Chapter 242: The Farm is Burning
The farmland along the 109th's road sector was running at scale now — ten thousand people, roughly a hundred acres per person, gene-optimised seed varieties with fertiliser support averaging five hundred kilograms per acre.
The first harvest came in at over two and a half million kilograms. Split fifty-fifty, the regiment's share went to the soldiers' families. Most households went from subsistence to comfortable reserves in a single distribution.
Kian looked at those numbers and decided they were insufficient.
The ship captain's contract required four hundred million guana-beasts. Feeding that many animals required vastly more agricultural output than he currently had. He needed more land, more workers, and the beginning of a livestock operation.
He called the farm leaders together.
"Expand. Move into whatever unclaimed land you can reach. I'll send people forward to recruit more workers — labour won't be the bottleneck.
Also: start a guana-beast operation. Small scale for now, build the experience. I'll want volume eventually."
The farm leaders acknowledged. They were flourishing under the current arrangement and had every reason to cooperate.
More displaced civilians flowed into the protected zone. Fields extended outward from the road in all directions, the green crops visible for dozens of kilometres.
The problem with expansion was that it diluted the defensive coverage. More land, more people, spread over more area — and fewer soldiers per hectare to deter the kind of attention that success invited.
Kian was in the middle of a strength training session — force and endurance both climbing toward twenty-five — when Egghead ran in.
"Sir — our farm has been hit! PDF raiders!"
Kian dropped the five-hundred-kilogram barbell on the floor, came upright, and drew the Power Sword.
"When?!"
"Fifteen kilometres west, our outer farm. A company-strength element. When our patrol vehicle arrived, they were already destroying the crops."
"Get everyone moving."
Several minutes later, a column of cargo haulers and Chimeras was pushing hard toward the outer settlement. Smoke was visible from a long way out — thick, black columns rising from the burning buildings.
Kian looked at the fire and said, to no one in particular: "Who invented burning things down? It's like a combo attack — you can kill people without the fire, so why do you always add the fire?"
Egghead said: "Standard PDF field doctrine, sir. After clearing a hostile position, destroy enemy facilities to maximise strategic impact."
"So they've classified us as the enemy."
He picked up a PDF autogun, leaned out of the vehicle, and shot a raider who was occupied with something he shouldn't have been doing. The man's head came apart.
The raiding company froze. Then scattered for cover.
Kian raised the vox.
"Chimeras — high-explosive, fire."
The autocannons opened up. The raiders, caught in the open without armoured support, took severe casualties immediately. The Chimeras suppressed while Kian's household soldiers dismounted, encircled the position, and worked in with grenades.
These weren't the raw Underhive recruits from months ago. Multiple combat deployments, serious training incentives, and Kian's payment record had produced something that looked like a real fighting unit.
The grenades were accurate and devastating.
What remained of the company surrendered.
"Stop! We surrender! We surrender!"
Weapons dropped, hands up. Kian counted survivors — under fifty from what had been a hundred-plus.
Ash walked over, pulled a shoulder patch off one of the prisoners, and held it up.
"81st Regiment, sir. Probably deliberate."
Kian surveyed the prisoners. Surveyed the burning farm. Surveyed the several hundred dead farmers.
He drew a breath.
"What 81st Regiment?"
He said it loudly, for everyone present.
"These are rebels in stolen uniforms."
Ash understood immediately. He shot one of the prisoners.
Kian's soldiers followed. The 81st soldiers went down in sections.
One officer, still standing, shouted: "You can't do this — we're PDF — the military directorate will hear about this—"
"Will they? They haven't found us in months. And look again at your men."
The officer turned. Egghead's people were already working — stripping the 81st insignia from the dead, dressing the bodies in civilian rebel clothing, placing locally-manufactured weapons beside them.
The officer understood what he was looking at.
Kian put the pistol against the officer's forehead and fired.
Egghead came to him afterward, quietly.
"Sir — the bodies are dealt with. But we have about thirty surviving farmers. All women. All assaulted. What do you want to do?"
Kian looked at them. They were frightened and had every right to be.
He had promised these people protection. That promise was now demonstrably incomplete.
He scratched the back of his head with the pistol barrel. Thought for a moment.
"Get the farm leaders. All of them. We're having a meeting."
[End of Chapter 242]
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