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off.

‘Incoming!’ McWilliams shouted over comms. Suddenly the shuttle banked violently. Bodies slid into each other in the overloaded shuttle as people grabbed hold of whatever they could. Nyukuti thumped into her hard and squashed her against a member of first platoon. From the rotor drone’s lens feed she saw what had happened. The Triple S mechs were targeting the shuttles, trying to distract the Heavy Bastards. Both were burning hard and coming down low over the town in a rain of glittering chaff, bright flares and tiny sensor-confusing Electronic Counter Measure decoys. The air burned red as the Heavy Bastards and the shuttles’ point defence lasers shot missiles out of the air. The shuttle bucked and more of the legionnaires were thrown about. Miska heard the audible snap of a leg breaking, which was followed a moment later by screaming.

‘Medic!’ someone shouted.

Fuck this noise, Miska decided.

‘Hangman-One-Actual to Pegasus-One, you’re going to put down in the plaza at Eighth and River Street. LSM, you’re taking first platoon and going heavy weapons hunting in town,’ Miska told them over comms.

‘Understood,’ her dad replied.

‘Hangman-One-Actual to Pegasus-Two, you’re going to take third and fourth platoon and drop them as close to the enemy Command Post as possible. I’ll follow with second platoon.’

‘Understood,’ Perez replied.

‘Permission for a missile run on the enemy ass once we’ve dropped you guys off?’ McWilliams asked.

‘Negative, Pegasus-One, I want all airborne elements in close air support once we’re on the ground,’ she told the Comanchero pilot. ‘Offensive-Three-Actual, I want you to sweep south along the hill back towards the river, secure the landing pads and any of their VTOLs,’ she told the commander of Third Platoon. She could hear something that sounded like railgun fire bouncing off the assault shuttle’s armour as it came in to land. The cargo ramp was already down, the air fresher near the river. The Pegasus lurched to one side and she heard the screeching of tortured metal as the assault shuttle presumably crushed a car. First platoon piled out of the Pegasus accompanied by the Cyclops. The ramp closed and they climbed into the air to the sound of more tortured metal and the poorly syncopated tattoo of railgun rounds bouncing off the shuttle’s armour. The shuttle lurched as it was hit by a la-la, a multi-role, man-portable, light anti-armour rocket.

She could see Torricone kneeling over one of first platoon’s legionnaires. He was cutting through inertial armour with the penny cutter scissors from his trauma kit to reveal a compound fracture that was slowly painting the deck red.

‘Hangman-One-Actual to Offensive-Two-Actual,’ she said to the lieutenant in charge of second platoon. ‘You’re going to sweep north—’

‘Towards the mechs?’ he asked. He sounded scared. She supposed it was reasonable but she couldn’t wait to get out there.

‘Leave the mechs to the Heavy Bastards,’ she told him. From where she was crouched, by the bulkhead close to the ramp, she could see him nod. He didn’t look convinced.

Miska contacted the commander of fourth platoon, their weapons platoon, and started splitting up his railgun, assault and mortar sections to support second and third platoon, leaving some with her to go after the CP, or command post. She was checking the feed from the rotor drones as she did so.

The Triple S mechs and the Heavy Bastards were exchanging heavy, hurried and therefore often inaccurate fire as they tried to close on each other. In the few moments that she had been concentrating on reiterating the orders to the Offensive Bastards, the jungle behind the Triple S mechs had become a burning mess of splintered branches and dense, bullet-ridden wood. The north part of town had all but been destroyed.

‘Well, shit,’ Miska muttered quietly.

Pegasus 1’s ramp came down as the assault shuttle circled over the Triple S base. Miska caught a glimpse of the Heavy Bastards closing with the Triple S mechs. Outside everything was thunder. Her audio dampeners kicked in, filtering out the excesses of hypersonic booms from large calibre railguns and mass drivers. Below her, on the hillside base, she could see third and fourth platoon securing the landing zone. They were engaged, taking fire. As Pegasus 1 came down to land she watched a la-la, fired from a back-mounted launcher worn by a member of one of the assault sections from the weapons platoon, arc into a concrete strong point and destroy it. Pegasus 1 touched down. She let second platoon rush out ahead of her. They split into three squads and went to cover. Miska and Nyukuti strode out after them.

‘Hangman-Two-Actual to all call signs, please be advised we have an enemy stealthed Satyr somewhere in the city. Last engaged on the corner of Sixth and Pleasant.’ Her dad’s voice. His call sign was ad-hoc but everyone recognised his voice. His addition to the mission might have been last-minute opportunism but it seemed to be working out.

Pegasus 1 took off, leaving Miska and Nyukuti kneeling down in the shuttle’s dust cloud. Miska heard and felt the snap of hypersonic rounds passing nearby. The noise of the incoming rounds was drowned out by one of fourth platoon’s railgunners opening up. She saw strobing red light from one of the assault section’s laser carbines. With all the shit in the air the lasers wouldn’t be nearly as effective.

‘Heavy-One-Actual to Heavy-One-Five and Heavy-Two-Five, detach from the platoon and hunt that enemy Satyr,’ Mass said over the comms link. He sounded distracted. Miska was impressed he’d had the presence of mind to give that order. She glanced north. The Medusa that Mass was piloting flung an eighteen-wheeler at the head of one of the enemy Medusas. The truck caught the enemy mech high on its torso with enough force to send it to the ground hard. Miska was pretty sure she had felt the impact through the earth.

She was glad to see there was only a minimum of fucking about while second and third platoon were each joined by a railgun squad, an assault squad armed with the back-mounted

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