"That is true." He switched the holovid from the new dronebot to a big map. The very western tip of Britain was flashing red.
"At fourteen hundred hours, the Martians have begun a major assault on the Cornwall's End naval and armor base. It includes several Martian ships, hundreds of drones and they've already established a stable Trans-Gate point on the shore. Cornwall Defense Forces are doing all they can to repel the invasion, but the casualties are mounting." The map changed to a spinning show of several mecha, tanks, trucks and planes.
"Several convoys and air support teams have been already dispatched or are being prepared for dispatch. You will be assigned to Convoy 13. It is comprised of five M-Ap5 and four M-E2 tanks, as well as six trucks; two with munitions, two with electronics, and two heavily armored with classified cargo. The tanks are not the escort - you are. Each tank and truck counts, but our remote spydrones already detected several barricades, patrol groups and we've got reports of drone ambushes and aerial bombardments against previous convoys."
"The tanks will provide some fire support, of course, but remember that you will be doing most of the fighting, and that you're responsible for safe delivery of the vehicles. After you get in the close vicinity of the base, you will be given the order to disengage and return, for we might need to dispatch additional convoys. Get ready and report to the hangar. You're leaving in twenty minutes." He looked at all six pilots.
"And that is all. Dismissed!"