


chapter2title::before{content:'Chapter 2: Priority Target';}
chapter2line1::before{content:'Villar kept one eye on the softskin as it "fell" - clearly an attempt to feign death - whilst tracking the pulsar fire coming from the south. Distance and focus was affected somewhat with only three eyes on the action, but she was determined to not let any scum survive their attempted incursion. The trade-off was worth it.';}
chapter2line2::before{content:'Her flier reached the outcropping of trees that were home to the remainder of a small battalion of warriors trying their hardest for a fighting retreat. Part of her admired their ability to not turn and run, to honourably await their certain death through sacrifice in order to give others of their species a chance. Especially the small undeveloped ones - when they were around, the grown humans would all but throw themselves at her to give them a chance at survival. Often, it was in vain. The culture of this race was something that would be studied for many cycles. They were hardy for such a soft species; no exoskeleton, heavy reliance on the regular intake of fluid, consumption of meat of all things - for sustenance no less - though this was becoming rare, it was apparently something that was common in the species history. What in the void did they eat now? Dirt?';}
chapter2line3::before{content:"As the flier pinged back location data of movement, Villar swung her railgun about to align with her interfaces' prediction of the path that would take the rod from her railgun to the exact source of that movement, and fired. The railgun whined and threw out a small but very solid cylinder which travelled a good distance before tearing through wood and, hopefully, flesh. She was dimly aware of spots on the wall she stood on glowing and beginning to smoke, trails of burnt paint growing and heading in her direction as whatever brave (insane) human tried to aim its energy weapon at her. It wouldn't work of course, she couldn't get touched by the invisible beam, not one of this output anyway. Her exoskeleton could brush this off without even noticing. If they had a handheld weapon worth a damn it still wouldn't matter much. The humans can barely aim with their measely two eyes of liquid, especially at this distance. Why they even bothered trying, she did not know.";}
chapter2line4::before{content:"Without warning, her railgun bleeped an alert and launched out of her hand, throwing itself forward. The suddenness of it stole her entire focus, causing her to look at the rapidly moving railgun with all her eyes. In the split second it took to lock on to it, she noticed the melting hole just below the barrel as it span away from her, propelled under it's own power for her own safety. It promptly exploded in the purple haze common to ZP power bank failures, sending a ripple across a wide swath of dirt and bodies, knocking her back and through a wall. Those sacks of meat weren't aiming at her and her protective exoskeleton, they were aiming at her gun, the relatively poorly protected changeable battery pack that powered it. She'd remember that. In the moment, she had taken her eye off the supposed corpse of the runner as well as the movement in the woodland. With frustration, as she climbed out of the rubble of the wall to stand and survey the battlefield, she keyed in an orbital bombardment request and watched as thick beams of yellow flashed through and dissolved the cloud cover and completely obliterated the copse of woodland holding the only surviving humans. The same weapon would cut clean through a human destroyer that was far enough away she couldn't even see it in the black void of space. Nothing would be left here but a wide and very deep pit of molten stone.";}
chapter2line5::before{content:"She clicked her mandibles, picked up her blade, and set off in the general direction of the human runner that feigned death earlier. No survivors were permitted. This last one? She would enjoy this.";}

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