That glorified frontline soldier won't do much good if his weapons are broken, his clothing is falling apart, and he is stuck on the other side of the city from where the fighting is. Supplying troops with equipment and transportation, maintaining—or creating—infrastructure, and providing routes and transportation for civilians to flee active combat zones: all of these things are necessary to field an effective fighting force. And in the age of the antithesis, all too often those needs are stressed to the breaking point in the face of an active incursion. It's a good thing, then, that many civilians are ready to step up and offer their assistance in such situations, in ways that they rarely, if ever, did during historical conflict."
--Colonel Raphael Hernendez, Royal Canadian Logistics Service, during the global incursion.
***
During the exchange, one of the Chibat’s took flight with an aerosol canister, and in the mini-map, several blurs behind me condensed into clusters of dots. I decided to trust the team to let me know about trouble coming.
As I slotted in the new magazine, the kick meter in my visor maxed out. After checking that no one stood behind me, I took a modified stance, half runner’s starting crouch and half lying on the log forming the pocket. I laid the crosshairs on the centermost of the units behind the M-15es and M-8, squeezed the rifle tight to my shoulder, let out a breath, and fired.
The butt of the rifle lifted me up, and I slammed into a tree trunk at the back of the firing position. The branch I’d broken on the way crashed further into the brush, while the stump pummeled my kidney. Fiery pain flashed over my back, then faded, and I heard someone snicker nearby. I turned and glared at Tarkin. He, however, was focused on the valley down below us.
On the battlefield, the chaos increased, with Fives and Threes, which had been rushing the frontline of humans, turning around to attack the models that had been supporting the Fifteens. I braced with a tree behind my shoulder for the second shot, aiming for a large clump making for the central lines. The tree held, and my shoulder did too, but I decided that flying was better than being squished between an immovable object and an irresistible force.
Next, I hit a group of M-6 standing in the middle of the road. I couldn’t hear their whistling over the distance, but since they didn’t move much, I assumed they formed a command post coordinating the efforts of the small fry on that side. Soon they were too busy dying at the hands of their former subordinates to issue more orders. The scent lingered, coating any antithesis that entered the area, so even as a newcomer attacked the Anti’s in the area, the ones coming behind would attack it.
That was effective enough that I sent the final two rounds in the mag to other densely packed areas closer to the gap where more aliens rushed through. With each shot, I shifted my posture, absorbing more of the kickback and not getting tossed about as much.
Two more Mobile Hives, and another M-14 pushed into the gap.
[“Last of the biggies are in the gap. All that’s left in town is some worms and small fry.”] My mini-map showed that Tara has moved the Albatrosses out over Doty proper and west towards where the hive sat.
I passed on the info in the Samurai chat, adding, “But I don’t know about burrowing models; I haven’t seen any yet.”
“I had a couple Model Eighteens try to ambush me.” A new voice, probably RAV, said. “After that I dropped some sensors. We’re clear.”
“Dropping some slow killers on those M-22s and the M-14. No reason to worry about plugging up the gap now.”
“I’ll be swinging in towards them soon. I’m almost cleared here on the west slope.”
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The magazine of very large rounds dropped into my waiting hand, and I lined up for my shot. I hit each mobile hive with a Kill Me round, followed by three desiccant rounds spread out and painting the left M-22 in yellow dust.
The Rampage went to the M-14, which was better at offense. It obliged me by turning to cut its way to one of the hives. The other M-22 I coated in more of the yellow desiccant dust. I finished up with the last of the Kill Me on the hives again, ensuring a healthy covering in the scent. Their deaths all but certain, I sat back and watched the show.
Back at the frontline, the M-22 finally took a series of missiles from Gangnam, finishing it and a host of the small fry that had been attacking it. The M-15’s first turned on the two of their own with Kill Me on them, then on the other small fry. That triggered a defense mechanism in the plants, which made those M-15es targets, and they all soon fratricided each other or fell to packs of single-digit models.
Back at the gap, the M-14 had hamstrung one of the hives and was making good work on removing the whole leg when a small figure jumped up on the same hive and started hacking at it with a hammer-backed axe. A sea of purple washed over the area as RAV claimed it for Samurai action in CILS.
The hive shifted under the Samurai, trying to bash the much smaller human ineffectually. RAV saw the move coming and adjusted his stance without slowing his blows. Next, the hive released its latest batch of models, several half-developed M-3s, but these turned on their birthing plant, any commands overridden by the pheromone compulsion. After a few seconds, RAV tossed a couple of grenades into the hole he’d made and jumped to the other hive, spanning fifteen meters in a single bound. As the muted explosions sounded, all the smaller antithesis near RAV swiveled their heads in the same direction as his leap.
As RAV landed on the last hive, an M-4 absently lashed out at him between blows on the mobile hive, knocking RAV’s legs out from under him. The human rolled with the fall along the back of the Twenty-Two and ended in a spring to his feet just short of one of the patches of yellow desiccant. His axe lit on fire with bright blue flames as he sliced the M-4 in half and then sprinted towards his ride’s head.
“That is so cool!” one of the troopers said, and I absently nodded in agreement. But my attention was on the small fry, who shifted towards the remaining mobile hive.
[“How is he doing those flames, Corie?”] Kaitlyn asked.
[“I can’t say with certainty. There are several methods to create flames like that, some more effective than others.”]
Tara had a Dragonfly focusing on the fight now, and I pulled that camera up on my visor as I started moving along the ridge towards the gap. The M-14 also abandoned its dead chew toy and followed RAV to the last active hive. Behind it I could see a large swarm of small fry.
Meanwhile, Gangnam’s missiles thumped across the rest of the battlefield.
“Do you want some help there, RAV?” I asked on the Samurai channel. The large aliens hadn’t been claimed in CILS.
RAV replied with a guttural growl that spoke of nothing but primal fury.
“Let him finish them himself,” Gangnam said. “Trust me, it’s better if he works it off. It frustrates him to no end to run out of something to direct his rage at.”
The Fourteen had finally reached the M-22 and attacked, clamping down on the larger model’s back with its pincers. RAV hacked at the back of the neck, and chunks of flesh flew aside. His rhythm was broken frequently by side swings to eviscerate an M-3 or two that leaped at him.
“Yeah, well, how does he do with endless hordes of small fry?” I asked as I sprinted along the ridge road. “He’s coated in pheromone attractant from rolling on that hive. Every antithesis from half the battlefield is going to be gunning for him.”
“He should be fine. He’s second generation, and while he hasn’t been a Samurai too long, he has a lot of knowledge to pull from.” Gangnam replied with a relaxed drawl, clearly unconcerned.
“I’m moving to where I can support him anyway. He’s set CILS to block any of the troopers from helping. We’re all the backup he’s got.” I found that the ridge road ended about sixty meters from the point that looked straight down into the gap. I pushed on, fighting through the undergrowth and clambering over fallen trees.
The mobile hive looked pretty rough now. Like the first one, it wasn’t flexible enough to attack him directly, and with the heavy coating of Kill Me, any antithesis it called to attack RAV turned on the hive. Meanwhile, RAV had chopped enough of the neck away that a wide crevasse split its body sideways. The Samurai jumped over the gap, moving down the neck, then reversed his axe and slammed the hammer end down in a two-handed overhead strike. The head and neck fell off the hive, spraying RAV with green antithesis blood as he fell with it.
I pushed through a last bit of brush and stood at a cliff. Straight below me, the centipedal Fourteen released its load of antithesis as it crawled over the corpse.
RAV stood, heaving deep breaths for a moment, then turned to swat the M-6 that barreled up to him, letting the corpse slide on by.
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