First Contact - Chapter 982: The Shadows of Twilight

Every unit has ‘that guy’ and if you think your unit doesn’t…

Well…

…I’m happy for you, and I hope you never end up finding him. – Bits of Brass and Drops of Blood, biography of General of the Warsteel Tut’el, Telkan Marine Corps (ret), New Telkan Press, 25 TXE

Bit.nek turned away as the Captain got out of the drop pod, activating his speakers and talking loudly enough that he knew everyone could hear him over the thumping on the doors.

“Get a buddy! Check each other’s armor. Look for bites in it, look for gouges or scrapes, look for chunks torn away. Those are dead Terrans, they’ve got enough phasic power to tear through warsteel mark zero laminate like these suits are using!” he called out. He waved at PFC GwertNak, moving over to him. “Let me check you.”

The M318 gunner raised his arms into the T-pose at Bit.nek’s insistence and slowly turned around.

“You’ve got some gouges and scratches on your backplate, two scratches on your battle buddy’s protective housing, but nothing deeper than a layer or two,” he said. He held his arms out. “Now do me.”

“Um, you have some scuffs, that’s about it,” PFC GwertNak said after a minute.

Bit.nek nodded. “All right. I want you to use your secondary nanoforge and fab up everyone new ammo sticks. Get us back to double basic fighting load,” he said.

“Pull a couple of times on your tits,” he called out. “Check your weapons!”

The CO, Captain Vergeskit, moved up next to Bit.nek and tapped him. When Bit.nek turned the CO motioned him over by the pod. Once they were at the side of everyone, the CO bumped helmets with Bit.nek and used the induction system.

“How’s Kilo look, Private?” Captain Vergeskit asked.

Bit.nek snorted. “Hanging on by the skin of their teeth, but hanging on. Got these guys through their first firefight and their first movement under fire/attack, so we’ll see if they fall apart when we get back to the top of the building.”

“What’s your plan?” the CO asked.

“Up. Back the way we came has about ten thousand Mister Hungry in it. By now, any Fionnas that weren’t stunned by the atomic will be following Mister Hungry to see what he’s looking for,” Bit.nek said. “We’ll go up and out, mount the sides of the buildings, and do Peter’s Park movement back.”

The CO flashed a grin on his icon. “That should be fun. I’ve seen it, but it isn’t something we’ve ever trained for.”

Bit.nek forced down irritation. “Did you guys train for anything?”

The CO was silent for a moment and Bit.nek had a mental image of his rank flying away on little wings.

“Standard infantry tactics. Large scale fighting. We’re not even Planetary Assault,” the CO said slowly. “If you want a standard infantry attack, we’re your men. If you want us to dig in and hold a position, we’re your guys.”

He paused for a second. “This fuck fuck circus? No, we weren’t trained for it,” there was another pause. “That was supposed to be the job of guys like you, but we deployed too soon when the Ultressian decided they wanted to slice off a big chunk of the Biological Artificial Sentient Systems.”

Bit.nek took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Can’t be helped now, sir. Learn OJT (On the Job Training) or die. Just like any other encounter between green troops and the enemy.”

“How bad are our casualties?” he asked.

“Got a lot missing. Probably twenty percent,” Bit.nek said.

The CO grunted. “That’s the kind of casualty rates that gets boards of inquiry formed.”

Bit.nek gave out a sharp, barking laugh. “Sir, I’ve seen battalions that had less than a platoon left when the Dwellerspawn and the Slorpies were done with them, but there was nothing but sad squid noises and rotting Dwellerspawn left. I’ve seen entire divisions wiped out by Flickering Fionna and Mister Hungry,” he said. “So far? We’ve gotten off light.”

The CO just nodded, stepping back.

PFC Zwerktik moved up to Bit.nek. “Three guys with bites all the way to the armor-flex layer before the kinetic sleeve. A couple of bad gouges, but nothing through the laminate.”

Bit.nek dug in a pocket, pulling out a roll of black tape that shimmered. “Put this on the bites. It’ll synch up to the camo system and has warsteel fiber weave. Best we can do.”

PFC Zwerktik nodded, taking the roll of tape and jogging away.

“You’re prepared for almost anything,” the First Sergeant said.

“Proper preparation prevents piss poor performance,” Bit.nek said. He raised his voice. “Stay off the magic band. Here on out, external speakers and mics only! I want that band clear, understood?”

Everyone nodded, agreed, or just raised a fist.

“I’ll be fielding a lot of complaints about you when we get out of here, private,” Top said.

“At least they’ll be alive to piss and moan,” Bit.nek said. He opened his faceplate and sniffed at the air, scrunching his nose.

“Mr. Hungry’s bringing in more friends,” he said. He spit onto the ground and closed his faceplate. He turned around. “We need to move out! New waypoints uploading!” He tossed the glittering datapacket underhand and it dissolved into a sparkle in mid-air. “Peter’s Park movement when we get out of here. Remember, solid landing points only, no macroplas. I don’t want to squeegee you up off the pavement.”

Icons blinked in response.

“Let’s get going before we get something nasty down here that can bust through the door,” Bit.nek said. He pointed at another door. “Get it open. Far side of the room is collapsed but it should be open to the street.”

“Why didn’t we take that?” the XO asked.

“Because the street was full of Mister Hungry and I didn’t feel like having him tab up the butcher’s bill on my squad,” Bit.nek said.

PFC Zwerktik got out their cutter and started cutting. Two troops moved up behind them, bringing their rifles up to ready position. PFC GwertNak came up and handed Bit.nek some new ammo sticks and Bit.nek took the time to reload his ammo pouches and slot a new magazine in his SMG.

“I’ll take point,” Bit.nek said. He checked his weapons, then stood still for a moment, just swinging his arms back and forth. “Once we start moving, we don’t stop. Man in front of you or beside you goes down, you haul him back up. We stop, Mister Hungry will pull us down and rip us apart if Fionna doesn’t snatch out our souls.”

The CO noticed there was just tight nods, a lot of fire selectors going from safe to live, and a feeling of tension through the squad.

“Got it,” Zwerktik said, straightening up. They put their hand on the door. “Ready?”

“Steady,” Bit.nek said. “SPC Ilvrekit, you’re on drag again.”

The Specialist just blinked his icon in acknowledgement.

“GO GO GO!” Zwerktik yanked open the door, revealing a room with almost two dozen dead creatures inside.

That all turned slowly to look.

The CO watched as Bit.nek hurtled into the room, snapping off bursts from his SMG as he closed. He kicked on in half without breaking stride, clotheslined another’s head clean off, and smashed the base of the pistol grip of the SMG against the side of the other before he hit the rubble that created a slope at the far end.

To the CO’s surprise LT Ilvarwazz was third through the gap, firing his pistol as he ran.

Bit.nek was already jumping up the rubble pile, kicking down sprays of gravel as he quickly vanished.

“Sir, you’re next,” one of the Privates said. His transponder was off and his armor was red, only his rank visible.

Captain Vergeskit hustled across as fast as he could, the XO and 1SG right after him. He climbed up the rubble, using his hands and feet, feeling a slight bit of embarassment at how fast the others just bounded up the rubble.

He could hear weapons fire from above as he kicked and scrabbled at the rubble.

By the time he got to the top PFC Bit.nek was pointing at one of the skyrakers, his hand on LT Ilvarwazz’s shoulder to use the induction link.

“Let’s go!” LT Ilvarwazz yelled out over speakers.

The CO had prided himself on his physical fitness, getting over 80% on the annual Army Physical Fitness Test, but for some reason he was panting hard as he ran with everyone else for the building. He could see Bit.nek and LT Ilvarwazz were in the lead, the private snapping off fast bursts with his SMG.

A half block and the squad started jumping up, leaping a good thirty meters at a time, up onto the sides of the building, spreading out so there was a single line with no two troops on the same slice of ferrocrete.

“Watch the macroplas,” Bit.nek called out, still in the lead.

Before Captain Vergeskit could ask why the macroplas on his left exploded outwards, the shatterproof hyperpolymer exploding into tiny squares. A body snarled and twisted, trying to grab him, as the strange feline/Terran hybrid with large mammaries tried to snatch him off the wall. The claw missed and the creature was still howling as it fell thirty stories to splatter on the pavement.

“They know we’re here! GO GO GO!” Bit.nek yelled, leaping up further.

The windows started exploding outward, dead Terrans, all of them Terran/animal hybrids with fur/scales/feathers of neon colors, flying out and trying to grab the troops climbing.

The ferrocrete five meters below Captain Vegeskit blew apart and a large Terran with thick pebbly hide and a horn in the middle of their face flew out among the rubble. It roared loudly as it plummeted fifty stories down.

–no no no no no no– Vergeskit’s mantid battle buddy, 683, said over the link.

To Captain Vergeskit is was a nightmare of windows and even ferrocrete slabs exploding outward under the charging force of a dead Terran.

He scrambled over the lip of the roof and saw everyone running for the far edge.

“Nine,” SGT Llremtil said, slapping the CO’s back as he ran after the squad.

Captain Vergeskit heard other numbers counting off then heard the sergeant yell “FULL ACCOUNT!” right as he got close to the edge.

It was a two hundred meter leap to the next building. His armor’s brainbox was painting the red line on his HUD of when to jump and how hard, his flight arc, including a full body rotation, and where he would land.

There was already splotches of red paint on the wall he was supposed to land on, and he would be landing in the middle.

He jumped at the edge, his stomach jumping up into his throat.

–shit shit shit shit– 683 said.

His armor somehow did a somersault in mid-air and he hit perfectly, his hand on the wall, both feet, and his grav anchor grabbing the wall at his hip.

Already the rest of the squad was scrambling up even as the XO and 1SG landed next to him. SGT Llremtil hit and immediately jumped up.

Captain Vergeskit was breathing heavy as he jumped up after.

Again, the sergeant did head count as everyone came over the lip of the roof, turning and running, stopping ten paces from the edge to wave everyone on.

“GO GO GO!” the sergeant yelled.

Captain Vergeskit ran by a door just as it flew open and a deader lunged out at him, missing, sprawling on the ground and struggling to get up.

He kept running and left it behind.

The trip back was a nightmare of ferrocrete exploding outward, or macroplas shattering, each time a deader plunged to its demise, splattering on the street below, trying to grab someone as it went by. The sprints across the roof were wild things, with troops jumping at the line in their HUD and trusting their armor and Bit.nek’s waypoints.

Captain Vergeskit noted that Bit.nek was ahead of everyone else, running, jumping, and climbing smoothly. Several times the PFC held still, watching as everyone made a particularly long or difficult jump. Once everyone had landed, he quickly and smoothly jumped up the side of the building, usually beating everyone over the edge.

Finally, Captain Vergeskit scrambled over the edge of the huge hab-complex sky-raker, his armpits hurting from where the pressure sleeve of his armor had chafed his skin.

He stopped and looked around.

There were lines of salt all around the building. Three of them, a pace apart. The roof was painted red, thick heavy paint that was gritty with salt crystals. Each doorway was covered by red plastic, welded shut, with a line of salt all the way around the roof access. The antenna had wired running up it, the dishes ripped off.

“Last one,” Sergeant Llremtil called out as Ilvrekit climbed over the edge.

Bit.nek came up, his faceplate transparent.

Captain Vergeskit could tell the Telkan Marine wasn’t even breathing hard.

“Good job, Ilverkrit,” Bit.nek said. He waved. “Take ten. Crack your faceplate, get yourself a couple pulls of air, then go sit down. Take some pulls of the tits and relax.”

The private just nodded.

Bit.nek turned to the NCO.

“That got hairy,” the sergeant said. “I didn’t believe it when you said they could crash through two feet of ferrocrete.”

“Startled the hell out of me the first time it happened,” Bit.nek said. The Telkan Marine looked over the city. “We got back. It’s a start.”

“What’s next?” SGT Llremtil asked.

Part of Captain Vergeskit felt like the NCO should be asking him.

“Accountability, have the CO see if he can contact Battalion, let them figure it out,” Bit.nek said. He turned away from staring at the city. “The sun will be rising soon. Fionna has a tendency to go torpid, but Mister Hungry warms up and moves around more.”

The PFC turned to Captain Vergeskit.

“They’ve got commo up. We’ve got enough drone rings out that we can reach Battalion now. They probably want to talk to you,” Bit.nek said.

The Telkan Marine turned and stared back at the city.

“What do you think is going to happen next?” Captain Vergeskit asked, still breathing a little heavy.

“Something stupid, I’m sure,” was all the private said.