By John Ringo
WITH pals LIKE THESE... With the Earth within the direction of the rapacious Posleen, the peaceable and pleasant races of the Galactic Federation provide their assets to assist the backward Terrans -- for a value. Humanity now has 3 worlds to safeguard. As Earth's armies rush into conflict and specified operations devices scout alien worlds, the people start to examine a priceless lesson: you could guard yourself out of your enemies, yet could the Lord prevent out of your allies.
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Extra resources for A Hymn Before Battle
What the hell is it? " He leaned forward, curiosity written all over his face. "It's real," said Ellsworthy. " "Hold it," said Mosovich, "it's friendly. " "First meetings are always so revealing," said the Himmit, shifting from the color of the wall to its natural gray-purple then back. It appeared to be agitated. The group of special operations personnel reacted with mixed but muted reactions. Only the black commo sergeant got up and stepped away. "Siddown Sergeant Martine, it's harmless," snapped Mosovich.
To take his mind off of the stupid bastard as he waited for last formation to be called, Duncan studied the latest black box they had been issued. It was about the size of the pack of Marlboros in his left breast pocket and flat, absorbent black, very similar in appearance to their AIDs. Black as an ace of spades. 308 round through. He'd already tried. Several times, just to be sure. And it didn't even move the box when the shells ricocheted off; that was freaky. 308 rounds came back up range at the Fort Bragg Rod and Gun club.
If not, we can wait until another Himmit ship is scheduled for pickup four months after landing. " He paused and considered the rough notes he and Ersin had sketched out. They were not in detail; with a team like this one you solicited input as the training and preparation proceeded. "A couple of notes. We'll be loading heavy. " He smiled at the various grimaces on the team members' faces. Every one of them at one time or another had dealt with "foraging" on the run, and it was not a pleasant experience.
A Hymn Before Battle by John Ringo