The Trilisk Supersedure Read Online Free PDF Page A

front so he could slip his hand in to scratch the
pink skin where his replacement arm had been grafted on.
    Dammit.
What did they do, put someone else’s arm on me? Why does it still itch so much?
    He
glanced at the graft site on his shoulder. The skin of his new arm had proven
more aggressive than his old skin. It had grown out from the old line between
his new arm and the stump, taking over the original skin of his shoulder. A
star-shaped scar still held on at the edge of his chest where part of the
seeker round that had taken off his arm had flown out of him.
    Maybe
they did too good of a job selecting cells to seed the arm. That skin is just
healthier than the rest. It’s going to take over my whole body…and itch me
insane the entire time.
    “Colonel,”
a soldier addressed him, saluting.
    Holtzclaw
took a deep breath. “Yes?”
    “I’ve
picked up activity in the atmosphere. A big ship. It landed on the other side
of the ruin, down past the broken spire.”
    “Any
chance it’s one of ours?”
    “No,
sir. It’s got to be space force. The signature is nothing civilian, nothing
like I’ve seen anyway, and it’s really big.”
    Just
when you thought things couldn’t get any worse.
    “Tell
Silvarre and get him to the Hellrakers,” Holtzclaw ordered. The soldier rushed
off.
    Holtzclaw
opened a channel to his perimeter captain as he hustled to the artillery. “Possible
incoming,” he said. “I’m showing up at HR-2 for an inspection. Double check the
perimeter drones.”
    “Yes,
sir.”
    “Are
all the Guardians active?”
    “Yes,
sir, though Shredder—that is, number five—has only seventy rounds. It’s on the
north side.”
    Holtzclaw
nodded. It was as he remembered. He simply wanted to double-check everything
and get everyone ready for the worst. If the UNSF was here, chances were it
wouldn’t be a minor attack.
    Hellraker
number two sat beside one of the largest alien plants in the camp. The men
called it Thor. The robotic artillery piece was in the best shape of the four
Hellrakers his unit had once operated. One of the four had been cannibalized
for a few parts too sophisticated for their assault ships to fabricate. The
other two were operable though compromised in one way or another. Thor was just
about perfect. It was a treaded vehicle, five meters on a side, taller than
Holtzclaw, and covered in dull black armor with a group of four stub barrels
pointed at the sky.
    With
the help of the spotting drones, or any other accurate information source, the
machine could deliver anti-personnel shells to any location within thirty
kilometers. The smart shells it launched were rocket/projectile hybrids. They
were also highly configurable and could alter their own course enough to change
the destination by kilometers on the way down. They could also be
directionalized to deliver more power in a particular direction upon impact.
The kill radius of each smart shell when the blast was evenly distributed
extended over one hundred meters.
    The
Hellrakers could launch two shells per second (though the one dubbed Conan had
to fire more slowly), which was often useful for saturating defenses. The
Hellrakers were their only real chance of fighting back if the UNSF had found
them. Though with only three machines left, Holtzclaw knew any engagement with
space force robots could be disastrous for him and his unit. They were simply
running too low on men, machines, parts, and ammunition.
    The
fourteen Guardian robots on their perimeter could buy them time, but those
machines were old and had limited range. As soon as any sophisticated fighting
unit acquired them, the Guardian’s lifespan would be measured in seconds. To
make matters worse, the space force usually fought with support from orbit.
    Silvarre
showed up ten seconds after Holtzclaw. Silvarre had short charcoal hair and a
deep tan. Holtzclaw’s highest ranked subordinate looked lean compared to the
solid block of Holtzclaw’s square body. The man’s cheeks