He could hardly believe their sudden reprieve.

  It didn’t last long. Another enemy unit poured into the alleyway, opening fire on the Scorpions. Rounds dug into the synthcrete building overhead, creating deep gouges and clouds of dust. More pinged off the trash bins they chose for cover, keeping them pinned down. When Alex tried to pop out to shoot, he immediately had to duck back as bullets whizzed past his head.

  He looked across the alley to where Jackson and Zoe were pinned down, gesturing to coordinate their fire. He would draw the enemy’s attention while they opened up.

  Vibrations running through the synthcrete under their boots gave him pause, and he turned his head back in time to see an enemy Marine in powered armor rushing the dome. Alex whirled and raised his rifle, ready to open fire as the tango shot the transparency, cracking it. Splintering shards surrounded the Marine as he crashed through it, but his weapon didn’t turn on the Scorpions as Alex expected. It chewed into the opposition as he launched skyward, jumping away from the return fire and raining hell down on the occupiers.

  Landing smoothly between the Scorpions, the Marine turned toward Alex, activating external comms.

  “Hey, Gunny,” Sarah said. “Long time, no see.”

  Alex’s grin split his entire face as he straightened. “It’s about time, Two,” he replied.

  "Sarah!" Zoe cried out, relief and joy suffusing her voice. "How did you⁠—”

  “I heard the explosions and figured you were in trouble,” Sarah cut her off, her tone all business. “Looks like I was right. I’ve got a little surprise for all of you waiting in the jungle.” She started back toward the hole she’d left in the dome. Come on, let’s go!”

  Alex turned to the others. "You heard the lady. Let's haul ass!”

  They took off at a dead run, offering only a sparing glance at the chaos unfolding behind them. The streets were ablaze, the Molotovs lighting up the enemy Marines, threatening to cook them in their armor while obscuring their vision. Meanwhile, they were being peppered with flechettes until they dropped. On the other side, the occupiers shot, kicked, punched, and stomped on the civilians, storming through them like an unstoppable force, leaving them dead or at least bloodied. Further in the distance, the other domes were also filling with smoke, booming echoes shaking the ground from seemingly everywhere.

  They pushed themselves to the ragged edge of endurance as they plunged into the primal green hell of the jungle. After a few hundred meters, Sarah veered off the rough path, crashing through the underbrush with reckless abandon. She burst out of the undergrowth and came to a halt in a small clearing, turning to face the others as they stumbled to a stop right behind her, chests heaving.

  Before them, laid out like an early Christmas present for a unit of Space Marines, was a cache of powered armor. Matte black Kikko suits, fully loaded magazines clipped to their frames, helmets racked beside them.

  "Saved the best for last," Sarah quipped, her grin audible even through her helmet's speakers.

  “Where did you⁠—”

  “The bad guys made the mistake of landing a dropship too far from the dam. While they were checking out our handiwork, I raided the larder. Picked up these bad boys, and a couple of ground-to-air missiles. I used one. The other’s stashed closer to the fort.”

  “Maybe we should just wait here, let you do all the work,” Alex said. “You clearly don’t need us.”

  Sarah laughed. “Any of you would have done the same in my boots.”

  Alex wasn’t so sure, but he didn’t have time to argue. Jackson whooped with unrestrained delight, practically throwing himself at the nearest suit. The others were only a heartbeat behind, sealing themselves into the armor with the speed and efficiency born of countless drills.

  As the last helmet hissed into place, Alex felt a surge of power and confidence flood through him. With this armor, with his team beside him, he felt ready to take on the entire occupying force single-handedly.

  "Scorpions," he said. "Let's go take back our fort."

  As one, they headed back into the jungle. In the distance, the sounds of battle still raged, explosions and screams echoing through the night. But for Alex and his team, all that mattered was the mission ahead.

  The civilians were doing their part, sowing chaos and discord among the enemy ranks. Now it was time for the Scorpions to strike at the heart of the invaders and cut off the serpent's head.

  CHAPTER 42

  The Scorpions moved through the jungle like phantoms, their armor blending seamlessly into the shadows cast by the towering trees and the darkness beneath the overgrown brush. Alex led the way, his heart pounding with a potent mix of anticipation and trepidation as they neared the perimeter of Fort Brix. The night air was thick and heavy, the distant sounds of chaos and combat echoing from the domes of Hut, a constant reminder of the high stakes. Alex raised a closed fist, signaling the team to halt and take cover.

  Crouching low in the vegetation, Alex surveyed the scene before him. The fort was on high alert, the perimeter heavy with guards in their own powered armor. Searchlights swept the jungle's edge, probing for any sign of the Scorpions. Weapons were held at the ready. They were expecting an attack, that much was clear.

  The Scorpions were patched into the enemy's comms chatter thanks to their stolen armor. Alex listened intently as the commander barked orders, his voice tight with tension…

  "Reposition Bravo squad to the south gate! I want eyes on every approach. And somebody get me a damn update on the situation in the settlement!"

  The response was immediate, a harried voice crackling over the link. "Sir, the civilians are overrunning our positions. They're hitting us with homemade rockets and firebombs. We've lost contact with teams four, six and eleven. We can't contain this much longer!"

  The reports from Hut were grim—for the occupiers. The civilians were fighting back with a ferocity that surprised even Alex. They were taking to the streets en masse, wielding their improvised weapons with impassioned fury.

  The tide was turning.

  Alex allowed himself a small smile before turning to his team, using hand signals to lay out the plan. They would split into three pairs, each targeting a different side of the base. Malik moved silently among them, distributing his homemade explosives, compact bundles of volatile chemicals and jagged metal inside glass jars. His grin was visible even through his faceplate, a predatory flash of teeth. Like Alex, he was eager to make these bastards pay, not just for invading Jungle but for executing captured Marines, an unforgivable war crime.

  At Alex's signal, they split off, moving silently through the dense undergrowth to their assigned positions. Alex and Sarah took the farthest side, where they would breach the main entrance to the fort. They crept to the edge of the tree line, tucking into the shadows as a searchlight swept over them, their armor hiding them from infrared. The shimmering force field hummed with energy a short distance away.

  Alex pulled out one of Malik's bombs, the crude but powerful device heavy in his gauntleted hand. He met Sarah's gaze, her eyes narrowed behind her visor, seeing his steely focus mirrored back at him. With a curt nod, he snapped his fingers, creating a spark that lit up the soaked rag sticking out of the end of the glass, and hurled it towards the base.

  The bomb arced through the air, tumbling end over end, a spinning harbinger of destruction. It went over the force field and came down, a well-aimed toss that landed squarely in the midst of a group of guards. The glass absorbed the impact, shattering around the payload, which clung to the synthcrete in a goopy, shrapnel-coated mess. The guards turned to look at it, confused by its sudden appearance and composition.

  For a single, stretched heartbeat, nothing happened. Then, with a roar that shook the ground, it detonated in a brilliant flash of light and fury.

  The explosion was devastating, a maelstrom of fire and shrapnel. Razor-sharp fragments of metal scythed through the enemy, shredding armor and flesh alike. The concussive blast wave followed an instant later, an invisible hammer of displaced air that hurled the broken bodies of the guards like discarded toys. A crater yawned in the reinforced synthcrete where they had stood moments before, a testament to the bomb's brutal efficiency.

  Almost immediately, two more earth-shattering detonations rocked the base as the other two teams of Zoe and Jackson, and Malik and Diego unleashed their own explosive fury on the other side of the base. Gouts of flame and plumes of debris rose into the night sky, silhouetting the armored figures scattered in their wake. Confusion and chaos reigned within the walls as the occupiers scrambled to mount a panicked response, their defenses thrown into disarray by the multidirectional assault.

  Alex triggered his jump jets, twin plumes of blue-white flame erupting from his armor's thruster pods. Sarah followed suit, and together they rocketed into the air. They arced over the force field, and the other two Scorpion pairs were doing the same from their positions.

  Alex and Sarah plunged into the heart of the base. Hitting the ground hard, their suits absorbed the shock, and artificial musculature kept them upright and combat-ready as the enemy turned to face them. Still reeling from the lingering effects of the blasts, they were slow to react. Alex and Sarah took advantage, quickly dishing out armor-piercing death.

  The two Scorpions moved like lightning, their suits' enhanced reflexes and strength allowing them to flow across the battlefield with preternatural speed and fluidity. They jinked and wove, side-slipping incoming fire in great lateral bounds, always one step ahead, always pressing forward. Their shots were unerringly precise, each burst from their rifles dropped a foe.

  The staccato bark of weapons fire from the other sides of the base—the rest of the Scorpions carving a path of destruction through the enemy ranks—told a similar story. And from Hut, the reports kept coming in, each more encouraging and inspiring than the last. The civilians had risen up, seizing the initiative, taking the fight to their oppressors with a courage that bordered on recklessness.

  And the chatter on the enemy comms proved it was working…

  “…they’ve taken the Market Square. All units, fall back!”

  “…heavy resistance at the synthcrete plant. We need reinforcements now! And I mean n⁠—”

  “Commander, we’re taking heavy casualties. We need assistance.”

  Alex felt a surge of pride amidst the adrenaline-fueled chaos of battle. The people of Hut, the downtrodden, the dismissed, were showing the galaxy what true resolve looked like. They were fighting for their homes and their freedom, and they were winning.

  Buoyed by their courage, Alex pushed forward, Sarah at his side, the two of them an unstoppable duo. They fought their way to the training center in the middle of the base, intent on reaching the Command Information Center and fully disabling the enemy’s ability to organize.

  As they neared, Alex couldn’t help thinking of the good times they’d had training there before all this started—the laughter, the camaraderie, the sense that while their training was sometimes boring, it was better than being in a real war.

  And these bastards had ruined all of that.

  They hit the entrance in a storm of precision rifle fire, clearing the guards and pausing while Alex used his DA to crack open the door. He spotted Jackson and Zoe shooting past, skidding along the ground on their jets before arcing high, firing down on the less-adept enemy fighters, keeping them distracted so Alex and Sarah could focus on their mission.

  The door control beeped and granted them access. They stormed into the interior and immediately met with a withering hail of return fire. They dove for cover as a blistering hail of armor-piercing rounds filled the air with a deadly lattice of buzzing slugs. The walls and floors around them disintegrated under the onslaught, showering them with molten metal splinters and synthcrete.

  Alex found himself pinned behind a support column, the surface pitted and cratered by the relentless barrage. Sarah was a few meters away, in a similar position. The enemy fire was too intense, too concentrated. They were well dug in, determined to hold the line.

  The Scorpions had to push forward. Every second they delayed was another second for the enemy commander to rally his forces and mount a counterattack that could turn the tide back in their favor. Plus, the columns wouldn’t last for long under this kind of assault.

  Alex gritted his teeth and surged to his feet. Still behind the column, he triggered his jets, skidding out sideways, planting against Sarah’s column and driving forward, jets accelerating him as he used the walls like bumpers on a pool table. He zigzagged, his armor's thrusters flaring as he pushed them to their limits, skimming over the floor and then taking great bounding leaps. The enemy fire tracked him, stitching fire across his path, but he was always one step ahead, always moving just a hair faster than their aim could follow. His armor took hits, of course, but they were glancing blows that didn’t penetrate, digging out gouges in the composite while sparing his life.

  Meanwhile, his rifle was an extension of his will, always aligned despite his erratic, high-speed maneuvering. It barked and spat, each burst of fire finding its mark with uncanny precision. Enemy fighters dropped like flies, their armor perforated, their bodies shattered.

  Just like that, he was through the kill zone, the enemy fire slackening as their numbers dwindled and their lines crumbled.

  Sarah was right behind him, her rifle adding its voice to the chorus of destruction. Together, they pushed forward, leapfrogging from cover to cover, always advancing, always attacking. The enemy fell back before their onslaught, their resistance crumbling in the face of the Scorpions' relentless fury.

  The CIC was on the ground floor, and they reached it quickly. Secured like the outer door, Alex could have stopped to let his DA crack the protection. He didn’t. Courageous rage drove him forward without slowing. He hit the door at full speed, his armored shoulder leading the way, a monstrous impact that shook the entire structure.

  The door crumpled, ripped from its moorings by the titanic force of Alex's charge. He barreled into the room beyond, Sarah hot on his heels, weapons ready.

  Inside, the scene was one of controlled chaos rapidly descending into panic. Operators hunched over their consoles, their faces bathed in the sickly glow of their displays, frantically trying to coordinate their battered forces even as their screens flickered and died, the base's power grid failing under the Scorpions' onslaught.

  And at the center of it all, the enemy commander, his face a mask of mingled fury and disbelief. He spun to face the intruders, his hand dropping to the sidearm at his hip.

  But Alex was faster. His rifle snapped up, the barrel leveled squarely at the commander's chest. The man froze, his eyes wide, his face draining of color as he stared down the unwavering muzzle of Alex's gun.

  "Don't," Alex growled, his voice a low, menacing rumble filtered through his helmet's speakers. "Not unless you want your insides to become your outsides."

  Slowly, carefully, the commander raised his hands, the fight going out of him. Around the room, the operators followed suit, some raising their hands, others simply slumping in their seats in defeat.

  Alex stepped forward, his rifle never wavering. "It's over," he snarled. "Your forces are beaten. Hut is ours. Surrender, and you and your people will be treated fairly as prisoners of war. Not that you deserve it, after what you did to my fellow Marines.”

  The commander opened his mouth to reply, a flicker of defiance in his eyes, but before he could speak, Jackson's voice crackled over the comms, high and urgent, bordering on panic.

  "Gunny, we've got trouble!" he yelled, his words nearly lost in a wash of static and interference. "Big trouble!"

  Alex frowned, a cold tendril of dread curling in his gut. " Report!"

  "In orbit, Gunny! You need to see this! Check the cameras, the scopes, anything! Just look up, if you can."

  Keeping his rifle trained on the commander, Alex turned to one of the operators, a young man with fearful eyes. "You heard him. Put it on screen. Now!"

  The operator complied, his hands shaking as they flew over his console. The main viewscreen flickered to life, the image resolving into a feed from one of the base's orbital sensor arrays.

  Alex felt his blood run cold at the sight. There, hanging against the starry blackness of space like a monstrous, predatory bird, was a ship. But not just any ship.

  A Komodo-class destroyer.

  The blood drained from his face as two smaller shapes detached from its launch bays, growing rapidly as they angled toward the planet's surface. Dropships, no doubt laden with fresh troops who were ready to crush the rebellion beneath their armored boots.

  Alex turned slowly back to the commander, his eyes hard, his grip tightening on his rifle. “Who are you people?”

  The commander met his gaze, a slow, vicious smile spreading across his face. His voice was a venomous hiss when he spoke, filled with dark triumph.

  “Your death.”

  CHAPTER 43

  "Soren, we're thirty minutes from arrival," Jack's voice echoed in his mind through the comms patch.

  “Thank you, Jack,” Soren replied, already rising from the mattress in his quarters on board the Wraith, a knot of anticipation and dread coiling in his gut. "I'm on my way."

  Still dressed, he exited his quarters and headed for the bridge. The path hadn’t only become familiar over the past few weeks, but well-worn, the deck showing signs of scuffing from his boots. Around him, the ship thrummed with barely contained energy, as if it too could sense an imminent confrontation.

  He had just reached the junction to the bridge when Lina's excited voice burst over the comms. "Captain! We've done it! We decrypted the data recorder!"

  Soren froze mid-step, hardly daring to believe what he'd just heard. After all their efforts, all the setbacks and close calls, could it be this simple? This sudden?

  "Lina, meet me in the conference room," he ordered, changing course. "And bring the others. We've got thirty minutes until we arrive at PX-2847. Let's make them count."