The wail of the klaxon cut off suddenly, the lack of noise strange.
“Here they come.” A human voice cried.
Domik threw a look at the other three Taurean warriors and, as one, they strode from the tent.
The look that Oren shot toward the medical tent wasn’t lost on Domik.
My brother, we are both caught in the web of a human.
“Heavy weapons?” he asked, grabbing Oren’s arm. His brother dragged his eyes away from the medical tent and gave himself a shake.
“This way,” he said, turning and striding purposefully away.
The four warriors strode toward the edge of the tents where a Taurean stealth ship sat.
“Hello, baby,” T’arq crooned as he walked toward the vessel. A hatch on the top popped open and a curly brown head popped out.
“Hey, Domik!” Krystal called down. “Glad to see you’re not dead!”
Domik lifted a hand in greeting, as T’arq jogged toward the ship and pulled himself up and into the cockpit with effortless movements.
Zac pointed toward the edge of the airfield where a circular structure made of concrete could be seen. “Your gun is waiting for you.” He clapped Domik on the back and strode away.
Oren joined Domik as they jogged toward the concrete structure. It didn’t have a roof and, as they approached, he realized why.
There was a small opening in the wall, though which they squeezed, before dropping about two meters to get to the bottom of a pit. The pit itself was about ten meters across, the walls thick concrete that rose another three meters above the ground. The walls were reinforced with concrete and in the center was something that made Domik smile.
“Oh, I hate it when you do that,” Oren grumbled.
“What?”
“Smile like that. It’s creepy.”
Domik laughed and turned to run his hands over the giant gun that filled most of the pit. It was anchored in the middle on a circular disk, designed to spin a full 360 degrees. The gun’s turret was currently pointing slightly up, and the height and angle of the walls meant it had been hidden as they approached.
The structure was of Domik’s own design, one he had developed as part of a special project for the Taurean military.
Most knew of him as a weapons specialist, but he was reallyTheWeapons Specialist for the Taurean military. He just liked to conduct his testing in the field.
Domik pulled himself up a short ladder to sit on the small seat behind the controls. He waved at Oren to join him, his brother taking the jump seat slightly to one side and behind Oren.
This gun was operated by two warriors: one as a spotter, and the other as the main controller.
Oren was familiar with this weapon, having helped Domik develop it in his early years at the Taurean military academy.
“Let’s get those insect bastards,” Oren snarled, grabbing the helmet from the hook and pulling it on.
Domik did the same, pressing the button for the heads-up display that came across one eye, similar to that which T’arq would have as the pilot of the stealth ship.
He hit the sequence of buttons to fire up the gun and tested it with a few short spins on the disc, and elevating it so they could fire over the top of the concrete wall. The view from up here gave him a sight across the desert plain where the base was situated. The midday sun beat down, hot and bright, and the comm channel connected to their helmets lit up with alerts of incoming Xakul fighters.
“Oren?” Domik shouted over the noise of the gun and the comm channel chatter.
“Coming in at a bearing of 015,” came the reply.
Domik swung the gun around to face almost due north, knowing better than to rely solely on his eyesight to spot the fighters, but still straining to see, anyway.
Please be safe.
