Seed of saviours
It was a strange feeling, but probably the only one he would ever fully react to. Complete power. In his hands, the proverbial saying went; he had held the lives of half a squad of troopers. But did he really care? No, not really. He never was good at finding the importance in things, eventually failing his English course because of it.
Ah, yes, his schooling years, the source of his tempting predicament and the major reason he had ended up in this alien hell hole. But was it really hell? Maybe if he had grown up with surroundings similar to these, the sky scrapers and modern buildings of mankind would be out of place. He might find comfort in the desolate terrain, despite there being not a trace of green anywhere.
But why was green so important? If it was, why does mankind insist upon building great structures of cold, grey concrete or the glinting steel like the kind his Morita smart rifle was made from, that twinkled sadistically as the plasma bugs fired their organic payloads. In fact, why was any colour valued so highly? Why do people even have favourite colours?
He realised his attention was drifting and tried to concentrate before a pain filled moan escaped his lips. He glanced up at the vast expanse of stars above him and found his eyes watering as they followed a pulsating blue orb arcing across the sky.
Another flew up, much closer, probably on the other side of the rocks judging by the screams echoing over the thin shield of rock wall that protected him. The almost desert like expanse of the landing zone was pockmarked with large stone protrusions that provided ample choke points for the arachnid defenders to utilise.
"But they only have four legs, how can they be arachnids?" a puzzled voice rang from deep within his memory.
"Because they're bugs, dim wit, 'arachnid' means bug." An overconfident voice answered.
"Yer' fergettin' the pinners next to its mouth a'well, 'at makes six. I'm guessin' the mand'blees count too, so 'ere's yer eight." Another, more reasonable voice, backed up the second in a friendly country drawl.
"But you don't count the mandibles on a spider. A spider walks on eight and has the two extras next to its mouth, which would mean a spider has ten. They aren't arachnids. Arachnids need eight legs, the mouth doesn't count!" The first voice defended itself, proving an end to the argument.
Poor bastards, he thought, without really meaning it. He had never been good with emotions, empathy, sympathy or anything along those lines. Maybe that factored in the treasonous thoughts he was having.
Maybe treason wasn't the best word for it, his feelings of betrayal were more personal, centred more selfishly than any thoughts of betraying the state. He didn't give two shits about the federation. The same state that had decided to attack an almost unknown enemy without any actual intelligence on how they fed and fought or even reproduced.
He took one last look at his blood splattered surroundings. His back rested against what was left of a bug warrior which, in turn, rested against a six meter tall wall of rock that stretched for about nine meters on either side of the dead insect. Across the way, not more than seven meters, stood another rock wall, the opening of a choke point, painted with an abstract mural composing only two colours, red and green.
He stood up painfully, and then haltingly made his way to the lip of the opening, coming across the carcass of another bug. The top half of its mandible had been blown off, giving the entire head a lopsided, incomplete look. Both legs on its left side were riddled with holes and pockmarks, the vestiges of a desperate squad of troopers protecting their planet and colonies.
A strange buzzing noise filled his ears suddenly, causing him to jump slightly which brought tendrils of fire to every nerve in his chest. His groan obviously brought unwanted attention, as the body of the fallen bug began to shudder.
"Stupid buggy. Jus' stay down, or I'll blow off the rest o' yer head." he half grumbled, half coughed, if only to comfort himself. He made a big deal of slotting another magazine into his rifle, again more for comfort than effect.
"I'm not a bug, I just smell like one." replied a shrill, shaky female voice. The bug began to shudder again before slowly exuding a tall humanoid figure practically dripping with ichor. A slim blonde, probably in her early twenties, stood up slowly, like a flower rising from the dirt in a parched desert. Her petals gently cradled a battered radio, the precious seed that would ensure its survival.
"I'm thinkin' I lost me mind, or I foun' me the most fertile patch o' earth on all klenny" he staggered closer, trying not to move too much for fear of angering the hive of bees that hid inside his chest.
"Aw shucks. I ain't no city slicker but I dun think you just payed me a – oh fuck, what happened to your chest?!" her easy, joking drawl had turned into an expression of horror as she surveyed the canyon in his chest. "I think I just saw the insides of your stomach." she added, before politely piling hers on the ground in front of him.
The blood drained from his face, leaving his grimace pale. "I was gettin' to thinkin' it wasn' 'at bad." he resisted the temptation to look down at his chest, noting how his body reacted in shakes and jerks.
The blonde just stared at him bleakly, absently wiping the edge of her mouth with the back of her sleeve. She looked on the verge of words when the radio cut her off.
"All... pull back to... -val repeat... units, pull... retrieval." bursts of static interrupted the transmission but the overall message was not lost on the two soldiers.
All of a sudden, the warrior bug that had, until recently, provided an ample hiding place for the blonde haired radio operator lurched into life. It let out a piercing scream before dragging its crippled legs with it towards its startled prey.
It tried to scurry after the tall blonde next to him, reaching out with the sword like pincers that rested above its head, thrashing them in her direction menacingly, before he made good on his promise, pumping the under barrel of his Morita and pulling the trigger in the bug's face. He watched the arachnids head explode under the force of the slugs with grim satisfaction before nodding to the fragile looking lady now standing behind him.
Without another word both figures headed towards the white flares of light trailing from above the tall rocky outcroppings. They constantly cast sidelong glances at each other, pretending to be studying something on the horizon as soon as the other noticed.
"They don't have any concept of medical treatment where you come from, do they?" She had to break the silence. It had been so awkward, staring at him but pretending she wasn't interested, wanting to ask his name but not sure how he would react, it was crazy.
She constantly found her gaze drifting down from his bland face but cringed at the thought of seeing the mess that had been made of his chest, instead looking ahead or to her left in order to avoid his questioning stare.
"If I thought 'ere was any chance o' you havin' one, I would 'ave asked." he answered gruffly, wiping at his face to remove some of the caked on dirt.
True, she thought, too true. If she had kept anything she might be able to use to help his situation she wouldn't have asked the question. She mentally ticked off her remaining equipment: one pistol, twelve rounds a magazine, five magazines, what was left of the radio set and its previous operator, her armour and her torso, which was more than she could say for her fellow companion.
It must have been a big bug to cause such a gruesome wound; then again, they were all pretty big. Upwards of three meters easily, the tallest she had seen so far was about four. But he didn't seem fazed at all, apart from that one moment of weakness, he was handling himself extremely well.
They continued walking at a laboured, slow pace that was nevertheless bringing them closer. The flares that shot out over the occasional rock formation shined brighter, stayed visible longer and proved her with some well needed comfort.
The noise in the background picked up. Instead of just his pained grumbles he could hear a large cacophony of sounds. The reassuring sound of engines starting up, voices shouting to one another, people screaming for the pilots to prep the craft quicker but not screams of pain, just impatience. He let out a sigh of relief, thinking everything was about to be fine before cursing himself silently.
"No, no that's not fair! They wouldn't! They can't!" the shapely figure next to him yelled. "There should be more than enough fire-power to last long enough to get everyone on-board, why are they taking off?" she sounded frustrated and disheartened at the same time.
They had just passed the first line of rocky outcrops, and were now observing landing zone delta. The transport furthest to the left stood three hundred meters away from another set of jutting outcrops while the other two had landed about twenty meters from each other. All three faced toward him, ramps shut, vigorously pimping illumination into the occasionally blue striped sky.
He quickened his pace to what he called a jog, while his companion simply lengthened her stride. She stared at him briefly, concern written on all of her features, informing him of the pain that she could probably see in his eyes.
Soon enough they both saw why the pilot's were in such a hurry. About two hundred meters to the left of the impatient mob of troopers was an angry wave of snapping mandibles and scurrying feet.
"They're going to be slaughtered before we even get there" the female radio op lent a voice to his thoughts. "I need to get over there. Someone has to tell them!" she pleaded to the air. "I'll… I'll come back…for you. I won't leave you trooper. You'll be in the med bay in no time, just keep making your way to the transport on the far right." She grabbed his arm, sparing him a glance that reinforced her promise before shrugging the radio off her back and putting her long legs to good use.
He watched her sprint towards the unaware troopers, shouting all the while, trying to draw their attention to the oncoming horde of chitin armoured death. While some troopers paid enough attention to look in her direction most of the others continued to voice their protests while the first transport, the one he was supposed to be heading towards, defiantly lifted itself off the ground.
No one seemed to pay attention. A few stared at her, most probably commenting on the way her female anatomy responded to the pace she had set, bloody idiots, hope they die happy.
She had closed most of the distance across the flat expanse, but was now out of breath; she wrenched the pistol from its holster and fired two shots into the air. She let out an incredulous laugh as the entire group of soldiers jumped at the same time, then looked around frantically. Bugs weren't supposed to have guns, or the intelligence to use them
She pumped her fists as hard as she could, running not only for herself, but the lives of an entire platoons worth of troopers. "You fucking idiots!" she screamed, flailing her arms in the direction of the approaching bugs. "Take up positions you rag tag rabble of swinging dicks!" that seemed to achieve the intended effect.
Troopers were wheeling about now, frantically trying to keep their feet in the confusions that ensued after the first cry of "Buuuuugs!" tripping over each other to get the best position in the firing line, the back. The entire line folded in on itself due to a lack of command before commanding voices issued orders.
"Split up, split up!" someone yelled, "Stay with your squad!" another screamed followed by "We're going to fucking die! Run you fuckers!" everyone bold enough to assume command shut up as soon as the lieutenant emerged from the group, bellowing commands that no one dared disobey, after she had discharged another short from her pistol, that is.
"Find anyone that belongs to your squad and form up!" voiced the sole command of the group, waiting patiently while the troopers did their best to form into a cohesive unit. "Now spread out a little, make sure everyone has a clear line of sight but stay in your unit. Who has a radio?" A trooper, holding his rifle like it was a particularly bad tray of food, emerged from the closest group.
The man had lost his helmet and his rifle showed signs of being dropped all too often, but the rest of his uniform was immaculately clean, "Private Richard Clemens reporting sir. Did you want me to radio the transports back sir?" he asked rather hopefully, already neglecting his rifle to get at the handset controls.
"That would be best, tell them to disembark all troopers once they land and wait until I give the signal to dust off this time." The lieutenant commanded, running a hand through her golden curls and surveying the formation of the jostling troopers.
"Transports five through eight, delta LZ, you are commanded to land again and disembark all troopers. By order of lieutenant…" he looked at the imposing figure before him, waiting for a name.
"Briskell, Lieutenant Briskell. Just get them back down here and all Mobile Infantry on board into the action." She replied curtly, staring at something indiscriminate along the horizon that he couldn't care any less about.
"By order of lieutenant Briskell. Repeat: all transports five through eight, delta LZ, disembark all troopers." He listened to the pilot's gripes before turning his attention towards the surging mass of bugs that looked far too big for his liking.
"Trooper, do you see that man out there?" the lieutenant asked, sparing a few seconds from barking orders. Her finger pointed over his head, back the way she had come.
Richard followed the officer's finger. A slow, lumbering figure was making its way toward the now organised mass of soldiers, "Yes sir." He replied quickly thinking over a course of action that would get him out of the upcoming and assuredly brutal fight, "Would you like me to go get him?" he kept his eagerness in check for fear that she might assign someone else to pick him up.
"Better fetch him before the transports land; I won't have any men left behind." She nodded to herself, confirming that it was better to have the radio op as far away as possible if he didn't know how to shoot straight, regardless of the fact that all but the sniper variant of the Morita carried anything but a primitive iron sight.
She turned back to the rest of the troopers then made sure the arachnids were in range before filling her lungs and yelling, "FIRE AT WILL TROOPERS!" she added what was left of her first magazine to the volley then walked amongst the troops, trying to boost morale before the engagement got messy.