"I'm actually an alien," says the little girl.

I have no idea how to take this, Lachlan thinks. His training as a security guard didn't cover it, nor did it cover how to deal with running into a hot guy from a past he's trying to hide from, or avoid alien conspiracies when they come knocking.

Wait, what? That last one must be wrong, aliens aren't real.

...Right?

Head In The Stars

Aron thumbed down the cartridge, counting each bullet, then slotted the clip back into the gun. It was full and even if he used it all, he still had that little plasma pistol as a backup. Satisfied, he raised his rifle and looked down its sight.

The enemy had them backed into a corner, or at least, they thought they did. To Aron the enemy's current configuration wasn't even worth mentioning and that was even before considering his arsenal. The enemy was right to fear and lust after their M-Weapons.

Aron lowered his rifle and began his descent into the enemy camp.

The pot of gruel boiled and bubbled for a minute before its cook turned down the gas, leaving it to simmer. Ten minutes had passed since their captain had left to deal with the enemy's blockade and though she'd followed him through countless mission by this point, she still found herself tense each time the gunfire died away.

Chapter Fifty-Three