Decisively Engaged (Warp Marine Corps Book 1) by C.J. Carella Page A

able to travel for up to two miles before its batteries burned off. It had two settings, one non-lethal, the other outright deadly. Both relied on using light pulses to overload their target’s nervous systems, sending anybody caught in its area of effect into convulsions, unconsciousness and, at the higher setting, a nasty death.
    Heather opted for the non-lethal setting. Some victims would die nonetheless; as many as one percent of the targets, depending on the species’ sensitivity to light and sheer bad luck; a simple fall from a standing position could be lethal enough. The rest would be incapacitated for half an hour or longer without lasting ill effects. The weapon glided gently out of her hand and flew to its optimal detonation height.
    “Everyone turn back and close your eyes!” she shouted into the defender’s imps. Some of the civilians outside might not react in time, which was the main reason she’d picked the non-lethal setting. Heather followed her own advice, hunching down against the wall.
    The flash was still noticeable from her protected position; it must have been like staring into a supernova for those outside. The gunfire hitting her position stopped with abrupt suddenness, except for one long burst fired when someone’s clenched hand locked onto the trigger mechanism of his weapon, emptying it in a few seconds.
    She took a quick peek out the window. Every Kirosha within a block radius was down, some lying perfectly still, others writhing in galvanic convulsions, the few lucky enough to have been behind some cover staggering blindly around, functional except for their temporarily overloaded optic nerves. Everyone attacking the walled garage was unconscious, dead or blind.
    Fromm stopped firing the Vehelian laser. There was no need, at least for the time being.
    “Not bad for a remfie,” he told her.
    “Who’re you calling a remfie, jarhead?” she growled back; they were both smiling.
    “Ovals have the nicest toys,” Fromm said, peering over the window frame. “Wish we could get them.”
    “It’ll be another couple decades before we can,” Heather said.
    “Too bad. We could use them. As in right now. We’ve got more trouble coming.”
    She accessed the video feed from the micro-drones overhead.
    Two more large groups were out and about. One was busily setting barricades between them and the approaching Marine relief force. The other was rushing towards the garage. Both groups were several hundred strong, and about a tenth of them were Army assault troops with full combat gear.
    They weren’t out of the woods yet.
     
    * * *
     
    “Those rat bastards.”
    A new bunch of Ruddies had shown up. They’d blocked the main street with a pile of overturned carts and cars, and many of them were armed with rifles and rocket launchers. They engaged Rover Two the second it turned the corner. Bullets hit the frontal force field, sparkling pinpricks of light as they flattened against the solid but invisible surface and hanged on for a second or two before sliding down like so many dead flies. Lots of dead flies. An RPG round flashed overhead and hit a storefront behind them as Rover Two frantically backed up the way it’d come.
    “Gotta go around,” Obregon said. “But let me say goodbye first.”
    He hadn’t used any rockets yet, so he fired off a spread of four 20mm missiles from the box launchers on the van. The drone cameras showed him the results as the salvo detonated right above and behind the barricades, turning dozens of ETs into ground chuck. It wasn’t enough, though. Rover Force might smash through the barricade and kill everyone there, but it would take time and keep them in one place long enough for more enemy forces to converge on their position. They didn’t have time to spare. Or ammo. His imp politely pointed out they’d already gone through ten percent of their basic battle load.
    Better to stay on the move.
    “Follow me,” he told the other two Rovers as he directed