Twin suns of Carrola (Starshatter Book 2)
Page 18
Serves you right, defective client of barbarous patrons! No longer will you oppose your betters.
He calmly closed at a distance of twenty feet, stopped, and after a few more seconds decided to switch weapons. There was no point spending expensive needle ammunition. Those captured human weapons were top of the line, yet unfortunately crafting ammo for them was also incredibly hard, let alone purchasing the pricey, full mags. The logistics behind supplying a team fully armed with looted Terran weaponry, was mind-boggling.
By the Steps! He was a taz’aran, not some idiot. A pistol shot to the head had to be enough. His target was after all, one small, paralyzed rodent.
Shouldering the sniper, he reached for his sidearm and pulled it only half way, before the seemingly paralyzed bunny suddenly sprang into action! With shaking paws, she desperately lobbed a grenade at him. Reflexes didn’t help. Trying to leap back, the sniper tripped over some tree root, which he could swear was not where he had walked beforehand. Last thing he saw was a bright flash before a fiery explosion engulfed him.
His smoldering body, littered with shrapnel, landed beside the bunny’s feet.
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Lilly almost choked to death before her armor’s integrated medical system automatically administered the proper dose of antidote. Her heart was racing like a thousand grav-bikes! On her knees, she opened the faceplate with shaking paws, taking deep, painful breaths. The stench of burned taz’aran flesh made her puke, and with wobbling paws Lilly tried grabbing the sniper rifle rolling in the mud beside her. Managed, yet only after the second try. Unfortunately, hit by a stray shrapnel, its spare mags had exploded damaging the commando’s equipment beyond salvaging. Ammo counter showed nine shots left in its mag and Lilly sighed.
Thankfully, the two other bodies weren’t shredded to pieces. Lilly pilfered some of their stuff, mainly their PDA data crystals, both of which she slid into her own device. Lilly’s OS had a special decrypting program she’d installed earlier this month. Hopefully it could break through the tazzie commando encryption. If she could access their combat plans, comms frequencies and background data-streams, Lilly was sure that Cat could use them in her tactical assessment. In the distance she heard another loud thump, unmistakably mecha, no larger than a PA. Came from the direction where Brynjar’s position was and Lilly hurriedly continued searching, picking one drone that she could use for fashioning a trap for the tazzies.
She had plenty of food, so the rations were not needed, yet, the survivalist in her automatically stuffed one of their now emptied backpacks with rations, med-packs, and hid it inside a hollowed tree nearby.
Better safe than sorry.
At least she had enough spare power packs for her carbine – during that gunfight the loaded pack was completely slagged and she quickly reloaded a fresh one. Rushing to check the other two bodies Lilly stumbled and almost fell, barely regaining her balance and with sight still hazy, her shaking paws rummaged through both soldiers’ belongings. The one whose stomach she’d blown wide open stank to high heavens and she puked what was left in her guts out. She then got to the DMS bunker entrance only to find out that all other traps were either disabled or tripped. Nature had already taken her due and what was left of the taz’aran star trooper corpses were non salvageable pieces of equipment. And bones, lots of rotting bones. So the bunker wasn’t breached during the invasion itself. It was clear that had happened about a month ago, since the rate dead bodies decomposed in the jungle and were devoured by local critters was quite rapid. Out in the fields they would’ve mummified rapidly, yet here, the lingering stench of rot was prevalent enough. A swarm of tiny critters scurried away from the little husks made up of broken spacesuits and bodily remains.
Two weeks. Lilly gave the bodies two weeks. No matter what had happened to the equipment – it was probably a unit left over, hiding deeper in the jungle. They wore the same bulky spacesuits, the better part of their useless armor plating stripped from them. The disastrously designed laser rifles were nowhere to be seen, taz’aran troopers carried particle-beam snub guns. All broken now. The more Lilly inspected their remains, the more she thought that this was some type of a personal retinue unit. Probably the local commander’s own guards whom he had sent into hiding, instead of letting the fools meet their doom by the hands of Colonial star marines. Either that, or he wanted to secure the downed colonist transport in one last, desperate effort to save his family’s honor.
Lilly stopped for a while, examining the DMS assembly. The taz’arans had blasted their way through its megasteel cover using a demolition charge, and then pilfered the entire module! Something scurried before her feet and Lilly slowly lowered her eyes. One of the local carrion eating lizards was desperately struggling to pull the ribcage of the closest trooper apart. It was probably trying to reach the bone marrow inside. Lilly looked at it carefully using her goggles and noticed that in fact, the lizard was a she, and very pregnant. In the bunker’s furthest corner she remembered, there was an unfinished service crawl. The scientist in her carefully pulled what was left of the corpse towards it, and then sliced through the center of the ribcage with her vibro dagger, rearranging parts of the soldier’s broken spacesuit around. She then quickly exited the bunker, almost running towards the distant explosions.
Tired, the little lizard didn’t hiss at her, she didn’t even bare teeth at the bunny. As if the critter had somehow understood – this creature, smelling of blood, tears, and metal was not a threat. The big one moved away and she rushed toward its food, little pointy teeth sinking into bone, mouth sucking the delicious treat inside. Much later, after her offspring emerged into the world hissing, stumbling and blind, they too ate. The lizard slithered her body next to an elongated piece of metal, and coiled around it.
It was the leg of the very corpse she and her children feasted upon. Beneath the sole of its boot lay the crushed skeleton of her mate, and she gingerly probed its head with her nose, reassuring herself for one last time that he was gone forever...
Chapter 8
Sword of Vengeance
Dozan was slowly being surrounded from all sides. That was good. The fools were creating a target rich environment, their section leaders arrogantly pushing them to attack. After Cat had masterfully nailed the closest taz’aran AFV, they had to separate their forces. Then again their enemy had to do the same themselves, since their machines couldn’t climb out of the gorge they had driven into. It was because of those annoying magnetic anomalies, and he congratulated Cat in his mind for utilizing the information she received from Lilly. Dozan could hear a cannonade of heavy fire coming from the other side of the gorge, with sounds from both beam and railgun weapons.
Someone was screaming in fringe speak for her mommy.
His almost glowing eyes looked down the sights of his Beretta and clicked the selector to full auto. A morale officer of the Imperial Minarchy was to be a shining example for others to follow. Then again, they were also a presence that caused their enemy to run, cowering with fear! He filled his lungs with air and then roared:
“Witness me, for I am Fear! You who exploit others, invade and plunder their worlds, and enslave the innocent – your fates are sealed! From the moment you came here, to this world, where your peers died trying to occupy. Rest assured, you rotting corpses will feed Carrola’s trees, taz’aran filth!” – before finishing his devastating battlecry, Dozan had already targeted a couple of nearby troopers.
Bravely he strode towards them, his long Kil’ra legs shortening the range before Dozan pressed the trigger. His snub railgun unleashed a fiery fusillade of armor piercing projectiles, and against them the light field armors that his enemies wore were all but useless. Five more mangled corpses hit the ground, their blood seeping into Carrola’s soil. The remaining soldiers leaped for the nearest cover and returned fire with shaking hands. The Kil’ra was so close that he could pick up their panicked shouts – they were callin
g for a mortar strike. He laughed! So they chose Death by point-blank fire.
With a quick, well trained motion, Dozan reloaded the weapon, his slagged, smoldering power pack hitting the ground, while he directly ran towards the already panicked troopers screaming:
“Try and kill me!”
Actually, the star troopers were properly equipped for this terrain, and the suits they wore did not hamper movement much. And so they quickly ran, firing back at him haphazardly with their particle-beam rifles, able to land only but a few, glancing shots on his armor. Dozan suddenly stopped, turned around and ran back, attacking those who followed in his steps. The section was met with another barrage from his Beretta. At point-blank range its pellets shattered the armorplates that their suits were reinforced with. Jagged, thin pieces of polysteel flew left and right, increasing the number of wounded, whom, of course, he left unmolested to litter their comms with screams of anguish and pain, begging for aid.
He quickly unholstered his Walter sidearm, letting the snub railgun cool down a bit, after all that punishment he’d put it through.
Blue laser beams finished the other three taz’aran star troopers who were still up and tried resisting him. Their section leader actually put up a fight, landing two shots in his chest armorplating, before Dozan sliced his legs off. Taking cover behind a rock, he quickly reloaded both weapons, mag-locked the Beretta on his back and Walter in hand rushed towards the gorge. He was left with only two spare quick-paks for his snub gun, and it was better to save them for a later moment in time.
The Walter M91 was the laser pistol that he originally chose for his sidearm, yet back then, he had no means of upgrading it. One nice, little old lady from Cav colony, was kind enough to donate to him a more than modest sum of credits that he instantly spent on improving his weapon. Dozan quickly outfitted it with an overcharge module, replaced the factory made heatsink, and modified it to use dual power-packs. Honoring the generous citizen, Dozan christened his pistol “Muriel” and etched the name on its handle with beautiful Gothic letters. Following his Code, the morale officer recited the names of those citizens of the Minarchy, who had gifted him with arms and equipment before battle. It was through their generosity that others were protected, lives saved and enemies of the Imperial Minarchy vanquished. Enemies who’d otherwise eventually harm those who could not defend themselves, elsewhere in the Galaxy.
Another section of troopers was deployed to face him. This time the cautious taz’arans were slowly making their way around him using cover, taking pot shots from afar. They were actually trying to flank him, and would’ve successfully pinned him down, had he decided to take the fight. Cat’s strategy wasn’t relying on him staying in one position and facing wave after wave of enemy soldiers, but moving around the battlefield, keeping the enemy off balance. So he did exactly that; darting back toward the gorge, Dozan found the pillar of smoke coming from Cat’s first target still obstructing the cliff’s edge. Running towards it, he noticed one of the AFV’s, grav engines screaming on full power, trying to lift itself directly up flying over the ridge. Instead of bypassing the smoldering wreckage, its commander was risking his vehicle’s power plant, yet if successful, his ballsy move would land him directly behind Dozan’s friends.
He doubled his speed and leaped from the gorge’s edge landing on top of that vehicle, hand grabbing the edge of its opened command hatch. Dozan suddenly found himself face to face with the AFV’s commander, who, instead of panicking, unsheathed his vibro dagger and punched the Kil’ra. Almost losing his footing, Dozan slid over the upper armored hull of the AFV unleashing a couple of laser beams, which the taz’aran skillfully dodged by ducking behind the raised armored hatch. All shots harmlessly bounced off the thick AFV’s armorplating.
Perceptive!
The man then leaped out, and masterfully balancing, reached Dozan, dagger swinging at his head. While the grav-engines were screaming, overtaxed, trying to battle the lower magnetic field of that gorge, hot air blowing from their exhaust; both fought in close combat, exchanging punches, kicks, and occasionally trying to trip each other. The taz’aran was a hardened veteran, as Dozan soon found out. The man was much more experienced than him and wielded his dagger with great finesse. Although weaker physically, the difference in battlefield knowledge was apparent, and Dozan began losing pieces of his uniformed armor, blood dripping from his multiple, small wounds. There was no chance in hell he’d risk unsheathing his sword – that officer was so apt at predicting his movements that at best he’d receive yet another heavy wound, or worse, get stabbed in the throat! Instead he switched his grip over the Walter and used it to parry some of his enemy’s blows. Meanwhile the AFV pilot was almost finished with his maneuver; the machine, grav-engines loudly screeching, was ready to land on the other side.
Mind racing, Dozan pushed himself to the brink in an effort of finding a way to victory.
“I will not fail my friends, taz’aran! Do not think that you’ve won, I can still stand my ground.” – shouted Dozan in the officer’s face as he managed to block one particularly deadly swing, dagger pointed at his left eye.
“It is pointless to resist me, Kil’ra. Your death is just a matter of time.” – responded his opponent with a calm, raspy voice. He then unleashed a flurry of lighting fast attacks, swinging, slashing and stabbing at Dozan and while the Kil’ra was staggering back, shouted a command in his comms:
“Gunner, swivel the turret half left!”
Suddenly, the whole length of the particle-beam cannon was racing at his torso, the taz’aran soldier effortlessly ducking behind it. The cannon hit him and only by virtue of his race’s lightning reflexes could Dozan grab its barrel, both feet now dangling in the air. A swift fall to the ground below, which was probably sixty feet or more, would guarantee his all but instant demise. Not willing to lose more time and perhaps deciding to play it safe, the enemy officer backed away shouting another order:
“Fire the main cannon now, gunner!”
Dozan was barely gripping the nozzle of their particle cannon, and with his steel-like muscles strained to the max raised up his other free hand, in which he still held the Walter. Noticing where the Kil’ra was aiming, his enemy snickered for just a second, before his entire head evaporated, hit by a laser beam. Dozan was aiming for that same opened armored hatch, since he remembered what had happened before, and using his race’s superior awareness landed the tricky shot exactly on target.
Yet, there was no time for jubilation. The cannon’s capacitors fizzed, its barrel suddenly heated up burning part of Dozan’s flesh and the sleeve of his uniform. Screaming, the Kil’ra somehow managed to swing his body while falling down, and grabbed one of the grav-engine exhausts, again using his free hand. His entire body shook from the immediate energy discharge.
The troopers who were making their way down beneath him in the gorge looked up terrified, seeing the Kil’ra aiming his pistol up. Dozan switched from normal to overcharge fire, body shaking and twitching, he let loose his last shot directly into the vehicle’s unarmored grav-engine exhaust. Engine power lost, the AFV’s hull, engulfed in flames, shook violently. For a second one could hear the terrified screams of its crew, before the machine dropped down like a rock...
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Vasilisa was slowly crawling, particle beams hitting the ground around her. The side of her helmet’s armorplating was hit by a sniper and she cursed all the comets, asteroids and whatnot, while shooting back with her Winchester. Somewhere close a flanking star trooper fell, his entire upper torso shredded by the hail of pellets. Vasilisa’s faceplate showed ’weapon empty’ in red letters and her integrated PDA listed what was left of the weapon’s power packs. Only two spares left! Beside her, Cat was preparing to lob another of her grenades and she murmured in their comms:
“Cat, can you grenade that annoying sniper, please? I think I saw her slithering behind that rock – over there!” – Vasil
isa’s attempt to point her finger at the sniper’s probable location drew yet another pinning barrage of particle beams.
The bastards were cautious!
After their first run in with a Spacer, who used the superior movement of her spacesuit basically dancing around&through their lines shooting everybody in the ass, the taz’arans weren’t taking any chances. Every time when Vasilisa left her cover she was met with whatever sporadic or not that accurate, yet annoying weapon fire that nearby troopers could shower her with. She soon realized that in that situation that the all powerful Winchester shredder rifle was probably not the best weapon of choice. A laser rifle perhaps? She had to get something else otherwise next time... well, there might just not be a next time.
Her commander’s arm moved with a speed that was unattainable to her as a human being without the assistance of an exoskeleton. Gorillas were multiple times faster and stronger than their Patrons. Grenades thrown by Cat were flying almost like boulders launched by an ancient ballista. In effect, she was a living, breathing mortar team of one.
“Yes, I saw her!” – Cat’s grenade exploded in the air above her target. Both women heard their enemies’ screams and then saw them walking, burning bright like torches that eventually fell dead to the ground.
“Move to the next position, quickly, before they can pin us again!” – Cat shouted, darting ahead, she reached for another missile. Confused for a bit, their enemies soon gave chase showering them with particle beam fire. Both Terrans took cover behind the trees on the hill nearby and started quickly climbing toward the top. Suddenly the ridge was splattered by a devastating mortar barrage and vanished, consumed in plasma fire.
“We need to get those mortar teams!” – Cat screamed over the comms and pointed at the next hill to Vasilisa – “My scanning goggles registered the mortar’s muzzle-flash coming from there. If you can give me an accurate scan and visual lock-on, I can land the missile on top of them!”