"So this is it, the triumph of democracy?"
Folding his hands before him in a mock prayer gesture, the aging Pantoran froze with a fanatical, somewhat foolish expression on his face. A smile hadn't left his lips for several hours—the entire time our squad had been marching in the middle of an army column that was slowly but surely conquering Orto Plutonia.
But when this idiot saw our fleet coming in for a landing...
I won't argue, it looked epic. Huge ships, slicing through the clouds, broke through the thick overcast using special weather shells and their own shields. Like something out of mythical legends, they descended to the ground—majestic and just fucking awesome in all their glory, but!
They're just ships, for fuck's sake, not goddamn angels or something. So I tried to stay away from the eccentric Pantoran, because who knows what might pop into his head, and I'd be the one cleaning it up.
His run across the planet with us was enough. Eh, and everything had started so well; we were just supposed to guard the construction crews.
Initially... according to the plan, so to speak. My Helldivers were supposed to search the planet and set up an outpost here. A small fort with planetary defense to protect Pantora—a large moon with a population highly loyal to the Helldivers.
The blue-skinned humanoids were pleasant folks. Responsive, kind, and likable...
"Well, naturally. Given the fleet accompanying me, there's nothing surprising about those fake smiles. The poor bastards probably shat a whole brick factory when they saw this entire horde in their sky."
But those were all minor downsides of our acquaintance, because after a short talk, a rather interesting thing came to light—the planet was inhabited by savage tribes of Talz, furry, aggressive cannibals; hell, they weren't even against eating each other.
These assholes, standing two and a half meters tall, were excellent at hiding in the snow and setting up ambushes for our patrols and engineering squads. They had great body control and were good with spears, plus they could hurl them a good hundred meters!
Only thing is, against ship cannons, walkers, and several thousand soldiers in formation... basically, it didn't help them much.
"And I'm telling you, we're fighting here for grapes." The passing soldiers—my personal squad of Shock Troopers, recruited from the best... were once again chatting about things they shouldn't. "The Boss loves all those fruits and berries, so when the blue guys offered him free supplies of exotic produce from their planet, he would've conquered the rest of the system for them... Um, no offense about the blue guys."
"It's quite alright, I am—not ironically—blue in color." A young Pantoran in military uniform awkwardly spread his arms. Dressed completely inappropriately for the weather—I'd even say the total opposite of it—the kid smiled crookedly, looking shyly at his companions walking beside him. The son of the current Chairman of the Assembly, the main governing body on Pantora, he looked no different from his father, who was fanatically staring at the warships. "But... is that not a joke about the fruit? My father and the members of the Assembly concluded an extremely profitable contract and spent a long time bargaining, discussing..."
"Whatever you say, little brother, but I assure you, if you didn't have those frost berries, the Shadow of House Scryvok would've stripped you to the bone." Smirking under his helmet, Myrkr clearly blurted that out before he thought, because in the next second, the guy was looking around fearfully, afraid someone would snitch to my lovely deputy—and the fact that I was walking right behind them... Idiots. "And the Boss wouldn't have taken part in the negotiations personally..."
"Why don't you ask him, maybe he'll answer..." Booker, walking a bit further than the others, climbed onto a small ledge that offered a view of the camp-under-construction—the future fort where our vessels were slowly landing. "But I heard something else..."
"Hm?" Everyone looked toward the talkative veteran simultaneously, and I started placing bets in my mind as to what Billy was about to reveal. And how terribly our Security Service was organized.
"We haven't taken big contracts in a long time. We were sitting tight in the Outer Rim," Booker said, glancing meaningfully at the others and waving his hand sharply across the icy expanses, "and then suddenly we needed specific recruits and skills for fighting on an ice planet, get it? The guys at HQ are saying that soon we'll be flying somewhere in the Mid Rim, to a similar icy wasteland, so we're building a fort here and setting up a training center at the same time to recruit a new brigade from the Pantorans..."
"Oh! That would be simply wonderful!" Finally tearing his eyes away from the ships, the head of the Assembly expressed extreme interest. "I can guarantee that Pantora will gladly provide all its help and resources so that you can recruit volunteers in the shortest possible time."
"... Yeah," the soldiers exchanged glances and smirked awkwardly. The Pantoran's enthusiasm was a bit frightening, though it wasn't the first time we'd seen those who were sincerely imbued with the ideas of Holy Liberty and Democracy. "So get ready, boys. We'll likely spend at least a few months on this planet."
***
Planet Hort. Mid Rim.
In a meeting room near the spaceport, under one of the domed cities, an extremely lively and fierce conversation was currently taking place. Sheltered from the cold behind many walls, two local residents—Hormais—and one human were engaged in a non-stop argument.
For several months now, they had been returning to this conversation, but the result, as always, led nowhere. And so the negotiations could once again be postponed indefinitely, as both sides had been doing, but apparently not today.
"What does this mean?" Bristling, the Chieftain and spiritual leader of his people, Budlak Okulo, looked at his main political opponent and the human he had invited. "Unger Gout... a General without an army... why these grand speeches? Speak plainly, as you are used to!"
The aforementioned Gout bared a toothy grin in dissatisfaction. Despite his advanced age for a representative of their species, he was still in good shape, and any experienced warrior would feel it just by being near him.
"Your insults are unnecessary, Okulo," smirking, Unger folded his paws together, looking at his interlocutor from under his brow, "but I will repeat myself, in case old age has decided to take your hearing before mine. I demand that the abandoned Agrocite mines be reopened. Together with the Corporate Alliance and their resources, we can restart them and generate profit for everyone! Think about it! The Alliance will restore our abandoned pits and still pay us a share of the profit."
"No. That shall not be... For centuries our people have mined Agrocite and used it for our own benefit."
One thing was said aloud, but behind the mask of righteous fury, the Chieftain was thinking that the loss of the monopoly on such a rare and unusual crystal—capable of enhancing the power of turbolaser weapons—would spell disaster for the economy of their entire planet. Thousands, tens of thousands of Hormais could die because of this... They would have to return to the distant times when they had to scavenge for food in the icy wastelands, and every winter took slightly fewer cubs than were born...
No. Okulo did not want such a fate for his people, so he was ready to fight for the blood of Hort to the last.
Looking heavily from under furrowed brows, Budlak Okulo leaned his paws on the tabletop. A massive Hormai, a resident of the eponymous planet Hort, Budlak was a large specimen even among his massive kin.
Muscles bulging under his fur, tall and thick, the Hormai loomed over his interlocutors, instinctively trying to intimidate his opponent.
But he failed.
The representative of the Corporate Alliance smirked crookedly and, ignoring the threatening aura that had long been lingering in the meeting room, began demonstratively inspecting his fingernails. Curling his lips, Jasfer Lyke, Senior Manager for Colonization of High-Potential Systems, moved away from the Hormai, covering his nose with his hand.
"Your breath stinks; be so kind as to keep your distance..."
"Why you—" Budlak growled and was instantly under the intense gaze of his interlocutors, as if they were just waiting for him to make such a childish mistake in the political world. "Shak-du-lak, human... I am telling you officially, you are no longer welcome in our home."
"Right, very nice." Pushing off the table with his palms, the corporate man gave a small hop up and forward, forcing the massive alien to step back and snort in dissatisfaction. "Now, let's finish the negotiations.... Do I understand correctly that you are refusing our offer?"
"Yes," Budlak answered easily, almost growling. As the Chieftain and unofficial leader of the entire planet, he could speak and act without looking back, within the limits of his power. "Now—get out!"
"Of course, of course, just recording the answer on the holocam and—done. Thank you for your attention."
Without hiding a satisfied smile, the representative of the Corporate Alliance walked quickly out of the room. The man's contemptuous gaze didn't miss a single Hormai he encountered on the way to the hangar, but his face remained politely and falsely smiling until his feet stepped onto the ship's ramp.
"That was foolish... and short-sighted." Stepping away from one of the walls, the second Hormai present at the negotiations spoke up. Already aged, almost gray and flabby, he nevertheless continued to move smoothly with the grace of a warrior who had only taken a short break. "The Alliance will not forgive us for this; they are used to achieving their goals by any means..."
"You invited these jackals into our home to sell Agrocite—the blood of our world!" Pointing a finger at the much older representative of his species, Chieftain Budlak stepped dangerously close. "For this stunt alone, I should bury you alive in the ice... What were you thinking?!"
"And turn half our people against yourself?" Smirking crookedly, the old upright walrus bared long, curved tusks. "You are not the only one who rules our world, Okulo, and it is not for you to decide for everyone. You should have gathered the Assembly, discussed it with the others..."
In a quiet voice, with a smirk hidden behind thick whiskers, Unger Gout provoked his rival, and though the Chieftain was wise, his much younger and hotter blood took over.
"The Assembly might have believed your lying speeches. That would have been a mistake! One cannot work with the Corporate Alliance! Am I really the only one with enough sense to realize that, unlike you?!"
Another blow to the table marked the final and irrevocable decision on the matter, but Gout was not upset. This very evening, the hidden camera footage would be published, and tomorrow... tomorrow morning, the Hormais loyal to him would take the little fool's house by storm, followed by the houses of all the Assembly members who had rejected his offer.
****
"Attention!" I shout, walking quickly into the hangar. Proudly squaring my shoulders, holding my helmet in the crook of my elbow, I looked over the soldiers who had snapped to attention, currently portraying the best things a commander could wish for—stupidity and loyalty. "Listen up!"
The startled Helldivers jumped from their spots; it seemed impossible to stand any straighter, but these brave warriors proved otherwise.
Perhaps it was my slightly crazed look, or maybe it was because half an hour ago, a couple of techs heard me and my dear deputy arguing over the latest order.
And while the Shadow of House Scryvok thought we could just blow it off and go home since the client was likely dead and not responding, I... I thought quite differently, and I'll admit, it wasn't about the money or some shitty crystals. I'm not a Jedi to fuss over every precious stone.
"Our new client made a slight mistake regarding the contract start date, but that has never stopped the Helldivers. Right?!" Striking my chest with my fist, I listen to the collective "HUA!" that thundered through the ship like a roar. My fine boys and girls threatened to crack the walls with their iron throats, so much enthusiasm and strength was in them. Yes, my darlings were bored, and it was time to let them off the leash. "Even if the employer is dead, even if his house is ruined and there's no money left to pay us..."
I felt a sort of unhealthy exhilaration washing over me. Closing my eyes theatrically, I tried to squeeze out fake tears until the last moment, but only succeeded in making us stand in silence for a full minute.
Coughing and shaking off the remnants of awkwardness, I walk before the first ranks of truly loyal and glorious fighters for democracy.
"...But the Helldivers will take what is theirs! We will avenge our fallen employer. We will destroy the enemies of Holy Liberty and bring Managed Democracy to every corner of the planet," glancing at my wrist computer, I dig through the report for a few seconds to find the name and whisper what I see so as not to confuse my speech, "...let's see. Not that. That's a letter from the Shadow of House Scryvok. Ah, here. ...To every corner of the planet Hort, which will either accept Alliance laws or fall before the blessed face of Holy Liberty in our person..."
"HUA!"
"...Or pay us off," I said in a low whisper, half-turning to a smirking Arkam. Sula shared my opinion on this contract and was generally up for any action happening around my democratic self. "So, pack up and get ready for battle! Deployment in..."
Checking the PDA, I open the countdown, which already showed less than half an hour.
"In twenty-two minutes! Forward, Helldivers! Let these walruses tremble at the sight of the skies lit by the flame of liberty! To the pods!"
Setting the example, I jam my helmet onto my head and break into a light run. The Shock Troopers accompanying me were confused at first, but then began filling the area with insane battle cries, raising fists to the sky and shaking their weapons.
The sound of footsteps instantly filled the hangar... no, more like the actual thumping of thousands of sabatons—shaking the walls and driving the technical staff to fury and micro-strokes.
But the Helldivers' war machine was in motion because I was tired of waiting. Tired of sitting on the edge of the galaxy and hiding while senators and the "powerful" of this world settle very important issues among themselves.
In their shitty backrooms, sipping expensive wine off the bellies of elite whores, bossing around simple free people and taking away the only thing one can get from life.
I was tired of watching the HoloNet and grinding my teeth, seeing the galaxy forget about us and the triumph of democracy, but today! Today the whole Republic will remember us, remember and tremble.
Jumping into the pod, I hit the close button without turning around. To hell with heavy guns. To hell with reinforcement beacons.
Just me, my rifle, and a charge of democratic adrenaline—powering my body!
"LAUNCH!"
My hands barely managed to grab the handrails. My body began to tremble, and every muscle stiffened habitually. Shivers rolled down my back, threatening to reach my lower back and cause an "accident" right during deployment, but fortunately, I was no longer a snot-nosed little brat deploying for the first time.
I was the only real Helldiver in this whole goddamn galaxy!
A new wave of tremors passed through the pod. The craft flew into a small cloud of asteroids, and a couple of them left new scars on the hull, while a few even tried to punch deeper, but for now... for now, the armor held.
"Entering atmosphere."
AVINA's mechanical voice brought calm and coolness, like drinking a good milkshake after a whole day in some stinking desert like Tatooine.
The tips of my fingers began to tingle with pleasure. After all, I'd been sitting idle for too long, spending too much time at HQ dealing with paperwork... and that shit isn't for me.
As I told the Shadow of House Scryvok:
"I'm a soldier. A Helldiver. And my place is down there, with the others."
"10 seconds to deployment."
My hand grips the rifle. Rapid-fire mode. Maximum charge. Plenty of Tibanna in the spare. The steady beep in the pod's equipment runs the final reports, when suddenly...
"Sam, we are taking fire." With AVINA's final words, a laser cannon shell punches right through the pod, flying right before my eyes. From such power, this tin can tilted to the side and was now starting to slowly roll over. "We are off course. Predicted landing site—the center of the enemy's anti-space defense forces. I suggest using emergency ejection to—"
"Belay that," I exhaled contentedly and knocked on my forehead with my knuckles just in case, so as not to jinx my luck, stopping AVINA and cutting off her access to the pod. "This is even better... Just like the good old days."
***
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