Phalanx 14: Bad News
Gordon awoke, feeling achy are cold. He armed and armored himself and stood at the entrance flap. In front of him, was a thin layer of snow. Taking a mental note to clear it away later, Gordon marched down to the kitchen and caught a quick breakfast; he'd need to get in on today's briefing.
His squad was already suited up and standing at attention. He took his place in line as Priscilla took roll call. "Name yourselves, begin!"
"Private First Class Zoey Hannah Irene, Ma'am!"
"Private Benjamin Carmine, Ma'am!"
"Lance Corporal Gordon Iago Kim, Ma'am!"
"Sergeant Bianca Noel Rider, Ma'am!"
"This is Lieutenant Priscilla Camilla Dally. Today, at 0730 hours, a King Raven carrying supplies is scheduled to arrive at the front courtyard. The supplies consist of ammunition, food, and medical supplies. Am I understood?"
"Ma'am, yes ma'am!"
"Then move out!" They marched in line towards the front courtyard. Priscilla looked at her watch. "Supplies are due to arrive in ten minutes." Then Priscilla gave instructions. "Here's the plan: Irene, Carmine, you take the crate when it drops. Use these flares," she said, pulling out four orange incendiaries and a single white one. The two of them nodded and she handed Irene the flares.
"Gordon, you watch those two; they're your responsibility. Make sure they get this right. Noel, when the supplies arrive, take inventory of the contents. I will keep in contact with the crew. Let's go." The five of them leapt to their tasks. Gordon found a suitable are and instructed Carmine and Irene where to place the flares. The gears lit them on his command and they waited. Priscilla stayed on the radio, keeping in contact with the pilot and filling Noel in on the details of the shipment. The sergeant was recording the items on a piece of paper.
After a while, they heard the approaching beating of rotor blades. The helicopter approached from the front gate of the facility, with a large crate dangling beneath it. Gordon heard Priscilla say: "Copy that, Iota out." The King raven hovered over the flares, and a winch lowered the cargo, right over the white flare, which Carmine kicked away before the load dropped down.
A rope fell from the helicopter and down slid a gear in strange armor. Priscilla didn't looked surprised and said: "Wait here. Carmine, go get Tom out here."
"Yes Ma'am!" he chirped and ran into the facility. Gordon guessed that this man was from the Marines. He noticed that Noel looked slightly sad as she continued taking inventory of the merchandise. When Tom appeared, he was fully armored and armed. He walked casually behind Carmine towards the helicopter. The man told Tom something, and the latter briefly kissed Noel before climbing the rope onto the helicopter, and was shortly followed by the man.
Then, the helicopter flew off, the noise of its rotors fading into silence. They broke apart the large crate into multiple boxes and began carrying them inside. Presently, a voice came in over the radio.
"Iota, this is KR 7-6. Unknown infantry spotted on north side of facility."
"Are they COG?" asked Priscilla, reaching for her machine pistol.
"Negative; confirmed sighting of bloodmounts."
"What's the ETA?"
"Twenty minutes to an hour."
"And their numbers?"
"Can't say. There's at least a dozen down there."
"Can you provide fire support?"
"Negative; we got priority one orders to retrieve Delta Squad and return to base ASAP. Sorry. Good luck Iota, KR 7-6 out."
"Understood, preparing whoopass. Iota out." Priscilla turned and addressed them: "Listen up, Iota! Noel, alert Kappa Squad and get them over to the east gate, pronto! Consider that your standing order. The rest of us will hold here! Move out!" Gordon became nervous. Carmine took a pair of frag grenades and tagged the gate with them before climbing on top of a sheet metal roof. He lay prone and took out his sniper rifle.
Being left handed, Gordon took the right side of the phalanx. Priscilla formed the middle, and Irene was on the right. Soon, they heard roaring. Gordon's grip tightened on his boltok. Irene took her Gorgon's safety off, and Priscilla muttered something.
A beeping, then a bang erupted from the left side of the gate. One of Carmine's frag mines exploded, blowing out the lead bloodmount's left flank. The rider was flung from his mount, and landed on the ground, snapping his neck. A loud boomer's roar erupted from beyond the gate, and a mauler, exposing itself charged for them, but Carmine's second mine exploded, blowing off its leg. They watched while it helplessly squirmed on the ground, dying in a pool of its own blood.
Then, without warning, a wave of three bloodmounts charged through the gate. Immediately, Iota opened fire. The first wave fell without advancing ten yards. The three of them reloaded as Carmine finished off the riders with his lancer.
Next, a final bloodmount came dashing through the gate at full speed. At the same time, a score of locusts vaulted over the walls and opened fire!
The bullets impacted Iota's shields', forcing them back. A round grazed Gordon's face and took out a patch of skin. He winced in pain and saw the offender: a cyclops. Angry, Gordon brought his weapon to bear on the locust's head and pulled the trigger. Its head exploded, dropping it to the ground instantly.
"Boomer!" shouted Carmine. An RPG sailed into his perch's support column and the awning collapsed! Carmine tumbled to the ground and landed on his front.
"Carmine!" yelled Priscilla, taking frags in hand. The young gear pulled himself up and took cover behind a concrete barrier. Then, a grenadier's shotgun blasted him. He collapsed to the ground.
Priscilla primed the frags and tossed all three of them at the gate. "Take this you mother fuckers!" she screamed. "Cover me!" The negress broke the phalanx, drawing her scorcher and ran for Carmine.
Gordon drew up next to Irene, pressing each other shoulder to shoulder. Irene reloaded her Gorgon and fired three bursts at an advancing grenadier, blowing its knee out. She took aim and finished it off with a last burst, and noticed a scream next to her.
"Get it off me!" yelled Gordon. A wretch had pounced him, and was tearing at his throat. The redhead raised her boot and kicked the beast. The boot connected and she felt several ribs crack. Gordon said thanks and got back up.
Priscilla held Carmine close. He was in a daze. The pellets hadn't breached his armor, but they had impacted his helmet. He was barely coherent, and couldn't stand. Priscilla incinerated a bolter and reverted to her training. She grabbed Carmine by the armpits and dragged him on his back towards Gordon and Irene. The young private drew his pistol and opened fire upon an advancing trio of drones, resulting in only four hits. "They got him hard." she breathed, her voice thick with worry.
A rough boot connected with her sides, and she fell over in pain. "Help me!" gasped Priscilla. A brigadier was about to bring his foot crashing down through her skull! Terrified, Priscilla shut her eyes and waited for the end, but it never came.
"Get away from her, you sick fuck!" shouted a voice, and Carmine moved. She heard a chainsaw revv and she opened her eyes. Carmine had dropped the grenadier onto its back and revved his lancer's chainsaw. With a shout, he shoved the blade into the Grenadier's chest. The locust convulsed and twisted with blood spewing from its wound. Carmine tore open its chest, and clumsily reached down to help her.
Carmine tried to dash back to the entrance, but stumbled, wobbling on his trembling legs. Prsicilla drew her pistol and put her arm around his shoulder, walking him back. He shook with every step. The gunfire was becoming thinner. They were climbing up the nonfunctioning freight elevator, then Carmine suddenly collapsed!
Priscilla caught him and shouted to Irene: "Help me get him out of here!" The redhead grabbed his feet and they carried him back into the facility, leaving Gordon alone. The young gear fired his last round. The projectile zoomed through the air and tore through a drone's neck, killing it. Lowering his revolver, Gordon drew his sword.
"Get me if you can." he challenged the three remaining locusts: a drone, a grenadier and a bolter. The bolter ran at him. Casually, he caught the locust on the point, slipping through the ribs, and sprinkling him with blood. Gordon tugged the sword from his fallen enemy and raised his shield.
The two remaining enemies fired on him, but he caught the rounds on his shield. As soon as they started to reload, Gordon ran at the grenadier, taking a leaping slash at its neck! The blade connected and sliced the head off, and a force struck Gordon's side like a hammer.
He rolled sideways, distancing himself from his enemy and avoiding smacking his head on the pavement. Gordon rose like a spring and charged the drone, shielding himself from the deadly bullets. He ploughed into the drone, sending it sprawling to the ground and finished it with a stab through the heart. He looked up, and to his horror, he saw a pair of therons entering the facility.
With deft hands, Gordon drew an arrow and readied his torque bow. He advanced upon the pair and let the arrow fly. The projectile stuck into the atlas vertebrae and it dropped down. The second theron wheeled around to face him. Then Gordon saw the truth: It was a grenadier in maroon armor, with a nasty looking pistol and a barbed wire whip!
With a roar, the drone slung its whip at Gordon. Gordon raised his sword to block, and it coiled around the blade. With a strong tug, the sword was wrenched from his grasp and Gordon drew his torque bow. The drone snapped the whip and made another swipe at him. He ducked under it, trying to get closer. The drone lunged and swung the weapon at his neck. Gordon tried to shield, but he was too slow! The barbs sank into his skin and coiled around his throat!
Out of options, Gordon ran headlong at the drone, removing tension from the whip. He brought his bow's blades whistling through the air, slicing off its right hand! He kicked the drone in the guts, and it stumbled over. Reaching up, Gordon quickly uncoiled the whip from his throat and moved to finish off the done, which had gotten back up and readied its pistol.
His enemy pointed the pistol at him and fired. The rounds clanged and dented his armor, some burrowing through. Gordon, being filled with adrenaline, charged through the gunfire and rammed one of the bow arms into the drone's guts. The point burst through the leathery hide and tore through the organs. With a kick, Gordon knocked it to the ground and stomped it on the nose, sending the bone tearing through its brain. After this last foe was dispatched, he collected and sheathed his sword.
Suddenly, Gordon was struck with fatigue and pain. The holes in his neck stung and bled horribly. His chest was filled with uncomfortable objects embedded into his flesh. He hadn't noticed the damage.
Wearily, he dragged himself into the facility and sought his comrades. They were as shaken as he was, and Sam and Mick took over security. Over the next hour, Gordon was forced to patrol the outside to confirm the security of their area. Having done that, he slipped away to tend to his wounds.
Firstly, he took off his cuirass, revealing a series of four wounds on his chest. The worst of them was stuck into his skin right over his sternum, and they hurt like hell. Twisting up his fingers, Gordon removed the projectiles from him. Luckily, most of them were stuck in his armor, which was thicker than standard armor. He took note of the projectiles and pondered their characteristics.
They were thin, sharp, and small; more like flechettes than bullets; probably only thirty caliber. Based off of what he remembered from ballistics class, they were probably intended to be used against soft fleshy targets and to shred the organs without exiting the body, thereby maximizing damage; highly unusual for locust firearms, which tended to be more like the bastard child of an executioner's ax and a twelve inch naval gun.
Gordon took his hand and subconsciously rubbed it over his body. It was adorned with scars and discolorations that made it look like the surface had been tattooed with an enormous black spider web made of strands ranging in size from mere hairs to eighth of an inch across, interrupted by the occasional discolored patch of skin. He put his hand to his face, feeling the recent wound. It had scabbed, and was more like a burn than a bullet. His face had no real scars on it. Although it looked cool to go into battle barefaced, and he had better peripheral vision, survival was worth being considered a rook; experienced gears didn't wear helmets. Some said that they had finally learned to stop being afraid of getting hurt. Gordon thought that it was because they wanted to stand out.
After putting his helmet and cuirass back on, Gordon went to check on his squad. For the most part, they were alright. Priscilla had lain Carmine on his back on top of a crate. She took removed his helmet and looked at his features. "His eyes are discolored; he's got a concussion." she said to him.
"Is he still out?"
"Yes, but I think he'll be alright." she answered somewhat nervously. This change in diction alerted Gordon to a serious concern for Carmine's wellbeing.
"Well, hopefully he'll come around soon. Where are Noel and Irene?"
"They're on patrol with Kappa. They should be coming back through the facility now."
"Permission to join them, Ma'am?"
"Granted." Gordon turned and left, but first, he gave her the strange pistol and a clip of ammunition. "This is a new locust weapon, Ma'am. It's some kind of pistol that's highly effective at piercing armor and I thought that it would be fitting to alert command to its existence."
"Will do, now go." He turned and left for real this time, taking only his sword, shield, and bow. He caught up with his squad at the stasis tanks. The six of them, seven including himself had weapons out and were on edge. Kappa, with the exceptions of Sam and Mick didn't look too banged up, so they most likely had seen almost nothing of the locust offensive. Dizzy, on the other hand, seemed to have gotten a pretty bad share of the action.
It turned out that Sam and Mick had known Priscilla for a number of years, ever since basic training. They had aroused her ire and didn't want a repeat performance. After a few sweeps around the facility, they found nothing and Mick, being the ranking officer, announced: "Area secure. Status: green."
The security status scale had five levels: blue, green, yellow, orange, and red, and they meant something like the following. Blue meant that the area was completely secure and had no risk of locust incursion. Green meant that the area was mostly secured but the locust might attack, which was just about everywhere. Yellow meant that the area was not very secure and a locust attack was a distinct possibility. Orange meant that an area was unsafe and a locust attack was imminent. Finally, red meant that an active engagement was taking place. Gordon thought that Mick's proclamation of green security was overly optimistic and that the situation was most likely orange, but trusted the more experienced gear's judgment; the foolish didn't live long.
Nevertheless, they spent the rest of the afternoon moving, dividing, and organizing the supplies. For dinner, they had a can of creamed corn. Afterwards, Priscilla gave them the debriefing: "Iota Squad, today we faced and successfully repelled a locust attack with no fatalities of our own. Despite injuries to ourselves, we are still combat effective. Gordon brought to light the development of a new locust pistol." She held aloft the weapon, which looked liked somewhat like a clothes iron. "Finally, contrary to the views of First Lieutenant Mick, I place this squad's alert status at yellow. As such, there will be constant patrols for the next thirty-six hours. Noel, Gordon, Irene, divvy up the pairs and get to it. Dismissed!"
Gordon had been hoping for sleep, but obeyed orders. He agreed to take the first night watch with Irene and the last night watch with Noel. He'd be relieved for some shuteye at around midnight. After gathering another full complement of rounds for his boltok and donning his helmet, Gordon set off with Irene on the first watch, and maybe would find time to discuss the day's events.
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Authors Notes
Sorry about the long drought. I just got he computer de-bugged and I am making up for lost time. I've got through chapter 15 finished and I'll give you chapter 16 in the next week.
The story is about to get a lot more serious, so watch out.