The Autumn War Vol. 04: Succession

The team relayed their statuses to him, all of their pressure suits maintaining their seals. The gas was no danger to them right now, but an unseen tear or hole could be a death sentence.

"I can't see three goddamned feet in front of my face!" Hernandez complained.

"Rely on your HUD," Simmons replied.

Evan's systems were already catching up with the action, picking out his comrades with blue outlines, his onboard computer doing its best to map the terrain with its array of sensors. He was soon left with a strange, almost wireframe view of the bunker, the jagged rubble denoted with a glowing outline.

Jade and Aster moved up beside him, the three of them beginning to stalk around one of the heaps of dirt and resin, keeping their XMRs shouldered. Wherever the Bug was, it had to have thrown the grenade from the other side.

"That little fastball has to be around here somewhere," Evan muttered, his flashlight beam cutting through the yellow gas as he checked a shadowy recess.

There was a sudden burst of movement, a figure coming charging towards them through the haze, the toxic chemicals swirling around it like ink in water. Evan reacted too slowly, spinning around to aim his XMR at it, but it was approaching faster than he could turn. A Drone came into view, a jagged blade poised to strike, the glow from his flashlight reflecting off the array of lenses embedded in its helmet.

Aster darted between them, blocking the blade's wicked edge with her PDW, the chitin biting half an inch into its polymer housing. It drew a pistol from a recess in its thigh, a green glow illuminating the pair as the conductive rails charged.

Jade came in from the left, smashing the side of the Drone's helmet with the butt of her rifle, knocking it off-balance. It was sent tumbling into the rubble, the insect quickly scrabbling back to its feet, preparing another attack.

A crack rang out as Evan unloaded his shotgun into it, one, two, three shells tearing into its torso. Like shooting a piece of fruit with rock salt, the buckshot pocked its carapace with holes, tearing off fist-sized chunks of wet flesh. Its mucous-colored fluids splattered the debris behind it, the last shot taking off most of its head, sending its lifeless body toppling backwards.

"Thanks, guys," Evan panted, a wisp of smoke rising from the barrel of his underslung weapon.

Aster began to reply, but was interrupted as two more Drones came racing around the rubble, skidding on the dirt floor as they changed direction. One of them already had its resin rifle leveled and ready to fire, a burst of plasma bolts forcing the trio to scatter for cover.

The second Drone wielded a long blade like the first, leaping over a chunk of debris as it made a beeline for Jade, dropping into a crawl when it landed. The thing scrambled along the floor, using its five free limbs for more purchase, running like a cockroach. She fired her XMR, but its erratic movement caused her burst to miss, the trio of slugs splashing in the soil behind it.

It launched itself at her, dragging her to the ground, her flashlight beam swaying wildly. A single stab that penetrated her armor in this environment would be enough to let in the aerosolized toxins, potentially condemning her if her biology was different enough from theirs.

The Drone drove the blade towards her, and she jerked out of its path, its sharp point stabbing into the ground an inch from her midriff. The thing was frenzied, wild, all four of its arms moving frantically as the pair grappled.

Aster was closer, but the Drone with the rifle forced her into cover with another burst of plasma fire, the superheated bolts turning the resin to liquid where they impacted it. She popped up to fire back, the two locked in an exchange.

Evan rushed across open ground, trusting that Aster would keep him covered, his boots pounding on the compacted soil as he neared the two struggling insects. He gripped the barrel of his XMR, swinging it back like a golf club as he slid to a stop, the alien lifting its many-eyed head just in time to see the rifle butt coming towards it. He caught it in the face, feeling its carapace crack, the weight of the battery that was housed in the stock giving it more heft. Its mandibles shattered, one of the spider-like lenses on its helmet coming loose, dangling from a distinctly organic-looking cable. It reeled back, stunned, giving Jade the opening that she needed. She planted her three-toed feet on its carapace, kicking it off her, lifting it off the ground. It landed a few paces away, reaching up in an attempt to straighten its helmet as it struggled to right itself, but Jade had already leveled her weapon. A burst of fire from her PDW cut from its shoulder to its belly, almost severing one of its upper arms, the insect toppling back to the ground.

Evan took her hand and hauled her light frame to her feet, the pair moving to support Aster, who was still locked in an exchange of sporadic gunfire. She realized what they were doing, rising to lay down suppressive fire in full-auto, forcing her target into cover. Evan and Jade moved in, flanking around the block of resin where her opponent was hiding, cutting it down.

When the dust cleared, Evan heard another few bursts of XMR fire echo through the dome, suggesting that the rest of the squad hadn't escaped unscathed either. The red outline of a Drone appeared on his HUD somewhere on the other side of the bunker, then quickly vanished again as gunfire barked.

"Everyone alright?" Simmons asked. "Any casualties?"

"We're good!" Evan called back, slotting another shell into the rotating cylinder on his shotgun.

Everyone sounded off, the squad reuniting at the far door. Foster and Collins met them, the pair rushing inside with their XMRs drawn, lowering them when they realized that they'd missed the fight. The team joined up with Borzka and Tatzi outside, then continued on.

"We're making good progress," Simmons announced. "Looks like the first row of trenches has been completely cleared. Spotter drones show Bug forces building up in the second row, so get ready. It looks like they might try to charge across open ground. We have to keep our foothold here."

"Don't we have any reinforcements yet?" Garcia asked.

"No dropships are coming anywhere near this area until that AA Scuttler is dead and we've secured an LZ," Simmons replied. "The armor is on its way, but it's gonna take them a while to get around that tank trap. We're on our own for the time being."

"We should take up defensive positions," Jade suggested. "The first thing the Bugs will try to do is recapture these fortifications."

"I agree," Simmons replied, gesturing to the left wall of the trench. "Let's take up position here. Get ready to repel an attack."

Unlike the side of the trench that faced out onto the plain, there were no raised platforms to stand on here, no slots cut into the resin where defenders could shoot through in relative safety. Still, most of the team was tall enough that they could simply rest their rifles on the lip of the trench, looking out over the flat terrain beyond. Only the Jarilans had any difficulty, but they managed to lift themselves high enough to see over the top, gripping the uneven resin with their clawed toes and lower arms. It was a little bizarre, but it worked.

Evan could see the enemy massing in the nearest trench some two hundred meters away, the Bugs tagged by the airborne spotter drones. After a moment, a series of explosions rippled along the line, bright billows of flame tossing clods of earth into the air. Everyone ducked reflexively, Evan feeling a few stray pebbles bounce off his helmet.

"Our armor is still in range, so we can at least get a little fire support," Simmons explained.

"Looks like that pissed them off," Donovan warned, Evan watching a tide of red signatures pour onto the surface. "Get ready!"

A hail of plasma bolts shot above their heads, close enough that Evan could feel their heat, but it was random fire intended only to suppress. A swarm of Drones came into view through the smoke that had been kicked up by the explosions, firing their weapons wildly as they ran.

"Open fire!" Simmons ordered, the report of a dozen XMRs ringing out across the field.

Evan held down his trigger, spraying molten tungsten into the Drones. There were so many, packed so tightly together that it was impossible to miss. The coils on his barrel began to glow red as heat built up, scores of the aliens dropping under the barrage, the projectiles sawing off limbs and shattering carapace. The same was happening in other areas of the trench, Coalition squads from other vehicles and companies laying down a firestorm. Mortars erupted, grenades tossing up plumes of dirt, indirect fire from the vehicles cutting swathes through the enemy ranks. Yet still, they came, scrambling over the growing heaps of their dead with a suicidal fervor.

"Keep it up!" Collins yelled as he paused to reload, the air around his barrel shroud shimmering with the heat that it was giving off. Evan could see the glow of the coils reflected in his visor. "Their numbers are thinning!"

"Their charge is broken!" Borzka declared, his gravelly voice full of triumph.

Evan had to aim more carefully now, picking off a couple more Drones that were still making their way forward through the smoke. He heard a boom to his right, turning to see smoke rising from a friendly trench.

"Damn it!" Hernandez growled. "Looks like one of the critters got close enough to toss a grenade."

"Stay focused!" Simmons ordered. "It's not over yet!"

"Fuck me!" Foster added, gesturing frantically into the drifting dust that carpeted the field. "Warrior!"

The hulking mass of a Bug battlesuit came lumbering into view, preceded by the bright glow of the plasma canisters that were built into the cannon on one of its crab-like claws. The amalgam of flesh and metal turned its slatted visors on their position, picking up speed, its clawed feet tearing at the dirt. It waded through the piles of dead Drones, paying them no mind, crushing their shells underfoot.

The squad focused their fire on the thing, chipping away at its armor, but the living vehicle shrugged it off. Simmons called in fire support, a trail of grenades cutting across its path, obscuring it from view as they threw dust and soil into the air. The Warrior came marching out of the swirling smoke, not even slowing down, the dull glow of the red-hot shrapnel that pocked its armor slowly fading.

"We don't have anything that can dent that thing!" Brooks yelled.

"Retreat back to the bunker!" Simmons ordered, abandoning his place by the wall.

It was too late. The Warrior was within ten meters of them now - there was no way they could outrun the thing. It leveled its arm cannon, the dual barrels between its lobster-like claws emitting an ominous glow as it prepared to fire.

Another shape lumbered in from the right, running parallel to the trench. As it moved through the smoke, Evan realized that it was a second Warrior, despair overwhelming him. They couldn't fight off one of the things, never mind two. There was no red outline on his HUD, however. After a moment, he noticed the Coalition IFF tag floating above its head, his eyes widening.

Where the Bug Warrior was huge and hulking, this one was somewhat sleeker, more agile. It still neared the same ten-foot height, but it was less massive, covering ground swiftly on a pair of digitigrade legs that were comparatively longer than those of its counterpart. It was covered in the same layers of thick armor, the overlapping plates pocked with pits and dull spikes, reminiscent of deep-sea crabs. Its upper left arm was large and reinforced, sporting a similar canon as the one wielded by the enemy, plasma canisters and segmented cables jutting from its flesh, the barrels emerging from between a pair of massive claws. Below that was a much smaller arm that sported dexterous fingers, perhaps designed for manipulating objects.

There was only one large arm on its right side, this one terminating in a thick shield that exceeded those used by the Krell in size and weight. It was more rounded, segmented in places, curving to follow the shape of the suit's barrel-like torso. There were metal studs embedded in its surface, clearly visible against the orange camouflage, their purpose indeterminable at a glance.

The most striking differences were at the head and shoulders. Where its counterpart had a slatted visor that more resembled the headlights of a truck than eyes, along with a set of serrated mandibles, the newcomer's jaws were split open like a Roman helmet to expose an array of sensory equipment that ran down the length of its face. They were cameras, clearly technological in nature, giving the suit a distinctly robotic look. Mounted above one of its thick shoulder pads was a thirty-millimeter railgun that had clearly been sourced from a UNN vehicle, attached via a flexible gimbal, and sporting its own little camera suite. A belt of slugs trailed down from its blocky housing, disappearing into an ammo drum on the suit's back.

On that same shoulder pad were stenciled human letters and numbers. As it sprinted towards them, it came close enough that Evan could read them. Zero-zero-one-six. Sunny.

The enemy Warrior turned to look at it, seeming almost as surprised as Evan was, swinging its arm-cannon around to aim at the more threatening target. A stream of glowing plasma jetted forth, but its opponent raised its massive shield, electricity crackling between the metal studs on its surface. A wavering barrier formed, the shifting magnetic fields pumped with plasma, creating a secondary shield that was projected just above the first. The stream of superheated gas impacted it, the field dissipating it, collapsing moments later. Having lost most of its heat and energy, the plasma couldn't make it through the carapace, leaving a dark smear on its studded surface.

Sunny barreled into the Warrior, using its shield like a battering ram. The force of the impact was enough to knock it off-balance, a sound like two tanks colliding ringing out, the ground shaking beneath their feet. The Warrior brought its melee weapon into play - another enormous, snapping claw that looked like it could have sheared the cannon right off a Kodiak's turret.

Sunny caught the limb with the claw on the end of its plasma cannon, the two titans clashing, the heavier of the two monsters forcing the smaller one back. The railgun turret that was mounted on Sunny's shoulder came to life, pointing down to take aim at the Warrior, its bark echoing across the field as it began to fire. Thirty-mill slugs tore through the Warrior's abdomen at point-blank range, chewing holes in its carapace as large as Evan's head, exposing glistening meat and broken machinery beneath. Still grappling with its foe, there was nothing the Warrior could do to get clear, the railgun excavating more of its armor with each shot until it breached the Pilot's compartment.

When the operator was dead, and enough of the suit's systems had been destroyed to disable it, the newcomer tossed the limp body aside to send it crashing to the dirt. Evan felt a pang of apprehension as the ichor-splattered suit turned to face them, the coils on its railgun barrel still glowing.

The armored panels on its torso began to split down the middle as though it was being bisected by an invisible blade, opening up like a clamshell. The two halves remained joined by drooping ropes of thick slime, the shadowy interior lined with wet, living flesh. The cavity was filled with what looked like glistening entrails or maybe tentacles, similar to what he had seen inside the Red King's suit. They were coiled tightly around a figure, keeping it firmly secured inside, shifting and moving in a way that made Evan's skin crawl. They parted to reveal a face and most of an upper torso, the expressive eyes of a Jarilan peering out at the rattled Marines, her carapace a striking lemon-yellow color that contrasted with the pink tendrils that surrounded her.

"Follow me across!" she shouted. "I'll cover you!"

Simmons hesitated for a moment, then waved for them to advance, the squad climbing out of the trench and onto open ground. The Jarilan Warrior's torso closed up again, the Pilot turning the hulking suit to face the enemy, raising her shield as the team formed a column behind her.

They advanced across the blasted no man's land between the trenches, using the Warrior for cover in the same way that they would have used their IFV, hopping over the numerous deceased Drones that littered the landscape. Sunny kept her shield raised, dozens of plasma bolts from the Bugs that had remained in the next trench over impacting its armored surface, the thick carapace shrugging them off like raindrops. To his left and right, Evan could see other squads moving through the smoke, supported by more lumbering Jarilan Warriors.

The rifles and pistols wielded by the Drone footsoldiers had no chance of harming the battlesuits, the Jarilans wading into their distant cousins without resistance, filling the trench with plasma fire and tungsten. Sunny dropped down into the nearest trench, partially collapsing the near wall under the weight of her suit, squashing a nearby Drone like a fly with a casual swipe of her shield. Her railgun was firing all the while, seeming to seek out targets independently, the usually vehicle-mounted weapon conveying enough kinetic energy to dismember its targets where they stood. She leveled her main weapon arm, a stream of plasma pouring from the dual barrels almost like a liquid, the glowing substance filling the trench like molten metal pouring into a mold.

The Drones that were caught in its path had nowhere to escape to, the very walls of their earthworks boxing them in. Evan could hear the gas escaping from their carapaces with an audible hiss as they cooked, their shells melting like plastic in a microwave, their struggling quickly ceasing. By the time the squad actually made it inside the trench, everything was already dead.

"Well, that simplifies things," Brooks muttered as he eyed a Drone that had been turned to charcoal.

They fanned out to secure the area, soon confirming that the last of the defenders were dead. After a few more sporadic gunfights that echoed from somewhere further down the line, there was silence.

"The second trench has been secured," Simmons announced after a couple of tense minutes, holding one finger to his helmet as he tapped into the battalion's radio channel. "They just sounded the all-clear. That's it, people. It's just one last push to the Ant Hill."

"What do we do now?" Garcia asked.

"New orders are to stick around until someone takes out that AA Scuttler so the airborne troops can land," Simmons replied. "Once they've established a foothold and the armor catches up, we're moving in with the rest of the battalion for the final assault. I guess just take five for the moment."

The squad relaxed a little, taking the opportunity to drink from canteens and reload their weapons. Evan leaned against the far wall to take a load off, eyeing the idle Warrior warily. As much as he appreciated the help it had provided, every Marine had developed an instinctual fear of the things that was difficult to shake.

"Do we get to keep that?" Hernandez asked, gesturing to the suit.

"The name's Sunny, and yes, you get to keep me," the Pilot chuckled. "Our orders are to provide support to Coalition troops, so I'll stick around until someone tells me otherwise."

Her voice was coming through clear inside Evan's helmet now. It seemed that she had patched into the squad's ad-hoc network. It was so jarring to hear such a mundane, feminine voice coming from the hulking suit, its carapace still splattered with dripping ichor.