A gout of flame shattered the gates and sent them tumbling into the outyard. The Ironstorm cut loose before the smoke cleared sending a solid wall of metal hurtling through the opening. The engineers scurried away from the storm, shielding crates of ordnance from the incoming fire with their bodies. Alan ran with them, pausing at regular intervals to send a burst of fire ripping towards the gate. The Hammer’s pushed through the gap, sprinting through the fire and headlong into the close combat troops in the bunkers. The heavy cluster shells shredded the oncoming soldiers, the cloud of razor pellets working their way into gaps, tearing through hydraulic lines and severing ammo belts. The close combat troops didn’t last long, the Hammer’s roiled through the gate, pouring fire into the bunker and downing the men inside. Alan bit back a curse, he hated to see his men fall but they’d done their job. They’d bought the engineers time. Bombs were wired to the side of the tower and placed along its base. Ironstorm mercs fell, the Hammers rolled in, Alan knelt and held in the trigger on his guns. The weapons howled, spitting death. 

The tower blew, coming off the cliffside in a shower of rubble and a storm of flame. The tortured metal groaned, and crashed over the wall, kicking up a haze of dust and smoke. Escape was cut off, the combat walker was buried and Hammer mercenaries clawed their way out of the rubble. Alan didn’t give them a chance to find their feet. He fired into the struggling men, filling the rubble with machine gun fire and priming the grenade tubes on his left arm. The grenade launched barked out a bassy thump as it fired its payload. The grenades burst, engulfing the mercs in flame and peeling back their outer plates. Alan was on the move before the mercs could return fire, leaping to the side before they could train their guns on him. He skidded to a stop and fired a short burst, leaping back to where he’d fired the grenades. Bullets tore the space he’d occupied a moment before. The machine guns howled again dropping one of the mercs. 

Alan sepherded the engineers back to the garage and took up position next to his snipers. Downed suits of power armour littered the courtyard, his close combat units were down, as were the support gunners, the only troops left were three of the snipers and himself. The last of the Hammers closed in, he ducked and loaded a pair of fresh rounds into his grenade launcher. He leaned up over the barricade into a wall of fire. The explosion washed over the four of them bowling them over. Alarms wailed, a hot coppery taste filled Alan’s mouth, and he hauled himself to his feet, looking at the men around him through a spiderweb crack in his visor. The snipers wouldn’t be getting up again, the safety stops had been tripped on their reactors, shutting down the suits. 

Alan was alone, alone with a squad of angry mercenaries bearing down on him. He rolled out of cover, coming up in a low crouch and firing his laser. The weapon shrieked, sending a blue white beam burning through the air. It struck the squad’s leader, sending arcs of electricity dancing across his plating and leaving him a smoking heap in the dust. He jumped to his feet dancing away from a hail of bullets and replying in kind. Stitching a line of fire across the mercs. Bullets sparked off his armour, slamming into the thinner plating and sending him staggering back. Gears ground and a river of sparks spat from his left shoulder. The machine gun roared, shredding a second merc. Round after round slammed into him, driving him to his knees, snarling he fired the grenade launcher. The win rounds arced into the rubble, detonating and taking out another merc at the knees. An armoured claw bit into his collar, hauled him into the air and tossed him back over the barricade like a ragdoll. He landed on his back and pulled himself into a sitting position. He was staring at a firing line of Hamilton’s Hammers on the wall and a suit of armour decorated in gold trim looming over barricade. 

“It’s over boy.” said the gilded soldier,his voice deep and gruff. 

Alan tapped a key on the inside of his suits forearm, ordering the small mechanical arm on his back to load a fresh fresh grenade into the shoulder mounted tube. “Not yet.” The genade struck the golden merc square in the chest, shattering armour and wreathing the suit in smoke and fire. Alan pressed the advantage firing a long screaming stream of bullets into the hole left by the grenade. The small rounds ricocheted between the armours plate layers, bouncing their way into critical systems. The suit bled coolant, sparks and long plumes of vapour, then fell limp. The reactor safeties had engaged. 

The rest of the Hammer’s were shocked into numb silence. Alan took the time to load the last of his grenades, scowling down at a trickle of blood running out from the waist of his plating. When had that happened? With a groan he peeked back up into the line of fire, letting the last three grenades fly and panning his guns across the firing line. The explosives rained fire down on the troops, men staggered and tumbled off the wall. The machine guns clicked dry. Alan fell backwards, drained, sitting in the dust. A series of heavy thumps announced the arrival of the end. The last of the Hammers vaulted the barricade, blackened and smoking, and met the hydraulic claws of the engineering team. It was a knock down, drag out no holds barred brawl. The engineers gave as good as they got, falling under the heavy blows of the Hammers but tearing into the enemy soldiers with claw and cutting torch. Alan struggled to his feet, stumbling into the brawl and peeling back the plating of the nearest soldier. Rhodes fired a cutting torch into the gap, burning out a coolant pump and causing the reactor to shutdown.  And just like that it was over, the last Hammer fell, leaving Rhodes and Alan standing alone, knee deep in the devastation. 

Rhodes clapped a hand on Alan’s shoulder. “I have a proposition for you, Lieutenant. After this display, I think you have what it takes to be part of something bigger than the mercenary life. How would you feel about leaving the Ironstorm?”