With Canterlot secure, the pony search teams had been able to explore the surrounding area, and had located quite significant numbers of civilians who had fled into the mountains, foothills and woods after the invasion. They were finally able to return to their homes, just as their princess had. Most of the nobility and high society had been among the first to leave, and thus were nowhere to be found, many having fled to Las Pegasus or Manehattan, the other noted hangouts of the rich and famous. Las Pegasus remained a safe haven, but the metropolis of Manehattan had fallen under the sway of the enemy. Celestia had decided, and Lord-General Galen had agreed, that its recapture should be the focus of the next main thrust of the 'allied' forces.
Manehattan sat on the northeastern coast of the main continent, well to the north of the plains where the falling cruiser had wreaked still-unknown devastation on the scattered fishing villages during the initial space battle. An important deep-water port, Manehattan saw plentiful trade with the Zebras across the water, bringing the large steamships and older three-masted clippers to dock along its waterfront warehouse district, where crates and barrels were stacked twenty-high and sailors cavorted freely with 'mares of the night' in the back alley brothels. The harbour was also home to a small naval detachment of coastal gunboats of the Royal Equestrian Navy, which were mostly used for smuggling interdiction, and for dockside firefighting in conjunction with the fireboats and pony-drawn engines of the city's fire department.
Further inland lay the financial heart of Equestria, home of the stock exchanges, banks, and the headquarters of many large companies. As the myth went, the streets there were paved with bits- not true, but certainly the area was awash with money. Many executives and celebrities who did not live in the city outright had second homes there, either large apartments or substantial townhouses out in the suburbs, which sprawled lazily around the bustling central business district and harbour. Much of the outer reaches were dominated by factories, warehouses and foundries that manufactured much of the infrastructure used by not just the city, but Equestria as a whole- engines, locomotives, rail track, horseshoes, wagons, guns, chemicals, rope, barrels, and a thousand other things that were vital for the modern Equestrian society to function.
The city was by far the largest in the country, more than double the size and population of Fillydelphia and Baltimare combined. Its size would make its capture against a dug-in enemy force a potential meat grinder, but it could, potentially, be surrounded and besieged. A naval blockade of the harbour would not need to be imposed, Galen had stated, both because there was no indication of the enemy having made landings on any of the smaller continents or islands, and also because Imperial aircraft could perform the same task, along with long-range artillery positioned around the bay. Some of the suburban areas of the city would need to be captured and occupied to complete the siege, he had warned, which both Celestia and Shining Armour had agreed with. Further orbital and aerial reconnaissance would be conducted, along with bombing raids on confirmed enemy artillery and HQ positions.
Preparations were already underway, Galen stated, to move large numbers of forces, from the west and to the east, using the northern end of the central valley as a shortcut. A large mechanised force of regimental strength would be pushed through, followed by motorised infantry and towed artillery. As the force approached the western edge of Manehattan, a diversionary airborne raid would be carried out by dropship on the town of Mareston, some twenty miles north and also occupied by the enemy, in the hopes of drawing away some of the defenders from the outskirts. No significant enemy contact was expected between the valley and the city. The plan was set in motion.
Like most plans, however, it soon went awry.
Twilight went to see Celestia again the day after her breakdown. She had had the chance to spend most of the night pondering over what she had seen and what she had said, and felt somewhat better about herself than she had before she finally found sleep. She wanted to apologise to the princess for speaking out of turn, and to let her know that the support of the Elements could be relied upon without any question. She had spoken to her friends, though not said anything of what she had witnessed in the courtyard. The voices of the enemy, whispering in her mind, convinced her more and more that Celestia's choice had been the correct one.
In the throne room, Celestia had been deep in conversation with a Captain of the 2nd Pegasi Assault Division. Seeing Twilight's arrival, Celestia dismissed the officer, who turned on her hooves after a crisp salute and departed.
'Twilight, come,' Celestia spoke. 'Did you sleep?' she asked.
'A little...' Twilight replied with a small nod, trotting over to the throne. 'It was hard, but...a little.'
'Well, I have just this moment received news that will cheer you,' Celestia gave a warm smile. 'As you know, I had Pegasi patrols dispatched to scout the surrounding area for survivors. Several groups have been located, including a large number of civilians hiding in the Caves of Clover. Your parents were among them.' Celestia paused for a moment to let the news sink in, and Twilight's face quickly broke into a broad grin, accompanied by more tears, though of joy this time.
'O-oh...! They're alright? Oh, thank goodness...thank Celest...uh...thank goodness!' Celestia chuckled a little.
'They are unhurt. The survivors are being brought here now via airship. You will be reunited with them soon,' she informed her. Twilight was overwhelmed with the news, the first positive thing she had heard since the invasion. But she still remembered why she had come to see Celestia.
'Thank you, princess...I wanted to apologise to you, for yesterday. I...' Celestia cut her off.
'Twilight, please, there is no need. I already told you yesterday that I admire your courage in standing up for what you thought was right. It is exactly the kind of thing I have been trying to instill in you all this time, and I was proud to see that my trust was not misplaced.'
'Sorry...' Twilight sighed. 'I just thought I should let you know that the Elements are all behind you one hundred percent. We're glad to be back in Canterlot, but...'
'But there is something on your mind?' Celestia asked. Twilight nodded.
'Yes, princess. We...want to go back to Ponyville,' Twilight explained. 'It's our home, our friends are there. Applejack's family is there. Are there any plans to retake the town?'
'At this precise time, our focus is on other tasks,' Celestia responded. 'We do not have the forces to spare retaking small towns. But I have already spoken to the Imperials about such matters. They say that their guns can reach Ponyville from here...an impressive range to be sure. Their spotters have confirmed enemy presence in the town, and they say they can start firing soon. The Imperial forces in the valley at present are just to hold the line and contain any enemies within, but their Lord-General tells me that as soon as they can assemble another force of sufficient size, they will begin retaking the valley. It may be a matter of days, perhaps a week. You must understand that this war is being fought on Imperial terms. Though I can...influence them, there is certainly no guarantee they will always listen. But I understand your concern for your friends. You have my word that Ponyville will be liberated as soon as possible.'
'Thank you, princess...' Twilight nodded and bowed her head. 'That's all we ask for. We know there's still a war going on. It's just hard for everypony. There's so much uncertainty about...well, about everything.'
'I know, Twilight,' Celestia replied. 'I am doing what I can, but there is still a great deal of confusion. We are not used to conducting a war at this speed, or on this scale. We still have received no word, no messengers from any number of cities, or from Zebrica, or Yakyakistan, or even from our own navy. I must admit that even though my own gaze turns outward every day, even I had never seriously considered the possibility of an attack from beyond the stars.'
'Nopony could have, your highness,' Twilight replied. 'Until these humans came, we had no possible way of knowing there was life out there. It was just restricted to comic books and stuff like that. I used to be fascinated by those stories...I guess that's part of what got me interested in astronomy. I hoped to be the one to see the aliens coming. And...I guess I did.'
'Indeed you did, my faithful student. It was most perceptive of you,' Celestia offered her a smile. 'But again the point is made. Although you sent me a message about your sighting, before we could even meet in person, the humans had landed. They move faster than us. Their vehicles move at a gallop, their aircraft outpace even the fastest airship by leaps and bounds, and their starships...they must move at astronomically fast speeds to cross a galaxy, if what they say is true. It seems that we have little reason to doubt their veracity on that point. Their technology is impossibly superior to ours, but we still have our magic, and it seems to me that magic is something they fear.'
'These humans fear something?' Twilight asked, cocking her head.
'I believe so. At the very least they are distrustful of magic,' Celestia replied. 'Whether that is because they do not understand it or because they know it and fear its potential, I am unsure. I felt it especially aboard their starship. The Lord-General and Lord-Admiral were rather disbelieving of my control over the sun until I demonstrated it to them. Then they seemed uneasy, for the obvious reason of the potential threat to their fleet, but I felt something more from them. I think they have an almost fundamental aversion to magic. I have not probed too deeply as to their exposure to it, but we have not seen any evidence of the Imperials making use of magic of their own. It may be that they possess none, which would explain their fear. It is also possible that whatever the enemy used that caused that storm in space, could be magic-related. If their enemy uses magic, that would also explain their fear of it.'
Twilight nodded as she listened to the princess. 'It would, yes...but perhaps that is why they came here.'
'I do not think it is why the Imperials arrived,' Celestia replied. 'But I fear it may be why the enemy came here. I just hope that whatever they want is now beyond their reach.'
The mechanised might of the Stourmont 2nd Armoured Regiment swept across the grasslands. Stormclouds gathered overhead, with a fair drizzle falling and a few distant flashes of lightning visible. East of the Foal Mountains, Equestria opened out much as it did to the west, with fertile plains heading toward the coast. It was perfect tank country.
Perfect for Captain Mayner and his crew. The gently sweeping plains were little obstacle to their Leman Russ Vanquisher. Outfitted with a specialised anti-armour, long-barreled Vanquisher cannon, a hull-mounted lascannon, and two sponsons fitted with plasma cannons, Mayner's charge, 'Big Beautiful Doll,' was a dedicated tank killer. Mayner was commander of the 1st Tank Company, 1st Battalion, 1st Brigade, 2nd Stourmont Armoured; the tip of the spear, the pride of the Regiment. All of his crew were dedicated veterans of many years service. The driver, Barnes, the gunner, Cheyne, the loader, Janssen, and the sponson gunners, Welks and Farber, all had survived countless battles, all had numerous medals, and numerous scars to match. The most experienced crew in the most experienced company in the most experienced battalion, Mayner and his team were, as was expected, at the very front of the advance.
The Regiment was moving across the plains that opened out toward the Xenos city of Manehattan, five hundred tanks able to race at high speed over the smooth ground. Behind them came the Stourmont's 9th Mechanised Infantry Regiment, a similar number of Chimera fighting vehicles carrying thousands of men, mixed with Hydra flak guns, a few Hellhound flamethrower vehicles, and some other specialised vehicles. Salamander scout cars ranged ahead of the main force, looking for contacts, while Vulture gunships kept station overhead. The armoured fist of the Imperium was going to war.
Mayner slipped back down into the turret from the hatch where he had been looking out across the plains. The interior of the tank was cramped, more so than a normal Leman Russ thanks to the larger breech mechanism of the Vanquisher cannon. His gunner, Cheyne, perched expectantly, ready for action anytime, her muscular arms and torso glistening with sweat. Tank combat was hot work at the best of times. Heat from the engine, the turret mechanism, exhaust from the weaponry, body heat from the crew, all contained within a metal chamber a few feet in diameter. Whenever possible, the hatches were left open to try and get some circulation going through the vehicle, but in combat, the tank had to be buttoned up, with all but the most foolhardy or prideful tank commanders closing even their precious turret hatch. It gave them vision, but it made them a target, and worse, especially in urban combat, it gave the enemy an opening through which they could shoot or throw grenades.
But there was no threat from enemy infantry, and they were not in the city yet, and so Big Beautiful Doll drove hard to the east with its turret, sponson and drivers' hatches open. Barnes drove the tank while peeking out, hardy goggles and a hardy, weatherbeaten face helping to keep the tank on track. When Mayner had last glanced back, he had seen a vast dust cloud hanging in their air behind their formation, a sure sign of their passage to anyone who happened to be looking.
Janssen, the loader, offered his commander a cigarette. Mayner accepted with a simple nod, and Cheyne reached over with her lighter. No words needed to be exchanged between a crew of such experience and shared peril. Mayner took a drag, the smoke adding to the fug and heat within the tank. He had no doubts that his crew were ready for combat should it become necessary. After a few moments he lifted himself back up through the hatch, shielding his cigarette from the wind as he looked around.
Everywhere, a mass of metal pressed on towards the target. Manehattan, this Xenos city, a manufactory hub, a port, the financial capital, the largest city on the planet.
It has it all, apparently, Mayner mused to himself. The briefing had made the city sound as if an Imperial hive city had been flattened and spread out across a few hundred square miles of land instead of climbing tens of thousands of feet into the sky. Mayner and his crew had had a minimum of interaction with the local inhabitants since landing, but what he had seen had left him feeling that assisting such creatures was rather beneath his crew. Defeating the Archenemy, however, was not.
'Cobalt One to all units, Cobalt One to all units. Be advised, air cover advises large dust cloud to the east, approximately thirty miles, leaving the city. Possible enemy contacts. All units are to adopt combat posture.' Mayner's headset vox suddenly came to life with a message from the Regimental command company. Enemy contacts? No matter. They would surely be swept aside. Mayner ducked back down into the tank, slamming the turret hatch closed and securing it.
'Combat posture, boys and girls!' he ordered. The crew leapt into action, closing and locking all hatches, sealing the vehicle and pressuring the chemical protection system, arming and loading all weapons. Mayner brought up his thermoscope viewer and peered through. The land ahead appeared all green through it, no sign of anything yet. Another vox message reiterated the potential threat, confirmed a few moments later by an urgent report from one of the Salamander scouts.
'Cobalt One, Cobalt One, this is Scout Platoon Six. We have visual on large enemy armoured force, I say again, large enemy armoured force. Count minimum of regimental strength. Scanners indicate minimum of eight hundred, I say again, eight zero zero, armoured vehicles, type unknown. Scout Platoon Six is withdrawing, out.'
Mayner exchanged a brief glance with Janssen and Cheyne. It seemed like they might be entering combat sooner than they had expected. More vox messages quickly confirmed that battle was about to be joined. The enemy were sallying out to meet them head-on.
'Cobalt One to all units. Air cover reports enemy air contacts. Diverting to engage.'
'Cobalt One to all units, air cover reports large enemy armoured formation is confirmed.'
'Cobalt One to all units, orbital command reports they are unable to engage enemy targets due to the storm front.'
The best laid plans...
'Whatever happens, you can always rely on the weather to ruin everything,' Cheyne commented with a grunt of irritation. 'Who planned this op? Didn't they account for weather delays?'
'Easy, tiger,' Mayner responded. 'I guess they figured the Stourmont enjoy a little rain. Might just give us an advantage, huh?' He chuckled, getting a similar response from the crew. Their home planet was renowned for its almost interminable rainfall, and their troops received better practice than most at fighting in wet or stormy conditions. Though conditions were bad enough to prevent the ships in orbit from achieving firing solutions on the enemy, there were still sufficient minimums for the Vulture escorts, also drawn from Stourmont troops, to fight, and they swooped into the attack. Their Hellstrike missiles blazed trails across the overcast, knocking out a number of enemy tanks. But they were met suddenly by a torrent of anti-aircraft fire from Hydra and other similar vehicles, filling the sky with shrapnel, bringing down half a dozen of the gunships. To make matters worse, the enemy aircraft were upon them, the shoal of interceptors bringing down several more of the escorts. The urgent call went out for air support.
It was with them almost immediately, three squadrons of Lightning fighters, swooping down from the overwatch pattern they had been flying, high above the storm system. They destroyed three of the enemy interceptors in a heartbeat, but then a confusing, swirling melee began in the skies above, as both sides came into contact, gun, laser and missile all playing their part in the aerial ballet. On the ground, a similar battle was about to be joined between the two armoured forces, set to collide on the rain-sodden plains of eastern Equestria.
Mayner peered through his thermoscope. The precipitation was getting heavier as the Imperial force moved under the stormclouds. His vision was limited, but he could see the ridgeline ahead formed by the low hillocks of the grasslands. Their air support was in contact, something he could do nothing about. What he could do something about, given half a chance, was the enemy armour reported to be ahead of them.
'Load armour piercing,' he ordered, and Janssen opened the breach, picked up a blue-capped shell, and rammed it home, closing the breach again.
'Up!' he confirmed. Cheyne scanned the ground ahead through her targeting scopes, as Mayner did the same. The headset vox came on again.
'Cobalt One to Cobalt Alpha One.' Command calling Mayner. 'Be advised, enemy armour reported to be approximately six miles to your front. You are cleared to engage, over.' Mayner keyed his throat mike to reply.
'Cobalt Alpha One actual, Cobalt One, copy. The Emperor Protects.'
Mayner issued more orders, both to his crew and to the rest of his company. The fifteen tanks of the 1st Company were spread out in an echelon formation, with other companies closeby alongside and to the rear. At least fifty Imperial tanks were heading for the ridge and would reach it at roughly the same time.
'Cobalt Alpha One actual to all Alpha One vehicles. Standby to halt and engage enemy armour on my signal,' Mayner ordered. The tanks continued to drive for the low ridgeline, tracks churning up the increasingly wet ground as they began to climb the slight incline, rain pattering off of the metal skin. Mayner keyed his mike again.
'Cobalt Alpha One actual. Halt, halt, halt,' he ordered. 'Stay hull down and engage at will.' He looked through his thermoscope again as Big Beautiful Doll slowed to a jerky halt, remaining just behind the crest of the ridge in a hull down position, with only the turret exposed over the top of the hillock. The rain made it hard to see in normal vision, but the thermoscope displayed a clear enough image that sent a quick thrill down his spine.
White blobs indicated enemy vehicles, tanks charging across the plains. Dozens...no, hundreds of them, though the ones to the rear merged into an amorphous mass as the thermoscope didn't have a particularly long range and its definition worsened the farther away targets were.
'Son of a bitch...' Cheyne grunted beside him, peering through her own scopes.
No time to waste...
'Target, enemy tank, twelve o'clock! Fire!' Mayner ordered. The long-barreled Vanquisher cannon didn't need to traverse to engage, and Cheyne pressed the firing stud. The cannon bucked and sent a heavy round screaming across the plains. It smashed straight through the frontal armour of the target vehicle, the shaped-charge warhead filling the interior with a spray of molten copper and a cloud of metal shards, spalling from the vehicle's interior. The tank slowed and came to a halt, the crew shredded inside. The rest of the 1st Company were firing as well, and several plumes of hot smoke became visible on Mayner's thermoscope.
'Load armour piercing!' he ordered again, unnecessarily as Janssen had already grabbed another shell and slammed it home. 'Target enemy tank, eleven o'clock. Fire!'
The enemy tanks were everywhere in his scope. The cannon roared again and one of them exploded violently. The crew compartment of Big Beautiful Doll was already filling with cordite fumes from the cannon, as Janssen opened the breach again and loaded another shell. With the company lining up along with tanks from other units along the ridge, the enemy were taking losses, but they were returning fire.
Mayner, as lead company commander, was waiting for the second wave of Imperial tanks to reach themand push beyond the ridgeline in a pincer move. Standard tactics for the Regiment when operating in similar terrain was for the lead units to halt whenever possible at a topographical feature, the ridge in this case, and form a firing line. The second wave of tanks would then split left and right and flow around the first wave, enveloping the enemy who would be either charging toward, or halting to engage, the 'anvil' formed by the first line. Outflanked, the enemy would turn to face the new threat, allowing the first wave of Imperial tanks to push up through the now-distracted middle and complete the destruction of the enemy force. At least, that was the theory, carried out thousands of times by hundreds of armoured units across countless worlds. But very few plans ever survived contact with the enemy.
The force of Leman Russ tanks pushing up on the left flank found themselves entering unexpectedly boggy terrain. The idea had not been to have to engage an enemy armoured force on the plains. It was expected that the Chaos forces would most likely remain in place and continue to occupy the city, rather than riding out to meet their would-be besiegers. The left flank found that the ground in many places would not support their tanks, whose tracks sank into the mud under the hefty bulk they were carrying. While in most cases the wide track and relatively low ground pressure of the Leman Russ was enough to carry the tank through, their progress was heavily slowed, with a few tanks becoming completely immobilised by the sticky terrain. The unencumbered right flank raced out ahead onto the flat ground, turrets traversing and gyrostablised cannons firing. The enemy had to fight on two fronts, but it was supposed to be fighting on three.
'Fire!' Mayner shouted again. Another shell left the barrel and struck the glacis plate of one of the enemy tanks that was still engaging the Imperial's first wave. Several friendly tanks were knocked out, plumes of smoke rising into the wet sky. Being in a hull down position meant that most of the Imperial tanks were protected from enemy fire with only the turret exposed, but it also meant their own sponson and hull-mounted weaponry could not be brought into play, limiting their firepower somewhat. Other companies were already taking the initiative and moving forward over the ridge, hoping the enemy was distracted enough by the flanking manoeuvre. But only one prong of the pincer was in play, reports from the left flank indicating the tanks there were struggling to get through, and Mayner was reluctant to expose his company fully before the extent of the problems that delay might cause had become fully known. As a result they held position, picking off targets as they exposed themselves from behind the folds and draws in the terrain. The Vanquisher cannon held less than two dozen rounds in storage, however, and sooner or later they would need to emerge from behind cover to continue the fight lest they expend all of their ammunition for the main gun.
'When are we getting into the fight, Captain?' Farber asked from the right sponson over the intercom, speaking for himself and for his symmetrical fellow in the port sponson, Welks. Their plasma cannons had sat idle since the start of the engagement.
'Soon, boys, soon,' Mayner replied. 'Those slackers over on the left flank are running behind schedule.' What worried him was that the majority of the enemy tanks were continuing on a direct course for them, having been able to divert sufficient forces to meet the one-sided flanking move. The left flank needed to get back on track or things could get messy.
A loud bang reverberated around the tank, followed by the pattering of something on the hull. Mayner checked out the external viewer, panning it around and finding that the tank to their right was a mass of flame and smoke. The positive pressure ventilators of Big Beautiful Doll were preventing the smoke from being sucked into their fighting compartment, while at the same time helping to extract the fumes from the main gun. It did little to help with the heat, however, and that would only get worse once the lascannon and plasma cannons were brought into action.
Mayner returned his attention to his thermoscope. Enemy tanks were still closing, some getting inside one mile out, pushing hard for the ridgeline. There was still no sign of the left flank, and urgent vox messages suggested that the right flank units were struggling to cope with the increased attentions of the enemy. Another shout went up warning of incoming enemy aircraft, just to add to the confusion.
What happened to our fighters? Mayner wondered. He switched vox channels.
'Cobalt Alpha One actual to all Alpha One vehicles. Advance, advance, advance. Engage at will,' Mayner ordered. His other thirteen surviving tanks responded in a rapid sequence of callsigns, engines whining and tracks clanking as they climbed over the ridge towards the enemy, following in the footsteps of several other companies that had already begun to move. If they did not act swiftly, the enemy would be upon them anyway, and they would lack flanking support if they did not assist their tanks out on the right.
Clearing the ridge, all the guns of Big Beautiful Doll came into play. Mayner issued rapid commands.
'Gunner! Tank, twelve o'clock, range fifteen hundred.'
'Identified!' Cheyne shouted.
'Fire!' Mayner ordered. The tank bucked.
'Driver, tank, twelve o'clock, range eighteen hundred.'
'Identified!' Barnes called.
'Fire!'
The lascannon flashed and an enemy tank erupted in flame.
'Sponsons, targets of opportunity, fire at will.'
'Port sponson, targets of opportunity, firing at will!' Welks reported.
'Starboard sponson, targets of opportunity, firing at will,' Farber added.
Mayner repeated half a dozen similar commands over the next ninety seconds as the Vanquisher roared into the fray alongside a hundred other tanks, guns flashing. The enemy thrust was blunted by the counter-push from the Imperial 'anvil,' but they were still advancing.
Finally some support was arriving on the Imperial's left flank. Half a dozen tanks had made it through the mud and emerged onto the plains, cutting through a small wooded area, felling trees like matchsticks and opening fire. The enemy were now caught on three fronts, but there was another front that most tankers found it instinctively hard to think about.
The air.
With the Imperial air cover distracted by enemy interceptors, a wave of heavy ground attack aircraft were able to sweep in from the direction of Manehattan. Vulture gunships that had been pummeling Chaos tanks moved to try and counter them, but they were not air superiority craft. Bombs, missiles and lascannon began to engage the Imperial tanks from above. At the best of times tanks were vulnerable to air attack. At worst, in the middle of a confusing and vast armoured engagement, they were sitting ducks.
Firepower rained down from the grey skies, knocking out a dozen Leman Russ tanks in a few moments. Shouted calls for air support went unheeded over the vox, as the Imperial fighters were dogfighting with their opponents, swirling through the clouds. More interceptors were on the way, but they were from the reserve and were still ten or fifteen minutes out. The enemy craft looped around for another run, knocking out more tanks almost unanswered, save for two that were brought down by Hydra fire from the following 9th Mechanised Infantry Regiment, who remained well clear of the titanic armoured clash unfolding ahead of them.
Confusion meant that many Imperial tanks didn't even know they were under air attack. Tankers had a nasty habit of tunnel vision, understandable given that visibility from a tank was all but nil wen buttoned up. Only the external scopes and sensors gave any indication of the state of the world beyond the hull, making tank combat in many ways more akin to space combat than to infantry action. Tank action took place almost in a vacuum; the crew could not see the tanks beside them in the line, not unless they turned their attention, and their turret, away from the enemy. The chances of seeing an incoming aircraft were negligible when buttoned up.
Big Beautiful Doll found herself rattled by explosions as a string of bombs went off closeby, throwing clods of sodden dirt onto the turret and rear deck but doing no damage. The sponson plasma cannons blazed brightly in the overcast, flashing across the plains even as lightning flashed down from the stormclouds above, the thunder all but silenced by the roar of battle.
Mayner looked again through the thermoscope. A scattering of targets still filled his vision, but then he saw something larger, a target that glowed a little hotter. He frowned and zoomed in, switching to the regular viewing mode.
That was when he saw the Baneblade.