That old bastard Miller was right again. Almost the moment they broke from the cover of the rock, the shrill alarm screamed once more. David"s mech AI coolly announced, "Incoming projectile. Trajectory analysis: Anti-mech cannon, 40mm, probable French origin." David yanked the control stick, pouring power frantically into his leg jump units. His Gladiator lurched backward and sideways in an awkward but effective dodge. A split second later, a white-hot metallic jet stream screamed past the space his armor had just occupied—utterly silent in the vacuum, but roaring like thunder in his mind. "Eyes open, Cole! They"re dug in!" Miller"s voice barked over the comm. His Wargod-1 was already firing. The magnetic railgun on its right arm thumped rhythmically, specialized armor-piercing rounds slam
