Katja sat down hard on a supply crate. “OK… I’m just going to call it: the only thing more fucked up than fighting in a city is fighting in a mine. These tunnels are bullet funnels. Worse than alleys. And you can’t call in air support to blow the shit out of something when it’s in the way. I’m lodging formal protest when we’re done killing everyone.”
“Something to look forward to,” Marco Sandoval answered off-hand.
“Well, I’m sure the Admiral values your considered opinion and I have every confidence he will priority flag your grievance,” Esta dead-panned.
“He fucking should,” Katja replied, setting aside her Beowulf 12-Gauge. “I’m an underworld goddess of death.”
“Just think though,” I said. “All this experience, you can write the Fleet tactical manual when we’re done.”
Katja tore open a protein bar. “Sure,” she said between mouthfuls. “It’s going to be titled ‘Subterranean Operations: same as shoving your head up your ass except someone is shooting at you too.’
“See how inspiring she is?” Chandra exclaimed.