Doom Star: Book 05 - Planet Wrecker Read Online Free PDF

into the wall of the corridor and producing a metallic-smelling gout of black smoke.
    Gharlane fired. The man’s throat became a red ruin as he cartwheeled away from the corner. Before the pulse rifle could hit the deckplates, Gharlane snatched it out of the air.
    He moved like a giant insect in a blur of motion. Black blood dripped from several of his wounds. Gouged titanium showed in places. His vacc-suit was useless now, torn in a dozen spots.
    One sobbing guardian tried to run away. Gharlane hurled his expended hammer-gun, catching the slow-moving creature in the neck. With a howl, the man flew off his feet and hit the flooring with his chest. Gharlane cracked his left elbow into the last guardian’s face, breaking bones. A punch into the thing’s throat finished it.
    Turning into the corridor with the prone guardian, Gharlane charged down it toward the commander’s cubicle. He connected with his steel-toed boot, caving in the guardian’s forehead. Then he moved his legs like pistons, firing from the hip as he sprinted through the ship.
    He was at eighty-three percent capacity, the enemy shots having taken a toll of his efficiency. He was a master unit cyborg: heavier, and constructed of more durable materials than the combat models.
    I will die soon. I will cease. Chief Strategist Tan defeated me. She cannot be allowed life. I must end her existence .
    A growl alerted Gharlane. His lips drew back into a platinum smile. He spun around the last corner, firing the pulse rifle, adjusting as the pulse ejected from the tube.
    A myrmidon sprang. The red pulse blew it backward, leaving a gaping hole in its thick chest.
    Two others charged. There was no finesse to their attack. Stun impulses struck Gharlane’s body. It felt like steel balls slamming against him. The stun-shots would have dropped a Homo sapien and would have forced a Highborn to his knees. The stuns disoriented Gharlane. Then pain-rejecters momentarily numbed his nerve endings.
    He fired the pulse rifle, and clipped a myrmidon’s shoulder. The attacking creatures snarled, and each stroked his body with their shock rods. Gharlane punched the pulse rifle’s tube into a myrmidon’s gut, achieving penetration. The thing howled, and it clawed his face. The other myrmidon must have recognized that its shock rod was having minimal effect. It dropped the rod and attacked barehanded.
    Gharlane freed his blade, burying it in a myrmidon’s chest. The creature possessed amazing vitality, however. It kept attacking. So did the other, and it was damaging him. His efficiency had dropped to seventy-nine percent, and was dropping several percentage points each second of combat.
    Yanking the blade free, Gharlane slashed and stabbed with cyborg speed and strength. If the myrmidons had held combat knives, it might have ended differently. But they didn’t.
    Gharlane drew a ragged breath as he hurled the gene-warped creatures from him. Black blood soaked his vacc-suit, mingling with red myrmidon blood. Graphite-strengthened bones showed in places.
    One myrmidon flopped on the deckplates, twitching in death. The other mewled with rage, attempting to crawl back into combat. But its back was broken and it made minimal progress.
    Gharlane bent down to retrieve his pulse rifle.
    The door to the commander’s chamber swished open. Gharlane didn’t waste time looking up. With blurring speed, he grabbed the rifle and hurled himself forward. While airborne, he lifted the rifle and paused a fraction of a second. He’d expected more charging myrmidons or humans leaning out of the door. He didn’t expect to see a man standing in the doorway, aiming a long-barreled slugthrower, tracking him.
    Gharlane’s finger twitched. Maybe it was the sixty-eight percent efficiency. Maybe the man was just fast. He beat Gharlane to the trigger. The slugthrower bucked in his hands, and a dum-dum bullet exploded the pulse rifle, causing the pulse-shot to fizzle.
    Landing on the deckplates, Gharlane