"Hold on!"
Jerking the control sticks, I pull the shuttle out of its dive long before we hit the ground. The disobedient machine didn't want to react to commands at all, constantly tilting left and threatening to fall nose-first, dragging our lives down with it.
Sula, cursing in the neighboring seat, was trying with his last strength to stabilize our transport, but it seemed he was only making the situation worse, as more and more red lights were glowing on the panel.
"Arkam, I asked you to help us survive, not send us to the other side!?"
"Go to hell with your jokes, Sam! This piece of junk is barely breathing!" Striking one of the dead screens, Arkam got it to work steadily... at least for a couple of minutes. Cursing and grumbling in a mix of Basic and Mando'a, he showered the poor shuttle with such epithets that even a dock loader would have been touched.
"Fuck, that's all we needed..."
"What is it? For God's sake..." Reflexively ducking as a series of red bolts roared past us, I bank the shuttle to the side, hoping only that our little machine wouldn't die completely from such sharp overloads. "Who is that?"
"Pirates... Rendilians... Judicial Forces... Anyone! Everyone is fighting everyone right now, so our shuttle is just an easy target that can be shot down with no consequences!" Connecting to the turrets, the Mandalorian joyfully pumped a fist, then plunged into the firefight with the pursuer with gusto. "Take that, scumbag!"
New sounds of gunfire were even closer this time. Plasma bolts flew literally centimeters from us; fortunately, our transport was swerving and tilting so much that any aimed fire was out of the question.
Weaving between the pirate ships and the Rendili defense fleet locked in combat, we slowly fell toward the ground, no longer able to keep this wreck "afloat."
"Unidentified vessel... Identify yourself... Unidentified vessel..."
"This is Sam Altman, commander of the Helldivers. We evacuated from the Halo Station and are trying to land on the planet along with some civilian specialists." There was some shuffling on the other side, then a much more authoritative and calm voice spoke to us compared to the first.
"Mr. Altman, we thought you had perished. A couple of shuttles with your people have already landed near us," they were clearly trying to send us coordinates or interact with our shuttle remotely, but nothing worked, "I see your situation is much worse than your subordinates'. Mr. Altman, we will signal now. You can make it... about two more kilometers..."
"I think so," with difficulty, I steer the shuttle out of the path of a Gozanti-class cruiser that was dousing its much weaker pirate counterpart with all its guns. From the strain, my eyes filled with blood, and due to the constant overloads, my nose began to bleed, "I hope so, at least."
"Good, we will mark the position with green smoke..."
****
The capital of Rendili was in flames. The remains of the planetary defense station, along with the wreckage of hundreds of ships that had crashed onto it, had turned the once-picturesque city into a scene from a post-apocalyptic world. Smoldering ruins, screams of people, and non-stop gunfire in every corner of the city.
Tens of thousands of pirates had dropped onto the defenseless city, adding to the chaos and destruction. Sparing no one, they looted and killed, filling their holds to the brim after they had emptied upon landing.
Packed to capacity with Yam'rii, the pirates had released thousands of these creatures onto the planet. Physically strong, numerous, fast, and acting in packs, these monsters had smashed through the flimsy pockets of ground defense, pouring into the distant districts of the city in wide streams.
A city burning against the backdrop of the sunset.
The sky above our heads was growing blacker. The streaks of laser bolts became brighter against it, and the numerous debris covered in flames, which had never stopped raining from the heavens, fully turned the scene into a true hell.
But right now, something else concerned me.
Our arrival at Fort Legacy was spectacular. Smoking from the nozzles, falling apart as we went, our transport crashed onto the landing pad, causing a commotion among my subordinates and our allies.
A burst of flame—erupting from the last surviving engine—only added to the problems, as frantic Helldivers pushed aside fire crews and medics, beginning to personally pull us from the shuttle wreckage.
But there was no epic reunion, as the pirates listening to our communications clearly intended to kill me once and for all...
"Fresh meat!"
Clubbing some pirate with his buttstock, Arkam spun around and opened erratic fire at enemies entrenched on the "high ground." Avoiding rare return shots and keeping the numerous Yam'rii at bay, the Mandalorian covered my left flank. Occasionally shouting rather embarrassing phrases, he was constantly tempted to break into melee, beating the crap out of anyone who crossed his path.
Meanwhile, on the right, Miranda was hardly inclined to get closer, maintaining aimed fire at a dozen shooters on the "heights."
I should probably explain that there was no actual height; it was just that one of the pirate cruisers had crashed a couple of hundred meters from us, only by some miracle not taking out the comms tower. Having fortified themselves around it, they had tightly cut us off from communication with the rest of the world, while thousands of other space thugs were jumping out of their skins just to take my scalp and hang it on their wall.
Dodging another clumsy strike, I kick a Zabrak under the knee—buckling it backward. Letting go of the blaster rifle—allowing it to dangle on the strap around my neck—I strike the horned freak's ears with my palms.
Gripping his skull with my fingers, I seize the moment of disorientation and slam the hapless pirate's head onto my armored knee, leaving bits of his brains on my plate.
"Move! Only a couple hundred meters left!" Giving the command, I press the stock to my shoulder, opening precision fire on the encroaching enemy. Laser bolts connected me to the bare-assed crowd like red streaks; they had "brought a knife" to a gunfight. Everything would have been fine if not for the occasional representatives of the bug family, of which there were actually a hell of a lot...
Dodging blades that sliced through the air, I pivot on my heel, stepping aside and trying to aim the blaster muzzle into the beast's belly. Instead, a second bug rams into me like a tank, allowing the first Mantis to land another blow—one that severs my long-suffering weapon.
Locked in hand-to-hand combat with one of the bugs, I constantly retreated so the Brute would separate me from its kin. My knife flashed before the triangular head, forcing the Yam'rii to hide behind its blade-limbs, but in the end, it didn't help him much.
Suddenly drawing a blaster, I shoot him in the supporting leg before lunging to drive the knife between the mandibles, reaching the brain. The second Mantis caught a kick to the sternum, pushing him back half a meter.
Rushing toward the stunned bug, I intercept the blade-arm raised for a strike. After wrenching it in several places with one jerk, I drive it into the Yam'rii's belly.
Letting out a mad, squawking scream, the Brute threw its head back, exposing its defenseless neck. My hand darted there, ripping out half the throat.
A squad of Helldivers ran past, one of whom tossed me a blaster stained with crimson and green blood on the fly. Catching the weapon, I quickly check its functionality before plunging back into the fray, picking off the last of the enemies.
"Sam! Over here!"
Waving to me from a makeshift trench, Arkam leaned against the earthen wall, occasionally glancing toward the downed pirate ship, from the top of which they were firing erratically at us.
More and more Helldivers gathered around, each returning fire. After a minute of waiting, the pirate fortifications were doused in plasma and heavy bullets, giving them no chance to even poke their heads out.
The grinding of a tracked vehicle echoed behind us, followed by two heavy turbolasers striking the base of the ship, attempting to collapse the strange structure formed from ship wreckage and building ruins.
"Continue firing!"
The arrival of heavy equipment—part of the Planetary Defense Forces' arsenal—allowed us to catch our breath and examine the enemy positions more closely. Even at first glance, it was clear that at least hundreds of those bastards had gathered there. Though they were quiet now, I was certain they had something more powerful than standard blasters on them...
"Commander Altman, this is the Captain of the Soul of Justice. We are ten minutes away from you, beginning descent." The familiar voice of one of the Helldiver veterans brought warmth to my heart. Smiling under my helmet against my will, I continued shooting, though I paid more attention to the conversation. "Some of our squads are already nearby; the closest will be on-site in two minutes..."
"Copy that, Soul of Justice. I want to request an airstrike..."
"Negative, Commander. The Independent Provisional Government of Rendili has forbidden heavy bombardment in urban environments, almost under threat. Knowing our combat tactics, they warned about this first and foremost."
"Bitch..." A couple of shots whizzed by, but return fire from heavy machine guns silenced the most active scum. "Then I'm requesting Reinforce at our position. We have a good vantage point here."
"According to our data, there is a communications jammer operating in your area. I'm afraid our standard beacons won't be enough to conduct a tight deployment. Furthermore, large enemy forces are approaching you from the east, under the cover of a couple of frigates. We will engage them within half an hour..." The Captain's calm and balanced voice was starting to irritate me; he had an answer for everything. I had chewed them out myself about the mountain of responsibility that fell on them along with their vessels, but not to this extent! "Do you order a deployment in a wide radius?"
"Scatter radius?" Inquiring professionally, I send a couple of men to the other flank to increase the volume of fire in that direction.
"Eight kilometers."
"Shit." Reloading the blaster, I crouch and hide in the "trench." "Hit percentage on our positions with that kind of scatter?"
"Less than ten, provided the enemy doesn't attack the pods and the Soul of Justice."
"What if we broadcast a beacon from the local Communications Tower?"
"I believe up to half of our forces could land within a three-hundred-meter radius of you, the rest within a kilometer."
"Understood, Soul of Justice. Prepare to receive the signal..."
"Get down!"
A smoking Strike Craft flew over our heads. It was unclear who exactly it belonged to, as all identification marks had burned away in the bright flames of tibanna. Fishtailing and barely maintaining a horizontal position, the machine veered sharply toward the city, where it promptly crashed.
At that moment, a couple of smoky trails soared into the sky from the downed ship. Two powerful warheads streaked into the smog-blackened clouds before diving back down just as fast, clearly intending to knock out our tank.
"Shoot down the missile! Shoot it down!"
Rifle barrels swung upward. Erratic fire painted the murky gray skies, but we only managed to intercept one warhead. Its companion crashed into the tank's turret with a roar, detonating the ammunition rack and obliterating everyone and everything inside.
The shockwave rolled over our positions, knocking everyone within a ten-meter radius onto their backs. Falling to the ground along with many others, wiping dirt and drops of blood from my visor, I was the first to scramble to my feet only to see a large enemy detachment descending toward us from the hostile positions.
"THEY'RE CHARGING!"
Propping my rifle on some debris, I began picking off the pirates running toward us, among whom were many Aliens—strong in close combat.
Zabraks, Tsurr, Devaronians, Yam'rii, Trandoshans, Yinchorri... And this entire horde, brandishing vibro-blades and pistols, ran toward us while the rest fired from the heights of the cruiser wreckage.
Emptying a full magazine into a large Devaronian, I regretfully swallowed the saliva I wanted to spit on the ground. The bastard held a massive axe, and he was protected by a dense energy shield that flickered as a hemisphere in our direction.
Smiling madly and screaming at the top of his lungs, he ran straight at me, swinging his weapon and preparing to jump right onto my head.
"DEATH TO THE ENEMIES OF LIBERTY!"
Clattering with metallic legs, a heavy walker emerged from the side, hosing down the advancing enemies with a heavy repeater usually mounted on Fighters or tanks.
Turning most of them into overcooked Swiss cheese, the Exoskeleton pivoted on the spot before opening fire with its rocket launcher and laser minigun, drenching the enemy positions with everything it had.
"We're almost there, Commander! Enemy frigates have accelerated; we'll have to engage them soon, and I can't guarantee we can deploy reinforcements..."
The decision came instantly. Snatching up a vibro-blade that had fallen at my feet, I thrust it above my head and, screaming at the top of my lungs, waved toward the enemy, being the first to climb out of the trench.
Shouts erupted from all sides. Caught in a battle rage, the Helldivers ran after me, as did the clattering walker beside me, which lunged into melee without hesitation.
"LI-BER-TY!"
"AA-A-RGH!"
Climbing over the wreckage, firing on the move, we ran up a steep ridge of ruins and trash strewn with the bodies of fallen enemies. Swinging weapons and firing from the hip, pinning the triggers down, my Helldivers ran forward—defying fear.
And our enemies answered in kind. Emerging from their covers, bloodthirsty and cruel races—those who value only strength and respect it in others—rushed to meet us, picking up incredible speed and slamming into our ranks, trying to push through.
A soldier running nearby was struck full force with a massive axe between the eyes. His cracked helmet shattered into fragments, and blood sprayed with such force it even hit me. A massive, pig-like Gamorrean wailed at the top of his lungs, throwing his hands to the sky, only to be sent flying a second later by a kick from a passing fighter.
A heavy machine gun thundered nearby. Sula ran forward, clearing a path for me, pinning the machine gun trigger and gutting enemies ten meters ahead. Shouting lofty cries about Honor and Valor, the Mandalorian looked like a madman reveling in death.
Someone's leg flew past. A Zabrak who fell face-first into the dirt caught a Needler shot to the head. A weapon taken from some pirate was now turned against them.
A chaotic pile of a couple of Helldivers and a Devaronian tumbled nearby. Holding one by the throat, the Alien had impaled the second on his horns and was now laughing, while the first drove a knife into him, repeatedly stabbing the blade into the defenseless belly.
The walker streaked past my side. Without ceasing fire, it crushed a couple of pirates into the ground with a blow from its empty rocket launcher, then spun its torso to knock back the enemies flanking it. Roaring through the speakers, screaming about Democracy, the Exoskeleton pilot ran further, paving the way for me.
My hand snaps up, pressing a blaster against the forehead of a massive Tsurr. The wounded blue-skinned freak was beating a Helldiver with his bare hands but quickly slumped to the ground when a heavy plasma bolt pierced his skull.
Another Gamorrean lunges from the left. With an axe blow, he breaks my blaster and squeals indignantly when I spin on my axis. Gripping a vibro-blade with both hands, I sweep his leg, then complete another rotation, driving the blade into his green gut on momentum, piercing it by a good meter.
Grenades are bursting all around. Several pirates flee from a grimly smirking Miranda, who chases them with a pair of knives. Arkam throws a Trandoshan off her back, stabbing the bastard with his own knife.
But then everything freezes as our walker is blown up by a makeshift mine, its wreckage halting the battle and scattering us all like kittens.
"Not everyone..."
Spitting blood, I snatch up a sword and, stabbing a couple of rising pirates along the way, continue running toward the Communications Tower looming over us like a dark spire. It is covered in soot; some of the dishes have been destroyed by stray shots or falling debris from the pirate cruiser, but it still works, still ready to perform its final duty.
A kick bursts the door inward. The cluttered room greets me with silence, which is abruptly broken by shots from behind and an attack from the right corridor.
A vibro-glaive blade pierces my armor. The sharp edge slides slightly to the side, leaving my liver intact but nearly gutting my stomach for a good ten centimeters.
An elbow strike collapses the attacker's Adam's apple inward. Intercepting the glaive, I wrench it from the already dead hands, then spin and strike the chest of a Trandoshan who continues to fire at my back with a well-aimed throw.
Falling to the ground, the upright lizard let out his last breath, but I didn't see it.
Climbing the stairs, constantly ducking and fearing every hole in the wall—for laser bolts flew from them without pause—I reached the very top, feeling bile and bitter saliva gather in my mouth, while my vision became too blurred.
Dropping to one knee, I open the PDA with numbing fingers, in a pathetic attempt to connect the computer wires to the tower. A second feels like an eternity; every moment of delay lures me toward sleep, and my left shoulder and hip burn with fire, forcing me to wince constantly despite a lethal dose of stimulants and adrenaline in my blood.
My stomach pulls downward... What is this? Hunger? Or are my guts trying to spill out through the hole, with only the tightly fitted armor holding them in place? How fortunate that vibro-blades have thin edges, otherwise I would certainly be lying there unable to stand...
"Come on..." I don't recognize my own voice. Hoarse and quiet, so unfamiliar... And an accent has appeared from somewhere. "Just a bit more..."
Entering the final command, I fall onto my back, staring in surprise at the black sky through the punctured ceiling. My breathing grew heavier. My heartbeats slowed and slowed, and I struggled to keep my eyes open...
But then the first flash streaked across the sky, followed by three more. The bright lights of pods falling to the planet were mesmerizing, but that's what I thought until, following the first four, hundreds, thousands of pods began to fall onto the planet, painting the black skies in vivid colors like a real meteor shower.
***
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