Things were deteriorating on all fronts. Ammo was down to half at best, and wounded were piling up. She herself was now resting herself fully on her cover. She could no longer move for fear of agony shooting through everything in her.

  She coughed wetly. She had only checked once, though, and it wasn't spit. It was blood. Add to it that breathing was getting harder and she could smell and barely taste her burnt flesh, it was a miracle she wasn't vomiting to death.

  A bolt of plasma flew overhead, and she refocused. She was getting woozy. Shock, maybe. She shook her head, and returned fire. She barely saw the outline of the damn aliens now, just a blob of mass. Still, she fired and it dropped.

  She crawled down, and checked her mag. 17? She had one mag left plus 17. She sighed wetly, and crawled back up. God but it hurt...

  She tried to find targets, and emptied the rest of her mag. Before she could reload, her lungs seized up. She tried to gasp but couldn't. She fell back and slammed her back on the ground.

  She tried to breathe, failed. She tried to stop her rising panic. She flipped to her side, and hit her chest. Nothing happened. She hit harder, and her lungs spasmed. Before she hit a third time, the medic rushed over to her.

  "What happened?!" He said, sliding to a stop and kneeling. He checked her over, and cursed loudly. He didn't speak as he dug through his pouches. He pulled out something, and extended it. It was a collapsible tube.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  "Sorry bud. This will hurt like a bitch..." He muttered. He positioned the tube over her mouth, and slowly inserted the tube. She shuddered, and grabbed his arm. She barely stopped from squeezing his arm to powder.

  When he finished, he applied pressure to her chest slowly. Her vision was fading, her other hand beat at the ground. She was panicking now.

  He pushed harder, and yellowish clear fluid began draining from her. She shuddered again, and coughed. Liquid sprayed out. She gave a shuddering breath, then another. She was alive. She could breathe...

  She started crying, tears falling down and stinging her face. She was alive.!

  The medic dragged her back to the wounded, and before he left, she gave him all but 1 of her pistol magazines. She had dropped her M7 somewhere, but gave her final mag too. He nodded, then ran off.

  She lay back, still struggling to breathe, in complete and utter agony. But alive... she was still alive...

  She coughed up liquid again, and shuddered viscerally. She was dying slow. It was going to be a bad way to die, but still she struggled to keep cognizant. She tried and tried, the world falling away as she focused everything she had on taking a breath.

  Breathe in, wait 2 seconds, breathe out. Breathe in, wait two seconds, breathe out. The sound of gunfire approached, but she paid it no mind. Breathe in, wait 2 seconds, breathe out.

  Shouting erupted, and she hazily saw a grunt pop over their little Alamo. The others were busy, she saw. It raised its pistol. She had her gun in her hand. She lifted it slowly. It fired at the infantrywoman 5 feet away.

  By providence or gods own will maybe, it flew wide and hit the dirt. The woman turned, gun swinging. It would be too late.

  Nivka locked her arm in position, and pulled the trigger. She fired again, and again, and again. The grunt spasmed, and fell. She unlocked her arm, and it flopped to the ground. Her pistol flew off to God knows where, and she sighed.

  She was dying now. Properly. As she faded to black, she saw that infantrywoman looking at her. And... was that... roters?

  Before she fell, she saw the streak of missles landing... they were saved... but just too late for her... She fell into unconsciousness, her agony fading, and her breathing slowing, slowing, stopping.