Sunlord by Ronan Frost Page B

blistering
heat of an explosion.
    Jhakl pressed a wall panel and a door hissed open.
"Haven't seen much action for a while," he commented as he stepped
through the door.
    "Should see some soon; Avatar is taking an unusual
interest in this planet."
    Gurhuin was a bull-like burly creature, his jaw low
and protruding and his scalp hairless. Both Sunlords moved lightly
on their feet like panthers, their chests broad and shoulders
wide.
    They belonged to a crack troop force known as the
A-squad used in war time to infiltrate enemy lines and secure
planetside bases. Equipped with the best hardware of the time they
were a formidable opponent even for the best of defences, their
specialised 'Auras' laser rifles meaning certain death to anyone
caught between the cross-hairs.
    They were the elite warriors aboard the Urisa and
demanded special respect anywhere within the Forces, and looked
upon by others with a mixture of admiration and suspicious awe. The
A-squad warrior was created carefully from birth, their genes
cultivated in laboratories for maximum strength, fitness and
intellectual brilliance.
    In a battle they were often the fatal stroke that
destroyed the enemies defences. Their job was to infiltrate through
the trenches and defence walls after the heavy troopers and tanks
had taken the brunt of the firepower. From there they relied upon
speed and manoeuvrability to locate and destroy the enemy's
critical installations, freeing the way for the troopers. The
A-squad was a feared name among the lines of the adversary, for
they knew once they got through the outer defences, their base was
as good as gone.
    Gurhuin had seen many battles and had fought
alongside fellow warriors for most of his long life. He paced
lightly down the steel corridor, his weight carried easily upon
muscled legs. He stepped into the armoury cube.
    "See you planetside," he called to Jhakl as his
companion walked a little further down the corridor to his
cube.
    "Let's wipe some thorts!"
    Gurhuin laughed and fitted himself into the cube and
sealed the door. Moments later he was in darkness.
    Machinery hummed as heavy armour was fitted about his
form by a thousand small robotic arms. Webbing containing
dehydrated food, ammunition, a medical kit and a self contained gas
mask strapped to the armour. The heavy duty Auras rifle slotted
into place in the holster just below the right shoulder blade that
could be retrieved by the Sunlord by simply reaching over in an
easy motion. A smaller pistol fitted snugly into its recessed clip
on the left thigh and a belt of grenades snapped onto the waist of
the armour.
    Just as the final latches hummed and locked into
place, the floor beneath Gurhuin's feet dropped away. His face
remained impassive as he dropped and carried through a world of
blackness and groaning hydraulics. There was a hissing, and the
door before opened before him. Taking a split-second to reorientate
himself, he stepped out and double-timed it through the restricted
area to the docking bay.
    He piled into the seats of the craft that awaited,
noticing that five other troops had already taken position. The
drop craft had a small interior and was empty of lining. All
available space was utilised in the most efficient manner possible.
The android supervised as the equipment was stowed and strapped,
but its presence was superfluous as the troops moved into their
positions like pieces falling into a jigsaw puzzle. Barely had the
last two troops locked into position did the door shut and docking
catches release.
    In a complex array multiple machines swung into
action to carry the small craft through the opening dock doors. The
hiss of propelling steam immediately froze as it entered the
absolute cold of space, retro rockets flaring to carry the ship
away from the bulk of the Urisa. The primary thruster blazed once
clear of the docking bay and in seconds the craft was in free fall.
The whole craft shook and jolted as they entered the atmosphere and
gravity