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he cleared the hole, and debris fell and pocked against the wall. A second later, the sporadic fire became a continuous fusillade.

“Reckon you pissed ‘em off, mate,” Dyffid said.

“Sergeant Bana to any available troopers, grab anything you’ve got and come to Section 9, Room 212. We’re in the dunny here!”

All five of them found as much cover as they could and began returning fire.

* * *

Ripley followed her sister Sonya as she moved through the base, searching for the location of the second explosion. Comms were spazzy, but Anderle took one look at their light armor and tossed them guns and quick orders. Reports were coming in of fighting in the rec hall and main vehicle bay. She knew that was where their father was along with Rex, Drake, and Shadow. She didn’t have time to worry about it. The whole picture was hard to put together, but clearly they were under heavy attack by the Pushtal.

They passed a door and saw Yanow, the female Lumar who was, she supposed, the company executive for Big Strong Fist. Nobody quite understood how it worked, only that it seemed the females were as smart as the males were dumb. It was either an incredibly well-kept secret, or something no one had known until recently.

“What is happening?” she asked. “Ifka does not answer comms.”

“The Pushtal are attacking,” Ripley said.

Yanow looked at her for a second, then nodded and disappeared back the way she’d come.

“Well, that was interesting. Think they’ll help with the fighting?” Sonya asked.

“No clue,” Ripley said.

“So much for a bloody truce,” Sonya grunted, her ears twitching.

“I think it’s just the cats.” Ripley shoved her sister lightly.

“What makes you think that?”

“The Vergola wanted this over as badly as anyone else. They had to have been bleeding credits for months. Otherwise why agree to the ceasefire? Besides, our Zuul kin wouldn’t play that game. Veska was too confident her captain was satisfied with who we are, and I believe her.”

“I still can’t believe we’re some kinda rockstars to the Zuul.” Sonya’s focus remained ahead as they trotted, but she swiveled an ear back toward Ripley.

“Yeah,” Ripley agreed, glad to break the tension. “You ain’t nearly pretty enough.”

Zuul hands were not quite built the same as Human. Despite this, Sonya managed a believable middle finger. She pushed the control on a door, which slid aside to reveal a trio of Pushtal, who appeared just as surprised.

“Bloody shit!” Ripley barked and backpedaled, promptly tripping over her own feet.

Sonya was a little more on the ball, and she clawed at her sidearm. As Ripley fell backward in slow motion, her pilot’s mind played out what would happen next in painful clarity.

The Pushtal’s weapon rose and lined up with Sonya’s face. Ripley knew she was about to watch her sister die. Sonya did the only thing she could do, continuing to draw her weapon even as the Pushtal gun barrel loomed large, a tunnel about to change their lives. Ripley screamed inside her head—why hadn’t they been moving with weapons ready?

“Raahhhhr!” The scream projected from behind them, and in a split second a blur of dark skin and arms shot past and hit the nearest Pushtal like a missile.

Sonya got her gun out and up, but there was only one of the three Pushtal left. She shot it while it gaped at her, keeping her gun at the ready. Ripley hit the ground and reached for own, but there was no need. A Lumar—Ulan, she realized—had hit two of the Pushtal like a rugby player. Go All Black! she thought.

Even though the Lumar had four arms, two hissing and spitting Pushtal couldn’t be fully restrained, and neither Zuul had a shot. Good thing for Ulan he had help. Two more Lumar jumped over the sisters to join the fray. Good for the Lumar, but bad for the Pushtal. Despite how much she hated the cats, Ripley had to look away as the three Lumar used their multiple powerful arms to dismember the Pushtal. Don’t need a clear shot when you can literally tear your enemy apart.

“Fucking hell,” Ripley gasped and wished she could block her ears from the rending sound. It might not have been so bad if the Lumar weren’t laughing as they tore the Pushtal limb from limb.

“Zuul young.”

They both turned to find Yanow watching them.

“Zuul young, go find your others.”

“What about the cats getting in this way?”

“We have this,” Yanow said as dozens and dozens more Lumar poured through behind her. In moments they ran and leaped down the hall, through the door, and over the mutilated dead Pushtal. “Your kind are in need of you.”

Sonya straightened, made a fist with her right hand, and brought it to her chest in the salute the Zuul used. Ripley followed suit. Yanow nodded her acknowledgment, and the two wasted no time rushing back toward the armory. Wherever their people were, they’d all need weapons.

* * *

“There’s just too damn many of them,” Bana said, shaking his head. He rammed another magazine into his battle rifle. Drake could see the heat rising in shimmers from the barrel. All their weapons were so hot they were getting difficult to handle. Even in a sub-zero atmosphere. If that weren’t enough, ammo was running low.

“If we could just get to our CASPers,” Drake growled, not for the first time.

Ripley and Sonya came sliding into the piles of debris and bodies, looking around in horror. Drake knew what it must look like. While a dozen bodies were Pushtal, many were Human as well. A few were being tended to by Dyffid, but they couldn’t disengage. Every time they tried, the Pushtal tried to rush.

“Hope you brought presents,” Drake said, checking his web gear to see how many magazines were left.

“Of course,” Ripley replied and

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