*****
As his subordinates reluctantly turned to their tasks, the colonel set off on his own, exiting the campaign tent towards its windy exterior. Moments later the old major quietly joined him. Of all his staff members, Dennis Haven was the one he liked the most. Which was no wonder, seeing as he was the only subordinate present by Toramaki’s personal request.
The old grunt had never thanked him for that, but Tora had never for a moment expected him to.
The men stood in the wind and observed their surroundings. The trenches were barely visible beyond the tall trees. Their canopies were being harassed by the rising winds, branches creaking and groaning noisily, striking each other occasionally to make dull wooden sounds.
“That thing is probably only going to stop when it wants to. You know that, right?” the major said quietly.
“My greatest wonder is about its armor ...” the colonel remarked, ignoring the question. “The missiles we’re firing at it carry Octogen two-stage shaped charges, with copper-bonded tungsten powder cones. This is our state-of-the-art, and yet even multiple hits are entirely ineffective. What are your thoughts on that?”
“Has some kind of non-explosive reactive armor ...” the major mused. “Something that sets the charges off prematurely or deflects the forged carrots so they won’t penetrate. You should be asking someone from MEWAC or the cavalry units, though, not me.”
“But I’m asking you, Dennis ...”
“Then my answer will be the simple one. If a small bomb doesn’t do the trick, hit it with a bigger bomb!” he rasped.
“Bigger bombs are less mobile, slower and more cumbersome. There are no warheads in existence that –”
“Yes there are! The air force has no lack of big bombs in their inventory!”
“But no missile that can pack that punch. The bombs are slow to fall and quick to be intercepted. The missiles are faster and have been getting through, but they’re cherry-bombs compared to the free-fallers.”
The major turned on him with a scowl.
“Why are you talking to me about this? You know there’s a force right here with whole truckloads of explosives, a force that makes a point of improvising the charges in size and type for the mission at hand. Talk to EWAC! They’re mine-layers as well, and no mine needs to fly about to get its job done. Hell, they even have the equipment to dig as many massive holes as they need to – why are you smiling?”
The colonel beamed, amused at the major’s angry and puzzled expression. This was why he had requested Haven for his staff officer. The grunt was just the man to bounce problems and potential solutions off of, and on occasion he even managed to come up with one of his own. The reason for that was very simple. The major was old, tired and nearing retirement, and knew he would never be promoted beyond his current rank, nor did he have any fear of speaking his mind. Of course, as long as Tora had known him, the old major had never possessed such a fear in the first place.
Which was why he was still a major at the ripe old age of sixty three.
“A mega-mine, heh? That’s your solution?” the colonel asked with a smirk.
“What the fuck are you laughing at?! If that thing comes close enough to a giant remote-detonated mine, it won’t matter what magic it’s got up its skirt! The acceleration alone will kill the driver inside, even if the Suit doesn’t have a scratch on it after.”
“That is, assuming there’s a biological entity inside,” the colonel observed thoughtfully.
“If you don’t risk it, you’ll never get the brandy!” the major retorted.
“We need to find ourselves some combat engineers ...” Tora decided, and the pair set off to the north-east, where some could certainly be found.