Grand Reversal: A Military Sci-Fi Series (Battle Ring Earth Book 3) by Jon Frater

Author:Jon Frater [Frater, Jon]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Aethon Books
Published: 2021-10-04T16:00:00+00:00

Without thinking, she activated the stunners and bought her arms up and outward, hoping to zap them both into unconsciousness, but the two Movi anticipated her, dodging out of her way, and dancing beyond her grip. She tried another hit and another, but even with the suit, she was just too slow.

Dance realized she was quickly running out of juice. Her suit’s reserves were already being drained just keeping her upright and balanced. She dodged a leg strike by Cleo, then another as the acrobatic Movi used her legs to force her back. Finally, she tired of the game and dove, her torso dropping her head nearly to the deck while her foot took a shot at Dance’s head. Dance pivoted and turned just in time for Sora to rush her. Laakshiden used both legs to propel her upward and forward, shoving her shoulder into Dance’s chest and knocking her off balance. Cleo scuttled just below her and landed on her back, using her legs to propel Dance more quickly into her trajectory, a proper judo move.

Dance felt her feet leave the ground and counted seconds as her reflexes took over. Twisting her body, she landed on her back, dropping her arms to stop her roll while barely keeping her head from slamming against the deck. But now her head was directly at an angle for Sellik.

Sellik let fly with a powerful kick to Dance’s head. And while she couldn’t move her body out of the Movi’s way, she could swing her head an inch to the right. Sellik mistimed the strike and found that she couldn’t correct quickly enough. Her kick missed Dance’s head proper, but the tip of her toe struck her chin while the ball of her foot landed squarely on Dance’s helmet collar. A monstrous clang accompanied a feeling like a baseball had struck her in the jaw and Dance turned her head with an impact. Bad news: a neck injury and a swollen jaw. The good news was that her neck wasn’t broken.

Dance rolled onto her hands and legs, took two more steps, and collapsed as her gear ran out of power for good.

“You see, my dear, the first thing every Movi soldier is taught in close-combat training is that every race has their own particular weakness. Cap a Rachnae behind its brain stem and it drops like a ten-legged sack of vegetables. You want to stop a Vix in its tracks, stun it with an EM pulse. A Sleer Defender has few vital spots that are easily accessible: their eyes, their ears. But their battle dress is another story. Get in close, tap their pressure points in just the right way…and you’re holding their suit’s power core.” Sora waggled the slim silver rod before Dance’s nose. She tried to raise her arm to grab it back, but without the core to manage the suit’s servomotors, she was wearing well over fifty kilos of dead weight.

“Eject eject eject,” Dance ordered, then sucked in a huge breath as the armor came apart around her.

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