March 26, 2482 Cypress City,
Mars, Harrigan Villa
16:30 GST-Z (Zulu)
The drone flashed by his head and flew near the giant oak tree in the middle of the courtyard. Johnny took out his flash gun. They'd designed the small laser light gun for target practice. His mother allowed him to use it. He pointed and tracked the drone carefully.
It swooped up high into the air, and he fired the flash gun. The drone blinked and the AI voice squawked from the speakers, "Target hit."
Johnny smiled. The drone flew off on another arc. Somewhere in the distance he could hear a low rumble.-It sounded as though it was coming closer. The rumble grew louder, and he felt the reverberation in his chest. The drone swept to the edge of the Harrigan property above the fence line. Flying high into the air, it arced back down for a strafing run at Johnny. He ducked behind the oak tree for cover.
The drone screamed as it closed on him. He aimed his flash gun and was about to fire when a blue-white blast flew over the fence and struck the drone. An infantry drone flew an arc over the garden and then went behind the house. Johnny could hear it reverse course to head back to the garden. Infantry drones were used by forces to clear potential targets out of the way. It had assumed the toy targeting drone was a threat. Johnny looked into the yard; his drone lay there smoking, the smell of ozone permeating his nose.
Where was his mom? A blast exploded a few houses down. He heard what sounded like hover tanks fire again. The ground shook. There was no doubt the Islamic Bloc colonial military was in Cypress City. Johnny dashed out into the yard, grabbed his drone, and hurried back behind the tree. He threw his flash gun across the yard.
If another IB drone passed by and scanned him while he was holding the flash gun, it might fire on him. He started shaking. Johnny felt the need to shout, to call for his mom, but when he tried, his voice did not want to come out. Best to stay put and let her find me. She will know what to do.
"Mrs. Harrigan, Mrs. Harrigan!" the house AI said, its tone urgent.
"Yes?" Mary Harrigan replied drowsily from her couch. She only half listened to what the AI was saying until the klaxons outside the house began blaring.
"This is an emergency transmission. Martian Civil Government authorities have issued an evacuation order for Cypress City. Martian Defense Forces have fallen. We expect Islamic Bloc forces to conquer the city within the next three hours. All citizens are to report to the tunnel train stations for evacuation. Proceed immediately."
Explosions rocked the Harrigan's villa-style home, cracking the plasticene dome overhead.
Mary jolted upright. She raked a hand through her cropped dark hair, pushing fear aside with the gesture.
Her heart pounding, she shouted, "Viewer off!" The wall screen blinked to black.
Three hours, they'd said, when the IB were already here. Of course, the warning had come too late. It always did on Mars. She darted around the living room, trying to find her son. She didn't see him and was about to call when more explosions rocked the house.
Through the fractured dome above, flashes lit the sky. Fires spread across Cypress City. A series of sharp cracks echoed in the distance as automatic rifle fire rattled down side streets.
Then came the bass-heavy growl of hover tanks crawling up the major thoroughfare, their engines a constant, oppressive thrum beneath the bursts of gunfire.
The invasion had reached them. And if it had, that meant William and the MDF had
failed. The MDF was nothing more than aging Astro Corps veterans and weekend warriors cobbling together defenses with substandard ships and outdated equipment. No wonder they crumbled against a hardened, disciplined enemy like the Islamic Bloc. Mary clenched her jaw. She didn't waste time hoping.
Another blast rocked the house, and the living room windows shattered. Alarms wailed, drowning the comms static. Her mind snapped to Johnny. Where was he?
"Johnny!" she shouted, her voice cutting through the chaos.
Another blast lit the garden crimson, shaking the walls. She had been watching the news feeds and had dozed off. Johnny had been playing. Now, when she needed him most, he was gone from sight.
"Johnny!" she screamed, her voice at panic levels. Where was that kid? Her mind raced. She took a breath and remembered the calming technique she'd used before combat sims at the Academy. Control what you can control. Get your bearings. Understand the situation, she told herself. But this was no simulation. This was real.
She darted to the hall safe, passing a dented footlocker stenciled M. Sullivan, Terran, 2470. The safe hissed open, revealing two laser pulse pistols. She took an energy clip for each, checked their charges, and gripped one handle. Its hum stirred old cadet instincts. She tucked the second pistol into her belt and ran for the garden.
Johnny crouched behind the trellis, holding a broken toy drone. He was twelve already, but right now he looked like a child. His wiry frame trembled under tousled brown hair, hazel eyes wide with fear and discipline. Her training kept him from bolting out of the villa into the line of fire.
"Mom, the IB, they're here!" A drone's searchlight swept past, its whine piercing the smoky air.
"Stay low," Mary whispered, pulling him behind a tree. Plasma smoke stung her nose.
She pressed the pistol into his hands. His eyes wandered. She grabbed his face.
"This is important. Life and death. You hear me?" Her voice was steady, but a tremor of panic seeped in. Johnny sensed her panic and gave her his full attention.
"Grip firm. Aim for the chest. It will twitch in your hands. Be ready."
"Yes, ma'am," Johnny said, his voice trembling but steady.
Her voice settled into that old Corps tone, her touch soft. "They built pulse weapons to drop Zontaerians, seven feet of armored reptiles. One shot at a human, Johnny. Center mass. Don't hesitate."
Johnny looked at her with a level of respect and awe she had never seen before. He was soaking up every word. He knew how serious this was, and that gave her hope. Understanding the danger was the first step to surviving it.
"Dad's never here when we need him," Johnny muttered.
"Control what you can control, Johnny," she urged, her voice firm. She pressed the pistol into his hands, glad for the range drills and simulator lessons he'd had since he was six. His eyes wandered. She grabbed his face. "Your father's doing his best for us. Now focus. Tighten your grip."
"You learned this before I was born, didn't you?" Johnny asked, mimicking her grip.
"Yeah," she said, a sad smile flickering. "Before your dad's Mars dreams."
A high-pitched whine split the air, a plasma energy grenade glowing green as it arced through the sky.
"Run!" she shouted, shoving Johnny toward the gate.
She dove onto the device, arms tight. For Johnny. For the oath. The world turned white hot, and everything vanished in light.