Sayeeda slapped a spare magazine into the stock of her submachine gun and then hung the weapon around her neck by the sling. The storm of sand kicked up by the howling lift fans of the tank would have scoured her skin had she not been wearing the protective rad suit. The plasma weapon was a poor choice as the grit would adsorb a bolt as effectively as an armor plate would. The tank began to accelerate away from the mesa, Canek wasn’t running, but he wanted to open the distance between the base of the rock spire and the tank. That would allow him to engage at something closer to the tanks optimal range and give its close in defences more time to react to threats. The torrent of fire from the LAV slacked as one of the guns jammed, its chamber fouled with dust and melted matrix from the feed line. A moment later a second gun fell silent as it too succumbed to the abuse. 

“We have to get up the mesa,” she called, her voice clear over the comms even though it would be all but inaudible in the din. Enemy heavy weapons would be able to fire on the group out to the end of line of sight, which would be several miles. Even if they were able to pull back, they couldn’t finish their sensor grid, and they couldn’t simply relocate without going back and calibrating the sensors. Taya had manage to shake off her shock and was pressing herself tight against the rock, her pistol gripped tightly in her hands. Sayeeda picked up a rifle that had fallen beside her, a bayonet affixed to the end of the barrel. Mechanically she stripped the clip and reloaded it before firing two rounds into the sky to make sure it was clear.

“Canek, cease heavy weapons fire on the mesa, break,” she commanded.

“Infantry elements hold your position and provide a base of fire, break.” 


“Taya I know you are scared but you have to come with us, there is too much crap flying around down here. Neil popped up and fired two quick rounds at a target she hadn’t seen.

“How are we going to make it that far over open ground?” Neil asked.

“AID, lift the LAV and fire all smoke launchers, proceed north west at best speed,” she commanded. The fans of the nearby vehicles howled to life as its last gun went silent. The barrel shimmered brilliant white even through the haze of sand, overheated from continual firing. Bullets began to sparkle off its armor a moment before it seemed to erupt in bright white smoke as its launchers lit their charges. It slid off to the northwest, drawing the storm of enemy fire with it.

“Go!” Sayeeda shouted and leaped to her feet. A pair of men carrying machine pistols were only twenty feet away, looking in shock at the departing LAV. She dropped both men with two round bursts to the center of mass and then raced across the open field to a narrow envagination in the foot of the mesa. A crumbled ledge ran upwards and she ran along it as fast as she could. Neil and Taya were behind her, she could hear the crack of Taya’s pistol, though if Niel wasn’t firing she doubted the girl had any target outside her own head. Junebug hoped she wouldn’t wind up taking a slug in the back from the panicky girl. A man in desert rags carrying a wide mouthed mob gun stepped out from behind a rock. He had just enough time to register shock before Sayeeda drove the point of the bayonet into his sternum. Blood gouted from the man's lips and ran down over his bearded chin. Sayeeda followed him down, placed a boot on his stomach and twisted the bayonet free. Neil was firing now, back down towards the ground where their elevation had revealed hidden enemies. The mesa shook as though from a hammer blow as another of the tanks shells crashed into the side of it. Canek must have spotted a heavy weapon and been unable to risk holding his fire. That was fine with Junebug, given that she had survived learning about it.

The ledge ended abruptly in a shear climb of perhaps twenty meters. Fortunately there was a narrow crevice, tight enough that she could brace herself into it. With a running leap she bounced up the ascent in a series of left to right hops, a feat she couldn’t have performed if she wasn’t shot full of adrenaline, and whatever else the Terran’s had put in her system. Bullets whizzed past her from below. Someone, above her, one of the enemy screamed and toppled forward in a lazy summersault, his body bouncing of the ledge below with a wet crunch. Junebug looked down to see Taya with her smoking pistol in hand. The age of miracles apparently had a while yet to run. She crested the mesa a moment later, rolling onto her stomach and slinging her submachine gun. The summit was a broad flat plateau a hundred feet across and covered with boulders and scrubby desert trees. A dozen men stood along the rim firing down at Canek’s infantry. Resisting the urge to open fire she instead pulled a spool of rope from her belt, secured it to a  nearby boulder and dropped it back down the crevice for Neil. 

“AID, carrot targets and import to infantry elements,” she commanded. On the field below the hidden snipers lit up on the infantry huds, Sayeeda imagery overlaying the swirl of dust and smoke on the flats below. One of the men, a loader serving a large belt fed weapon turned to grab a fresh drum and saw her. He opened his mouth to shout but before he could she swung her weapon up to her shoulder and hurled him and his gunner to the floor in a spray of blood and burning flesh. A half dozen guns opened fire on her and she ducked behind a rock, pulling a grenade from her belt and lobbing it one handed in the general direction of the enemy.