A shield sprang to life, anchored at each end of the fire-base by Jessica’s will. It took on the shape of the top of an egg, isn’t it the strongest shape? Jessica asked herself, before refocusing on the task. It was as thick and hard as concrete, but as light as a feather. It wrapped the base in a protective barrier against the oncoming barrage.

You have activated, Staff of Defense. Rare. Shield Points: 100,000 / 100,000

The first mortars and rockets cracked against it, chipping away small sections of the hardened mana, but doing minor damage. A few shield points peeled away were hardly worth Jessica’s concern. She pushed the barrier up slightly, trying to give the shield some give for whenever it was struck next.

As suddenly as her shield sprang to life, the small pings turned into a downpour. The rhythmic peter pater into a torrent of unrelenting force. Jessica had to maintain the spell, anchor it with her will. But the sensory feedback was nearly overwhelming. She gritted her teeth as she saw the shield slide towards the ground. “No!” she shouted, and pushed back against the force with her own will, countering the constant barrage with nothing but her sheer stubbornness. Jessica watched as the shield points rapidly lowered to near zero and finally, the few hellish heartbeats of attack were over.

Current Shield Points: 5,372 / 100,000

Do you wish to reabsorb the shield and reclaim some mana from the staff? Yes / No

“Permission to close the spell, sir?” She grunted out from between clenched jaws.

“Granted.” Dawson said, clearly impressed. The shield collapsed as she selected Yes, and her mana pool felt a slight influx of some 537 mana. She gave Peep some of his back, but kept a small portion. She would need it if the fight went on any longer.

“Any luck with that airstrike request?” Dawson asked, looking over at the communications expert who was messing with the radio and computer setup that was his station.

“Yes sir, it’s coming . . .” A flight of something fast whizzed overhead, and a sound like thunder ripped through the night.

BRRRRRRRT! BRRRT! BRRRRT!

BRRRRRRRRRRRRT! BRRRT! BRT!

Men in the fort and on the ground shouted encouragement as the warthog ripped through the unseen foe in the dark. The radio squawked. “Their artillery is scattered or destroyed, sir. Your orders?” Dawson’s shoulders eased back a little, and a slight smile crossed his face.

The two warthogs split off, each going after different targets or circling back to new ones. Their black silhouettes were only visible in small glimpses against the starry sky. Jessica didn’t know what their new targets were, but what she knew was that she would whisper a prayer tonight, thanking God for those pilots. She wouldn’t have been able to put up that shield a second time.

“Get our armor out there to support the QRF. Tell captain Marsden to hold his position and screen for another infantry push. Tell him support is on its way.”

“Sir, he says they have prisoners. He’s requesting orders.”

“Keep them under armed guard until a relief force gets there. It shouldn’t be but a few minutes out. Then we’ll bring them back for interrogation.” The communications officer started talking on the radio again, as Jessica and Max watched on.

“Sir, message from General McIntire.” The man’s face was pale.

“What is it? Spit it out.”

“He says, he says a SAM missile system locked on to the last civilian cargo hauler and launched its entire payload at her. She went down, sir. We need to send out a rescue team.”

“Fucking Jesus on top of a god damn rhinoceros!” The men and women in the control platform all looked at the first Sargent with a mix of concern and curiosity. The man had gone from calm and even relieved to enraged in a matter of seconds. “Fuuuuck me with a metal spoon right up the fucking ass.”

Dawson smiled and shook his head at his lead NCO’s creative display. “Do they have coordinates, or do we need to locate the crash site?” The Major asked, silencing any response from the other officers on the command deck.

That was rather creative, Jessica thought. Mamma would have still cleaned his mouth out. It’s not that it was worse than anything else she’d heard that night. It had basically been one long stream of expletives from various people.

“Yes sir, coordinates were sent. I’ll have them loaded to the battle net, and on a data pad in a moment.”

“You two.” He pointed at Jessica and Max. “You’re going to be with the recovery team.” He spun back towards the communications expert. “Send them all the info you have. Forward it to the table too.” He locked eyes with Max. “I’ll have someone here coordinate with you. Third platoon just signaled ready.” He pointed at the holographic table that was the centerpiece of the combat command deck. The thing was not standard procedure on bases, but Jessica saw its use.

It provided a safe place for leadership to direct the actions in real time of the different elements in defensive actions. It would never work in an assault, but in coordinating a defense? It had proved useful. At least it had to Jessica. ““They’ll be your escorts. Their job will be to secure the site, yours will be to stabilize as many of the medical cases as possible before disaster response can get there. Third platoon will be loaded and ready for a fight down in the staging area. Get yourself whatever you need from the armory and then get down there.”

“Yes sir.”

“Yes sir!” Max said, as he turned on his heels and started down the metal steps. Jessica followed suit.