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Leaders and lovers

Chapter 3

"Commander on deck!" Raymond's sharp voice cut through the air like a knife. Michael dropped the datapad he was reading and snapped to attention, a well practiced movement from his months in training. Clicking his boots together, he snapped a salute as Commander Anita strode by. Around him, he could see his buddies and others doing the same, dropping whatever they were carrying (in one case even a large metal box. Unfortunately for the carrier, it landed on his foot, although it was a testament to his fortitude (or indeed, fear of the commander) that he did not squeal or even make a sound).

Anita was a stocky, muscular figure, the bulk coming from the years of exercise and heavy load carrying. Her fur was a sleek grey, and her ears lay flat against her head, the signature of a person born in the farbound colonies, as well as the large scars that criss-crossed her cheek. They were of stark contrast with her fur, being a pinkish, slightly red colour, a testament to what must have been a horrendous mauling from one of the feral beasts that roamed in most of the farbound colony worlds. For the years she had spent in the service, she was of remarkably low rank. Raul speculated that it was from an incident he had heard about from one of his 'contacts' in the personnel records department. Allegedly, Anita had offered to sleep with a nameless general in return for a promotion. However, after the both of them had done the deed, the general had back-tracked, demoting her for lack of discipline and for dishonest acts. He had supposedly even blacklisted her, preventing her from any other promotions for experience or bravery. Michael was surer, however, that Anita's rank stagnation was mostly due to her impertinent and blunt nature. A certain subtlety in mannerism and speech was usually required for high promotions, although if Raul was right it certainly explained Anita's notorious disinterest in males.

The entire second hangar of the Ascendant was quiet as Anita strode towards her unit, highly polished boots clicking on the ribbed titanium floor. Her uniform was immaculate, her numerous medals gleaming and pinned in a (unnaturally straight) line. As Anita passed by Raymond, he seemed to take a considerable interest in the large viewing window at the top of the hanger, where a large garden planet could be seen. Stopping beside her lieutenant, she turned to face the assembled soldiers.

"At ease."

Everyone relaxed considerably, some even daring to let out a sigh. Shoulder's sagged and spines relaxed as everyone stared at the commander's brutalized face.

"I'm sure the cryo trip was completely enjoyable. I know I did. For those of you who didn't, your current tour is going to be hell compared to that. Do you know what that is?" She pointed at the viewing window, and the planet that lay after it.

A female soldier Michael vaguely recognised as being called Sazane raised a tentative finger. "Umm... Ambidon?"

"Very good Sazane, I see you watched the news." Anita replied with the slightest hint of sarcasm. "For those of you who don't know, and if you don't you are utterly undeserving of the uniform you stand in, that is Ambidon." She turned her head and stared into their eyes. "The home planet of the Separatists. Where it all began, twenty years ago."

Michael took in a breath as he watched Anita. This was indeed the planet that the Separatist war had begun from, with the murder of UCC delegates sent there, such a long time ago. The army he had joined had indeed come a long way.

"And this is where it will end, where the lives of all the UCC soldiers who died fighting them will finally be worth something. Peace. And all of you are here to help make that happen."

"But." Anita raised a finger. "As the saying goes, a cornered animal fights hardest. Those rebels living on that fortress world out there have nothing to lose. They will have no mercy, and they will fight like the rabid animals they are. That world has the largest garrison of any Separatist planet we have encountered, because it is their last. It has the most advanced technological defences they posses, because that was where they were developed. It has the most weapons and vehicles, because that is where most of them were made. And among the soldiers, the most fanaticism, because they know this is their final stand."

"And that is why I am standing here now. To say goodbye to all of you. Because by the end of all this, not all of you will be making it back home alive. Whether or not you make it out of there alive depends on you. Be careful, take cover, do what you have been trained to do. I want to see as many of you make it out of here as possible. I'm going to be down there with all of you, and I will do my best to make sure this all ends as fast as possible so we can all go home. As should you."

A rousing chorus went up. "Yes Ma'am!" They all saluted, and some cheered.

Commander Anita turned to Raymond. "Lieutenant. You know what to do." She walked a short distance to the side, and stood there with her arms behind her back.

"Yes Ma'am!" Clearing his throat, he turned back to the assembled unit. "A day has passed since all of you exited cryo, and High command has deemed that a sufficient rest period, so..." He swallowed, and laid his ears back. Clearly he did not enjoy what he had to say next. "We have our first deployment."

All of the fresh soldiers smiled happily, and Michael could not hold one back himself. They were finally going into combat! Looking around, however, he could see that all of the veterans lacked the same sort of enthusiasm. They lowered their snouts and stared at the ground despondently. Some scuffed their boots against the titanium floor, and more than a few sighed loudly. Seeing this, the smile crept off his face. They had seen more than their fair share of the horrors of war. It struck them what they were thinking.

They were eager like us once, desperate to go into battle, to take the fight to the enemy and maybe be a hero. But now they've lost that illusion. They've seen what it can really be like and they know, they know what is coming next. I've seen what it can be like myself, when I saw the footage from Chris' helmet camera. And yet...

Michael stared at the veterans, as Raymond swept his eyes over them and took in their vastly disparate responses. He ignored a couple of shouts from his squad, brushing off their excitement.

That's why they never talked to us newbies. This is not a new unit. Everyone one of the recruits is a replacement. Whenever they see one of us, they must see a friend that they lost. That's also why they never tried to make friends with us, because they know it won't last. Some of us are going to die, and some of them too. They are afraid, I can see it, for they know that their luck has almost run out.

"Mikey bro, why the long face? We going to kill us some rebels soon!" Raul's large face popped into his view, the large smile on his snout mildly annoying and in stark contrast to the mood of Michael's thoughts.

"Nothing. Just thinking." Suddenly, Raymond's voice cut through his reverie. Turning his attention back to the lieutenant, he tried to focus on what he was saying.

"We are going in for an assault on one of the main cities of Ambidon. Other units have already taken out several anti-aircraft guns while we were recovering, and now it's our turn. The primary objective," Raymond tapped momentarily on his data unit glove, and a large hologram appeared before them, depicting what appeared to be a seaside business district. A long pier and several hundred feet of beach extended in front of the tall skyscrapers. Michael could see extensive fortifications erected all around the edge and amongst the buildings. "is to establish a beachhead into this city and defend it while more ships and troops arrive. This is their largest city, so expect the heaviest resistance here. This is the main assault people, so units from the Justice and Retribution will be joining us. If we fail, the fleet is stuck until more ships arrive, so we have to succeed. Everybody will go with their original squads that they were with in training. For those whose squads have been depleted, a roster will be sent to you identifying your replacement. Here is the list..."

Michael let his attention drift as Raymond rattled on with the names. He was suddenly afraid, afraid of what he would find down there, if he would even make it out alive and unscathed. This was not how he expected his first battle to begin. He felt a strange mix of feelings, a combination of fear and a sort of bizarre excitement that he hoped to never feel again in his life.

Oh Chris...I know I promised. But I had to do something...

"And finally, my squad." Raymond's voice called him back. "Private Vaney, Private Raul, and..." Raymond swallowed and stared right at Michael, his dark green eyes boring into him. "Private Michael."

They stared at each other for a few more seconds, every body movement, every twitch conveying a multitude of emotions. Michael knew Raymond was concerned, concerned that he would lose control down there and get himself killed over his lost love.

He's seen it happen before.

Michael also detected a hint of uncertainty, and a hint of...

loving care...?

Raymond suddenly looked away, rubbing the back of his head embarrassedly. He tapped quickly on his data unit glove, and the hologram disappeared. Running a hand through the sleek black fur on his head, he sighed, a barely perceptible release of air that seemingly no one but Michael heard.

"All right people, we're leaving in four hours, so get ready, prep your gear, oil your guns, stock up on ammunition and check that your armour's software is up to date. A more detailed briefing will soon be sent to your gloves, so study that as best you can. Stay safe people!" The final three words seemed bizarre coming from a mouth like Commander Anita's, but no one paid it any mind. Everyone was either too excited or afraid to care much.

As Michael left the hangar for the armour bay, he caught a glimpse of Raymond staring at him, with a mixture of concern and fondness on his face. Suddenly, the lieutenant rubbed between his eyes and shook his head doggedly, as if trying to wake from a dream.

Michael couldn't help but smile.

Michael clamped the last bit of his armour into place, the titanium-ceramic composite plate locking into position with a hiss. It was surprisingly light for an alloy of its strength, but Michael knew that a concentrated burst would still penetrate it, and the Separatists were known to use ammunition that exploded on impact, with predictably grisly results. To emphasise this point, Commander Anita had once, back at training, strapped one of these armour plates to the carcass of a pig and shot it with the same ammunition the Separatists used. It had resisted the impacts for a while, but eventually punched through the now heavily damaged plate and ripped the pig apart.

"That." Anita had said whilst holding up the smoking gun. "Is to remind you that while you may wear one of the most advanced armours the UCC has to offer, you are not invincible. You are not even hard to kill, not even close."

"Thanks for that tasty info, Anita." Michael muttered as he attached his shield module. "We all cooked that pig for dinner, and god knows how many pieces of shrapnel I kept spitting out. Worst roast ever."

Tapping on the data unit attached to his gauntlet, he rebooted the suit software, and watched as lines appeared within his helmet, a useful Heads Up Display with reliable information, maps, counters, shield meter, everything a soldier needed to stay one step ahead of his enemy in battle. It flickered slightly as he tapped his helmet, testing it.

Vaney strode by, hefting the large marksman rifle she favoured. It was a huge beast of a thing, stretching the term 'rifle' by about a mile. She was a crack shot with it, however, once taking a branch off a tree at six hundred yards. The pouches of her armour were full of the gigantic rounds the rifle used, so much so that it was sagging down beyond her waist and she had been forced to sling it across her shoulder. The damage it did was horrendous, from the stories he had heard her tell in the mess hall. In a rather satirical fit, Vaney had named the thing Needle, and Michael had once suggested she sew with the bullets. Giving him the thumbs up, she set the rifle down beside their squad drop pod entrance and slumped to the floor.

"Look out Seps! Raul's coming!" The large wolf bounded up beside Michael. He was fully dressed in his armour, except for the helmet, which he held underneath an arm. His other hand was clutching his shotgun, a combat enhanced military model. Like Needle, it was disproportionately large, and Vaney always suggested that he was overcompensating for the small size of something else. Raul had replied that he would prove that it was equally large if she would come to his room after hours. Vaney had politely declined (if smacking his head and shouting "Newsflash! You're too ugly to fuck!" was considered polite, in a broad sense.) and had continued ribbing him about it. In response, Raul had given his gun the very unfortunate name of Penis, claiming that 'it shoots like mine, and does equal damage', although Michael rather doubted it. A large combat knife was strapped to Raul's upper left shoulder, in case he ever needed to withdraw it quickly. Michael had tried to copy his style but for whatever reason the knife kept slipping out, and in the end he had attached it to his boot. Raul had claimed it was due to the 'grace of God , because my style is too good to copy. Even He recognises copyright infringements'.

Michael stuffed his pouches full of magazines for his rifle from a large metal box near the armor locker. His rifle itself, a popular assault model, possessed the same utilitarian shape and sharp corners like his armour. UCC didn't invest too much on cosmetics. Hefting it, he checked the ammo counter and snapped it open to check the magazine within. Confident that it was fully functional, he snapped it to a magnetic clip on his back and plopped down beside Vaney.

She nudged him with an elbow. "Nervous?"

"You have no idea. Half of me just wants to drop down there and blow away any rebel I see, and the other half just wants to curl up in a corner and cry."

She looked away. "Yeah. Me too." she muttered quietly. Adjusting her position, her armour clinking and creaking as the plates rubbed against each other. "I never actually expected to fight, you know. I thought that by the time training finished the war would be over and I could spend my time policing some colony world before going home. But no, I'm actually going to fight. In what may be the hardest campaign of the war. Now that I think about it..." she shrugged and flattened her ears against her skull. "I'm scared. I wish I was home."

Raul leaned down. For once, his face was devoid of all that sarcastic humour Michael was so used to. He looked somber and serious. "Hey, Vaney. We trained for this, we're going to be all right. Let's just stick together and watch each other's backs, okay?" Digging in his pack, he pulled out a chocolate bar and handed it to her. "Here. You two share that. I've been saving it for this moment. I dreaded having to give it, because that would mean we are going into battle. But now that we are...here you go, I guess."

Vaney smiled, a genuine one for her friends and buddies Michael and Raul. "Thanks. I mean it this time." Ripping open the foil packaging, she took a bite, savoured it for a moment with her eyes closed and handed it to Michael, who also took a bite.

"Feels like a last meal, doesn't it?" Raymond appeared from behind an armour locker suddenly. He was dressed in a similar armour to what they were wearing, except that his had designs on the shoulders and chest to identify him as an officer. He held a rifle to his side and a pistol was clipped to his thigh.

They all snapped to attention, but relaxed as soon as Raymond said a quick 'at ease'. Settling down, he watched as Vaney tucked the rest of the chocolate into her backpack.

"How soon are we dropping, sir?" Raul asked tentatively.

"In five minutes, I guess." Raymond studied the watch on his data unit. "Navigation says we should be over the exact drop zone soon. I guess we'd better get ready." Stepping into the squad drop pod, he strapped himself in. Michael, Vaney and Raul stepped in and did the same. The interior of the pod was a tiny space, barely enough for four people. A large window allowed for a view of the front. The titanium walls were covered in screens and readouts, and a large first-aid kit stood attached to a corner wall. A light glowed in all four corners of the space. It was currently red, but Michael knew that when it turned green it was time for the drop. Silently, he was dreading it, hoping it would be cancelled and maybe he would get to live one more day.

The light turned green.

With a gut wrenching lurch, the pod shot off as the magnetic clamps attaching it to the hull disengaged. From the window, he could see the smoke trails of other pods as they fell to earth, pulled in by Ambidon's gravity. Michael heard Raul give a loud woop and even though regulation demanded they keep their helmets on while dropping Michael knew that behind the visor Raul had one of his stupid, mad grins on his face. He clenched his teeth as the pod hurtled on. Vaney sat clutching onto one of the safety rails with both hands; her rifle was jammed between her legs in order to keep it from flying about once they entered atmosphere. The lieutenant sat calmly, staring at the window and the hundreds of other pods that trailed smoke and flew in front of them. Michael noticed that he seemed to be wringing his hands unconsciously, however. The planet was rushing up at them, and Michael could see a bird's eye view of the gigantic city that lay before them, with its tall skyscrapers pointing up like accusing fingers.

A sudden jolt jostled all of them in their seats. Raul's head cracked against the wall behind him and he gave a loud yell. Vaney squealed as more jolts shook the entire pod, jerking them around, whilst Michael stretched out a hand to hold on to something, anything to prevent him from being thrown across the tiny space. The lieutenant looked in horror out the viewing window.

"Sir! What's knocking us about so bad? What's happening?" Michael craned his neck in an attempt to look out the window.

"Damn! I thought they were destroyed! They told me they were destroyed!"

"What? What's destroyed?" Raul shouted in an attempt to be heard over the din. Behind him, Vaney screeched as Needle cracked her on the hip.

"The AA guns! I thought they were gone! What the hell-" His sentence was cut off as the pod next to them exploded in a veritable ball of fire from a cannon impact, the shockwave snapping the restraints of Michael's seat and throwing him onto the floor. The fall knocked the breath from his lungs, and he lay there gasping, watching groggily as Raymond tried to steady himself. His armour had taken most of the shock, so he was only slightly dazed and winded from the impact.

"Michael! Michael, get up! Get up now!" Vaney gestured frantically at him, trying to reach him with a hand while she held her rifle with the other. Outside, more explosions and bursts of fire marked more lives lost as pods were hit. Most trailed smoke and bits of metal as they fell to earth, all its inhabitants lost. Michael suddenly felt a hand grab him and shove him back onto his seat. It was Raul. Giving him a quick nod of thanks, he looked around for the secondary safety belt, but it was nowhere to be found.

"Damn! Look at that!" Raul pointed out the window. From it, Michael could see a pod with a gaping hole in its side, careening towards the earth. He watched in horror and mute silence as its inhabitants fell out, several hundred feet above ground. Their screams filled their radio channel, a horrible keening sound that made him moan until Raymond shut off the squad reception.

"We're near the ground, we should be able to make it!" Looking out, suddenly, he frowned quizzically. "The hell is that?"

Vaney craned her neck. She screamed momentarily.

"Pod wreckage! Coming straight for us! Brace!"

"Brace! Brace!" Raymond shouted at his squad, gesturing frantically, before curling up in the foetal position they had all been taught in training to protect their head and spine. He only had enough time to look at Michael for a split second.

"Mikey! Your safety belt!"

Michael looked down. He still hadn't found the secondary belt. "Shit-"

His world exploded in a blaze of light and fire. Then, darkness.

Muffled voices filled his head, indistinct words that seemingly made no sense. He could hear loud thuds and a staccato crack crack crack that was all around him. And above all, he could hear someone shouting his name.

A sharp blade of pain pierced his head and side, causing him to clench his teeth in pain. He could only make out blurred figures moving rapidly across his vision. One figure disengaged itself from the rest and floated towards him.

"Michael! Michael, can you hear me? Oh god, please let him be all right! Michael! Try and get up!"

He felt a hand grab hold of his upper arm, sending a jolt of pain through his shoulder. The mysterious figure began to drag him along.

Where is it taking me?

The pain that seemed to assail him from all sides flared as he was pulled along, his head bouncing on the ground. He let out a moan.

Another voice. "He's alive!"

"Shit, get him behind cover! His armour's scrambled, his shields aren't working!" More of those cracks. Something whizzed above his head.

The dark figure began shaking him frantically while the other looked on. Slowly, the dark mass resolved itself into the wolfish frantic faces of Vaney and Raymond. The lieutenant's ears were laid back with worry, and a feral grimace split his muzzle.

Michael reached out a hand blindly, grabbing onto Raymond and pulling him close.

"Michael! Please tell me you're fine! Are you hurt?" Raymond's hands trailed all over his body, searching for wounds. Bizarrely, Raymond's close proximity and unintentional molestation of Michael caused him to become amorous. He felt a tightness in his crotch as his member pressed against his armour. He was glad Raymond couldn't feel it through the rigid plates.

Not the best time for this!

He shot up, and winced as a lance of pain shot through his midriff. He winced and felt his head. His hand came into contact with fur.

My helmet!

"Ugh...Where's my helmet?" Michael tried again to reach for Raymond.

"Here. It got knocked off in the crash." He handed the armour piece to him. It seemed intact, but Michael checked it to be sure. When he was certain it was undamaged, he locked it onto his head and slapped the visor down, fully covering his head and muzzle. Quickly, he tapped at his data gauntlet, attempting to boot the system. As he tapped, he looked around concernedly for Raul.

"Raul? Where is he? Is he all right?"

The look of relief on Raymond's face at Michael's lucidity was palapable.

"He's over there. Vaney went to join him. Not enough space behind this cover." He pointed somewhere over Michael's shoulder.

Michael tried to steady himself. His world was slightly blurred, and every movement seemed amplified to such a degree that the slightest twitch threatened to overbalance him.

"What..happened?"

The lieutenant shook his head. "Not the proper time or place." A bullet spanged into the piece of wreckage that served as cover for the both of them, close to Raymond's head. Both of them instinctively ducked. "I'll tell you later. Assuming all of us get out of this crap alive. Just so you know, you have a lot to thank for your armour."

Raising his head slightly, the still slightly groggy Michael surveyed the scene around him. The both of them were huddled beneath what appeared to be a piece of drop pod. Vaney and Raul were huddled behind a second, larger piece. All around them, he could see soldiers from his unit and from other ships hiding behind other pieces of wreckage or rocks, in one case even an overturned beach bench. The beach around them was littered with the corpses of those who had been shot down from the sky or had been riddled with bullets from the machine guns that sprayed fire down at them. Most were so mutilated that Michael couldn't recognise them as wolfkind, their blood staining the sand a dark, brutal red. There were also several corpses who were mangled from a fall. Michael wondered it one of them had been from the squad he had seen fall from their pod earlier. He tried not to think about it. Every now and then, explosions struck the ground, sometimes scoring direct hits on troops, sending them careening into the air like ragdolls before unceremoniously dumping their brutalized corpses back onto the bloody sand. Michael could still hear drop pods impacting the ground, although they were much fewer than he had expected. The anti-aircraft guns had certainly done their grisly job with ruthless efficiency.

Raymond stared at the sky. "There's not enough pods making it down. This isn't going to be enough."

Michael curled up, trying to fit as much of himself behind the wreckage as possible. He had taken a couple of rounds, but his shield had saved him both times. "How the hell did they repair the guns so quickly?"

"My guess is as good as yours. More likely they had more than we expected and they simply replaced them instead of repairing the damaged ones. Those spooks up at Military Intelligence fucked up. They told all the squad leaders the guns had all been destroyed, damn it!" Raymond slapped his thigh in frustration.

As Raymond cursed and tried to contact Commander Anita, Michael slumped down behind the wreckage. His hands were trembling and he was shaking almost uncontrollably. His breathing came in heavy, ragged gasps as he tried to calm himself.

Deep breaths. Come on , you know what to do.

As hard as he tried, he couldn't shake off a thought that kept popping into his head. He had just been shot. Twice. Not shot at, but shot. The bullets had hit him. By all rights he should be dead or wounded if it weren't for his shield.

This isn't a game or simulation. Not anymore. This is real. God help me, this is real.

Bullets whizzed past and impacted the sand all around them, sending puffs flying up. A few grains flew into Raymond's eyes and he cursed as he tried to rub them out whilst shouting at the radio. Michael grabbed the lieutenant's helmet and jammed it on his head, muffling his shouts. He could hear the loud clang of bullets impacting their cover and the strange wheeew-ffmmmpp the bullets made when they flew by his head.

"No dammit, That's suicide! No, we can't do that! We are pinned! God-fucking DAMNIT!" Michael heard Raymond shout into the radio. He could hear everything he was saying through his helmet radio, and Commander Anita sounded like she had her hands full. "Call for support from the ships! We'll get cut down! Fine! I'll do as you say and when you have a unit of corpses you have no one to blame but yourself!" Raymond cut the connection and stared at Michael with bated breath.

"I assume you heard all that?"

"How could I not? So what does she want?"

"I've ascertained her location. She's down the beach over to our right. She's saying no support is available from our ships because pods are still falling. High Command doesn't want any friendly fire incidents."

"So we're alone on the ground?"

"That's all the help from the fleet we're going to get. Information and a bunch of useless encouragements."

An explosion barely ten meters from the both of them rocked Michael so hard he felt his teeth jiggle in his mouth and kicked up a cloud of sand that obscured everyone's vision. When the dust cleared, Michael saw a medic running over to a wounded man, aid box in hand. As she was dressing his wounds however, a bullet caught her patient in the head, killing him instantly.

Michael recoiled. "Fuck. Jesus!"

Suddenly, another bullet yawned in from nowhere. Medics were lightly armoured to preserve their speed and mobility and the thin plates did nothing to stop the bullet that struck her in the head. She slumped over, suddenly boneless.

Raul witnessed all this. "Motherfuckers! Cocksucking sons of whores! Didn't they see the fucking red cross painted on her armour?!"

"These are Seperatists, Raul. They're animals. There's nothing you can do but avenge the both of them. Come on now. Focus!" Raymond shouted over at him.

Michael propped himself against the wreckage. "So what do we do now?"

"Anita's spreading the word. We stay here, and either a bullet or artillery will get us. We'll all be wiped out. So the only option is to fight back."

"How?"

"A charge."

"What?!"

"Yes." Raymond nodded. "Like the wolfkind warriors of old. It's what we have to do. It's the only thing we can do."

Michael gulped, but failed to swallow. Fear seemed to have grasped an iron grip around his throat. Finally, he managed to splutter. "When?"

"As soon as Anita gives the signal. When she does, half of us will run up to the beachhead as fast as we can while the other half provides covering fire. Hopefully, we'll surprise them enough that we can overwhelm them and make it over their defences. Once over, Anita had given the four of us a very special mission. We have to destroy the AA gun battery that's killing so many of us. If we succeed, they'll have no choice but to retreat. We'll have won then."

"Oh shit, this is nuts!" Michael was starting to panic. Raymond suddenly grasped his hand.

"Hey! Steady! You'll be all right, I know you will. You can do this. We can all do this." Having said that, he pulled Michael into a hug.

The hug caught him by surprise. It was suitably chaste for their current situation but it was something he had never seen him do to anyone else.

He cares for me.

That knowledge gave him a strange sense of bravery. He felt now like he could do anything, kill any Separatist that came running up to him. "All right. Let's do this!"

"Hold on! We have to wait for the signal. Besides, you're going to have a really hard time killing rebels without a gun."

Michael suddenly realised that he was right. His gun had been ripped off his back during the crash. His suit interface told him that it was lying a few meters out from their cover, he could even see it lying there. With the amount of lead flying, however, it might as well have been a few miles. The fire would overwhelm his shields in seconds.

"Here. Take this." Raymond handed him his pistol and several clips. "Use this until you can find another weapon. Don't forget that the rebels use different rifles from us so if you pick one of those up you'll be firing blind."

Michael nodded and accepted the pistol, checking the chamber to see if it was loaded. His HUD showed that the clip currently in the gun was full. Cocking it, he glanced up at Raymond, who was pulling the charging handle on his assault rifle.

Then the signal. "All squads, Go!"

Michael looked at Raymond. He nodded in response.

And then they were running.

_ _