Chapter 18: Mild West Meets the Wild West
August 8, 2558
1715 hours
Bridge of the UNSC Infinity
“I thought you were headed back to the castle?” asked Celestia.
“Oh, I couldn’t help staying on this ship,” Luna responded. “It’s just so, fascinating! Anyway, were we not leaving some ten minutes ago anyway?”
“Captain Lasky requested that the two of us stay by this, hologram-table, until he says we can go,” said Celestia. “The request apparently came right as we should have left.”
Luna only looked skeptical.
“But why?” was all she could ask. “We haven’t wronged anypony have we?”
“I haven’t the slightest–”
Just then, Captain Lasky came into the room and stormed right up to the table.
Placing his hands on the table as he leaned over it, Roland appeared with crossed arms and the two simply stared down the princesses.
“Which one of you gave that order?” Lasky asked clearly and sternly.
When neither princess answered, he promptly slammed a fist onto the holo-table, prompting Roland’s image to momentarily lose balance.
“Did I stutter?!” he asked, borderline shouting. “Who in Tartarus gave that bucking order?!”
Both princesses took a step back at this, shocked at Lasky’s sudden indignance.
“Sir,” said Roland, looking up at Lasky with an equally shocked look. “You just swore in their language.”
“So that they would pay attention,” the Captain responded, his gaze unwavering. “ANSWER THE QUESTION!”
Celestia and Luna only looked at each other wide-eyed before looking back at their interrogator.
“What order?” asked the two sisters in unison.
“Roland, you think they’d lie to me?” asked Lasky to his AI friend.
“They don’t seem like the lying type, sir,” he responded, virtual arms crossed again.
“Don’t play dumb with me,” said Lasky to the princesses now. “I’ll have you know Roland has a built-in lie detector.”
“I do indee–wait, I do?!”
“Dammit Roland! That’s where you were supposed to stay quiet…”
Lasky only massaged the vein between his eyes right then.
“Ohhh! Shit,” said Roland, virtually facepalming. “My bad, sir. I fucked up.”
“It’s not a big deal,” said Lasky, holding up his hand after taking a breath. “You’re doing a lot of multitasking, I get it.”
Roland only shrugged.
“One of you gave that order,” said Lasky, turning his attention back to the princesses, who looked more confused now. “So, I’m giving you the benefit of the doubt, whichever one of you it was, and I’ll just say that you momentarily forgot that you gave it.”
The Captain pointed at his AI helper.
“Roland, why don’t you jog their memory?”
“With pleasure, sir.”
Roland snapped his fingers and the video of marines mowing down Daleponies began to play.
“I left the bridge about an hour ago,” Lasky started. “The battle was over, yet sometime between then and now, someone…”
He pointed at the video solemnly yet angrily.
“…or should I say, somepony, with some pretty high security clearance ordered this to happen; yet somehow I only hear about it fifteen minutes ago. Such an order is one that I would consider inhumane, I think you both can guess what that means, and whichever one of you issued it did not run it by me first!”
Celestia was the first to speak up.
“How dare you accuse us of this!” she said. “And how dare you speak to us in this manner! You know a princess outranks any Captain.”
Captain Lasky once again pointed his authoritative finger at the princesses.
“You two may be the rulers of this land, but I’m the one in charge of this war!” he stated matter-of-factly. “Command your own troops as you please, but never, ever, even try to command mine without consulting me first! That’s the chain of command that’s in place here, and I hope I won’t have to remind you two of that again.”
Celestia was only quiet, as she could not argue with his logic.
“Now, which one of you,” he started again, more quietly. “Gave that order?”
Celestia was about to retort immediately, but right as she opened her mouth she was interrupted by Luna.
“Celestia,” she said, prompting all eyes, real and virtual, to turn towards her. “I think I know what he’s talking about.”
The look on Luna’s face was faint, but it was there: the look of guilt.
Celestia gasped before covering her mouth in shock.
“Luna?!” she exclaimed softly, tears beginning to well up.
“Ah-ha!” said Roland. “The plot thickens…”
. . .
August 8, 2558
1720 hours
Ponyville Train Station
“What, are we actually sleeping in the train?!” asked Private Eugene Phillips incredulously.
“First wave means first wave Private,” said Gunnery Sergeant David Alvarez as he tossed him a sleeping bag. “Bright and early tomorrow morning, we’re shooting some bug-eyes out!”
Shifty merely sighed in response and glanced down at his temporary bed forlornly.
“Yes, sir,” he said before turning around and walking into the train.
PFC Ogden Jenkins walked out as Shifty walked in.
“My spot’s all set up, gunny,” he said after exchanging salutes.
“Understood,” gunny responded. “I assume you came out for some air?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Very well then, I’ll be inside–”
His voice trailed off as he looked up. Jenkins followed his gaze to see a pelican coming in for a landing. It flew overhead and began landing behind the station.
“Or not,” gunny deadpanned. “Sounds like it’s landing.”
“Is that the last one from Manehattan?” asked Jenkins.
“Yeah, LT and the Cap should be in that one so, I’ll head back and greet.”
“Sir,” said Jenkins as he saluted.
“Enjoy the nighttime air,” ordered gunny as he returned the salute before jogging around the back.
As soon as gunny was out of sight, Jenkins turned around to get a face full of rainbow. Rainbow Dash had swooped in from above and tackled Jenkins in an embrace.
“You’re back!” she exclaimed. “I-I was so worried!”
“*cough*Glad to see you too!*cough*” said Jenkins.
The PFC looked over towards the train to see the rest of Icebreaker laughing at him through the windows, to which he responded with his middle finger.
. . .
Behind the station, gunny ran up to his two superior officers as they disembarked a pelican that flew away shortly after.
“Good evening gentlemen!” he greeted over the pelican’s roar, saluting.
“Good evening,” Lieutenant Daniel Dietz and Captain Robert Peterson said in unison, saluting their subordinate as the noise subsided.
“All of Alpha platoon is set up inside the train, sir,” said gunny to Dietz, before turning to Peterson. “The rest of Gypsy company is almost done.”
“Good work son,” said the Captain, saying nothing more as he nonchalantly adjusted his officer’s cap.
“Rest easy tonight,” said the Lieutenant, patting gunny on the shoulder without making eye-contact as he passed his subordinate. “We’ve got a big day tomorrow…”
The Gunnery Sergeant could clearly tell that something was wrong.
“Sir?” he said as he grabbed the Lieutenant’s shoulder from behind. “Is something wrong, if you don’t mind me asking?”
They both looked at the NCO, who looked from Dietz to Peterson.
“I haven’t seen either of you like this since…well, a really long time,” he stated. “What is it?”
Lieutenant Dietz turned around and laid a hand on gunny’s shoulder, finally making eye contact as the Captain took off his hat behind the NCO before running a hand through his short hair.
. . .
“So, you were worried about me?” Jenkins started as he stood up and dusted himself off. “How sweet.”
“What?” said Rainbow, looking up at him. “I care! What’s wrong with that?”
“Just giving you a hard time, again.”
“Heh heh, so…you have to go again huh?”
Jenkins only nodded.
“But you just got back!” said Rainbow.
“A marine’s job is never done,” Jenkins said straightforwardly, kneeling to Rainbow’s height. “You know it’s not healthy to be this worried about me, right? Don’t you have other things, like that Wonderbolt stuff, to be concerned with too?”
“Ugh, I know,” said Rainbow, looking down.
“Hey, look at me,” said Jenkins as he lifted her head up by the chin. “I’ll be fine.”
The PFC sighed and dropped his arm when she still didn’t seem convinced.
“You’re still thinking about that training exercise, aren’t you?” he asked, to which she nodded in response. “You wanna know the truth?”
Again, she nodded.
“That’s the only time that’s ever happened to me; that’s a fact. And you know what else?”
“What?”
“Changelings don’t have grenades!”
He smiled and playfully slapped her shoulder as he spouted that lie. Though it was more of a half-lie, as he had no idea whether or not changelings had grenades. But as long as Rainbow seemed convinced, he’d be happy lying to her just to put her mind at ease.
Thankfully, it seemed to work, as Rainbow’s face brightened up.
“Really?!” she asked.
“Absolutely,” Jenkins responded. “So, don’t worry about me. We’ll solve this bug infestation soon, and who knows? I might get the chance to hang out with you in some regular clothing for once!”
“These aren’t your normal clothes?”
“Nah, but we’ll get to that discussion in due time. Consider it something to think about while I’m away.”
“I will! So, when do you head out?”
“Early tomorrow morning. We’ll be gone before you wake up.”
Rainbow’s face grew long once again.
“So, I guess this is goodbye again?” she asked. “Already?”
“Afraid so,” said Jenkins, reaching for her face again.
Before the PFC could react however, Rainbow leaned in and kissed him on the nose before levitating away. He put a hand on his nose as she spoke.
“Gotcha first this time!” she said, smiling now, before soaring away.
Jenkins briefly chuckled to himself as Shifty opened the train window.
“Ma man!” was all he said before putting the index finger of one hand through a circle he made with his other hand.
“I didn’t have sex with her, give it a rest already!” Jenkins snapped. “Fuck, man.”
Just then, gunny rounded the corner behind Captain Peterson and Lieutenant Dietz. All three looked like they’d seen ghosts.
Shifty closed the window before the PFC exchanged salutes with the two officers. After they had passed and walked into the train, Jenkins looked to gunny, having clearly read the trio’s average demeanor.
“Sir?” he asked, pointing at the entrance of the train. “Is something wrong?”
“That’s what I asked,” said gunny solemnly, avoiding eye-contact. “And you wouldn’t believe the answer…”
. . .
August 8, 2558
1725 hours
Bridge of the UNSC Infinity
“…and that is why I thought it rational to at least execute one of their battalions,” Luna finished.
Celestia’s mouth was agape while Lasky and Roland merely stood speechless.
“What the hell?” said Roland finally. “That’s like, medieval-level doctrine! Which is weird, considering most of the Equestria we’ve seen looks pretty modern.”
“Yeah,” said Lasky. “Were you gone for like, a thousand years or something?”
He was taken aback by the princess’ knowing, surprised looks.
“What?” he asked. “Was it exactly one-thousand?”
“A millennia-long banishment to the moon, yes,” said Luna.
“To the moo-?” Lasky trailed off as he brought an astonished hand up to his forehead.
“You humans deduce things quickly,” said Celestia.
“You know what? I’m not gunna ask,” said Lasky, bringing his arm back down. “But at least we’re all clear on where that damn order came from.”
“I do apologize for overstepping my bounds Thomas,” said Luna.
“Apology not accepted,” snapped Lasky. “…yet. Don’t ever tarnish my marines’ reputation like that again, and that goes for you too Celestia! From now on, if either of you want my forces to do something you want, you’ll bring it to me first, period. Is that understood?”
“Understood Thomas,” said Celestia.
“And don’t do stuff like that anymore Luna!” said Lasky. “You live in a new age. I’m sure your sister can give you the talk later.”
“I understand,” said Luna.
“Good,” said Lasky as he eyed them both. “You’re both dismissed.”
After the princesses had walked out of the room, Roland turned to his superior.
“Respect sir,” he said. “You just told off two princesses!”
Lasky was the one to shrug this time.
“I mean, they kinda have to take it,” he responded. “They’d already be toast without me, wouldn’t they?”
“This is true. But, speaking of toast, I’ve been meaning to ask you something, sir,” said Roland as Lasky seemed to be all ears. “I can’t believe none of us came up with this until now, but why don’t we just nuke the changeling hive?”
“Oh, is that all? Don’t worry, I’ve already thought that contingency through.”
“Oh, and a ship AI couldn’t? It’s most likely that a single one of our tactical nukes would be enough to wipe it out; this whole mission could be pretty much over in one move!”
“Correct, but I’d rather not.”
“Why though...sir? You know I can locate the hive right now and just drop one on ‘em?”
“Can you though?”
“What do you mean?”
“Go ahead,” said Lasky with a wave of his arm. “Find out where they are.”
“Right now?” asked Roland quizzically.
“Right now,” the Captain ordered, pointing at the holo-table. “Locate the hive.”
“Oh-kay,” said Roland as he turned to face the center of the table. “Should be easy enough.”
Roland brought up a three-dimensional hologram of the planet.
“So, they’ve mentioned multiple times that the changelings live in a place called, ‘the Scorchedlands’,” he said as he zoomed in on a fairly large part of one of the planet’s continents. “According to that map they gave us, the Scorchedlands are located here.”
“And the hive?” asked Lasky.
“Huh,” the AI pondered. “It’s a pretty geologically active area; lots of volcanism, multiple fault lines, no complex structures detected…”
“I probably should’ve mentioned this to you earlier, but I spoke with Celestia about why they’re undetectable. They’ve blanketed themselves in a kind of, magical cloaking spell, preventing our instruments from detecting them. And forget flying into the Scorchedlands to use our own eyes to see them, as the spell prevents even our own eyes from seeing it; I know because she demonstrated it on herself, proving that even human eyes couldn’t see through it.”
Roland thought for a moment.
“We really don’t have the tech?” was all he could ask.
“We’ve literally never run into this kind of energy, AKA magic, before,” said Lasky. “I wouldn’t be too surprised.”
Roland only continued to give Lasky a skeptical look.
“C’mon, I know you believe in magic at this point; you and I have already witnessed our fair share.”
“It’s not that, sir,” said the AI. “I’ll believe in the existence of a cloaking spell, but then what’s the proof that the changelings are even in the Scorchedlands?”
“The attack came out of the Scorchedlands only three days ago, the neighboring country of Boardor was the first nation conquered within hours. You do have a point though, fingers crossed that it’s not some kind of ruse.”
“And the geological activity in the region means we can’t just carpet-bomb the whole area with conventional bombs,” said Roland, looking at the map. “That could cause dormant volcanoes to become active and active volcanoes to become more active, not to mention the earthquakes that would come with it could rock nearby countries to their cores.”
He turned to Lasky.
“Too many active volcanoes would mean too much greenhouse gas,” he continued. “Which could alter the climate of the globe in a very unwanted way for these equines.”
“Exactly,” said Lasky. “So, imagine what a single nuke would cause, and I’m not about to blanket that whole area with them; that by itself could cause a global climate shift, not to mention a potential worldwide nuclear winter.”
Roland then assumed the pose of someone in deep thought.
“Theoretically, couldn’t those weather ponies handle a climate shift? Keeping the weather as is without anypony noticing?”
“Roland, we’d only be trading Equestria one problem for another,” stated Lasky. “We are not bombing them, and that’s final; we’re not here to make their lives harder! I hope you know that.”
“Understood sir,” said the AI. “Just speculating is all.”
. . .
August 9, 2558
0551 hours
The Mild West
Aboard the train to Appleloosa
Gypsy Company
Alpha Platoon
Fireteam Icebreaker
Ogden awoke to the first rays of dawn and the sound of clattering train tracks below him. They were moving. They must have left the station while they were all asleep.
“Rise and Shine,” whispered gunny, sitting behind Jenkins between their two beds. He held up a finger to his lips to indicate all the marines around them, still fast asleep. They were all in uniform as well, in anticipation of hitting Appleloosa at 0600.
“How long have you been awake?” asked the PFC quietly, turning to sit towards his NCO.
“Since about a minute ago,” he whispered back.
As Jenkins rubbed his eyes, he couldn’t help remembering what his squad leader had told him yesterday.
“A whole battalion?!” Jenkins said, leaning in close to be quieter with his exclamation.
“Why else do you think everyone in this company was so quiet yesterday?” said gunny. “Princess Luna wanted to send a message, we’ve been over this! At least we know it wasn’t Lasky, ‘cause that wouldn’t make any sense.”
“That’s true, but that was still kind of extreme wouldn’t you say?”
“I wouldn’t want to say anything. They have their reasons, we just follow their orders.”
“*yawn*I thought you thought for yourself, sir,” said Shifty, waking up from underneath the bed adjacent to Jenkins’.
“The hell?” said Jenkins, not so quietly now. “You slept under the bed?”
“Wasn’t any room dude,” the private responded. “Least I had this sleeping bag. Thanks gunny.”
“Don’t thank me, thank logistics,” said gunny as he opened his canteen. “You know this already!”
“Aye sir,” said Shifty as he squirmed out from underneath the bed, waking up Sidney with the noise.
“Aw! Whatthefuckmate?!” said the Aussie in disgust, waking up every marine in the train car.
“So much for being quiet,” said gunny, at normal volume now as he put his canteen away.
“Bloody hell Sid,” said Corporal Williams from the bed opposite Sidney’s, looking and sounding very drowsy. “You and him agreed upon that. Do you not remember, mate?!”
“I swear I just wanna, no I’m going to kill all of you!” said Sergeant Alex as he sat up in his bed, rubbing his eyes.
“Can it all of you!” gunny ordered. “We’ve had worse mornings.”
“Aye, gunny,” said the rest of Icebreaker in unison.
“Be happy the lead train car actually has beds, ok?” he went on. “Marines in the next car over are either waking up on narrow, hard-cushioned seats or on the floor!”
“Aye, gunny,” they all said again.
Suddenly, Lt. Dietz walked in from the front of the train, where the engine and the pony train conductor were.
“Gas masks on!” he ordered, cocking his pistol. “Look alive marines! Conductor says we’re less than five mikes out! Sergeant Alvarez, send a runner to make sure everyone’s awake!”
“Aye sir!” said gunny. “Jenkins, that’s you.”
“Weren’t they all told via radio?” the PFC asked.
“Some may have slept through it or had their helmets off while they were sleeping,” said Sergeant Alex, loading his assault rifle. “Now go! We’ve got no time!”
“Make sure you get your ass back here when you’re done!” said gunny as he loaded his shotgun.
“Aye sir,” said Jenkins as he put his helmet on and bolted out the door with his own assault rifle.
“I guess the Mild West is about to meet the Wild West,” said Sergeant Alex.
Everyone who heard him just stared.
“Oh please,” he said. “Y’all knew that pun was coming…”
. . .
All was quiet now inside the train as it pulled into Appaloosa station; all marines crouching low around the windows to stay out of sight, while every other marine held a frag grenade in hand. Everyone had their gas masks on, effectively minimizing the amount of skin vulnerable to blasts from the changeling’s staffs.
Seconds turned into minutes as the station materialized outside, and as the train could be felt slowing to a halt.
“On my go,” said Lieutenant Dietz over the comms.
Gunny and Jenkins were crouched near one window, Jenkins held the grenade while his superior held an 8-guage shotgun.
An eternity seemed to pass before the train came to a standstill. When it finally did, every marine holding a grenade pushed the button to prime it. Dietz waited until a lone changeling guard approached one of the windows.
As soon as he saw him attempt to peer through the glass, he set his marines in motion.
“Now!” he ordered, causing all his marines holding their primed explosives to release their fuses.
As every pair of marines was doing all across the train at their designated windows, gunny stood up and smashed his and Jenkins’ window with the butt of his shotgun before Jenkins tossed his grenade through the break. The two then ducked back down before a chorus of explosions rocked the station just outside of the train, causing countless shards of glass to fly inward and across the floor, bouncing off of the marines’ now fully armored bodies; screams from the dying changelings outside soon followed said glass shards.
Gunny peaked back out to see a bloodied changeling, seemingly shell-shocked, stumbling about almost right outside his window; he promptly fired his 8-guage at his enemy’s head, sending his, now even more green, carcass tumbling a few feet back in the green mist of its blood.
“Off the train, Alpha!” barked Dietz over the radio, jumping out an opposite window onto the dirt after head-shotting another changeling with his pistol. “Go, go, go!”
With a menacing “OORAAAH!” the marines of Alpha Platoon charged out of the train.
Any changeling still standing unaware in the open were quickly cut down; most others managed to find cover inside the nearby buildings. After a good ten seconds of initial slaughter, changeling snipers finally opened fire from the clocktower above. The marines instinctively took cover behind the two nearest buildings: the hat shop and the saloon.
While some marines went around the back of their respective buildings to kick in the back door, Lieutenant Dietz turned to icebreaker; he and his subordinate fireteam were in cover behind the saloon.
“Sergeant! You and your men clear that clocktower!” he ordered over the noise. “We’re going to try and set up a temp-HQ in this saloon!”
“Aye sir!” responded gunny as he and the rest of icebreaker got ready to run.
“Covering fire!” yelled Dietz, before he and a couple of other marines began shooting at the clocktower, cueing Icebreaker to sprint across the street towards it.
. . .
Inside the first floor of the clocktower, light and noise rushed to fill the room as gunny kicked the door in; the rest of Fireteam Icebreaker poured in, following standard room-clearing procedures, the second-to-last in being Marcus with a sniper rifle on his back and an M6H pistol in hand, with Sidney bringing up the rear watching everyone’s back.
Empty.
Assuming the room was clear, Icebreaker began running towards the stairs when, in a sudden flash of green, the tables and chairs became hostile changeling soldiers; in an instant, the marines were encroached upon from every angle.
Having just barely enough time to react, gunny looked behind him, right at the Corporal, and ordered, “Protect Marcus! Get down, man!”
The squad didn’t hesitate; they knew the Corporal and his rifle were the priority, as he was to have the best vantage point from atop the clocktower. As Marcus was ducking, with his brethren diving onto him, he caught a glimpse of his superior pulling out a frag-grenade, but not just any; this one was painted yellow with a smiley-face drawn on it, and Marcus instantly knew Gunny’s plan without another word being spoken.
In under two seconds, nearly a dozen changelings were swarming atop the marines, but not before Gunny had activated his grenade, and thrown it straight up to the ceiling where it would stick.
An eternity seemed to pass as Icebreaker remained nearly suffocated under the mass of changelings attempting to claw away at their armor, before Alvarez’s sticky grenade finally detonated; the initial shockwave broke the bones of the miniature changeling swarm before the shrapnel that followed shredded through their flesh.
As the shocked and wounded hive members, if not dead hive members, flopped off the marines who were now half-covered in green changeling blood, they rushed to escape the zone right under the blast, for large shards of wood that had previously constituted the section of floor above them came raining down onto said spot just seconds later, some impaling changeling bodies both dead and alive.
“To the stairs! Move!” ordered Gunny, wasting no time. “Sid, keep watching our backs as we go up, in case any survivors try to chase us.”
“Aye, si-ir!” responded the Private, slipping and catching himself on some more green blood as the group continued across the room towards the stairwell. “So not disgusting, mate!”
. . .
Meanwhile, back outside, some changelings were being shot out of the sky as they attempted to fly away; those humans shooting them had taken over the rooftops of the initially captured buildings.
. . .
At the top of the clocktower lay some of the changeling snipers’ bodies, still laying with their backs upon the walls with fresh bullet holes through their skulls; the rest were killed as they tried to come down the stairs, tumbling down them past the marines after being shot.
Shifty had taken over watching the rear, as Sidney had to spot for Corporal Marcus, who was setting up his sniper rifle; the American Private was aiming his rifle down the stairs through an opening in the floor that had served as their doorway to the top floor. All was quiet in the room, aside from the outside gunfire below.
“I thought you wanted to die with ‘Big Bang’?” asked Eugene, his gaze not wavering from the stairwell.
Though they were all wearing masks, the Gunnery Sergeant knew the Private could only be referring to one person.
“I’d be crazy if that was my only use for it,” said Gunny. “Just call it a, split-second decision…a creative one at that. Besides, I can always buy a new one on the black market.”
“You bought that?! On the black market?!” asked Corporal Williams, pausing the setup of his sniper post. “And here I thought you built the bloody thing.”
“Let’s just say you get some, special security clearances, when you become a Sergeant,” said Alex.
“When you’re a rank above that actually, Sergeant Thompson,” said Gunny, correcting his second-in-command. “You’ll get your turn soon enough, officially/unofficially.”
“Yeah,” said the Sergeant towards the rest of the squad. “Basically, you didn’t hear this from us.”
“Aight,” was all Shifty could say in response.
Marcus had simply shrugged it off at that point before looking out his opening in the tower wall.
“What the…?” he trailed off before rapping on Sidney’s shoulder. “Hey, you seeing this?
He pointed off into the distance, Sidney taking a moment to follow his arm and finger.
“Spot that for me, will you?” he ordered before finalizing his setup.
Sidney then raised his binoculars and zoomed-in with them as far as he could as Marcus locked in a fresh clip.
In the distance, changelings were rapidly setting up on a distant cliffside in pairs; one would take his spear and stick it into the ground, before proceeding to move it around in the dirt like old TV antennas, while the other would hold his spear like normal as if to protect his exposed comrade.
“There are pairs of changelings setting up on a cliff to the southeast,” the Aussie reported. “I’ve no idea what for, but they’re facing our way…”
“I dunno what they’re planning either, but I don’t like it,” said his sniper partner next to him. “Sir? How should we proceed?”
“Engage how you see fit Corporal,” said Gunny. “You don’t need me once your set up.”
“Aye, sir. With pleasure!” said the Brit before taking a quick breath in and firing on his exhalations.
“Lieutenant Dietz, be advised,” spoke gunny into his helmet’s headset, passing the info on. “We’ve engaged multiple hostiles on a cliff to the southeast; seems like they were prepping something, how copy?”
Ten-Four; keep ‘em contained and let me know what else comes up. How copy?
“Aye, sir. Solid copy, out.”
Gunny turned just in time to see a changeling’s bolt strike the barrel of the Corporal’s rifle from the ground, bending it and rendering it unusable.
“CUNTS!” yelled Marcus, dropping his rifle in frustration.
“And they’ve retreated from the cliffside!” stated Sidney, still managing to peer through the dust with his detached scope. “Looked like you managed to nail most of ‘em though, mate. Nice work.”
He had lowered his scope and was looking away before doing a double-take.
“Crikey,” said the Australian Private in awe as his eyes went wide.
In response, everyone but Shifty, who still vigilantly watched the stairs, came to look out of the opening to see green fireballs raining down from above; the cliff being their origin.
“They’ve turned their spears into mortars!” Sidney deadpanned before turning and running to the stairs. “And piss off! There are way more than I thought!”
Those last two words were spoken as he jumped past Shifty and began rapidly descending the stairs.
“What?” asked a very confused young Private.
“Sid’s got the right idea,” said Alvarez pointing a hand towards the stairs that the private had just leapt down. “Move!”
“Wait, the fuck’s going on?!” asked the still confused American Private as his teammates ran past.
“Don’t ask, just run!” squawked Jenkins, holding his helmet as he sprinted past.
Whiiirr-BOOM!!!
“Oh, fuck me!” came the Private’s realization upon hearing/feeling the explosion from outside, which was only to be followed by much, much more.
. . .
First Lieutenant Danial Dietz stood just outside the saloon where his marines had set up their “HQ”; he was looking up at the condensed, green changeling magic raining down like artillery. He followed the path of one such projectile with his eye, watching it crash and explode between him and the clocktower, directly hitting one of his marines and vaporizing her in the middle of the dirt street!
Suddenly, Jenkins, along with the rest of the Fireteam Icebreaker, emerged from the settling dust, sprinting towards the officer.
“Lieutenant Dietz!” yelled the PFC right before a green ball of fire plowed into the clock tower behind him, making it explode in all directions, and rain down wooden splinters and shards of broken glass from above. “They`ve got us zeroed! We gotta spread it out!”
The officer quickly connected to all frequencies as he ran back inside.
“Alpha platoon, this Lieutenant Dietz. I want a perimeter around the town of at least a half mile!” he ordered. “If you’re inside a building, leave now! I want air support called in and strafing that goddamn cliff ASAP!”
. . .
Icebreaker ran and ran as fast as they could, past the train station (right before it too was blown apart by two changeling fireballs) and past many a cactus through the surrounding desert, before Gunnery Sergeant David Alvarez finally held up his fist.
“Alright, stop! Stop!” he ordered as he slowed to a halt, the explosions still going off behind them all. “This is far enough away…catch your breath boys…”
They all dropped to either their bums or knees, and there they sat with weary breaths, watching the barrage continue to decimate the town. Marcus held the MA5D assault rifle that had belonged to the marine they saw get vaporized just moments before; he had taken it to use as his primary weapon since his sniper rifle had been severely damaged moments earlier.
The Brit dropped it onto the ground for all to see.
“They’ve managed to find yet another way to kill us,” he said as he simply pointed at it, still with shortened breath. “How the hell did we make it out of that?!”
“It ain’t the first, or the worst, barrage we’ve survived,” said Sergeant Alex. “That’s for sure.”
“We still got pretty lucky. Those green fireballs aren’t the only things killing,” said Jenkins, pointing at his chest. “I saw one guy get hit with this massive, wooden shard! I think it impaled him though the heart; it was going so fast!”
“Jesus…” was all Alex could respond with as he looked down and massaged the vein in the middle of his forehead.
Their thoughts were interrupted by the flyover of a pair of F-41 Broadsword strike fighters, zooming towards the cliff where presumably dozens of changelings awaited their demise, hidden from the ground.
After just a couple of strafing runs, the barrage was silenced, and the marines could begin their cautious walk back into town.