Ya, so, I don't own Avatar.
Chapter 32: Lucifer's Fury
Date: 1130 May 27th, 2170
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Hauptmann Johannes Adler jogged lightly to Brunhilde, even as the deep roar of alarms going off began to echo across the base. The mighty Valkyrie's engines were already beginning to come to life as he arrived, and he tossed a smile at the scantily dressed Valkyrie gracing her side as he passed.
The smile faded slightly as he entered through the slightly damaged 'bunker' on her aft end. Though they had repaired most of the damage done, the idea that the native creatures were strong enough to warp the metal as easily as they had did not fill him with reassurance.
He made a mental note to himself; We will have to ensure that none get that close, if it is possible. It probably wouldn't be, in the end, but keeping several of his Samsons in a close defensive formation should keep her clear for as long as possible.
Not that we truly expect to survive, he mused as he made his way to the copilots seat. It would be nice, and it is something to hope for, but it is just a faint hope at this point.
"Guten Nacht, Hauptmann." the pilot greeted as he sat, Brunhilde shaking slightly as she began to lift off.
"Guten Nacht." he returned easily, bringing up the main satellite scans of the area. The Samsons of his Valkyrie Kampfgruppe were already airborne, hovering lightly in a loose formation as they waited for the great behemoth to begin moving towards Site 01. The last few of the Americans were hurrying into their protective bunkers, and the reports showed that Kozlov and his Russians were already secured into their two complexes.
The thermal images of the surrounding areas painted the bleak picture for him. The three native prongs to the north had merged into two mixed groups of savages and beasts. One looked like it was heading directly for Tartarus, the other, that traitor Sully's band, was moving around and was aiming for Site 02. The eastern band had increased their speed, despite the previous night's attack, and were rapidly approaching site 01 even as Brunhilde began to move.
They must have had scouts ahead of them, on dire horses so that we would have a difficult time locating them.
His comm system flashed, the register showing that it was Kozlov.
A hand punched the acknowledge button, "Ja? We are en route now mein freund."
"Good," his Russian compatriot's voice came across clearly, "Our thermals are picking up their lead scouts, one kilometer out."
"We will be there in five minutes to begin the engagement."
"Acknowledged." the communication cut off without any wasteful chatter.
His squadron fell into formation around Brunhilde as she accelerated out of the base and towards the incoming blue-skin hoard.
Bringing up the squadron's communications frequency, he gave his orders, "Hostiles approaching Mining Site 01, Brunhilde will fall into a holding pattern and begin a general bombardment until the hostiles reach the bunker complex. Squadron is to provide screening and missile support as needed."
A chorus of pilots acknowledging the orders came across his comm system before he continued, "We are the only air power available, I want no heroics, every man, and every machine, is invaluable. I want to see everyone there when we ship home, so that we may all drink together in Kiel once more."
Laughter sounded at the last bit, and he smiled as they closed the distance, passing over the misshapen, man-made hill that was host to the mining site's bunker complex.
He could see the banshees now, their appearance akin to a dark cloud, slowly moving towards them. Brunhilde's engines roared gamely as the pilot brought her nose up, ascending and banking into a wide turn. The Samsons mimicked the maneuver, forming into a protective sphere around the massive shuttle, the sensor net flashing as they began to acquire missile locks.
A quick glance at the thermals showed the initial wave of dire-horse riders slowly building up steam as they closed the distance to the mining site, the motion like a wave across the image.
"The banshee riders must have slowed to let the ground-pounders keep up." he murmured quietly. He expelled his breath in an earthly sigh as Brunhilde's turn brought her guns to bear, nodded to himself, and gave the order.
"Valkyrie Kampfgruppe, feuer frei."
Missiles immediately lanced out into the night, and the deck shook as the heavy forty-millimeter guns began to roar.
This time, the natives weren't as surprised by the attack. The Banshees dove upon sighting the flashes, and thermals showed the dire-horses expanding into a full gallop as the explosions began to shred the jungle trees around them.
Evasive maneuvers or no, dozens still died in the opening moments. Adler watched as missiles swerved after their targets, explosions brightening the night as pieces of both savage and beast fell from the sky. The ground thermals became hazy as the heat from explosions began to tear across jungle, sending soil and foliage flying.
The enraged blue-skins swarmed towards them, and he saw the flashes of light from the direction of the mine indicating that the men within the complex had opened fire.
"Pilot, take us to the mining site, Gunners, prepare to begin aimed support fire!" he shouted. He had to, even with the comm system. Brunhilde's overtaxed engines and roaring main battery made it difficult to hear, even with earpieces.
Even as she broke out of her circling pattern, the banshees began to arrive.
The scanners painted a chaotic picture, made worse by looking outside. The twilight conditions, camouflaged Samsons, and naturally dark Banshees made seeing anything visually an extreme challenge. Tracer rounds were flying everywhere, dark shapes falling from the sky, damage reports coming in as his Samsons were hit by arrows.
He smirked slightly at the last. The Samsons were getting hit, and hurt, but not killed. The natives, in their haste to evade the missiles, had given up the main advantage in any aerial combat: altitude. Without the speed of a dive to accelerate their arrows, they were having a difficult time piercing the thick glass and hulls of the helicopters.
The smirk faded to a wince, however, as first one, then two Samsons broke off, their pilots reporting that their side gunners had been killed. A third began what could only be described as a 'controlled fall' after one of its rotors was shot out, the pilot struggling to get the craft to the mining site before it crashed into the jungle.
"Samsons 12, 14, escort 11 in, ensure no blue-skins engage her!" he snapped, watching as two of his precious ships broke from the formation, side guns roaring as they fell into escort positions around their burning comrade, driving off the natives who had attempted to swarm the fleeing craft.
Brunhilde's voice began to speak once more as she fell into another long bank; the edge of the clearing separating the complex from the jungle coming into view as the pilot maneuvered her. A glance out the window told him all he needed to know about the tactical situation on the ground.
The savages were being slaughtered wholesale. They'd managed to destroy the sentry guns protecting two of the kill-zones with their fire-bombs, but had literally carpeted the ground with their own dead to do it. What native fauna had participated looked to have already fallen; the scrap-metal barrier was filled with what looked like the corpses of nearly every kind of land animal in the region.
A few fires were burning on the hill, where some of the natives had been able to get close enough to through their weapons, but they were all under control from appearances, and Brunhilde quickly scoured the few surviving natives trying to find a way into the complex.
The appearance of the massive Valkyrie, and the deaths of the few savages who had managed to even reach the complex broke whatever courage the natives had summoned. Those warriors who still could melted back into the jungle, and the banshees began to drop into the tree tops.
"Do not pursue, repeat, do not pursue." he transmitted, watching the retreat.
The occasional arrow flew outwards, imbedding itself harmlessly into the dirt or ricocheting off the concrete, and was always answered by a short burst of gunfire. A few of the braver savages were slowly moving into the scrap barrier, appearing to try and use the scraps as a limited form of cover. He glanced at the screen that kept track of the Valkyrie's ammunition.
Almost dry for the main batteries, though her machine guns were still well stocked. Her machine guns aren't her true purpose though. They can sting, but the main guns can hurt.
Glancing one more time at the field of corpses and the skirmish the battle had devolved to, he nodded to himself. "Kampfgruppe, withdraw to Tartarus for rearming and refueling."
Date: 0200, May 27th, 2170
Location: Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
"Total casualties were fifteen of my airmen," Adler's voice came over the comm system in the Ops-Center, "One Samson lost permanently, another managed to set down with a damaged rotor at site 01. Ammunition is very low for my main guns and for my escorts' machine guns. We are retiring to rearm."
"Proceed Hauptmann." Weigand returned shortly.
Parker nodded to himself slightly. "So far so good then?"
The Oberst nodded as well, "Ja. Light casualties overall, eighteen total with the three who died in their pillbox when a fire-bomb hit it, but the natives failed utterly to overwhelm the complex, and their fauna support proved totally ineffective at the location."
Though he did feel more confident now that the eastern prong had been, at least, repulsed, he was still worried. "But we've still had no contact with Patel, and who knows what their actual casualties were."
Weigand frowned, and then nodded, more slowly this time. "True. Thomes' best guess is that there's still at least five hundred left, more likely to be around eight hundred, but they've dispersed into the area, it's harder to track them. And as for the other... I hesitate to guess, but it would unfortunately seem that Dr. Patel has failed in his mission, if things have progressed this far."
That... is not good news. His eyes slowly fell to the table before him, as much as he tried to avoid looking at it, he could still see the thermal scans showing the much more massive northern groups approaching.
"How long?" he asked quietly.
The Oberst didn't pretend to misunderstand him. "Three hours for the first group, five for Sully if they intend to skirt our defenses."
"What are you going to have Adler do?"
"Rearm, refuel, get new gunners for the Samsons that need them, and then support the northern defenses. They have to hold against the coming storm."
He frowned and stared at the massive swarm approaching, "Can we hold out against better than three thousand natives, plus all those beasts?"
There was an arched eyebrow in response, "Do we have a choice?"
Parker did not care for that answer. Not, one, bit.
Date: 0449, May 27th, 2170
Location: Outer Command Bunker, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Captain Michael Jones stared at the small holotable crammed into his command bunker, watching as Adler's Valkyrie Squadron slowly lifted off and prepared to do battle once more. His subordinates began to chorus out that their positions were manned and ready, waiting only for the blue-skins to enter their range.
He didn't need to make a speech; his men and women knew the score. They were all veterans, having served as combat engineers in a host of battlefields; the names of Rangoon, Sarajevo, Montevideo, Baghdad, and a dozen others decorated their battalion flag back home. They were no strangers to death and violence.
But this… well, this was different. They weren't just fighting for the Stars and Stripes anymore. They were fighting for everyone back on Terra.
A flick brought his headset online. "Listen up. The blue-skins are approaching, two klicks out and accelerating. They're gonna try and run right over us, but that ain't gonna happen. Those blue monkeys think they can take this ground from us. Those moronic jarheads back home think they've got the monopoly on American courage. The airborne think they're the only ones who can win an impossible battle."
He could hear the war-cries of the approaching savages now, even as he spoke, "Well, you know what? Fuck. Them. We are going to hold this god damned worthless ground. We are going to slaughter those mother-fuckers who killed our friends, who are doing everything they can to make sure Terra dies! We are going to fucking hold this line against everything they throw at us."
The natives were approaching rapidly now, the close-range thermals began to glow. His people broke out into wolf howls, as they had done the night of the first raid by the savages, what seemed like so long ago now.
Far above them, missiles began to streak downwards as the Germans played their part, and Brunhilde's heavy guns began to fire a few moments later, decorating the forest with explosions. He could hear deep thumps from behind the lines as their pitifully few light mortars began to lob their payloads of death into the oncoming hoard. Flares shot out into the night, bursting into red light as they slowly descended, revealing a sight from hell.
A solid wall of savages and beasts raced towards them. Massive titanoheres charged forwards, dire-horses and their riders shouting and screaming challenges, with viper wolves sprinting underfoot.
His engineers didn't need him to say a word, the instant they could see their enemy, they opened fire with everything they had. Heavy fifty-caliber machine guns roared in tandem with assault rifles, the even deeper roar of their precious forty-mills sounded as they hurled armor-piercing death into the super-fauna charging them.
Heart pounding, he moved quickly to the firing slit on his bunker, grabbing his rifle, swiftly gazed down the sights, and began to fire a long burst. Aiming didn't matter much. He would have to be trying to miss.
Nothing could have truly prepared them for this. The swarm rushed closer, even as countless of them fell. The massive super-fauna collapsed, with some simply exploding into gory masses as the armor-piercing rounds tore into them. More vanished into explosions as the mortar rounds fell and Brunhilde stepped up her pace of fire. He watched a tracer round from a forty-millimeter cannon as it missed the Thanator it was aiming at and simply rip through bodies as it roared down range. The single round must have slain a dozen at least in their packed formation. In the end, it didn't matter.
In the mere minute between the launching of the first flare, and the savages reaching his lines, hundreds must have died. And still they came on. It was courage to the point of pure insanity, like nothing he had ever seen before. No human force could have crossed that ground without breaking, but here, the natives took everything that he could throw at them and still they came on.
The viper wolves reached the line first, his few flamethrowers reached out, torching many that made it, trying to keep them out of the trenches. Most of the six legged beasts died before they could leap into the slit in the soil, but a few made it. And then the screams started.
Too damn many are coming! he swore to himself, activating his headset once more, "Oberst! We need your reserve team now!" he shouted.
"Two minutes." The brusque German voice returned.
"We don't have two minutes!" he bellowed at his superior before cutting the signal.
He could hear screaming outside as the creatures tore into his people, the beasts shrieking as bullets and fire tore into them.
Slamming a new clip into his rifle, he resumed firing at the still approaching horde. Not many of the Viper-wolves had made it, but they were distracting his people, lessening the fire headed outwards into the still incoming forces. The only thing he could be thankful for was that the super-fauna had not made it, the giant herd of hard-headed creatures had been torn apart by the heavy guns, and what few Thanators had been present had drawn most of Brunhilde's ire.
Any thoughts of being thankful about anything vanished when the cavalry charge reached the trench line. Blue-skins leaped from the backs of their mounts into the trench line, and shouts and war-cries in two different languages began to flood the area. More tried to push deeper into the base, to be met by sporadic fire from what reserves they had in the deeper trench lines.
He sprinted to a new firing position, a small slit aiming along the trench to the bunker's right. Can't worry about them, the interior defenses will have to deal with it.
Just as he brought his weapon up again, one of his soldiers in the trench screamed as a native slammed his foot into her chest and sent her hurtling down to the ground, raising its bow to deliver the coup de grace.
He put a three round burst into its head before the arrow was even cocked back. The woman, swearing, stumbled to her feet and fired a burst down the trench at a viper wolf, dropping it.
The line had devolved into chaos. Natives and Engineers fought each other at point blank range, fire-bombs and grenades were exploding all along the trenches. Tracer rounds from the defenses around the Ops-Center flew outwards as they provided what fire support they could.
Far overhead, something exploded. Mere moments later the flaming wreck of a Samson slammed into the ground just outside the line, cutting down three natives and an engineer, all luckless enough to be too close.
He fired another burst down the line, the native slumping and collapsing off of its dire horse before it could dismount. An arrow hurled downwards, the woman whose life he had saved less than minute before gave a choked scream and fell as it pierced her chest clean through.
"Son of a bitch!" he swore, glancing at the holotable behind him. The aerial battle was as chaotic as the ground battle, and was going even worse for the humans. Adler's people were doing everything they could, but there were just too many natives. Too many banshees. Too many of everything. His Samsons were clinging to Brunhilde, trying their best to support one another, but yet another Samson plummeted to the ground even as he glanced at the read-out.
"God dammit Weigand, where are you!?"
Location: Outer Defenses, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
Karyu was terrified. He had been expecting a fight like in the tales, where the courage of the People and the fury of Eywa would drive the tawtute before them, where the cowardly faketuan would flee before their righteous fury, and the victorious People would return, with tales to tale for generations.
Not… not this. Nothing like this.
Not watching his clan die around him as the tawtute's terrible weapons bit into his clan. Not watching his mate's body simply vanishing as an explosion of fire erupted next to her pa'li. His father screaming as blood exploded from his chest. His brother collapsing limply as something caused his head to simply burst in a rush of blood and gore.
His pa'li was just as terrified as he, her hooves struggling to keep her balance as they raced towards the tawtute, the stench of death thick in the air as they raced over the corpses of those who had been before them.
He screamed as an explosion erupted to his left, the bond with his mount breaking as the force hurled him off her back and into the thin hole the tawtute warriors were fighting from.
Coughing, he tried to stumble to his feet. A foot nearly went out from under him as he slipped on the corpse of a nantang, and he fought to control his stomach at the stench of blood and burnt flesh.
You are not a child, you are a warrior of the people! You must defend Eywa, so that the sacrifice of your tribe is not in vain! His mind screamed at him, and he steeled himself as he hunched over and ran down the thin path.
Turning a corner, he saw, for the first time, a tawtute up close. Its face was covered by a gleaming object of some kind, its skin covered by dark green and blue cloth. It held a cold metal weapon up to its shoulder, fire barking from its end as it hurled death. He swiftly raised his bow and let fly before it could see him, before it could bring that weapon to bear. The arrow hurled the small creature to the ground, it let out a scream and began to thrash. A quick grab brought a second arrow to his bow, and he fired again. It went still. Gulping, he strung another arrow to his bow in case it rose again.
Eyes staring widely at the creature he had just slain, he almost didn't notice the other tawtute as it turned the corner ahead of him. His hands moved faster than his brain, releasing his arrow. It slammed into the creature's black heart, the tawtute collapsing against the side wall, twitching slightly.
I've just killed two of them... it didn't seem real. It had been... far too easy. How could killing them be so easy, when they had slain so many?
He was jolted from staring at the two corpses when another member of his clan leaped into the pit next to him.
"Karyu! You must hurry! Come! Their heart is laid bare for us!" the blood-soaked daughter of the olo'eyktan shouted at him, pointing to the dark building further inside the tawtute's unnatural home. Several others were already firing their bows at the tawtute defending it, and she was urging more to follow.
Gulping, he grabbed the edge of the dirt wall, preparing to haul himself up and follow the others, when the ground began to shake.
The eerie howling of the tawtute resumed their voices unnaturally loud, even amidst the cacophony of their weapons.
There! His eyes snapped to the base of the stone building, Something large!
A voice boomed across the battlefield, loud enough to rattle the teeth within his jaw,"Wir sind Deutsch Krieger! Wir sind Ihr Alptraum!"
With that incomprehensible bellow, a host of nightmares emerged from the darkness. He had heard tales of great machines, in the shapes of people, which the tawtute used for war. He had always assumed the stories were just that, stories.
He had been wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.
A scream tore from his throat as the mechanical beasts charged towards them, and his scream increased as they entered the lights from the burning fires.
"Vrttep!" the word came from a dozen throats.
Each was an image from a nightmare, the charging monstrosity in front had the appearance of a skeleton given life, the horribly grinning skull leering at them as its weapon roared.
His courage failed him utterly as they stormed forwards, several didn't bother shooting their weapons at the people before them, simply batting them aside like toys, crushing the wounded underfoot.
Scrambling back across the tawtute's pit, he ignored the shouts for bravery, he ran for the safety of the jungle.
One cannot fight demons! He thought furiously as he leaped out of the thin line, his feet blurring as he ran. His bow lay forgotten behind him.
The voice shouting for bravery and courage suddenly transitioned into a scream. He ran harder.
His feet had just reached the edge of the jungle when something slammed into his shoulder. He turned to snarl at the skxawng who had shoved him. There was no one there. His body felt cold, and when he looked at his shoulder, he gaped. His right arm was gone, only splintered bone and torn flesh remained. Pain slammed through his chest at the sight of it. He tried to scream, but the breath wouldn't come.
The soil felt hard beneath him as he collapsed. Then everything turned to darkness.
Date: 0330, May 27th, 2170
Location: Ops-Center, Tartarus, Pandora, Alpha Centauri A System
"Get firefighting teams to the defenses now!" Parker shouted, "Get medics out there too!"
The Ops-Center was in chaos, everyone struggling to restore order to the wreck that was the northern defense line.
The natives had begun to fall back after Weigand's charge had broken their assault, and the AMPs had cleared the trench line without losing any of their number. The damage had been done, however, to both the American engineers and the German airmen.
Of Valkyrie Kampfgruppe, only a burn-scarred Brunhilde and a trio of battered Samsons returned to the airfield. Preliminary reports indicated that Jones' Präriewolf Kampgruppe wasn't in much better shape, with easily a quarter of his people down, and god alone knew how many wounded.
Which left only the Russian Bär Kampfgruppe, huddled in their bunker complexes, the only full-strength force remaining. And in less than two hours, Sully and his merry band would be hitting Kozlov at full force.
He swore out loud, and kept shouting orders. Their nightmare of a day had only just begun.
Next up is Chapter 33: Lucifer's Stand
The longest chapter by far, because I couldn't resist going into detail in the action. Wasn't originally going to do the Na'vi pov shot, but since people asked for it, I thought about it and realized it fit in fairly well, being better than simply shifting to Parker to witness the charge as I had originally planned.
As I've changed up the character points of view, I'm going to let you all know i'm changing it up completely. Patel and Selfridge won't be having their own chapters anymore, instead you'll find both of their PoV's in the same chapters as the plot continues to progress. Rest assured, though OC's did get a long of screen time, and will keep getting it as the battle rages, those two are still the main characters.
Hope everyone enjoyed it, glad, as always, for the reviews I've been getting.
Please keep reviewing, bonus points to new reviewers!
Review Responses:
Mindteller: songs? As in Ride of the Valkyries style, or as in what happened before, with the na'vi singing a war chant before they attacked? I'm a huge fan of music for combat, so you might see one or both in the following chapters.
coranth / angleus288: hope you liked it ;).