the plasma engulfed the other sniper position. Snarling, he dropped his rifle and picked up the rocket launcher nearby. Bracing himself against the closest girder, he lifted the bright silver weapon and let the launcher’s harness brace firmly in the crook of his shoulder. Activating the laser sight, a single beam leapt from the front of the weapon, tracking and painting the open turret of the first tank. Pulling the trigger, a cacophony of sound rumbled through the building as fire erupted from the back of the weapon. Though temporarily blinded, the laser sight had already done its job. Even without the Avalon being able to watch the movement of the rocket, the round followed the pre-programmed laser sight, slamming into the body that hung half in and half out of the tank’s turret. The rocket tore through the soft body of the Terran and found the tank’s interior, flooding the crew cabin with deadly plasma. Igniting the rounds and fuel cells stored within, the tank exploded in a fireball that shattered the wall next to it. The shockwave from the explosion lifted the nearby tank. Rolling wildly, the second tank slammed into a building across the street and fell heavily to the ground, its inertial dampeners destroyed.
The revolutionaries cheered as they attached explosives to the second tank. Detonating it, the incendiary rounds burned straight through the hull, pouring superheated magnesium into the crew cabin. Though most were killed as the flames encompassed the interior of the tank, the poisonous gas created as the explosives burned through the hull quickly overcame the crewmen who miraculously survived the fire. Falling unconscious, the flames rolled over their bodies, killing them in their sleep.
The Avalon set down the rocket and pulled out his radio. “Ambush Team Alpha successful.” He frowned as he observed the battlefield. Though the ambush team had destroyed the Terran assault on this street, they lost nearly three quarters of their own men.
“Ambush Team Bravo, successful,” a voice cried exuberantly over the radio.
“Ambush Team Charlie, successful,” cried another. “Terrans in full retreat.”
Commander Lucience frowned as he watched the display. His blue forces were disappearing from the display, but he could see no red forces that were causing the destruction. As far as he could tell, the remaining insurgents were still four blocks from where his forces were being destroyed, too far for them to be responsible.
“Explain,” he demanded, his bodyguards quickly perusing the reports in an attempt to find an answer.
“Long range weaponry?” the first guard offered.
“Impossible,” Lucience replied. “They would have no tracking mechanism to deliver so exact a payload. Anyways, we would have observed a ranged attack from the satellite display.” He turned toward the second guard inquisitively. “Is everything copasetic with the satellite array?”
“Telemetry from the satellite appears to be in working order, sir,” the second bodyguard replied. “There is no explainable reason why we are not receiving feedback on the source of attack against our troops.”
Commander Lucience snarled. “It doesn’t matter, let them come.” His snarl turned until it became a malicious grin. “I have more surprises for them yet. Send in the fighters and bring me the control panel for the bracelets.”
The crowd pushed past the destroyed remains of the tanks and Terran infantry, surging now toward the rubble fields. As they approached, the Lithids drew to a stop as they observed the lines of enemy defensive positions hastily created on the edge of the business district. Keryn came to a stop as well, having forced her way through the throngs of people and joined the armed assault team in the front of the formation.
“Find cover!” Penchant yelled as the Terran forces opened fire. The majority of Lithids and the assault team scrambled behind rubble and buildings, getting themselves out of harm’s way before the gunfire began. The crowd, however, failed to move and covered the street like a sea of immobilized targets. For many in the group, they had marched from the residential district to where they were now, never fully aware of the threat they faced. For others, the march to the rubble fields each day had become a way of life, one that wouldn’t be hindered regardless of who was giving their orders. Whatever their reasons, they stood tall and proud as the rounds tore through their ranks.
The initial volley left the streets covered with bodies and slick with blood. Spurred into movement, the rest of the crowd scattered, fleeing haphazardly in all directions. Keryn had expected as much and, honestly, had incorporated the chaos into her battle plan. Ducking low beneath the pile of rubble she was using for cover, she turned toward the one thing she hadn’t planned for.
“Penchant,” she yelled over the din of gunfire, “I need someone to take care of those defensive positions!”
Penchant roared in anger and leapt from his cover, his massive, powerful legs covering over half the distance in his first bound. The other Lithids quickly followed suit. Knowing that death was inevitable for them, the Lithids fought like the monsters whose form they had taken. Slamming into the hasty Terran positions, they tossed rubble and bodies alike into the air. Their elongated claws tore through the armor of the Terran soldiers as they sank their rows of razor sharp teeth into others, grinding through the soft flesh. Though a number of the Lithids died from gunfire, many more seemed to shrug off the wounds they received and kept on fighting.
As the Terrans began to retreat from their positions, the Lithids stopped their assault and stood, staring at one another. Taking advantage of the sudden lull in the battle, the Terrans found new cover and watched intently. As quiet settled over the battlefield, Keryn could hear a faint beeping.
“No,” she whispered into the air. Standing, she walked toward the Lithids and the stunned Terrans.
“No, not now,” she said a little louder as others of the assault team rose from their positions and began moving forward.
Penchant turned, his eyes filled with the same fear she felt. He raised his wrist so she could see the red lights flashing around the bracelet, their flashing increasing at a steady pace. Sighing, he let his body transform back to his natural state, his eyes disappearing behind the black slate of his face. Following suit, all the other Lithids did as well.
“We knew it would happen,” Penchant called back to her. “It was inevitable.”
He turned and faced the Terrans. Their resolve strengthened from watching the monsters transform into more manageable sizes, the infantry was beginning to take up positions behind cover within the rubble field.
“At least I got what I want,” Penchant yelled, the beeping on his wrist reaching a deadly crescendo. “I got my blaze of glory!”
Howling in fury, Penchant and the other Lithids charged into the Terran ranks. They didn’t swing a single claw nor did their spear-like tails strike any of their opponents. Instead, they pinned the Terrans to the ground, often two or more at a time.
Staring at their scared faces, Penchant roared in rage on last time. “We are Lithids, and we are proud!” Suddenly, the beeping stopped. Fireballs erupted all along the Terran defensive line. The explosives in the bracelets were meant to not only kill the Lithid wearing it, but anyone foolish enough to tamper with it as well. The radius of the explosion, as a result, was large enough to engulf entire bunkers of infantry.
Keryn covered her mouth as tears streamed down her face. She knew she wasn’t alone in her grief. Many of the assault team shed tears for those they barely knew before the revolution began, but who died with such furor on the battlefield.
Choking back a sob, Keryn stood, signaling the others forward. “Their ranks are broken,” she cried, tears stinging her eyes. “Let’s drive them back to the hangars!”
CHAPTER 24:
Yen knocked softly on the door to the War Room, awaiting the call to enter before opening the door. He stepped inside and was surprised at the darkness within. The lights had been dimmed, leaving only a soft glow to outline the Captain’s form sitting at the large table. Lights that were not important for illuminating the center table had been turned off. Even the dark monitors around the room watched the Captain’s brooding like silent sentinels.
“Please, Yen,” the Captain said softly, her voice a reflection of the darkness of the room, “please come in.”
Wordlessly, he took a seat across the table, trying to read her facial expressions in the gloom. In all the time
