– by Lord Furio

We could feel the ground trembling beneath us as the fleet descended on our home world. Seconds before the first shot was fired, someone asked over the comms, “you think we even stand a chance?” I don’t know if it was out of fear or hate that I fired that first shell. The sound of the 1200mm ‘Behemoth’ cannon was, simply put , frightening. It was the highest pitched scream and the lowest roar I’d ever heard at the same time – something out of nightmares. HQ hadn’t given the command, but it didn’t really matter. No point in conserving ammunition at this point anyway. This was our last stand and if we didn’t put every last bit into it, we were as good as dead.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing sergeant?” asked my lieutenant.

“I’m fighting this war, sir!” I shouted over thunderous sound of the cannon.

“God damn it, sergeant! Carry on!”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I saw the remaining artillery batteries begin firing prematurely at the incoming drop ships. Every shot was a kill shot. One by one we downed ships filled with their elite infantry. It was of little use; we still couldn’t see what used to be a beautiful sunrise behind their metal clouds of destruction.

Soon after that little conversation, their ships actually began increasing in number. It wasn’t long before the shorter ranged flak artillery had to start filling the skies with their own debris. Hues of red, yellow, blue and black blotted the sky. It would have been the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen had this been any other day…

“Gorgeous,” I whispered under my breath as the cannon was reloading.

“Sergeant. Sergeant!” my lieutenant shouted trying to gain my attention.

All I wanted to do was lay down and watch as the scene unfolded. There’s a certain solitude to be had in knowing how you’re going to die. But back to reality… The worst part about all this is not knowing what to shoot. The thing about an orbital invasion is that even if a ship is destroyed, they stay rather intact and they don’t change course. One way or another, all they’re ships are going to land. Your only hope is that your position doesn’t become its landing zone.

“Hey, is that the sun?” asked corporal Barone staring at the horizon.

“Since when did our sun turn blu-… Shit!” the lieutenant exclaimed. “Command, this is Lieutenant Hickman, 82nd Artillery! We’ve got an incoming orbital strike from the main fleet, orders?”

“Lieutenant Hickman, this is command. No further orders.”

Our weapons didn’t have the range, let alone the speed to get past their defenses. The charge of their orbital strike was like a massive explosion just hovering in space. We were told that the strike was capable of completely eliminating our largest of provinces. The ship being on the horizon made things just so much worse. Instead of taking out a single target, it was just going to scrape us all off the edge of the planet, much like taking a blade to, well, anything. With all of the artillery batteries taken out, their drop ships would land untouched; and God knows not even our heavy tanks are going to match what comes out of those drop ship doors.

“What’s with the comm silence?” asked some private.

“Shut your mouth, command’s makin’ an announcement,” I snapped.

“Men, this is command. I’m not going to beat around the bush. That orbital strike being aimed right at your and it is going to kill you. Before you go, just know one thing… Your deaths will not have been in vain. Your brothers, sisters, fathers and mothers will continue fighting for what you and our ancestors died for millennia ago – freedom. By the time we’re done here, there won’t be a single bullet waiting to be fired nor a prayer waiting to be had. Before I go, men, remember one thing – waste not, want not. Don’t waste a single fucking bullet, shell or cartridge ‘cuz we sure was hell don’t want those sons of bitches missing out on any of what this planet has to offer!”

I don’t know what was more arousing, the tone of General Roderick or that I could actually hear the orbital strike charging literally half a world away. In just a matter of seconds it would all be over. Being so motivated to die is a weird feeling – it’s bliss. I aimed the cannon at the horizon, brought it up 10 degrees, and prepared to fire. I gambled all my life; the Republican Guard was the only real job I’d ever had. I knew this shot could never hit the ship, let alone destroy it, but what the hell did I have to lose? I closed my eyes, let out my last breath, pulled the trigger… and dreamt about tomorrow.