Chapter 96: Legends Hold Ground

The ground shuddered as heavy Vorn retrieval drones dropped from the sky, slamming into the perimeter of the harbor barricade.

Cole stood atop an overturned shipping container, his heavy kinetic shotgun braced against his good shoulder.

"Hold the line, you dock rats," Cole bellowed, firing a concussive blast into the chest plate of a charging drone.

"The fancy heroes have the sky, but this mud belongs to District 9."

"Cole, we have three more coming over the crane tracks," young Weaver shouted, swinging from a heavy cable.

"Then drop a steel hook through their necks, kid," Cole roared back, pumping another shell into the chamber.

Weaver twisted in midair, wrapping high-tensile steel cables around a drone’s legs and hauling it crashing into the asphalt.

"Bring the torches," an older docker yelled, rushing forward with an industrial cutting rig to melt through the alien armor.

High above, Sunlark intercepted a falling missile, her radiant golden form visible across seven city blocks.

"Look at that golden light," a wounded crane operator gasped, leaning against the sandbags.

"Never mind the sky, watch your flank," Cole shouted, firing a blast that blew a drone’s arm clean off its chassis.

When Cole stumbled, took a jagged piece of shrapnel to his thigh, and hauled himself right back onto his feet, the dockers cheered with thunderous fury.

"That is our boss," someone shouted from the trench, leveling an industrial rivet gun at the breach.

A squad of Association hardliners in grey composite armor shoved through the medical line, brandishing detention collars.

"Leo Marsh is broadcasting an unauthorized alien resonance signal," the hardliner captain announced through his loudspeaker.

"By emergency decree of the Board, he is placed under immediate custodial arrest for compromising municipal security."

"Put those weapons down before I break your arms," Bekka commanded, stepping off the clinic loading dock with her aero-gauntlets spinning.

"Officer Hayes, this is a direct order from the Directorate," the captain insisted, raising his sidearm.

"I am the ranking precinct officer on scene, Captain, and your emergency decree is unconstitutional," Bekka answered, stepping right into his face.

She slammed her badge scanner against his chest plate, flashing a blinding red override signal across his squad’s visors.

"Your field authority in District 9 is revoked under my twelve-minute crisis warrant."

"Take up rifles and help defend this perimeter, or face immediate charges for treason against civilian life."

"You cannot revoke our charter, Officer," the captain stammered, looking at the compressed wind humming around her knuckles.

"Try me, Captain, and see if your body armor stops a Mach two shockwave," Bekka replied without blinking.

"Squad, form a firing line on the east trench," the captain ordered, turning pale as he backed away.

Down near the water gate, an auxiliary crane began buckling under the weight of an incoming drone carrier.

"The crane is falling onto the triage tents," a nurse screamed from the ditch.

A battered grey combat rig stepped into the breach, its mismatched hydraulic plates whining as it caught the falling steel arm.

"Hold together, you piece of junk," Gild growled inside the cockpit, his breath ragged as metal groaned against metal.

He braced for the familiar jeers from the neighborhood he had once exploited, his knuckles white on the control sticks.

’They hate me, and they have every right to let me get crushed under this girder.’

Instead, a burly dock supervisor tossed a heavy steel anchor chain toward his rig’s forward winch.

"Lock that winch to the mooring cleat, Gild, and do not let that crane drop into the triage trench."

"You are helping me?" Gild asked through his external speaker, his voice cracking with shock.

"We can settle our old debts tomorrow, Gild, but right now we hold this dock together," the supervisor shouted.

Gild blinked through his targeting visor, threw the lock lever, and held the collapsing structure with everything his rig had left.

"Winch locked," Gild yelled back, tears cutting through the grease on his face as he added, "It is not going anywhere."

Near the harbor entrance, Luna stepped onto the open pavement, planting the base of the Lotus Spine into the cracked asphalt.

"Form a perimeter around this circle," Luna instructed the medical wardens, channeling a brilliant emerald grid across the tarmac.

"Doctor, we have twenty burn cases coming from the warehouse," a volunteer called out, wheeling a gurney forward.

"Bring them directly onto the glyphs and do not crowd the central node," Luna answered, her voice calm and absolute.

A diving Vorn interceptor aimed its secondary plasma repeaters directly at the radiant healing circle.

"Look out," Cole roared, throwing himself into the path of the caustic bolt with his shotgun raised high.

The blast vaporized his left shoulder armor in a cloud of acrid smoke, shattering the bone and severing the nerve cluster.

He collapsed against the sandbags with a strangled gasp, his left arm hanging limp and lifeless at his side.

"Cole," Luna called out, redirecting a focused emerald beam to seal his bleeding shoulder before shock could stop his heart.

"Stop shouting, healer, I am not dead yet," Cole wheezed, clenching his teeth as he propped his shotgun against a crate.

"I can still point with my right hand, so tell your boyfriend to take out that ship."

Leo leaped from the crane cables, his Null Razor blazing with silver counter-resonance as he carved through three diving drones.

"Sierra, take the left flank," Leo shouted in midair.

"Already on it, shadow boy," Sierra answered, her Night Spool spinning razor-thin phase-wire that decapitated two heavy skimmers.

[ Combat Synthesis Synchronized: District Barricade Held ]

[ LEVEL UP: Level 37 -> Level 38 ]

[ Free Stat Points: +5 Awarded ]

[ Spatial Reflexes Enhanced: Reaction Threshold Exceeding Peak D-Rank ]

Cassian lowered his binoculars from the gantry, his voice cutting through the comm channel with icy clarity.

"The shield conductor does not terminate on the exterior hull, Leo."

"Where does it go, Cassian?" Leo asked, wiping black alien blood from his cheek.

"It runs directly into the internal targeting spine deep inside the warship’s central atrium."

"A surface strike cannot disable their firing system in time."

Iron Regent landed heavily on the pavement, his colossal Mark-X siege armor venting coolant in thick white clouds.

"Then we go inside," Forge announced, tapping a control panel on his chest as the massive armor hissed open.

The interior was stripped completely bare of weapons systems, lined instead with five reinforced shock-absorption harnesses.

"This was never a siege weapon, kid," Elias Forge declared with a wide grin.

"It is a reinforced titanium boarding capsule painted to look like one."

"Are you telling me we are flying inside an empty suit?" Bekka asked, looking at the cramped seats.

"I am telling you we have ninety seconds before that cannon fires, so get inside the tin can," Forge answered.

Cole spat a mouthful of dark blood into the gutter, nodding with grim satisfaction.

"Go put a crowbar through their engine room, Leo."

"District 9 will keep the porch lights on until you get back."

"Is everyone secured in the harness?" Cassian asked, stepping through the capsule hatch with his rifle slung tight.

"Redline is in the back trying not to vibrate through the floorboards," Sierra answered, checking her Night Spool.

"Hey, vibrating is my natural resting state when we are about to shoot ourselves into space," Redline protested from the cabin.

"Keep your boots still, speedster, or I will tie your ankles to the bulkhead," Bekka warned, buckling her harness.

Leo looked back at Luna one last time from the doorway, meeting her steady, determined eyes.

"Bring them home, Leo," Luna said softly, her voice carrying over the crackle of burning debris.

"Every single one of them," Leo promised, pulling the hatch closed as the pneumatic locks engaged.