By David Drake
Colonel Alois Hammer has welded 5 thousand killers right into a weapon extra lethal than the other within the human universe. whilst a planetary govt faces threats from guerillas, insurgents or terrorists, the lads they lease are Hammer's Slammers, recognized during the galaxy for his or her chilly, ruthless ferocity, their skill to defeat overwhelming forces and their willingness to head up opposed to most unlikely odds. How do they do it? They definitely do not abide by way of the foundations of civilised struggle ...but then no one ever claimed that the Hammers have been great! even if their likelihood is one step clear of hopeless - those that oppose them don't have any probability at all...
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At least a dozen powerguns were raking the two lower floors. Though the stones spattered out pebbles and molten glass at every impact, the walls themselves held and continued to protect the Consies within them. The grenade was a black dot against the window lighted by bolts from the powerguns. It sailed through the opening, detonated with a dirty flash, and flung a guerrilla’s corpse momentarily into view. The oncoming buzzbomb filled Suilin’s forward vision. He saw it with impossible clarity, its bulbous head swelling on a thread of smoke that trailed back to the grenade-smashed room.
He grimaced and flipped up the faceshield of his helmet. “Because that was the kinda stuff they played in the bars on Esperanza, my first landfall with the regiment. Because it reminds me of when I was young and stupid, kid. ” He slid another of the strip charges from its insulated packing, then paused. ” “It’s our tank till they send a crew to pick it up,” the technician said over the whine of his brush. ” The warrant leader sighed and fitted the strip into place. It bound slightly, but that was from the way the skirt had been torqued, not the job Simkins was doing on the channel.
Called the voice in Wager’s intercom. “Sergeant? ” Wager was trying to catch his breath. “Negative, Holman,” he managed to say. “Just bring us level with Deathdealer again. “Holman,” he added a moment later. ” Their position in line was second from the left, but Dick Suilin glimpsed the remaining combat car on his side only at intersections—and that rarely. Its powerguns lit the parallel street in a constant reminder of its lethal presence. A burst quivering like a single blue flash showed Suilin a hump on what should have been the straight slope of a barracks roofline across the next intersection.