Free Star Force: Marauders (SF63) by Aer-ki Jyr

quadrupeds, they knew how to make adequate armor for Humans and other
bipeds. “And I don’t want any of them getting away, so be ready to run down
multiple targets. Jackson, get the Valerie prepped. Their fighter is in the air
to intimidate the shippers to pay the price.”
    “You want that captured or scrapped?” the ex-Star Force
Regular pilot asked.
    “Preferably captured, so we can sell what’s left of
it.”
    “I’ll try and be gentle,” he said, pulling on a
different set of armor than he would have worn had he been going in with the
infantry.
    Mason clicked the various pieces of armor onto his
body, locking them in place then testing to make sure all the joints were
secured. He pulled the helmet on last, finding the fit reassuring, for he’d
spent hundreds of combat hours in this suit, and hadn’t yet had to replace the
headgear.
    The others dressed in similar armor, all of which was
painted dark blue with red stripes going down the outside of the arms and legs.
Their weapons had also been painted the same color of red, with the plasma
rifles being custom fitted with an extra component slung under the barrel. A
typical modification, but whereas most individuals would have added a rocket
launcher, flame thrower, or some other type of area of effect weapon, the
Marauders had purchased a stun mod that gave them the ability to take down
targets without killing them, though it was nowhere near as effective as the
stun weapons Star Force used, nor could it pass through armor.
    That meant most enemies they faced had to shot to be
disabled, with the stun mostly being useful against unarmored opponents.
Reports were that the militants wore a hodgepodge of armor, so it was likely
that they were going to have to be taken down the hard way or forced to
surrender…though without a translator handy during a firefight there wasn’t
going to be much opportunity to offer one, unless they bad guys just threw
their weapons down and their hands up.
    Once he was fully equipped he and the others moved to
the internal hangar and three auxiliary exits, one of which was on the top of
the craft. They waited inside until the freighter had set down, then listened
to the communal comm channel for Mason to give the
word.
    “I need a target count,” he said, looking at the vid
screen next to the closed hatch that showed what was outside before you opened
the opaque door. “I mark two to port.”
    “Got another aft.”
    “Three starboard fore.”
    Mason waited a moment, then the pilot finally added,
“Someone’s coming up to the ship, heading to the main bay doors.”
    “Lower them, but stay out of sight inside. I need a
team topside.”
    “On it,” Ray’so’mal said.
    “Le’han’trel, take the bay team. I’m flanking.”
    “Copy.”

 
    Two mercs wearing full armor
minus the helmets, escorted a third individual that wore casual clothes plus a
hip-holstered pistol over to the ship’s lowering ramp as the apparent leader
began speaking rapidly in Klixet , making demands for
the crew to come out and them being given access to inspect the cargo, citing
something about a maintenance fee when a flash of blue armor ran out from the
left side and barreled down the ramp.
    Le’han’trel rammed the merc on the left in an unarmed tackle before he could bring
his weapon up, in typical Protovic fashion, then as the other two turned and
backed away from the pair and tried to draw their weapons a slightly delayed
pair of blurs followed him out and took them down, but not before the unarmored Selofan got a shot off into one of the Marauders.
    The chest shield held up, barely, until physical
contact was made and that ripped through what was left of the cheap energy
barrier and the militant was knocked to the ground. The Marauder rolled off
him, grabbing his pistol as he did so, then another Marauder followed him up
and shot the leader with a stun blast of hazy green energy that left him groggy
but still conscious. A second shot