar said, studying his blue screen intensely. “We’re only a block from the dome.”

“Creo, keep an eye out for more RPGs. A few more direct hits and we’re toast.” Ajax said.

“Yes, sir.”

Creo took a deep breath and squinted into the scope again, observing the same empty street, a few of the buildings raging with flames. The rooftops were empty, no heat signals.

The tank reared sharply to the left and slowed, the magnificent Golden Dome coming into focus. A trail of smoke roared out of a gaping hole in the dome, sending a chill down Creo’s back. On the ground, hundreds of Rohanians and immigrants surrounded the structure. He scanned the countless men and women, their faces blurry through the gray morning.

“Holy shit, will you look at that?” Ajax said. “If Obi could only have seen this.”

Nathar blinked, rubbing his eyes. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. The blue screens showed the entire Golden Dome surrounded. Rohanians sat perched on rooftops, in office windows, against concrete barriers, and hidden behind trucks. The Knights were trapped.

“Guys, I’m hearing chatter that the other Knight positions have already fallen. This is it. This is the last of them!” Nathar shouted.

“Get Ran on the line. I want him to bring Spurious to our location asap,” Ajax ordered.

With a deep groan, Ajax unlocked the gmetal hatch to the Fox Hound, swinging it open like a cupboard door. Cautiously he stuck his head out, barely flinching as two stray bullets ricocheted off the tanks armor.

“Damn,” he said, surveying the hundreds of Rohanian rebels and immigrants surrounding the Golden Dome. He watched the small army advance in awe. They cut through the dense fog crawling across the gray field, undeterred by the sniper bullets cutting through the silence of the morning.

“Over here, Ajax!” a voice yelled from the street.

The monstrous soldier turned to see Spurious running towards the tank.

“We have the Knights surrounded and the rest are on the run. The rebels are waiting for orders!” he yelled ecstatically.

Ajax climbed out of the tank, Nathar and Creo close behind.

“Take cover!” Ajax exclaimed, ducking behind the safety of the armor. Another sniper bullet ricocheted off the metal, a ping echoing in his ears.

Creo crouched beside Spurious, his head hidden behind the safety of the tank’s metal shell. “Who’s calling the shots?” he shouted over the sporadic gunfire.

“A ward leader from Rohania named Susa, apparently. I don’t know. Everything has been chaotic since I arrived with Ran!” Spurious yelled.