* * *
Drake raced to keep up with Bana. Entropy, how can an old Human move so fast in this gravity? Three more troopers accompanied them, though they’d only had time to throw on a bullet resistant vest, helmet, and cold weather jacket, along with weapons.
“We need bloody CASPers,” Drake said.
“No fucking time, doggo,” Bana snapped back. “We’re under attack.”
I know that much, Drake grumbled to himself.
The team reached the area of the explosion in little time, as the area of the base they occupied wasn’t large. Bana slid to a stop just before the last door and put an ear to it.
“What’s up?” Drake asked.
“Cats,” Bana said, and gestured at the door with a thumb. “Lock and load, boys.” Everyone readied weapons quickly. “Whatever is on the other side, don’t mess around thinking about it. Hit hard, hit fast. Surprise is on our side; they aren’t expected armed resistance.”
Everyone nodded, including Drake.
“Right, Drake, pull the door open.”
Drake did as he was told, only realizing afterwards that the sergeant had chosen him so he’d be out of the line of fire.
The door moved, and all five of the others moved forward, the front two kneeling so the rear three could fire over them.
“That’s a fuckton of pussies,” Bana muttered as he leveled his Heckler & Glock battle rifle and opened fire.
Drake was glad he habitually wore electronic hearing protection. Zuul ears were considerably more sensitive than Human, so gunfire could cause real pain. The noise-dampening devices responded to decibel spikes within a millisecond, far faster than his ears could perceive them. Drake heard one of the men say, “Get some,” before the ear protection cut off the cacophony of gunfire.
A second later he leaned around with his own rifle to see dozens of twitching, bloody Pushtal bodies before a massive rend in the wall. Obviously they’d used explosives and had been busy gathering forces inside prior to attacking.
“Snooze you lose, cats!” He laughed and gunned another one down. Like snagging crabs in the surf. An instant later a wave of Pushtal fairly flew in through the breach, weapons blazing. A grunt and thud made Drake looked down to see one of the four other men fall away, his face a bloody mess.
“Get back, ya doby!” Bana barked and pushed Drake away from the door as the others scrambled out of the way. “Hill, grenade!”
“Too right!” A second later, the man flung the grenade around the door frame and into the room. Everyone around Drake got their bodies as far away as possible. A cat cried in surprise an instant before the grenade went off. Kaboom!
Bana peaked around the corner and grunted. “Cleared them out, let’s go!” The five of them moved as quickly as they could into the room. What had once been a machinery space of some sort was now a slaughterhouse, awash in blood and cat guts. Drake gave a savage grin as he moved through it. One of the Pushtal still had enough life to reach for him, and he shot it in the face.
“Later, shark biscuit,” he said as he moved by.
However, the problem now was the cold. They only had jackets, not full cold suits. The Humans pulled down their face shields with built-in breathers and slid on gloves while Drake flipped on the light armor’s atmo processor. He also had heaters in his armor, though they wouldn’t operate long without a recharge.
The group reached the breach in the wall and took advantage of the cover provided by broken wall sections and other debris to look outside.
“Fuck me dead,” Bana cursed. There were five flyers parked within view, and they were simply teaming with cats pouring out. He took out a grenade and looked at the range, frowned, then glanced at Drake.
“Here you go, lad,” he said and handed him the grenade. “Try and hit the middle vehicle, it looks like it has other equipment aboard.”
Drake smiled hugely, taking the grenade and nodding. “Piece of piss,” he said and glanced outside, a quick peek. The Pushtal were gathering in large numbers, no doubt planning to rush the breach again. They seemed quite confident, though perhaps a little reluctant after the explosion inside. All the better, Drake thought.
Growing up in Brisbane, Drake had always been the most athletic of the pups. Surfing was his passion, but he’d found baseball at a young age, including playing on the company softball team at a mere nine years old.
The grenade held 250 grams of K2, an explosive brought to Earth by the Galactic Union in the early days of first contact. Containing more than four times the explosive force of C4, the binary explosive was incredibly stable, and pretty much the perfect explosive for grenades. With timer, detonator, and casing, the grenade weighed a manageable 400 grams.
Using the quickly assembled mental map, Drake snapped the safety retainer, yanked the primer pin, and pitched the weapon around the corner of the shattered wall with a hard flicking motion. The grenade could be set for either timed detonation (from 5 to 50 seconds) or impact. He’d set it for 10 seconds, so it could roll. The throw felt perfect, so he turned to Bana and grinned.
“Cheeky blighter, aren’t you?” Bana asked. A few rounds were bouncing off the side of the wall, but despite the risk, everyone craned for a peek as the grenade bounced off the frozen ground twice and rolled under the middle vehicle to come to rest. Ka-BOOM!
The vehicle went up, then whatever it was carrying exploded, too. KARUMP! It was a high order detonation, which sent fire, debris, other flyers, and Pushtal flying in all directions.
“Yeah, maybe a little,” Drake admitted as
