First Contact - Chapter 971: The Shadows of Twilight

I did not seek rank. I merely sought to do my part. When leadership and guidance was thrust upon me by the Detainee’s strapon, I did not complain, I merely did my part. Which is why I’m no longer the gun toting private I once was.

I, too, was once like you. – Don of the E4 Mafia’s parting speech

Bit.nek stood at the edge of the skyraker hab complex, using the magnification in his visor to stare at the street below. The visor put it in red, silver, and black but he was used to crimson monochrome.

Wrecked vehicles, debris, evidence of fighting, decayed bodies and skeletons.

And a lot of shamblers heading up the street in a mass that had to contain at least two thousand of them.

–not good not good not good– 299 said.

“Get it together,” Bit.nek said, moving away from the edge. “We’re fine. We’re better than fine. We hold the high ground, Annie Can,” he told the green mantid riding in the protective housing between his shoulders. He turned his left palm up, activating the holoemitter and bringing up a keyboard as he walked back to his equipment case.

“I’m giving you a bunch of templates,” he said. He started typing with one hand. “And a list of tasks for the company battle buddies. Load up the 40mm grenade launcher with long life stationary repeater drones, we’ll start with twelve.”

–roger roger– 299 sent back.

Bit.nek could tell the little guy was stressed.

“We’re going to run them in four rings. First will have one drone, half mile out, second will have two, mile out, third will have three, two miles out, last will have six, three miles out. Run them in counter-orbits to the nearest ones. Clockwise, counter, clockwise, counter,” Bit.nek said.

–roger roger–

“Looks like SFC Abstrekal got wasted at launch. I want you to isolate his command and commo freak, we’re going to use that,” Bit.nek said. He knelt down next to the case and pulled out the Class-II nanoforge.

–why–

“Because he’s gone and I have a feeling the Detainee’s smothering Kilo Company with her Devil Mommy milkers,” Bit.nek said. “Gotta pull this fuck fuck circus together.”

–oh–

“Don’t worry about enemy or shamblers. Have the drones only scan for Kilo Company and 992 Infantry Battalion transponders only,” Bit.nek said. He closed his eyes and went through the context menus, loading up some templates from two of the memchips he’d slotted in the Ready Room, moving the encrypted data to his datalink and decrypting/decompressing it.

His 40mm on his shoulder chuffed three times.

–getting commo– 299 said.

“We’re not worried about that now. We’ve still got prep to…” he stopped. “All right, let me hear it.”

His datalink clinked.

“all over us! They’re everywhere!”

“…get off me get off me get off me…”

“…sarge is down! Oh fuck, the sarge is down…”

“fuck fuck fuck fuck”

“…report, dammit, report! What is going on?”

Bit.nek sighed and cut the link.

The net was completely jammed up.

“Next set of drones, put a signal amplifier on the repeater,” he said. “Use the rocket launcher to get a four pack set of stationary mapping drones up. Put them out to five thousand feet, cross pattern,” he looked around. “Yeah, this isn’t bad.”

The rocket launcher roared as all four missiles ripple fired.

Bit.nek looked around, took a deep breath, and stood up from where he’d finished crossloading the nanoforge templates from his datalink to the nanoforge.

The 40mm coughed six more times then went back into storage position.

“If I run into Casey again, I owe him a beer,” Bit.nek mumbled as he moved over to the broadcast tower on the roof. He moved up to the main cable and wrapped his right hand around it, activating the induction jack. “299, when you get a second, see if you can crack the gate on this thing. I want to use it.”

–working– 299 said. –done not going to get in trouble for hacking–

“No. Whoever owns this isn’t using it,” Bit.nek said. “Put the signal strength for this big bastard on my visor as well as what freaks it can transmit.”

–roger roger– 299 said. –sorry trying to do lot at once scared too–

“Wait till we start fighting. Don’t worry, buddy, pretty soon doing three or four things at once will be second nature to you,” Bit.nek said. “You’ll get where I am where you’re scared but it’s covered up by ‘aw hell, not this shit again’ apathy.”

–he he he–

The numbers appeared and Bit.nek frowned at them. “Platoon Sergeant’s private freak is on there?”

–yes–

“OK, patch us into it.”

–okily dokily–

He opened up the Kilo Company commo band and winced.

“Use my PopTop avatar, not my unit one,” he said.

–oh ok–

His icon switched from a picture from his 201 file to a set of crossed magac pistols in between two bottles of Ol’ Smokey ‘No.

Everyone was freaking out, panicking, screaming for orders or screaming conflicting orders.

“…they fucking pulled him apart even in a suit…”

“…they’re everywhere…”

“fuck fuck fuck fuck”

“GET SOME, MOTHERFUCKERS!”

He took a deep breath, rammed the volume and power to max on the big antenna.

“AT EASE THAT SHIT!” he roared out.

The band went silent.

“All Kilo Company elements, all Kilo Company elements,” he snapped. “Activate grav-anchor systems and jump straight up the side of the nearest building. Get to at least one hundred feet up. Anchor to ferrocrete or durasteel only, not macroplas windows,” he said. “Alter external camouflage to red. Incoming camo template. All greenies, move external camou to template.”

“Who is…” someone started.

“MAINTAIN RADIO SILENCE!” he bellowed out. “Icon flash replies only!”

–finding transponders–

“The shamblers can’t climb the side of a building but they can slambang out a macroplas window,” he growled. “Get up there and hold position. Once you’re up there, lock your armor joints and relax in the armor. Put your tongue against the roof of your mouth and breath through your nose. No talking.”

A few started talking.

“DO IT NOW!” he roared out. “DAXIN STAB YOUR EYES! DO IT IF YOU WANT TO LIVE!”

Icons started appearing and blinking.

“Put up a map of the city on the roof here, one to a hundred. Put the transponders up,” Bit.nek said. “See if you can isolate the CO’s transponder.”

“Squad leaders, get headcount. Highest ranking in group if no squad leader. If you’re alone, just hang on the side of the building, I’ll get to you,” Bit.nek said. “Second Platoon, you’re sole Platoon Sergeant. First and Third Platoon Leaders, your Platoon Sergeants are dead, choose from your subordinates who to take over. Don’t transmit, once we get accountability we’ll relink the chain of command.”

Bit.nek closed his eyes.

–found co xo 1sg– 299 said.

“How far apart are they?”

–all together– 299 said. –toc pod transponder–

Bit.nek started biting off curses.

–what–

“Goddamn boot mistake,” he snarled. “Oh, we’ll just drop with the TOC pod so we can instantly set up the TOC. You’re supposed to put a heavy weapons squad in the TOC pod so they can defend the damn thing while the rest of the pods orient on it.”

–oh–

“Goddamn boot mistake,” he grumbled. “I’m gonna kick all three of their asses up by their shoulderblades.”

He walked around the slowly forming map of the city.

“I can talk to you, you can’t talk to me,” Bit.nek said over the Platoon Sergeant’s channel. “If you’re up high, switch your icon from ready to standby. Take a drink of water and a pull of nutripaste. No broadcasts further than immediate range commo. If you can’t see them or can’t touch them, no talking to them. We’ve got shamblers and enemy in the street.”

Bit.nek cursed. The company was smeared out across the city and the suburbs, but of fucking course the TOC was downtown.

With a building on top of it.

To Bit.nek it looked like the TOC pod had slammed into the side of a non-hardened government building and ended up in the basement before the whole thing had collapsed on them.

“Can you isolate the CO’s signal?” he asked.

–working–

“Good man,” Bit.nek said.

He started grouping up the icons that were on standby into squads based on who was nearby, using highest ranking within 500 meters as the new squad leader then next highest ranking.

It took him almost five minutes, but he got a coordinated movement plan in.

“Incoming movement orders,” Bit.nek snapped. “Execute when ready. New chain of command appended.”

Someone tried to argue but Bit.nek ran feedback across the channel until they shut up.

–got the co–

“Hook me up to him,” Bit.nek said. He took a deep breath. “I’m about to chew the ass of a superior officer,” he said. He sighed. “Well, I’ve bounced back up to PFC or Corporal before.”

His commo clinked twice and the CO’s face appeared. Bit.nek could tell by the way the CO’s uniform was hanging that he was upside down.

“Whose this?” the CO asked.

“Nice job, dumbass,” Bit.nek said. “All three of you in the TOC pod? Fucking brilliant, sir.”

“Bit.nek,” the CO said.

“First thing you’ve gotten right since this fuck fuck circus started,” Bit.nek said. “Half the chain is down or dead, the men were panicking, and you’re sitting in the TOC drinking Bingo Cola and jerking off to the Detainee’s dummy thicc clapping ass cheeks.”

The CO grinned. “Hard of me to deny it, Private. How’s it going out there?”

“Oh, you know, the usual,” Bit.nek said. “Everyone’s scattered to fuck and gone. My dipshit squad leader punched us out of the M9 pod at like 50,000 feet because we were taking light ranging fire. The Platoon Sergeant’s dead.”

He paused for a second.

“Oh, and Kilo Company leadership thought it would be fucking smart to have all three highest ranking members of the company is the same pod, much less the damn TOC pod, for a pod launch under fire,” Bit.nek said. “Genius move there, sir.”

“It seemed like a good idea at the time,” Captain Vergeskit said, giving a rueful chuckle.

“Yeah, and that coingirl outside the e-club didn’t look like no MP,” Bit.nek shot back.

“Private Bit.nek,” the CO’s voice was suddenly deadly serious.

“Yes, sir?” Bit.nek was looking over the map, watching the icons shift and move.

“I don’t know why you keep getting busted. Maybe you’re trying to avoid rank, avoid responsibility. Maybe the only time you feel alive is when the adrenaline flows,” the CO said slowly. “But right here, right now, you have to step up. You have to take control and lead my men,” his face got serious. “If you don’t, if you don’t step up, every death will be on you. You can do this,” the Captain’s face was grave. “I’ll back you up after the fact, but right now, you have to step up.”

Bit.nek sighed and nodded. “Yes, sir. I’m just not NCO material.”

“Your awards say otherwise, Private.”

“Yeah, well the ribbons and a sawbuck will get the waitress to piss in your coffee,” Bit.nek said.

“We’ve tried getting the pod free, but it looks like we’re stuck,” The CO said. “I can’t really hear anyone and it looks like the quark commo is out.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve got a pretty big government building on top of you. The shielding is probably fouling your commo and sensors,” Bit.nek said. He glanced at the map. “I’ll leave you in channel, but I’ve gotta get Kilo moving.”

The CO nodded.

Bit.nek looked at where everyone had grouped up into small groups. From one side to the other, there was ten miles between the two furthest out groups.

He used his map to set waypoints for each group and uploaded them to the datalink he had named “KILO BATTACK(TEMP)” and opened the channel.

“All right. I’ve sent your greenies paint templates. Jump from building to building, I’ve built you routes. If you need to rest, fire a paint round at the next jump, give it ten seconds, grav-anchor in the middle of the paint splotch. The shades can’t get through it. Remember, ferrocrete or durasteel anchor points only. We don’t want a suicide shambler to tackle you down to street level and crush you under a pane of macroplas,” he said.

Icons started winking.

“We’re scattered, but I’ve got you now,” Bit.nek said. “We’ll rally of the rooftop of the hab complex. I’m setting up a temporary TOC here. Any trouble, use channel Delta,” he told them. “Otherwise, radio silence, icon flashes only.”

The icons flashed.

–got something in the street– 299 said.

“Get it done, Kilo,” Bit.nek said and cut the channel. “What ya got?”

–dunno– 299 sent a shrug emoji. –not match on enemy vehicle silhouette or profile south side street–

Bit.nek moved over, bringing up the datasheet from the briefing. The Ultressian vehicles were pretty standard. Tracked tanks in the 200 to 400 ton range, hover vehicles, standard cargo vehicles, standard aerospace fighters, standard strikers.

He looked down, cocked his head, then zoomed in.

“What. The. Fuck?” he said slowly.

Down below were four large vehicles. They had tracks underneath, articulated legs. A pair of skis were in the middle front, with dozer blades on either side. The claws were intact, the circular main body was rounded, a cannon stuck out from the front.

It looked like an armored and armed crab with dozer blades and skis.

Bit.nek started snickering as he stepped back.

He took a minute to laugh, got it under control, then stepped back up and looked down.

The shamblers, even if they were knocked down, ignored it.

He opened the CO’s channel. “Sir, I’ve encountered four elements of enemy armor. No markings I can see. They’re moving down the street.”

The CO frowned. “I thought shambler went after tanks,” he said.

“They have to know they’re tanks, sir,” Bit.nek snickered. “I don’t think this is exactly pinging their IFF right.”

He shot a still of the tanks to the CO.

He could tell when the CO saw it because he burst out laughing. “What the shit?”

“I think it’s safe to say the Ultressian decided to go a different direction this time,” Bit.nek said. “How long ago did they lock horns with Confed?”

“Uh,” the CO checked a file. “Eight hundred years ago. They got thumped pretty bad. MilInt thinks the Mar-gite went through their territory too.”

“So, that is the pinnacle of eight hundred years of weapon design?” Bit.nek snickered.

“I guess,” the CO said.

Bit.nek touched his helmet. “All Kilo elements, be advised there is enemy armor in the streets. Uploading silhouette, profile, and optical appearance. Do not engage the enemy at this time,” he sent out.

The CO nodded approvingly.

“299, see if there are any intact goodboi pounds or simba nests in the city. Check for snack packs and see if any stampy or beepy got down safe,” he said.

–roger roger–

“Gonna cut you out, sir,” Bit.nek said. He turned back to the map. “Someone’s gotta get this fuck fuck circus under control.”

The CO just nodded and stared.

—–

“How bad?” Lieutenant Colonel Ssalressk looked at Major Tut’el.

“When the transport broke up, it rapid fired the pods. We were in counter-orbit, so we were moving at fifteen kay a second. Even at maximum angle, the grav-launchers scattered most of the Division across a streak nearly eight hundred kay long and sixty-kay wide.”

“We have communication with orbit?” Ssalressk asked.

Tut’el shook his head. “SAR, orbital fire support, it’s spotty. Other than that, the Ultressian just brought in three more waves of reinforcement.”

“Dammit,” the Colonel moved over to the holotank and stared at it. After a moment he looked up. “Your boy?”

“Kilo Company’s scattered across Tuffy City,” Tut’el said. “Jamming is heavy and shamblers always screw up quantum commo. We keep hearing them moan on it.”

“Your boy alive?” the Colonel asked.

Tut’el nodded. “Got a ping off his armor’s transponder. Looks like Kilo is moving in on his position. CO and XO and First Shirt are all stationary, not sure why.”

The Colonel sighed. “All right. Keep me posted. I’m going to talk with Brigade and Regiment,” he lit a cigarette. “Someone’s gotta get this fuck fuck circus under control.”