pulled him under.
Villain felt herself fall. Pain filled her chest. Something hard hit between her shoulder blades. She sent orders to her legs. They twitched in response. Damn. Something moved to the left. She brought an arm up. Light burped. A Naa ceased to exist. Villain felt it again. The power, the joy, the satisfaction. And why not? She was damned near immortal, wasn’t she? Villain saw another figure emerge from the ground, made the necessary computations, and killed it.
Gunner understood the situation immediately and lowered his body to the sand. By doing so he protected his vulnerable legs and allowed the bio bods to low-crawl out of his cargo bay, a rather wise decision since the air was full of flying lead and sizzling energy beams.
Gunner felt someone slap a ready button inside his cargo bay, released the hatch, and fired his main armament. The results were spectacular.
Like all quads, Gunner was equipped with four gang-mounted energy cannons. These fired in alternating sequence, but so rapidly that they appeared to be one. Sand melted, rocks exploded, vegetation burst into flame. Naa warriors stood, fired their shoulder-launched missiles, and vanished as blue death cut them down.
There was return fire as well. Explosions rippled across the surface of Gunner’s armor. Many hit the bull’s-eyes painted on both of his flanks, but none did any real damage. Once down, with weapons activated, an assault quadruped was like a combination tank and pillbox. Absolutely indestructible to anything less than heavy artillery, another quad, or attack aircraft.
Gunner sent a mental command. A hatch opened just aft of his weapons turret. An electronically driven gatling gun emerged, shot upwards on its heavily armored arm, and opened fire. Dirt fountained fifty yards away as a group of four Naa tried to position an antitank gun and failed. The gatling gun fired more than six thousand rounds a minute and simply erased them from the surface of the planet.
Roller edged his way around Gunner’s bow and took a look. Booly was down and probably out, Wutu was about 20 percent effective, and the newbie wasn’t much better. Both continued to fire but couldn’t move. Rossif had tripped on a cable but had escaped without damage and was kicking some serious ass. Jones had taken three missile hits, all within the space of about three seconds, and exploded. Sheltered by Gunner’s metal bulk and dug in around his sides, the bio bods were okay.
Roller sighed. Air support would have been nice, but the Navy was supposed to supply that, and they weren’t around. It seemed that the brass refused to provide them with security on the ground. It was all part of the eternal pissing match between the Navy, the Marine Corps, and the Legion. He had damned little choice but to save what he could and haul ass.
“This is Roamer Seven. I have assumed command. Roamers Eight and Ten ... work your way over to Five and pull his module. Roamers Nine and Eleven ditto the newbie.”
Kato swore. silently and eyed the distance between Gunner and Wutu. If was fifty yards or so and looked twice that. She looked at Imai, he nodded, and they ran.
Wutu continued to fire, covering them as best he could, but the Naa were determined to bring him down.
O‘Brian and Yankolovich had worked their way around to the opposite side of the quad. Villain lay on her back, firing when the Naa made a run at her, but otherwise inactive. Successive missiles had destroyed both of her legs, and a small electrical fire was burning in the vicinity of what had been her right knee. O’Brian could see the sparks. Yankolovich looked his way, nodded, and they ran.
Villain looked up. She had damned little choice. The sun had cleared the horizon and was directing all of its strength into the vid cams that served as her eyes. She ordered them to iris down but nothing happened.
Bullets hit her torso, spanged off, and screamed away. They were annoying but no more harmful than
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