First Contact

Chapter 637: The Spoked Offensive

And thusly, the final Precursors ensured their survival.

Having seen firsthand the folly of the ways imparted by the teachings of The Old Universe and The Ancient Ones, and the truth about the new, malevolent universe in which they now resided, The Cult of the Defiled one abandoned their brethren - the Atrekna as a whole were not spared for the learnings of a few, but the few were found blameless for the actions of the many, as was The Mad Lemur's way.

The Cult of the Defiled one never truly integrated into the Confederacy, and you will never find them in the Senate, nor on the less-adventurous maps that are available to the casual tourist, for that matter... But their planets exist for those that dare to visit, and their wisdom is shared freely with those who do.

Making "The Pilgrimage of Threes" as it is called amongst the non-Lemur members of The Confederacy is strongly encouraged for freshly appointed diplomats of new member species - for learning of The Mad Lemurs, from their most critical sources, is the most powerful grounding to be found.

The Lanaktalan will tell you of the Lemurs' adroit violence running parallel to their compassion and mercy. The Mantid will tell you of nothing but their fierce thirst for freedom for all even as they themselves are dying. And the Atrekna will tell you of their endless rage against the universe itself, even while simultaneously serving its whims.

...

The Mad Lumurs cannot truly be stopped, cannot truly be reasoned out of their ways, and cannot be fully understood, but one truth will be ultimately clear, no matter who within The Pilgrimage of Threes that you consult with - You do not want to, as a point of fact, fuck around and find out.

--I'mnotDro'onk, Lanaktalan Political Psychologist after The 3rd Lemur Reformation.

P'Kank heard the striker roar as it dropped out of the metal laden clouds, heard his men climbing aboard the striker behind him.

"All clear, sir, that's everyone," his ad-hoc XO, Major General Yvth.Thwark called out over the suit commo, her voice filled with hissing and pops and clicks from the jamming put out by the Atrekna.

P'Kank raised the flare gun and fired a single blue star cluster, then turned and handed the guidon to Yvth.Thwark before climbing into the striker.

The striker lifted off with the roar of the graviton and the jet thrusters, angling slightly before accelerating away.

P'Kank stared at the Logistics and Command Base as it moved by under his feet.

The Atrekna creatures owned it now. More than a few raised up on their hind legs and scrabbled at the air as if they could pull the fleeing strikers down out of the air. The buildings were all breached and creatures swarmed in and out of them.

P'Kank felt his two stomachs twist as the breached wall of the base slid by underneath the strikers. Three places Ohm class Dwellerspawn had rammed through the walls, even though the impact had destroyed their brains. Around the base was nothing but screaming Dwellerspawn on top of meters thick layers of the dead. Small hills where autonomous war machines were covered by dead Dwellerspawn were scattered everywhere, more than a few oozing smoke into the hazy air.

"What's the nearest base?" P'Kank asked, shaking his head.

He couldn't believe he'd lost his command center. Decades of service and he'd never lost a command center in his entire career.

"Forward Operations Base Jeweled Anaconda," Yvth.Thwark said. "17th Centauri Lancer Corps. They're under heavy attack and on the verge of being overrun. Their wall is failing."

"Tell the pilots to make for Eff-Oh-Bee Jay-Aye at flank speed," P'Kank said. "We'll play calvary. Tell everyone to get ready for rapid dismount insertion."

"Yes, sir," Yvth.Thwark said. She swallowed thickly as she saw ATOMIC ATOMIC ATOMIC steam up her visor's vision edge.

P'Kank held onto the bar and leaned out of the striker slightly, the gunner reaching out and grabbing the back of his weapon harness.

The white flash was dampened by his visor as one of the few artillery units still in operation dropped a 350 kiloton atomic air burst straight over the fallen base, the munition detonating five hundred meters up.

The cloud, an angry giants fist in red and purple, clawed into the sky as the clouds rushed away.

The strikers shook slightly as the shockwave caught up and passed by, but the pilots had gained far too much experience at handling the shockwave of an atomic blast to be caught off guard.

Choke on it, P'Kank thought, pulling himself back into the striker.

He checked his battle harness. Two 10mm quad-barrel miniguns on his abdomen, two three barrel 40mm grenade mortars just behind his rear legs. He accepted a couple of magazines for his battle rifle, checked his pistol, then ran a function check on his cutting bar.

After that he stared out of the open door and chewed on stimgum.

The striker suddenly banked, tilting so that P'Kank could see the ground.

The Dwellerspawn were everywhere around the FOB. The parking lots, the mechanics areas, everywhere was covering in Dwellerspawn that had managed to get over the walls. Most of the wall mounted emplaced guns were unmanned, although two guns still had figures in power armor fighting on top of the wall. The buildings and fortified structures looked intact, but in two places he could see sandbags stacked up in doorways and heavy guns in emplaced positions blocking the door and pouring out firepower at the Dwellerspawn that owned the interior open air areas of the FOB.

As P'Kank watched an Ohm Class Dwellerspawn slammed into the wall and something in the structure gave out.

The wall crashed down and the Ohm Class pulled back.

Dwellerspawn flooded through the breach in the wall.

"LAND NOW!" P'Kank ordered.

The striker leveled out, tilted, and P'Kank was aware of Yvth.Thwark passing the commands.

In the end, we're all infantry, went through P'Kank's mind as the ground came up faster than he'd like.

The striker 'pogo'd' off the ground, the graviton band reducing the Dwellerspawn beneath the striker to slurry, the heavy jet thrusters baking the ground around the striker.

"COME ON, YOU DOGS, DO YOU WANNA LIVE FOREVER?" P'Kank yelled the ancient battlecry as he jumped out of the striker, taking the shock of the five meter drop easily. Immediately he made motions, ordering men to push the Dwellerspawn already in the open areas.

"INTO THE BREACH, PUSH THEM BACK!" P'Kank yelled, triggering his mounted 10mm miniguns as he walked forward, aiming at the breach in the wall where the Ohm Class had pulled back to allow the smaller Dwellerspawn to flood into the FOB.

General P'Kank charged the breach, the guidon on his back snapping in the wind.

His men gave a roar and followed him.

-----

Undrat watched as the vehicles pulled up. More than a few were smoking, 'rolling coal' as vehicle drivers liked to put it. There were armor maintenance cradles on the flatbeds, several other flatbeds had the massive creation engines connected to other flatbeds by giant hoses that were attached to the mass tanks.

The Logistics Group of the 60th Guards Rifle Division had arrived.

Undrat could see that they had paid a heavy price to push through to where Undrat was standing, with the hundred remaining men of the 177th Guards Rifle Regiment. The vehicles that remained of the Log Group were battered, their armor twisted and warped, many were running on roadwheels, their tracks left behind.

Still, it was good that they had made it.

A Treana'ad in full armor jumped down, moving to Undrat.

"Comrade," the insectoid said, nodding at Undrat. "Who is in charge?"

"Lieutenant Tharkmut," Undrat said, pointing at where the last officer of the Regiment was leaning against a twisted and destroyed autonomous war machine mobile fire platform.

The Treana'ad moved off.

Undrat waited until the Lieutenant got everyone in order, figured out who's armor was the worst off and who needed the most resupply.

Undrat's armor was the worst. Five blowthroughs, two of them down to his armored pilot's suit. His left leg and right arm only moved because Undrat had the strength to move them, the myomer muscles destroyed by enemy fire and voracious pollen. Undrat himself was largely uninjured. Three cracked torso rings, one of his front teeth knocked out, a broken nose, and two broken fingers.

Undrat considered himself fortunate.

The Lieutenant moved up to Undrat, standing for a long moment, the Saurian Compact Kobold staring at the Tukna'rn silently.

"Fit to fight, trooper?" the Lieutenant asked.

Undrat thought for a moment, comparing his physical condition to the doctrine manuals.

"If the medic so determines, sir," Undrat replied.

The Lieutenant nodded and pointed to where a positive pressure tent had been inflated. "Go see the medics, trooper."

"Yes, sir," Undrat said. He moved away slowly, the left leg of his power armor heavy as half the thigh muscle had been eaten away by virii and pollen.

As he approached the tent he glanced off into the distance.

The ground still spewed cinders into the air even as the lava and debris was spewed from the steadily rising mouth of the cindercone volcano.

Undrat had seen the explosion shatter the ground, had ridden the shockwave of the crust breaking, had advanced into the dust cloud pushed forward by the blast wave. His weapon had shattered the Dwellerspawn that had attempted to flee the massive explosion that had ruptured the earth itself.

The cindercone was twelve-hundred feet tall and still rising.

Undrat knew that the enemy had lost something important there.

As he stepped into the positive pressure air locker he felt pride that he had done his part.

-----

Ekret sat on top of his tank, chewing on a ration bar, his faithful crew around him. The sky was cloudy, lightning in the gray sky. The rain was cold but clear, no longer black and sticky.

Ground effect trucks rolled by and Cheapshot waved at them. Infantry in the back waved back.

Ekret wasn't sure what his tank had killed. Whatever it was, the sats hadn't detected any energy flares in the megaton range around the time he'd fired the last round the main gun of his tank was capable of.

All he knew was that the Atrekna lines had fallen apart. That the Atrekna leadership caste seemed to lose cohesion, flee the field of battle or attack insanely with psychic powers. The Dwellerspawn had gone mad, often attacking one another instead of charging forward in a single mass.

Two days of fighting had led to the pressure easing up.

As near as the ships in orbit, the ones that survived anyway, could tell, there wasn't a single Atrekna leadership unit on the planet. Not a single autonomous war machine or Dwellerspawn had been phased into existence in two days.

Without the Atrekan benefiting from their rapid temporal reinforcement trick Confederate firepower, precision attacks, and maneuverability had carried the day.

Even better, the rising sun was more yellow than orange.

Ekret closed his eyes, swallowed the last of the ration bar, then sighed. He could feel the sun's warmth on his face.

"Tank recovery vehicle coming up," Cheapshot said. "Looks like they're getting around to us, boss."

Ekret just nodded, keeping his eyes closed.

It was a good morning.

One of the best.

-----

P'Kank limped into the command and control center for Forward Operating Base Jeweled Anaconda, his pro-tem XO following him. His armor was discolored from acid hits, cracked from phasic blasts, and slagged here and there from autonomous war machine energy weapons. The entire front of his thorax plating was cratered by hyper-vee railgun rounds in the 5mm range.

But he felt great.

"Sir," the Colonel in charge of the base said.

P'Kank approved of the fact the Colonel didn't salute.

"Damn good to see you, sir," the Colonel, a Rigellian female, said, stepping forward and shaking P'Kank's hand. "If it hadn't been for you, we might have lost the base."

"I was in the neighborhood and it looked like you had it well in hand," P'Kank demurred. He turned and pointed at the holotank. "How's it look across the theater?"

"When the Atrekna leadership caste pulled out, the Dwellerspawn and autonomous war machine cohesion collapsed," the Colonel said. "It was touch and go at first, but the Atrekna aren't bringing in rapid reinforcements so their casualties are finally starting to take their toll."

"Good," P'Kank said. He tabbed up a stim, feeling sting and shuddering as the amphetamine raced through his ichor.

"Troops are rallying, we're establishing command and control again," the Colonel said. She made a motion and started moving over to another holotank. "The Confederacy trains for loss of command, thank the Digital Omnimessiah and Kalki's white goats."

P'Kank followed, limping, as the Colonel kept talking.

The battle for the planet wasn't won.

Not yet.