Four freight jetcopters were carrying enormous, disk shaped ceramic heat shields, each equipped with anti-gravity generators to hold them about six meters above the cannon's rails. The copters placed them at regular intervals along the length of the track. The generators underneath the convex shields spun up and pumped out an invisible flux that mottled the air like rising heat.
Eric threw a fatigued look at the shields and put his back to the proud general's monitor.
"We dismissed the idea of heat shields weeks ago. They're only good for a few shots, and the grav generators can't keep them in the air long enough. I'm afraid it's wasted effort, General." Eric felt Nishikado's countenance harden behind him, and flinched.
"A heat shield's effectiveness in a prolonged frontline defense is negligible. Against an immediate, aggressive threat like this, it's my belief they will protect the track and maximize our maneuverability, Doctor. At the very least they might damage one of those ships should we fail and the viral entities inside swarm out to devour our planet," Nishikado snarled over his shoulder - quiet, yet skillfully menacing.
The cannon glided down a small ramp and onto the rails. Eric checked the alien fleet's altitude. As the radar data returned, the sensor stream suddenly disappeared.
Panicked, Eric jumped to his feet, banging his head on the inwardly sloping roof as he switched on two large, ceiling-mounted displays. The displays acted as windows so the driver could see what was directly above the cannon - it was dark, with a faint shimmer in the air.
They'd moved beneath the first heat shield. Eric sighed with relief and halted the cannon to check through the rest of the weapon's equipment, cursing quietly as he did.
The general turned to see why they'd stopped.
"Is there a problem, Doctor?"
"Yes. These damn shields of yours are blocking our sensors. We're completely blind when we're under them!"
"We still have our eyes and ears, Doctor. There's no cause to go to pieces just yet."
The engineer shrank under the suggestion of cowardice, because he knew it was true. He was balanced on a crumbling precipice of fear, desperately afraid of moving, yet equally aware he couldn't stay still.
The jetcopter released the last attachments of the heat shield above them, the enormous disk bobbing on its anti-gravity generators. Without warning, a single shot from a black dot in the sky tore through the copter and impacted hard on the shield. The sound was deafening - magnified by the pressure flux of the generators as they compensated for the violent shock.
Panic tore through the on-looking crowds.
It seemed like an eternity until the cacophony subsided, only to be followed by another powerful blast from the lead ships in the landing party - this time blowing a crater in the ground. It was the moment Eric had feared and the general had been waiting for - the invaders were in range.
Try as he might, Eric wasn't moving - his head was still buried in his tense shoulders after the first explosion.
"I can't shoot while we're under the shield, Doctor! We need to keep moving if we want to get through this! The targeting scanners are waiting for a signal!" The general was clearly adept at battlefield psychology, and his casual allusion toward their survival jolted Eric into action. The cannon cruised out over the crater and the ceiling monitors flooded the cockpit with artificial daylight.
