Lawrence emerged from one shadowy depth into another. But at least he knew now he wasn't floating in space. He would've been a goner if he was.

  He didn't want to risk turning on his helmet's emergency lights, and he didn't need to. There was something of a fissure above him which exposed a sprinkle of stars, and more importantly, asteroids.

  Lawrence floated near the opening and kept himself steadied against it. He looked back and indeed the massive bipedal titan was cloaked by the void, but he couldn't get a sense of scale of the asteroid's interior. But no matter the size of his haven, it provided ample security up until now. But for how long?

  There was another bout of seismic activity and Lawrence held on tight as the celestial rock quaked violently. To say it was dangerous was an understatement, but he doesn't exactly want to stay put and find out what would happen if any impacts got too close for comfort.

  Lawrence pulled himself up slowly, and ensured he was anchored through a hook device on his waist. He stood up to peer out. He was still in the asteroid stream alright, a rather static one. Every direction was not only celestial chunks but an unusually high density of Tacoma remains—no Shrinas in sight. It ruled out the possibility that he drifted off-course or that this was a battlefield from the earlier assault to take out the Sounion. Even larger tintanimium wreckage of what he believed was a Star Dreadnought drifted by. Lawrence whistled and wondered if he had gotten closer to Victoria's carnage after all.

  He glanced around for any landmarks on this side, any signs of battles nearby, but none close enough to pinpoint where Victoria could be, only the rumblings of the garrison fleet further in the celestial cluster. He turned to his left and quickly covered his visior briefly when Faskanykle's sun caught him blindsided.

  He squinted, trying to avoid looking at it directly. It dipped halfway into Faskanykle's rim—and he made out the silhouettes of the Farraigaig colony laser with its huge legion of solar panels. Zeta, the fearsome walnut fortress, continued its inevitable collision.

  As Lawrence squinted harder while at the same time trying to avoid burning his retinas, he had without doubt knew the fleet succeded in neutralizing the atomic engines. All that needed to be done now was split the asteroid—or take it out with the laser altogether.

  Would this be the people of Fasnakyle's last sunset? That answer and all its firepower lie in the Farraigag colony laser now and all responsbility on the man who has to press the button to fire the thing. Lawrence doesn't envy the man with one simple fact on his mind: if fail, will die.

  "Why haven't they fired it yet?" Lawrence cried. "What the devils is the fleet doing?!" No one could answer of course, except for movement among the static celestial cluster. He hit the deck, ignoring he was tethered.

  He raised his torso and saw a Tacoma MAV spread out, they sprang between asteroids but none headed for his. On occasion they stopped and dropped cluster grenades in—towers of smoke spewed from caves as they moved on. Maybe a little too quick, Lawrence thought, I would've stayed to check the aftermath.

  When he was sure the coast was clear, he crouched to unhook but paused. Does he head back into the K?mpfer or further scout his position? The question weighed on his mind as he glanced behind him to see if there were other Tacoma present. Indeed, another MAV covered his vicinity. This duo didn't seem to have any rhythm to where they stopped, and it certainly didn't seem like they had the manpower now to afford a sweep like this.

  He crawled until he was sure he was out of view of the Tacoma headed his way. Just under his southern axis, Lawrence spotted a Dreadnought as it marched slowly, taking pot shots at the occasional roaming debris that posed a risk. It missed one shot—and had its Rutherford Field generators knocked out.

  "Maniacs," Lawrence muttered, but it didn't bother him. In all likelihood, allied Monitors were doing just the same.

  Lawrence couldn't decide if it was overcommitment or underestimating the two of them if Jonathon was willing to divert a full MAV strike team plus a battleship away from an otherwise more pivotal battle. Lawrence glanced at the pitched battle with its sheer volume of atomic flashes of light and intense laze barrages further in the belt. If troops volunteered for this mission were briefed they were to take down not one, but two known elite K?mpfer pilots, they certainly had no fear in their hearts.

  Lawrence crawled for the opposite axis and decided to make a jump into a nearby nomadic bundle of debris. If the Tacoma were coming this way anyway, he needed to divert their attention away from his haven. If they threw a bomb in there with the K?mpfer, it was over for him. And getting back into action would be dangerous if they caught sudden wind of his tominosky particle signature. He wasn't too confident in his ability to extract the asteroid and counter what could be against a platoon of MAV fast enough. Not head-on at least.

  Lawrence noted the shape and size of his haven and likened it to standing out from the crowd as being large and pearish shaped. It would no doubt attract the eyes of the approaching Tacoma one way or another; if he was unlucky, a rookie gunner on the Dreadnought might be teased and taken a bet if he could hit it.

  Lawrence searched for anything that could help with his plan to divert attention away. Or I chance it now, he said inwardly. He held the panel close to his chest as the Tacoma leap-frogged onto another asteroid.

  He took a gamble, a bigger gamble than even his blackjack game with Benny. He held up the shield and kicked himself off. He curled up into a fetal position so the panel could hide his profile better. Deep, long breaths clouded his visor as he sailed further away from his pear base, heart pounded in his vest as he and the debris convoy drifted past the unsuspecting Tacoma. Its pilot didn't notice him.

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  The Tacoma made landfall on the asteroid and scanned around it for any foxholes. Lawrence lost sight of it briefly until it reappeared partway on the other side. The Imperium pilot reached for a panzerfaust, readied it and took the shot; a puff of cloud and debris obscured him only briefly. Then the Tacoma took a few steps back, turned and readied itself for the next asteroid—Lawrence's. His backpack verniers glowed blue, then red as it took off, carefully and with precision.

  Lawrence searched frantically in the debris for anything he could use to his advantage. A crash—another pocket of Tacoma debris collided with his.

  Lawrence quickly regained orientation and spotted a still-functioning laz rifle among the clutter, attached to a dismembered Tacoma. He's never seen an Imperium laz model this close before, and found himself awed by its elaborate, long barrel and sleek, totalitarian body design.

  But what was more important was it was There was no way he could actually commandeer what remained of the Tacoma . . . or could he? Like the laz rifle, it was in one piece from the torso up, arm and all. But was its reactor functioning?

  "No way in, anyway," Lawrence muttered, "no time."

  Lawrence hopped off a pair of Tacoma legs; the panel tucked under his right arm. He landed on the laz gun barrel and tried to position himself underneath it to align it with the Tacoma, but it proved too difficult. He made his back for the grip and met more success in an attempt to aim better, but cursed his lack of having a waist jet pack to make this process easier.

  As he did so, the Tacoma touched down on his pear-shaped celestial rock.

  Feeling confident he eyeballed its projectory, Lawrence carefully guided himself around the grip for the trigger. He wrung out the grapple line from his waist and as quickly as he could, wrapped it around the trigger and the grip. Thankfully, the Tacoma's trigger finger wasn't an obstacle. Feeling he wrapped it around enough, he stopped, and loosened the line slighty as he went back behind the grip to ensure it was properly trained on the Tacoma. The Tacoma stopped, and Lawrence realized he lacked another panzerfaust.

  The Tacoma motioned to its ally nearby. The second Tacoma cleared out the rock he was on and regrouped with the first Tacoma on Lawrence's pear asteroid. Lawrence ensured his firing as the debris he was on moved at a very slow velocity.

  Finally, he felt it was fine-tuned enough. With careful speed, he moved his way back for the grip. He held the cables in his hands firmly like reins. And maybe in this case they were, is this crazy enough to work? Can he pull it off?

  The Tacoma reached for his backpack and procured what appeared to be cluster mines. He extended them for the other to grab.

  Lawrence's heart rate increased dramatically. Sweat threatened his vision but there was nothing he could do to wipe them away now. He couldn't afford to think what would happen if this failed.

  It was now or never. A large stray asteroid threatened to cut line of sight and his chance of coming out of this alive.

  A sudden red glow above him. A long green thread line appeared as quickly as it disappeared through the Dreadnought. Tertiary explosions ripped it apart. "Now!" He shouted. He yanked on the cord with all his herculean might.

  The crescent purple laz round zipped through and struck the grenades. The two Tacoma were swallowed up by the orb blast. And although there was no recoil from lack of kinetic energy, Lawrence yanked on it again for good measure. Then again. He still needed to get the other Tacoma to notice and get distracted, as added insurance atop the Dreadnought's demise.

  Lawrence quickly went to work to unravel the cord from the grip. For added good measure, he readied himself and charged into it for good measure to fire off another round.

  A few counterbattery rounds flashed around him. Even under fire, he was able to free the thread from the trigger; he hadn't used much of it. Under blindfire, he darted away from the rubble with panel as cover. Moments later, his makeshift camouflaged battery was struck.

  The shockwave accelerated his flight for the pear asteroid. He braced for impact, and grunted. Blood spewed as he crashed against it. He saw whiteness for a few moments and saw in time the two Tacoma as they attempted to flank around where he was prior.

  Lawrence slowly climbed it. Just as he reached the opening, he looked back and hurled the panel off to the right of the left Tacoma. Then dropped in.

  The K?mpfer was exactly as he left it. He made his way for the cockpit and strapped in. He turned the key—and the mobile trooper revived without delay, all systems online.

  "Time again, K?mpfer, old buddy," Lawrence said. The panomera cameras flicked on. No time for proper diagnostics; Lawrence only checked to make sure he still had his arsenal: a shield, naginata, Kaz's shotgun, and a laz rifle. Everything was in due order.

  The K?mpfer rose out of its haven. The Tacoma MAV hadn't picked up his Tominosky signature yet and were still near his sentry nest, the left one distracted by the discarded panel. Lawrence brandished his shotgun at the right Tacoma, and without using the overhead targeting system or waiting for the system to analyze the shot: he pulled the trigger. The depleted uranimum slugs struck the Tacoma square in the chest, and it went off festively.

  The shotgun swerved aggressively to the right. The Tacoma tried to dash back; it got off one round but Lawrence held up his pavise and absorbed it. Another trigger pull: only a headshot.

  Lawrence dashed forward, a minor tremor as he landed to the left side on a asteroid. The Tacom fired off panic shots, but none came close to Lawrence. It was over for him before it even began. "You should've never volunteered for this mission," Lawrence said.

  Lawrence launched himself just as the decapitated Tacoma aimed but took shots at a different angle. The K?mpfer rammed its pavise against the Tacoma and sent him flyingl Lawrence reversed just as he done so. Lawrence looked through the pavise's top center visor and discharged another shotgun blast; the shot tore off the right leg at the hip. This time the Tacoma pilot clearly hist his composure and thrashed the limbs that remained.

  Lawrence didn't waste time, he raised the aiming joystick carefully, then squeezed the trigger. It ripped apart the torso; the pilot was completely history.

  Lawrence drew several quick breaths. With the hatch now long closed, Lawrence remembered to open the visor and wipe off the accumulated swath of sweat. The liquid frolicked through space and splashed against a part of his cockpit.

  Was it over? Lawrence thought. There shouldn't be any more. Eyes darted from one end to the other of his peripheral field of vision. With a few tapso of his left arm rest, he brought up rear-views of his K?mpfer. Was that the last of the strike team? Lawrence's mind raced as fast as he looked between the cameras.

  Then he noticed a blur on the top center of his screen. He hid behind the pavise with the shotgun at the ready. Three Tacoma landed on separate asteroids ahead of him. The center one shone brightly against Fasnakyle's star. In his rear mirror, he saw the last of it dip into the planet's rim.

  It was more armored, but its burgundy armor was magnified by the twilight sun. The two mobile troopers seemed not so Tacoma, and they had ivory green paint instead of the usual gray. They appeared to have additional armor plating and plasma great axes.

  Lawrence leaned forward in his seat. Focused. Eyes squinted.

  It was the Red Blitz.