"Give me light!" Their defensive sector was closest to the cursed mountain, and when the sun hid behind it, they were the first to find themselves in the pitch darkness for which this cursed moon is famous. "Yellow, at ten, right above us!"
Without turning, Sharous raised his rifle, opening a hurricane of fire on the hordes of the advancing enemy. The armor's auto-sights jumped like crazy, trying to keep up with the bursts of blaster bolts flying into the crowd.
A rustle came from behind, and the mighty "Paprika" stood beside him. Bracing himself on a forward-thrust leg, he sharply raised his hand with a flare gun, sending a blazing yellow rocket into the dark sky.
With a thunderous pop, it burst apart, and soon a dozen small lights hovered over the ancient trees, illuminating the area.
- "Fire on the bastards! FIRE!" The autocannon thundered. Positioned in a small hollow among massive rocks, it simply fired in a straight line, creating a lane through the hundreds of bodies closing in on them. "Myrkr, what's the status on comms?"
Before he could hear the answer, Sharous ducked to the side, taking cover from the enemy's heavy fire. Several rockets with animal feathers and tails tied to them flew overhead. And following them came powerful streams from repeaters, accompanied by blasters.
Several large chunks of wood were blasted out above his head, forcing Sharous to crouch even lower. A pair of large rocks were riddled with shots, melting the ancient layer of stone and leaving a veritable cratered wasteland on its surface...
The roar of an Eagle's engines drowned out everything else. The machine slipped effortlessly between the treetops and, in a low-altitude pass, dropped a dozen little gifts right onto the front lines of the Yinchorri. The flames leaping into the sky singed the treetops, while also igniting the few branches that had survived hours of shelling.
The roar of explosions could not drown out their deafening cries of pain and rage, but "Beacon" simply liked that so many freaks had died at once. Grinning crookedly under his helmet, Sharous reloaded the underslung grenade launcher of his rifle and, peeking slightly from behind the edge of cover, sent a gift with a thermal detonator into the lizard horde.
"Scum of the cosmos..."
An explosion sounded a hundred meters to the left. A powerful blast from several detonators at once brought down a massive tree, which crashed down with a disgruntled crack, crushing a dozen Yinchorri.
But the Helldivers were not without losses. One of the soldiers was flashing yellow, indicating a light wound; a second had already gone dark, marked in red—certain death.
But to keep a goddamn red tag from hanging on his own somber face staring from the helmet screen, Sharous emptied half a tibanna cartridge into the crowd.
Grimacing at the sight of hundreds of these freaks climbing almost over each other's heads to run toward them, hoping to be the first to reach their coveted enemies, Sharous pulled the last beacon from behind his back. The cipher, memorized by heart, bounced in a continuous dance. Only occasionally peeking out from behind the trees and listening to the cacophony of war, Sharous periodically fired his rifle, driving off the most persistent and large Yinchorri individuals.
"A-A-A!"
A scream erupted from the side, and a red cross struck through the portrait of one of the Helldivers on the helmet camera. Before Sharous could even read his name, the screen of a second went dark next to the first, followed immediately by a third...
"Motherfucker!" Not a second had passed before a dense stream of incandescent plasma struck the position of the third squad. Slow for space combat, it was perfect for planetary bombardment, and now this monstrous weapon was hitting their positions—incinerating the giant lizards that had broken through.
Throwing up their arms in a final, agonizing second before death, the Yinchorri fled in terror from the beam crawling toward them. But while it was slow for space, on a planet...
With a malicious smirk, Sharous saw off a xeno burned alive, who turned into a pile of ash and shit on the parched earth.
"Filthy creatures," he wanted to take off his helmet and spit on the ground, but the Jabiimite hadn't gone quite that mad from the call of Democracy yet. So the man merely laughed one last time, glad they had managed to kill so many monsters at once.
"Commander, the freaks are retreating," the satisfied Myrkr appeared beside him as if out of thin air. Always grinning and joking, he was now trying to appear serious, but habit and nature took their toll. "And there's still no contact with the boss. The Virulence said they're having constant interference too..."
"Then why the hell are you happy?" Clearly not sharing the subordinate and friend's excitement, Sharous stood at full height, stretching his stiff back and checking his body for new bruises. "That means..."
"That means!" Pointing a finger instructively in front of his face, "Reed" turned to the other Helldivers pulling up to them. The conspiratorial whisper suited him well; one almost wanted to agree to whatever mad venture this rogue proposed. "That it's just us and a small ship. Against an entire army of Yinchorri!"
"Eight of us against a hundred and fifty thousand?" Looking over everyone gathered, Billy Booker hoisted his autocannon onto his shoulder. Even for a Helldiver, the veteran was not small, and with this contraption in his hands, he seemed a veritable giant. "Heh-heh... They don't stand a chance."
****
"Whew, it's been a long time since I've seen such large armies in an open field..."
Sitting on the edge of a cliff, absolutely unafraid of being spotted, Salco Sharous held binoculars to his helmet, connecting them to the armor's systems. The high magnification brought it sharply closer, literally throwing him onto the streets of the Yinchorri training camp. Dozens, maybe hundreds of thousands of huge upright lizards were currently training, living, and simply preparing for future battles.
A real army, nothing like those strange walruses or those tin cans of the Trade Federation. Perhaps only the Tsurr slavers could compare to them in danger...
"Nah," "Beacon" drawled ironically, easily imagining how a few Yinchorri regiments would effortlessly kill the same number of Tsurr. "The blue-skins are probably better in one-on-one fights... But in a battle of armies, they're definitely fucked."
"Damn, commander." Sitting down next to his superior, Billy Booker peered into the camp sprawling in the foothills, which was now suspiciously agitated. "I was joking when I said 'everyone.' I'm afraid we can't take on this many..."
It was unclear what was more present in Booker's voice—disappointment, doubt, or perhaps annoyance? A crazy, hardened veteran of a hundred battles, Billy had been a bit unstable for a long time.
"Like most Helldivers."
Sharous snorted ironically to himself, finally pulling away from the binoculars and surveying the massive camp with normal vision.
"You're probably right," Sharous said, not keeping him waiting for an answer, theatrically shaking his head in admission. "I think we'll definitely need a few more 'dozens'..."
"Then we prepare to retreat?" Sitting on the other side, Myrkr took the offered binoculars and, following the commander's silent instructions, looked toward a small dust cloud approaching them in an arc. "Well, look at that... Bitch!"
"What's there?" "Major" jumped up, grabbed his autocannon, and looked through the massive weapon's sight at the indicated point. "Well, looks like you can't escape fate; we were going to die sooner or later anyway..."
With a touch of irony and resignation in his voice, Booker looked away from the sight. It wasn't visible yet, but in the next half hour, you'd be able to see an entire battalion of motorized infantry with the naked eye, riding speeders and speeder bikes straight toward them.
Combat vehicles, Yinchorri dressed in uniform armor, plus big guns for everyone and vibroblades of all sizes—nothing like those scavengers who raided mining villages and small towns.
In short, a serious company was heading their way, and they definitely wouldn't be able to escape them on foot, so...
"We'll make our stand here." Standing up abruptly, Salco felt a surge of unhealthy enthusiasm. Pressing his lips together with a fanaticism that could be felt even through the thick walls of his helmet, the man looked around at the Helldivers gathered around him. Eight angry men, just as obsessed with Holy Liberty as he was. "We can't run from them anyway, so at least we'll take as many of the monsters with us as we can!"
"YES!"
"Billy, break out all the ammo, scatter it among the covers and points," marking several spots on the cliff where they had gathered, Salco began issuing orders to the others. "Jaeger, free hunt. Reed, Firefly—set the charges and add more fuel from the flamethrower to them."
"Will do, boss." Slapping his comrade on the shoulder, Myrkr was the first to dash back to the backpacks left in the distance, where he began brazenly digging through them and turning them inside out—tossing everything they had onto the ground.
"'Paprika,' you and yours will hunker down on that side, on the adjacent ledge." Walking right up to his old acquaintance, Salco extended a hand, which was squeezed in a heroic grip a moment later. "As soon as the freaks get bogged down and close in on us, hit them right in the ass."
"Will do. Just don't you die prematurely." Grunting, the big man made the Jabiimite stagger with a punch to the shoulder. "I don't want to take all the glory for myself again while you're roasting in the hospital."
"Screw you..."
Watching the Noble Two depart, Salco Sharous looked over the friends gathered around him. The old Ukian signaled his readiness with a double click in the earpiece, and Vit Fordo notified him with a succinct "Ready."
"Well, boys?" Feeling the daring and cheerful mood of the team, "Beacon" allowed himself to smile. "As our beloved commander says: 'Let's die so they tell legends about it!'"
"HUA!"
****
I sit down behind the manual autocannon, 20mm caliber. My baby is a true exotic, something not everyone is worthy of receiving.
My fingers run habitually over the smooth black metal. Cold and hard.
I feel the adrenaline boiling in my blood and my heart beating faster.
Thump-thump-thump.
I take a comfortable position, legs spread to keep balance. I'm half-lying, bracing my sabatons against the rocks while the autocannon on its bipod hangs like my own equipment.
Before me is a steel machine, ready for action, and I, supposedly a seasoned bastard raised by war, am tuning every cell of my body in this moment to shoot correctly.
It's like sex; the first shot is especially important. You can't fuck up and ruin everything, or the subsequent "shooting" will be bad.
The first touch of the trigger. I'd like to savor this moment longer, but... Myrkr is always making fun of me for spending more time with my rifle than with the people around me.
My finger, as if at top speed, makes a strong press, and the mechanism triggers instantly. In that moment, the world around me goes silent. An explosion like a thunderous lightning strike—a sound that swallows everything around it. It's as if the entire atmosphere around me compresses, and in the next instant, an incredible crash erupts, echoing in my chest. This is no longer just a shot; it is power, rare and indescribable.
The power of Liberty itself is in my hands, and it sends its beautiful seeds into every bastard face that dared think itself more powerful than Democracy!
Recoil. It comes like a punch, strong and sharp, forcing my shoulder back. I collapse slightly in my side, but I barely feel it—only a soft, familiar pulsation reminding me that I am controlling something incredible.
The smell of gunpowder mixed with tibanna penetrates my nostrils, sharp and pungent, like those damn aromas from the rare fruits of Felucia that the boss loves so much.
It is the smell of war, the aroma of strength and power—the most pleasant smell in the morning. It mixes with the slightly sweet, metallic taste of hot metal. My hands begin to shake slightly as I indulge in these thoughts; the magazine is almost empty, and a pleasant shiver runs through my muscles, accompanied by the disgruntled clanking of my baby.
Every shot is like a challenge, an echo of the madness within me. I feel the energy pierce my spine, and in that moment, I realize that every bullet of Liberty flies forward, literally racing with a scream, forever leaving its mark in the form of mangled remains on the ground.
For a moment, it seems that even time slows down, and I am all attention, focused only on this moment. It imprints itself on my memory every time, so deeply that no goddamn time will ever erase it!
And what about the adrenaline?
It fills me like a firework exploding in my head and heart. As if all the life energy in my body is bursting out, and in that moment, I understand: I am here, I am in the center of this churning catastrophic vortex. And the whole sensation—from the recoil to the whine of the bullets—eclipses the space around me.
After a few shots, I lower the weapon to relax the tension in my arms, and the muzzle lightly touches the cold stone. For a second, I sit in complete silence before starting to reload my weapon, and then the sounds return...
"Need to reload quickly."
****
"FIRE!"
Watching the damaged cruiser Virulence as it hastily retreated to the other side of the planet to avoid taking more hits to its belly from the mobile planetary defense guns, Salco gripped his blaster with both hands, standing at full height behind his temporary fortification, and opened fire.
Bursts of red beams flew in a solid wave into the gaping maw of a huge lizard that was trying to climb up the cliff to him under the cover of the noise.
The vile alien snapped its mouth shut and stared at the Jabiimite with dead eyes. Smoke trailing from its maw, the Yinchorri fell onto its back, landing on its clamoring kin, who in their rage and malice were rushing into melee, intending to tear the tiny bugs apart with their bare hands.
Pain sliced through his left elbow. Bracing himself against the rocks, Sharous leaned over the edge and, with a burst from his blaster, knocked down a few more freaks who were crawling closer.
A beam grazed his helmet, and then a shard from a rocket that exploded nearby left a crack on his visor. Shrapnel drummed against his armor and helmet, trying to find vulnerable spots, but for now... the suit held.
"BOSS!"
Myrkr's cry made him turn. Dropping to one knee, the Jabiimite opened fire without hesitation on the lizards crawling onto the cliff, who had already begun firing in all directions and carving out more space for themselves. Screaming in their guttural language, one of them lifted "Reed" above him, then slammed him headfirst against a nearby rock.
Raising its arms over its head, the alien didn't have time to celebrate its victory before a round from an autocannon tore its body in half. Huge shells shattered stone along with the Yinchorri crawling over them. Ten rounds cleared everything around the slumped "Reed," who lay motionless.
Turning around, Salco barely managed to dodge the blow of a huge cleaver that struck sparks from the stone beneath his feet. Hissing and flicking its long tongue from side to side, the alien lunged at him with its whole body, but a bullet from the Ukian's anti-materiel rifle pierced its head, causing it to fall face down.
Heavy fire erupted from the adjacent cliff, granting them a few seconds of respite, but a moment later, cannons from speeders began pounding the Noble Two. A series of explosions rolled under their feet as well; apparently, the lizards were tired of losing fighters.
Falling to the ground, Salco only had time to feel someone yanking his leg, pulling him closer to the edge, before pain shot through his side.
Writhing like a snake, he pointed the muzzle of his blaster down, emptying the rest of the magazine into the face of the snarling alien that had driven a vibroblade into him. Struggling with all his might against the encroaching dizziness, forcing himself to crawl away from the edge of the cliff where huge upright reptiles were crawling without stop, Sharous, with a blurred gaze through a lethal dose of stimulants, tried to find his men.
"Firefly, blow the charge!" Seeing no other way out, the Jabiimite shouted his last order through the pain and the nausea rising in his throat. Flashes of flame lit up the cliff. A huge column of blue color shot toward the heavens, then covered them all, searing all exposed areas of skin. Red screens began to beep, and the armor began injecting new medicines and stimulants into his blood.
Rolling onto his side, firing randomly somewhere toward feet, Salco watched the surroundings as if in slow motion.
Several blurred silhouettes merged right in front of him, intertwining colors and seemingly trying to fuse together. A huge green one and a much smaller black one... They jumped constantly, often falling to the ground, until finally the green one lifted the black spot above itself and slammed it against the ground with all its might.
Blaster shots hit his ears, and the green flashes illuminating his face even through the pierced visor seared his eyes.
From the crash of metal and the crack of armor, the Jabiimite was able to clear his vision to see Billy Booker being crushed into the rock. The old veteran was hitting the face of the alien on top of him with all his might, smashing the ugly mug to pulp, but the creature didn't stop, continuing to send one plasma charge after another directly into his gut. Pressing a pistol into Billy's stomach, the Yinchorri gritted its teeth and endured the pain of its shattered face.
One of its eyes had leaked out, and its jaw was already hanging loose, but the massive beast had no intention of retreating.
"Argh!" Growling, Booker jerked his whole body, twisting and reaching for a thermal detonator on the huge lizard's belt. "GO TO HELL!"
Time froze. Then an instantaneous shockwave rolled across the top of the cliff.
The thermal detonator's explosion scattered the remains of the two giants in all directions. Bloody splatters lit up the area, leaving a scorched patch of blood and guts where their battle had been. As for Salco himself, the force of the blast threw him off the cliff, right into the arms of the advancing Yinchorri.
***
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