by Mark Wandrey
"It's not my fault you can't repel to save your life." There was another thunderous crash and some more weapons fire, both the crack of beamcasters and Bzzzaaar of the Rasa flechette guns. "No more gunfire from the boys, only beamcasters. We're running out of time." She finished what she was working on and snatched her first aid kit. She drew out a syringe dispenser and leaned over his ankle.
"I hate this," Pip moaned and looked away as she plunged it in his calf muscle. He gave out a little squeak as the needle pierced the skin.
"Honestly," she said and rolled her eyes as his rector of pain turned to a contented grin when the drugs kicked in. Removing another device she began spraying his lower leg and foot. The bluish goo instantly dried and formed a cast. Between the field cast and the additional buzz, he quickly got to his feet.
"Good as new!" he crowed. She didn't bother telling him what kind of damage he might be doing under cloak of buzz. Better to save that for later. Just like her ravaged calf, there would be a price to pay.
"Okay,” she said and began slinging the results of their work over her shoulders, “here we go."
***
Julast 13th, 518 AE – 14:58
Warehouse 11, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Only a few meters away Gregg and Aaron squatted behind a gravitic cargo lift. They both breathed heavily from their ordeal of running back and forth across the warehouse while using precious shots from their nearly depleted beamcasters to harass the Rasa. Already the alien soldiers were losing patience with the game and trying to rush them. The two didn't fire directly at the soldiers. On the power setting they were using it was ineffective overkill. Instead they aimed at crates and the floor. Crates sometimes exploded (often spectacularly) to cause many injuries or even block a pathway. The floor of ceramic concrete would shatter to create deadly shrapnel, or splash molten concrete to burn and maim,. The holes left behind could sometimes trip more soldiers, breaking bones or just further slowing progress.
The pair just managed a quick power theft from the forklift, enough power for an extra shot each. "Two left," Aaron said.
"Same here," Gregg agreed. "I hope she's ready."
"Doesn't matter if she isn't." He turned to run for the next isle and almost lost his head. Luckily the flechette guns were not aimed like most weapons. The users employed them like a fire hose. He heard the weapon open up and saw sparks flying just in front of him. He stooped and dropped into a running roll, the burst passing just over his head. Gregg saw the attack and cut sideways, away from the buzzing death and right into a squad of Rasa. They were more surprised than he was. He skidded to a stop and fired twice from the hip at point blank range. The hapless soldiers had no idea what happened to them, they simply exploded. The other four raised their weapons as Gregg screamed a primal yell and dove into them, swinging the empty beamcaster like a club into the helmet of the closest.
The Rasa were unwilling to open up with the flechette guns for risk of hitting their own, and he used that momentary hesitation to his advantage, wresting a gun from their hands. He couldn't risk trying to figure out how to fire the gun, he just smashed the surprised owner in the face with it instead. The three Rasa still on their feet set on him with razor sharp claws and snapping teeth. One quickly clamped down on the arm holding the confiscated gun. He yelled and dropped the weapon. Another raked with claws at his neck. Gregg jerked back enough that the claws missed their mark and only gouged three deep cuts down his cheek.
Gregg drew his knife in a flash and nearly decapitated the soldier clamped on his arm then fell back into a crouch. He was in danger of the last two trying to go back to their guns. They took his stance as a challenge and rushed him with claws out. He grabbed the first outstretched clawed hand with his off hand and pulled the soldier off balance, bringing a knee up with crushing force onto its long jaw. The second one tried to come at him around his stunned comrade. Gregg brought the leg he'd just used down and pivoted on it, snapping his other foot out. He aimed for what would have been a humans stomach and caught the Rasa in the neck instead, feeling the bones snap on impact and watching it fall like a sack of potatoes. He cut the throat on the one he'd kneed in the face and turned to run for all he was worth. More were coming already, a lot of them by the sound of it.
Gregg sprinted around the corner of an isle and almost collided with Aaron. A sleeve of Aaron's jumpsuit was torn completely off and blood ran freely from a number of gouges. They'd both been brawling with Rasa. Flechette guns and beamcasters opened up from behind and they both dodge wildly as they turned the final corner. The Rasa, not needing to dodge, were gaining precipitously. Just a few meters away Pip and Minu waited behind a line of one meter tall crates, waving and frantically urging them to hurry up. There was no time for subtlety as Aaron and Gregg ran for all they were worth and jumped over the crates. All around them flechette darts sparked on the shields they'd given Pip and Minu. Several beamcasters cut brilliant lines of blue white light as the shields struggled to divert the massive energy.
Minu and Pip stood their ground as Gregg and Aaron flew past. This was the riskiest part of the gambit, and she'd known it from the beginning. Should the Rasa stay back and engage them with their beamcasters at range, she was in trouble. She was counting on her cold blooded enemies to be driven into a hot blooded rage by the constant harassment her two friends had administered over the last twenty minutes. It was one big calculated risk from beginning to end, including making sure the Rasa saw them leap through the shield. If they thought the humans had a forcefield they were sure to attack at range.
"Come one," she pleaded to them quietly. Several more beamcaster bolts hit the shield. Pip jumped slightly while she held her ground. They both held a handgun at the ready. The Rasa stopped firing, looking with very reptilian curiosity. Why were the stupid humans just standing there? "Come on!" Minu screamed and held up her middle finger. More Rasa were coming in by the moment, some pointing and hissing, others looking around in confusion. The humans had no exit, they were trapped. Easy prey.
"Kill them with your claws," one of the Rasa soldiers hissed loudly, “taste their flesh!” And they charged with a hissing roar.
Minu and Pip waited as the Rasa raced across the intervening meters. When they were halfway she and Pip sat the pistols on the crates. The lead soldiers obviously thought the humans were giving up and hissed in glee. This vendetta was revenge for what was done to their outpost, no quarter would be given. Since the humans weren't going to defend themselves, they would be torn limb from limb.
"Now," Minu said. As one Aaron and Gregg popped up, both holding a newly finished Shock Rifle. Minu and Pip each raised theirs as well from where they'd hung on slings along their sides, just behind their hips. Shock registered on the front line of Rasa as the humans fired the new weapons.
Bzzzsnaap! Bzzzsnaap! The Shock Rifles of all four Chosen volley fired over and over. The cycle rate was easily five times that of the beamcasters and reminded Minu more of M-1s from old earth WWII movies. And unlike the more devastating overkill of the beamcasters, the Rasa just toppled like ninepins. One after another screeched and fell over as the new guns did their jobs with deadly precision. Most of the victims seemed to just fall over from little puffs of smoke, evidence of the tunneling laser ablating through armor and scales. Others had their chests rupture explosively as internal organs boiled or heads exploded like melons. The Shock Rifle firing cycle was so fast it was nothing more than a quarter second pulse of brilliant light. "All you're really seeing is the plasma discharge," Pip said during bench testing months ago.
This wasn't a bench test, these were the ultimate culmination of Minu's idea and they worked to deadly effect. In less than ten seconds the four Chosen swept the entire end of the warehouse clear leaving a heaving pile dead or dying Rasa. Many never got the chance to return fire or try to flee.
"Wow," Gregg said and looked down at the weapon. The main needle sharp emitter, where the muzzle would have been on a firearm, was smoking
slightly. No heat like the beamcasters, and no horrible recoil.
Dozens more Rasa were racing away, skittering for the exit as fast as their legs would carry them. "Pip, the jammer, now!"
"It's not a jammer," Pip said. Minu spun and smashed the butt stock of her Shock Rifle down on the device, smashing it to pieces. He shrieked and dove on the remains. Obviously the buzz was not being kind to the diminutive scientist.
Back by the entrance they could hear shouted hisses and more weapons fire. Then the sound of panicked Rasa running back toward them. Minu raised her gun and vaulted the crate. "Time to clean this lot up."
"Over ninety percent charge remaining," Aaron said as he examined the displays.
"That low?" Pip said and looked skeptically at his own, "Must be something wrong with the calibration." He went back to salvaging the remnants of the PUFF, all the time mumbling incoherently.
"Come on," Minu snapped, "we can do a postmortem later." They each slung two additional rifles over their shoulders. It wasn't difficult, they only weighed five kilograms apiece. Aaron took five and Gregg four. With Minu in the lead and the four of them spread out they moved toward the exit, firing intermittently as they went. A dozen teams of Rasa were still in different parts of the warehouse, most unaware of what was happening and confused why their communications were down, others knew very well what was happening and were trying desperately to fall back or hide. Wherever they were, the Shock Rifles found them eventually.
As they approached the door they started finding dead soldiers who hadn't been shot. They were being attacked in force by a small army of loader crab-bots. Not as deadly or armored like those the Rasa used, but there were dozens of them and they were just as bent on blood, thanks to Pip's reprogramming. Minu whooped to see the Rasa's tactics turned against them. They watched for a moment and Minu imagined new combat tactics. Pip came up behind them cradling the remnants of his PUFF and looking like a mourner at a funeral.
"I need you to get it together Pip," Minu said, “damn it this isn't over yet.”
"You owe me for this,” he said accusingly as if she'd killed his pet.
"Okay, fine. Can we finish shooting the bad guys now?"
The team moved forward using sporadic fire to finish off the Rasa the bots had missed. There were not very many. As they reached the doors they encountered their first challenge. A squad of the heavily armored Rasa maneuvered some cargo crates outside and were using them for cover. They also cut loose with beamcasters as soon as Minu popped her head out. The energy beam blasted into her shield and turned bright blue. There wasn't much capacity left. Luckily she wouldn't need it. Behind her Gregg and Aaron dropped to one knee, braced their Shock Rifles and fired. The Rasa's heavy armor was no more useful than the others soldiers light armor. Five shots, five dead Rasa.
Survivors broke into full retreat, Minu and Pip fired at their backs. The four advanced through the ruined door, and once Gregg and Aaron joined in the lawn was swept clean. Those still alive ran toward the building, retracing their steps in an all-out retreat. The friends walked at a steady pace, shooting the retreating Rasa soldiers in the back as they tried to flee.
Only Pip fell behind. Halfway across the lawn to the smoking Steven’s Pass building he looked around. There were dozens of dead Rasa soldiers strewn on the grass making a trail toward the facility. Already Minu and the guys were climbing up the cable they'd used to run for their lives. The drugs in his system were beginning to weaken, the pain in his ankle started to return and the feeling of euphoria he'd been riding on began to fade. He sat down on the grass and sobbed. Nearby, a Rasa soldier was gasping and trying to breath, a huge hole in its torso showed smoking ruins where once organs had been. It reached for him, eyes surprisingly expressive in its agony. Pip moved closer, his human compassion getting the better of him. There was a shimmer as he moved close enough for the alien to be inside his shield. The Rasa raised his flechette gun and fired.
Chapter 8
Julast 13th, 518 AE – 15:10
Science Branch, Chosen Headquarters, Steven’s Pass
Minu was first through the destroyed wall, rolling in and coming up on one knee with her shockrifle raised. A turtle-bot sat near the doorway, its shield glimmering. She felt a thrill of fear race through her. How would the Shock Rifle react to a shield? It lacked the raw punch of a beamcaster. The turtle-bots twin flechette guns began to swivel toward her and she fired, stroking the trigger as fast as she could. She needn't have worried. The first shot passed through the shield like it wasn't there, burning through the bots armor and releasing a millions volts of wild plasma into its insides. The bot twitched once and exploded.
"That was different," Aaron said, only his head sticking over the edge of the hole.
"Yeah," Minu agreed, "I wasn't expecting that. Pip can figure it out. Where is he?"
The two guys were clambering in through the hole. Gregg leaned back out and turned around, shaking his head. "He's out there lying in the grass. Looks like he passed out."
"Drug must have worn off," Aaron said. Minu nodded, it made sense.
The three friends made their way down the hall, using their Shock Rifles to dispatch any bots they came across. There were no living Rasa here. In no time they were at the field breaching mechanism overlooking the courtyard. They all leaned out and saw piles of Rasa bodies with two heavy defensive works assembled from dualloy and shields. Behind those defensive works crouched a few dozen Rasa, all waiting. Occasionally one would fire a beamcaster or a bolt would hit their shield.
"I wonder what they're waiting for?" Aaron asked no one in particular.
"Who cares?" Gregg said. All three leaned out and opened fire.
As with the turtle-bot, their Shock Rifle ignored the shields and Rasa began to fall. The lack of spectacular explosions and massive energy beams allowed the three Chosen to kill almost half the enemy before they realized what was happening. When they finally did, the three Chosen's shields provided enough defense for them to finish off the enemy before they could mount an effective retreat, or surrender.
"Come on," Minu encouraged them and jumped on the floating platform the Rasa used to carry them up to the third floor mezzanine, "we're almost there." They followed as figured out the simple controls. The platform lowered them to ground level and they could finally see into the lower floor of the complex for the first time since the fight began. The field here was breached as well. The hallway was crowded with Rasa and human bodies leading away toward the front exit. It was immediately obvious that the Chosen were making a last stand by the atrium right in front of the exit. Weapons fire was being exchanged at a furious rate. The Rasa sensing victory, were completely unaware that they were being flanked.
Minu checked the portal. It was still active showing a vast plain now devoid of life. It was early evening on that world and the fields of grass were heavily trampled. "Aaron, watch the portal, just to be sure." He nodded his head and took up a position where he could observe the portal and also be ready to help if needed. "Let's finish this." Gregg moved in close to share their shields. Side by side they began pushing into the rear of the Rasa formation.
It was a replay of the courtyard moments earlier. The Rasa only realized they were under attack from behind when their numbers were halved. The middle of their formation wheeled around to return fire and came under heavy attack from the Chosen in the atrium. Whoever was in charge of the Rasa realized it was over. Almost as one they threw their weapons down and dropped to their bellies. Minu yelled "Cease fire! Cease fire!"
Slowly, the bloody and bandaged remnants of the Chosen who'd defended the bottom floor came out to realize the battle was won. Slowly at first, a cheer began and grew in intensity. Minu looked around her at the carnage, the floor awash in blood and bodies. She remembered the writings of a general many hundred years ago. "And now we have to pay the butchers bill."
"Minu, you did it." She looked up and saw Dram. His left arm hung useless and bloody, one of Gregg and Aaron's
huge guns held in his right. Two more were in his belt and a scant few magazines remained. She nodded and unslung a new Shock Rifle, handing it to him. He stuck his handgun in his waistband with the others and took the weapon, turning it over in his one good hand and examining it. Minu checked her own gun. It still showed almost a twenty percent charge remaining. She'd lost count of how many hundred times she'd fired it. A careful diagnostic later would reveal its true efficiency.
More Chosen approached and accepted the extra rifles Gregg and Aaron carried. "There are twenty more in warehouse eleven assembled and ready to go," she told them.
Jacob was in Jasmine's office. It was converted to a makeshift medical bay where dozens of Chosen lay moaning in pain, or still in death. Dr. Tasker was working on Jacob's leg, nearly severed at the knee by flechette darts. He was among the lucky ones. More than a few were missing entire limbs. Dr. Bane was going to be busy providing cybernetic limbs.
"How did you manage it?" Jacob asked as he examined Minu's Shock Rifle. He carefully noted the design, the way it felt in his hands (shouldering it from where he lay and aiming at the ceiling), how the controls worked.
"Well, two years ago on a mission to Serengeti, I had a chance to make a deal." She explained how Cherise and her got the device from the Beezer warehouse manager. It was a fabricator, designed to manufacture custom photronic systems for small scale applications. You would configure it to make a component and as long as it was fed raw material and power it would crank out finished goods. This one was new, never configured. A very valuable find since once configured, they could never be changed.
Jacob gave her a disappointed look then his gaze fell on the weapon once more. "The men tell me this is one fantastic gun."