[right][sub]Zeta-5, underground tunnel complex[/sub][/right] Andrew was tired. No, that was an understatement. He was exhausted. Hmm, still not good enough. What is more than exhaustion? There seemed to be no right word to describe how he felt. It seemed like it had been days since they entered this underground hell, while in fact, it had only been a little over 13 hours, at least according to the time tracker on his suit. His beautiful combat suit, carefully cleaned and oiled, with red and black stripes meticulously painted over his shoulder and helmet. He spent hours making sure that it was perfect and looked just like the suits of the squad veterans. Andrew was a rare sight on Zeta-5 - he was a newbie, assigned to a squad after they lost a member. His squad, the Sabercats, was just transferred to the front when the recall order came. So while technically he had a combat deployment note on his military record, he had never been in actual combat, never met an enemy, and never fired his gun to kill someone. Now he was the last remaining Sabercat. His Sergeant pushed him out of the way when Zetans with flamethrowers appeared, getting caught in the flames himself. Now he was dead (Andrew tried very hard to forget just how exactly he died, but he suspected that the man’s screams will be engraved into his brain forever.) and Andrew’s beautiful suit artwork was either scorched or covered in blood. Surprisingly not his own. He was not a military strategist, he didn’t know how the battle was going or was supposed to be going when the Sabercats joined in. From what he saw, there was a long wide tunnel, the Undefeated were on one side, the Zetans on another, all taking good cover and occasionally exchanging a few shots. To Andrew, it seemed like a really boring kind of fight, no heroic action in sight. Whether the squad leaders shared his perspective or had other more tactical reasons, they decided they needed to push forward. And Andrew would soon start to miss the ‘boring’ fight. Grenades flew there and back, deafening explosions pushed him around and felt powerful even through the exoskeleton dampening. Andrew just tightly grabbed his rifle and followed the man in front of him, running from cover to cover. It felt just like in training, only the bullets here weren’t filled with paint. Andrew didn’t fully realize what was happening until the guy he had been following stumbled and fell. The young soldier jumped to him and tried to grab his arm to help him up, only to realize there were several holes in the man's helmet and now it was filled with a disgusting mixture of blood, brains, and bone fragments. Dead. Andrew stood there in the middle of the tunnel, staring at the dead body. The helmet had stripes just like his, he was someone from Andrew’s new squad. With his face missing, it was really hard to tell who. Ding. Something slightly nudged his shoulder. He looked there to see a small dent in one of the red stripes. Was someone actually shooting at him? Months and years of training kicked in. [i]‘Get your fat asses to the ground or lose them!’[/i] Andrew threw himself on the ground, more bullets whizzing through the air where his head was just seconds ago. [i]‘Take cover or take a bullet!’[/i] This was usually followed by a burst that caught the slower trainees, covering them with paint splashes from head to toe, leaving large bruises in the most painful places. The loud jingling the bullets made when hitting the metallic exosuits was much scarier. Andrew slid to cover, breathing heavily, somehow managing not to lose his rifle in all the mess. “Ey, kid! How about you shoot ‘em back?” That was his Sergeant, taking cover a few meters away. But shoot who? It was dark and smokey and the bullets were flying around, seemingly on their own. Thinking of it, it was even hard to tell in which direction he should be shooting. Andrew panicked. What was he supposed to do? He glanced back at the Sergeant, who knocked at his helmet. Right! Oh dear god, how stupid he was. He never even activated the enhanced combat mode HUD. He felt like it was too distracting just for walking around. His world suddenly got much more concrete. The suit marked some of the figures in the smoke as friendlies, drawing their rough shapes in bright green. It even compensated for the lower visibility by highlighting the walls, ceiling, and the items in the tunnel with thin lines, making his vision a bit cartoonish. And there in the back, a few red lines appeared. It looked almost like a stick figure - first, a small red circle peeked out from behind one of the crates, seconds later joined by a single-line body and two arms. One arm swung back and forth and the stick figure disappeared behind the cover again. A small flying dot appeared at his position, moving across Andrew’s field of vision fast, blinking vividly. He realized it was a grenade just a second before it hit the ground on the left, sending several green people flying through the air. He felt like his brain had only been working at half a capacity. This was all part of the training and he seemed to have forgotten it all. The red head peeked out again, from a different spot this time. Andrew’s hands seemed to be acting independently, and while he was still contemplating how stupid he was, his rifle went up. He aimed for the red head, and just as the enemy was about to throw another grenade, a shot came out. The stick figure disappeared and moments later a huge explosion destroyed his position. A few other red marks ran away from that spot, all quickly taken down by the Undefeated. “Nice shot, kid!” The Sergeant yelled at him, giving him a thumbs up. Andrew just nodded. Did he just kill someone? It felt so easy, just pulling the trigger, BAM! and a red figure gone. Should he feel something for the person he just killed? It was a human - the Zetans had run out of warforms in this sector’s defense some time ago. Another red Zetan leaned out of cover, and Andrew shot in his direction. He missed, but it solved his dilemma. [i]‘Green is good, red is bad. Overthink it, and you’re dead.’[/i] His drill sergeant was a funny fellow. The Zetans gave their positions too easily, Andrew remembered as he marched through a dark tunnel hours later. That should have warned us. A few grenades and they were either dead or gone, disappearing in cracks and vents like cockroaches. The Undefeated moved forward, taking over the Zetan barricade while only losing a couple of men. They took a moment to catch their breath and take care of the wounded, not expecting another attack just seconds later. And they would never expect that [i]kind[/i] of attack. Several valves on the ceiling opened, spraying the men below with unknown liquid. Andrew and many others were standing on the side, avoiding the odd shower, but many men got hit. At first, it seemed like a hydraulics malfunction - the liquid was thick and sticky but didn’t seem dangerous in any way, it wasn’t hot or corrosive or something similar. As the soldiers stood there, looking at each other, wondering what the hell was that supposed to be, the barricade exploded. The bomb was filled with screws and nails and other sharp metallic objects that went flying in every direction, chopping those unfortunate enough to stand too close into pieces. Not even the suit could protect them from such a force. The worst part was that even though the liquid wasn’t dangerous on its own, it was extremely flammable. The explosion lit it up and turned the tunnel into a true inferno. The blastwave knocked Andrew against the wall, and before he had time to gather himself up, the fire raged all around him. Desperately clinging to the wall, trying not to slide into the flaming pools, he looked around. The HUD was flashing with warnings, sensors unable to compensate for sudden heat and brightness. The audio transmission however worked a bit too well, transferring all the screams from the fiery inferno. Several shots came from the fire and the screaming ended abruptly. The Sabercat Sergeant stepped out of flames with a rifle in his hands, finger still on the trigger. He pushed Andrew towards the fire and yelled at him to jump. Andrew ran and jumped over the flaming puddles, his legs licked by hungry flames until he finally reached an opening. Other soldiers were arriving as well, their suits smoked and scorched, but rifles ready in their hands. Before they even had time to look around, the tunnel suddenly filled with more fire, this time it was concentrated in long jets, aimed right at the survivors. Andrew ducked, desperately searching for a cover, but there was nowhere to hide. The HUD couldn’t deal with sudden huge heat signatures appearing randomly around and while it sometimes showed a red circle or two, it was no good. Andrew blindly fired a few shots and then did the only thing possible - quickly moved towards the Zetans, taking one out by surprise, before the others reacted and turned to face him. The dead body served as a poor cover against raging flames and Andrew’s suit soon began to heat up. Fortunately, his bold move provided a distraction and other Undefeated started to push the Zetans back. Andrew threw the crisp that once used to be a body away, desperately trying not to throw up into his suit. The air filters could not possibly filter out all the smell of burning flesh and Andrew felt like he was suffocating. Pieces of fried skin sticking to the metal all over him didn’t help it at all. Finally losing his battle, he opened the visor of his helmet and threw up all over the dead bodies on the ground. When he straightened back up, the pungent stench of burnt meat mixing with the sharp smell of fresh vomit, he noticed that his Sergeant was standing guard next to him. “Good job, man,” he patted Andrew on the shoulder. Man. Just like that, he was no longer ‘the kid’. He smiled, wiping his mouth and spitting down on the dead Zetan. The man with the flamethrower was already dying, blood running from several gunshots in his stomach, but he decided to stand up one last time and do some more damage. Unfortunately, he was right behind Andrew’s back, and the young man didn’t see him until it was too late. The Sergeant did, however, and he pushed Andrew aside, catching the full-frontal blast himself. Andrew stumbled, but quickly regained his balance, turned, and kept shooting the Zetan until the flame died out. But it was too late. Sergeant’s body collapsed to the ground, heart-breaking moaning coming from his red-hot sizzling suit. Andrew whimpered and then did the only thing he could think of - pointed his rifle at Sergeant’s helmet and fired a couple of times. It was quiet now, only thin pillars of steam and smoke rising from the body. That was several hours ago. Two? Three? It didn’t matter. A bunch of survivors continued through the tunnel tirelessly. What else were they supposed to do? Andrew and some woman, he couldn’t remember her name, only knowing she was from the Serpents squad, were half carrying, half dragging another man. A grenade blastwave threw him into a beam head-first and he was losing consciousness. He was quiet for a bit too long now and Andrew suspected he was dead but was too afraid to stop and check. The woman solved the issue for him. “Wait a second.” She stopped and checked the unconscious man’s vitals. “Shit. He’s dead. Put him over here.” They dragged the body to the side of the tunnel, seating him there as if he were only resting. “Sorry man,” she saluted. “We had a good run.” Anita, that’s what they called her, Andrew suddenly remembered. She grabbed grenades from the dead man’s belt and turned away. “Let’s go.” That was all. Even so, it was more piety than most of the dead received today. Andrew wondered whether someone was going to salute his dead body. Is he going to be proclaimed a hero back home? Crowds of sobbing girls laying flowers onto his empty grave? Heh. Sure. They were going to build a memorial and at best he will become a name on the wall. One of hundreds. Thousands. Clickity-clack. Clickity-clack. What an odd sound. Andrew could walk more freely now that he wasn’t burdened by the dead weight of one of his comrades. He paused and listened carefully, looking around, shining his flashlight around the tunnel ceiling. The sound slowed and then stopped. Maybe he was just imagining it? It was entirely possible. Plus a lot of things exploded around him today, making him grateful he could hear anything at all. But there it was again, just as he started walking. Click-clack. Clickity-clack. It seemed to be coming from the ceiling. Lots of pipes there, ventilation shafts, maybe something got loose or damaged? But why would it pause just as he stopped walking? The others didn’t seem to notice it and continued forward. Andrew had this really strange feeling something bad was about to happen, but after everything he had been through today, it might just have been his nerves playing with him. Realizing he stayed a bit behind the group, he picked up the pace to catch up with them. The sound came back, this time faster and louder, moving quickly in front of him towards the rest of the group. The others finally noticed it too, looking up just as a small hatch opened right above their heads, making a loud squeak, and a tiny object fell down from it. Andrew didn’t even need the HUD to identify it. “GRENADE!” he yelled and threw himself to the ground. Just as the blastwave passed him, he rolled on his back and aimed at the largest vent shaft on the ceiling, making dozens of holes in it. Everything went quiet again and he listened carefully. Did he get him? “9 o’clock!” Anita stayed a bit back as well and wasn’t hit by the full blast. She immediately realized what was happening and started to scan their surroundings, looking for the attacker, finally discovering [i]something[/i] hiding in a shadowy corner. Andrew wasn’t exactly sure what it was. For a human or even humanoid robot, like the warforms, it had a bit too many limbs. He counted at least four legs with sharp hooks the thing used to hold itself on the walls and ceiling. At least three arms, one reaching for a belt with grenades while the other two were holding a rifle. Furious, Andrew realized it was one of their own, the creature must have stripped it off an Undefeated soldier. Strangely humanoid head, albeit made out of metal. As they aimed their flashlights and rifles on it, the thing started to move incredibly fast, running across the ceiling like a gargantuan spider, its limbs clawing through the concrete. They shot at it, hitting it a couple of times, but it didn’t seem bothered by bullets or laser shots. It leaped across the tunnel and disappeared in a ventilation shaft on the side. “What an ugly motherfucker!” Anita joined him and they stood there back to back, trying to guess where the next attack would come from. Andrew had to agree. Have these people truly completely cast their human forms away? “The others?” “Dead.” “Shit.” There was not much more to say. “I’m Andrew, by the way.” For some reason, he felt that if they were going to die together, she should at least know his name. The woman laughed. “Anna. You can buy me a drink in hell.” Andrew saw it first. It was mostly luck, his flashlight grazed the side of a grate just as it began to open. The HUD highlighted the slight movement, giving him an exact position of a very small target. Having nothing to lose, he grabbed a grenade and threw it right into a dark shaft that appeared when a mechanical arm opened the grate. The resulting explosion shook the tunnel wall. “Nice.” Anna turned towards him. “That must have killed it.” It didn’t. The robot leaped from the ceiling, scorched a bit, its metal no longer shiny, but otherwise looked unharmed. It landed right onto Anna and knocked her to the ground, its sharp claws piercing through her suit, crushing her inside it. Andrew raised his rifle, but the creature still had too many unoccupied limbs and ripped it right out of his arms, throwing it aside. Anna used the last remaining strength to try and push the robot away, but the thing just added pressure to one of its legs. The suit caved in, crushing her ribcage. Andrew jumped against the robot in a desperate attempt to get him away from Anna, even though it was already too late for her. The robot grabbed him like a broken toy and pushed his back against the wall. Andrew stared into its red, unblinking eyes. It had no facial expressions, but he was sure that whoever was controlling it was smiling right now. A sharp claw pierced the suit as if it was made out of leather, making its way through Andrew’s ribcage straight into his heart. The robot waited until the body stopped showing any signs of life. “Tunnel combat form version 3, test concluded,” it informed the dead bodies in the tunnel before climbing back into the ventilation system. [center][b]~~~~~~~~[/b][/center] [right][sub]Aboard the Undefeated Battleship - the Thorsten Blockade above Zeta-5[/sub][/right] Oscar stood at the window of his cabin on the Thorsten, watching the planet bellow. He didn’t even have to set foot on it and he already hated that rock. The reports spoke of extreme weather conditions ranging from temperatures so deep below zero people froze to death in split seconds to heat waves that burned soldiers alive. Attacks from unthinkable creatures, big or small. Not that they didn’t have those on Ellara, but here it was a completely new level. And he sent his people into this mess, to capture this disgusting pile of rocks. Yes, he did all he could to protect them from dangers on the surface, but what if the underground was even worse? Claire’s words kept buzzing through his mind. Stupid war. Stupid invasion. What was there to gain from all this? “Sir?” One of his officers was standing at the door, a solemn look on his face. Oscar had to fight himself not to groan. What now? “We… umm.. we have lost contact with the teams on the ground.” And here we go. “Which ones?” “Well, sir. All of them.” The officer looked uneasy. It was never good to be the bearer of bad news. “What?” “Some of the teams reported engaging the enemy and went silent after a while. Some reported strange beams coming from the tunnel walls and then… it was just screams of pain. And some just stopped transmitting, never even calling in anything special.” "So we have no contact with the surface whatsoever?" Oscar just stared at the man, stunned. "I'm afraid we don't, sir. We had to recall all ships back to space due to a violent storm closing in on the location. When the storm passes, we can land again and send some rescue teams…" "No," the General interrupted him. "No one else sets foot on that damn planet until we have some more information." What the hell have they gotten themselves into?