Wait for Reinforcements

“Wait here,” you whisper to Kvarau. “There should be a whole bunch of Marines coming to join us.”

“I scent none of your fighters, human.”

“They’ll be here,” you say in a confident tone. You hope you’re right.

Seven minutes pass. The assholes are packing up; looks like they know their time is limited. You turn up the audio feed from your implants as high as it goes. It’s still not enough to hear what they’re saying. Next to you, Kvarau waits with perfect stillness, but you can tell the Jelly is impatient. So are you, but you force yourself to hold position.

Another seven minutes. The assholes are nearly ready to leave, and still no Marines. You’re worried time is running out. If one of them gets in the exo . . .

A footstep sounds behind you and Kvarau, and you whirl around.

Another two hostiles. Man and woman in skinsuits, and both of them training pistols on you. The woman sneers as she raises her gun. “Bad luck for you, surrender-monkeys.” Venusian accent. That means—

The guns go off with loud blasts. You feel impacts across your chest and neck, and your legs give out. Kvarau is already moving toward the two newcomers. The Jelly rips the man’s arms off and is about to do the same to the woman when a cluster of laser blasts punch through the Jelly’s human-like chest and head.

Kvarau collapses to the floor, and your vision fades. The last thing you see is the pool of blood spreading out from your neck.

You have died. . . .