Seiver hit the ground hard. Thankfully it was kneepads first, though it still felt as though his bones were coming apart. He immediately muscles to his feet with a mental note to watch what he was doing.
He wasn’t getting shot.
Amongst the maelstrom of returning fire, Seiver focused on his job. The reason he was paid the big bucks.
He crouched in the center of the room and began assembling the Anum Porta. His hands were steady as he slid the frame parts together. He’d practiced until he could almost match the base record.
Sweat was gathering around his neck. He could feel his bandanna getting soggy.
He willed the sweat not to form on his forehead. But he was only human. Heavy droplets gathered across his forehead and trickled like tears down to his jawline.
In his peripheral he recognized that his protection squad had dwindled from 6 to 4. It was the kind of realization that usually came to him when he was on downtime. The fact that his platoon-mates were dying for him.
He shook off the flicker of shock. He didn’t have time right now.
Part A into Part B, he thought. The portal was nearly complete. Then he could grab up his gun and guard it.
Something slammed into his back and he shouldered it aside without pausing in his work. It was the body of Private Hoskins. Seiver’s brain helpfully identified the nametag as the face was gone. A sound escaped his throat before he swallowed it back.
Not now.
Now as for bolting the last pieces in place and snapping the ring into the stand.
There was a sound like angel’s singing. A rush of melodic harmony as the circuit was completed and the miniature-Gate connected with the Intergalactic Ansible Network.
The Gate glowed red briefly and Seiver quickly got behind it.
A ringing tone was held a second longer than any other, then there was a loud GONG! Sound. And the Gate snapped open. A flare of blinding light swiftly obscured by Gatepods.
The capsules struck like bullets, smashing through walls and bodies. When they stopped, the lids burst open to release the marines inside.
