The rumble grew. Not the distant growl of thunder, but a metallic thrum, shaking the very ground beneath Rhys’s thick, hide boots. It intensified, a predator’s snarl. The air itself vibrated, making the dried leaves on the forest floor skitter. Rhys tasted dust, his jaw tight.
“Gods below,” Kael breathed, eyes wide, fixed on the approaching sound. Bor grunted, shifting his weight, his heavy spear gripped tight. Even he looked less like an immovable stone, more like a nervous bear.
Rhys’s mind raced. *Ground Assault Vehicle. GAV-7 model, common during the early expansion phases. Armored hull, energy cannon, anti-personnel pulse emitters. Weak points: sensor arrays, exhaust ports, tread mechanisms. Vulnerable to concentrated kinetic impact or EMP burst.* But they had no EMP. Only crude spears and flint-tipped arrows.
Trees, thick and ancient, began to sway violently. A section of the forest ahead simply flattened, splintered wood flying like shrapnel. Then it emerged. A low, blocky monstrosity of ceramite and plasteel, painted dull grey, moving with terrifying speed. Its segmented tracks tore through the undergrowth, leaving a scarred path of destruction.
Its single main cannon, a thick barrel bristling with emitters, traversed the devastated line of trees. It searched. For them.
“Run,” Rhys snarled, pushing Kael hard. “North! Into the canyon!”
Kael didn’t argue. He scrambled, a burst of primal fear fueling his legs. Bor, surprisingly agile for his bulk, followed, a guttural sound torn from his throat. Rhys was right behind them, his own massive Wildlander muscles burning. His mind, however, was already a dozen steps ahead.
---
The canyon offered a sliver of hope. A jagged scar in the earth, its walls were steep, treacherous, and offered cover. They scrambled down, loose rock showering behind them. The GAV couldn't follow them in here. Not directly.
But it would find a way. It always did.
From their precarious perch halfway down the cliff face, they watched the GAV halt at the canyon’s edge. Its optical sensors, glowing dull red, swept the ravine. The silence, after its mechanical roar, was deafening. Ominous.
“It’ll try to shell us,” Rhys whispered, his voice hoarse. “Or send infantry. There must be a drop-off point, a ramp on its undercarriage.”
Kael scoffed. “Shell us? We’re nothing to it.” His voice was laced with a fatalism Rhys hated.
“We killed their scouts,” Rhys reminded him, his voice flat. “They’re not here for sport. They’re here for vengeance. Or to clear the path for something bigger.”
He scanned the GAV. *GAV-7, armored chassis, heavy plating… but the sensor arrays…* They were mounted on flexible stalks, vulnerable. And the exhaust vents, usually located on the rear, or sometimes the side, depending on the variant. *If I can get close enough…*
The GAV started to move again, trundling along the canyon rim, seeking a way down. Its treads grated, echoing. Rhys’s eyes fixed on a specific spot on the canyon wall, a narrow ledge barely wide enough for a goat, leading to a precarious overhang directly above where the GAV might attempt to descend.
“Bor,” Rhys said, his voice low, filled with a sudden, chilling calm. “Can you dislodge that?” He pointed to a massive, weathered boulder, teetering on the edge of the overhang.
Bor stared. Then he looked at Rhys, a flicker of something new in his simple eyes. Not just fear, but curiosity. And a nascent trust.
“Heavy,” Bor grunted, weighing the boulder with his gaze.
“Can you?” Rhys pressed. “We need it. Now.”
Bor nodded, a single, decisive movement. He began to climb, a slow, deliberate ascent, his huge hands finding purchase in cracks and fissures. Kael watched, speechless, his usual sarcastic retort dying in his throat.
---
The GAV located a natural ramp, a gentle slope of eroded rock leading into the canyon floor. It began its slow, grinding descent. The ground shook. Rhys felt his teeth ache. He had to be precise.
“Bor! When it’s directly beneath the overhang! Not a moment sooner!” Rhys yelled, his voice strained. The GAV was halfway down, its main cannon elevated, scanning the canyon walls.
Bor grunted from above, a dark silhouette against the sky. He strained, muscles coiling and flexing, trying to shift the colossal rock. It groaned, a deep, grinding sound that matched the GAV’s treads. Rhys watched, heart hammering against his ribs. The energy cannon traversed, then locked onto their general position. A whine began, rising in pitch.
“Now!” Rhys screamed, as the GAV entered the kill zone. Its energy cannon flared, a brilliant lance of burning light erupting from its barrel, tearing into the cliff face just above them. Rock exploded, showering them with debris.
Then, a thunderous crack. The boulder tore free, plunging downwards. It seemed to hang in the air for a horrifying second, then slammed into the GAV’s top plating with the force of a small asteroid. Ceramite shrieked. A sickening crunch echoed through the canyon. The GAV shuddered violently, listing to one side, its treads digging furrows into the earth.
Sparks flew. Smoke billowed from the impact site. The energy cannon, still humming, swiveled wildly, firing a blast into the opposite canyon wall before going dark. Silence descended, broken only by the settling dust and the GAV’s strained groans.
“Did we…?” Kael started, awe in his voice.
“Not done,” Rhys said, already moving. “It’s damaged, not destroyed. It’ll reboot. Or its internal defenses will activate.” He pointed. “We need to hit the treads. Cripple it. And the exhaust. That’s its lifeblood.”
He knew the GAV would have redundant systems. A single boulder wouldn't guarantee a kill. But it bought them time. And opportunity.
---
They moved fast, using the cover of fallen rocks and the smoke. Kael, recovering his nerve, nocked an arrow. Bor, still high above, was already finding another, smaller boulder, ignoring the risk. Rhys, grabbing Kael’s arm, pulled him towards the GAV’s left flank, the side facing away from the damaged top.
“The treads,” Rhys hissed. “Aim for the drive wheel. Or the hydraulic lines.” He pointed to a vulnerable looking assembly near the rear.
Kael hesitated. “My arrows won’t pierce that.”
“They don’t need to pierce. They need to jam. Or snap something. Anything to stop it moving.” Rhys himself hefted a heavy, jagged rock. The Wildlander body understood kinetic force. He'd put his weight into this.
They crept closer. The GAV was emitting a high-pitched whine, its internal systems struggling. Then, a sudden, horrifying clatter. A hatch, near the vehicle’s base, slid open. Two Hegemony troopers, clad in segmented grey armor, dropped out, plasma rifles raised. They were dazed, disoriented by the impact, but instantly alert.
Rhys cursed. *Infantry deployment.* He hadn't accounted for this so quickly. His historical data on GAVs typically assumed a safer disembarkation zone.
The troopers spotted them. One raised his rifle, aiming at Rhys. Rhys didn't think. He reacted. He threw the rock with all his considerable strength, not at the trooper, but at the tread assembly. The rock hit with a clang, lodging itself deep into a gap between the track and the housing. A gear ground, screeched, then snapped. The left tread went completely slack.
The GAV groaned, a deep, wounded sound. Its engines throttled. It was effectively immobilized.
But the troopers were still a threat. The first trooper fired, a bolt of superheated plasma streaking past Rhys’s ear, vaporizing a patch of rock behind him. Kael, with surprising speed, loosed an arrow. It hit the trooper’s chest plate. The arrow snapped, useless.
“Their armor!” Kael cried out, desperation in his voice.
“Faceplates! Joints!” Rhys yelled back. He ducked another plasma bolt, the heat searing his cheek. The second trooper was advancing, rifle tracking. Rhys saw a glint of light on the trooper’s helmet, a small optical sensor. *Small target.* He grabbed another rock, smaller, sharper, and flung it with terrifying precision. It hit the sensor lens, shattering it. The trooper staggered, disoriented, clutching his helmet.
Kael, seeing the opening, loosed another arrow. This time, it found the unarmored joint of the trooper’s arm, just below the shoulder pauldron. The trooper cried out, his plasma rifle clattering to the ground. Rhys charged, a guttural yell tearing from his throat. He brought his club-like fist down on the trooper’s exposed helmet, a heavy, bone-jarring impact. The trooper slumped.
The first trooper, recovering, raised his rifle again. But Bor, who had descended the cliff after dislodging a second, smaller boulder, landed with a heavy thud behind him. Bor didn't hesitate. His heavy spear came down, a blur of motion, impaling the trooper through the back of his neck, where the helmet met the armor collar. A gurgle, a twitch, and the trooper went still.
Silence. Again. A different kind this time. Not ominous, but heavy. Primal. They had faced Hegemony tech. And they had won. For now.
---
Rhys knelt beside the disabled GAV. Smoke still curled from the impact point of Bor’s first boulder. The left tread was a mangled mess of twisted plasteel and snapped cables. The main cannon was dead, its energy cells likely compromised. It was a metal husk.
He pried open the access panel near the GAV’s disabled hatch. Inside, glowing data conduits and flickering lights. Rhys, despite the sweat stinging his eyes, the cuts on his knuckles, felt a jolt of exhilaration. This was his realm. Data. Systems. He could almost smell the old libraries, the cool, sterile air of the Hegemony data vaults.
“What are you doing?” Kael asked, watching him with wary curiosity. Bor merely grunted, still holding his bloody spear.
“Looking for anything useful. A comm-unit. Logs. Maps.” Rhys’s fingers, thick and calloused, moved with surprising dexterity, bypassing security locks he’d only ever read about. The Wildlander body, though built for brute force, adapted to the intricate.
He pulled out a small data-pad, still humming with power. Its screen flickered to life. A geo-scan. The terrain around them, rendered in holographic detail. And a series of waypoints, forming a distinct path. A path that led… north. Deeper into the Sundered Marches.
Rhys scrolled, his breath catching. This wasn't just a patrol. This was a reconnaissance mission. A probe. And its final waypoint was marked with a red symbol. A stylized pictograph of a small, fortified settlement. *Wildlander settlement.* But not just any settlement. This was the location of the Sunstone Clan. Kael’s clan. Bor’s clan.
The data-pad hummed in his hand, a cold, indifferent voice of impending doom. He zoomed in further. The red symbol pulsed. And beneath it, a single line of Hegemony script. *'Phase One: Displace & Clear. Target: Sunstone Clan. Estimated Resistance: Low. Estimated Population: 700 souls.'*
Rhys looked up, his gaze meeting Kael’s. Kael, who had just watched him dismantle a war machine, who had begun to show a grudging respect. Rhys felt a chill that had nothing to do with the setting sun. The Hegemony wasn't just looking for scouts. They were coming for home. And he, Rhys, now carried the map to their destruction.
He squeezed the data-pad. Its edges dug into his palm. The blood on his hands wasn't just from the fight. It was from the future. And he had to choose what to do with it.
He had to choose between survival, and becoming the monster they needed him to be.
His old life was truly dead now. This new one… it demanded everything.
He looked at Kael, at Bor. They had won this fight. But the war had just begun. And the Hegemony knew where to find them all.