Eric snorted, but thankfully the computer didn’t send that along to the PA. The ranger had a way with words, he would give him that. The man would have made a fine drill sergeant, he’d have bet, maybe even a better master sergeant. It worked too, for the most part. Many of those who had begun to break were now sheepishly moving back into line, and the volume of fire was increasing.

That didn’t mean that the enemy wasn’t getting closer, however.

With a line that thick, and what seemed to be nearly infinite resources, there was just no stopping it.

Eric heard the whine of another lifter rising into the air, and risked a glance over his shoulder. The inner courtyard was thinned out now. Only a few hundred people were left and another lifter was packing them in as fast as it could. He hoped it was enough, but in the end it didn’t make much difference what he hoped.

The Cherokee screamed by overhead, arcing around and bringing its door gunner to bear on the Drasin line. The heavy gun roared, pelting the Drasin with a barrage of lethal slugs, but they just drove over their own dead in a rolling wave of motion. It would have been fascinating to watch were it not for the imminent threat of the situation, Eric thought idly as he kept up his fire.

Like something from a nature documentary, perhaps, or a natural disaster film.

The sizzling pops of the alien weapons filled the air now, forcing the defending line to hunker down low and fire over the top of the berm that was protecting them. Few things stopped a Drasin particle beam, Eric had learned, but a few thousand tons of bermed earth was thankfully one of them.

The beams scorched the far side and turned air to ozone overhead, but he and his people were mostly protected as they fired back in turn. It wasn’t perfect. Sometimes a beam would slide just high or low enough to scour the top of the berm and take a few, or a few dozen, men apart. Sometimes a big rock hidden in the berm would be overheated by the enemy beam weapon and explode violently, tearing troops limb from limb in the process.

“Last lifter is loaded! We’re taking off!”

Eric ducked down, looking back to see that the courtyard was now cleared for the most part, with only men running for smaller planes and choppers.

“Alright, Swenson, take your troops and start falling back!” he ordered. “Get them to the lift birds and the hell out of here!”

“What about you!?”

Eric turned the power on the Priminae weapon up, his face set grim. “Someone has to be the rear guard, Ranger. I’ve got the tools for the job. You don’t. Get your ass moving.”