Embassy of the Republic of Humanity

  Kovacs grunted as he dropped back behind the 1.5-meter-tall parapet, feeling the impacts of the Farian plasma bolts against his back as they slammed against the plastcrete blocks and crackled loudly before fizzling out.

  Some of the bolts passed over the edge and right through where he had just been firing from a second ago, the small plasma bolts arcing viciously as they interacted with air molecules and filled the surrounding area with static electricity.

  “Jesus, that was close!” He muttered to himself as he glanced at the ammo readout being listed on the HUD. 214 was flashing in the upper right corner, and his suit battery icon was showing slightly less than half full, with a smaller 43% listed next to it.

  He only had one last full magazine after this one ran out, and then he would have to leave his position to fix the battery pack that had been damaged before it died on him. Flicking his selector to three-round bursts, he scooted over two meters to his right and then took several short, sharp breaths before popping back up and aiming at the Farian troops still advancing on the walls.

  The damn froggies attacking the embassy weren’t as incompetent as everybody liked to make them out to be, and he used his eyes to switch the HUD targeting screen back to infrared as he stabilized his rifle on the parapet ledge before sending a three-round burst at them.

  The Farians had deployed radioactive smoke to screen their movements, and they were also firing a rolling barrage of reflective chaff mortars ahead of their advance that made it nigh impossible to see individual targets with the naked eye or regular HUD targeting lens.

  The combination of the smoke grenades and the chaff made it difficult to isolate individual Farians, and though the damned Kermits all looked fat and out of shape, they were incredibly agile, hopping from cover to cover and causing him to miss almost 75% of his shots.

  Even the stealth spy drones had trouble seeing through all that shit, and the embassy defenders had been forced to switch to infrared targeting, which was barely any better. It was the middle of the day, and the massive red giant was putting out a tremendous amount of heat and radiation that made it incredibly difficult to isolate the mesothermic Farians from the surrounding environment.

  He fired another three-round burst, finally nailing the speedy bastard he had been targeting. He threw himself back down behind the parapet again as Pepe’s friends returned a ridiculous amount of fire at his position that seemed to last forever before the sounds of sizzling plastcrete finally ceased.

  He swore loudly as he scooted over another four meters in the opposite direction, determined to make these froggies play whack-a-mole with him for as long as possible before they finally nailed him.

  Whatever people had to say about the skill of the Farian Navy did not apply to the ground troops currently coming to take the embassy from them. The Farians had already lost over two hundred troops, with another three hundred wounded, and they still came on with no sign of hesitation or breakdown of unit discipline, which surprised him greatly.

  He had to grudgingly respect their willingness to absorb the punishment being inflicted upon them as they continued to claw their way closer to the walls, and he had no problem giving them such respect as they finally passed the five-hundred-meter mark.

  Kaminski’s voice came over the command channel along with the sound of sliver rounds and plasma bolts firing in the background.

  Sector Five, we have two bandits approaching your position from the northwest, at an altitude of thirty-five meters. ETA is twenty-two seconds. All BioSynths near Sector Five, prepare for anti-air action.

  “Shit, that’s us.” He muttered as he looked to his left and right, not seeing any BioSynths near his position, only two Pathfinders thirty meters to his right and another one twenty-six meters to his left.

  The Farian snipers were damned good, and the twelve Pathfinders defending this sector were now down to seven, with Martinez and Smith having been killed by sniper headshots and the rest seriously wounded.

  None of them had any handheld hornets left on their backs, and he had used his last one a few minutes ago to take out a Farian spy drone that was observing their positions and zeroing in the Farian sniper fire.

  He called out over the open command channel for backup, not embarrassed in the least by the anxiousness of his tone. “This is Kovacs. We need help here; we have no anti-air assets or hornets left in Sector Five!”

  Almost immediately, he got a response. “Calm your tits, Mushy. I am on my way to you now.”

  Kovacs couldn’t help but laugh out loud at what the BioSynth just said over the command channel, and he recognized the alluring voice of Sergeant Durand from the barest hint of the cute as hell Montreal province accent that did things to him despite her being a two-ton fighting machine.

  Every time he heard her talking, he immediately envisioned a doe-eyed brunette with a bob haircut in a silk robe, lying on a chaise with provocative red lips pulling on a cigarette, and he would affectionately call her Mon Cheri whenever they were alone.

  She would respond to his earnest affection by either making gagging/retching noises from her speakers or by seductively threatening to tear his manhood off and shove it up his ass if he dared to defile her suit with his tobacco-stained fingers.

  He smiled as he heard other Pathfinders giggling over the open command channel at Durand's comment, loving his troops even more than he already did for their willingness to laugh even in the face of their impending doom. Durand’s voice came back over the channel two seconds later, followed by the sound of plastcrete cracking near his position.

  “I am here.”

  Turning to his left, he could now see Durand’s large exosuit five meters from his position, using the climbing hooks from her torso chassis to cling to the lower ledge of the landing so she would not expose her 2.5-meter-tall combat suit above the short parapet.

  He laughed again in nervous relief as the BioSynth deployed her shoulder-mounted missile launcher and pointed it above the parapet to the northwest of their position, where Controller Kaminski said they were coming from.

  “Sergeant, thanks for coming,” he called out to her appreciatively as her missile launcher made its final, minute corrections and locked on the two hovercopters that were now less than three kilometers away with the help of a high-altitude stealth spy drone.

  She didn’t bother to grace him with a reply as the two missiles fired from her launcher almost simultaneously, the shotgun shell-sized munitions streaking upwards before angling back down and then towards the two hovercopters at over 3,000 kilometers an hour.

  Kovacs didn’t even have time to peek over the parapet to see the results of the strike before the missiles impacted the two bandits. By the time he got his helmet camera extended to look over the lip, all he could see on the HUD were two fireballs smashing into the ground, and he joined in on the cheering of the others over the command channel for a few moments before barking at them to cut it out and focus on their sectors.

  The Farian tanks and AFVs had been holding position just over 600 meters away ever since the assault began, which just so happened to be 100 meters beyond the range of the treaty-restricted embassy self-defense artillery, and he felt his stomach knotting as dozens of them surged forward to finally join the assault.

  The treaty restrictions also stipulated the allowed ammunition and munitions stores within the embassy, which were rigorously inspected and enforced by the Farian government every three solar months.

  They only had fifty anti-armor rounds for their M350 mortars, and the chances of them hitting a target with all that shit the Farians were putting out to cover their advance were unlikely, not to mention the standard jamming and self-defense systems already installed on Farian armor platforms, which made it go from unlikely to downright abysmal.

  “Sergeant, they are sending their heavies in. Are you guys ready for them?” he called out nervously as his HUD began to display the approaching armor icons. “Oui, Staff Sergeant. We are ready for them, at least for as long as our ammunition lasts.” Her grapplers let go of the ledge, and she dropped back down the fifteen-meter height, her landing jets activating right before her footpads hit the ground to cushion her fall.

  Durand’s suit reconfigured into its anti-armor configuration over the next five seconds, a thrilling sight that always buoyed his spirits, especially now. Reluctantly, he turned back to face the advancing Farians and popped back up, sending two bursts at the froggies to remind them that he was still there before displacing six meters to the right.

  As he moved, he toggled the private channel and connected to Durand’s to speak with her alone. “Mon Cherie, I got your back. Good hunting.” Surprisingly, she didn’t respond with her usual dry heaving sounds, and he felt his heart quicken as she replied to him in an almost tender way. “Oui, Mushy, I know you do. Merci, Kovacs.”

  The channel clicked and then went silent as Durand closed it on her end, and he fell in love with the woman in his mind all over again as he watched her lope towards the wall at a full sprint with two other Biosynths. They activated their jump jets five meters from the wall and gracefully cleared the parapet in a ballet of precision before landing on the purple grass in front of the walls and disappearing from view.

  The stealth systems activated while they were descending, and he was only able to track them on his HUD by virtue of the IFF system as they sprinted towards the Farian armored vehicles. He switched the rifle selector to sniper mode and activated his suit’s stealth systems before popping back up and stabilizing the rifle on the parapet ledge.

  The stealth shroud will drain his battery quickly, but he had a good minute or two to cover her advance before having to turn it off. Switching to infrared, he sighted down the barrel and started sending sliver rounds downrange ahead of Durand and her companions, specifically seeking out heavy weapon teams that could threaten the BioSynths.

  “C’mon, you bastards! Lay down suppressing fire to cover the advance of the BioSynths in your sectors! Ten beers on me for every confirmed headshot you get on these herpes-addled, wart-covered dickheads!”

  There was a resounding war cry in response to his challenge from the others over the command channel, and he zeroed in on his first victims as he lined up the targeting reticule on a Farian heavy weapons team setting up their version of a crew-served plasma turret.

  67 meters from embassy walls, Sector Five

  ATS BioSynth, Model 7

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  Eighth ATS Tactical Regiment

  Operator: Elyna Durand

  “Watch your spacing and stay low. I’ll take the middle; wait for my signal.”

  The others signaled that they understood, and Durand’s HUD showed the two icons moving to the left and right of her position to flank the heavy weapons team setting up the plasma turret twenty-two meters in front of them.

  Right before she gave the signal to attack, one of the froggie’s heads disappeared in a cloud of purple mist, the death whistle of the passing sliver following the round less than a second later as the remaining three Farians threw themselves to the ground.

  “Now!” She hissed, determined to take advantage of the opportunity. She charged forward, bringing her heavy cannon to bear as she settled the targeting reticle on the power pack of the plasma turret and let loose a twenty-round burst of 20mm high explosive slivers.

  The pack exploded violently, tearing apart the three Farians that were still kissing dirt and sending chunks of purple flesh outwards. “Target neutralized. Taggert, take the AFV to your right. Flores, with me. We are going for the tank forty-three meters ahead of us.”

  Reaching the Farian position, she jumped over it, her recording devices showing a PIP in the corner of her HUD of the purple mess within the now smoking crater where the plasma turret and four Farians used to be.

  Landing lightly on the ground, she felt her suit accelerating in response to her neural inputs, and she smiled inwardly as she saw the speed indicator reach 145 kph. She set the speed governor to maintain that pace and not go any faster to prevent the stealth shroud from potentially glitching. Flores’s icon had been cutting across the field diagonally and finally fell in beside her as they neared the tank she wanted to destroy.

  Taggert’s icon blinked red as he reached his target, an AFV that had a squad of Farian assault troops inside of it. Durand put up a PIP showing Taggert’s POV and watched as he jumped over the AFV, his heavy cannon pumping rounds into the thinner armor at the top before spinning in the air to land facing the back of the armored vehicle.

  The exit hatch opened, the door ramp slamming onto the ground with a loud clang and revealing an interior filled with shredded Farians. Taggert fired again, killing any that were still alive before pivoting back around to locate and engage another target.

  Nearing their own target, Durand and Flores spread apart as they activated their missile launchers and selected anti-armor. The Farian tank crew, seeing that the AFV was under attack, had veered in that direction, and now the weaker armored side was exposed.

  They both targeted the aft section by the main engine compartment, and Flores fired first, Durand following right behind it. The first missile impacted, and then the second missile hit, breaking through what little armor remained after the first impact, and the tank turret blew off as the interior ammo compartments exploded.

  The low-profile turret flipped over several times before slamming back onto the ground with a resounding crash, almost crushing Flores, who barely managed to dodge out of the way in time. “Flores, target the AFV to your right. I am going for the one next to it.”

  “Copy.”

  Durand veered slightly to the left towards her new target, another AFV eighty-two meters away. She quickly closed the distance, keeping low to the ground as the Farians began to indiscriminately fire their weapons in a sweeping motion as they realized they were being destroyed by an enemy they could not see.

  She came to a sliding halt alongside the AFV and fired a long burst into the side before surging to the back and ripping the exit hatch off its hinges. The sole survivor, half buried under the bloody bodies of his now dead comrades, fired a plasma rifle at full and screamed Farian curses, the bolts sizzling as they impotently splashed against her armored torso and caused her shroud to flicker.

  Reaching inside with her hand, she yanked out the still screaming Farian and slammed him into the ground just hard enough to momentarily stun him before she ripped the smoking plasma rifle from his hand, breaking his fingers and wrists in the process.

  She curled her own finger and carefully flicked him in the side of the head, using her large, heavy digit as an impromptu club and knocking him out cold. Such bravery deserved respect, and he had earned the right to live and pass on his warrior genes to future generations in her estimation.

  After shoving him into the space under the disabled AFV, she pivoted around to look for another target. It took her a second to realize that the Farian armored vehicles and tanks were no longer advancing but retreating instead, going in full reverse without turning and exposing their lightly armored aft sections.

  As they did so, Farian troops that had been lying on the ground in shallow depressions for cover began to pop up and retreat with the armored vehicles, hiding behind them as they left their fighting positions. Watching them pull back, she wondered why they would suddenly retreat after all the killed and wounded they had suffered.

  Whatever the reason for their unexpected withdrawal, now was the perfect time to return to the embassy without worrying about enemy fire. “Cease-fire. Do not pursue; return to the embassy.”

  As Taggert and Flores acknowledged her command, she bent down to look at the still unconscious Farian under the AFV. He was in no danger of dying, according to the scanners, only moderately injured with a concussion and a few broken bones.

  Activating her external speakers, she lowered the volume and spoke gently to the Farian in its own language. “I hope you live a good and long life, brave Farian. I will not spare you a second time if you take up arms against us again.”

  Durand dropped a locator beacon next to the Farian to alert his comrades to his location and straightened back up, quickly scanning the area to make sure the Farians were still retreating before turning back towards the embassy and heading for the walls in a loping gait.

  The answer to her question as to why the Farians had suddenly stopped attacking was answered a moment later as she saw hundreds of fireballs appearing in the ruddy sky above the embassy, her HUD identifying them as friendlies from the 101st Airborne and the 10th Mountain Division.

  The Republic was here, and she added her own war cry to the others now flooding the command channel as the embassy defenders saw their avenging angels falling from the heavens.

  Faria Prime

  Sklanak District

  1,358 likals from the capital

  Force leader Jarlit stared at the back of the Fourth Prime’s head in shock, sure that he had misheard the countermanding orders he was just given.

  “Fourth Prime, I heard the initial orders with you. We were ordered to stand down or be flayed for treason against the king by the First Prime himself—”

  The Fourth Prime slowly turned around to face him, and he felt his stomach clenching as he saw the wide smile on the Fourth Prime’s face underneath eyes devoid of emotion. “I have received a new set of orders from the First Prime. The king has decided, after all, that the honor of Faria demanded we respond to this affront. You will order the air defense batteries to fire on the landing forces, or I will have you flayed for cowardice in the face of the enemy!”

  Jarlit wilted under the accusation of cowardice, and the Fourth Prime casually tossed the datapad he was holding in his right hand onto the desktop between them with a loud clatter.

  “See for yourself, Force Leader Jarlit.”

  Jarlit leaned forward and picked up the pad with a shaking hand before looking closely at the screen and quickly reading it three times to verify the legitimacy of the new orders. The proper codes and order procedures were there, as were the DNA verifications of the higher-ups proving the orders went down the proper chain of command to the Fourth Prime.

  He instinctively felt the orders were faked, but that was not possible considering the security protocols put in place to prevent such an occurrence from happening in the first place.

  The king’s control over the military was absolute, and the First Prime was the king’s proxy in all things, which meant the orders were legitimate if they came directly from him as verified by the pad.

  “I will obey, Fourth Prime.” Jarlit said with far more conviction than he felt before thumping his chest in proper deference and hurrying out of the command center to carry out the new orders.

  The feeling of being misled pervaded his mind and spirit, and he tried his best to ignore it. Perhaps he was a coward after all, like the Fourth Prime had said he was, and he was just feeling fear instead.

  He hopped quickly to the nearby air defense command center and croaked loudly to get everyone’s attention as he entered. “We have received new orders from the First Prime. Target the invaders and shoot them down, now!”

  All the technicians and operators froze, staring at him in disbelief for several solar seconds before he roared at them to do as he commanded. They sprang into action at that and began to activate the complex anti-air systems to follow their orders and defend Faria Prime.

  The feeling that he was following illegal orders grew stronger, and he could see that the others felt the same way as they gave each other furtive glances filled with fear and resentment.

  They had all seen the two Ma’lit dreadnoughts in the system on the sensors, and they all heard the broadcast from the honored elder threatening to punish them if they dared to attack their human allies.

  “Ready, Force leader!” his sub-leader called out in a trembling voice. Jarlit, upon hearing those words, felt the past, the present, and the still yet unhappened future being compressed into a critical inflection point, and he knew the choice he made now would forever change the fate of his people.

  “Fire.”

  Ma’lit Scout Ship—Watcher of Tril’fir

  Polar orbit of the third moon, 328,272 likals from Faria Prime

  Hreth’nir felt a rage it had never experienced before welling up within as it watched hundreds of the sons and daughters of the Magnati being shot out of the sky as they dropped through the atmosphere, risking their lives to liberate a world from the clutches of evil.

  Its precious kin-children were being murdered before its very eyes in defiance of the Ma’lit Domain, and the exosuit hands closed and opened several times in response to Hreth’nir’s desire to punish those who dared defy it.

  Activating the neural command implant, Hreth’nir joined with the companion AI controlling the dreadnought positioned at the L1 Lagrange point, and it allowed the AI access to its feelings and thoughts, conveying Hreth’nir’s intentions and desires to the companion in mere milliseconds.

  ~ I understand, my liege. ~

  Make them pay for killing our kin-children, my companion. Go and avenge the sons and daughters of the Magnati who are being betrayed by those they mean to liberate. Anyone who raises a hand against them shall be destroyed. Any who obey and do not raise a hand against them are to be spared.

  ~ As you command, so shall it be done, my liege. ~

  Go, my companion.

  Hreth’nir turned back towards the viewer at the noises being made by Ambassador Skarl, the first signs of consciousness returning to him since he had collapsed on the panel. Moving the exosuit forward to assist him, Hreth’nir accessed the Farian databanks for information on how best to help the ambassador return his inverted stomach back to where it belonged.

  There was a distressing lack of information on the subject, and Hreth’nir wondered what to do as it finally reached the ambassador and gently placed the suit hands on Skarl’s back. Skarl moaned at the touch, his eyes still closed, though they were starting to weakly flutter.

  “Ambassador Skarl, I am here.” Hreth’nir said softly, careful to modulate its speakers to the appropriate volume for the situation. Skarl moaned again, and his eyes finally began to open, revealing glazed pupils that seemed to not be focused on anything.

  Hreth’nir gently shook the ambassador’s back, hoping the stimulus would encourage him to recover faster as it looked back at the viewer to monitor the response of the Farian navy to the dreadnought's actions.

  Companion had already released all the destroyers contained within, and they were now taking up an overwatch position over the Farian ships as the dreadnought headed for the planet. So far, the Farian ships near the planet and the Farian ships in the outer system have obeyed, and it prayed they continued to do so as the weapons ports on the silvery hull of the dreadnought began to deploy.

  Hearing wet sounds, Hreth’nir directed his lenses at the source and saw Ambassador Skarl feebly trying to push his stomach back into his mouth. A shiver of revulsion passed through Hreth’nir at the thought of having to touch the wobbling mass of digestive tissue, and it forced itself to ignore the feeling and assist the ambassador.

  Hreth’nir turned off the speakers and groaned loudly in disgust as the sensors of his exosuit hands felt the slick texture and jiggling of the Farian’s innards while he carefully assisted the ambassador.

  The loud gagging and retching of the ambassador triggered a sympathetic reaction in Hreth’nir, and its own bile rose up in response to the sickening experience. With a final disgusting slurp, the ambassador finally got the stomach back down, and he visibly shook as he leaned on the console, gasping from what was surely an uncomfortable experience.

  Hreth’nir turned its attention back to the viewer as Companion settled into orbit and asked for final verification to fire on the surface. A momentary hesitation came over Hreth’nir, unsure if it was making the right decision.

  A moment later, all doubt was burned away by a rage that demanded to be satiated as another thirty-three of its kin-children were shot down, their life signs disappearing from the sensor network.

  Do it, Companion. They must suffer the consequences of daring to defy the Ma’lit Domain.

  ~ I understand, my liege. ~

  On the viewer, dozens of weapon ports activated, the invisible particle beams only able to be seen by the ionization of their passage through the atmosphere before thermal blooms appeared on the sensor networks.

  Within three seconds, over twenty-seven Farian military targets were destroyed, simply vanishing under the violent onslaught of the subatomic particles smashing into them. Hreth’nir heard the ambassador moaning with grief, and it ignored him, not willing to allow compassion to sway it from the decision already made.

  “No... please, Honored Elder! Please don’t do this to us; you know we are innocent!”

  Hreth’nir ignored the desperate pleas of the ambassador, a stone forming where its heart used to be as it watched more of its kin-children being shot down.