Lyon led the charge, sprinting at the front.
Ace, Maggie, Frost, Rico, and the rest of the 226th Combat Platoon followed closely behind.
The entire platoon advanced into the smoke-filled town, their determination cutting through the chaos. Around them, other platoons—particularly those whose lieutenants and junior officers had been sniped by the clones—also began their assault.
From above, it was clear that about a quarter of the mobile infantry had decided to attack, emboldened by Lyon's example.
The remaining three-quarters, however, held back, frozen by the orders of their officers and Colonel Honard Thompson, as well as by their fear of the clones' overwhelming firepower.
Lyon and his temporarily commandeered 226th Combat Platoon managed to cross the open desert between the two forces without significant losses, finally reaching the devastated western side of the town. The landscape was riddled with craters and trenches from the Thunderbolt airstrike.
The clones stationed there had suffered heavy casualties from the bombing and were unable to regroup and mount effective suppression fire.
This gave the mobile infantry newfound confidence in their ability to fight and win.
Lyon and his troops climbed over the crumbled western wall, pushing into the town's interior. Once inside, they began setting up defensive positions to secure their foothold and protect incoming reinforcements.
Seeing that the vanguard of the mobile infantry had breached the town with minimal casualties, the rest of the soldiers—those still outside—began to stir with renewed courage.
Colonel Honard Thompson, unwilling to let the situation slip further out of his control, issued a direct order over the comms:
"All units, advance into the town and eliminate the enemy!"
Unbeknownst to Thompson and the bulk of the mobile infantry, 2,000 cloned soldiers had already flanked south and north of the town, bypassing the western entry point.
While this maneuver seemed like an attempt to encircle Lyon's forces, the clones' actual goal was to intercept and stall the hesitant main force commanded by Thompson.
Tat-tat-tat!
Ri~BOOM!
Gunfire and explosions erupted across the desert once again, louder and fiercer than before.
The clones deployed two Hunter-Killer main battle tanks, nicknamed "land destroyers," to support their assault. These tanks, mounted on hover chassis, were armed with dual 120mm Gauss cannons—lethal weapons comparable to naval-grade secondary batteries.
Against armored units, these tanks were devastating. Against infantry, the results were catastrophic.
When the mobile infantry were hit by the Gauss cannons, their bodies were obliterated, leaving no remains to recover.
The clones piloting the tanks used their targeting systems to prioritize officers—both junior and senior—using the mobile infantry's ad-hoc communication network for precise scans.
This deliberate targeting of leadership further disrupted the already chaotic command structure of the Federation forces.
However, the clones deliberately avoided attacking Colonel Honard Thompson himself.
The Investigation Division of the Imperium, which had been monitoring the mobile infantry's communications, had instructed the clones to spare the highest-ranking officer. They believed that Thompson's incompetence would ultimately elevate the status of individuals like Lyon and Maggie, who were better suited for leadership.
Furthermore, the clones were ordered to let Lyon's group and the 1/4 of the mobile infantry who followed him reach the town unscathed.
The reasoning was clear: those soldiers, now separated from Thompson's command, were more likely to align themselves with Lyon and follow his lead during the ensuing urban combat—and later, during the potential "joint operations" to come.
Meanwhile, the hesitant majority who obeyed Thompson's orders became the clones' primary targets for suppression and attrition.
Even so, the clones did not unleash their full lethality.
Aside from systematically sniping officers and missile operators, the clones displayed markedly poor aim when firing on rank-and-file infantry.
The rare instances of fatal hits among the infantry were attributed more to bad luck than deliberate effort.
"Oh my God! The lieutenant's down!"
"Medic! Medic!"
"Don't bother with a medic; there's nothing left of him to patch up!"
"Do we keep pushing forward, or do we retreat?!"
The main force of mobile infantry, under fire from the 2,000 clones and the Hunter-Killers, found their fragile morale crumbling once more.
While some soldiers fired back, and the missile teams attempted to engage the tanks, the latter were immediately sniped before they could fire their weapons.
Seeing their comrades picked off so efficiently, no one else dared to even touch the launchers.
The clones' snipers systematically targeted sergeants, lieutenants, and other officers, leaving ordinary infantry and support personnel—such as medics and engineers—relatively unscathed.
However, the remaining infantry began to notice the clones splitting into two groups and spreading outward, with the apparent intention of encircling them.
At this point, Colonel Thompson issued another command over the comms:
"Everyone, keep moving forward! We can't fight them out here in the open. We need to push into the town and use the buildings as cover. Charge!"
Reassured that their commander was still alive and issuing orders, the soldiers hesitated no longer. They crossed the destroyed western wall and flooded into the town's western streets and alleys.
Inside the town:
The 226th Combat Platoon, along with a few other platoons that had lost their officers, took control of a large two-story shopping mall.
The soldiers began fortifying the mall, intending to use it as a defensive stronghold and forward command post for the advancing Federation forces.
In the mall's ground-floor lobby:
"Sergeant, there's hardly anything useful here," Ace said as he approached, holding two bottles of water. He handed one to Lyon.
Lyon took the bottle, unscrewed the cap, and drank nearly half of it before sealing it again.
Frowning thoughtfully, he speculated:
"They probably didn't want to leave anything for us to scavenge. But the lack of civilians suggests something more—this town was abandoned long before we got here."
"Maybe they anticipated our actions even before we entered the New Hope system," Frost added, his radio gear strapped to his back.
"No resources, no civilians, no signs of agriculture or livestock farms…" Rico observed. Combining this with everything they had encountered so far, he turned to Lyon and said gravely:
"Sergeant, do you think we've walked into a trap?"
Bang. Whoosh—!
Boom! BOOM!
The sounds of bullets striking walls, shells exploding, and gunfire echoed continuously outside.
On the eastern side of the mall, Federation infantry used whatever heavy objects they could find to barricade doors and windows, turning them into makeshift firing positions. From there, they engaged the clones in fierce gunfights.
For the first time, the infantry had a clear view of the clones' equipment.
Each clone wore long, trench-coat-style combat uniforms that covered their entire bodies. Their helmets emitted an eerie red glow from their visor-like eyepieces.
The clones were also equipped with mechanical exoskeletons—technology reserved for elite units in the Federation—and their heavily armored plating covered all vital areas.
Even without engaging directly, the infantry could tell from their appearance alone that the clones' equipment was far superior to their own.
What shocked the soldiers even more was the clones' resilience.
Snipers and marksmen among the infantry reported that even when they landed shots on the clones' weak points—such as the neck or sides—these soldiers didn't cry out or fall. Instead, they stumbled momentarily before resuming combat as if nothing had happened.
Only after repeated hits to critical areas would a clone collapse and die.
Witnessing this, the Federation sharpshooters and snipers began to question their understanding of combat.
"What kind of humans can take hits like that and keep fighting?"
The Morita precision rifles and sniper rifles were powerful weapons, capable of leaving most soldiers dead or crippled with a single shot. Yet the clones seemed almost impervious to pain, which deeply unsettled the sharpshooters.
They immediately reported their findings.
Upon hearing this, Lyon and Maggie joined a group of soldiers at the eastern barricade, peering out through windows and cracks in the walls to observe the clones.
While Lyon and Maggie, as Imperial investigators, understood the clones' nature, Rico, Frost, and the other native-born Federation soldiers were horrified.
Ace's exaggerated reaction said it all:
"They've been shot multiple times and are still fighting?! Damn it—enemy or not, you've gotta respect their willpower. If it weren't for this war, I'd buy them a drink!"
Rico rolled his eyes. "Are you sure they're even human? You screamed bloody murder when a drill sergeant cut your hand. These guys? Nothing."
"Uh…" Ace didn't know how to respond.
"Sergeant! Take a look at this!"
"God almighty… What are we fighting against?!"
A group of infantry soldiers suddenly dragged a clone's corpse into the mall, shouting as they went.
Lyon and the others turned to see a body riddled with bullet holes and shrapnel wounds. The clone's trench coat and armor were torn to pieces, exposing injuries so deep that bones and even internal organs were visible.
The helmet, cracked and broken, had been removed, revealing the clone's true face: pale, wrink
led, scarred, and utterly devoid of emotion. Its blood-red eyes stared blankly into space.
"This thing isn't human…" Ace muttered in disbelief.
"There are six more like it in the basement," one soldier added.
"All identical…" Maggie, who had been mostly silent, finally spoke:
"Sergeant, they're clones. And judging by their behavior, the Imperium must have disabled their pain receptors."
"Clones…"
"Yeah."
The Federation soldiers nodded, beginning to accept the explanation. While cloning wasn't unheard of in the Federation, the degree of modification these soldiers displayed was unsettling.
"All right, enough gawking. Clone or not, they can still be killed," Lyon interjected. He turned to Ace and Frost.
"Have the other platoons that entered the town help us set up a communications base here. This mall will serve as our forward command post."
"Yes, Sergeant."
The two quickly left to relay the orders.
Lyon then addressed the soldiers who had brought the corpse:
"Collect any valuable equipment and weapons from the enemy dead. We'll need every resource we can scavenge—this could turn into a prolonged engagement.
Spread the word to the other platoons: gather everything useful."
"Yes, sir!"
Finally, Lyon turned to Rico and Maggie:
"Rico, take your first squad and follow me and the third squad. We're going to push east and expand our foothold.
Maggie, you and your second squad stay here with the fourth squad. If Colonel Thompson arrives and gives orders that align with mine, follow them. If not, ignore him. Understood?"
"Understood, sir," Maggie replied firmly.
Rico hesitated but nodded, leading his squad to join Lyon's push toward the east. As they advanced, he leaned closer to Lyon and whispered:
"Sergeant, aren't you openly defying the colonel? You'll be court-martialed…"
"Court-martialed?" Lyon smirked bitterly. "If we keep following that fool, none of us will live long enough to stand trial. Let's focus on surviving first."
Rico sighed. "Fair enough."
He signaled his squad to stay alert as they moved.
Lyon's advancing force, initially fewer than 20 men, was soon bolstered by additional platoons contacted via Ace and Frost.
Their combined numbers swelled to over 300 soldiers, forming a coordinated force to expand their occupied territory.
But as they pushed east, they encountered tactical squads of cloned soldiers, and brutal urban skirmishes broke out…
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