“In a war torn world, one soldier rises above.” #NewRelease #SciFi #99cents RT @ChrisStoesen @RukiaPublishing
In a war torn world, one soldier rises above the ashes to take the fight to the enemy.
As the cities of New Glasgow lay largely in ruins, Sergeant Rachel Duncan leads her squad against the mechanized iron fist of the Federated Union of Planets. Short on men and materials, the odds are against them. Help is coming from other planets but with nothing left but strong willed determination, will they be able to hold their ground until it arrives?
In command of an under-armed platoon and ever increasing responsibilities, can Sergeant Rachel Duncan rise to the occasion, or will she crack under the intense pressure of a world under siege?
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The rifle lay beside her as her back pushed tight against the shattered wall. She was breathing slowly to control her heart rate. The walker's metal joints squealed and its feet pounded the broken pavement of the street below.
Counting in her head, she reached zero. With a flick of a finger, moved the rifle's selector switch to auto. Taking the pistol grip, she raised the weapon to her shoulder and braced it on top of the shattered wall.
The building was an apartment complex in the past. Now, it stood ruined and derelict like most buildings in her city. As she got ready to fire, she noticed the remains of wallpaper still clung to the wall she hid behind. Pastel ducks, bunnies and bears told her that the room she occupied was once a nursery. Now it was a ruin.
The Walker's thumping feet propelled it closer. There, it was two hundred meters down the street. Standing four stories tall, the Walker's torso pivoted from side to side looking for danger. Through the holographic site, she could make out the unit markings. This was a command vehicle of the Seventh Union Mechanized Infantry Division. It was probably the battalion commander's mech based on the antennas protruding from its iron grey head.
The Walker's sprouted small weapon pods from either side of its head. It was malevolence in motion. Walker's projected the power of the Union. More so than their navy as these were the sharp end of the Union's will.
Sweat rolled out from under her dusty balaclava and into her eyes. She tried to blink them clear as movement could attract unwanted attention. Waiting was always the hardest part. Engage too soon and you risked the rounds not being able to penetrate. Too late and they may not arm in time and would bounce off of the mech's armor.
There. She pulled the trigger and unleashed on the walker. With the mech a bare fifty meters from her position, the inferno rounds ate deeply into the armored skin. The first four shots were right on target. They impacted on the cockpit view screen and armor in the head of the beast. The remaining eight rounds walked to the left across the head and into the right weapons pod. Using the recoil to push her over, she fell on her back beside the wall she used for cover.
The weapons pod pulsed with light that brightened the ruin she hid within. She could only feel the deafening explosion. Her ear buds she wore under the balaclava protected her hearing from loud noises but amplified the quiet ones. Blast waves rolled over the building and knocked loose more bricks, dust and debris into the room. Covering her head with her arms, she kept her face from being torn by falling brick and shrapnel.
With her head turned towards the center of her position, she locked eyes with a blue cloth rabbit. The well-worn toy was dust covered. Another reminder of what the Union has done to her home, her people and her planet. She reached out and picked up the toy. The face and ears were threadbare from the attentions of a child now long gone from this ruin. She thought of her own family, her little sister Janice in particular. Janice was only eight when she joined the militia. It was only a year later when the bombs fell on her city and Sergeant Rachel Duncan's only remaining family was the militia.
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