Another group of locals evaporated into ash.
"Target 11 o'clock low!" The commander called.
Gunnery cogitators hummed into action, las cannons snapping to the target.
"Fire." He ordered as the tribesmen dashed behind a wide sandstone outcropping.
The white hot blast shattered the cover, turning it into liquid shrapnel.
A slight smile tugged at his lips, some men might balk at killing simple mortals with such weapons. But to him it was good to be the biggest thing in the fight.