The salient mechanicals

Time to dust this off

I have seen brass, clockwork tanks running over the fields hereabouts in Farnak; that initial enthusiastic lurch over trench and mound before winding down, main gun oil vomiting one shell after another until the plastic belly is spent. And then they stop, guns wilting, until the infantry comes up behind and, in practised whirls, wind up the main spring so the tank's wheels get whirring enthusiasm to overtop the next rise.

So destruction in front comes in waves, at running pace, as blue-uniformed, spike-helmeted, Albonian infantry run up behind, the salient mechanicals.