The powerful signal blast couldn’t be missed by a blind man, unlike the compressed burst signals used for communications. Deirdre’s systems locked onto it instantly, and she redirected her squad accordingly.

“Squawk received. We’re almost there, Commander,” she said, her ground-eating strides intended to keep her low to the ground.

“Watch out. These guys are packing Priminae-scale hand lasers,” Steph said. “Even if your armor held up to one of those blasts, the heat would likely cook you in your suit.”

“Understood. I don’t think they’re in any position to resist, but you never know what a cornered rat will do,” Deirdre answered, then switched to squad channels. “Laser protocols, Marines! Pop smoke!”

“Yes ma’am!”

The Marines had carried diffractive smoke canisters, which were capable of spewing out dozens of cubic meters of thick smoke with suspended Mylar particles, since the Drasin invasion. The ploy wasn’t perfect, but it would attenuate lasers effectively enough.

As soon as the smoke filled the battlefield, beams of lasers could be seen visibly slicing the air and lighting it up. The smoke blunted the lasers and redirected some of their energy in random directions. Colonel Conner’s suit switched over to augmented reality vision as visibility went to effectively zero, highlighting her Marines using the IFF—identification, friend or foe—signals from their suits.

The networked computers also worked overtime trying to track laser telemetry using the visible beams in the smoke, giving the squad the locations of enemy forces as they fired.

Battle rifles roared in the smoke, but Deirdre remained focused as she closed on the commander’s location. She vaulted a boulder and skidded to a stop on the other side. She was surprised to find the commander with nothing more than goggles and an oxygen mask to protect him from the moon’s thin atmosphere.

“Are you injured?” she asked, trying unsuccessfully to link to his suit for a medical report.

“Only my pride,” he smirked under the mask, and then started coughing. “And, you know, maybe my body a little.”

She glanced over to where the lieutenant was taking cover nearby. “Lieutenant Chans, your status?”

“Intact.” Milla waved. “Body and suit.”

“Roger that,” Deirdre said. “I can scan your vitals. Hold position. We’re securing the area.”

Milla nodded. “I am going nowhere, Colonel.”

Deirdre checked the commander’s air and clucked. “Almost out of air, Commander. You flyboys like to cut things close.”

“What can I say, Colonel, I live on the edge.”

“I can see that, Commander. Here. I’ve got a spare.” She handed him an oxygen bottle from her rescue pack.

“Thanks,” Steph said and coughed, swapping the bottles.

“Just keep your head down. I’m calling for dustoff shortly.”

“No problem. I’m not going anywhere until the nice flying machine arrives.”

“Flyboys,” Deirdre snorted, looking over the boulder. “Those boys you ticked off are determined—I’ll give them that much.”