Ethan swallowed hard as the metal ground of the Pavilion seemed to rush up at the gunship. The loading bay door was already opening before the aircraft even came within a hundred feet of landing. Ethan lost his balance as the first blast of flak hit the side of the gunship. The troops who filled the belly of the aircraft buckled as well, but kept their stance as they readied their weapons.
There were soldiers from each nation aboard the gunship, as well as on the five others that flew alongside them. Mercenaries from Orange, soldiers from Battalion, rebels of the Union, and the Opesian army were all landing with Ethan in the heart of the Council’s territory. Even a few of the smaller Gearhead mechs were in the assault, as well as the Ghosts deadliest warriors. Ethan felt he was in good company, despite the almost suicidal nature of his task. He looked down at the radio beacon, which was clipped to his chest by a harness.
Just gotta run as fast as I can and plant the son of a bitch, Ethan thought, feeling the device with his clammy hands. That’s all. Don’t think about it. Just run and try not to die.
He could feel the rockets under the gunship fire up to slow the aircraft’s descent. Concussive blows continued to strike the vehicle as they started to come to a full stop.
Ethan felt a hand on his shoulder. He looked over at the unfamiliar Union rebel, who met his eyes.
“You’re gonna find the Council’s storage bank to the north,” the rebel said, pointing out the bay doors. “Run and try to conceal your approach. We will cover you.”
The human teenager tried to speak, but no words came to him. He nodded in response as the gunship shook violently. They had landed.
As the bay door finished opening and the ramp to the ground was in place, the troops rushed out like water from a spigot. Battle cries filled Ethan’s ears as he closed his eyes and ran alongside the others. Once he was outside the gunship, the sound of gunshots and blaster fire overtook him. While his senses overloaded, he faced north.
Just run, he told himself.
Powder Keg
The shockwave that emanated from the artillery gun blew the bristles of Major Danib’s mustache sideways as he gazed at the wall through digital optics. His brow furrowed as he zoomed in a little farther. With a frantic wave of his arm, he shouted back at the gunners.
“Cease fire!” he bellowed. “Cease fire! Civilians on the target!”
King Hum stepped up to the hump of dirt Danib watched the wall from. He magnified his vision with a simple mental command and saw a line of forms spilling out of Shell City. The refugees approached them in a wide, dark wave. Even from his distance, the Opesian king could see the panic in their body language.
“It looks like they have wounded,” Hum said to Major Danib.
“I agree,” the Battalion leader replied. He turned to the nearest soldier. “Order the medical facilities to be ready for refugees!”
The young man replied with a “Yes, sir!” then sprinted off to the tents behind the firing line.
“Let’s hope there’s not more of them,” Danib said just quiet enough for King Hum to hear. “I don’t think we’re ready for the amount out there right now.”
“Sir!” a voice cried from behind the two leaders. They both turned and saw one of Danib’s lieutenants with a long-range radio set strapped to her back.
“What is it, soldier?” Danib asked.
“We’ve intercepted a message,” the lieutenant replied. “The Council has notified the other cities of the attack. They are organizing a response as we speak.”
Major Danib’s face fell and the blood drained from his skin. “That’ll be all,” he said to the soldier.
“What do we do?” King Hum asked once the lieutenant disappeared.
“We do our jobs,” Major Danib replied. “And pray that everyone else does theirs.”
Even Tera and Gauge were surprised by the enthusiasm in the slum dwellers. It wasn’t just that, though. It was the focus they had. They weren’t running around attacking each other, stealing and breaking things that belonged to their fellow dwellers. Instead, they unified to take down each Council officer who responded to the scene. Whenever someone was injured, ten people flooded in to take his or her place while the crowd took care of them and made sure they got to safety. In a weird way, it filled Tera with pride.
“Freeze!” she heard one of the white bodyshells yell to the rioters as it arrived on scene. He tried to open fire on one of the dwellers as they charged him, but the gun was already out of his hand before the command finished leaving his voice speaker. Tera couldn’t see what happened to the cop as the crowd swallowed him up.
I wonder if the sergeant is out there, Tera wondered, thinking of her old boss. If he’s smart, he’s sticking out of this one.
The crowd started to get congested as they made their way up the highway ramp that connected the lower slums to the Pavilion. All traffic came to a standstill as the pedestrians filled the motorway. Autocars continued to zoom over their heads, but the earth-bound vehicles could only honk in frustration as the people swarmed around them. Some of the drivers even abandoned their cars to join the march.
Truck’s Raiders did a good job of arming the civilians who now made up a bulk of the mob. They seemed to know exactly who could be trusted with a rifle and who couldn’t. There were occasional bursts of gunfire, to which people screamed and ducked, but it always came from the mob itself. Anyone trying to attack them from the outside was promptly brought down by the Ghosts and the armed slum dwellers.
Everyone was shoulder-to-shoulder as the forward movement seemed to stop. It seemed like they had come up to a barricade,
