Before Aroxy could even process the reply, Helma directly connected the crew comms to the Heavenly Sword channel and proceeded to rant in it. 

“ Why don’t you goose-stepping, jobbie jabber, baw bag, cludgie Heavenly Sword chickenshits come over here so I can shove that limpdick pussy ass GongGong up your asshole - “ 

Aroxy immediately shut down Helma’s comm privileges and grimaced at what he saw through the Von Luckner’s periscope. Radical insurgents and dirty bombs were like mixing oil and fire. The Free World Civil War thankfully never had guerillas who had access to enriched nuclear material. Through a twisted lens, Aroxy had to begrudgingly respect the insanity of the stratagem. The dam was the utilitarian nerve cluster of Nui Awa and silencing it would not only contaminate Nui Awa’s water supply for generations but likely blow them back into the Stone Age. It was a brilliant heartless tactic that only madmen could have come up with.

“ Turn 10 degrees to the left. 30 degrees up. Load smoke and fire on my signal.” 

“ Only problem with that one, sir,” Ansel replied whilst loading a firing belt of 50 cal into the Von Luckner’s auxiliary Ramseys. “ We’re out of smoke.” 

“ Acknowledged.” Aroxy blinked and then, peered out of his periscope in disbelief. “  I’m sorry, Lieutenant. Could you repeat that again?” 

“ I said, we’re out of smoke.” 
Aroxy wordlessly nodded and then, at the speed of a slug, slowly craned his neck over towards Takka who had taken command of the auxiliary MG mounted to the Merry Go Round’s turret to bisect a dazed insurgent who had been launched from their motorcycle. 

“ Correct me if I’m wrong, Lieutenant Takka, but I remembered I specifically said to requisition new ammo from the quartermaster at HQ?”

“ Well……….,” Takka shrunk in his seat. 

[hr]

“ So, like….. So like…” Takka teetered on the edge of his seat as he stared at the reflection of himself in the puddle. His bloodshot eyes squinted, shifting towards the deconstructed tank shell cuddled in his hands. The gunner wasn’t sure how he managed to screw the top of the shell off and insert a rubber hose into it but in all honesty, the last 4 hours of his life was a total maze. He took a puff off the noxious mixture from the shell and breathed it out in sputtering gags. 

“ Get this. Got a wild theory for you. What if we’re all just puppets controlled by cats. Cats with laser eyes. Think about it. That fucking Kerensky little shit thinks he can fucking jack my body at night and pilot it to rewire the quantum strings of the universe, he’s got another thing coming…” 

[hr]

“ Goddammit.” Aroxy slammed his fist against the hull of the tank. “ Guess we’re doing this the hard way. Helma, we still got incendiary?”

“ Aye, aye, cap.” 

“ Takka, aim downrange of Echo-1. We’re gonna keep firing until all that goddamn truck can see is a forest fire.” 

Takka and Helma worked together like a well-oiled machine, Helma chucking shells into the autoloader and Takka scattering the subsonic projectiles down a quarter of a klick from the front of the truck. The rounds splashed a sea of fire onto the plains, lighting the dry spring grass orange, as a cloud of black smog rose up to swallow the big rig.