Josh Talley

 

The Grim Reapers - Tesca Campaign

 

                The SICON Interstellar Ship Churchill was in high orbit around Tesca Nemerosa by the time I woke up. The R&R was a very nice break from the ruddy deserts of Mars. I had hacked SICON’s informational database to get all the real intel on the planet. Seems like a great vacation spot: rolling blue oceans, lush jungle, and year round tropical temperatures. Perfect, except for the Bugs and the aggressive local fauna. No wonder it was the perfect place for the Bugs’ new strain. A group calling themselves Razak’s Roughnecks ran into a new Bug type - one that forcibly extracted the DNA from other creatures and changed the structure of new hatchlings. Made a wider, nastier variety of Bugs for us to deal with.

                I woke up and noticed, like every day of this ‘vacation,’ I was the last one in the bunks. I stood and stretched, flaunting our last day of R&R in front of the other grunts by walking around the ship in my boxers. Lucky for me it was Bronovich that saw me first. He looked down at me and shook his head. “Decker, get back to the bunks and change out. No one’s allowed to do that on ship, not even the LT. Get.”

                I chuckled, wandering back to the bunk. He was right but I just thought I’d try anyway. Finally in my standard issue jumpsuit I made my way to the mess hall. To conserve space on these interstellar ships they made the mess hall and the entertainment room the same place. After breakfast or the like they’d just fold the tables up, tuck them away, and viola! Rec room.

                Jess and Mike were in a heated dart game match, yelling about replacing the darts with combat knives and whether Mike’s last shot was on the line or in the red mark. David had set up his own workbench and was, to my horror, tearing apart the energy distribution manifold to his Marauder. David had the foresight to save me a plate of food and had it set aside on the bench. The COs didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight.

                Bronovich had looked like he was heading for the virtual reality training simulator when I had seen him in the hallway. Mara, I had seen more of, since that first night of R&R. She was a lot more open and, happily, her bubbly off-duty personality came back. Considering I had just woken up I didn’t have a clue where she was today. Marino was probably off in his own world planning our next dive into the great maw of battle.

                I walked over to David, running my fingers through my hair. David looked up, his hands covered in conductive gel. “Well, top of the morning to you, Rip Van. You know you’re missing out on R&R by sleeping through it.”

                “Yeah, yeah. What can I say, it’s the one thing I miss the most. Thanks for saving this for me.” I sat down before the plate of food and was just about to dive into it as a gel-coated hand reached out and blocked my view, hovering dangerously close to my breakfast.

                “Not yet, Hoss. You get the food as soon as you tell me one thing.” There was an evil smirk on his face, something that wasn’t good to see from him. I let out a sigh and looked at him, waiting for what was going to pop out.

                “You and Kenchiko,” he started and I just rolled my eyes, “have you enjoyed this break more than the rest of us? She’s seemed to really warm up to you.”

                “David, look, I know you got the hots for me but that’s no reason to be jealous,” I laughed, taking his wrist and moving his hand out of the way. “But the answer is no. We just had a good talk. Not my fault I’m the type people warm up to.”

                David slapped me on the back of the neck with a wet splat, coating my skin in light blue colloidal. “Good, because you’re all mine, baby,” he smirked. I knew he was going to roll with the punch. His face changed as he went back to working, becoming more serious. “Alright, so beside the hot and humid part you told me, what else can we expect on Tesca?”

                “Well, they have an interesting form of tree spider. A good size larger than a warrior Bug and a little bit nastier. Thankfully they’re solitary so we’ll never deal with more than one.” I took a mouthful of mashed potatoes and continued. “Their aquatic life is pretty vicious too. Seal-sharks and alligators that would probably have Sarge for lunch.”

                David was in the middle of torquing something when a laugh slipped out. “Better not have him hear that. He’ll want to find one just to prove you wrong.”

                I chuckled. “Yeah, no kidding. As Top already told you, the Bugs can change shape now, so to speak. Most likely we’ll encounter a Bug version of anything that seems nasty enough on Tesca. It’s going to be hot as a mother down there and… David?”

                He looked up, hands still deep in the large chunk of machinery. “Hm?”

                “What are you doing?”

                “Oh, just changing over the energy distributor to recycle the ambient heat.”

                “English, my friend.”

                “I’m trying to make it so the converter can change the caloric potential of Tesca’s huge sun and the hot air into a little bit of energy so I won’t kill it trying to run the air-conditioner.”

                “Oh, I see. More comfort for you while we get the hot suits.”

                He grinned, all teeth. “Pretty much. No sense I should suffer.”

                I just shook my head and continued eating. Jess and Mike had, indeed, changed to combat knives and were now arguing about the near misses and whether they should count considering the size of the object thrown.

                “Look, sugar, we’re using big combat knives now, not those cute little darts. I think a near miss should be counted.”

                “Sure, Boomer, just as soon as I get a handicap for you being nine inches taller than me.”

                “Aw, darling, don’t say that. Just because of your stature doesn’t mean you can’t throw as well as me… just have to aim higher.”

                “Look, you want the near miss, fine, I get a handicap. Either that or we play normally, like I was saying.”

                The argument continued as I ate. Pretty soon, as funny as it was, I couldn’t take it anymore.

                “David, give me your sidearm.”

                “What? Why?”

                “Just do it.”

                He handed me the small pulse gun and I turned, flipping off the safety, and shot a hole a few inches above the center of the dartboard. The pulse of green energy cooked through the cork and melted the small mounting magnet beyond it, dropping the game board to the floor with a clunk. Both of the players turned on me.

                “There, problem solved. Draw your own target board,” I said, grinning.

                They both chuckled. “You know, sugar, you abuse your power and it’ll come back to haunt you.”

                “I’ll remember that. Right now these last bits of meatloaf are a little more important.” I turned back around after seeing Mike produce a black marker from the table and finished my meal. David slid the pulse gun back into his holster and dug his hands back into the machine. Last day, had to make the most of it.

                After finishing my meal I put the tray in the bin and wondered toward the training hall. I figured I could get a little practice in considering dense jungles were hell on a sniper. I stepped in to see Bronovich pulverizing target after virtual target with thrown punches and hard kicks. Guess he was getting to feel better. He wasn’t a martial artist, per say, but he was enough of a brawler to make it look like more then just improvised fighting. The trip out for him had been mostly in the regeneration tank healing a nasty gut wound he had gotten on Mars. Good to see he’d still be able to cover our butts.

                “Sargent.”

                Vlad lashed out with one last punch, making the target explode in a shower of phased particles and projected light. He turned, panting and sweating from his exercise. “Ah, Decker, nice to see you’re dressed properly,” his heavy Slavic accent was hard to get past but just added to his all around character, “what can I do for you?”

                “Sir, just hoping to use the range, sir.”

                He nodded, grabbing a small towel and wiping off his face. “Works for me, Decker. The Lieutenant informed me we’ll be shipping out by oh-five-thirty tomorrow so you better be sure you’re awake before that.”

                I hid my groan with a salute, “Sir, yes, sir.”

                He wandered out and I was left alone. I accessed the training protocols and brought up a little program called “Tesca Shooting Gallery.” It’s a lot like a normal shooting gallery, only the jungle is everywhere you’d expect it and the enemies keep getting closer. A real pain, as I had said. I pulled the pulse rifle off the back wall and walked into the VR chamber. I inhaled, held it as I checked over the rifle, rubbed the back of my neck, then realized I still had conductive gel on it. I let out the breath with a grumble and rotated my head around. “Computer. Initiate Program.”

                The room disappeared as it was replaced with the Tescan jungle. I could hear the familiar cry of the Bugs and braced the rifle. Well there went my vacation.

                 

*                                              *                                              *

                 

                Oh-five-hundred came a lot sooner then I had expected. Sooner, probably, because the chronometer had said oh-two-ten when the Lieutenant came bursting into the bunks. “Reapers! Rise it and suit up! We have an emergency situation planet side. Wake the hell up.”

                We were, quickly. Bronovich may have the volume and the accent that carries power, but Marino had the voice that demanded attention and obedience. We were up and at attention before he could finish pacing the ranks. I had a theory that Marino never slept. Early mornings like this just proved my point. Bronovich was hanging back as Marino walked back and forth. “Troops, it seems a large tropical stormed has just formed on top of the Zegema Beach Base and they’re taking a beating. They were hit with a monsoon just a few weeks earlier and repairs still haven’t been finished. We’ll be flying in there to assist in non-essential personal removal and the usual disaster response work. We drop as soon as you have your GIs on and load in. Since we will be moving equipment I recommend you suit up as well. See you on the carrier in ten.”

                Marino turned and was out the door as Bronovich stepped up. “Alright, Reapers, move it. We have civilians and wounded down there.” He moved out and so did we. Most people joined SICON because it was cool and because you got to kill Bugs. Some of us were intelligent to realize that it was a way to help people too, if the bureaucracy didn’t interfere. Most of us fit in the second category and were triple-s’d and outfitted in seven minutes. We slide into the carrier and locked down for flight. Everyone had this look on their face like they had been hit with cold water. We’d never been called for this sort of duty before but we’d be damned if we screwed it up.

                The carrier slid down on the guide rails as the air was sucked out of the docking bay. The main doors slid open and the ship was catapulted out into space. I leaned my head back and thought about the world below. Dense green jungle, blue ocean, tropical weather… and a storm that was sure to make most Florida hurricanes pale to gust levels. Seemed environments on planets other than Earth were always more hostile, no matter how nice it is on the surface.

                Ten minutes into the drop we started feeling the first buffets of the hard storm winds. I had never felt a carrier buck like that and we all started to get a little worried. Pluto, Talisto, Mars – they had little to no atmosphere and therefore no weather to complain about. Tesca was a living planet and it was shoving the fact right in our faces as we rode the wind down like a crazed surfer taking on a tidal wave. The pilot was not sounding good as he announced our status.

                “We’ve come in too far off course. The wind system is knocking us around pretty bad. Hang on to something.”

                What choice did we have? We sat in our launch tubes, locked in for the ride, and unable to move. If the ride was as bad as it seemed we would be safer than the pilot or his co-pilot. The drop armor that encased us automatically was made to stand up to atmospheric entry and could easily take a crash landing, if it would stay around us that long. The shaking continued and I thought I heard Mike throw up. DeFranco was great at jumping in suits and could take drops no problem but the constant shaking from the hard air was making all of us a little nauseous.

                “Sierra Company, hold tight. Visibility is down to nothing and there are precipitates in this storm that’s killing our LADAR. I remember the flight path, though, we should be -”

                The following events are what I can perceive from those I asked because I’m not really sure myself what happened. The pilot was cut off as the forward section ran into one of the towering mesas that are scattered along the coastline. The pilot and co-pilot were killed instantly, crushed and scattered to the horrific wind by the kinetic force. With the downward angle and the forward momentum the ship had flipped over, rotating on what was left of its nose. It stood on its tail long enough to crush it then was caught by the wind. The ship rolled on its side like a jack-knifed semi and all we could do was hold on and hope the drop suits held as the massive jungle was crushed under the weight of the carrier.

                Mid-roll I knew that most of us were quite sick and I, personally, just wanted to die and get it over with. As if hearing my silent wishes the ship decided then to iris open the port under my feet. The horrendous crashing noise of the ship blocked out any way I could have heard it. I found out soon enough, however, as the launch mechanism took over and blew me out of the ship. I had my eyes closed, my breath held, and my body tucked as tight as I could in that metal coffin. It seemed the wind had picked me up and was skipping me over the very top of the trees like a flat rock over water. I didn’t even know it had happened until two minutes later when the drop armor finally came to rest as it slammed into a tree. My suit is made to take falls and concussions but a tree is a tree, and they give for no one. I felt like my spine had snapped in two when the suit blew open and I fell to the jungle floor.

                I laid there for what seemed like hours. The radio, thankfully, wasn’t broken and I soon heard Corporal Kenchiko over the radio. The signal was real bad, must have been whatever was messing with the LADAR.

                “…ecker. Come in. Special…oshua Deck…you copy…aka, Hoss, wake…up! You there?”

                I moaned, not needing a shout in my ear, and responded. “Specialist Baka Decker, reporting for… ow… duty.”

                I could have sworn I heard a sigh of relief but it could have just been the wind that was still whipping around me.

                “Are you mobile…ker?”

                I tried to stand, it didn’t look too likely. My spine wasn’t broken, that would have killed me, but my legs weren’t too hot and I could have guessed at least a rib or five were. “Neg that. I’m not going anywhere.”

                “Alright, Gaijin. Act…transpon... Our mission…scrubbed…this point. I’m…gather everyone…up. Thankfully you…only one…launched, other…looking for everyone…next month. Stay put…chiko out.”

                “That’s hentai gai-” I stopped, feeling the creeping blackness of unconsciousness slipping up around me. “Ah, screw it.” I gave in, passing out as the wind rocked me in my sleep.

               

*                                              *                                              *

               

                “Alright, Gaijin. Activate your transponder. Our mission is scrubbed at this point. I’m trying to gather everyone else up. Thankfully you were the only one launched, otherwise we’d be looking for everyone else next month. Stay put. Kenchiko out.”

                The radio fell into static silence against Mara’s ear.

                “What’s the situation, Corporal?”

                “Well,” Kenchiko started, “he’s alive. However he’s hurt more than his voice puts on. He’s not mobile because he’s in great pain. Probably broke a few things. I’m surprised he’s alive to be honest.”

                The Lieutenant nodded. “Very well. We’ll get everyone else grouped up then head out towards his location. Is his transponder working?”

                Mara shook her head. “Negative, Lieutenant. That’s okay, I know where he is. Just let me lead, as usual.”

                “No problem there. Considering the comms are down save the short-ranged burst and our sensors are shot in this storm I’d be surprised if we could even pick up his distress transponder. Alright, Corporal, get a fix on his location while I get the rest of the group mobilized. We’ll be out of here soon.”

                She nodded this time, then stopped. “Um… Lieutenant?”

                “Yes, Corporal?”

                “Are any of us armed?”

                “Except for the pulse gun sidearms, I’d say no. SNAFU. Why?”

                “Because unless we bounce out of here and quick we’re going to be up to our necks in unwanted company.”

                The Lieutenant grumbled. “Get his position. We’ll be out of here in a beat.”

                Marino turned and left, walking towards Bronovich who was in the middle of pulling Jess and David out of the ships wreckage. Mike was walking towards them out of the treeline, he had been thrown the furthest from the crash due to his size but at least he was out of the twisted metal. Bronovich grabbed outcrops of metal and plasteel, bending them out of the way or breaking them and tossing them aside. The Lieutenant jumped up and reached into the hole Sargent Bronovich had made. He pulled the red-and-white form of David, picking him up and setting him down gently.

                “Private Wolenchowski, wake up.”

                No response. Marino tapped into his suit using a command cable and triggered a small leak of gas guaranteed to wake anyone up under David’s nose. He snapped to in an instant as the smelling salts hit him.

                “Oh hell! What… huh? Lieutenant?”

                Marino knocked him on the helmet. “Nice to see someone’s awake. Come on, soldier, on the bounce. We have very little time to move.”

                David stood up wearily and looked over. Vladimir had pulled enough metal away to get the large grey suit of Jess’ out of the cargo hold. He reached in and pulled her out one-handed, bracing himself with the other. Her smiling face could be seen through the blast shield of her suit. “Why, my darling dinosaur of a man, my knight in shining combat armor.”

                Vlad just set her back down on the ground. “Lieutenant says we’re off to round up Decker as soon as everyone’s together. You alright?”

                “So the dear went and blasted away to who knows where. Well I’m fine, Sargent. Let’s go find him and fix the base. I left all my cute anti-matter grenades back on the Churchill and I feel a little naked without them.”

                Bronovich lead her back to the growing group of battered Reapers and saluted to Marino. “Lieutenant, all Reapers accounted for and in mobile condition. Ready to move out.”

                “Excellent, Sargent. Kenchiko, lead the way.”

                Mara nodded and shot off in a direction in a hurry. The rest just followed behind her. They leaped in an angle, forward and away of their destination. On each jump the strong winds would pick up the unequipped suits and move them back down, back on track. This method allowed for a much faster rate of movement then the suits normally allowed. Each one of them had their small pulse gun out, just in case. Probably wouldn’t be too effective but at least it would do the trick in case they got into a little scrape. Just to check Bronovich turned mid-jump and looked back. A small swarm of Bugs was trying to trail them.

                “Lieutenant, we have company on our six.”

                “Roger that, Bronto. Take them out if you can. If not we’ll try to stop in the trees and let them pass us.”

                Bronovich came to the zenith of another jump and fired his pulse gun. The small green bolts of energy went about thirty feet before the particles in the storm dissipated the burst. “Looks like we’re stopping, Lieutenant. Energy weapons are useless in this storm.”

                “I guessed as much. Alright, I see a high patch of trees ahead. All units, advance to the tree rise and take posts. Hopefully the Bugs will pass us.”

                The squad voiced their agreement and moved forward. Marino and Kenchiko moved abreast in point followed by DeFranco, Wolenchowski, and Boomer, with Bronovich taking up the rear. The MIs continued through the jungle, dodging through the trees and weaving around the thick greenery. Finally alighting upon the high outcropping the group spread out in a circular pattern, crouching down on the thick tree branches and holding themselves steady.

                For several moments all anyone could hear was the constant whipping of the trees in the wind. Then came the Bugs’ call. The Reapers brought up their pulse guns, sweeping the inside of their circle.

                “Remember, Reapers. No one fires unless the Bugs see us. If everything goes well we can wait for them to pass and continue on our way.”

                A silent acknowledgement was all Lieutenant Marino needed. The Bugs crawled through underneath them, searching for them but not seeing them. A loud noise started crashing through the trees, drawing the attention of the group. The noise was a massive gale from the storm blowing in low over the jungle. Wolenchowski couldn’t grab the tree fast enough and was blown off by the strong winds.

                David screamed as he fell down onto the mass of Bugs below. Thankfully he landed smack on top of one, knocking it out, if not dead. “Wolenchowski! Dammit. Bronovich! Kenchiko! Grab him and bounce out.” Before Marino could finish the command the two officers were falling after Wolenchowski. “Boomer and DeFranco, lay down what little suppressing fire you can.”

                Bronovich and Kenchiko had David surrounded, with fists and blade sizzling through the air. Bronovich had broken one of the Bugs and was using it as a bat while Kenchiko continued trying to slice down those others that approached. Boomer and DeFranco, up in the safety of the trees, were pegging the closer Bugs with small arms fire. Most of the Bugs were shrugging off the light fire but a few were falling. It was quickly becoming an R-Double-S situation and Marino didn’t like it at all.

                “Troops, bounce out now. We are leaving at full speed and heading for base. Those of you who want, go look for Decker. No more than Kenchiko and one other. The rest of you, northbound. Bounce now!”

                The entire squad left as one, their jets burning them up into the air. “Lieutenant, I’m going after Decker myself. The rest of you follow Top.”

                “Corporal, I order you to take one person along as escort.”

                “Negative, sir. One person won’t attract any Bug attention. The rest of you need to get to base under cover.”

                The Lieutenant sighed, she was right.

                “Very well. You report status updates immediately if something is beyond green in any way. Company! Form up. We’re heading home as fast as we can.”

                The group split, the main force jumping their way toward the base that sat somewhere along the shoreline to the north. Kenchiko headed further inland, knowing exactly where Decker lay. He’d owe her big for this one if he lived through it.

              

*                                              *                                              *

              

                I always had a problem of never remembering my dreams. I’m sure I’d have them, waking up screaming or in a cold sweat or… nevermind. However I never could remember what they were about. Unconsciousness is no different. Black, dead black. My senses came back slowly as I opened an eye. My slightly blurred vision assured me that there were no Bugs around, just the incredibly strong wind. The second eye opened and a few blinks cleared it up.

                A glint of chrome peeked through the trees as I laid there, hoping my body would snap back together. No such luck as the chrome appeared again, darting in and out of the trees. Finally it came to rest right next to me with a subtle ‘thump’ of armored boots. Mara.

                “What took you?” I asked, wincing a little.

                “Sorry, Josh. We had a little run in with a group of Bug scouts. None of us are armed.”

                “Funny words from the slasher queen herself.”

                I actually saw her smile. I’ll be damned, a smile during a mission. Who knew?

                “Come on, Gojira. Up and at ‘em.”

                She leaned down and hefted me up. Good thing for the combat armor otherwise she’d have real trouble. I just grunted my disapproval of movement and stayed still. She turned and started running back toward what I guessed was base. I felt like passing out again might be a good idea.

                Over the hard push of the storm winds it was surprised we heard it. That familiar shriek of the Bug warrior. We both snapped our heads over to look in that direction. A group of them and they were barreling down on us pretty quick. She turned and started running away from the Bugs. All this shaking and rattling about was making my ribs feel even worse and I knew for a fact a leg had to be sprained. I looked over her shoulder and regretted it immediately. The Bugs had caught up very quickly and were almost upon us.

                “Uh, Samurai. Trouble. Hurry.”

                She didn’t quite listen, though. She did just the opposite. She stopped and turned around to face them. She did another thing I didn’t expect. She just stood there, waiting for them. She didn’t drop me, pull out her swords, and do her usual ginzu work that earned her that call sign. Pain usually leads one to panic very quickly.

                “Mara… Mara! Corporal Kenchiko?! Hello? Run! Go! Get away! Flee! What the hell are you doing?!”

                She continued to stand there, looking right into the black death that was boring down on us.

                “For the love of crap, run! Mara!”

                “Decker, shut up.”

                Her voice was cold as vacuum and just as emotionless. She was dead serious, more so then I had ever seen, and I was not going to argue. If we died I’d just make her family pay for my funeral.

                We didn’t die, though. I had no idea what happened but the Bugs just stopped. Five feet from tearing into the both of us and they just stopped. I was too dumbfounded to say anything. I laid there, in Kenchiko’s arms, staring at the most amazing thing I’d ever seen. The wind and rain didn’t seem to matter at this point. Time froze as I watched. The Bugs started moving again, moving away from us. They turned and scurried off as if they had better things to do. My jaw was dragging on the ground.

                Kenchiko turned as well and resumed our course back to base. Jogging and jumping between the trees in a straight path to the protected Zegema Beach. When I had finally regained my composure I decided to ask Mara what had happened.

                “Okay, what the hell was that all about?!”

                Cool, composed. Right. I was still in panic mode and my whole damn body hurt.

                “I told you already, Josh, I’m not a normal telepath. There’s other things I can do, hence why SpecOps would love to get their hands on me.”

                Startling realization and hindsight can lead one to feeling very stupid, very quickly. I would have to think about this but I didn’t have time. At the moment I was too busy passing out again.

             

                By the time we had gotten back to the Zegema Beach Base the storm had, for the most part, passed. All that was left was the overrun sandbag wall, the downed communication towers, and the foot of water slopping around the first floor. Seems like two MI groups had stayed behind to help with the evacuation and to keep power to the base. During the monsoon one of the apes was in the regeneration tank and his team had stayed behind to keep feeding his tank power. Understandable. Dumb bastard broke the glass, too, for some reason and now I was going to need to wait until they sent down a new one from the Churchill. This time around, though, they had two MI groups but the storm had been a hundred times worse.

                A blessing to us all, David was checking over all of us. Seemed I had gotten the brunt of it. Their drop suits had stayed intact throughout the entire crash and all they had was minor cuts and bruises. First thing Wolenchowski did was dose me heavily with painkillers. Made it a lot easier for me to breathe, that’s for sure. Everyone else was fine and dandy but I was sent to lay down in Medical until they shipped down a replacement regeneration tank.

                Lieutenant went over to talk to the other MI group’s Top. Guy by the name of Razak. I’d never heard of him except for the initial reports about our drop here on Tesca Nemerosa. Then again, he’d never heard of me so we were even. They were standing right outside so I was able to pick up the majority of the conversation. They were talking about the new strain of Bug and how to go about getting rid of them. Razak’s team, the Roughnecks, had found at least two new species of Bug developed from this strain: a seal-shark Bug and the spider Bug.

                I had figured as much after reading the initial biological surveys of the planet before our drop. Next were the alligators, I was sure of it. The trooper that had kicked out the tank was one Johnny Rico. He had been hearing the control Bugs digging underground for a few days and everyone else thought he was about ready for a Section Eight ‘reprogramming.’ Hence the broken tank. Lack of belief requires a need of proof.

                They continued on like this, talking about possible joint missions and the like. I started to fade out again. Probably just tired but the pain was seeping back a little as well. I finally fell back to sleep.

When I woke up I was floating in the green colloidal of the new regeneration tank. Wolenchowski told me that the ribs had been small fractures, nothing severe, and my hip and knee had just popped out of joint, making my healing time minimal.

                “Well, what’d I miss?”

                “Nothing much, Hoss, except your lazy ass got out of resupply and repair detail. Bugs tried a small assault, probably the same group we encountered when we ‘landed’ here, but we chewed them up real good.” He continued talking as he checked my status and adjusted a few things. “We have all of our equipment back and then some. LT doesn’t want any screw ups like Mars so we’ve got extra ammo and a few larger explosives. The MI team that was here, Razak’s Roughnecks, went in two weeks ago to do a Bug clean up and ended up nuking a nest.”

                Laughing with lungs full of healing gel is an interesting experience. Nukes in the small variety were common for taking out groups of plasma bugs. What Wolenchowski was talking about was an orbital airstrike by a SICON cruiser. Decent amounts of anti-matter lead to nuclear-like explosions without all the pesky radiation. “Good thing we don’t have any colonies here yet, huh?”

                “Don’t worry, come the end of the war I’m buying up as much beach side real estate as I can. Oh, and according to these readouts we’ll have you out by this evening. In the mean time I added that laser designator to your XSC-21. That means if we ever need an airstrike or a precision artillery barrage you’ll be the one to ‘paint’ the target.”

                “Great, at least I get my gun back. So how’s everyone else?”

                “Despite the storm, morale is actually good. Top and the Sargent are doing small hunts to keep busy. Turns out those spiders you were mentioning have surprisingly good meat. Don’t ask me whose idea it was to try eating a big arachnid, I don’t really want to know. DeFranco’s thrilled with the weather. Just as he likes it – sweltering hot. Boomer has been playing volleyball with some of the Fleet crew and a few members of Alpha Team. Kenchiko has been taking the late night guard duty shifts every day since we got here. We haven’t had a single night attack so I guess she just wants some light duty.”

                If only he knew the real reason why we didn’t have any night attacks he’d know Mara was straining herself to keep the Bugs away. I just nodded and floated there. Having someone to talk to while you’re in the tank helps immensely. Without it it’s almost like sensory deprivation. You’re in a large tank, suspended in a warm gel that’s worse than water because it doesn’t move much. You don’t even have air to breathe, just the same warm liquid.

                “So where’s Mara now?”

                He chuckled, running his hands over the tanks controls, “checking up on your girlfriend already?”

                “Dammit, David, I’m just wondering. Geeze.”

                “I know, Josh. I’m kidding with you,” he quit fiddling with the panel and walked towards the tank. “Probably sleeping. I’ve got to go run over the Marauder’s systems and make sure all the power conduits in the building are functioning. I’ll see you tonight just before we let you out, Decker.”

                “Thanks, David. See ya then.”

                David snapped a salute to me then headed off. A couple of the MedTechs were still hanging around, looking over charts and what-have-you. It was a boring day for all intensive purposes. David and the rest of the Reapers came back around 2100 hours, just before I was supposed to be let out of the tank. The MedTechs were finalizing the procedure as they waited. Boomer had a big towel in her arms and I couldn’t bear to think what the others had planned.

                They started draining the tank and I felt the first real movement from the gel. It began slurping out the bottom, draining into the recycler to be used the next time someone really screwed themselves up. The gel got down low enough that I had to stand on my own. I was a little leery but my hip and knee held out. As the gel drained my weight got heavier and I could feel the joints readjusting.

                The tank was finally empty and I stumbled out feeling much better. The rest of the crew got a sadistic look on their faces. Now I was worried. From all six of them I got a water balloon. I guess they wanted to get the gel off of me or something. Used tap water too because it was cold as ice. Now I was very much awake and nearly clean. They all were getting a good laugh as Boomer walked up and handed me the towel.

                “What, darling? You didn’t think you could get away without working just because of some silly little boo-boo?”

                “In this group? Of course not. Bunch of savages.”

                “Decker,” Marino spoke up after the laughing settled down.

                “Sir, yes, sir?”

                “I suggest you eat and get your gear inventoried and stowed. We have an op in the morning and you’re coming with us.”

                “Sir, yes, sir.”

                I groaned to myself, I wanted to get used to moving around before going out but life in the MI was never easy, no matter what the advertisements said. Boomer spoke up as the rest of the group started to scatter and go back to work.

                “Come on, honey,” she said in her usually sweet tone, “I’ll help you get to the mess hall. Get dressed first, though. I don’t think the rest of the base will be as thrilled as I am to see you in your shorts, dear.”

                I chuckled and went into one of the dressing rooms. I finished toweling off and getting the gel off and slipped into my jumpsuit. I walked back out and followed her around as she showed me around the base that I could only remember as a passing memory. Dinner tasted so good after that nutritional supplement crap that they feed you in the tank. Military food was still just as tasteless but a lot better than the wet cardboard flavor of the ‘nutritionally sound’ goop.

                Boomer finally left to go catch a last moonlit game of volleyball before the Fleet group and Alpha team were to dust off. I was left going over my equipment. Someone, probably Wolenchowski, had gotten around to repairing my armor and someone had given it a buff job. The black armor shined like liquid midnight. They had brought down plenty of ammo for the sniper rifle along with the rifle itself. Ah, ‘Ecstasy.’ Where would I be without my rifle? I went through the checklist.

                Pulse Rifle – check. Recoil muffler – check. Grenades – check. I continued through the list. As I figured everything was there. I finished around an hour after I had started and everyone was just getting back. Everyone but Kenchiko. Seemed she took the night shift again. That knowledge alone would probably let me sleep very soundly. Black out came and we all hit the sack. Sleep was a many blessed thing.

               

                Another early morning. I think that’s why I was decent as a normal grunt. I hated the early mornings so much I’d take it out on the Bugs. Of course the fact they were trying to wipe us out didn’t help either. Standing before our bunks as Sargent Bronovich looked over us wasn’t as bad as usual. For one, it was warm. None of those cold floors that were common on a spaceship.

                “Wake up, Reapers. LT will be here with the Op and I think you should seriously consider being awake.”

                Everyone was, for the most part, but the hot, humid air did something to one’s pep. Boomer, DeFranco, and Wolenchowski were awake, Kenchiko was dragging. I felt sorry for her. She had night guard duty and would be lucky if she got an hour of sleep last night. She turned and smiled at me like she heard that and then looked back at the pacing Vladimir.

                “I know, it’s hot. I prefer it cold myself,” Bronovich’s voice rumbled through the barracks, “reminds me of home. Here he comes.” We all straightened up as Lieutenant Marino came walking in.

                “Good morning, Reapers,” he said, glancing at a data pad in his hand, “time for an actual operation instead of this lousy guard and repair detail.”

                It was far too easy to grin at that. We all preferred combat to maintenance duty of one sort or another. It felt degrading. We were the experimental group, the special forces team, the bad asses. The MIs were supposed to handle this stuff, not us.

                “We’ve located another nest deep in the jungle. Unlike the lucky Roughnecks with their water entry, us Reapers will have to do it the hard way and perform a surface entry. You know the drill. We’re not going in for a wipe job. All we’re needed is to go in, grab a changeling Bug, and get out. Should be a simple op but you know how all those go. Prepare for the worst and arm yourselves to the teeth. No more Mars incidents.”

                David raised his hand at this point, “Sir?”

                “What is it, Private?”

                “Why are we bothering to capture one of those Bugs and not level the nest?”

                “Intel,” we all rolled our eyes at the mention of them, “has stated that a live Bug will be needed for research. Not leveling the nest is supposed to discourage the Bugs from attacking this base until we’re good and ready.”

                He glanced around at all of us. “Alright, POA. Boomer?”

                “Yo.”

                “You’re in for thumpers to close off attack vectors. If anything gets too close you are authorized by me, not Intel, to blow it to hell. DeFranco?”

                “Sir, yes, sir.”

                “Keep them at bay. It seems that the nests around here have special smaller worker Bugs to clear out and repair tunnels. Before Boomer tosses a thumper you are to throw in a thermite mine to protect the cave in from workers. Anything too close and you torch it. Wolenchowski?”

                “Yes, sir!” He was learning.

                “The tunnels here are also much larger than those on Mars and Talisto so you will be backing us all up with your Marauder. If these breeder Bugs have been making the nasty little things we think they are then we’ll need the extra firepower.”

                David was grinning from ear to ear. He preferred being in a walker to anything else. I think it was the machinery humming around him. He was just as attached to that as I was my rifle. Finally the Lieutenant called on me.

                “You’ll be covering us. You get to take your rifle with you but don’t make us need to pull you out of a wall again, okay?”

                I told you I’d never live it down. Everyone snickered a little.

                “That’s it, Reapers. Suit up and be on the bounce in twenty. We’ll be taking an APC and a land carrier to the site. Wolenchowski. Decker. You’re driving. See you outside.”

                With that the Cowboy turned and walked out. We were with him the allocated time later and in the APC. The APCs for Tesca were like oversized jeeps. They had a much wider wheelbase and a gunnery station on the right-hand side of the craft. They handled the jungle terrain well and were amphibious should the need arrive, which it did several times on our trip. The land carrier was just like an armored semi, only smaller in size and more powerful in application. It had two gunnery turrets and a cargo space large enough to fit a Marauder laying down.

                Due to the hot weather we were wearing lighter armor. It was our armor, just without the vacuum protection and the enclosing helmets. Almost like cheesecake with the way it exposed our arms and legs. Made the temperature much more bearable though. Since full helmets weren’t needed on an atmospheric planet we wore half-helmets, like those of the old Earth military before space flight. The blast shield was still there and would fold down at a moment’s notice.

                We reached the cavernous nest entrance and started unloading. After propping up David’s Marauder using the hydraulic lift on the carrier’s flatbed we started handing out ammo. Wolenchowski climbed right in and flipped on the Marauder. The windows fogged up almost instantly after he flipped a switch. The slowly became clear again and Wolenchowski looked a lot more awake.

                “Hey, Wolenchowski, what’d you do?”

                “Like I told you on the ship, Hoss. Air conditioning.”

                Bastard. He gets the nice, cool air and we suffer. Oh well. Everyone was equipped and ready to go in. I’ll restate – I hate nest raids.

               

                After about the third shot I figured out a way to brace myself and fire the sniper cannon without falling on my butt. The caves here certainly were different. Having no vacuum mask made the smell that much more noticeable. Hot, humid, Bug-infested caves made for a really nasty stench. That and every time DeFranco lit one up it would stink up the whole area. Going down the tunnel was a mess by all means.

                The Bugs continued pouring up towards us as we made our way down to the egg chamber. Big Boomer and Firefly were sealing every branching tunnel we could find, hoping that none would come out behind us and have our shorts for lunch. Bronovich and Kenchiko were laying down a good blanket of fire so the Lieutenant would have time to read the map and find our way through. Wolenchowski would throw in his two cents every time the rush became real serious, the twin chain guns blazing a flaming path of death through the swarm of Bugs, reducing the numbers to something more manageable by us.

                Every once in a while when a big spider Bug or, as I suspected, a gator Bug came thumping out of a tunnel towards us they’d clear a path. In vacuum I never realized how loud that rifle was. I’d take aim, change stance, brace the rifle against my shoulder and fire. The recoil would throw the gun up, making my vision dizzy for a moment as the HUD would switch from targeting mode to normal vision. The report from the rifle made my ears ring every time. Whatever I had fired at, though, would be blown all over the tunnel walls and out of our way. Didn’t help the smell any, though.

                Marino threw up a fist, indicating that we should stop. We all hunkerd down and Wolenchowski shut off his exterior lights. We were plunged into darkness. The Lieutenant was quiet as a mouse as he talked to us.

                “Reapers, we’re almost on the eggs. I want only Hoss to go in there, if possible, and secure a changeling. If there’s too much guarding the area then you,” he pointed to me, “are to report back and have us march in. Grapnel it and drag it out here if you can. The rest of you, find places along the walls and secure this tunnel.”

                We all nodded silently as he walked up to the large Marauder. We started taking positions along the wall as I watched the digital outline of the LT signaling to Wolenchowski. In case comms ever go out we’re required to learn MI sign language. It helps to know you can still talk to your squad mate even if you can’t hear them. The Lieutenant was telling him to stay put, cover the area, and keep his lights off. He turned to me and nodded. I strapped on my sniper rifle, pulled off my pulse rifle, and loaded a drill-grapnel into it. The Bug may be needed alive but no one said anything about uninjured.

                The egg chamber was nauseating. The smell was the unbearable combination of an abattoir, a funeral home, and a pile of gym socks. What didn’t help was the macabre scene of piles of local fauna, drained of their juiced and stacked like cord wood. The changeling Bugs were like oversized fleas in shape, about the size of a micro-bus, the sickly white of any nest-based Bug in these hives, and rigged with shiny black armor plates.

                Yet again I was thrilled my suit made me invisible to these creatures. Last thing I needed was the two warrior Bugs to turn and chew me up. After noticing those two I saw at least six more. Time to call in reinforcements. Just as I was about to tap my radio one of the spider Bug hybrids looked at me and screeched. During the nest infiltration I had never figured they could see differently because there were so many of us it just didn’t occur. Now I knew and it scared me. I slammed the radio as I backpedaled.

                “Cowboy, this is Hoss. Need support ASAP. Presence detected and I’m outnumbered. Help!”

                “Move, Reapers,” I heard him say. Another snuffed mission. I was almost out of the chamber when Bronto and Samurai jumped in and started hosing down everything they could confirm as a threat. DeFranco and Boomer came in next, tearing the entire place a new one. I took the moment to fire the grapnel straight into the back of a changeling Bug. The drill bit in and slammed in to the hilt. I began hauling myself out of there, dragging this massive Bug behind me. The suits still boosted our natural strength but it was a chore dragging that Bug. I ran up toward Wolenchowski and tethered the cable to one of his external connection slots.

                “Package secure,” I radioed.

                “Move out, Reapers,” Marino replied, “mission complete.”

                Wolenchowski began moving out toward the exit when his shaky voice popped up over the radios.

                “LT, we got a problem.”

                I ducked under the Marauder’s legs and looked out where his external lights lit up the tunnel and gulped.

                “Report, Private.”

                “Bugs, sir,” he said.

                “Lots of them,” I added. I braced myself and fired down the tunnel. The large shell plowed a path threw the mob of Bugs, causing a line of exploding exoskeletons until the depleted-uranium cone embedded itself into the tunnel wall. At the loud noise Wolenchowski jumped in his pilot seat and slammed on the trigger. His chain guns spit out fifty rounds a second as he swept from side to side. The lithe build of the Bugs allowed them to repel the mower-like effect of the guns and continue getting closer.

                I was in the middle of reloading when Firefly and Big Boomer came down next to me, both of them opening fire. DeFranco was hosing down the closer Bugs with his flame cannon, lighting up the tunnel with the burning corpses of the Bugs. We had to snap in our rebreathers as the air got thick with choking smoke. Boomer realized that full-auto grenades would cause the tunnel to cave in and had switched to a pulse rifle. She was still adding a good share of grenades through the undercarriage launcher.

                The entire Reaper group had taken positions around Wolenchowski’s Marauder, firing around him into the ensuing wall of Bugs. The continuous fire had them at a stand still but we were trapped. They weren’t moving back and we had nowhere to go. Only a matter of time before they would over run us, or we’d run out of ammo, and that would be all she wrote. The end of the Grim Reapers in a damn Bug tunnel.

                “LT,” DeFranco shouted as his flamer ran out of fuel, “what’re we going to do?”

                A damn good question. We would mow down the Bugs as much as they could come after us but we would run out of ammo and, unlike Bronto and Samurai, we could not hold our own against a Bug without guns. Marino was behind the legs of Wolenchowski’s Marauder as he was reading over a DigiScan map.

                “Boomer,” he called out, looking around wildly, “you have any concussion grenades or drill bombs left?”

                “Negative, sugar,” she said, hosing down more bugs as she did the complicated maneuver of reloading a pulse rifle with one hand.

                “We need to get through that,” he pointed to a section of the tunnel, “wall without bringing this place down on us.”

                I had never thought that I would be so happy to see Bronovich drop a pulse rifle. His thick Russian accent made his words that much more serious as he spoke.

                “If you will allow me, Lieutenant.”

                He backhanded a bug that had gotten too close, crushing its skull and sending it flying back to its dying brethren. He pulled his arms back, his hands clasping each other like a steel wrecking ball. He swung his entire body, like an Olympian at the hammer toss, and tore through the wall with a resounding crash.

                Beyond wasn’t an escape route or a flood of swamp water. It was an eon-old crevasse that had formed due to an earthquake. The crack ran on into the darkness but the inkling of light from above was all we needed. “Reapers, move out,” the Lieutenant shouted as he resumed firing on the mass of Bugs that pushed their way through the pile of corpses.

                We poured through. David, knowing it just wouldn’t make it, threw his Marauder into automatic, flipped a few more switches, and leapt out. The Marauder continued to fire its last precious bits of ammo, saving our skin as he ran into the tunnel. I was still dragging that oversized nurser bug with me when Bronto slammed into the wall above the hole, causing a slight rock slide, closing it off.

                “That should hold them,” DeFranco laughed as he fired his drill-grapnel high toward the slit of light above us. We were all trying to lift the massive bug up with us. The crawl up was slow and ponderous, sometimes having to blast bits of wall away to make it wide enough for our capture. About five minutes into the climb the entire ground shook, the covered entrance far below exploding open in a lick of flame.

                “Sorry,” Wolenchowski said, bouncing off the crevasse wall before finding footing, “I set the Marauder to self-destruct. Figured it was a write off.”

                “Good job,” Marino spoke, grunting his way up as it was his turn to lift the bug, “next time ask permission, but I’ll let it go today, Private.”

                That earned David a few points. That blast most likely caved in the Bug nest and killed hundreds of them if they were still coming after us. The daylight was getting wonderfully closer and we were rushing our way out. The last grapnel launch peaked over the edge and hit ground, dragging us up into the penetratingly hot rays of Tesca Prime. Taking footing we all hefted the undeserving insect out of the hole and glanced around.

                Marino was looking back at the datapad. “We’ve ended up on the other side of the hill. Bug tunnels must have taken us around more times then we wanted to count. Two klick march and we’ll be back to the vehicles.”

                Top was right. It was a short walk to the vehicles and rather uneventful. Wolenchowski’s blast seemed to have taken out the majority of their forces while Bronovich’s hole had made them think we were still underground. I guess it’s a good thing the Marauder was destroyed; I don’t think Wolenchowski would have put up with the changeling bug touching it in the back of the ground carrier. I don’t think I’ve ever plowed through a jungle faster than I did then with the APC. Zegema Beach was looking real good by the time we drove up, the reassuring durasteel gates locking behind us after we were inside.

               

                The next few days were frantic. Bug attacks were becoming more frequent and we were in need of constant supplies. The weather had calmed down to what could be described as perfect but it was no time to enjoy it. Any waking minute I had was placed on the walls of Zegema Base, scanning for incoming Bugs and sniping the larger ones.

                Boomer was having the time of her life right next to me. I’d spot a group and she’d just haul up that launcher of hers, aim center mass, and fire one of those huge cluster rockets she enjoys so much. A trail of vapor and it would burst over the group, scattering a hundred bomblets. I swear she’d moan every time the shockwaves washed over us. I couldn’t pay much attention, though. I was too busy blowing holes through plasma bugs large enough to drive an APC through.

                DeFranco was rigging thermite mines and automatic flamers all around the base perimeter. Every time a group of Bugs set off one of the mines there would be a plume of white-hot liquid hell and the jungle would burn. Thanks to the natural condensation in the air and the saturation of the flora the fire wouldn’t spread. The Bugs burned real well though.

                I hadn’t seen or heard from Wolenchowski. He was gone, down in the basements with some of the Intel agents dissecting the breeder bug we had captured into hundreds of individually wrapped, neatly labeled pieces. Hopefully they were finding something out because the number of spider Bug swarms were increasing. The little bastardization of the native arachnids were worse than the normal warrior bugs. They were half the size and just as deadly, and a hundred times more in number. The Lieutenant, Sarge, and Corporal Kenchiko were trying to organize everything after Alpha Team left and we became the commanding unit.

                With the clear days the Fleet in orbit was able to observe the Bug movements and pin down their main nest. It was a massive valley a hundred or so klicks inland and to the south. The end of the valley ended in a multitude of caves that could only lead deep into where the Brain Bug and breeders that were converting all the poor creatures of this planet. An orbital strike was advised but seismic mapping showed the central caverns to be too far deep in the planet for the orbit-to-surface torpedoes. That could only mean one thing: more apes to the slaughter.

                SICON did do one intelligent thing - they sent reinforcements. Lots of it. We received at least a battalion of troops. Bravo, Victor, Zulu, Romeo, Oscar, November, Echo, and Foxtrot troops from the SIS Lafayette and the SIS Arthur Currie. We figured that would be enough. Zegema Beach grew double in size and we were even more heavily equipped.

                The Grim Reapers were finally relieved. After weeks of holding the base and fighting back what we could, we were given a day of R&R before the big push. We were taking the fight straight into the heart of the Bugs and it wasn’t going to be pretty. One day didn’t seem like enough. We were all worn ragged and down to a last nerve. DeFranco and I were in the mess hall playing a simple game of poker when a few troops from Echo Team came over. One by the name of Pvt. McColt started the whole mess.

                “Grim Reapers, huh? Looks like a pretty lax group.” This guy must have thought he was pretty tough stuff. In truth he probably was. He was six feet tall and ripped with muscle. However, he did the one thing that should not be done.

                “I mean look at this,” he set his hand down on Mike’s shoulder, “they even allow their kids to go on missions.”

                Mike was looking right at me and I just dropped my head, shaking it in pity for this McColt guy. DeFranco is the epitome of pyromaniac. He not only loves setting things on fire but he loves heat – and has a temper that can vaporize an iceburg. I’m not sure if McColt saw it coming but one minute him and his buddies were chuckling at their jokes and the next he was folded up like a lawn chair and gasping for air. DeFranco was up, edging him on further.

                “Kid, huh? Short jokes again,” Mike said, fists balled, “want to see how bad this little guy can beat you down?”

                McColt was in no position to say anything. Mike had slugged him hard enough to knock the wind out and, I bet, bruise a rib. The rest of the Echo Team were still in shock as Mike raised up to rabbit punch the Private. I had already stood up and walked around by this point. I grabbed his hands and started easing DeFranco back.

                “Whoa there, Firefly. Not worth it,” I said, holding the lit fuse known as Mike, “They’ll be eating out of our hands later. Just simmer down.”

                Mike gave McColt a look that could trigger a nuke and stormed off. No way I was getting into anything so I followed quickly behind him. Unfortunately that little outburst by Mike bought the whole squad the pleasure of creating the beachhead for Operation Firestorm. The plan was to get as deep into the valley as we could, leapfrogging firebases until we could advance no further. Having those in place would allow Oscar, November, Zulu, and Bravo teams to supply backup and consistent fire against the oncoming swarm as the rest of us drove into the caves. It was going to be a mess.

               

                The next day we were shipped out on Fleet carriers, all of us except Wolenchowski. Supposedly they were working on a weapon on the new strains of Bugs and they needed his help. Lucky stiff got to miss out on all the exciting action. Air support was able to clear out the majority of the plasma Bugs so the landing wasn’t too traumatic. LT gave us our running orders before we touched down.

                “Alright, Reapers, here’s the POA. Thanks to Defranco’s,” he shifted his eyes toward the five-foot pack of explosives, “correction of another soldier’s attitude we’ve been sent to do engineer work with Romeo and Foxtrot Team. It should work out smoothly besides the overwhelming mass of Bugs we’ll be up against. Since we lack ours, Romeo and Foxtrot will be in charge of the engineering. We get to do what we’re good at, kill Bugs. Because of the operation we are authorized to use any force necessary.

                “Boomer, dish out the artillery with Decker. You two will be up on the valley walls taking out whatever looks massive or more than ten in number. You two need to keep that tanks, plasmas, and whatever else may stomp us down off our back for at least six hours. After that the firebases should be established.

                “DeFranco and Bronovich, you’ll be in charge of the ground defense. You’ll like this: Foxtrot and Romeo’s MIs will be under your command. If you tell them to jump and they only hop then you are authorized to correct their attitudes. However, I want to make sure none of the warriors get close to our engineering teams.

                “Kenchiko, you’re will me. Nothing’s getting through, not while we’re on watch. I’ve had entirely too many missions go FUBAR on us. This one will go so smoothly, they’ll never send us out on grunt detail again. Reapers, on the bounce and by the numbers.”

                The carrier was silent for a moment. I closed my eyes, holding my breath as I pictured the valley below. The lush jungle, the hard canyon walls, the scattering of Bug caves. The launch doors irised below us.

                “Reapers,” Bronovich shouted, “prepare for drop! Deal the cards!”

                “Death, sir!” We all responded, “hoo-rah!”

                With the final call we were shot out of the carrier. Foxtrot and Romeo would be actually landed in carriers while we got the shot treatment. Nothing we weren’t used to. The valley stretched out below us with its high walls to either side. The greenery were coming up quick but we had a worse problem. First thing I heard Bronovich shouting about something then a burst of pulse rifle fire. I looked up and saw what he was shooting at. I unclipped my pulse rifle and joined in. The Bugs had finally stripped out the genetic material from the Reptar birds that scattered this world. Nothing dangerous but bug DNA in it forces on a whole new form. One that likes chewing on descending troops.

                Everyone had joined in at this point, the sky showered with green pulses of light. Kenchiko had a pulse rifle in one hand and one of her swords in the other, shooting down aerials and swatting them away. The close air support of the carriers was pulling its weight with their own chain guns, knocking the fanged birds out of the sky. The jungle enveloped us just as our jets kicked in and we were on the ground, out of the reach of those Bug birds. The ground held its own surprises.

                DeFranco lit up his flame cannon and immediately began torching the trees. The arachnid Bugs that were hiding in there fell like flaming crepe paper. Boomer grabbed me, “C’mon, sugar. Time to do our half of the dance.”

                I lit up my jets and burned up toward the edge of the valley. Jump jets are great for covering distances but the don’t help so well on the vertical side. Hitting the side we shot up out grapnels and shot up the canyon side as fast as the motor would move us. I flipped over the cliff edge and flattened myself to the ground. Setting up the recoil muffler and unhooking my XSC-21 was becoming second nature. Boomer was crouched next to me, opening an armory crate she had been carrying with her and unloading the heavy ordinance. If there was something bigger than a warrior it wasn’t going to last long.

                The jungle below was being systematically shredded as Romero and Foxtrot Team joined in with Marino and the rest. Their squads, larger than ours, had two Marauders each and were using them to their full destructive potential. Plasma rockets lit up the valley floor and burned the trees to ash. The fiery blue walls kept the Bugs at bay but not for long. I began scanning as Boomer fired cluster rockets at groups of warrior and arachnid Bugs.

                I moved my sight up and saw that there were at least three plasma Bugs getting into position on the upper lip of the valley wall behind the caves. They must have had a rear exit that we were going to shut down. Thank goodness Wolenchowski got the designator on the rifle.

                “Boomer!”

                “Yes, darling?”

                “What’s the biggest, messiest thing you have?”

                “Honey, it’s no time for that kind of talk. However, if it’s ordinance you want, I have a twenty-kiloton yield fuel-air rocket. Where you want it, darling?”

                She’s so sticky sweet it’s a wonder she ever joined the MI. “Right where I point.”

                I switched on the laser designator and took aim at what I could see. The middle plasma Bug was turning to fire into the valley, no doubt to hammer down on the engineers as they worked furiously to dig trenches and put up bunkers. I got the designator on its thorax and ‘painted’ it.

                “Right there, Boomer.”

                “Roger that, sugar.” She hefted up the largest rocket launcher I’ve ever seen her hold and crouched down on one knee. Thank goodness for her massive suit, the launcher looked like it weighed twice as much as the shapely girl inside the grey armor. The flicked a switch and I felt a rush of air as the compressed gas pushed the large missile out of the firing tube. At about a ten meter distance the missiles booster system lit up and blasted the projectile over the valley, shattering the sound barrier as it went. Just as it reached the lip of the valley wall the missile popped up in the air, cut its booster, and fell down onto the plasma Bug.

                The reaction chamber of the large plasma Bug was just opening, ready to fire, as the missile slammed down into it. There was a moment of nothing as everything went silent. Atomized fuel was sprayed into the air just before the explosive charge went off. The result was an explosion of atomic proportions that shook the entire valley. The plasma Bug had ruptured in the sun-bright air burst and carried the explosion that much further. The shockwave was visible as it rolled over the jungle. It slammed into us like a truck. Boomer was lifted slightly and ended up flat on her back. I expected a surprised scream or a shout of discomfort, instead I got a high-pitched, little girl giggle as she stumbled past me. I was just slammed deeper into the earth, my suit compensation for most of it.

                The radio clicked to life after the wave passed. “This is Lieutenant Bander of Foxtrot Team. What the hell was that?”

                Boomer was still giggling so I took it, “Sir, FAE, Lieutenant. We needed to shut down a group of plasma Bugs and close a cave entrance, sir.”

                “That would explain it. A warning next time would be helpful. We have an unconscious engineer thanks to that explosion.”

                “Sir, yes, sir.” I shut off the radio and turned to Boomer who was moving back over to my side, “feeling better, Jess?”

                “Darling, you have no idea.”

                I just chuckled and turned back to the valley, sweeping for larger targets. The explosion had acted much like a baseball bat would have to a hornet’s nest. It hurt them but they were swarming out in full force into the valley. This job would be hell and the heat only emphasized it.

               

                Ten hours into the operation and we still hadn’t been able to get inside the nests. Resupply convoys were running around the clock, dropping from the orbital fleet. The Bugs were dominated in the air. Ripplers and the Reptar Bugs were chewed up by Fleet’s Close-Air Support and the plasma Bugs exploded the second they reared their torsos out of the tunnels. The tanks were more numerous and hard to keep down but the warriors and spider Bugs just kept swarming out like water out of a fire hose.

                With how much we were firing I was surprised Boomer and myself didn’t run out of ammo. Air drops set crates of explosives, rockets, grenades, and XSC-21 ammo at thirty-minute intervals. Tesca Nemerosa was the Bugs’ food source, according to SICON, and it was going to fall. The Bugs had other plans.

                All eight companies had their hands full with the ground bugs. The valley floor had been wiped almost barren by the constant flow of pulse rifle, chain gun, grenade, and gigawatt laser fire. No matter how many we hosed down more kept coming out. It had gotten to the point where it was only the occasional tank bug and warrior, but there were always more spider Bugs and gator Bugs.

                The new strains were worse than the warriors were and much more numerous. Our casualties were growing and the battle was looking bleak. More reinforcements and supplies wouldn’t arrive for another two weeks yet and our ammo was running low. I only hoped the bugs were launching everything they had so when they finally did die there wouldn’t be anything left in the nest. We could only dream.

                Victor and November Teams had gotten completely eliminated. What was left of Foxtrot, Echo, and Bravo had meshed into a single unit and were holding down a forward firebase. The Reapers were fine. DeFranco was clearing paths between the firebases with firetraps and massive sprays from his duel flame cannons. Last I checked on Bronovich he was leading Oscar Team after their LT had gotten ganged on by five arachnid Bugs. Kenchiko was sitting behind Lieutenant Marino, limp as a rag doll. Marino seemed to not be overly concerned so I’m sure she was fine. Most likely in a trance, mentally fighting against the Bugs.

                Another few hours and Top called us down from the cliff side. Advancement had become a dream and the battle looked like it was lost. Boomer and I met up with DeFranco and we holed ourselves up in a forward trench. We had little left to do but poor on even more firepower. The warriors, if there were any left, had stayed inside the nest. All that was coming out now was the continuous flood of spider and gator Bugs. Even still, it wasn’t pretty. Ammo was depleted, there were no more shipments. I could sense the end.

                The radio burped for a moment, like someone tapping a mike to test it. Then silence. Then Wolenchowski’s voice on a broadband call.

                “Hang on, apes,” he called. I could make out the sounds of servos whining in the background. “Incoming special delivery. Strapped on those rebreathers, it’s gonna be messy.”

                I turned around and peeked over the side of the trench. A Marauder, probably Wolenchowski, was charging down the path between the firebases. A massive missile rack had been jury-rigged to the back of it. Like an armored angel he came through the smoke of the battle, twin chain guns blazing across the way. The massive black suit came to a halt at the edge of our trench.

                “Miss me?”

                I suddenly remembered to put on the mask just as the missile rack spewed out a full salvo of rockets. They hissed across the battlefield like flaming hawks and each headed for a different tunnel. They disappeared into the nest. I would’ve expected a massive explosion or an earthquake but all we got was distant ‘thumps.’ A disappoint to all of us, especially Boomer.

                Wolenchowski and the two Marauder suits that joined him fired another salvo, this time of plasma rockets, and coated the valley basin with a wall of blue flame. This gave us all a much-needed break to reassess forces and take stock of what little ammo we had left. It was bad. I’d hoped that whatever Wolenchowski did it was going to be good and save our skins. We all moved up, taking the most optimal positions we could find, and waited.

                The blue flame of plasma started to fade and the Bugs were finding holes in the firewall to come through us at. Following closely behind the Bugs was a fog of yellow smoke. It rushed out, over taking the Bugs, and flowed into the trenches and through the firing slits of the firebases. The Bugs kept moving towards us but something was noticeably wrong. The arachnid Bugs were falling apart. They’d lose a leg here and a leg there, then just stop moving entirely. The gator bugs weren’t able to even able to drag their own body weight. They were dying by the masses before we could even open fire on them. The warrior bugs kept coming but the new strains were stopped cold.

                The warrior population was so small that a single company could handle them. The rest rushed in to over take the Brain Bug. Zulu team, the only group with no casualties besides our own, lead the charge and dashed down the hole. The Reapers took the moment to catch up with Wolenchowski. He hopped down out of his Marauder with a huge grin on his face.

                “LT!” He said, looking to Marino, “we did it! I figured out how the breeders were converting the genetic material and formulated a toxin! In runs through their system like a virus and degrades their RNA’s integrity!”

                I’d never seen Wolenchowski so happy. He had been in his element. Construct and taking about all that was biological or mechanical. He noticed the empty stares we had for an explanation of more. I had a general idea but needed to hear more.

                “Oh, sorry,” he looked around at us, “what happened is I designed an airborne virus that clings to the raw genetic material that the breeder Bugs secrete and break it down. It’s like putting unleaded gasoline into a diesel engine. Same concept but the reaction destroys the unit. The Bugs, essential, just start falling apart.”

                He was still grins as he stood there, panting after his long-winded explanation. Marino just stepped up.

                “Good job, Private,” he said, clapping a hand down on his shoulder, “you may very well have saved us all.”

                The Reapers had done their job. The mop up was left to the MI apes and they were welcome to it. The Bugs now knew we could combat their genetic alterations and would be unlikely to use it again. If they did, all we’d need is another batch of David’s secret sauce.