It was the long retreat all over again.

The Alliance forces were hard pressed on all fronts, as the scattered Troika soldiers coalesced into companies and battalions of their own. First Squad and the others had earned a brief reprieve with the Ixians arrival, long enough to evacuate the wounded, but even there the reports were bleak. They’d got Becca out after a sparse resupply, but they’d deemed Rúna fit enough to remain with the squad. Fragments from the Aggaaddub weapon were still embedded in her chest and scalp, though thankfully her helmet and vest had blunted the worst of it. Doc Svoboda had patched her up as best he could, though she was forced to go without painkillers, and digging out the buckshot would have to wait. Every step she took as they fell back sent another throb of misery stabbing into her skull as the survivors staggered to their next position.

“... stop… please, I beg you,” the Paygan gasped, his chest heaving with ragged effort. He and the other Ixians were in rough shape, unable to compete with the Terrans’ unique stamina. “Just a few minutes,” he pleaded, “to catch our breaths.”

“No time,” Rúna wheezed, grabbing the Ixian’s arm and throwing it over her shoulder as she pushed onward, dragging him with her. It caught him by surprise, so much so he didn’t have time to lodge even a token protest as they pushed on. Up and down the line she spotted other Valkyries doing the same, assisting their allies where they could. Considering how the Ixians pulled their asses out of the fire, it was the least they could do.

Rivka wasn’t propping up an alien, as she had troubles of her own. She struggled under the heavy gun she carried, bequeathed to her at Tawfiq’s death, her tear-stained face gone grey with dehydration and exhaustion. It lay across her shoulders, her arms curled around the butt and barrel as if she’d been crucified, her slight frame straining and bent under the gun’s weight. Kai went to her, his face filled with concern, as he touched her gently on the elbow to get her attention. “Here, let me carry that awhile,” he offered, reaching out for the machine gun.

She glared at him, her eyes filled with venom, “It’s mine,” she snarled, pulling away from him. “I was his assistant, and I’ll damn well carry it!” Rivka stormed off, but the adrenaline surge only transported her a few steps before she fell back into the same slow trudge. Even that brief effort was a drain, and as Kai looked at her helplessly, Rúna could only shake her head in return. Losing Tawfiq had shattered the young PFC, and the way she clung to the symbol that defined the big man, fulfilling some silent vow, Rúna knew the only way they’d take it from her would be to pry it from her cold, dead fingers, no matter what it was costing her.

Walking Wounded. After Doc had treated her injuries as best he could, that’s how she’d been triaged; damaged, but still able to move under her own power, still able to fight. She looked to those that were left: Rivka, a blessed icon of pain incarnate, Kai, his face filled with worry lines, the first sprinkling of gray now in his hair, Doc, his medkit all but depleted, left with little more than ragged scraps and placebos, and Arthur, the frightened kid, now replaced by a lean figure made of grit and iron.

Yeah… we’re all Walking Wounded now, Rúna thought blearily. She could only imagine how she must appear to them, with bloody bandages wrapped around her skull, stained with dirt and sweat. Like something from their nightmares maybe, a revenant come to claim their souls.

“How?” the Paygan all but whimpered, stumbling as he struggled to keep up, “... how do you keep going?”

Good question.

But this wasn’t the day for soul-searching. “One foot in front of the other,” she mumbled, tightening the grip around his wrist, “one foot in front of the other.” He stared at her, confused at first, but then looked down at his own feet as he attempted putting her advice to practical use. Rúna managed an internal shrug. Maybe it’d keep him quiet for a while.

Off in the distance they could hear the sounds of battle echoing across the landscape. Were they winning? Losing? Who knew? What few communiques they’d received were jumbled fragments, tantalizing and often contradictory. They had wiped out the HQ. HQ had not been wiped out, but had thrown off an enemy assault instead. The Legion was surrounded and fighting for their lives. The Legion had broken out and was on the offensive.

Were any of them true? None of them?

Did it matter?

Not to us, she decided. They were in the same position they always were, just trying to survive. They’d fight for as long as they could. Maybe it would be enough. That was all she knew, all she had room for. Anything else would just have to wait.

She managed a quick glance at Kai, catching his attention. He gave her a weary smile in return, before going back to scanning their flanks for the enemy. Rúna winced, looking away.

That would have to wait as well.

A warbling tone yanked her from her reverie. “HQ to Alpha Team; be advised hostiles are en route to your location, ETA one-zero mikes. No further information at this time. Out.” The helmet radio cut off as she and the other leaders froze in their tracks as they quickly scanned their surroundings.

“There’s no good ground here,” Kai swore, “nothing we can defend.”

The terrain sloped from right to left, with little in the way of outcroppings or vegetation, covered with a mixture of sand, clay, and gravel. They were exposed and fatigued, and ten minutes wasn’t enough time to dig in or run. Kai was right. Without some kind of contoured soil to use to their advantage, they were screwed.

Unless…

Rúna grabbed her sergeant by the arm. “I’ve got an idea,” she told him. “Break out the shovels.”

“There’s no time to dig foxholes,” he growled, as the Paygan struggled to follow the conversation.

“There’s time enough for what I have in mind,” she fired back, dumping her ruck.

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The brigade of Eleexx troopers entered the barren landscape with a sense of caution. They’d tangled with several Allied groups already, each one worse than the last. EA and the Zaitai hadn’t given them much grief, though the Ixi and Legion more than made up for that. But the Terrans…

They scanned the horizon nervously with their bulging compound eyes. Reports were coming in from both the Aggaaddub and the Chell, and they told an all too familiar tale. Bands of Terran marauders… some backed with other members of their “Alliance”, some not… were staging attacks throughout the sector. They’d only pacified a small area near the initial landing zones, and then only at substantial cost. There had been shockingly few prisoners to take as well. Most pulled back when their positions grew untenable, while others fought to their last breath. What few prisoners they had captured were mostly wounded, too weak or gravely injured to escape, but even there they’d learned a grisly lesson. Some wounded Terrans would hide a bomb on their person and trigger them when a Troika formation drew near, killing not only themselves but several of their enemy as well in the explosion.

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Madness.

The Terrans had to be stopped, and this battle proved it. Bad enough they had learned of the Precursor planet, and that one of their own had found a way past the Guardian’s defenses so many years before, a feat no other race had duplicated. Even worse was the rebellion they were fomenting, one that had started with a single rogue assassin and now threatened to destabilize the entire Perseus Arm. The thrice-damned Oivu were laughing in their sleeves, knowing there was little the Troika could do to them, but plans were already being drawn up to deal with the cowardly merchant plant beings, once and for all.

After they put the current insurrection down, of course.

They fought like demons of legend, refusing to surrender so long as there was breath in their lungs. No tactic was too devious for a Terran, no stratagem too bizarre for them to attempt. They had already witnessed many strategies that were simply too outlandish to even consider, that should not have been successful… and yet they were.

The sooner this entire misbegotten wolfling race was driven to extinction, the better.

And yet they had to proceed carefully. The days when they could simply order the death of a species were rapidly fading, as more and more races eyed them with fell intent. Push too fast, too far, and they might wonder if they were next on the list. Self-preservation is a powerful motivator, and one triggered it in their enemies at one’s peril. Tempting though it might be, they could not simply crush the Terran threat and wipe their claws of it. The situation dictated they must be clever if they were to succeed.

If the galaxy understood anything, it was that the Eleexx were exceptionally clever.

And then, perhaps, they could finally deal with their so-called allies, the other two-thirds of the Troika. Until now the situation had been, while not ideal, at least tolerable. Better they rule together than be constantly at each other’s thorax, but as the first tantalizing clues of the Precursor world had emerged, the infighting between the three races had grown savage. For now the internecine battles were being fought in remote regions, were plausible deniability reigned supreme… or even better, could be blamed on the Terrans and their allies… but that too would change. The Eleexx Suzerainty would claim the Precursor world for their own, and use the technology found there to scourge the galaxy of their enemies, now and forever.

Still, a fight for another time. For now they had to deal with this fledgling Alliance, and once that was done, teach the Sonoitii their place. They would keep a handful alive to continue producing their coveted eggs, but once this battle was finished, there would be a culling.

Oh, yes… a great culling indeed.

The advance scouts examined the sparse terrain with care, before signaling the main body to move forward. There were no signs of hidden mines, their greatest concern, and while the ground was rough and uneven, at least there was no place for the enemy to hide. Emboldened by this, they picked up the pace, eager to find and vanquish the Terran upstarts as quickly as possible. They had led them on a merry chase, but their last gasp of freedom was rapidly drawing to an end.

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Rúna watched the Eleexx column move past her position, afraid to even breathe. Although it had been her own idea, she was shocked beyond all belief it had actually worked. Maybe it was those big bug eyes of theirs, she reasoned, or maybe they were simply overconfident. Either way, they had blithely wandered right past where she and the others lie in wait, hidden beneath tarps covered with a layer of rocks and dirt. The camouflage had worked even better than she’d expected, just so long as you didn’t move.

She had an itch on her fanny that was driving her absolutely bonkers.

Still, they waited, hoping to catch as much of the alien bugs in one shot as they could. That was the big flaw in her plan, the moment they opened fire they’d be exposed. Without something to hide behind, the Eleexx would make quick work of them, unless they could hit them hard enough with the opening strike and keep hitting them, hopefully driving them off. It wasn’t a brilliant plan. Far from it.

Just the only one that gave them a snowball’s chance to survive.

They had positioned one gunner to kick off the ambush… not Rivka; she was likely to kick things off too early in her hunger for vengeance. One of the others, a PFC she barely knew, but steady in the clutch. They’d tied him into spotters on either side of the ambush site, as everyone waited for his signal. Once he opened fire, it was game on.

Any minute now…

The burst of machine-gun fire caught her by surprise, even though she’d been waiting for it. But it only threw her for an instant before her own rifle joined the sweet chorus that was shredding the astonished Eleexx to bits. Her weapon slammed into her shoulder with every shot, sending daggers of pain coursing up her spine before hammering spikes into her brain, yet she didn’t relent for an instant. Agony was better than death, no matter how you sliced it.

The insectoids all but exploded under the withering fire, their hard carapaces poorly designed for projectiles traveling at supersonic speeds. Despite their surprise, they regrouped and return fire, their beam weapons lashing out at and scorching the countryside. Some beams found their mark, but many more didn’t. Rúna recalled hearing something about those bug eyes of theirs... complex eyes, they called them… that made it difficult to see non-moving targets. Of course they wore helmets and filters to compensate, just as Terrans did, but caught by surprise like they were?

They didn’t seem to help.

With a roar, the Ixi threw off their tarps and charged the enemy, their blades raised high. It was all she could do to keep from grinding her teeth in frustration as she kept pouring it on. They’d all but balked at what they called “Cowardly” tactics… apparently, they thought a formal duel should decide all battles… but once it was pointed out that the Eleexx weren’t likely to agree to those terms and just shoot them out of hand, they’d grudgingly gone along with the plan.

It seemed they’d added a wrinkle of their own, without sharing. They’d need to have a small chat about that.

Later, of course. For now, they killed.

The Ixians tore into the column with a ferocity that seemed almost human, their swords tearing the bugs to shreds, and in the end, it proved to be too much. The Eleexx broke, scattering in all directions like… well, like roaches, caught in the light… easy pickings as they took them down one after another until the stragglers finally escaped out of range. The calls of “Cease fire!” rang out as the sound of weaponry slowly ground to a halt, with the Terrans emerging from their dirt-laden cocoons. They brushed themselves off and secured their gear before making a beeline for the shattered column as they began picking through the corpses, looking for supplies.

Rúna bent down and picked up a beam-rifle, hefting it as she gave it a quick function check. She was familiar with the technology, though the Valkyries rarely used them. Projectile weapons were simpler, easier to maintain, and cheaper to construct, but with her injuries she couldn’t take the constant pounding. Beams didn’t kick.

She cleared and slung her rifle, digging out her remaining ammunition and handing it over to Kai as he moved to join her. He tucked it away before looking into her eyes and asking, “Are you okay?”

“I’m not dead,” she shrugged, wincing as her wounded shoulder reminded her not to do that. He nodded at that, accepting it at face value, before grabbing Doc Svoboda as he trotted by.

“Can we eat their rations?” he asked the medic.

“Some, maybe,” he acknowledged, “but let one of us check it out first.” He moved past them and started digging through the pile of bodies, scavenging for medical supplies.

The Paygan appeared, wearing a huge grin. “A glorious battle!” he said triumphantly, clasping them both on the shoulder. Rúna winced yet again.

“We can’t stay here,” Kai pointed out, shaking his head. “Bug reinforcements will arrive soon.”

The Ixian’s shoulders slumped. He gazed at the path ahead in despair. “Leave me,” he groaned.

“You’re not getting off that easy,” Rúna grunted, taking his arm. “Get used to it.”

He gave her an almost plaintive look.

“And now you know how we beat you,” Kai chuckled, enjoying the moment.