The Lazarus War: Legion Read Online Free PDF Page B

fire,” I barked at Mason, waving a hand behind me towards Saul.
    Three troopers made their way through the smoke and dust. My suit flagged them as the team under Captain Baker, and as they approached I saw that he was still in command.
    “Moving on objective, sir!” Baker rumbled. He saluted me.
    I sighed, shook my head. “Ah, the fabulous Baker Boys. Is this all that’s left of your outfit?”
    All three survivors were battered, covered in xeno gore and severely rattled. Behind his face-plate, Baker looked much like he did in real life: middle-aged, grizzled, a veteran soldier a little past his prime. He pulled back his thin lips and flashed a toothy grin.
    “Yes, sir,” Baker said. He shook his head. “Fish heads got us on the way down. Lost two skins before we could get on-station.”
    “Doesn’t look like the other teams even touched down, so you have that honour at least.”
    Baker indicated towards Saul. “But it’s the Legion that claims the HVT.”
    “Only the best need apply.”
    He eyed Mason, saw her blank combat-suit. “So New Girl isn’t official yet?”
    “Well, if she fucks up she can always apply to join your outfit.”
    I clocked the two behind Baker, both in unmarked suits.
    Baker flared his nostrils and sighed. “I’d have her any day of the week, but that’s another story. Ready to assist on the bounce when you are, sir.”
    “That’s appreciated. We’re moving on the shuttle bay.” I uploaded my tactical plan to Baker’s suit. “Less than three hundred metres.”
    “Solid copy.” He turned to the two fresh-faced simulants behind him. “You heard the man – move out!”
    Visibility had improved, but only slightly. There were flashing blood-red emergency lamps in the walls and ceilings, but black smoke pumped from the air-recyclers.
    “This station is experiencing a critical emergency,” the mainframe AI repeated, over the PA. “All hands evacuate.”
    “Where’s your sergeant, Laz?” Baker asked me, as we picked our way through the corridor. “Has she gone and left—”
    Before he could complete the sentence, another primary-form sprang up ahead. The Krell slammed into Baker, knocking him sideways. One of his squad opened fire but in the tight confines of the corridor lost his nerve. The Krell slashed its enormous bladed forelimbs through Baker’s body, ripping open his combat-suit. The station atmosphere had not yet fully drained, but was seriously depleted: Baker started gasping for air, clawing at his face-plate.
    “Oh fuck!” one of the fresh-faces shouted.
    The Krell whipped its head around, double-jointed jaw opening to expose row on row of shark teeth. I fired, sending bright lances across the corridor, but the xeno was too fast. It cleared the dead captain’s body, vaulted right into one of the privates. In less than a second, all of Baker’s squad had been reduced to bloody ribbons.
    I put three more shots into the xeno’s armoured body. Carnage complete, the alien was dead.
    I caught the panicked look in Saul’s eyes; the look that asked, “Am I actually going to make it out of this alive?” But he didn’t voice the question and I had no time to baby him.
    I activated my comm. “Jenkins! You read me?”
    The comm-link hissed: “Affirmative. Moving through Filtration.”
    “Casualties?”
    “Negative, but it’s been damned close.”
    “We’re coming up on your six.”
    “I read you on the scanner.”
    Mason, Saul and I jogged into what was once a filtration plant. A tangled network of pipework sat under a heavy plasglass dome. I guessed that water on Maru Prime was a serious commodity, perhaps more so than it was elsewhere in space. This was a recycling centre that had now fallen into disrepair. Liquid gold, lost to the war, pumped from exposed plumbing. Between the sagging remains of two protective plastic tents, the survivors crouched. Jenkins half-stood on our arrival.
    “You took your time, Major,” she said with a dark