The jets on their mechs blasted, and hundreds of tons of technology plummeted towards the ground.

#

“What is happening?”

Volkova had been raised in the kind of environment where certain things did not happen. Voices were not raised to superiors, women did not refuse directives from men, and civilians did not refuse orders from government officials. Especially when said officials had men with guns to back them up.

And yet, outside he’d heard a very loud explosion take place that he had not authorized, either personally or through his ‘adjusting’ puppet dictator, Moreded.

“I told you, ‘comrade,’ ” Moreded said, “this is New Avalon! They do things differently here! Ever since the Corporates were repelled, there have been folks who’ve been waiting, champing at the bit for a chance to pick up the guns stored under their beds and start blasting away at an invader!”

“But we’re here to free them, from the shackles of-”

“Oh, stuff it up your red-starred arse, Volkova! Fay, how close are the disturbances to our location?”

“There is a band of approximately two-hundred armed and organized civilians. Reports are coming in of slogans being chanted that make extensive use of the Morgan name, and radio chatter continually references ‘general’ Huston and ‘general’ Austin Morgan, Viscount Moreded.”

“Blast! Alright, Fay; what defenses does this office have?”

“Unfortunately, I am unable to break those protocols without proper authorization. General Huston Morgan’s security locks are unfamiliar to my-”

“Don’t call him that! He is not a general, Fay! Is that clear! He’s not been granted that title by any rightful authority!”

“But Viscount, you were not granted your title of Glorious Leader by any rightful authority either, and yet you insist…”

“She has a point, brother Moreded,” said Volkova, smiling.

“Oh, shut up, Volkova! Or so help me, I’ll help them shove one of your stupid flags so far down your throat, you’ll be flupping cheap red dye out your arse for a week!”

“Empty threats, Brother Moreded. This is no time to panic! You rely so much on thugs, you’ve no idea about how to do such deeds yourself. My men are highly trained to deal with hot-headed rabble, and how to- how do you say it? Fight dirty. The barricade set up outside the perimeter is mined, guarded, and maintained by…”

“Brother Volkova?” Fay’s voice interrupted, “The barricade has been overrun. The explosions you heard were the mines in the street being detonated remotely through radio means and sharpshooters. Casualties of Red Star personnel are listed thus far at fifty percent and climbing.”

“But- but…but these are civilians!”

Moreded closed his eyes and shook his head. “You really didn’t study these people, did you?”

“It worked elsewhere.”

“Not here, it won’t. Fay? Are there weapons anywhere to be found in this room?”

“A quick scan reveals a hidden cache underneath the desk of Earl Texas Morgan, former leader of the New Avalon colony, currently incar-”

“Where’s the cache?” Moreded said, cutting her off.

“Look for a seam in the carpeting, Viscount Moreded. This is a standard hiding place for erstwhile goods, created by the Earl of Morgan for just such a situation as this. His personal notes on the matter-”

“I thought those were locked up? Volkova, help me here, unless you want them to turn you into a human pinata without a fight,” Moreded said, grunting as he tried to move the large, heavy oaken desk, but could only shove it an inch at a time.

“They can’t harm me,” Volkov said, a trace of unbelief in his voice as the gravity of the situation sank in. “I am only a diplomat! By law, galactic law, I am to be treated as a non-combatant!”

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“There’s no such thing on a day like this, idiot! Now get over here and help me push!”

“They can’t do this!” Volkova said, grunting as he tried to push the heavy desk, clearly unused to the kind of physical labor that was now demanded of him. “They are fighting the dialectic of history! They are the thesis, not the synthesis! This is…this is uncivilized!”

“So are those sub-zero recreational education camps you have in the Golgotha system, brother! Now, one more push- there! Here, grab the seam and pull!”

The carpet pulled up, revealing a small cubby-hole half the size of a man with several hand-held weapons to choose from. “One or two-handed?” Moreded asked Volkova.

“I- I am not trained for this!”

“Are you flupping serious? You’ve never fired a gun before?”

“Red Star Citizens are, ah, discouraged rather heavily from owning or using weapons, brother Moreded! It makes them easier to control and intimidate!”

“Here, then. Take this. One hand, see? Safety on, safety off. Someone comes through that door without an invite? Pull trigger, bam, mourners omit flowers.”

“What?”

“A funeral, moron! Did the Red Star outlaw those, too?”

“Funerals are a bourgeois means of perpetuating the myth of eternal-”

“Oh, shuddup! I asked for a warrior, they gave me a petty bureaucrat! Take position, behind this desk! Show as little of your body to that door as possible. I’ll stand here. If that door breaks open-”

As if on cue, the elevator door outside the office slid open, releasing the angry voices of a half-dozen enraged citizens of New Avalon into the antechamber Dallas had sat in a little over a week before.

“Fay, double-lock the door.”

“Yes, Viscount.”

“Don’t let them in, unless I say to.”

“Yes, Viscount.”

“What?” said Volkova, turning around to face Moreded. “Why on Old Earth would you want them to-”

Volkova now faced Moreded.

Moreded was now a dozen feet from Volkova, and had his double-barrelled plasma blaster pointed at the well-dressed diplomat’s chest.

“Good bye, comrade,” the Viscount said, and pulled the trigger.

The weapon sounded a high pitched whine as a small light of the barrel cycled from blue to red in the space of a half-second.

“What? How d-”

Volkova’s attempt at a burst of outrage was, unfortunately, ill-timed. While it had garnered significant results in comparatively sedate settings, here it only served to allow Moreded’s weapon the split-second it needed to charge up it’s load to a violent temperature, then blast several hundred droplets of superheated plasma in a close-ranged pattern roughly the size and diameter of a human head.

Under normal circumstances, the blast would shred through a half-inch wall of plasteel like a buzzsaw through toilet paper. Now, a significant amount of Volkova’s chest area disappeared, leaving his arms, legs and shoulders connected to each by the thinnest of strands of flesh as the rest of his body collapsed to the floor, dragging his head to the ground with the surprised expression still frozen on his face.

The office door dented inwards towards Moreded, who turned his head from the cooling remains of his late ally to look at the door and reevaluate his situation.

He changed his stance from one of dignified triumph to the slightly hunched-over posture of one who’d just killed a hated tormentor and jailor. He also looked at his reflection in the window, briefly arranging his features from a cooly competent murderer to one of a scared and upset victim.

He breathed three times and posed, with his gun pointed at Volkova’s body, the blood seeping out and darkening the carpet in a widening, crimson circle.

The door burst open, and as a half-dozen angry citizens of New Avalon burst into the room roaring with rage and brandishing their weapons, Viscount Moreded yelled the short speech he’d prepared in the last minute:

“Now, that’ll learn ya to mess with us, ya worthless, Red-Star collie!”

The group paused. Moreded looked them, threw the gun to the floor and raised his arms. “The Red Star is dead!” he yelled!

#

The mechs landed, hard. Dallas breathed in the air in his cabin and looked out his cockpit window.

The red tint that had colored the window and terrified him was already fading. His pater had told him about it more than once in war stories he'd told when Dallas was little.

Dallas checked the screen- yep, all five of them landed safely. Outside the window, a cool mist was settling on the ground, wish lush green and yellow plants abounding.

"Jungle- lie terrain, moisture in atmosphere close to sixty-percent. Abundance of plant life and fauna detected, primarily insect-based." Jue's voice sounded quietly through the coms, as everyone held their silence.

Then, Anja spoke, her Red-Star accent faded but unmistakable.

"Orders, boss?"

TO BE CONTINUED....