Parson's bio-horse galloped like the wind. Li Qingyu, sitting behind the rider, felt as if his insides were about to turn into an omelet.
Forty kilometers flew by unnoticed. By the time Li Qingyu, staggering, jumped off its rump, they had already reached the center of the rebel camp.
In the time he was away, the settlement had grown significantly and now resembled a bustling suburb.
"Quick. Take me to Old Man Sen, I need to talk to him!"
Parson nodded silently and moved forward. But Li Qingyu's appearance – sniper rifle on his back, autogun at the ready, full combat gear – made the locals tense. Four guards with assault rifles immediately followed him, in case the guest decided to do anything rash.
Under a watchful escort, Li entered Sen's house.
Old Man Sen was about to start with greetings, but Li Qingyu cut him off:
"Enough talk. I've come to warn you – PDF will begin their attack tomorrow morning."
Sen flinched and demanded an explanation. Li briefly recounted the story of Lieutenant Winchester.
Disbelief and anxiety reflected on the old man's face.
"I-it's impossible... We've been living peacefully with PDF for so long. Have they really decided to break the unspoken agreement?"
A fragile balance had long been established on the planet: PDF couldn't drive out the rebels, and the rebels couldn't break through PDF's defenses.
Between them lay a twenty-kilometer "gray zone" – a de facto exclusion zone. Both sides avoided crossing, preferring to live in peace.
The rebels didn't provoke, and PDF didn't conduct raids into their rear.
Everyone was content with this uneasy peace: occasional firefights for the reports and no large-scale war.
And now Li was claiming that PDF intended to destroy everything and strike Sen's base. It was hard to believe.
Li Qingyu snorted:
"Winchester is a nobleman. He needs medals and positions to climb the ranks. So he decided to wipe out your camp and add to his resume. And you just happened to be the closest."
Sen frowned:
"Why us specifically?"
"He simply drew a line on the map. Guess where it ended up?"
Li had seen the map at Rudolsson's. Winchester's line pointed directly at Sen's settlement.
The old man turned pale before Li's eyes, as if his face had changed all the colors of the traffic light. A painful argument raged in his mind.
Li couldn't resist:
"Well? Are you going to run or fight?"
Sen thoughtfully examined his guest: rifle, armor, confidence in his voice – and asked:
"And why are you warning us? For the sake of the grain trade?"
Li nodded, then smirked:
"Partly. We have established supplies, and I have no reason to lose a stable channel. I'm too lazy to find new connections."
"But PDF equipment is expensive. If you decide to hold your ground, I'll help."
He patted his rifle.
"There's only one condition: everything I get from the battlefield is mine. No sharing, no common fund."
Sen stared intently, trying to figure out if there was a catch.
"And what if I decide to leave?"
"Then I'll set up an ambush myself. I'll take at least one – that's ten thousand credits from a corpse on the Underhive black market."
"And if I'm lucky enough to get to an elite, it'll be a real feast. One lasgun alone is worth something, and a full set will fetch thirty thousand."
"Just a warning: if you decide to run, warn your neighbors. Otherwise, Winchester will come, find no one – and move on to the next camp."
"He doesn't care who he kills. The main thing is to show results."
Sen hesitated for a long time, and then decided to convene a council of commanders from neighboring cells.
Soon, seven or eight local field leaders with their men arrived at the camp. They locked themselves in the house and began their meeting.
Li was not allowed inside; he was left to wait outside.
He wasn't bored: he took out an oiled rag and began to polish his rifle with sacred oil, appeasing the Spirit of the Weapon.
Half an hour later, they were called into the house. The atmosphere inside was grim.
The news was heavy: there was already a home, built structures, plowed fields. Retreat meant that PDF would burn everything to the ground. All their lives – to dust.
Li asked:
"Well, gentlemen revolutionaries? Are we fighting or running?"
He was ready for both outcomes.
A fight was preferable – in the chaos, one could gather a rich harvest of trophies.
If they ran, he would have to work alone, from the shadows.
The main thing was that Winchester would fail and choke on his own blood – then he could forget about a promotion.
The commanders remained silent until one jumped up, slammed his hand on the table, and shouted, pointing his finger at Li:
"Tell us, why did you bring this news?! Are you an PDF spy?! Do you want to lure us into a trap?!"
Li Qingyu froze for a moment, and then exploded with rage.
He grabbed the edge of the table, growled, and with one pull, overturned the furniture. No one expected this.
Several leaders didn't have time to jump back – the tabletop knocked them down. Groans and curses were heard.
Li pointed at the screamer and roared:
"You bastard! Are you tired of living?! How dare you talk to your daddy like that?! I'll beat everything out of you!!"
The leader didn't flinch, squeaked:
"Mutiny! Guards, take him!"
Two guards lunged simultaneously.
Li met the first with a direct kick to the stomach. He flew into the wall, breaking the planks, and slumped down, gasping for air.
He met the second with a fist to the face – the crack of a broken nose drowned out the cries of pain.
In a couple of seconds, the guards were knocked out, and the room turned into chaos.
Li lunged at the leader and slapped him. He squeaked, fell, spitting out teeth.
Li fell on top of him and began methodically beating him in the face, turning it into a bloody mess.
"You dog, don't you understand words?! Now daddy will teach you manners!"
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"A-a-a-a-a-a!!"