Gonsmerry shouted in exultation, swinging his aim for another assault craft. But with a cry of pain, one of his legs buckled, the force of the autocannon putting too much strain on the light bracings of the exoskeleton around his legs. He dropped to one knee, still firing the autocannon. The assault craft melted just as quickly as the first had. And he didn’t stop firing.
By then one of the remaining two assault craft was angling straight for us, even as Gonsmerry adjusted his aim for the one beyond us as it started a strafing run on a pair of his people.
I dropped to one knee and hefted my own weapon. It wasn’t nearly as large as Gonsmerry’s Tregg autocannon, but he wasn’t the only one with synth limbs letting him carry more than the typical soldier. I angled the Garr Trace rotary auto-
