Marcus felt the Enoch surge as it accelerated. He braced himself against the obelisk of metal that was the Chuma, grimacing. Running the tank at such high speeds over rough terrain was dangerous; an unseen rock smashing into one of the running wheels could rip it off, or damage the track itself. The tracks on each side of the tank were massive, and repairing them was an incredible ordeal. They had extra tread links, but replacing one this close to enemy territory was almost a death sentence. A still tank was a dead tank.

He lurched again as the tank hit a sand dune. He cursed under his breath and looked at Penske, who looked distant. She, too, held onto the Chuma, deep in thought. As engineers, they didn't have "battle stations" per se, but rather were expected to rush to the site of damage for immediate repairs. On some tanks, Marcus had been trained, the Chief Engineer would monitor reactor levels during high levels of combat or duress, but Penske had tuned the reactor to such a fine level, and had programmed so many safety perameters in the reactor procedures, that constant monitoring of the reactor wasn't required. Instead, if the reactor dipped below the levels that Penske had set, the reactor's monitoring programs would radio Penske. So far, it had only warned Penske of unsafe procedures once.

After another tank-shaking impact, most likely from another dune that they hit too fast to crest, Penske snapped to the present. She looked at Marcus, a strange look in her eye. The young engineer felt uncomfortable under her gaze, as he hadn't seen that look but once or twice before.

"Let's go to the bridge," she said, letting go of the Chuma and striding swiftly towards the hold doors. Marcus was confused, but followed suit. The two walked down the passageways of the Enoch quickly towards the bridge, grabbing onto the handrails that adorned either side whenever the tank shuddered or tilted, which was often. Modi's driving like a bat out of the third hell, Marcus thought to himself. Another impact almost sent Marcus to his knees, but Penske was remarkably stable. Her experience under such conditions was plain.

The Enoch had dueled with other tanks while Marcus had been serving aboard her, and even killed one, but this felt different. The other duels didn't include high-speed chases over perilous terrain. They were slow, creeping, using cover and subtle tricks to outsmart the enemy, and get the drop on them. This, on the other hand, was beyond the pale. Marcus had never heard of a tank battle beginning in a high-speed chase through the dunes; it simply wasn't something that happened. Another impact lifted Marcus off of the ground, and then slammed him into the grates that made up the passageway floor. He groaned, on all fours, struggling to get his footing. We caught air, godsdammit Modi, he cursed to himself. The old man was running the leather, for sure. Marcus looked up to see Penske waiting for him, that strange look on her face. He didn't like that look leveled at him, so he scrambled to his feet and clawed his way over to her.

The two entered the bridge, which was bustling with activity, but surprisingly quiet. All of the normal bridge crew was present. Marcus saw Burns, the communications officer, monitoring radar and the radio. Mad Modi himself was indeed at the helm, hunched over and cackling as he guided the tank deftly over the dangerous dunes. A lesser driver would most certainly go slower over such ground, but Mad Modi hadn't earned his moniker because of anger issues. Marcus saw Shaw at a computer terminal, working on something, and Typhon, the marine captain, stood nearby, her hands on her hips, eyes locked on the screens at the front of the bridge. Commander Wyatt stood next to her, his stance wide, his hands clasped behind his back. His commander's coat was slung over his shoulders, and he looked imposing. As they entered, Wyatt and Typhon looked to see them arrive on deck. They both turned back to continue looking at the screens before either of them spoke.

"Good morning, Penske," Wyatt said. Penske nodded, and looked at the screens, standing next to Typhon. "You deserve to see this," Wyatt said, still staring ahead, "but was it necessary to bring Mr. Rhyne?" Penske thought for a moment, but nodded slowly.

"He'll take my job someday, Wyatt. He should see what this job entails sometimes." she replied. Wyatt nodded, silently signaling that he accepted Marcus being present on the bridge for this. The young engineer felt uncomfortable, as if he didn't belong here, which was mostly true. Still, the commander himself had accepted his presence, so he tried to stay out of the way to make sure he wasn't thrown out. The young engineer watched the screens with the officers, looking for the Cain, which they most certainly were chasing. He watched the dunes quickly approach, and quickly flash by the wayside as Modi deftly guided the tank through. Wyatt stood behind a railing that had a small control panel, and he flipped a switch on the panel. The screens flashed, changing the camera filters.

The screens changed from a literal view, which showed only swirling sand and fast-approaching dunes amidst a strong sandstorm, to an instrumental one. It showed the outlines of everything ahead of them, as a combination of radar and lidar. Far ahead, Marcus could just barely make out the vague shape of a small cube. He realized that was the Cain, and that it was within reach. Wyatt tapped the radio on his shoulder, keying the mic.

"You're free to fire at will, Killigrew. Whenever you think it's best." he said, his radio crackling.

"Hell, it's about time," said a deep voice. Instantly, a reticle appeared on the screens, and a deep mechanical whine crept out of the tank behind the bridge somewhere. Marcus knew that whine meant the turret was active, and likely traversing. The reticle meandered its way to the cube on the screens, and stayed latched onto it, as if glued. Marcus marveled at Killigrew's ability to hold the barrel steady despite Modi's driving, which was chaotic at best, and impossible to fire from at worst. After a few seconds of the reticle vaguely dancing around the cube on the screen, Marcus heard Killigrew's voice coming through Wyatt's radio again.

"Brace."

A gargantuan tremor shook the Enoch as she fired. It almost knocked Marcus off of his feet again, and he grabbed a nearby wall-mounted railing. The screens fuzzed with the shockwave of the round, and Marcus felt the entire tank lurch with the recoil. A bright green object on the screen flew towards the cube, but Marcus couldn't tell if it hit or not, because of the distance. Wyatt's radio crackled again.

"Missed, damn. Brace."

Once more, a massive tremor rattled the Enoch. Coffee cups fell off of counters and shattered. Dust filtered down from the ceiling. This time, however, Marcus was prepared, and stayed firmly planted. He admired how Penske and Typhon, who held onto nothing, were able to keep such stable footing despite Modi's driving, and Killigrew's recoil. Once again, Marcus was unsure if the enemy tank was hit by the round. Before Killigrew could speak via radio, however, Shaw spoke up.

"She's traversing, Commander," he said to Wyatt. The tank commander nodded.

"Brace," Killigrew said over the radio, sending another round. The tank shuddered, and Marcus felt the propellant detonation deep in his chest. The round flew towards the cube, and this time, a small red box appeared on the screen with a small gray line drawn towards where Marcus saw the round disappear on the cube.

"Hit, but deflection," said Shaw. "She's at one-eighty traverse, Commander."

"Evasives," commanded Wyatt, and Modi instantly smashed the tank to the left. The tank veered, and Marcus white-knuckled the bar he clung to. A bright green dot quickly approached, and whizzed past. Marcus realized the Cain must have turned its turret all the way around, and was firing on them. The two tanks swapped rounds a couple more times, Modi swerving the tank back and forth to keep the angles on the armored hull steep, so that an impacting round would richochet. The young engineer watched a green dot fast approaching, and he was knocked off of his feet when it struck the Enoch. The tank rung like a bell, a massive clatter resounding through its hull.

"Hit, but deflection," said Shaw. "It hit our turret, but bounced off of the cheek." Wyatt nodded.

"All hands, isolation protocols will now be enacted," Wyatt said into his shoulder-mounted radio. He flipped a switch on his control panel, and the bridge door behind them shunked closed. Marcus knew this meant that Wyatt had closed every door on the tank, and locked them. This way, if the tank was penetrated by an enemy round, the ensuing firestorm would be localized to a small area, rather than the entire tank. I wonder why the Methuselah hadn't done this, Marcus wondered.

It was common practice to use isolation protocols during duels, so that the entire crew wouldn't be loss in case of a knock-out. Those crew members that survived a tank's death could either surrender, and become prisoners of war to the Seditionists, or fight to the death. Some tanks even had auxiliary bridges, so if the primary bridge was destroyed, the tank could still operate under a skeleton crew of the survivors. Sometimes it wasn't enacted during combat, however, as it often made crew members unable to react to circumstances quickly, and sometimes a tank would get the drop on another tank, and there would be no time to enact the protocol before a tank would be destroyed. Every member of the Methuselah perished in a whirlwind of hellfire as their tank was pierced by a round. The ensuing explosion bored a massive hole in the side, to be sure, but the explosion wouldn't kill everyone aboard, as was always the goal with a duel initially. So the round also ignited the oxygen, turning the interior of the mortally wounded tank into a hellish firestorm. Every team member died in agony, their lungs and skin burned to a crisp.

Marcus swallowed, realizing that end was very much a possibility for everyone abord the Enoch. The Cain had competently killed the Methuselah, the tank equivalent of a war hero. The commander, he had heard, was reknowned. They simply messed up, and they paid for it with their lives.

The cube on the screens was slowly drawing closer, as Modi kept the chase up. He had increased the tank's speed even more to compensate for his winding driving tactics. Marcus winced with every bump and crash the tank suffered. I know something will be broken beyond repair, Marcus thought to himself. The young engineer saw shapes slowly appear on the screens that he initially thought were graphical glitches, but he realized they were pillars of stone, rising several hundreds of feet above the desert floor. They looked like the pillars the expedition crew had taken refuge under, but there were many more of them, and they were at least twice as tall as the pillar he was familiar with. It's trying to get away, Marcus realized. The enemy tank would use the pillars as cover, and disappear into the storms. That, or they'll use the pillars to hide and get the drop on us, he thought. He didn't know which one was worse. The enemy tank headed for a gap between two pillars. Wyatt keyed his mic.

"Killigrew-" he said, but he was interrupted.

"I see it," said the Chief Gunner, and the reticle changed from the tank to the right-most pillar the Cain was trying to drive between. After a brief moment of aim, the Enoch fired again, and once more the recoil rocked the tank to its frame. Marcus saw the round fly towards the Cain, but instead of hitting it, it flew past it, instead striking the inside of the right-most pillar. Marcus saw rock and sand particles fly on the instrument-interpreted screen, and realized the hit was intentional when he saw the pillar begin to lean, and then fall. He was struck by the brilliance of the maneuver. The officers are in a league above, Marcus marveled. Under such high stress, he wasn't sure if he would have thought of something like this.

The Cain began turning to avoid colliding with the pillar that they had initially tried to drive past.

"Enemy traversing to two-seventy, Commander," said Shaw, looking at his computer terminal. The tank was turning to the right, and Marcus saw the turret of the tank was turning with it, to keep its barrel firmly on the Enoch. Wyatt nodded.

"Brace," said Killigrew. Another round flew free from the barrel, the force fuzzing the screens again. Marcus saw the round fly towards the momentarily-slowed Cain. The enemy tank's profile had become larger, as its side was now facing the Enoch. The round struck the enemy tank, and the ensuing explosion blocked the enemy tank from their vision for a moment. The officers on the bridge were silent as they waited for a confirmation.

"Impact and penetration, Commander," said Shaw, "the Cain is-" a round whizzed out of the smoke that encircled the Cain and flew towards the Enoch. It flew straight towards them, and in the blink of an eye, it was upon them. It smashed into the front of the tank, which just so happened to be at a straight angle to the Cain when it struck. The enemy round detonated, and Marcus was flung across the room in the cacophany. The lights flickered and dimmed, and the screens fuzzed again. Marcus blinked, his head aching. He had hit it on something in the impact. He slowly crawled to his feet so see that he was still alive, as was everyone else on the bridge. Typhon and Penske had clung to a nearby railing, maintaining their footing. Wyatt looked almost completely unchanged by the impact.

"Impact and detonation, but no penetration," said Shaw. The screens at the front of the tank were static, save for one on the far corner, which showed nothing by sky and a piece of pillar. Modi cursed, and toggled a switch, and a periscope dropped lowered from the ceiling. Wyatt did the same, and a periscope descended for him as well. Typhon and Penske walked over to Burns, who was overseeing radar and lidar. Marcus followed suit, no longer able to see what transpired via the screens up front. The lidar screen was smaller than Marcus would have liked, but it was possible to see what was going on. The lidar only updated once every second, however, so the action "jumped" around frequently. Marcus saw that the enemy tank was still operational, and was disappearing into the pillar forest.

"I think their turret is stuck in place," said Shaw. "they're not traversing it. I think our impact took out its traversing capabilities." Wyatt nodded.

"Yes, though we shouldn't assume it can't fire at all. We need to remain vigilant." The officers all nodded in agreement. Marcus looked back at the screen to see that the enemy tank had disappeared into the pillars.

"Are we going in?" asked Modi.

"Indeed we are," said Wyatt. "We're going to chase this dog down." Modi grinned from ear to ear, and steered the tank into the pillar forest. As they neared, however, Marcus saw the instrument screens begin to blur and fuzz.

"This area has a significantly higher-than-normal level of radiation, Commander," said Shaw. "I think a nuke may have gone off here back in the day." Wyatt nodded.

"Let's make this quick, then. Go in, kill the Cain, salvage what we can, and get out." Wyatt said, still looking into the periscope. Marcus looked back at the instrument panel. He watched the dosimeter tick up beyond safe levels as they approached. The radar was confused by the ionizing radiation, and began giving false readings. The lidar, likewise, was hindered by the radiation, though it wasn't of great help in the pillars anyway. The lidar could only discern what was in view, and couldn't see objects behind other objects. That was radar's job, but the radar was having issues of its own. How are we going to find it in here? Marcus worried. He looked at Penske, though her face was a stoic monolith. She watched the instrument screens, her eyes dancing from panel to panel.

The young engineer felt the tank slow as they entered the pillar forest. The pillars were spaced several dozens of meters apart from each other, and a tank the size of a building could comfortably pass between them without worry of colliding with them. The dosimeter began to screech as they entered the drove through. Marcus kept his eyes glued on the screens, his heart racing. This had turned from a chase into a hunt. He only hoped it wouldn't turn into a trap like with -

Shaw spoke up.

"Commander, they're here, they're-" an explosion ripped into the tank, sending Marcus into the wall. He hit his head again, and he was dazed. The lights flickered, and sparks flew out from a conduit on the wall. The tank shuddered, and a deep groan came from deep within. The Enoch stopped.

"They've tracked us!" said Modi, who cursed in a language Marcus had never heard before. The old man raged, standing up and pacing angrily. Marcus' heart grew cold. The Cain had gotten the drop on them, just as Marcus had worried about. And they had damaged their track, most likely destroying a link or a drivewheel with a shot. They couldn't move without it. The next few seconds passed by in a blink. Two shots rang out. One was fired by the Enoch, and the other was fired by the Cain. Marcus felt another impact, although this time he was already on the ground, so he braced himself accordingly. This impact felt different, however. After a few seconds, Wyatt's radio crackled.

"Commander, I think that last round got caught between the turret and the hull. We have no traverse. It didn't detonate, however. We think it's just lodged there," said Killigrew through the radio. Wyatt nodded slowly, still looking into the periscope.

"I see the Cain plainly. They're not far off. It looks like you may have hit their reactor. Do you have a shot on them?" Wyatt said. After a few moments of silence, Killigrew responded.

"No, sir, we don't. They were reversing when we hit their rear. They drifted out of aim. We can't hit them." Wyatt nodded again, stepping back. He looked at the other officers.

"We're dead in the sand, and so are they." Wyatt gestured to Typhon. "Captain, collect your marines. Prepare to go out onto the surface. We may face boarders."