Kahim contemptuously kicked a boy his age in the chest. Over the last couple of days, he, along with his uncle and hundreds of other hunters, had already killed several hundred Balawai, shedding their blood on the lands of the Great Forests, seasoning the poor soil with life-giving moisture.
Spinning the spear in his hand, the young warrior walked around his next victim, staring intently into the terrified boy's eyes. He saw the fear, felt it with the help of the Force, and even though his uncle and father taught him not to succumb to this intoxicating feeling, he could do nothing about it.
A step closer, and his victim hastily crawled back, still continuing to watch Kahim. The small Balawai's hands slid over the ground in the blood of his parents, whose bodies lay nearby. A man in armor with a blaster in his hands who had killed several members of the Ghosh, and a woman who had been handing him ammunition. Weaklings, not warriors, accustomed to relying only on their electric toys. Unable to survive in the forests of Haruun Kal without their stupid devices, which spoiled faster than fresh meat in the hot sun.
Another step, and Kahim took his spear to the ready. He was already about to pierce the lad when another Balawai attacked him from the side, only this time armed with a power mace. A horrific and destructive weapon, capable of crushing a skull into small pieces and easily breaking weapons made from akk dog bones.
With a wild cry, he slammed into Kahim, knocking the hunter to the ground. A few blows to the head almost sent the overconfident Korunnai into unconsciousness, but he still managed to catch the moment when his kind uncle came to the rescue again.
With a couple of strikes knocking the frenzied Balawai—with mountain-peak-colored hair on his face—aside, the uncle feinted the horrific mace away, then impaled the bastard on his spear. Twisting the shaft several times, the elder relative forced the Balawai to his knees, then sent him onto his back with a kick.
With a satisfied smile, the uncle stood right over him, bracing one foot against the chest and already preparing to pull out the spear... But then he frowned suspiciously, and Kahim realized what had surprised him so much.
Instead of the usual horror, fear, or despair... the Balawai was smiling. Smiling with a horrific, frightening smile, mixed with mockery of the valiant Korunnai.
"What is so funny about your death?" — Carefully pressing on the spear to cause pain but not kill immediately. — "Why are you smiling, probably the only one of all those struck by my spear?"
"Kha... Kha-ha-ha-ha," — the old Balawai burst into a malicious, anticipatory laugh. A thin stream of scarlet liquid trickled from his mouth, and his face had already begun to turn white, allowing the poisoned blood to bloat his veins, disfiguring his face and causing horrific pain. The poison raced through his body rapidly, but the old man seemed not to notice, — "others will come... Kha... We will exterminate your foul kind... Damned murderers, grass-fuckers... This planet is ours!"
"Ha! Empty words." — Other hunters had already gathered around the uncle, which meant the entire spice-mining settlement had been wiped out to the root. Dozens, almost hundreds of warriors stood around, listening to the conversation between Kahim's uncle and the dying Balawai. — "Pitiful weaklings. You lost this war before it even began."
Leaning down easily almost to the old man's face, leaning his whole body on the foot braced against the Balawai's chest, the uncle bared his teeth in a malicious smile, showing all his contempt for the old man's words.
"This planet will be ours."
"Kha... Ha-ha-ha... No," — raising a hand, which all the hunters watched with interest, expecting anything but a finger pointing to the sky, — "it will be their planet..."
Looking up, Kahim's eyes widened in amazement and fear. His hand shook, barely holding the spear, but the presence of his older comrades helped him cope with the rolling fear.
Closing his eyes, Kahim opened them again, hoping that what he saw was just a wretched dream, an illusion from too many Kuguru mushrooms for breakfast... but no. From the heavens, thousands of burning lights were descending upon them, piercing the clouds like divine punishment.
And following them, ships were descending from orbit, their huge cannons already opening fire on the planet.
***
"It's not me, it's not me-e-e-e... I'm not a senator's son-n-n-n."
Executing a sharp turn, the Pelican transport shuttle with open sides hovered over one of the Korunnai villages, or rather the largest of them.
Along with a dozen other ships, it spun in a frantic, deadly dance, tilting one side closer to the ground.
In the pilot's headphones played a favorite song that had taken root in the Helldivers as soon as it was first heard. Cheerfully flipping toggles, retracting flaps, and preparing for the coming battle with the savages—disturbing the peace of the Republic on this unfortunate planet—Jimmy Firel grabbed the radio with a free hand and contacted the cabin.
"Good day to everyone, boys and girls. Right now, our glorious battalion is counting down the last seconds before the start of the attack, and so I wish you luck and hope that each of you kills at least a hundred of these bare-assed assholes."
Loud laughter, joking indignation, and curses directed at the pilot, who once again dumps all the work on them, were heard from the other side.
Listening for a couple of seconds, Jimmy popped a new piece of Hubba-gourd flavored gum into his mouth. A moment later, approval for the start of the operation came from command, which he joyfully announced the very next second.
"Carbine, hose everything down with lead."
The shuttle jerked to the side. Mounted on the left side, the MG-206 Heavy Machine Gun gave its first burst, then a second, a third... Until the Helldiver was seized by a bloody frenzy and he began to spray everything around with bullets, squeezing the trigger to the stop.
Nodding to the co-pilot, a focused boy who had just graduated from the academy on Mande, Firel switched to controlling the turret, then joined the fun.
The heavy large-caliber turret, with single shots, sent massive incendiary shells into the shitty little village hidden in the treetops on suspension bridges.
For the first few minutes, nothing happened, but as soon as the first breach opened in the cover, all the others followed.
Centuries-old treetops fell down under the crackle of timber and the roar of guns. Repeaters, cannons, blasters, rockets, grenade launchers—all the wonderful products of a democratic society unleashed the seeds of freedom upon this savage community, which was famous for murdering local colonists in particularly large numbers.
For almost fifteen minutes, their air wing bombed the treetops, knocking down small hovels, idols, and other barbaric shit.
"So, gentlemen. It is time." — Reaching up, Jimmy flipped a toggle with his index finger, then listened with satisfaction to the hum of the shuttle's closing side panels. Glancing through the glass, he made sure one last time that all the Helldivers had managed to leave his baby, so now he could head home. — "Excellent work, as always. Good luck out there, One-Twenty-Sixth."
Without listening for a reply, Jimmy turned the bird's nose toward the sky and cranked the thrust to full, having no intention of staying here any longer with minimal ammunition. A few minutes of thundering flight, and their Pelican broke into orbit.
The first sensation after exiting the planet's active gravity field was, in Firel's opinion, the most beautiful. Leaning back in his seat, he spat out his flavorless gum, staring into the expanse of space before him... And it was magnificent.
Dozens of large-tonnage spacecraft encircled the planet from all sides, preparing to blockade it or, in the event of an external attack, to protect the dozens of transports and carriers from the threat.
Every minute, fiery dots streaked out from the depths of the ships. Whether they were pods or shuttles, each one was mesmerizing and drew the eye.
"A miracle of Democracy," Jimmy smiled contentedly, waving off the rookie's questioning look and continuing to watch the wondrous spectacle. He had a full five minutes before he had to go for refueling and Resupply, so he could indulge in a moment of bliss. "Perfection..."
***
Ducking away from a body that crashed down nearby, Kahim stumbled and fell to his knees. Crawling a few meters, he had to dodge again as the corpse of another hunter slumped at his feet. The shot-up Korunnai held his spear in his hands. His wide-open eyes stared straight into Kahim's soul, making the boy's throat tighten.
A proud warrior of the Ghosh, a true hunter and fighter... He had fallen without even joining the fray, and for that, young Kahim's heart ached.
Snatching up his weapon, still unable to spot his uncle or his Akk dog, Kahim rushed further into the forest, hoping that at least there they wouldn't find him. Maybe there, at least, he could survive and tell the others that new invaders had come from the heavens, to whom the Balawai had sold their souls!
Veering behind a large tree, the boy leaned his back against it, closing his eyes for a moment. His chest heaved, and a tremor seized his fingers; only by gritting his teeth with effort could he steady his frantic jaw.
Pressing his spear to his chest, Kahim was about to continue his way when a pair of hunters ran out from behind a neighboring tree. Waving their arms frantically and shouting, they threw explosive berries and bile-bladder bombs behind them, but...
A burst of machine-gun fire tore through the thick trees. A literal wave of fire turned the small grove into shredded wreckage. A horrific roar struck his ears, causing Kahim to fall onto his backside, pulling his knees to his chest and covering his ears with his palms.
The unfamiliar and alien sound hammered at his brain, making his heart leap out of his chest. It sounded like the simultaneous growling of a hundred Akk dogs, but compared to those gentle creatures, the rumble of the iron men brought only fear and pain in his chest.
Suddenly the firing stopped, but the thunderous tread of heavy footsteps reached the terrified Korunnai's ears.
A few hunters who had survived the chaos waved their hands at him, beckoning him over, but Kahim couldn't move. He was consumed by terror, and perhaps that was the very reason for his survival.
First, the foliage fell. The young tree Kahim had hidden behind groaned painfully, then began to tilt forward. Driven by instinct, the boy jumped aside, landing in a pile of branches, leaves, and debris, but no sooner had he steadied himself than the tree was ripped from the earth by its roots.
Raising clouds of dust and dirt, it crashed down, accompanying its fall with a horrific splintering sound. And then...
Like the howl of demons from the furthest depths. Piercing Kahim's entire body, this terrible sound burst into the forest, scaring away birds and beasts for dozens of kilometers around.
Clutching his head again, the boy watched through the thin foliage as a metallic walker stepped through the dust cloud.
A large war machine, swinging its guns from side to side. Solidly built, almost square, the walker marched forward confidently, crushing everything in its path.
Bristling with weapons, it also had a couple of soldiers in iron armor clinging to it. Hanging on with one hand and bracing their feet against the walker's pelvis, they held rifles in their other hands, their muzzles peering hungrily into the forest.
But suddenly, the sound of a horn echoed from deep within the woods. Long, drawn-out... It seemed to challenge the steel monsters whose terrible machines wailed with every movement. A smile flashed on Kahim's face again. The first battle might be lost, but the war was only beginning!
***
"Continue unloading," I waved a hand to a soldier who ran up, then turned to the other officers gathered around. "Well then. Here we are."
"Yeah, we wiped out half of these bare-assed savages with the first strike." Arkam Sula was clearly not very pleased. The Bellicose Mandalorian, who had given his all to our cause, had hoped to fight real bastards and scoundrels who would put up a serious fight to glorify our victory. And while there was no doubt about the first criterion, everyone had questions about the second. "A great victory, no doubt..."
An awkward silence followed, but I could practically feel the Helldivers waiting for my answer. Glancing out of the corner of their eyes—and some staring directly at me—they were doing exactly what the Mandalorian was.
"Ha... For some reason, you all think this is where it ends." Turning on the holographic map, I marked all the incoming data on it. Points lit up and faded; battles were noted here and there. But for the most part, the result across the planet was roughly the same—a rout. "Destroying a few flimsy villages... Killing how many..."
Snapping my fingers, I looked questioningly at Somnia, who had also come down to the planet since the battle fleet had nothing to do.
"Nearly forty-eight thousand. Those are approximate numbers; I'm inclined to think it's ten thousand more."
"Yes, fifty thousand." Chuckling, I opened a 3D image, modeling the jungle. "Shorty scanned the planet, and having received a lot of data from the local colonists, we were able to roughly estimate the number of opponents awaiting us."
First, all the destroyed villages of the local Ghosh—or clans, in normal language—lit up as red dots. Several hundred, the largest of which were located in the canopy of massive trees.
Then, as the tension mounted, the lights began to spread across the entire map of the planet, gradually covering more and more. They moved further away from the mountains, slowly sliding into the toxic lowlands, places where it's impossible to be without sealed armor and filters.
Into that hellish place where steel spoils in mere minutes and weapons constantly malfunction.
Where Akk dogs—huge beasts resembling dinosaurs—are essentially snacks and just a small part of the food chain.
Into the place where shipboard sensors are useless and orbital shelling would be a waste of ammunition.
"Do you still consider this a victory in the war? Do you think a few bare-assed natives are all the Korunnai have? If that were the case, the local colonists would have wiped them out long ago, bombing all the known villages in the process."
Tense silence was my answer. Only now, it was mixed with anticipation, excitement, and a bit of the madness of adrenaline junkies.
"There are approximately twenty million Korunnai living on the planet right now, most of whom are ready to fight. From birth, they are accustomed to combat, and I assure you, now they will do everything to kill us..."
"Maybe we shouldn't have acted so aggressively then." Arkam was already considering options. He didn't pity the barbarians fighting against the Republic; he rather regretted such a simple and direct approach. "We could have tracked them, cleared them out gradually. I think after a few major defeats, they would have surrendered themselves. Given the mortality rate on the planet, that's a good thirty or forty years of peace."
"If only..." When most of the lowlands, except for the most toxic spots, were filled with red lights. There were many of them, very many, and the most unpleasant part was that they were deep down, hiding behind massive trees amidst toxic gases that interfered with sensor operation. "I'm only showing you their approximate locations, so bombing them from orbit is pointless, and besides, no one will let us carpet-bomb the entire planet. The Balawai would have done it themselves long ago, but their entire economy depends on the local vegetation—so nuclear strikes, blanket bombing, and scorched earth, as you all love... That won't happen this time."
"But then how... Ah, you want to provoke them? Lure them to us. So the savages declare a punitive campaign..."
"Correct." Changing the map, I opened a view of the mountains where the main large Balawai cities are located. "Our garrisons will fortify the poleis, and we'll evacuate all the villages. The local government doesn't mind stopping work for six months, so in that time, we must manage. Our task first and foremost: to hold out and anger the savages so much that they come out against us in the open. Gather all their armies into a fist and strike one of the cities, or maybe all of them at once."
"And then we use the ships from orbit?"
"Exactly. We'll lure them to where Targeters and sensors will be useful. Instead of smoking them out and destroying the forests of the entire planet—turning it into a radioactive wasteland—we'll just strike in one place... Fast and precise. The Balawai will agree to that much." Striking the table with my fist, I saw grim smiles appear on the faces of my boys and girls. "And until then, no bombings. Is that clear?"
"Yes, sir!"
Synchronously raised fists lifted my mood to a benevolent state. Though there was much I didn't like about this operation, we would execute it perfectly... Besides, the money has already been paid, and the contract for the supply of rare fruits, spices, and timber, which will soon be sent to Ukio, is signed.
All that's left is to survive six months of attacks from aggressive flora, fauna, and the wild population of the planet, every single one of whom is a Force-user and hates all offworlders.
***
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