First Contact

Dressed in his battle armor Sergeant Hammond dropped down into the main waste reclamation tank, flexing his knees as he hit. His arms were over his head, holding his rifle tight. This tank was connected the decon showers and was usually filled with harsh chemicals, water, and a slurry from biological material being broken down chemically. It had been pumped out but still, it was supposed to be a visual inspection on the interior of the tanks.

He hit something soft and then plunged through it up to his waist. It was a soft, fibrous mat, glowing faintly in the darkness of the tank, more of a hint of light than actual light.

"FLAMER! I NEED A FLAMER IN HERE!" Hammond yelled out, moving to the side.

Something skittered in the darkness.

Private Illias dropped down next to Hammond, the flamer held over his head. He landed in the fibrous mat and looked around, his headlamp shining on the pinkish algae-like spongy material.

"Flare out!" Hammond yelled, cracking the IR flare and tossing it to the side.

The darkness bloomed into light and the two men saw it.

Thousands, tens of thousands of insects scurrying away from the light, their wet shells gleaming in the IR light, mandibles clicking, legs propelling them across the algae.

"JESUS DIGITAL CHRIST!" Illias yelled out, leveling the flamer.

"No, don't!" Hammond snapped, knocking the barrel of the other man's weapon up with his own weapon. "Jump out."

Illias nodded, jumping up and out. When Hammond jumped out he steadied the other man to keep him from falling back in.

"They must feed off the chemicals," Hammond said, shaking his head. He motioned at the two greenies with them. "We're gonna need thermite-napalm. Fire's the only thing that's going to work."

The greenies flashed icons of agreement.

"Cyborg Saint Peter, why didn't anything think to check these?" Illias asked, staring down.

Hammond shook his head. "That stuff felt pretty anchored to the bottom. I'll bet it stayed far enough under the surface you couldn't see it easily and the bugs would all run and hide."

"Think there's anything else in there?" Illias wondered.

"Sergeant Hammond to Command, you see my cam?" Hammond asked.

"One moment, Hammond," came the terse reply. Hammond took a moment to control his breathing. He always felt like there wasn't enough air when he was running on internal air. "Yeah, we see it."

"Gonna drop a frag grenade down there, see if we stir anything up," Hammond said.

"Negative, Hammond. There's a squad in armor on their way. There's a high probability there's something nasty enough to kill the two of you in there," Command said. "Close the lid and hold position, they're two minutes out."

One of the greenies flashed an icon of a green mantid frying a potted plant with a flame thrower and laughing maniacally.

"Yeah, me too, buddy," Hammond said, shutting the hatch to the waste tank.

It shut with a crunch as one of the beetles tried to scurry out, cutting it in half, its antenna waving furiously and its forward two legs twitching as the severed half fell to the floor.

Hammond crushed it under his boot.

Vuxten kicked the worm away, sending it flying through the air, 471's micro-rifle shredding it into pieces as the tiny green mantid rattled a burst into it. Vuxten jumped up on top of the shelter, holding the stubby SMG in his hands, clamping down the trigger, hammering the shells into the advancing insects that were pushing their way through the dirt that had been plowed up by the shelter surfacing, forcing the defenders to both keep an eye and a gun muzzle on the mounded earth as well as the jungle surrounding the shelter.

There were Sisters of Wrath baking the dirt, coating it with burning liquid fire, roasting insects and strange creatures before they could fully break free of the soil. The thousands of troops in green armor were staying mobile, in tight formations, using concentrated laser fire to rip apart the creatures that exited the jungle.

A dragonfly dropped on the shelter, reaching down with scythe-like pinchers, slamming them into the door seal and peeling it back with a shriek that Vuxten could feel in its mind.

Screaming in hatred back at it Vuxten shoulder-checked it hard enough its thorax exploded, but not before it had bent the door half open.

"NO! NO! NO MORE!" Vuxten screamed out, triggering his grav-spike to anchor him. He started kicking at the bent war-steel, increasing the gravity in his boots. "THIS IS THE LINE! NO FURTHER!" he roared out, kicking at the steel. "NO MORE! NO MORE TELKAN PODLING BLOOD!"

The whole shelter felt like it shuddered as the massive leader of the Imperium Marines crashed onto the hull of the shelter next to Vuxten, who didn't spare the massive cyborg a look as he kept kicking at the door, trying to bend it back down.

Daxin stared for a split second at the little armored figure in front of him, blinking his cybernetic eyes. He stepped forward and with one boot helped the little Telkan Marine to push the door back into place, the metal screaming with stress.

A beetle landed on the hull, folding its wings and starting to close its shell.

The Telkan used a Marine stubber to blow the beetle apart, holding the weapon with both hands, his whole body shuddering with the recoil of the hand weapon. One hand was wrapped with the warsteel chain of a cutting bar, the teeth wrapped around the Telkan's forearm, his fist, across his knuckles glowing a dull red.

His children are in there, Dax, his wife whispered in his ear as Daxin stepped up next to the lone Telkan Marine. The singers are inside. Podlings inside. Do you want them to die like our daughter died? Do you want him to feel them screaming inside his mind for the rest of life like

WE SCREAM FOR VENGEANCE! AVENGE US, DAXIN! AVENGE US UPON A HATEFUL UNIVERSE!

Daxin roared in fury over the speakers in his war-chassis, the rage pouring off of him in a wave that caused insect wings to burst into flame, carapaces to crack, insect heads to explode as the brains suddenly boiled.

Still more insects swarmed the shelter, the air thick with them. Even the Sisters of Wrath scorching the air with their holy fire could not clear it all. Visibility dropped to nothing as bees exploded into EFP needles, wasps converted themselves into spiked ramjet rounds, gnats clouded sensors and acted as chaff when they exploded, spores filled the air and pollen coated everything.

AVENGE YOUR DAUGHTERS, DAX! AVENGE ME! DO NOT FAIL THEM AS YOU FAILED US!

He fired his rockets dry, laying about him with his chainsword as he roared in fury.

"I JUST WANT LEFT ALONE!" Daxin roared out, his chainsword biting deep into the carapace of a massive winged insect/lizard hybrid that clattered mandibles against his helmet, scoring the warsteel. He could feel the dwellerspawn's hatred clash with his own.

His smothered their needles of hatred under a tsunami of wrath, hate, and loss.

The Telkan at his back roared in a rage just as deep, bellowed a lifetime of rage and oppression back into the faces of the dwellerspawn, howling the rage of the newly freed fighting to defend what little freedom they'd managed to claw from a malevolent universe.

Vuxten smashed his chain wrapped fist into the face of a huge lizard that had managed to scramble up onto the shelter with suckered feet. The warsteel, white and smoking, caved in its skull as purple energy flared around Vuxten's fist.

He knew his nose was bleeding but he didn't care. He knew he was covered in sweat and fur oils, but it didn't matter. He could feel the blood running from the ripped open scar but all it did was push him harder and faster.

To smash. To howl. To rage.

Artillery had managed to shift, surrounding the defenders in a ring of fire, shrapnel, FASCAM deployed mines, napalm, and explosions. 11th ACR was breaking off, unable to see through the spores, just hitting the afterburners and clawing for the sky, intending on coming around on another run.

There was nothing but the orange/red or purple/white thudding of artillery and close air support runs, nothing more than the distinctive howl of magac weapons pouring hate into the enemy, nothing more than the screams of the dwellerspawn and the roars of defiance of the defenders.

To Vuxten it was all right in front of him as the bugs, reptiles, hybrids, and just plain things charged the damaged entrance to the shelter. A lizard charged and he ripped it apart with the stubber held in both hands. A beetle bigger than him buzzed out of the smoke, ash, and rain and he smashed it out of the air with one fist, the smoking teeth of the cutting bar shattering the armor. A kick shattered the armor of a flatworm and sent it flying off the shelter, twisting in mid-air for a second before burning hate from one of the Sisters of Wrath engulfed it and reduced it to steam.

471 held tight to Vuxten's back, his psychic shielding cranked up to maximum and even then memories that were not his own kept playing in his mind even as he fought.

welding the strut, his mind crushed beneath the iron fist of the queens and the speakers. screaming deep inside as he had his whole life as another guided his actions used him to do their will while he screamed and screamed and screamed in despair at a universe that had allowed him to understand that his mind was not his own

A cloud of butterflies darted for the back of the huge Terran Imperium warrior and 471 got off two rockets before his overheated micro-rocket launcher jammed. The two rockets exploded in the cloud, burning away wings and detonating the explosive tissue between the wings that would have detonated to drive a spike of osmium the size of a needle into the Terran's armor.

explosions off in the distance blossoming off the great structure of the queen's hive a scream a death scream echoing in his mind and then it was gone the hand that had always forced his limbs to move drove his actions suddenly vanished he dropped his tools and lifted his bladearms in joy as his mind was freed

The 40mm automatic grenade launcher's breech was jammed again and 471 climbed up on Vuxten's shoulder to slam the butt of his jammed micro-rifle against it, hammering on it until it suddenly snapped closed, almost catching the butt of his rifle

raising his voice in joy as his mind was freed his fellow mantids around him raising their bladearms and their voices in freedom terrible terrible freedom singing out in joy even as they felt the young queen's mind reach out to start to smother them singing in joy for those few precious seconds where they were in charge of their movements not the will and mind of another

A small insect landed on Vuxten's helmet, rearing back to drive a spike unfolding from its belly into the top of Vuxten's head. Before it could do much more than slowly rear back, increasing tension in its biomechanical muscles 471 stabbed out with both of his bladearms, impaling the creature with both spikes and throwing it off to the side.

seeing the atomic fire stomp toward him and rejoicing in the knowledge that it would reach him reach all of his hatch-mates before the young queen could fully grip their minds with her own stepping to the side to cluster up with nearly a dozen of his green brethren as the atomic fists pounded toward him

Wet-printing another thermal core and slapping it into the emergency thermal control system, hammering on it with a micro-impact wrench to force it into the slot that heat had expanded and made too small for it. The still soft structure of the thermal core warped and finally clicked into place.

in the split second before the atomic fury reached him starting to sing with the others feeling the young queen's confusion as she touched their minds and found them singing

even as the white of atomic fire grabbed them in its fist and ripped them apart

they had been free had died free

His mind full of the memory that was not his, 471 gave a triumphant screech and beat a winged ant to death with his jammed rocket launcher even as he stabbed it with his bladearms.

Her finger was stone on the trigger of her flamer as Bellona floated on a mixture of the past and present and future. The two torches, one on each shoulder, blazed with holy fury of Lost Terra as she had no fear for there was only slumber in death.

Her mind was riven, splintered, fractured, shattered into pieces. She no longer knew any different, no longer remembered being the young woman she had been. She could remember the deaths, the screaming over SoulNet, the barrage of emotions and experiences cascading through SolNet Advanced Virtual Reality, had died a thousand thousand thousand times, but she no longer remembered who she had once been.

All she knew was war.

She did not remember the despair of seeing the Mantid warriors rush at the habitat of Alpha Centauri that she had grown up on. She didn't remember reaching down, gasping in the thin air, and lifting up a shattered piece of armaglass from the destroyed dome that gleamed at her feet.

She did not remember slitting her own throat, staring in defiance at the oncoming Mantid warriors, so many their footsteps made the ground tremble. She had stood there, wavering, fists clenched, blood dripping from the hand holding the shard of armaglass, blood running down her throat and down her chest.

Bellona could not remember what had come next. She had been cold and dead when the footsteps had moved up to her. The black robe caressing the sand as the figure had knelt down next to her cold body. How steady fingers had used a needle fashioned of Lossglass to stitch her throat closed with warsteel thread. How one gnarled hand held onto the runesteel staff and the other had lifted up her lifeless body. Cold white lips had covered her bloodless dead lips.

The figure, clad in robes, had breathed into her the gift of Legion.

What she could remember was opening her eyes, seeing the Technomagus AckAck1308 and Daxin the Unfeeling looking down at her as she took the first breath her lungs had felt in months, laying on the sands of her homeworld.

She could remember the burning sands of Anthill, the fires of betrayed Mercury, Scarred Venus, and slaughtered Mars. She could remember standing on the shores of an ammonia sea, clad in armor, beneath a sky of atomic fire.

It all was whirling, swirling, a confusing welter of images, emotions, and stimulus to anyone else.

But she was one of the Sisters of Wrath.

And they were nothing but meat to be burned.

"BURN IN THE NAME OF LOST TERRA AND SCARRED TELKAN!" the Technomancer roared, lifting up his staff and hammering it into the ground. Black flame and purple lightning roared out in a circle around him, rending apart insects, lizards, and hybrids. Flying insects exploded in mid-air or fell to the ground with their wings burned away. Larger creatures, even if they survived the fire and lightning, fell convulsing as the rage boiled their brains.

Vuxten heard the roar of the Technomancer as he kept one boot on the warsteel door and the other on the warsteel door frame. He'd flickered his grav-spike, warping and twisting the alloy until it was immovable even though he'd felt something crunch in his knee and his armor had increased the pressure of the interior sleeve around his knee.

Blood was dripping down his muzzle from a cut above his still meat eye, trickling from his nose, he could taste it in his mouth and in his throat, but he didn't care. He held onto the magac stubber with both hands, firing it at any creature that loomed up out of the smoke, ash, and rain. He knew 471 was with him, knew that his miniature partner had his back.

Knew his podlings and broodcarriers were somewhere in the shelter beneath his feet.

Knew other Telkan's broodcarriers and podlings were beneath his feet.

He could hear them. Hear the broodcarriers singing softly, words of calm and relaxation to stressed Telkan even as they were afraid of the vibrations and the dimly felt explosions on the other side of the thick warsteel walls.

It added fuel to the white hot rage that consumed him, roared higher as he felt the fizz of the magac reloading in his fists.

An Imperium Marine crashed to the hull next to him, half his helmet torn away, shredded flesh gleaming with blood and exposed bone on his face.

"ON YOUR FEET, BROTHER!" Vuxten yelled, holding out one hand to the dazed warrior. The Imperium Marine grabbed Vuxten's arm and yanked himself up, opening his hands so his heavy cannon flew into his hands. The Imperium Marine put his feet solidly on the hull, his back to Vuxten and Daxin, and started laying down heavy fire on the creature that had knocked him away with a negligent swipe of its massive taloned claw.

The creature loomed out of the ash and fire and rain, roaring as it vomited up bioplasma on the green armored Terrans grouped together and lashing it with lasers. Vuxten turned the SMG on the giant creature, seeing the rounds do little more than make blemishes in its thick hide.

"NO! NO MORE PODLING BLOOD!" Vuxten roared out, squeezing the grip with both hands, fighting the recoil on the massive weapon. The images of dead podlings he'd been too late to save during the Precursor War filling his mind as he howled out bloodlust and clamped down on the trigger, firing off the entire magazine in one long howling burst. The stubby barrel was smoking when the action clicked and the bolt locked back.

The giant monster crushed two of the war machines beneath it massive foot, its tongue flicked out and grabbed two Dokigrrlz who kept firing even as it pulled them into its mouth and swallowed so the lamprey-like throat could grind them to flesh and shards of armor. Rockets hit the creature, scarring the flesh, bruising it, but not penetrating the thick hide of the creature.

"NO MORE SILENCED SONGS!" Vuxten bellowed over his speakers as the magac reloaded with the weird twisting fizz and his brain filled with images of crushed broodcarriers, mangled broodcarriers, murdered broodcarriers, too many times holding dead or crying confused podlings they'd protected with their own bodies.

moving the rubble, flipping it away with one armored hand, brushing aside the stiff and cold fluffy tail to reveal wide eyed crying podlings still held close by the dead broodcarrier that had protected the podlings from the atomic blast that had driven glass into her body

"NO MORE!" Vuxten cried out as the amount of firepower being aimed at the giant creature intensified, making it hesitate and blink with confusion.

"YOU COULD STRIKE A MATCH IN MY HAND!" rang out over his speakers as he fired off the entire magazine again, ignoring the beeping coming from the weapon as its heat rose. His shoulder launchers beeped as the magac's ammo counter rapidly dropped and he dead-fired them at the creature as it roared at the shelter and its tiny defenders. The missiles hit with cracks, knocking a single tooth out, blowing a divot in the tongue, blistering and discoloring the roof of its mouth even as the 40mm's all hit the top of its head at once, wreathing it in fire.

"TOO BLACK TO TAN!" carried over the din as 471 overrode the heat warnings from the nano-forge to supply ammunition to the shoulder launchers as fast as they could be slushed out.

Vuxten felt the gun run dry and snarled, the creature's screaming roar rebuffed in his own mind. Part of him wanted to jump at the giant creature, to go at it with his teeth and bare hands, wished his cutting bar had not broken, wished he still had the heavy autocannon.

The mat-trans loaded thumped ammo into the magazine and the weapon roared again.

"HEAVY METAL RHYTHMS FROM A ONE MAN BAND!"

The giant creature started moving forward, picking up speed, even as small explosions dotted its hide.

"BUST MY KNUCKLES IN A JUNKYARD SCUFFLE!"

Vuxten barely got warning, reaching back to snatch 471 and hold him close even though the mantid was upside down. He turned around, crouching, slapping the magac against his hip where it attached, putting one fist against the warped and twisted door.

Across the battlefield armored troops went down on one knee, crossing their arms in front of their faces. The green armored troops dove onto the ground, putting gloved hands over their necks. Even the Sisters of Wrath went down on one knee, bowing their heads as if in supplication. The giant war machines crossed their arms across their middles.

"WHIPPIN' ADVERSARIES WITH A BRASS BELT BUCKLE!"

The atomic rounds, five of them, hit the center of the creature's body, blowing a massive hole through the middle as the 150kt rounds detonated inside the kaiju's body. Burning meat and armored hide exploded into the sky as atomic fire devoured flesh and bone.

The kaiju vomited up blood and the two Dokigrrlz who picked themselves up out of the smoking stomach acids, one missing an arm, one with her face reduced to bone, and started firing their magac's wildly into the dying creature's face.

The shockwave pounded into Vuxten, who managed to hold his place, his armor's graviton generator and compensators screaming in his one working ear, his armor alarms howling, the heat spiking and covering him with sweat again.

"PILEDRIVERS ON LINE!" came the roar over the comlink, still full of static even though the tanks were less than a mile away.

Trucker held down the butterfly trigger of his quadbarrel, hosing a massive reptile looking creature with insect wings as it tore itself free from the earth, shedding green nutrient fluid as it revealed the buried nutrient pipe it had grown inside of. One of his cybereyes was smashed to junk and two of his cybernetic fingers were missing, but Cry Little Sister still roared with life as the gunner and EM officer heft the shell up and reloaded the main gun faster than the autoloader could have managed it.

They were tankers, they'd make do, even if they had to get out and push the goddamn thing into battle. They were 3rd Armor, Spearhead, who had broke the enemy's back on a thousand worlds, that had crushed the mantid warrior caste into paste beneath their battle-steel treads.

"Milord Daxin, call down the Wings of Rage! It is time!" Bellona gurgled, striding out of the ash and rain as if nothing had happened. Her armor was pristine, marred only by the crimson rain falling from the sky, her face still gray unliving beauty.

Standing up and letting 471 climb back onto his back, Vuxten looked up as the massive Cyborg who had been at his back raised his helmet and shouted to the sky, what sounded like an unintelligible vocalization of pure rage. When he had finished he looked down, clapping his hand on Vuxten's shoulder.

"My seers and oracles saw you here, Brother Vuxten," the figure intoned.

The weight of the words nearly drove Vuxten to his knees but instead he stiffened his knees, ignoring the pain in one, and looked at the helmet faceplate of the massive Terran.

"Without you, Telkan would have fallen," the helmet opened as the faceplate split in two and retracted.

Vuxten didn't flinch from the sight of a living face stretched over a warsteel skull, attached to tubes and wires that pulsated on the black skull. The eyes burned with red fire.

"The next part, Brother, is Telkan's burden alone," the face twisted as the jaws of the warsteel skull moved. "Ten of your men, two of whom had fallen, shall be with you."

The skull tilted as the figure looked up. "The elves come, and Telkan is saved."

The figure looked back down. "But only if you succeed, if the Telkan people succeed," Daxin said. He held out one hand. "Your chainsword," he asked.

Vuxten pulled the wreckage of his broken cutting bar off his hip and handed it to Daxin, who handed it to Bellona. Bellona held it in her hands, breathing black mist onto it that suddenly burst into flame, consuming the mist.

A heavy chainsword was held in her hand.

She handed it to Vuxten with a slight bow.

"The Stubber of Bahram the Persian Fury, Brother," Daxin asked.

Vuxten handed the SMG to the big Terran, who again handed it to Bellona.

The battle still raged around them, the weight of Trucker's unit crushing the insects beneath their treads, shattering them with their guns, even as the infantry poured fire into those the tankers missed.

She handed back a smaller version, still blocky and heavy and ugly looking, without the ornamentation. His pistol was handed back, heavier somehow. Finally she stepped forward, opening her dead jaws and breathing black mist upon him. Vuxten's displays went crazy for moment as multiple armor breaches were reported. The mist burst into flame after a moment, leaving Vuxten standing in his armor, which was heavier, massed more, less sleek and more bulky and plated.

A dropship fell from the sky, ornate, blackened by fire, blocky looking. The drop-side was open, showing eight Telkan Marines standing inside. Two war chassis, the size of Daxin, stood on each side of the line of Telkan.

"Where am I going?" Vuxten asked.

The skull headed warrior shrugged, the massive ornate plates of his armor rising and falling.

"That is not for us to know, brother. It is for Telkan and Telkan alone," Daxin stated. He swept his arm out, pointing at the dropship. "Your fate, brother, lies with them who have been seen by my Wrathful Ones. What you do decides the fate of Telkan itself."

"Go in glory and wrath, brother," Bellona gurgled.

--into fire-- 471 flashed on Vuxten's HUD. --ride or die--

Vuxten nodded and jumped, twisting and somersaulting so he landed facing outward.

The dropship lifted up, arcing, and the raging battle below dwindled and was lost in the ash and smoke.