Chapter One Hundred and Fifteen: Marching Through London (Patreon)

Doyle’s eyes bulged when I told him the news. “That’s insane. I’m a Lieutenant.”

“Yeah, well, according to General Windsor, you’re now an acting Major-General.”

“Belessar… Windsor’s British Army, he can’t assign ranks in the U.S. Army.”

“Yeah well, it’s a Stratospheric Guard rank, and according to Windsor it’s been confirmed by Tony Hagman. Whoever that is.”

“General Tony Hagman is Commander of U.S. forces assigned to support NATO in Europe.”

“Then he can give you the rank, right? What’s the big deal?”

Doyle closed his eyes. “What’s the big deal, he says. Requisition all troops available and stop the alien invasion, he says. Whoever Hagman is, he says. Belessar, please don’t ever join the military.”

“One of my teachers suggested I apply to West Point.”

“I will pay you good money to not do that.”

“Fine, fine.”

“So Major-General, sir,” piped up Tucker, “what are our orders?”

“Yours are the same, soldier, keep marching and keep your eyes open.”

“Damn, and I was hoping we got some perks for being the General’s own unit.”

“Keep it up, Tucker, and you’ll find out exactly what perks a Major-General has. Kim. Take a motorbike, go back and tell all those colonels and majors sitting on their backsides to get their troops and follow us on the double. We’re heading to Twickenham.”

“Are they always like this?” Rhodia whispered to me.

“Not always. Times like this are a bit stressful.”

“You can say that again.”

<Nanocloud>: Heads up. Sarnak patrols inbound.

Finally, something we could get out teeth into. “Contact,” I barked. “Possible Sarnak sighting, info from Nanocloud.”

Doyle reacted with his usual decisiveness. “Alpha platoon, prepare to receive visitors. Positions, everyone.”

With practiced efficiency, forty soldiers and thirty Phoenixes sprinted from the trucks and took up positions behind cover.

Cover which was, mostly, too small to shield a ten-foot battlesuit. That was fine by me, if they were shooting at the Greyhound they weren’t shooting at the squishy soldiers.

I leveled my Mass Driver Rifle and began scanning the road.

Sarnak troopers turned the corner, led by one of their Sergeants.

Twenty of them, in formation.

This lot was good. They saw us and reacted instantly. Two fell into positions of cover and started firing, while the rest charged.

At me.

Seventy human combatants opened fire. Bullets and plasma smashed into the Sarnak, as I blurred into motion.

I saw the reaction the moment the first HEPAR shot smashed into a Sarnak. The trooper staggered back, stunned.

Got enough to let Donna hit him with a Boosted Shot.

My turn now. The Sarnak Sergeant was racing towards me, screaming….

Right into the crosshairs of the Mass Driver.

Firing the Mass Driver Rifle involves recoil. A lot of recoil. A lighter suit - like the Boar Armor - wouldn’t have been able to handle it, and I’d have been lucky not to topple over.

With a half-ton suit, though, the recoil feels - less. Just a bit of a jerk backwards.

For the Sarnak Sergeant, it felt a lot worse.

The round smashed into him, knocking him flat, with the force of a 1,000 damage blast.

SARNAK SERGEANT -1000 HP!

SARNAK SERGEANT DEFEATED! +1000 XP!

ONE-HIT KILL! VERY IMPRESSIVE!

FOR YOUR FIRST ONE-HIT KILL IN THE PRESENCE OF A GENERAL OFFICER, YOU GAIN RESPECT IN THE MILITARY.

+1 CHARISMA.

… does my power make any sense?

Whatever. It’s additional control points.

Focus, Andrew, mid combat here.

Fortunately, I wasn’t the only one who’d been distracted for a moment by the Sarnak Sergeant’s death.

The other Sarnak were, too.

Time to earn my keep. I swung the Mass Driver Rifle towards another Sarnak, this time a Trooper.

He didn’t even have time to react before I fired.

SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED! +500 XP!

Shooting time…

SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED! +500 XP!

SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED! +500 XP!

SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED! +500 XP!

SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED! +500 XP!

The Rifle cycled empty. The magazine only held six shots at a time and I needed to reload.

After ‘hammer time’.

Out came my Lightning Hammer, and I charged.

POWERED CHARGE! SARNAK TROOPER -204 HP!

SARNAK TROOPER -106 HP! ELECTRIC SHOCK! SARNAK TROOPER -40 HP!

Another trooper charged in, trying to grapple with me… not a great idea with someone that much taller.

SARNAK TROOPER -106 HP! ELECTRIC SHOCK! SARNAK TROOPER -40 HP!

One of the troopers tried to aim his rifle at me. That deserved special attention...

DEADLY BLOW! SARNAK TROOPER -530 HP! ELECTRIC SHOCK! SARNAK TROOPER -40 HP!

For that matter, another was looking at me funny….

DEADLY BLOW! SARNAK TROOPER -530 HP! ELECTRIC SHOCK! SARNAK TROOPER -40 HP!

More Troopers closed in. They were trying to target my legs, possibly to trip me up. No worries.

I lashed out with a series of kicks.

SARNAK TROOPER -47 HP! SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED! +500 XP!

And now, a bunch of Sarnak had closed on me, trying to pin me down with their plasma rifles and combat knives. Too many, too close.

Sadly for them, this was something the tactical manual had anticipated.

Powerjump launched me twenty feet into the air. A minor expenditure of 100 MP.

Just far enough to land off to the side, giving the Phoenix a clear shot …. At a bunched-up group of nine Sarnak, all frozen in the open from trying to grapple with me.

Except for the one who’d been clutching my leg when I launched… he landed on the ground with me.

SARNAK TROOPER -137 HP FROM FALL DAMAGE!

Phoenix Company opened fire.

Plasma blasts slammed into the bunched-up Sarnak, roasting them in seconds.

SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED BY ALLIES! +500 XP!

The notifications flew thick and fast, as the Sarnak died swiftly.

The one clutching my leg was moaning, but had the presence of mind to aim his rifle at a point which a man really doesn’t need heated up.

Can’t have that. I stepped on the rifle, and the hand holding it.

The sheer weight of half a ton of metal was enough to squash the rifle, the hand, and most of the arm.

The Sarnak Trooper screamed. Purple blood splattered all over my boots.

SARNAK TROOPER -226 HP! CONDITION INFLICTED: CRUSHED LIMB, BLEEDING!

“Put him out of his misery,” growled Doyle from behind me.

I shrugged, then smashed down with the Lightning Hammer. Once. Twice.

SARNAK TROOPER DEFEATED! +500 XP!

The ‘crack’! of the Hummer’s Mass Driver Rifle told me the skirmish was not yet over. The Hummer’s gunner had targeted one of the two Sarnak crouching behind cover, while a series of Boosted shots from Phoenix Company made short work of the other.

Twenty-one Sarnak down.

LEVEL UP! YOU ARE NOW LEVEL 12.

1 ATTRIBUTE BOOST AVAILABLE.

… been a while since I saw one of those….

Doyle walked up to me, frowning. “Belessar. Don’t play with them. Kill them clean and be done with it.”

“I wasn’t playing.” I reflected for a second. “Maybe it looked that way, but I honestly wasn’t.”

“... Fine, I believe you. Move out.”