Mutatis Mutandis 22
The Talon company struck first. On Jackrum's order the Fatman nuke launchers around the base opened up, raining nuclear fire on the tightly clustered mutant campfires. The response was both immediate and fierce. Gunfire rattled against Fort Bannister's defenses, killing more mercenaries than Jackrum had expected. However the volleys more than happily returned by the Talon company did impressive amounts of damage to the horde. Not that they could tell; it still looked as endless as it had the day the Mutants had first surrounded the base.
During the first two minutes of the fight, the opposing forces were relatively evenly matched. Though most of the mercenaries were younger, they were well disciplined. Jackrum had made a point of putting one or two veterans in each fire team. As he had looked to the experienced men during his first years as a merc, so too were the recruits following his lead, and those of the other Veterans. They had been well trained, and had been rehearsing their defensive strategies since the mutant invasion began. Many of the Fort's fire positions were mutually supportive, and of course the mini-nuke and rocket launchers, allowed the dispersal of any organized assaults.
The mutants, as usual, were disorganized and tactically inept. If Jackrum were to have assaulted the base, he would have moved his men up in loose formations to prevent groups from being targeted by mortars. He would have had snipers and miniguns provide covering fire to suppress the base's defenses. Then he would have had armoured mutants, or perhaps the behemoths, breach the Fort's vulnerable points. Move in with assault rifles, grenadiers, and hunting rifles in order to clean house. The Fort would not have withstood a properly organized attack. Instead, lacking a leader, the mutants just charged. A few of the smarter ones were still firing at the fort, but not enough to prevent the strategy from simply turning into a useless banzai charge. The field was littered with mutant corpses, slowing the approach of future waves.
The fight was even, until the Behemoths recovered. A few had missed the Talon Company's initial mortar strikes, and charged, bellowing furiously. They stampeded forwards, trampling more than a few of their own troops in the process. They kicked up storm of wasteland dust, obscuring both parties, though it caused far more trouble for the mercs, who were unable to pinpoint mutant groups.
Four of the giants vaulted over the barricades and began to lay the defenders to waste, using their clubs and feet to crush entire fireteams. Jackrum did his best to counter, using his reserves to bring two of the behemoths down while the main mercenary forces held the mutant army at bay, however his precarious strategy fell apart the moment the last behemoth to leap over the wall tripped.
The enormous abomination hit the earth with a resounding tremor that shook the entire base. Its ankles, hooked on the steel wall, had dragged down an entire strip of defenses, creating a wide breach nearly twenty meters across. A breach the mutant forces immediately targeted. With two angry behemoths still inside the base, and the third rapidly recovering from its fall, he had little resources with which to counter the mutant horde which was suddenly flowing towards the vulnerable base.
Jason came out guns blazing. The roars of the Behemoths were audible even underground, and he came out with the Xuanlong assault rifle at the ready. Within a fraction of a second, he had taken stock of the battlefield which the interior of Fort Bannister had become, and knew where he was needed; at the breach, instead of fighting the Behemoths. Fireteams had converged on the opening, trying to hold back the savage tide of mutants, and he moved towards them as fast as he could. The corpse of a behemoth had fallen across the entryway, downed by a lucky missile strike to the side of its head. The brain matter had oozed out, forming a disgusting pool around the ingress point. While effective as cover for the defenders, it certainly wouldn't stop the advancing hordes from overrunning the base.
The amount of incoming fire was staggering. The air was thick with bullets and lasers flying back and for the. Gunsmoke drifted across the battlefield, obscuring the vision of both armies, and exponentially multiplying the chaos. Yet upon his appearance, the defenders seemed to redouble their own efforts. Clearly fighting side by side with the Lone Wanderer was of huge benefit to their rapidly draining morale, but the problem with Morale was that it made a poor weapon. Bullets were always more effective. Jason held there for a good three minutes, trying to ignore the roars of the behemoths behind him, and the screams of the dying Mercenaries across the length of the base. Outside, the mutie lines were less than thirty yards, and advancing steadily. For every green abomination Jason took down, at least two were there to take up the slack as the Supermutant noose slowly tightened around the last remaining bastion of humanity.
Narg calmly strolled up the steps, surveyed the battlefield which was formerly Fort Bannister, and sighed. The Behemoths had broken through, taking out a sizeable chunk of the defensive wall along the way. The Talon Company had managed to down the beast, creating a fairly effective piece of cover. The young Wanderer was there, doing yeoman service holding back the mutie tide. But he was clearly losing. Badly. Across the base, the remaining behemoths were throwing the human defenses into chaos. The most alarming one was within the crumbling concrete ruins at the northern end of the base; where the Talon Commander was stationed. The company's water tower had already fallen, turning the surface of the fastest approach to compound to mud; possibly his only weakness. Soft soil was very difficult to maneuver in while wearing power armour.
The Chosen One was forced to shake his head in disgust. It was disgraceful, really. When on earth would people learn how to fight? He had to remind himself that the Talon Company had a two-fold agenda. Yes, they had to fight, but their force was small, with no reinforcements on the horizon, casualties would have to be kept to a minimum. There had to be enough people left to rebuild afterwards.
He caught a group of young mercenaries lugging a fatman across the center of the fort, and gently confiscated a mininuke, gripping it by the tailfins. None of the terrified mercenaries seemed in shape to argue with him, as he was nearly a foot taller than any of them.
The nearest supermutant behemoth was in the center of a ring of collapsed tents, being assaulted on all sides by a dozen mercenaries. The Chosen One adjusted his grip, holding the mininuke like a football, and gave the projectile a strong, overhead throw. It rose into the air, arcing high over the heads of the embattled mercenaries and striking the roaring behemoth in the shoulder. Blood and flesh rained down upon the battlefield as the mutant's arm vanished in a flower of bright nuclear fire. The mutant stumbled sideways and landed on the broken tents, clutching impotently at the gaping wound in its throat as liters of mutant blood stained the ground around it. The mercenaries fighting took the opportunity to finish it off.
Answering roar shook the battlefield as the monstrosity laying waste to the command center answered the pleas of its wounded brother. The behemoth tore its way out of the concrete structure and through the Fort's muddy, cratered-filled interior. It stampeded towards Narg, kicking clods dirt meters into the air behind it. The abomination roared triumphantly as it brandished its enormous club. The Talon Mercenaries around him backed away as fast as they could, leaving him open in the ring of tents.
Unconcerned, the Chosen One simply shrugged his Avenger minigun off of his shoulder and opened up on the mutant, targeting the monster's knees. Hollowpoint bullets hit the mutant's kneecaps at thirty rounds per second, flaying the skin, muscles, and sinew from the mutants very bones. Twenty meters from its target, the mutant staggered. At ten meters, it dropped to the ground, roaring in agony. Somewhere behind Narg, he could hear the answering call of the final behemoth, somewhere in the southern corner of the fort.
The mutant in front of him brought its club down in one final valiant attempt to end his life, but Narg dodged quickly to the right and raced forward, his power armour giving him the strength needed to scamper up the enormous mutant's thigh. At seven feet tall, Narg was standing at eye-level with the growling monster. He drew his fist back and threw all of his enhanced strength into a single punch, ramming his fist through the mutant's gelatinous eyeball, and into the brain beyond. The giant twitched spasmodically, but was still alive. Gripping the inside of the mutie's skull with his right hand, he unslung his BOZAR assault rifle with his left and opened fire, emptying an entire clip of hollowpoint rounds point-blank into the mutie's brain. Slowly, like an ancient tree, it crashed to the ground, dead.
Narg barely had time to move before he heard a roar from behind. Two enormous hands wrapped around him, squeezing tightly and lifting him high into the air. His BOZAR fell from his grip, disappearing into oblivion.
The behemoth lifted the enormous soldier high into the air, bellowing at him as dozens of lines of yellow tracer rounds perforated its toughened skin. The Talon mercs who had initially backed off had returned, bolstered by his single-handed victory over one of the Behemoths. The extra firepower slowed the monster down, but it didn't stop it. Caught in its ever-tightening grip, Narg struggled to get an arm free. The mutant opened its gaping mouth, exposing its victim to a claustrophobic view of yellow teeth and blackened gums. Foul, rotten breath assaulted his nostrils, making him gag and choke.
A missile hit the Mutant's elbow, breaking its grip. Narg dropped to the ground fifteen feet below, banging his jaw painfully against the inside of his helmet. Yet again, as he had done so many times over the decades, he thanked whatever god was on his side for having him run across armour as protective as the Mark II Advanced Armour. The Behemoth was stomping across the battlefield, laying waste roared in rage and agony, clutching the stricken limb.
Narg followed the path of the missile all the way back to Commander Jonathon Rumsfeld, standing in the ruins of his command center. Smoke trailed from both his cigar, and the missile launcher on his shoulder. The Merc leader handed the launcher to his bloodied assistant, and pulled out the Chinese assault rifle slung across his back. "Drive'em back, boys!" he called out.
From behind him, beyond the dusty veil covering his command center charged the remaining Talon Company reserves, followed by the surviving wastelanders, all yelling as they pounded across the fort towards the breach. The mutant hordes were there as well, stuck in vicious hand to hand combat with the defending mercenaries. Not a tenable position for the isolated group of Mercenaries, who were very quickly finding themselves being overrun. The Wanderer was with them, trying to lay down as much fire as he could, buying the fleeing survivors some time to escape.
Narg joined the last of the human survivors as they swept across the base, roaring in defiance. He veered towards the Wanderer, who was pinned behind a low ruined wall, trying to keep a couple greenhorns from getting gunned down by the three Overlords on the other side; the furthest mutant incursion into the Fort. As the Chosen One cleared the dwindling cover, the Wanderer joined him and they charged towards the advancing supermutant flood.
Narg reached the enemy first and let out a joyful howl as he tackled the nearest monster to the ground, putting his fist through its face. A sledgehammer hit him in the back, sending him skittering forward a meter along the dirt surface. The Overlord wound up for a second strike, but found its grip failing as the Wanderer carefully sliced the tendons in its arm. It turned on him, and got a dozen assault rifle rounds to the throat.
All around them, the Talon Company were regaining lost ground. Assault rifle toting wasters were finding cover in the war-torn ruins, laying down suppressing fire to drive the bulk of the mutant forces back through the whole. Teams of heavily armoured mercenaries advanced with combat shotguns to pick up the outliers and the stragglers. Miniguns and missile launchers taken from the hands of the dead -mutant and human alike- were pressed into service, adding to the Talon Company's firepower.
Narg pressed forward, bullets pinging off of his armour as he cut a bloody swath through the mutant horde, towards the breach. The Wanderer had disappeared, but Narg spotted him a few moments later, crouched on a nearby pile of rubble. He had acquired a sniper rifle somewhere, and was putting it to excellent use, trying to take down the miniguns, tri-beam rifles and missile launchers before the mutants used them to break the sudden human offensive.
On the far side of the breach, Narg could see wasters and mercenaries working diligently to close the gap and make the fort's defenses whole again. He turned back to the wreckage and began to tear out slabs of concrete, using his power armour-enhanced strength to give the humans back some amount of cover as the breach slowly closed. All mutants were either dead, dying, or fleeing back down the path to reform their shattered battle lines. A few Masters had taken command of the scattered forces, but their intellect was not all that far ahead of their brethren, and every time one of them began shouting orders, the Wanderer would remove him from the battlefield, throwing the mutants into further disarray.
The entire arrangement gave the wastelanders a moment's respite. In the Fort, medics were racing back and forth across the battlefield, trying to keep up with the agonized screams of the wounded. A few mercenaries were moving among the scattered dead, finishing off wounded muties and helping whomever they could, however they could.
Jackrum, bloodied but unbowed, was marching through the crowds of humans, issuing orders and putting his own men back together. By Narg's estimation, the mutants had lost just under half of their foot soldiers, along with all of their behemoths. Rarely had he ever been a part of large battles. There generally weren't enough people left for the kind of numbers he was witnessing here. Until running into the Cole, he had worked alone for decades, all of his friends either having died or left. Working as part of a unified force was an interesting experience, and he found himself feeling a fair amount of hope and sympathy for the native population. He himself would make it out safe, he knew. He had fought through far worse situations without much trouble, but he wondered, even if they won, would the Wasters have the people left to rebuild?
The Mutants weren't the only side to lose people. Narg was not sure what losses the Talon Company had endured. The first clash had left both sides severely wounded. Yet Humanity had the upper hand. The Mercs had lost foot soldiers. The Muties had lost foot soldiers, their leader, and their heavy hitters. To top it all off, their position on the battlefield had not changed at all. Their lines were in exactly the same place they had been before the battle had started. Bolstered by their victory, what remained of the Capital Wastelanders gathered at the walls of Fort Bannister armed, united, and ready to face the next wave.
Lol, anyone remember this? It's a thing that's still going..
I may have overpowered Narg's combat armour a little, but fuck it. Rule of cool. I wanted the Chosen One to have a very different way of operating.
This chapter took a very long time because I was running into writer's block with every sentence I wrote. I wrote more in the past two days than I have in weeks. I have a plan for the next set of chapters, and I know this is going to sound like a hollow promise, but I hope to get them out soon.
Big battles are difficult to write. There's a proper balance to be struck between action and story, and it's very difficult to set the pace of large fights like this.
I know what remains of the interrogation scene was skipped. I might add something later, or I might not. Either way I don't think it'll change the story at all from here on in which probably means it's unnecessary.
Anywho I hope you all are enjoying Mother's day! And all my thanks to Krow Blood for pestering me to keep my nose at the grindstone!