Harry's Tale BAAL ONE, PLIEADES CLUSTER 4110 The King of the Pleiades was well prepared for the last war. This, however, was not it. Harry was in charge of Five hundred young men assigned ground armor defense of a continent sized mass of craters along with thousands of others. Their retreat was a heavily guarded group of jump ships dug into escarpments at the far south of their front lines. No one could use the ships without jump codes, and a special "Mad Dog" platoon held those. Enemy forces came in for days butchering the Kings men, rumor had it predecessor technology had allowed them to breach the individual soldier’s armor and force-field shields. The merciless double sun of Baal 3 cooked the corpses they couldn't reach. Busted EVA suits spattered men in "blood fireworks”. The retreat threatened to become chaotic as discipline broke down. Day after day Harry fought bravely and watched his friends die. "Coral sky Unit is folding in the west. They've reported half their number dead. Jump ships are still days off sir." The corporal's face was desperate. "Tell them to hold their position. We move back in an orderly fashion." Harry snapped. He'd been following orders for a dignified retreat when what was in order was a wholesale run to the Jump-ships. Outside the whine of tracers and cry of ripping force-shields battered on. Suddenly the air was red, this time the smacking coming together in a wave of searing air. Harry found himself swirling in a massive dust cloud, the men piled in heaps among settling hot ash. Moments passed as he checked the integrity of his EVA fields. They were holding, barely. He cursed and looked about him again. "On your feet!" He howled, "Coral sky, can you hear me?" Voices came over the communications channels by the thousands. It was like opening a hatch on the torments of Hell. Harry returned to his communicator, Coral sky came through. The soldier’s voice sounded as if he was gargling. Harry realized he was drowning in his own blood.