Section Leader Kenard stomped from the monitor station to the analysis console to glimpse evolving tactical readouts on the data screen. His jaw was clenched tight with tension, not from the sight of an approaching enemy column, but its ever more daunting size. “There must be at least a hundred thousand of them,” he muttered dishearteningly, studying enemy icon movements on the adjoining short-range scan. He knew he was exaggerating the numbers, but not by much.The console operator glanced worriedly at Kenard. “That’s no raiding force, S.L.”Kenard agreed. The expected Gand attack was forecasted to take place on Serus, Iddirin’s fourth largest colony. As usual, Intelligence erred big.And they think Humans are the incompetent ones. “Contact headquarters,” Kenard ordered, swallowing his bitterness. “Tell them we have an invasion–level force assembly in progress. Please emphasize that the enemy is amassing across a 500 mile front and closing.”Multi-angle monitor feeds displayed images of Gand landers disgorging a myriad of powered infantry soldiers along with hundreds of armored vehicles ambling toward the front in bubbling clouds of dust. The AV guns fired low-combustion Electro-mag flash shells. Minimum grade destruction caused by these projectiles was a collateral effect to their designed purpose, which was to short out field barriers and disable equipment. The Gand infantry, resplendent in lustrous blue sun-glinted armor and rock solid phalanxes, marched behind loosely massed mechanized units. Each soldier’s propulsion node, embedded in his armor, was synchronized to full burn.At their present speed, Kenard expected them to breach the outer Outpost perimeter in thirty minutes or less.“Activate deflectors,” he ordered an operator sitting across from the analysis console. ”And put out a priority evacuation alert.”“But...but we don’t have orders…” Dampare stammered. He was fully supportive of leaving Outpost 12 in the face of that innumerable legion, but the unilateral nature of Kenard’s decision without authorization from Regional Headquarters…“I’m not waiting for permission from the top for us to evac. By the time the Iddies make up their minds we’ll be prisoners off to slaughter or slavery,” the SL explained patiently.“Besides, we’re doing what they would want us to do anyway, the logical move at least, and that’s falling back to Valley City where we can consolidate what forces we can draw upon to wage a reasonably effective defensive effort, so let’s cut the chit-chat and move!”Outpost 12’s 8,000 soldiers scrambled orderly but expeditiously toward the vehicle hangers where skimmers, treaded transports and aero-pods awaited. A small percentage formed rear guard detachments, some manning the gun tower ports peering over the 15 feet high shimmering deflector barrier. Others proceeded to occupy positions amid the barbed tangle of entrenchments 45 yards behind the barrier’s semi-enclosure. Electro-mag shells slammed into the barrier semi enclosing the outpost grounds in a steady concentration of fire. Outpost turret weapons responded with inadequate but steady volleys of repulser beams, picking off scores of Gand infantry with compensatory accuracy.Repulser beams did not kill, but disabled by means of trajectory displacement which concentrated dense layers of focused pressure en route toward a target and applied it with such force as to knock an armored opponent to the ground. Depending on where a person was hit, bone breakage invariably occurred. Head-shots were to be avoided unless absolutely necessary. A hit to the head by a repulser beam, like a blow from a blunt instrument, had the greatest potential of killing an opponent. And a dead enemy was suited neither for sacrifice nor slavery.Not all Makir races favored repulser type weaponry. Gand rifles represented the category of disabling weapons that ejected high charged inhibitor darts. These darts, upon striking a victim, sent a current knifing to the brain, attacking the motor cortex with utter malice, shutting it down, inducing instantaneous paralysis. Bones were not broken, but the nerve lacerating effect of contact provided an excruciating equivalent.Continual bombardment sapped the barrier’s strength. Undulating tendrils of luminous static crackled and sizzled across its surface from points of impact. Energy feeds overcompensated to maintain the shield’s integrity. Ultimately they failed. The barrier collapsed, leaving Outpost 12 open like a fresh carcass presented to eager scavengers. Swarms of inhibitor darts poured into the outpost with unencumbered fury snaring droves of unfortunates, but most of the Humans managed to escape. A convoy of vehicles loaded down with the lucky majority dashed across the flat terrain well ahead of the enemy army but not necessarily out of ordnance range.Several vehicles were either hit directly by electro-mag shells or disabled by proximity blasts. The rear guard soldiers absorbed the worst of the human casualties, yet were withdrawing in good order. Those operating the gun towers rigged them with charges and detonated the static defenses upon departure, depriving the enemy of their usage.Section Leader Kenard stayed behind to supervise the final phase of the evacuation. The brutally asymmetric configurations of Gand AVs loomed like rampaging herd beasts across the far perimeter. Their monolithic tonnages disguised their very real speed in masquerades of trudging deception. A blanket of enemy infantry, massed like packed dirt, followed close behind, the front ranks firing volleys of darts with each rapid yard of advance. Humans peppered by the tiny projectiles dropped like sacks, their bodies jerking catatonically as paralyzing venom enveloped their brains, deadening the networks of impulses to arms and legs.The screams accompanying the painful onset of total rigidity receded to mournful gurgles, finally exhausted silence when the victims lapsed into unconsciousness. Attempts to carry the immobilized soldiers to safety were partly successful. The density of darts skewering the air imperiled too many of the rescuers while EMG fluctuations pulsing brightly from electro-mag shell bursts, rendered inoperable a great portion of the skimmers needed for escape.A shell erupted scant yards behind Kenard as he was leading a group toward the inner outpost area. The blast concussion flung soldiers in every direction. Kenard dove face forward, his back tattered bloody with bits of gravel size shrapnel. A clanging, snapping din overrode the general commotion of war, drawing Kenard’s befuddled attention to the sight of enemy tanks crashing through the battlements. The men around him stirred to life, those that could. A flurry of inhibitor darts tore into them sending soldiers to the ground in wracking contortions of agony.The tanks halted just inside the battered inner perimeter, their multiple turrets ejecting a mix of darts and electro-mag shells across the outpost’s expanse. Masses of infantry streamed through breaches made by the massive vehicles and spread out, their crisp formations dissolving in a mad frenzy to secure prisoners.Kenard struggled to raise himself up. His wounds pulsed intolerable fire, but the pain occupied a sliver’s worth of space in his awareness compared to the horror of a fate he knew awaited him. The Gand would treat his wounds, of that he was guaranteed. They were extremely obsessed with insuring the good health of ranking prisoners. Fit prisoners made for an impressive display when paraded through Gand cities like the prize trophies they were. And when they were finished being herded in front of teeming masses of screaming, jeering fanatics, prisoners were given the honor of being cordially dispatched inside the grandest of sacrificial temples…only the ranking ones, of course.The thought turned Kenard’s gut into a churning vat of chaos, yet his mind, clouded as it was, allowed defiance to formulate, grow, evolving into a raging determination to deny the Ravager the sweet succulence of his essence. Urgency grabbed hold of the section leader. He scrambled toward an undamaged skimmer, close enough for him to reach it in a series of effortless bounds. But his weakened condition reconfigured that effort into an exhaustive feat…an unattainable one with the squat, helmeted forms of Gand infantry loping across every area of his view.Kenard still had a tight grip on his repulser pistol. He lifted the weapon to his temple.A Gand soldier fired off an inhibitor dart. The projectile caught Kenard in the back of the thigh, burrowing painfully deep. The section leader grimaced from the impact, but still managed to trigger his pistol before the dart could work its pernicious effect. An invisible force equivalent to the velocity of a slung boulder from five yards, slammed into Kenard’s head. The smile on his face never faded.
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