Moon D2404
A great cacophony ripped through the air as the Pioneers hunkered down, the noise ringing out at the last second before the enemy poured through the tunnels and bolted for their positions.
To Daniel’s interest, this new enemy seemed native to the moon itself. Unlike the Kharnidd’s typical matte black coloration, the creatures’ hides were an irregular hodgepodge of grays and browns. Their limbs were jagged and rough rather than sleek and muscular. They looked like rocks had been hastily chiseled into the form of junkyard dogs, and the sound of their barks was a cross between an actual dog’s bark and a thousand tiny rocks grinding together. Their eyes glowed in bright purples or yellows, and they covered the distance between the tunnels and the Pioneers with an uncanny speed.
Of course, the soldiers weren’t about to lie down and wait patiently for their enemy. The Pioneers opened fire the moment they saw the Xenos, destroying numerous monsters in a heartbeat. The plasma bolts did a good job of vaporizing the attackers’ gravelly bodies and legs, quickly turning them into small piles of rubble. However, as the soldiers watched, small spheres of light flew out from several of those rubble piles. The orbs glowed the same color as the creatures’ eyes and often phased into the ground near where the original Xenos had fallen. After a short period, new stone hounds rose from the place the orbs had disappeared to, the monsters howling before rejoining the fight.
This was an irritating aspect of every Xenos native to this moon, one that the Pioneers had already been briefed on. The creatures' true bodies were the tiny orbs. The stone bodies were simply animated by the orbs’ Psionic powers, easily thrown away and reconstituted at short notice. The Pioneers tried to target these orbs, but they were small and evasive, and there was only so much the soldiers could do before they managed to reanimate a new body. They could try to hit the orbs while they were still in the bodies, but that took exceptional awareness and skill. The Pioneers also had little time before the enemy closed the distance, so they crossed their fingers, blasted away, and prepared for impact.
The Xenos opened their mouths and manifested jaw-shaped Psionic constructs that extended outward and bit at the frontline Pioneer fighters. The men fought back in various ways, with some manifesting powers of their own while others dodged behind the physical defenses or countered with their weapons. Men shouted as they took on injuries, but they gave out better than they got. The Pioneers crushed their rocky enemies with powers and clubs, with most of them eschewing their standard spears in exchange for hammers and maces. Debris flew everywhere as the frontline held firm, each fighter showcasing the grit of a veteran soldier.
Still, the enemy was numerous. More dogs poured into the room even as soldiers in the backline did their best to thin the Xenos numbers with blaster fire. Roughly half of all Xenomorphs destroyed managed to get back in the fight soon afterward, the little orbs of light weaving around club swings and blaster fire before regenerating their bodies. On top of that, the enemy outnumbered the humans 3 to 2, though it felt closer to 4 to 2 thanks to the Xenos’s ability to revive. And that wasn’t the only trick the hounds had up their sleeves.
The E class Xenos were at the frontlines. Behind them, several D class enemies milled around, nipping at the heels of their compatriots and encouraging them to rush headlong into the jaws of death. The D class fighters occasionally looked up and glared at the human soldiers, eyes glowing even brighter as they did. Any human who was glared at found their bodies growing weaker, their attacks growing more sluggish. This debuff, caused by the Capacity Intimidate, didn’t last long, but it was enough to put the Pioneers a few beats behind the fight’s rhythm.
Just as the human line started to buckle under the pressure, their most powerful fighters sprang into action. With a mighty roar, Captain Moravan leapt forward at the Xenos, swinging his large twinblade in broad strokes. He waded through the enemies as an unstoppable juggernaut, simultaneously manifesting a Psionic armor construct and activating his full body enhancement. Due to their sheer magnitude, the Xenos would have overwhelmed him eventually, but the lieutenants quickly backed their captain up. Lieutenant Alron threw a Psionic Grenade with one hand while firing off a circular laser with the other, covering Jameson and Arrivo as they jumped forward to cover the CO’s rear. Together, they did a lot to turn the fight back in humanity's favor.
In the meantime, Daniel had been hanging back and conserving his energy. He’d been taking his newly acquired rifle for a spin, destroying quite a few of the Xenos permanently with well-placed shots to the flying orbs. His skilled marksmanship made him highly useful in this fight, even without manifesting a Protocol. On top of that, He’d manifested the Manicae Medici and healed several men who’d been close to death. However, the more Daniel watched, the more he realized that further stinginess would get soldiers killed. The company had avoided any deaths so far, but that wouldn’t last much longer without the full support of a Protocol. He considered Rapheal and the others, but one option stuck out as the clear favorite.
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His fourth and final Protocol.
“Engaging Gabriel Protocol, [Standard] Power”
…
Ankara
“What happened?” Jan Stanoslav demanded, stepping toward Jordan in a mix of incredulity and anger, “What do you mean, trapped?”
“Their shelter is outside the new perimeter,” Jordan explained grimly, “A collapsed building kept them from evacuating in time.”
“Doesn’t their shelter have any other exits?” Macneil piped up, the young man’s face shrouded in worry.
“No safe ones. They were one of the last shelters given the word to leave. Right now, they’re barricading themselves in and waiting for help. The Kharnidd seem more focused on attacking the new shield than the people in the shelter, but that won’t last long. The police aren’t equipped to deal with this.”
“But we are,” Ramirez observed, his typically sanguine attitude gone as he locked in once more.
They all turned and looked at Peralta, who rubbed his chin skeptically, “I don’t know about this one, boys. We have an obligation to recover until we’re called to return to the fight.”
The captain held up a hand, forestalling any incoming outraged comments before continuing, “I’ve already contacted the relevant authorities. I’m sure they’re getting a rescue team together as we speak.”
Jordan stepped forward angrily, saying, “The government can’t spare many resources in a battle like this, especially for civilians who can’t contribute. Any rescue might be delayed until it’s too late.”
Peralta looked uncomfortable, but he stood his ground and rebutted, “And if we go alone, we’re liable to get ourselves killed. Even if we succeed, we’ll be disobeying orders and breaking formation.”
Jordan was a second from walking away and bringing the others with him, whether Peralta and the vets were coming or not, when the entire group got a new message: ”Meet me here.”
A waypoint appeared on their HUDs near the new perimeter and close to Lucy’s shelter, and Jordan didn’t hide his smile. The message was from his father, whom he’d contacted while talking with Lucy. Nobody said a further word as the entire team moved out; the debate was pointless until they met up with their commanding officer.
They found Markus standing in front of a tall hotel building, arms folded and standing up straight as he observed the military personnel and vehicles passing him on the street. As the other Pioneers approached him, he turned and said without preamble, “I’m going after Ken and Lucy. Are any of you willing to support me?”
Jordan held back a small cheer, instead choosing to salute alongside the other rookies and saying, “We’re with you, Colonel.”
Markus remained stony-faced at the use of his rank, but the twinkle in his eyes gave away his mild amusement at his son’s antics. Peralta cleared his throat in trepidation, asking, “Sir, can I talk to you?”
“No,” Markus responded, face remaining stern yet not clearly unkind as he faced his subordinate directly, “We don’t have time for an extended conversation. I know what you’re going to say Captain, so let’s cut to the chase. You want us to obey our orders and recuperate. You want us to think of the bigger picture. And you’re not a bad man for feeling that way. Battles are won with discipline and following orders. Risking ourselves on a personal rescue mission like this arguably jeopardizes the city's defense.”
Markus’s frown grew deeper, as if those words felt distasteful in his mouth, before he continued, “It’s the classic dilemma: ‘Save the many or the few’. ‘Look at the big picture or prioritize the person right before you.’ Well, here’s my response: I’ve spent my entire career doing both. Saving the little guy and finishing the mission. And I’m not going to stop now. Now, are you with me or not?”
Peralta had a complex look on his face as he responded, “And what if Command has already planned a rescue mission? Won’t we get in their way?”
“Already checked,” Markus shot back, “Command is planning to leave them to their fate. Can’t spare the manpower to bail them out.”
Jordan tried not to look too smug as he watched Peralta’s expression change again. Now, the captain simply looked accepting as he stood up straight and saluted, “I’m with you, sir. Let’s bring’em home.”
The other veterans followed suit, and Markus turned his back and started walking toward the shield at the end of the street, barking out orders, “I’m running low on Mental energy. I’ll rely on you men to handle some of the small fry as we run. Limit the pressure on me. If we get attacked by a heavy hitter, I’ll distract it. You finish the mission.”
They all nodded, and the Pioneers saw their HUDs light up with another waypoint. Markus clarified, “This is the nearest entrance to the shelter we can easily reach.”
A line of sapphire light appeared in their vision, proceeding down the street and turning into one of the buildings ahead, “This is the route we’ll be taking. We’ll be moving across the rooftops to make it harder for the Thralls to come after us. What rooftops remain, anyway. Any questions?”
When none were forthcoming, Markus had one more thing left to say: “Keep up.”
And with that, they were off.
"'Within the Heart of a Raging Blizzard, A Second Chance is Born'
Mark Frostborn has lost everything. At the foot of the Caelar Mountains, he wanders broken and bleeding through a merciless blizzard. When he finally collapses, his death is all but certain.
The sudden appearance of an enigmatic master changes everything. Mark is whisked away and presented with an entirely new destiny. The master offers to train him in the Heavenly arts and shower him with countless treasures, in exchange for one simple thing. The master’s daughter is destined to go on a perilous journey to the northernmost peak of the continent. Shadows stalk on the horizon, but success could unlock unimaginable power. She could use a tough bodyguard, and the master has decided that Mark is the right man for the job.
But Mark has his own objectives, starting with punishing the people who took everything from him. Will he manage to avenge himself while honoring his new oaths? Will he be able to face the lurking dangers, which even the master fears? Or will he perish, forgotten and disgraced?
What to expect:
A unique spin on the xianxia genre, taking place in a broken, frozen world.
Strong focus on battle and survival through tough situations.
Meaningful romantic and comedic elements that form a warm center within a dark world.
Broad geopolitics and major battles, especially later on.
Inspired by Cradle, Bastion, and The Unintended Cultivator."
What should the title of my next book be?
