First Contact - Chapter 983: The Shadows of Twilight

I saw more close combat as a staff officer or command officer than I ever saw as a lieutenant. – General of the Warsteel Tut’el, Telkan Marine Corps (ret)

The enlisted and more than a few NCO’s watched as Major Tut’el moved through the camp, dressed only in his ACU and hardback plates, his hands clenched behind his back, staring at everything from beneath the rim of his helmet. He seemed to know right what to check to find flaws.

But he never raised his voice, never seemed disappointed, never spoke harshly.

He merely corrected the defect, showing the enlisted or NCOIC what they had done wrong, how to correct it, how to keep it from happening next time, then moved on.

To be honest, his soft spoken attitude combined with his whispered about record gave more than a few of the enlisted and NCO’s the creeps.

That and the amber glow deep in his eyes.

“The manual says to forge up a Type-4416A ninety degree cable T-joint,” Major Tut’el was saying to three electronic warfare soldiers. He tapped it. “But, if you look at the impedance levels you’ll see that the right junction has a higher impedance level than the left, when you want both to have the same impedance. That’s why you’re getting signal degradation across the analog system to the phased radar array. Use a Bravo of the same series.”

The NCO, a Sergeant First Class, merely nodded, jotting down notes in his notebook, which was another thing the members of HHC had started using. A simple black ink pen and a green cover notebook. All five green mantids present were all busy taking notes.

The Major stood up, dusting off his hands, which were protected by fingerless leather gloves. “Any other problems, Sergeant, feel free to inquire with me and I will help if I can.”

One of the greenies flashed a quick set of emojis and Tut’el shook his head. “No, I don’t think it was ever sent up to TRADOC, it was just SOP out in the Atrekna Zone. Everyone did it.”

More emojis.

“Feel free to write it up and slap your work crew’s name on it,” Tut’el said. He turned and looked over to where someone was yelling for him by the TOC. “If you’ll excuse me, gentlemen.”

The group nodded as Tut’el walked away, moving over to the Corporal calling out for him.

“I’m right here,” Tut’el said from behind hm.

The Corporal jumped, turning around. “Uh, Colonel Ssalressk sent me to look for you, sir. You weren’t responding to comlink requests.”

“I have it turned off, Corporal,” Tut’el said. He looked around. “Too much EM scatter.”

“Oh,” the Corporal turned and gestured at the TOC. “If you would, sir.”

Tut’el just nodded, moving into the TOC.

The Colonel stood by a holotank that showed the city in red and silver.

“Ah, there you are Major,” the Colonel said. He waved Tut’el over. “Ninth Air Cavalry is pulling Kilo and Hotel Companies out of Tuffy City.”

“How bad are the casualties?” Tut’el asked.

Ssalressk shook his head. “Hotel Company got pinned by a large group of deaders. They lost nearly sixty percent. Kilo Company only took sixteen percent.”

Tut’el nodded. “Could happen to anyone,” he said, unwilling to criticize the men on the ground without knowing the full story.

“Brigade and Regiment are telling me to roll Hotel into Kilo for right now, since Hotel lost all of their officers and senior NCO’s,” the Colonel said.

“Might be best,” Tut’el said.

“A small question for you, Major,” the Colonel asked.

“Of course, sir,” Tut’el said.

He tapped the icon of a single striker lagging behind the others, moving in an erratic pattern. “The pilot of this craft was requested to move to the various armor beacons for downed troops,” the Colonel said. “Ninth Air Cav is wondering if your man is trying to reclaim the bodies of the dead.”

Tut’el squinted at it. “Those bodies were left behind?” he asked.

“Indeed,” the Colonel said.

Tut’el nodded. “I know what he’s doing, and he’s not risking that striker for dead bodies.”

“Oh?” the Colonel asked.

“You’re used to armor being totally destroyed,” Tut’el said, putting his hands behind his back. “I know exactly what he’s doing.”

“What’s that?” the Colonel asked.

—–

Bit.nek popped the hump on the back of the armor and the kinetic gel held its shape for a second before suddenly going liquid. The little green mantid in his armor stood up, shaking the gel off his rifle.

–thanks– the mantid said.

“Not a problem, buddy,” Bit.nek said, moving over to the next body. “Stay quiet.”

The striker was overhead, above the roof of the skyraker that Bit.nek was out in front of. The air was full of high concentrate thermal and scent masking smoke that Bit.nek could see well enough through.

He tore the faceplate away.

The kobold snarled at him, snapping its jaws.

A single enhanced punch crushed the skull.

Bit.nek flipped the body over and saw there were deep gouges in the protective shell but the shell wasn’t breached. He tapped on it.

one two three one two three

four back.

He wrenched it open and waited for the green mantid to stand up, checking his microrifle.

–thank you– the mantid said.

“Not going to leave you out here,” Bit.nek said. He pointed at the side of the skyraker. “We’ll go up in a second. Extract’s on the roof.”

–roger roger–

Bit.nek finished getting the last two out, let them climb onto him, and started leaping up the wall, quickly ascending the skyraker and bounding across the roof, landing smoothly on the striker.

“One more target,” the Crew Chief called out. He pointed at one of the larger buildings, one that was nearly two kilometers high. “We’ve got about thirty transponders there.”

Bit.nek nodded, making sure the green battle buddies were strapped into the webbing.

–thanks– one said.

“No charge,” Bit.nek said.

–you save all of us not forget– 299 said over the link.

“You’re not disposable,” Bit.nek said. “You’re a soldier, same as I’m a Marine. I’m not leaving you guys behind just because some people forgot you aren’t equipment.”

–thank you won’t forget this– 299 said.

Bit.nek stood up and moved over next to the M318 door gun, grabbing the ‘oh shit’ handle at the top of the striker’s bay door frame. He looked over the city, noting that there was fires here and there, with black smoke billowing up.

He didn’t bother wondering what had been caused by the atomic he’d cracked off.

Why ask why, it is what it is and I did what I did, he thought to himself.

He was silent, staring at the city, one hand on the ‘oh-shit’ bar, the other on the top of the door mounted M318, thinking about how many of the greenies or even any of the soldiers might still be alive. Thirty was a lot, and that they were on the top of a skyraker might mean…

“WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?” someone yelled, snapping Bit.nek out of his thoughts.

The grav-striker suddenly banked hard, dropping nose down, the graviton engines howling.

Something slammed into it hard enough that Bit.nek was almost thrown out. A massive tail wrapped around the striker in front of him and he saw a massive leg that terminated in scimitar-like claws kick down and rip away the port graviton engine.

Alarms were howling and something exploded.

There was a deep bass screech that he felt through his armor.

“TWO MORE INBOUND!” someone yelled.

The thing outside shifted, both rear feet and a massive tail appearing before a scaled belly dropped in front of Bit.nek. The scales were metallic, iridescent, and overlapping.

The grav-striker rolled and for a moment Bit.nek was weightless. A greenie floated by and he grabbed it with his off hand, snatching it before it flew out the door. The crew was yelling, the pilot yelling but Bit.nek couldn’t hear what they were yelling.

The greenie jumped to the webbing, pulling itself in as Bit.nek lost his balance, grabbing at the M318. He heard the forward guns on the striker fire, even though the striker was still dropping. It leveled out and the huge body slid down.

A claw raked the side, peeling the warsteel like tinfoil, and a massive head appeared. Long snout, huge mouth full of fangs, two baleful eyes that were glazed over with white cataracts.

–eeeeeeeee– 299 screamed.

The creature let go and the grav-striker suddenly twisted around, rolling toward the thing that had let go and dropped away.

The M318 twisted in his grasp and he felt something snap.

“Grav…” he started.

299 hit the grav-anchor.

The entire floorplate he was standing on peeled off.

He flew out the door, the M318 and half the pintle mount in his hands, the floor plate attached to his boots. He could see three other massive shapes, long bodies with huge wingspans, plummeting out of the cloud cover toward the striker. Another one was on top of the grav-striker, wrapping its tail around it and its head darted down to slam against the cockpit.

“GET OUT OF HERE, IDIOTS!” Bit.nek roared over his speakers.

He fired by eyeball, all six grenades firing from the launcher in one rippling TWOOMP-P-P-P!

Two missed, three hit the body, the high-explosive blowing huge chunks out of it, the fourth hit the warsteel skin of the grav-striker, leaving nothing more than scuffmark behind.

ALT: 1532.54m

He was dropping fast.

–no no no no no–

He triggered the grav-chute and felt it yank him straight up. He popped the grav-boots and let the plate fall as he lifted one foot up and kicked away the pintle mount, bringing the M318 up close.

A shadow went by and a massive impact hit him, making him groan.

–eeeeeeee–

Massive teeth were on either side of him and the cold purple tongue convulsed, trying to pull him deeper.

Bit.nek slammed his boots against the tongue, engaging his grav achor and twisting the spike. Blood and rotting tissue sprayed the inside the mouth.

The rocket from his shoulder launcher punctured the soft palate at the top of the mouth, vanishing into the tissue as Bit.nek felt it try to swallow him again. Bit.nek got his hand on the rear handle of the M318 and managed to push his thumb against the butterfly trigger.

The M318 was set for 600 rounds a minute, high velocity API.

They blew through the tissue, cavitation blowing huge bloody holes in the jaw, teeth shattering, rotted flesh and clotted blood exploding from the wound. Bit.nek held down the trigger as the heavy gun flailed around as he started to slide down the creature’s throat. His armor wailed as the pressure increased and he fired the weapon again, letting it flail around in his grip. The rounds just punched straight through, blowing huge holes the size of his fist.

The problem was, the neck itself was as wide as a truck.

There was another swallow and he felt himself sliding down the long throat, unable to get purchase. Any attempt with the grav anchor just ripped away rotted flesh, firing the M318 was doing nothing, and the alarms on his suit were wailing as it kept being compressed. His armor brushed something that made the heat alarms spike.

He could feel the massive creature moving as he slid down the throat. He hit something, hanging up, kicking for a second. The enhanced strength of his power armor ripped away flesh, doing little to give him purchase or stop him from sliding further down the throat.

There was no heartbeat, no rush of air, just the muscles contracting. No blood was flowing, just black clotted chunks and black liquid.

He got his free hand on something, something as thick as his leg, and grabbed it, pulling himself toward it. He felt the muscle contract around him, then he was out, pinned against a huge tube and some muscles.

–we live– 299 said.

“Yeah, we’re alive,” Bit.nek said. “This thing ain’t.”

–what is it– 299 asked.

Bit.nek shook his head, still unable to see.

“I have no clue.”