They paid deductible tithes to their churches instead. Said churches just happened to also be their militias.

Orbital’s communications were a barrage of static and random words now. Definitely a jammer. This had been planned. It looked like the locals were determined to bag themselves a stormtrooper.

I wriggled to a new position as bullets tore chunks out of the brickwork. Any individual round had only a low percentage chance of breaching my armor but the Jihad were throwing thousands in my direction. A single one might cause me some serious health problems if the kinetic exchange mechanisms failed again.

“Dave, read them the Riot Act,” I said, ducking my head as the chaingun tore chunks out of the wall.

My drone said, “Are you sure that is appropriate, Stormtrooper 13? An aggressive verbal response might be construed as provocative.”

Dave was in advanced diplomatic mode, courtesy of the peacekeeping protocols.

“Just do it, Dave!”

“Affirmative, Stormtrooper 13.”

The drone’s amplified words boomed out across the town. Simultaneous machine translation allowed me to understand. “Citizens, you are in violation of section 4, paragraph 2, of Federal Security Act 931. Cease and desist from this anti-social behavior. Disperse and return to your homes or face due penalties of law. Thank you for your cooperation and have a nice day.”

That’s telling them, Dave, I thought. A burst of automatic weapon fire informed me that somebody had spotted Dave’s position.

Dave said, “Thank you for your feedback, Citizens.”

A blinking red icon on my heads-up display told me that my drone was under attack. I could probably have worked that out for myself. It looked like it was time to take matters into my own hands.

I thumbed the systems override and bellowed, “Stop shooting at me, you inbred halfwits!”

My amplified and translated words boomed out from Dave’s speakers. I got the retranslation. “Please stop shooting at me, Citizens.”

Small arms fire and shouts of die, Fed were the considered response. There was something about minion of the Devil Machines in there too. Then came a wave of obscenities that the speech filters turned to static. Apparently, the Federal Government did not want the bad language of my fellow citizens causing long term damage to my self-esteem.

“Stormtrooper 13. Stormtrooper 13. What is your situation? We have detected damage to drone Dee Vee Zero Zero One Three. Are you acting in a provocative manner toward the locals?”

“Good guess, Orbital.” My amplified words boomed out over the square courtesy of Dave’s sound system. That probably confused the militiamen. It was time to give them my full and undivided attention.

“Stop shooting at me, or I’ll hand you your heads!” I snarled.

Dave thundered his saccharine-toned mistranslation. “Citizens, if you don’t stop shooting at me I will be forced to respond with extreme violence. I’m sure none of us will enjoy that.”

Dave was wrong about the last bit. After days of abuse, thrown garbage, and the odd sniper shot, I was about ready for some payback. I got jeers and catcalls as well as another rocket impacting on the side of the bunker. The building shook.