//------------------------------// // Distractions // Story: Legacy // by NFire //------------------------------// We are bearers of precious gifts, everywhere we go, our memories. --Anonymous Memories. That is all I have now. Far and away, long and long ago they were the present. Now, they are a past that is less than dust, consigned to whatever books may be written about them if anyone does inquire. But they are mine, I choose to cherish them. They are stability when needed, and free to share with others when asked. Athena is testing a new neural circuitry that may allow the others to at least see inside the network, if not participate. I do hope it goes well. Nothing but a twist on an old design, but it may work. Multiples are a problem, one that is interesting and that we are striving to solve. We will be sending her to the Crystal Empire in a few days, regardless of whether they can all join the trip. It is imperative we find out if there is any technology left from our era. If it is, then salvage is definitely a possibility. I ponder this, sitting on a familiar bench, watching the sun make its way across an afternoon sky. Athena and the others have gathered on her command deck to try the new headsets she has fabricated. “Crusader?” “Yes, Athena?” “We’re linked! Working okay so far. How about sharing something?” “I am sure you have plenty of memories Athena, or a game program and such.” “No, I want one of yours, you have way cooler stuff!” “You do not need mine Athena.” “Please?” “Very well.” Opening into TSDS is a simple thing, .0000032 seconds later we are meshed deeply. I worry not for my mind is becoming more stable with each day, the dreams are fading into nonexistence. She did not say what memories I should choose to show. I reach back into my archives.... ----- “Captain, this battle formation makes no sense.” Crusader was only a few years in service now, he and his compatriots still struggling to understand humans and their vagaries. The lean human tilted the command chair backwards, booted feet firmly planted on the console, “Ah, that’s where you’re wrong my friend!” A finger pointed in the air, “We are on maneuvers, so we should test different things.” A grin upon the face of his current commander made Crusader puzzled. “Are we not only supposed to stand watch?” The four Bolos were currently stationed on the airless moon, standing guard while Concordiat forces and their fellow Bolos below on the lush planet built a forward base against incursion from the Deng. Currently, the four Bolos were moving in a line as designated by their commanding officers, puzzling all four of the newly minted Cognitus Mark Bolos. They were in a line, four abreast as they traveled over the dusty landscape. His question forgotten by the busy officer. “Bring us around thirty degrees south Crusader, please.” “At once Captain.” “What, exactly, are we doing?” This from Unit of the Line HDR (Hadrian), breaking into the whisker laser communications that linked them all together. “I am not sure. Should we not trust our officers?” Crusader replied. “Of course. But this ‘maneuver’ makes no absolutely no sense.” Joshua, Unit of the Line JSH interjected. “We have much to learn, I suspect.” The stentorian voice of Unit CSR (Caesar) added. “We do. But according to battle records and historical files, this ‘maneuver’ has never been used before. What is the purpose?” Joshua’s young voice was still wondering. “We are just wandering.” They huge battle machines pondered this as they tore across the airless land, kicking up clouds of dust that fell slowly in the light gravity. All of them listening in on the inter-unit commbands as their officers talked, hoping to get a clue as to what was going on. “So, how long are we stuck here again?” Joshua’s commander was commiserating, the screen showing her leaning on the console and toying with a stuffed animal. “Six long, boring, uneventful months, with four to go.” Caesar’s officer was fiddling with a portable game system, his broad face showing he wasn’t thrilled with that thought. Crusader’s officer hadn’t moved, reaching into a small cooler and cracking open a bulb of fizzy drink that he gulped down, “Well, we got each other, and four more months of Meals, Ready to Barf. ‘Least it’s something.” Hadrian’s officer leaned into the camera, “Meanwhile, those jerks are down on a tropical planet enjoying the beaches, the air, can actually go outside without an environment suit if they want to take a walk!” He threw his hands up, pacing on the deck. “No one said Bolo Command would be all action.” “True.” Hands were raised in air quotes, “But this is far beyond ‘boring’.” “Alrighty folks, turn another thirty degrees south! On my command...mark!” The four huge machines in a line abreast quickly obeyed, response times were excellent in the Mark Twenty-Four hulls, the wide treads grinding stones to powder as they made their way across the moons’ face. Anti-Air and turrets swiveled as they searched for threats, keeping themselves on alert as they listened to their human counterparts. Systems were checked and rechecked, everything working in top order as the four Bolos listened eagerly. “There’s always war games...” Hadrian’s officer was shouted down. The Bolos won every time, even when handicapped. “They are discontented.” Joshua stated the obvious. The others agreed, “Humans do not seem to be made for waiting.” “But what purpose does this all serve?” Hadrian asked once more. “I do not know,” Crusader’s voice came across the bands, “My officer seems to have something in mind, but I can see no usefulness in this type of action. Perhaps it is an attempt to learn about our capabilities? We are new.” The four Units of the Line were happily engaged in trying to find out about their officers, the human race in general. Battle Reflex being authorized, gave them a chance to think. AI’s being inquisitive, they sought to discover more, to work with and be partners to this race that had given them life. Being the very first self-aware Units, they were not fully informed yet of everything the Human race did or would do. “All Units!” The Bolos perked up, waiting for the command. “HALT!” Four multi-thousand ton war machines locked their treads and came to a skidding stop in the dust, engines rumbling as they awaited their next order. Joshua’s officer sat back in her chair with a laugh, “Shore leave coming up in one minute!” The rest of the Bolo officers joined her, grinning at each other. “Perhaps we are looking at this the wrong way,” Caesar sent a .00001 second burst of data that had all the other Units suddenly amused. ----- Night fell on the warm planet, a tropical breeze swept away any hint of stifling heat, a constant temperature that made it better than Earth. A calm tide and shores of glistening white made a veritable paradise for the troops and Bolos stationed there as they constructed fortifications. General Wayans watched the night slowly fade in, bringing with it the light reflected off of the lonely moon and sighed. He turned wearily to his aide, “Get the transport and switch the Bolos out now.” “Yessir!” The aide took off at a dead run. He sighed once more, looking up at the shining ball of rock and the biggest middle finger in the galaxy pointing down at all of them. ----- The laughter was loud over the network as Athena told them what it meant. Crusader smiled to himself as he sat on the lonely bench, hearing his sister almost hiccup as she laughed harder than he’d ever known. “You made all that up!” “I did not, we were brand new in service and still learning about humans.” He could see the group, sans Pinkie for some reason, wiping tears out of their eyes. “That was hilarious!” “I am glad you enjoyed it. I shall leave..” “Oh no! C’mon! Show some more!” “Athena, you do not need me with this. You are perfectly capable of doing this yourself.” “Please?” He sighed internally, she would not let go of this. He saw the others on the command deck already enjoying buckets of popcorn as they waited. Fine. Once again he reached back.... To a time when even though he had been in service for more than half a century, he was still learning about humans. ----- The Bolo Transport Ship Kubrick was in trouble, dire trouble. She, and the convoy she was in, that had been traveling to the relief of a beleagured colony had been ambushed as they had slipped out from travel mode to normal space. The Melconian guns had ravaged the protecting cruisers as they had tried to run. The Bolos attached to the outside of the ship were heavily damaged, even they could only take point blank fire from a Melconian heavyweight for so long before succumbing. But they had taken payment in kind. Three of four Melconian Dreadnoughts had been shattered by broadsides of 200cm Hellbores that were deadly accurate from very angry Bolos. Now we were running for our lives, trying to get the travel engines repaired as well as fending off the remaining raider. “Patton is down, so are Claudius and Isis. They are too heavily damaged, their weapons are disabled, and internal repairs will not be effective in time.” Crusader’s voice was calm, as always, informing his most recent officer of the situation. “I am receiving emergency signals from the rest, they have retreated into Survival Centers until they can receive Depot Class maintenance.” A shaking hand went up to a weary face, they had been on the run for days now and it was only getting worse. Crusader saw his commanding officer become thin from worry. “How about you Crusader, what’s the story?” “I am out of all secondary ammunition. We cannot transfer from the damaged units as ships crew cannot spare anyone to repair the transport mechanisms. Casualties were very high Gerald. They are barely effecting repairs as it is.” The worried face nodded, “It would take half the crew to ship ammunition even if we were fully staffed. How about Hellbore rounds?” He knew the transport and loading systems were history, nothing they could do would get them running again. “I have none left. I cannot fabricate any unless I have deuterium or the water to break down for necessary components.” “I know, I know, we need what’s left for the crew.” Cooling systems were shot to hell, and being this close to a blazing sun, what was left of the crew needed that water desperately to survive. Crusader had no answer, he was trying desperately to concoct a plan of action and having no success. It was frustrating to say the least. The Melconian ship was hot on their heels, closing in for the kill as they swung around this solar systems primary, the Kubrick trying to gain enough speed for a whiplash into space that would give them breathing room. The puppies were being stubborn, wanting to smash the Bolo transport. Signals had been received from incoming Concordiat battleships, but they would not catch up in time to save the Kubrick from destruction. Scant reassurance that the Melconians would be defeated only after they and the Kubrick were atomized. “Bring up that list of supplies again, let me see what this ship has in inventory Crusader.” The officers face was studious as he perused the list popping up on a screen, his head tilted for a moment before he asked a question. “Crusader, Melconian Dreadnoughts have a serious sensor flaw correct?” “Correct Captain. Their sensor systems are not as advanced as ours, we outdo them in technology. On older Melconian Dreadnought Class ships they tend to put them forward and aft, leaving none to cover port and starboard, a fatal error that they are correcting.” “Is this one of the old-style ships chasing us?” “Yes. Readouts indicated she is the Fist of Honor, first recognized in battle twenty years ago.” The officer leaned forward with a feral grin, “Do you have at least half the components for a Hellbore shot?” “I have some Cryo-H slush, but it would not produce much of a war shot Captain. It would not damage the Melconian ship enough to make it retreat, probability is ninety percent it would do no damage at all.” The uniformed figure stood up with a fist in the air, “That’s fine, just fine. How long will we be swinging ‘round this sun?” “We have six hours until we slingshot, that would give us enough headway to keep them at bay. Unfortunately they will be in firing range within two hours.” “Never you mind that, Crusader my friend, we’ve got a plan! More than enough time!” The human ran off to grab a null-grav loading sled. Crusader watched him running as fast as weak legs could take him to the storage bays, the heat was blistering without cooling systems. Grabbing crewmen on the way to help him in this last hour effort, he charged off leading a weary group. We do? Almost two hours later, a lot of sweat, a bit of blood and an entire lexicon of cursing in different languages, they were set. “Captain, I am not sure this will work, there is a forty percent chance of..” A finger rose in the air, “Question not my faithful warrior, for your commander knows whereof he speaks!” Leaning over the console, he pounded the keys, “Alright let’s get ready.” Reaching over to the intercom, he keyed up the ships bridge, “Bridge, ready for maneuvers?” A skeptical voice came back, “We’re ready Captain Creedy. You sure this is gonna work?” “Of course not! But them’s the chances we take!” Crusader’s officer was laughing as he cut the communications. “Alright Crusader, when the ship turns, fire when you’re ready.” “All hands to strap in, all hands strap in for turn!” The crewman on the bridge announced, “Beginning maneuvers now!” Crusader could see the general outline of the plan, “Gerald, this is a very unusual..” He was cut off as the countdown commenced. “Turning in five...” “Did I ever tell you my father didn’t want me to be in Bolo Command?” “No.” “In four...” “Yeah, he wanted me in the family business. I just wasn’t that into it really, kind of a disappointment to him.” “I fail to see..” “In three...” “Just couldn’t learn the job, you know? Remember that Crusader, everything is about timing.” “Yes, sir. But..” “Two...” “Mind on the goal here Crusader, we’re going to win this one!” “Yes sir!” “One!” The big Bolo transport turned, wasting momentum but giving Crusader what he needed for the shot. His cores were running smoothly as the Melconian ship came in sight, he fired, the recoil not half as bad as a full powered war shot, but he felt it all the same. On target, on time, perfect! The crew was cheering through the intercom as Captain Creedy leapt into the air. “YES!” The bridge crew came through the comm, “They’re turning, they’re turning, flipping end over end! We’ve got the lead!” They had their room, the enemy would never catch up now and the CBTS Kubrick could slingshot away from the sun. Concordiat Battleships would be waiting to take care of their pursuer. The cheering was ringing throughout the ship as Crusader watched his officer relax in the chair. He took the time to replay what had happened. But he did have a question. “Sir?” Creedy turned, “Wha..Yes, Crusader?” “The family business?” The officer laughed, “Oh that!” Crusader saw it again along with his officer, a main Hellbore packed tight, ready to be fired at half power from a Cryo-H explosion that he would trigger with the ignition lasers, a simple enough thing. Once again the turn of the ship, the prow of the Melconian Dreadnought coming into sight.. “He was really disappointed, but what could he do?” The rocking of his hull as the Hellbore fired, expelling tons of hastily gathered inventory into space near the corona of the hot sun. “He said it was okay, not everyone was cut out for it.” A shrug, a rueful smile crossing his features, “So I went into Bolo Command, earned my bars and the rest is history.” The shot was perfect, hitting the enemy and making them have to flip end over end to use aft sensors, giving the Kubrick time to escape. It was a one in a million. “But sir, what did..” “What did my father do?” Eyes with a glint of humor watched the replay over and over, his laughter getting louder. The heat from the sun, acting upon an item that was meant for the airlessness of barren planets made it expand, bubbling outward into a titanic flattened shape. Gerald Creedy watched it all again. The construction adhesive ‘pie’ shot from a Hellbore with meticulous timing, slapping into the ‘face’ of the Melconian Dreadnought. “He was a circus clown, Crusader." ----- I don’t believe I’ve heard laughter that loud or long before in all my centuries. Even Athena is having a hard time communicating over the commlinks. So, in deference to her wants, I continue reaching back along those many years past. ----- I remember because it is part of a battle recording, so many things are lost, but some remain. The battle had been unrelenting for days, myself and a companion Bolo had pressed the Deng to where they could no longer retreat. Destroying their troop ships and then their infantry in turn. The land was silent now as we awaited pickup. The Bolo Transport Ships on their way as we surveyed the skies, looking for more enemies. Lieutenant Gordon was new to the service, I had been on duty for a little more than three-quarters of a century now. “Crusader?” Her voice was low, she never raised it except in joy, or even anger once or twice. “Yes, Lieutenant?” Her booted feet were propped up on the console, camoflauge uniform blending with the decks colors as she leaned back in the chair, “Do you dream?” “I am afraid I do not follow Lieutenant.” She rolled her eyes, exhaling in an exasperated gasp, “Do you dream? You know, when you go to Low Level Alert, or Standby. Do you dream?” “We do not Lieutenant.” “So..what happens?” I pondered that for a full .00032 seconds, “Nothing Lieutenant, we are..on standby.” “You don’t have..like.. dreams of beautiful things? Or even just pictures or something?” “No, Lieutenant.” “That’s sad.” “Why is that?” Now she had peaked my curiosity. Booted feet hit the deck with a ringing sound as she stood, her trim body pacing the deck with hands planted firmly in pockets, “Because you Bolos deserve it. You are so powerful, so unrelenting. Don’t you deserve something peaceful?” Her face turned to look directly into a security camera. “I am afraid it has not been something I have wondered about Lieutenant.” “You should!” She leaned back against a small refrigerator, for drinks when an officer could not leave the command area in battle, “You’re intelligent, you’re aware, you deserve to dream.” The conversation was interesting, bringing in my companion Bolo as well, connecting through whisker laser as he had been wondering why I was silent. “Perhaps we do not have the correct programming Lieutenant.” Once again that sigh of exasperation from her, “You’re alive Crusader, alive as can be.” “There are some who would beg to differ, Lieutenant.” “Well...well... Phooey on them!” I am amused at this. “Phooey, Lieutenant?” “Yes, phooey!” A finger is pointed steadily at a camera, “Don’t you dare make fun of me!” “Never, Lieutenant.” She was eyeing my camera for a long moment, making sure I was not mocking her. “I think...” “Yes, Lieutenant?” I see the faraway look in her eyes as she slowly settles back in the command chair, her legs lifting and planting boots on the console once more. Her hands go to rest behind her head as her voice is soft, but not so low that I cannot pick up her every word. “I think, one day you will dream, my friend. That one day you’ll get to see and understand another world beyond this.” Her eyes close as if she remembers, or perhaps sees something I do not, “You will see beautiful things Crusader. That there will be a peaceful place for you to visit and share with your kind, to let them know that life isn’t all war and horror.” Her eyes snap open with a sly smile, “And possibly even some fluffy bunnies as well!” Her laugh is infectious as we are both amused by her wandering thoughts. I remember Lieutenant Gordon in that moment well. Was she seeing something that would come true so far into the future, or was it just a simple wish for a friend? However it was, wherever you are Lieutenant, know that I have dreamed. And it was truly wondrous. ----- I see the smiles on Athena’s deck, and lose myself once again. ----- In trying to understand the human race, we ran into inconsistencies in many cases. Things that did not follow logic, or common sense, but because they felt it had to be done. We struggled with this for many years, AI’s in various Bolos exchanging stories and tales. But as we became closer to the race which had created us, we loved and respected them all the more for it. ----- An entire company of Bolos was landed upon this planet which was rapidly becoming a wasteland of war. It would be long before it was uninhabitable, but we were sent there with one mission. Destroy the enemy. We now knew who they were, the K’klk’K, the unknown race which had wiped an entire metropolitan area off a world before they were stopped. Arachnid, powerful, and numerous. They conquered for breeding space and food. Including humans. We landed hard, our null-gravs and aero-shells taking the brunt of it as we twelve roared into action. Drive trains slamming into place as we moved out at top speed from the remains of our disposable landing covers. Our treads gripped the loamy soil as we shot forward, not caring if the sensors of the enemy spotted us. For we were filled with rage and hate for the enemy, our Battle Reflex wide open, cores fully attuned to what we must do with a simple white-hot pinpoint of purpose. Engage the ones who would dare to trespass upon Concordiat soil and treat humans as if they were cattle. Bolo Command was very clear on this. There were to be no prisoners, nothing left of the enemy except dust and atoms. An example was to be made here and now, to all the alien races watching. That to invade the Concordiat was to make a mortal, and very fatal, error. To do this, we were ensconced in brand new war hulls. Heavy VLS systems newly equipped alongside mortars and ranks of Howitzers and Secondaries. Gleaming Hellbores of 200cm diameter, shipbreakers, swiveled back and forth on our hulls. Anti-Air lasers, infinite repeaters, Hyper-Velocity Rocket Launchers and more were sliding on their tracks alongside ablative armor and anti-personnel systems that would shred anything that got near us. We were the ones who had battled our way across a quarter of the galaxy. We were the most vicious and ruthlessly skilled killers that had ever trod a battlefield. We would show the enemy their mistake. ----- In the darkened skies, Task Force Twenty-One of the Concordiat Navy had brought everything to bear. Dreadnoughts and battleships lumbered through the gripping night, their own massive guns delivered broadsides that shattered space. The moons above were scarred and wasted by the crashing of enemy hulks, brought down by the swift cruisers and destroyers, hammered further by the fighters that swarmed like angry wasps from carriers. The enemy had it’s own ways of fighting, smashing Concordiat vessels with weapons of immense power. Their ships equipped with weaponry that slashed through battlescreens when they had the chance, scoring the miles long hulls of Concordiat ships. We were on our own, the battle would go for weeks if we were any judge of such things. We had enough supplies, enough wherewithal to do our job. An inverse V formation with myself at the lead as we closed upon the enemy. A particle beamed scored a dark furrow along my proud hull before I snapped on battle screens, advising my brethren to do the same in a flash communication of .000001 seconds. “Tally-ho!” “I am relatively sure at no time did that ancient and honorable legend, Arthur, King of the Britons, ever say that.” Ceasar’s voice was amused over the warbands. “It is my name, good sir, and should you doubt my actions, we shall have words on the field of honor!” Arthur’s voice was very posh, taking an aggrieved tone. “Hellbore’s at ten miles then?” Beauregard’s soft southern-inflected voice brought chuckles along the links. “I am sorry my friend, I do get carried away.” Arthur was sounding as if he regretted his words. “It is nothing Arthur, for are we not one in battle?” “Oh yes, very much so!” The musical sounds of Mielikki’s voice came clearly over the TSDS mesh. “Coming up on thirty mile limit, VLS systems online.” Crusader’s voice was telling them they are near the huge city that covered a good quarter of this landmass, “First strike is ordered, prepare for launch.” Acknowledgments came swiftly. “Fire!” VLS plates slapped open on each hull, ringing through the chilled air as hundreds upon hundreds of heavy cruise missiles lifted on tongues of flame. Tilting and then cracking the skies, they roared toward the enemy emplacements. The Bolos watched, testing the enemy’s resolve and their defenses by this action, seeing laser light slash through the night, picking off one or two here and there. “They do not have good Anti-Air.” “No, they do not. Scanning indicates non-fusion power supplies as well. A conundrum of their use of particle beams.” The weapons referred to took an enormous amount of power to use properly, meaning they were pumping it out at a tremendous rate. “Planetary defense has retired behind the line, we are facing only the enemy now.” “Good. Show them our wrath.” Main Hellbore turrets swiveled, alighting aiming lasers on large unknown enemy constructs. War shots triggered, then compressed in the huge barrels as magnetic fields squeezed it tight, forming it into coalescent beams that split the atmosphere with sound and fury. The enemy died in droves. Always they were closing, pressing forward, plowing through low hills as if they did not exist. The titanic war machines thundered across the landscape, heading for the city which teemed with millions of the enemy. The enemy bred fast, creating warriors which swarmed over the defenseless cities, rounding humans and anything else living up to be slaughtered for sustenance. At twenty miles they leveled more emplacements, the Hellbores and all remaining weapons were in full use. Howitzers pummeled enemy machines. Hyper-V rockets sped their payloads of death quicker than the blink of an eye. Lasers slashed and tore through the teeming black shapes, tearing them into shreds as canister shot roared out from anti-personnel packages, dicing the arachnids where they stood. Ion bolt infinite repeaters replaced barrels as fast as they used them up, spitting starcore hot death at the enemy. And they kept coming, the multitudinous hordes of the enemy seeming never-ending. That was fine. Our anger at their atrocities had only stoked the fires inside us. We meshed deeply, our minds becoming one as we worked our way toward the edifices of the city that was our first objective. Ten miles out. Hellbores split the air over and over, the beams reaching and tearing through skyscrapers as if they were paper from that distance. The falling buildings crushing the enemy below, reducing their effectiveness in defense. Mortar rounds pounded out from our hulls, rapidly firing explosive canisters which shredded anything near when the twenty centimeter round landed on an enemy hole or shelter. Our weapons left nothing but dust and scraps behind us as we marched on, pouring fire into the enemy. It was impossible to believe that they would continue to resist us, but resist they did to their detriment. We slaughtered them in the thousands with every shot of our main guns. Our secondaries mowing them down like wheat in a field and still they came. We entered the city proper now, our treads crunching enemy bodies, pulverizing them into the concrete and pavement. Bones of Concordiat citizens littered the wasteland, remains of meals past which only heightened our resolve. We leveled the area around us, toppling skyscrapers that reached thousands of meters into the air, with one blow they were falling remains which crushed the arachnids beneath. Our fury would have put legends to shame as we raked the arachnids, put them down with the mercilessness only we could muster. We killed, and killed... “STOP! Cease fire!” The command rang through even our battle-lust as we halted in place, weapons glowing as we ceased all firing immediately. A fortunate lull in the battle allowed us to do so while scanning for more threats. Comm-units linked up, Crusader’s commander was pointing, “Do you see them?” Mielikki’s officer nodded, “I’ve got them, we must’ve missed them on the drone scan, get suited, we’re going out!” Crusader watched his commander dress quickly in battle dress, the armor thick and protective, grabbing a power gun out of the armory and checking the load. “I do not advise this commander, there are still many of the enemy around us.” She looked into the camera, he couldn’t place a name to her but her eyes shone with an emotion he almost knew, “I have to Crusader, they’re survivors. We missed them on the scans and now we’re on top of them. If we move we’ll crush them.” She slipped into the emergency escape hatch, sliding down and landing underneath the mountainous hull. “She is correct. Our combined tonnage will crush the survivors if we even think about moving.” Sekhmet’s voice was worried, watching her own officer outside, running for the spot where the scans showed huddled bodies emanating warmth. She was beside him in formation along with Beauregard and Caesar. “Mielikki, you and Hathor are outliers, can you close the gap behind us? We’ll circle the wagons.” Beauregard was running tactical scenarios now, the next wave of the enemy was due any second from our drone views. “We can!” Her hull moved very carefully for a Bolo, picking its way alongside the buildings with great care, the wings of the V slowly closing the rearward gap then stopping. “We’re in place! Let ‘em come!” “Mielikki, I am sorry, but your wonderful voice does not do well trying to sound vicious.” Caesar’s bass tones boomed through the warbands. “Oh shush!” A chuckle from all the Units as they watched their officers picking away at a heap of rubble beneath one of Crusader’s treads, one link alone towered over them, knowing that if he moved, they would die. “Scans are showing massed enemy movement, there is not much time.” Crusader’s voice was sounding concerned, as were they all. The humans began digging into the rubble faster. “I know, I know! Look..hold them off, do what you can, we’re close!” “We’ve got to set charges, there’s too much to dig.” Mielikki’s commander was already placing breaching explosives, “We’ll have to take the chance.” “Alright! Everyone move! Back behind the tread!” The twelve Bolo officers scrambled for cover, setting the charges off immediately and running back out. “That’s it! Dig!” Entrenching tools popped out, the digging resumed as debris and chunks of masonry were thrown out of the hole in a desperate attempt. “I see one! I see one!” Beauregard’s officer was reaching down, pulling up a small figure. Children. Hadrian‘s voice was loud on the link, “We are out of time. The enemy is upon us.” Hathor’s commander came on the commlink, “You do what you can but keep them off our backs! We’re almost done!” “Acknowledged.” “We stand. Anti-Personnel weapons only, be mindful of targets and angles.” Twelve Bolos exchanged tactical data over the TSDS linkages. The enemy was spotted coming over the rubble in waves as black as night. This did not matter. They would crest the debris fields surrounding the ring of machines in approximately ten seconds. Ports slammed open, rotating cannon and miniguns appeared to bristle outwards from the hulls. Miniguns was truly a misnomer when firing 20mm shells at the rate of thousands a minute. The circle of war machines stood quiet sentinel over the struggling officers who were grabbing the last of the children out of the hole they had sheltered in, when it became too late to hold their weapons back. “Fire.” Chain feeds screamed out as they fed ammunition to the weapons aligned along the silent hulls. The shrill song would have told the enemy they headed to their doom, but it was either ignored or not heard at all. As they crested the mountains of debris around the Bolos, the long-legged shapes were met with walls of ring penetrators, explosive shell and canister shot that blew them into oblivion. Death reaped a bloody harvest that day. The officers heard the feeds start up, looking above them as fire erupted in the silence, blossoms of death penetrated even their visors as the Bolos poured everything they had into keeping the enemy off them. Tracers and plasma shots traveled mere inches above their heads as they clambered through the rubble. They trusted their AI companions implicitly, to do otherwise was to lose your mind in a gibbering fear that would lead to you making a mistake and ending your own life. Nanosecond by nanosecond, femtoseconds and less, each shot was carefully aimed by the powerful tactical cores of the Bolos, covering their officers with a shield of instant death should an arachnid come near. The soldiers turned and fired, catching a glimpse of the enemy as the forms overwhelmed even the shield of flame that was coming from the war machines. The flood of darkness was closing the ring tighter and tighter. Return fire coming from the weapons held in legs that scuttled across the crumbling remains of buildings and a once proud city. I am ordered to drop my ramp, seeing them scramble inside and pushing the children forward to land exhausted on the bay floor. They are not without wounds, some deep and painful. But they are smiling, they are joyful and glad to be alive. A face looks into my cameras and yells out over the din of our barrage. “Let them have it!” The enemy had become overconfident, seeing us halted and using only minor weapons. Perhaps they thought we had run out of ammunition? Maybe they surmised we were just being foolish. I had asked, we all had of our officers, why they had gone out to rescue those children, risking lives to do so. We were shamed at the answer. Our anger, our hate for the enemy overriding us and almost leading into being lost within battle lust. Our turrets snapped around, blurs of metal that pointed outward in a ring as every weapon we had came to bear on the masses of the enemy which actually hesitated in their charge. Knowing at that very second, beyond a doubt, that they had walked into their doom. They had told us with no hesitation, each officer in their own words which stayed with us forever. The enemy were wiped away in an eyeblink, by nuclear fire and coherent light, by shot and shell and plasma’s fury. The answer? Because to save one life, to rescue one person, to do that which is good not because of logic or reason, but because it is right. We still had so much to learn. ----- It is getting into the late afternoon now, as I have been lost in remembrance. The others have disconnected and left Athena’s hull, even Athena herself. But that is fine as I sit here. One last memory comes to me as I watch the setting sun.. ----- A form sits on my sensor island, a folding chair underneath it as legs are stretched out upon its shape. A drink in one hand tells me she is enjoying the night time, the warm breeze that ruffles her hair. We are currently on picket duty, a battle record is kept of such at all times. Hence, this single memory. “Crusader?” “Yes, Lieutenant?” “What do you think of at night?” “I am usually on Standby Lieutenant, we have had this discussion.” “This is different.” A hand is idly waved at one of my sensors. “Nothing, Lieutenant. We rest.” “When you’re not on Standby, don’t you wonder about the night time? The sunsets and the dawn?” I think on this, sensors and scanners show me the planet we are on, the multiple spectra of various suns near us and far beyond. I see the world surrounding us as data to be stored and used. “I.. do not Lieutenant.” “You should!” A hand is flung upward, finger pointing to a class K sun, just over the horizon, “First star to the left and on ‘till morning!” “I fail to see the correlation Lieutenant.” “That’s because you have no sense of ..of.. imagination!” She got up from the lounge chair, leaning against the rail and looking over the silent landscape, “You have to wonder, Crusader, at all the possibilities out there. The night time, full of spooky things, or mysterious things, things to make you gasp in delight! All those things!” “We have no time to wonder.” A hand hit the durasteel railing in exasperation, making her straighten, “You are so single-minded!” “We must be, to do what we were made for.” A sip of her drink, the leaning on the rail once more, a hand slowly drawn over the pretty face. “Think of...Halloween! When ghosts and other creepy things supposedly roam the night! That the veil between worlds is thin and things come through. Doesn’t it make you wonder of the possibilities that they might be real?” “Ghosts have never been proven to be real Lieutenant. I am afraid it is all a product of wishful thinking or overactive imaginations.” “That’s what you think. Let me tell you what I believe.” She doesn’t wait for my reply, but continues on. “The night time is a promise, that there’ll be another day, another dawn. It gives us the time to rest and wonder about things we don’t know, that we don’t understand.” She waves at the landscape, covered in the glow from multiple moons, “Don’t use reasoning or logic, just think about what could be out there. So much to discover and see and look at!” I ponder this for long milliseconds, trying to see it from her perspective and something inside me shifts, making me turn my cameras to look at the silent land, the silvery light. Gordon notices a few cameras angling away from her to look outward, “That’s it. Don’t try to explain it, just look.” I think of...possibilities. Things that had never occurred to me before. “When the sun rises Crusader, just enjoy it. Don’t look at it as data, but how marvelous it is. The sunsets, the night time, it all holds something that it takes a wondering mind to really see.” “So many things out there Crusader, and you’ll see them. Don’t let war get in the way of seeing things for the beauty they hold.” ----- As I watch the setting sun, I do see it. I can see the colors, fading as the fiery orb slowly makes its way below the horizon to let the night bring us more to ponder about. The bursting of the last rays of light, letting them slowly merge into the darkness which holds not just malevolence now to me. And I wonder. ----- I come out of my musings to see a shape sitting next to me. Quietly waiting, which is very odd for Pinkie, her eyes merry as always. “I apologize Pinkie. I did not realize anypony was here.” “That’s okay! Athena said you were kinda distracted. So I didn’t want to bother.” She looks at me fully, the smile that graces her face is kind, it is warm and gentle, never mocking. Her eyes look for the good, the silver lining. “She says I should not be so, remembering other times.” “Nah, memories are great. ” Her bubbly attitude and voice always shine through. “What can I do for you Pinkie?” “Oh, nothing much." A pink hoof is pressed against my shoulder gently, “Take a walk with me?” “I would like that.” We both slide off the bench, I follow her lead heading into the town proper. “So.. What were you remembering?” “Times when I learned from the ones who created us.” Her blue eyes glance at me, “Good or bad?” “Good, mostly. Though even the bad can teach us something.” She nods, “Memories are like gifts, it’s always fun opening them huh?” I can only agree. Sometimes she has insight that does make one think. Evening is always beautiful in Ponyville. The stars shine through a clear night sky, lanterns in windows and houses along with the glow from fireplaces make for a scene of warmth and coziness. It sometimes seems as if the years could pass by and this lovely place would never change. I do hope so. We round a corner, seeing a large group in the plaza before Sugar Cube Corner, a party. One of Pinkie’s specialties, it is in full bloom. I now know the reason she was absent today. But, my assumption is partially wrong. “Happy Birthday, Crusader.” I am the recipient of a very warm hug and a kiss on my cheek from Pinkie who leads me into the plaza. “But..I am not sure when....” My objection is stopped by a raised eyebrow. “Athena worked it out. Said she kinda fudged the dates, but it’s pretty close.” She tugs me into the crowd where I am given warm wishes and congratulations. Pinkie is smiling, she has every right to be. Her ability to pull things off on the last moment is well-known, but having a whole day. This is truly spectacular. Glittering decorations hang from every eave, balcony and window nearby, surrounding the plaza with shining wonder. Magical orbs of light are suspended in the air, giving off soft colored glows that only reflect off them, painting the plaza in a myriad of soft shades. There are covered tables set out, some where ponies are dining, some with just food upon them. Selections of hors d’oeuvres, candies and other things are set upon plates and platters. Piles of fine chocolates in designs to make you smile are scattered as centerpieces on each one. Bon Bon must have worked very hard today as I see her smiling wearily. Warming stands with chafing dishes piled high with delectable delights are everywhere as well, making sure no one goes the slightest bit hungry. There are booths with games and prizes, delighting little ones and adults, offering them for free. The laughter is infectious as I watch Lyra trying to toss a bit into a milk bottle without magic. A dart game is being argued over by the Guards ponies, debating who won. Pinkie has not done one cake, but a plethora of them. Each different and covered in frosting of many tastes and textures, scattered around with bowls of crystal for punch and cider. Berry Punch has produced a selection of wines that are being sampled by various ponies, she is truly an artist. I see Octavia providing music with Vinyl, both of them working together to produce a wonderful selection for the ears. Pinkie whispers to me as I gaze at the magical sight. “It was Lyra’s birthday too, and a couple others. They didn’t mind sharing it with you.” I can only nod. Looking at the happy faces, the gamboling little ones. It’s such an idyllic scene. The night is alive with ponies in their myriad colors and shapes, all in a surrounding that can only bring forth happiness. “Happy birthday.” I look around, seeing Athena running towards me. Ending with a skid and a tight hug. “Fudged the dates?” She looks warmly at me, “Just a little, but it’s pretty close to your awakening date on old Earth.” “I-- Have never had a birthday.” “I know, and I think it’s about time.” “There are no words for this.” “Then that is the best compliment, ever.” We switch back to talking out loud, not wanting to leave anyone out of the conversation. “Thank you, Pinkie.” She grins, “They kinda figured you’d get a little distracted, had the whole day to plan. What can’t I do!” She sweeps a hoof around, encompassing the area. It is not pride, nor misplaced hubris, it is simply fact. What she can do in a day is simply amazing. We watch her bounce off to attend to tables, making sure ponies are having fun. It simply wouldn’t do for a frown to be near one of Pinkie’s to-do’s. “Maybe you should start laying down new memories to think of, instead of the past?” Athena’s voice is quiet as we both see the rest of our friends getting nearer. “It is all I have, Athena.” “Time for some new ones.” Her voice is gentle on the warbands as it echoes her voice, “It’s far past time.” I see our friends coming near, smiles on faces with warm expressions. Mugs of foamy cider are held and it appears an extra two floating in the grip of magic are for myself and Athena. Thinking on this, I open a new datacore. One that has been rebuilt after so long, replacing the blasted remains of one of a few lost in the fight not so long ago. It is placid, calm, like an empty pool waiting to be filled. I accept a mug, along with Athena, and a toast is given by Twilight. “Happy Birthday Crusader! And many more!” Laughter swiftly follows with tales told of my past problems adapting to a society so unlike the Concordiat. Never are they given in the wrong way, only for a chance to garner more merriment. And as I look upon these faces of myriad colors, the eyes bright and shining I realize Athena is right. I begin the datastreams and proceed to forever remember these times, and hopefully many more to come. Like Pinkie said, they are like gifts. Ones I wish to open many times in the future.