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Chapter Ten

Somewhere on Chandra - Republic of Humanity Territory

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Erika Rogers breathed in slowly, watching the two cows on top of the hill—if you could call it that—as they set up their rocket launcher. Team weapons were the worst; she’d never be caught dead using one. No, give her an [AMR-14 Can-Crusher] and a pouch full of ammo, and she’d be happy—just like on Eden VII.

The cows had invaded her homeworld, too, and she’d been too young to fight back, at least officially. But it had taken three Earth days for Droppers to show up and four more before they showed up at the water farm her parents had scratched into a canyon wall. So, for that week, thirteen-year-old Erika had become a ghost living in the canyon walls with her mom.

By the time Droppers landed at the canyon mouth and a Pericles showed up to take them somewhere safe, she hadn’t wanted to go. The cows had torched her family’s farm, smashed the water collectors, and let her dad’s dreams evaporate into the desert’s endless day. She just wanted to pull her ancient rifle’s trigger and watch them die.

She tried to enlist twenty-three times between the ages of thirteen and sixteen. She’d only stopped when the recruiting officer at her Liberty school told her she’d get to pick her career path in the EAF if she quit bugging him until she turned eighteen. She’d chosen Scout Dropper and gotten it.

Now, here she was, with the cows in her sights, and she couldn’t take the shot.

So, instead, she bitched to herself about team weapons. Tying down two troopers to fire one gun, and for what? To make ‘em a sniper target? No way. If I want to hole up somewhere, it’ll just be me, my rifle, and a good hole to shoot out of. Couldn’t possibly get better than that.

The rifle’s sight drifted between the two udder-fuckers’ heads as Erika waited for the LC’s signal. Then she’d get started.

◄▼►

Kaya wormed under yet another scaled log, wiped filth off her visor, and aimed at the corner of the building where the Bonravans would appear once the fighting started. “In position. Ready up.”

“Ready,” Gonzales said quickly.

“Got ‘em locked.”

“Ammo at 53%. Ready.”

“Fire in five seconds.” Kaya punched in the [Strafing Run] code, gripped the beacon, and counted down. At two, she threw it, arcing it high over the building; it glinted in the sun that shone through a gap in the clouds.

[Air Strike inbound uwu]

It clattered onto the concrete behind the lab building; as it hit, Rogers’s rifle cracked, dropping the rocket team’s gunner. A moment later, the first grenade soared through the air with a ‘whump’ sound, exploding on impact and turning a group of blue cows into so much shredded beef.

►Strafing Run (3/4)

Strathmore’s heavy machine gun was already firing in bursts, ripping into the two Heavies. One went down, but the other spun and fired wildly. The laser sawed into Gonzales’s arm, and while the armor took most of the damage, the [GL-67 Puncher] hit the ground, and the grenade he’d been firing detonated. So did the eight he’d strapped to his chest, reducing him to pink mist.

Kaya winced, then dialed in the reinforcement code. As Gonzales fell from the heavens, she ran forward, slamming into the lab building’s side, and shot a cow between the left pair of eyes. This close, they looked even less like cows. Bullets and laser bursts forced her back behind the building, glancing off her armor and punching holes in the tin-sided building.

Hopefully the scientists are in a bunker or something.

Then Gonzales hit the ground next to his…well, what was left of his corpse. His pod opened, and he came out crouching and firing a rifle into the surviving troopers as the heavy machine gunner punched fist-sized holes into the lab’s landing pad—and the Heavies’ armor.

Rogers’s rifle cracked again, and Kaya watched the rocket loader roll down the side of the hill. A few more shots echoed, and an eerie silence descended on the makeshift research station.

Kaya poked around the corner, rifle leading the way. Nothing moved unless you counted the satellite dish that swung precariously from a single wire. She put a round in it on reflex. Once again, she couldn’t count the individual cows. “Strathmore, keep the scientists inside until evac gets here. I’m calling it in.”

“Copy that.”

“Gonzales, Rogers, keep an eye on things. Let me know if anything’s moving out there.” Kaya cleared her throat. “System, we’re ready for pick-up.”

[<3 On our way! <3]

A timer popped into Kaya’s visor: four minutes. She looked up; the massive worldship blotted out half of the sky beyond the green-brown clouds, but the Champion of Democratic glistened in the sun—though that wouldn’t last long. The tiny hole in the filth-covered blanket was already starting to close.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“LC, we’ve got a problem. Another squad of udder-fuckers, and they know we’re here. They keep moving from cover to cover and shooting into the woods. Weapons free?” Rodgers asked.

Kaya nodded, dialing up an [MG-79 Suppressor]. As the weapon came down, she said, “Yeah, light them up. Keep them out of here until our people board that drop ship.”

The timer kept ticking down, but her shoulders tightened as the seconds counted down glacially slowly, punctuated by Rodgers’s [Can-Crusher] firing and the higher, faster sounds of laser and small arms zipping overhead. “Rodgers, situation?”

“Oh, they’re overrunning me for sure. I’m pulling back and letting ‘em have the hill. Get ready.” The big rifle fired one more time, then Rodgers threw herself off the hill and rolled down the same way the rocket crew’s loader had, flopping to a stop next to its corpse.

“You heard her. Here we go!” Kaya shouted. “For the Republic!”

A second later, the first cow’s head crested the hill. Rodgers sighted up, still on her back, and fired. The rifle kicked, a gout of flame erupted from its barrel, and the cow disappeared. But three more came over, firing down at the fire team’s scout, and she screamed as lasers and bullets riddled her body.

Fuck!

Losing a quarter of their firepower right now meant possible failure, and as much as she wanted to do things perfectly, she wanted to finish this mission and get to a less shitty planet more. “Gonzales, hill, three shots!”

The grenades whumped into the hill a second and a half apart, throwing dirt and shrapnel. But alone, that wouldn’t be enough. Kaya dialed in an [80-Millimeter Strike]. The Champ’s cannons flashed overhead, and the slender shell whistled through the air on its way to…somewhere.

It wasn’t accurate, not with cloud cover, but Kaya didn’t care. She called in a brand-new Rodgers as the shell slammed into the ground.

The explosion ripped through the woods behind the hill, and something screamed as the fireball blossomed and then disappeared. The shockwave wasn’t anywhere near as powerful as the mine explosion had been, but the cows ducked their heads, and a couple looked up.

Kaya shot them both with her heavy machine gun, opening up with short bursts as Strathmore did the same.

◄▼►

Close Chandra Orbit - Republic of Humanity Territory

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Everything was proceeding according to plan.

General Cade Gorsuch watched the battle on the holo-map, feeling like a chess master as the inside of his patch delivered him all the information the rest of the bridge crew couldn’t see. Everyone knew Lieutenant Commander Cameron’s fire team was two minutes from finishing its secondary objective and seven minutes from landing in the Champ’s hangar.

But he saw something else: the other secondary objective was still in the LC’s ammo carrier. Hopefully, it’d stay there. His scientists back at Mercury Pond needed it to develop new weapons, and the Champ needed those weapons if her crew wanted the LC to become a hero. So, finishing those secondaries was in everyone’s interest, even if they didn’t advance the war effort immediately.

It hurt him to preside over shutting down the vatanium mine. That would slow down his campaign, not speed it up—at least in the short term. But if the sample-gathering went off without a hitch, his scientists could force the Republic to reevaluate how the substance’s limited reserves were used.

And that was a goal worth putting the Lieutenant Commander in danger for.

A blue flash zipped across the holographic world, and part of a greenhouse disintegrated as the Kingfisher fighter tore apart a group of cows.

It looked like the team had it in hand; their fourth squadmate had landed and reengaged from the woods behind the cows, been killed, and landed a second time. As long as LC Cameron didn’t die, the mission would be a success.

He forced himself to relax, leaning back in the LC’s bridge chair, but his right trigger finger wouldn’t stop tightening. He ignored it; once the scientists were on board and the Pericles was in the air, he could finally breathe.

He just hoped a bullet didn’t catch the 500-kilogram bomb-in-a-jar in the LC’s pocket.

◄▼►

The Pericles broke through the cloud cover, its 20-millimeter side cannon raking the battlefield, and Kaya dove for cover; their pilot was solid, but the side gunners weren’t equipped with IFF by default. She’d ask the system about it later, but she’d been negligent. They hadn’t had a hot extract yet.

As the heavy shells turned what was left of the landing pad—and the udder-fuckers on it—to paste, Kaya pointed to the mostly-destroyed shack. The satellite dish was gone. So were the transmission tower, the greenhouse, and almost everything else that looked remotely scientific. Gonzales had been thorough with his grenade launcher. “Get those civilians moving!”

“On it, LC!” Strathmore said. He and Gonzales rushed the door, grabbing the car they’d propped against it to keep udder-fuckers out and scientists in. They tossed it aside, armor servos whining, and Strathmore ripped the door open.

Kaya was too busy adding her fire to the dropship’s to check how many scientists there were. All she knew was that the dropship would be crowded.

Very crowded.

“Go! Get your worthless asses moving!” Strathmore shouted behind her. His machine gun joined hers for a moment, a long, sustained spray that forced the surviving cows’ heads down. Then he grunted.

She looked back; he’d grabbed a scientist by the waist and was manhandling her toward the dropship as others ran across the battlefield. One vomited, and Gonzales screamed at him until he straightened up, puke still coating his jumpsuit, and kept running.

Kaya stood up. The heavy machine gun shook her hands as she held down the trigger, burning through the last hundred rounds in one long, rippling barrage. She dropped it as it clicked on an empty chamber; the ship could print a new one in five minutes, and nothing it was was new as of fifty years ago.

Her pistol came up, popping a shot that puffed into the bullet-riddled hill’s dirt, and she sprinted for the dropship. Gonzales’s hand wrapped around her armor’s back-plate and pulled her in. “Standing room only, LC.”

“Got it. Where’s Rodgers?”

“Still out there!” Strathmore yelled. “She’s cut off!”

“Rodgers, get your ass over here!” Kaya yelled.

The big rifle fired, and Rodgers’s voice filled Kaya’s helmet. “Negative, LC. I’m distracting ‘em, but I’ll see you on the ship.”

Another shot rang out, and a Bonravan died feet from the dropship. Kaya nodded. The specialist was right; they didn’t have time to wait or help her. There was only one option. “We’ll see you soon. Pilot, let’s go!”

The Pericles took off as the shattered landing pad flooded with Bonravans. The entire dropship shook from the heavy cannon rippling a thousand rounds per minute of hate onto the battlefield below them. A beacon lit up next to the demolished tin sheet shack, and Kaya stared at it.

As the dropship’s doors hinged closed, Kaya watched a shell come down from the Champ, landing directly on the ruined lab. The explosion sent another small shockwave into the air.

Specialist Rodgers’s icon went red. And laser fire started bouncing off the Pericles's armor.