Wars are not fought between good and bad people; they are fought by soldiers. The Axi have invaded Col. Without a fleet, they have managed to land an entire legion on the Valen world and begin sweeping over its deserts in an unstoppable blitzkrieg. Hellick Primus is a squad leader in Driven Company of the 173rd Legion. He has a wife and two children, but today, his ten troopers are his only family. Veterans of two campaigns, the troopers of D Co soon discover that Col is host to the worst violence of their careers. Despite their superior technology and military discipline, Hellick struggles against micromanaging leadership, Col's hostile climate, and a crafty enemy to bring each member of his "family" home alive. Staff Sergeant Ramsey is 1st Platoon's sergeant for Bravo Company, 22nd Infantry Battalion. The Col Defense Guard suffers from a peace time mentality, where soldiers' feelings and welfare are placed over training. Ramsey's platoon is a wreck of poor soldiers guided by weak leaders and equipped with outdated hardware. Slaughter ensues. The weight of survival falls on the shoulders of a few professionals, who find themselves locked in conflict, while their friends are murdered around them. In war there are no underdogs; there are only survivors and fodder. In war, there are no heroes; there are only the living and the dead. War is not fair. War is hell. Which side will you choose?

Auszug. � Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

Tungsten Spider

Book One: Advent of Cataclysm

By Dominic M Pileri, Noel Norcross

AuthorHouse

Excerpt

CHAPTER 1

Year: 575, Rise of Man

Day 1

2058Neutral District, Col

D1-6: STNDBY

What the fuck do you think we've been doing, sir? Hellick thought.

The blinking letters appeared as if they had been lasered intocrystal. Crisp and translucent, they gave off the faintest red hue alongtheir etched edges. The text box hung on the left side of his visor screen.The tactical overlays and data that normally filled the rest of his visorhad been filtered out for the moment.

He knew his bitterness had nothing to do with his lieutenant'sorders.

Sitting with his grenade launcher standing between his knees,Hellick Primus appeared calm. His hands were steady, folded on theweapon's butt, his Paw boots still on the armored flooring, and his headwas leaned back so that his helmet rested against a mounted ammunitioncan. Despite his outward tranquility, he was glad his helmet's tacticalvisor was down. His face was slick with sweat.

Hellick firmly reminded himself, An Axi NCO is a rock. I am aprofessional. I do not show emotion ...

After a moment, he added Don't let them see your nerves.

Hellick forced himself to do his pre-combat breathing exercises.Inhale. Hold. Hold. Exhale. He could feel his shoulders slump beneathhis tactical vest. He had not realized that they had been in a pinchingshrug since sitting down.

Hellick tried not to think about what was coming. He knew theimagination would create far worse scenarios than anything his peoplewere about to face. Worse though, he tried not to think of home. It wasan impossible dilemma. Here they sat, ready, feeling trapped in the backof an APC. For close to two hours, first and second squads had beenwaiting to execute what had taken over a year to prepare for. Intensehyper-simulations, the secret deployment, the month of waiting in awarehouse, hoping not to be discovered before this night ... leaving hisfamily.

Bellina.

He shook her from his mind. He could not afford to think abouthis wife, or his two sons. They were a painful distraction. Right now,he could only focus on this family and keeping them alive. Turninghis head to the right, Hellick looked down the line of ten troopers, allsuffering as he was in their own way. Right then, these were his onlychildren. In the next few moments, they would all be looking to Hellickto keep them alive, and he could not afford the drugging indulgence ofremembering his other family. For the time, Hellick had to forget them.He drowned out the last moments he had shared with them. He hid theirfaces as if they never existed. He buried them.

In the steady drone of the armored personnel carrier's idling engine,Hellick ignored Falx Primus Priori beside him, as he fidgeted with histactical kit.

I set the tempo for their emotions, he recited to himself, If I tip, theyfall. If they think I'm anxious, they'll wonder why, creating doubt; doubtturns to fear. Fear is the enemy.

Hellick sat across from Second Squad's NCO, Ruddic Primus, closeenough that their knees touched. Ruddic was also a veteran. Hellicksmiled to himself beneath his visorits subdued surface hiding hisexpression. Ruddic's doing the exact same thing. He's hiding any signsthat the waiting is digging at him.

Both the men knew that the greatest thing they could do for theirsquads, lined in tight rows beside them, was to appear calm, almostsedated. The stretching wait was hell. The squads were locked in aperpetual state of anticipation. The glowing standby command a gougingreminder that at any moment, the soft red letters could shift to green,and their wait would be over.

Choke me, he closed his eyes again, trying to steady his breathing, Iwould kill to be able to smoke. Fuck, I'd kill for just two puffs.

The visor blinked again: STNBY

2059
10 kilometers south of the Neutral District
173rd Legion's Command Post

From within his command trailer, Cipro "The Boar" Legion Commandersat forward in his command and control chair. A node sat on each ofhis temples, their haptic controls at his fingertips and set along hisscalp. His head was surrounded by a semi-circle of command screens,depicting everything from real time tactical maps to live weapon camfootage. Call out boxes displayed his units' strengths and statuses,allowing him to view each of his five regiments as a whole or dig fourlevels down to the squad level. Cipro could see everything: the planet'scities, his legion, the objectives for each phase, the enemy's positions,the ever stretching desert. Kurz, the silicon intelligence, managed thedata silently. The only indication that the program was active was a tinyicon at the edge of Cipro's vision. At this moment, Cipro was literallyan armchair general.

Behind him, his staff sat waiting in their own C2 chairs, watchingthe red timer that hovered above all their screens. The digital clockcounted down the seconds, racing toward zero. The room was silentexcept for the hum of the computers. The clock continued to race,numbers vanishing, evaporating into time. 0000.

2100 hours standard Col time.

Cipro returned to his operation displays. He closed his eyes andheld his breath.

This was the eve, the hour, the second of setting a new precedence.No army had ever conducted this type of operation on such a scale inmodern warfare. Over 12,000 troopers stood by, waiting to risk theirlives, on his order.

A grisly hiss crackled in both his ears. With a licking voice thatsounded like paper crumbling, it simply said, "Do it."

As Cipro Legion Commander turned to look behind him, the screensfrom his right node faded. A lean figure dressed in gray stood at the backof the room, partially cloaked in shadows, despite the trailer's completelighting. The Firefly stood, its arms by its side, head cocked to the right.An eyeless mask, seamlessly connected to its skin like clothing, staredback at Cipro. The blank sockets seared through him. With a shiver heturned to his left, to look at his superior, Nezertain Combined ForcesCommander. The senior officer only stared forward in his typical glare,his steel eyes betraying none of his thoughts.

Cipro deepened his voice, letting it carry the weight of the moment,then spoke aloud. He said, "Tyr." His voice was transmitted to everycommander that sat poised on the planet, every troop leader with a radio,every tactical battle monitor, every pilot, and every one of Kurz's clonedcells. The code word was the command for the invasion to commence.

Within seconds of one another, the blue dots on all of his mapsstirred to life. They flowed like an amoeba, consuming terrain, cities,and the red dots of the enemy in a blossoming explosion.

"May the gods watch over the lives of my troopers," Cipro murmuredto himself.

"The gods do not care about your war," Firefly 7 snarled frombehind him," They are busy preparing for their own."

When Cipro turned around, the Firefly was gone.

2100
Neutral District
Main City Intelligence Hub

The Neutral District's central processing intelligence, the coordinatingmind behind the city's transit, communications, water, power, sanitation,and every other daily function necessary for life on the planet, begansounding alarm claxons through every level of the monitoring station.Its human monitors scrambled to their interfaces, reacting to...

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