Snippet #2706658

The Gobi Desert. 1400 hours. Haven's defense force mobilized around the massive mobile fortress. The Diesever, the Sarissa, the DK-13, and four tanks watched over the starboard entry, while the Paladin, the Stinger, and five tanks stayed vigil by the port side, both entryways pivotal for the masses of refugees which came. The nine tanks which accompanied the five silhouettes were considerably more primitive compared to the DK-13, built for suppressing and defensive fire instead of direct MASS combat.

"Heyyyy, Babe... hic... sweet... tanks ya got there....," a drunken tank driver called out to Anna, his slurry voice providing static through the intercomm.

"Marcus?! Have you been drinking AGAIN?" another tank driver reprimanded him.

From his cockpit, Renzam watched as thousands marched upon the ramp. Fathers. Mothers. Children. Merchants. Tradesmen. People of various shapes, sizes, color, and origin, yet of one destination. The Diesever's iron fingers wrapped around its bazooka's handle as the massive weapon rested on its shoulder. "This will take a while...," the spiky haired pilot thought aloud, transmitting his voice through the intercom. "Thank heavens this monkey suit has built-in air conditioning...."

Black Fang ground troops stood in front of the Silhouettes and the tanks, deployed to maintain peace and order, and, like the tanks, not to fight the MASS. One of the younger troopers looked up, gazing at the Stinger and the Paladin's huge and mighty forms, and whined, "Why can't I get one of those?", prompting an older trooper to bark at him, "Hey! Kid! Focus!"

"Scorpion has deployed the Stinger's scanner drones. Analyzing data...," Tsubaki's voice reported across each of the defense force's cockpit communicators. The operator's eyes and fingers moved about rapidly in the navigation tower as she shared a live feed from the drones' perspective. A steady, rhythmic beat. Nothing out of the ordinary.

"This is Black Fang's outrider force, we'll scout from ground level," a hoarse voice remarked. Heavy engines roared across the dune sea as Black Fang soldiers rode atop rusted, yet agile jeeps. What the Stinger's scanner drones couldn't pick up from a certain distance, the outrider force would catch with their eyes. Until the sandstorm comes, that is.

While Scorpion's drones and the Outriders kept an eye on the ground, the Polaris and the Corvidae took to the skies, soaring across the blue expanse and followed by five less advanced, non-Silhouette worthy fighter jets, each bearing the Black Fang sigil upon their left wing, each following the lead of the two Silhouette pilots.

"Let's do our best, Madams!" one of the fighter pilots encouraged them.

Far ahead, across the ocean of sand, the fighter squad could see it. Colorless, formless distortions in the air, creating ripples the size of olden skyscrapers. A low, droning noise emitted from within, as the indescribable distortions swelled and contracted...

"I-is that it? Freaky..." one of the fighter pilots stammered.