whole crash event from his mind, he activated his helmet systems, scanning the surrounding area for any signs of immediate threat.
He knew he had come down somewhere in Nordstadt, and was familiar with the reputation of the place as a killing zone without equal in the whole of Nu Earth, but even this wasn't enough to cause him any undue concern. He had survived everything else and he was supremely confident in his ability to survive here too. Not just to survive, but-
He winced, a bolt of pain shooting through the raw-fleshed, flame-transformed mask that was all that remained of his face. His suit's med-systems registered the fact and administered the required dosage of medication into his bloodstream. It was enough to dull the pain, but never fully vanquishing it, in keeping with the preset instructions he had fed into the med-applicator unit. The pain of his wounds, the bitterness of the memory of how he had come to lose his face and his hatred of the creature that had caused those wounds, was what gave him the vital edge that had allowed him to survive for so long. Once, he had held real power and position, but now he was little more than a scarred, hunted freak. A wounded animal, fleeing from one bolt-hole to another, pursued by-
There was a warning bleep from his suit systems. He looked up at the scene in front of him, through the infrared vista projected onto the inside of his helmet visor.
He saw them moving forward through the rubble, maybe two dozen or so of them, with presumably a similar number closing in out of sight from behind.
He had been instinctively reaching for his sidearm, but now he relaxed, recognising his would-be attackers for what they were.
Scavengers. Filthy rabble scum, looking to strip the wreck and its occupants, living and dead, of everything they could.
He smiled and raised his hands in the air. This was going to be far easier than he would ever have dared hope.
SIX
"How many shuttle drops you think there's been in the last week?"
"Sarge?"
They were sitting outside the entrance to the company HQ oxy-dome, her and Ludlow, resting and enjoying the sensation of not being shot at. Hanna was staring up into the sky, watching the blazing contrails of the transport and supply shuttles lifting off and landing at the main Souther defence zone twenty kilometres away across the city.
Mortjik and Singh had been handed over to the medics. Mortjik would be back on his feet in a few days time, she had been told, but Singh had already been shipped out by company hopper to the main defence zone, and would probably be on one of those shuttles later today or tomorrow, on his way out of Nordstadt for further med-treatment. His wound would be evaluated and he would either be invalided out of military or, if possible, fitted with a prosthetic arm and redeployed back into frontline service, although probably not Nordstadt. Either way, Hanna didn't think they'd be seeing him again anytime soon.
She pointed up at the contrails. "The shuttle drops. Is it my imagination, or have there been less of them every day for the last week or so?"
Ludlow looked and then shrugged noncommittally. "Couldn't really say, sarge. Everyone knows about General Ghazeleh's tank boys pushing in from the south to open up the land road again and us getting ready to break out and link up with them. If we're gonna do that, then we're gonna need more shuttle drops, not less. Maybe they're shipping the fresh meat in through another safety zone, the one in the north-west quad, maybe."
"Maybe," said Hanna, thinking the exact opposite. If there were extra reinforcements coming into the "Stadt", then they sure as hell weren't seeing any of them here. The company CO had just told her he had no replacements coming through from Regimental HQ to plug the gaps left by the week's toll of casualties. Castle's and Aldubi's squads had taken a heavy beating in a serious firefight with at least half a company's worth of Norts three days ago and,
He knew he had come down somewhere in Nordstadt, and was familiar with the reputation of the place as a killing zone without equal in the whole of Nu Earth, but even this wasn't enough to cause him any undue concern. He had survived everything else and he was supremely confident in his ability to survive here too. Not just to survive, but-
He winced, a bolt of pain shooting through the raw-fleshed, flame-transformed mask that was all that remained of his face. His suit's med-systems registered the fact and administered the required dosage of medication into his bloodstream. It was enough to dull the pain, but never fully vanquishing it, in keeping with the preset instructions he had fed into the med-applicator unit. The pain of his wounds, the bitterness of the memory of how he had come to lose his face and his hatred of the creature that had caused those wounds, was what gave him the vital edge that had allowed him to survive for so long. Once, he had held real power and position, but now he was little more than a scarred, hunted freak. A wounded animal, fleeing from one bolt-hole to another, pursued by-
There was a warning bleep from his suit systems. He looked up at the scene in front of him, through the infrared vista projected onto the inside of his helmet visor.
He saw them moving forward through the rubble, maybe two dozen or so of them, with presumably a similar number closing in out of sight from behind.
He had been instinctively reaching for his sidearm, but now he relaxed, recognising his would-be attackers for what they were.
Scavengers. Filthy rabble scum, looking to strip the wreck and its occupants, living and dead, of everything they could.
He smiled and raised his hands in the air. This was going to be far easier than he would ever have dared hope.
SIX
"How many shuttle drops you think there's been in the last week?"
"Sarge?"
They were sitting outside the entrance to the company HQ oxy-dome, her and Ludlow, resting and enjoying the sensation of not being shot at. Hanna was staring up into the sky, watching the blazing contrails of the transport and supply shuttles lifting off and landing at the main Souther defence zone twenty kilometres away across the city.
Mortjik and Singh had been handed over to the medics. Mortjik would be back on his feet in a few days time, she had been told, but Singh had already been shipped out by company hopper to the main defence zone, and would probably be on one of those shuttles later today or tomorrow, on his way out of Nordstadt for further med-treatment. His wound would be evaluated and he would either be invalided out of military or, if possible, fitted with a prosthetic arm and redeployed back into frontline service, although probably not Nordstadt. Either way, Hanna didn't think they'd be seeing him again anytime soon.
She pointed up at the contrails. "The shuttle drops. Is it my imagination, or have there been less of them every day for the last week or so?"
Ludlow looked and then shrugged noncommittally. "Couldn't really say, sarge. Everyone knows about General Ghazeleh's tank boys pushing in from the south to open up the land road again and us getting ready to break out and link up with them. If we're gonna do that, then we're gonna need more shuttle drops, not less. Maybe they're shipping the fresh meat in through another safety zone, the one in the north-west quad, maybe."
"Maybe," said Hanna, thinking the exact opposite. If there were extra reinforcements coming into the "Stadt", then they sure as hell weren't seeing any of them here. The company CO had just told her he had no replacements coming through from Regimental HQ to plug the gaps left by the week's toll of casualties. Castle's and Aldubi's squads had taken a heavy beating in a serious firefight with at least half a company's worth of Norts three days ago and,
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