The Fall of Codicina
The Fall of Codicina
By Aecas
By the chronometer on his wrist it was approaching noon, but the warm humid air had a clammy chill it its embrace today. Corporal James Grissom of the United States Colonial Marines let his Pulse Rifle hang loose from its shoulder strap, the Coyote squinted as he looked up at the harsh sunlight that beat down on him before he cuffed perspiration from his eyes and focused on the task at hand, carefully opening the locking panel on the door in front of him. He pulled out his code splicer, and carefully attached its data plugs into the locks innards before he tapped in a series of commands, that lit up the small screen in front of him with tiny rows of data.
It took him less than 30 seconds to crack the doors code and as his finger hovered over the button that would issue the open command he glanced over his shoulder at Major Batick. The German Shepherd was tensed, his Pulse Rifle firmly snuggled against his armpit, sweat trickling down his brow and onto the cold stock of the gun, and he wasn't sweating just because of the heat. None of them were.
"What the hell are you waiting for Corporal!?" Batick hissed.
Grissom gave a slight shrug of his shoulders, he didn't know what he was waiting for, only that doubt gnawed away at his belly like a nest of hungry rats, he didn't know why he was here save from what Batick had told him and the others in their platoon that morning. They were to send out a small squad to find out why a pumping station on this backwater world hadn't checked in for three days.
"Simple enough..." Grissom thought to himself as he pressed the button and unplugged his splicer as the door began to slowly open from the bottom up. The Coyote grabbed his Pulse Rifle once more, swinging it up to his shoulder and keeping a close eye on the slowly rising door , Batick and the six other men assigned to the mission hugged the closest wall, the Major himself ready to lead by example. This was the worst part of the job Grissom knew, everyone was keyed up as you waited to go through a dark door and face god knows what on the other side.
But dammit they were the Marines! More disciplined, hardy and determined soldiers you'd be hard pressed to find! Grissom resisted the urge to smile as he remembered the drill sergeants hammering that macho BS into their heads every day and night when he was back in boot.
They'd reached the pumping station earlier that morning, a tight cluster of machinery barns and mass-produced habitats for the colonists who worked to keep it in working order. It stood as a confluence of irrigation channels, which fed water to over a dozen farmsteads in this area alone, and water was a precious commodity on this dust bowl Grissom thought glumly. The worrying thing was that since they had arrived they had seen no sign of life, not even any of the local vermin that were always around. And once they had gotten inside with no answers to their calls or on the vox it had been so hot and humid that they had started to wonder if the environmental controls had shorted out.
The door finally reached its apex and the major went straight in, Pulse Rifle aimed and raised as the rest of the Marines flooded in behind him. They were greeted with a small hydroponics workshop, all manner of flora sitting and sewing away in carefully organized environments, the ceiling was high above them and made up entirely of glass and steam filled the room from the series of bins and trays that lay all around the room. Water dripped down on them from above as they carefully filed down the walkways that kept them above more horticulture that had been placed on the ground, the heat was unbearable as if they had just walked out of the desert and straight into a jungle.
The marines fanned out, four of them pressing deeper into the complex as Grissom stayed with Batick and PFC Manvers as they searched the hydroponics, sweat dripping liberally from their uniforms in the oppressive heat.
"Major? I think I've got something here..." Manvers called, looking at one of the treatment vats.
Grissom moved over to join the PFC as the major quickly followed, all three looking with disgust at a transparent stick mucus that had all but drowned the plants inhabiting the tank. More seemed to be dripping from the ceiling but there was nothing visible through the steam. None of the three had any horticultural training and they had a good idea from the stories they had heard what the stuff in the vat might be.
Batick cursed as Manvers swallowed audibly, the German Shepherd shaking his head angrily, trying to look everywhere at once.
"Burn it. Burn everything! Get Simmons in here with his flame unit!"
Grissom was just about to make the call when gunfire erupted further into the building, seven short frantic bursts and then a chattering roar as several Pulse rifles opened up at full auto at the same time. The four marines who had pressed on suddenly erupted over the comm net with frantic, panicked voices punctuated by sporadic gunfire before an ear splitting scream momentarily blocked the comm net, drowning out everything until it ended and the sounds of combat resumed once more.
Boots hammered the grating as Grissom, Batick and Manvers ran towards the fighting, the Major in the lead as they raced towards Group Two. They burst into a vehicle pool for the pumping station, several big wheeled trucks populating the room along with the sharp smell of oils and petroleum, they found what was left of two bodies on the floor. One of them was Simmons the units sole flamer man, the weapon and his right arm lying a foot away from his corpse, the ignition flame still burning brightly. Manvers tried not to retch as they looked at what was left of the men, both of them looked like they'd been but through a meat grinder and Batick quickly snapped his fingers and signaled with his right hand, indicating that the three of them should spread out and look for the rest of Group Two.
The three slowly crept through the gloom, jumping at shadows as they searched for any viable targets, Grissom found another of Group Two leaning against the wheel of one of the cargo trucks. The Wolf had been decapitated and his head was nowhere in sight, grimacing in distaste Grissom began to move out of the pool of blood that surrounded the corpse peering up at the back of the cargo truck. A 3 foot high fleshy egg sat squarely in the centre of the trucks cargo hold, the thick fleshy lips dried out indicating that it had been exposed to the humid air for some time. The head of the Wolf lay next to the egg and Grissom shuddered at the expression of horror imprinted on that lupine face before gunfire erupted behind him.
The Coyote spun around just as a scream cut the air and Manvers' body sailed through the air, blood and flesh spurting from a huge rent in the young Fox's chest as more erupted from his muzzle.
Muzzle flashes from Major Batick's Pulse Rifle cast crazy shadows in the gloom of the vehicle pool, and the shadows moved with it, things with oily black carapaces and steel bright teeth, lashing tails, rending claws and long sleek heads.
The creature tore Major Batick in two at the waist, as easily as Grissom would have ripped a sheet of paper in two, the two halves of the German Shepherds body falling left and right, the Pulse Rifle still firing as nerveless fingers gripped the trigger. The thing hurtled forwards covered in the major's blood as it bounded towards Grissom.
It was almost on top of him and he knew all too well what it was. He howled with fear and started to fire at the nightmarish shape.
Alien...
* * * * *
Grissom woke up with a cry of horror, heart pounding in his chest, the fur of his body slippery with cold sweat as he shuddered on his bunk, blinking as he struggled to get his breathing under control. It had been three weeks since the nightmare at the pumping station, he'd been the only one to make it out of that hell alive and he couldn't shake off the experience no matter how hard he tried. He'd had battle-shock before in his career, he'd been with the Corps for 6 years and was a well respected veteran but everything he had seen before paled in comparison to the sheer sense of horror and dead that the Aliens provoked inside him.
Alien...
The Coyote shuddered involuntarily trying to push the images to the back of his creaking mind as he slowly climbed off of the narrow cot that served as his bed in the moderate barracks. He pulled out a half clean towel and wiped the worst of the sweat from his body, concentrating on drying himself off to forget about the sleek chitinous limbs and their deadly claws and...
"Stop it." He said into the towel, forcing down the fear that struggled to take hold of him once again before he threw the towel to the floor and pulled on a fresh uniform, straightening it out before he began to strap on his armour and the rest of his gear. As he worked he glanced at a small holo photograph that sat on the small chest next to his bed, his wife and two children smiled back out at him from the small picture, their loving familiar faces helping to scour away the memories for a few moments, replacing the bad with the good.
He finished snapping on the last of his armour and pulled on his helmet, flicking the mic down to his muzzle and activating the vox, almost immediately terse commands were audible over the general channel and he stooped, picking up his pulse rifle and slinging it over his shoulder before he plucked the hollow of his family from the chest and tucked it safely away in a pocket. He took a deep breath and let his fingers linger on the picture for a moment, he could hear the sounds of men and machines outside and he knew he had to get active if he was going to shake this lethargy from himself, had to keep himself occupied.
He stepped out of the barracks, immediately narrowing his eyes as the harsh sunlight assailed them, already feeling fresh sweat beginning to prickle on his brow as he walked further into the colony, passing by growling trucks and APC's as fat drops of warm rain began to fall from the sky. The weather patterns had become increasingly erratic in the three weeks that had passed since the incident at the pumping station, and now the baking sun combined with the beating rain, quickly turning the hard backed earth of the surface into mud. The buildings glistened eerily from the combination of rain and sunshine and the vehicles sluiced through the rapidly congealing mud as they struggled to hurry the off planet evacuation.
Grissom picked his way carefully through the hubbub of activity; he'd killed the thing. Blown it apart with his Pulse Rifle and two more just like it, he felt a momentary stab of pain in his chest as he remembered the acidic blood searing through his body armour and scorching his chest. He'd kept his head in that hell hole and had finally been able to collapse the pumping station in on itself with seismic charges.
"Thank god for demolitions training..." He though to himself, it had taken him 20 hair raising minutes and his entire satchel of charges to mine the pumping station and as soon as he'd gotten out of the complex he'd blown it, watching with grim satisfaction as it imploded on itself, crushing whatever was left of the Alien's beneath countless tons of rubble and metal scrap. He'd kept his head, his helmet camera had recorded everything that had happened and nobody put him at fault for his actions, the very same actions that helped to warn the marine command on the planet and start the evacuation that had already saved countless lives.
So why didn't it make him feel any better?
Grissom caught sight of Lieutenant Colonel Schaeffer supervising the evacuation and loading of the civilian trucks along a larch stretch of flat road that led out of the colony towards the planets small Starport some 350 miles distant, the other colonies were also being evacuated and the Starport and its cousin were almost choked with refugees. Grissom shook his head slightly as he jogged towards the Tiger, the Colonel looking hot and flushed as more and more teraformers clustered around him, begging him to let them take more of their valuable equipment off world with them.
Schaffer broke away from the crowd as he saw Grissom approach, leaving his aide to reassure and shoo away the settlers as he scowled.
"These colonists are going to be the death of me!" He muttered. "I just want to get them, their loved ones and their basic possessions out of here but all they're worried about is their terraforming equipment! Machines can be replaced, loved ones can't." The Tiger took a deep breath and growled with frustration. "I've half a mind to tell them exactly what you saw Grissom."
"And cause a mass panic sir?" Grissom said with a sad smile.
"No..." Schaffer said and sighed heavily before he looked at Grissom curiously. "I thought the medics confined you to barracks and told you to rest until further notice?"
"I'm going stir crazy in there sir. I....I just can't shake what happened in there...its like its bored deep inside my head and won't come out...I need something to occupy myself before I...I..."
Schaffer nodded, the Tiger placing a reassuring hand on Grissom's shoulder and shaking it slightly. "I understand James. What we really need more than anything else right now is drivers, we need to send the first group out soon at 17:00 and the other colonies will be doing the same so it'll pay to get there first before more of those goddamn bugs show up."
"And if it boils down into a fight sir?" Grissom asked quietly, turning a speculative eye on a nearby truck, the type that he'd be driving.
Schaffer grinned and slammed his fist on Grissom's shoulder guard. "Then we show those Alien fuckers what it means to mess with the Colonial Marines! We've got just under 20,000 men planetside, and another 10,000 up there." He said, pointing skywards where the faintest glimmers in the sky revealed the location of the heavy transport barges and cruisers that hung in orbit above the planet.
"That's reassuring." Grissom said, and he meant it. "The incident at the station may have just been an isolated incident but its good to know we're prepared..."
Schaeffer nodded and then growled again clenching his fists in frustration. "To think that it had to come to this. Those bastards at Weyland-Yutani never listened to any of the warnings! They always wanted to experiment with these fucking things and look where its got us! Every day more and more planets are reporting Alien infestation, they infiltrate a planet and before anyone knows it they're being overrun, just like Codicina..."
"What?!" Grissom said, startled by his commanders words.
"Didn't anybody tell you?" Schaffer said incredulously.
"Tell me what...?"
Schaeffer drew in a deep breath and looked Grissom levelly in the eyes. "Three hours ago we lost contact with the Colony in the Delta quadrant. The last images we received from the colony before we lost all contact was...a...a SEA of those things"they overran the place in minutes..."
Grissom felt his entire body go numb at the scale that Schaffer was suggesting. "H..how could there be so many...?" he said weakly, feeling that worm of fear returning and boring deep into his guts.
Schaffer shifted uncomfortably. "I'm not even supposed to be telling you this, but Delta wasn't the first colony to go under." He growled as he saw the look of horror on Grissom's face replaced by incredulity. "Weyland-Yutani again..." He hissed. "Still trying to cover their mistakes, neglected to reveal that two previous colonies had been infiltrated and steadily destroyed by the creatures. They set up fake communications in an effort to hide what was going on, we only found out about this when we sent scouts to both colonies after your little adventure at the pumping station."
Grissom sagged against the side of the truck, his mouth working but no words came out of it as he began to shake his head. This couldn't be happening, this was beyond the term "worst case scenario" and straight into the region south of FUBAR. Schaffer snapped him out of it with another light smack to the shoulder guard.
"Get yourself to a truck and get ready to leave, alright?"
Grissom nodded mutely and staggered away into the confusion to find himself a ride as Schaffer turned, hearing his aide calling his name.
"What is it?"
"They're coming sir!"
* * * * *
The huge leviathan forms of bulk transports slowly descended through the slashing rain, down to the landing pads of the Starport, others being diverted to the hard flat ground around the port when there was no more space available. The hard baked ground drank up the water thirstily, the solid surface slowly beginning to soften and turn into mud as the vast cargo doors of the transports slowly opened up and thudded into the liquefying ground, APC's, Tanks and truckloads of Marines disgorging from the bowels of the craft. High up in the main control tower of the Starport General D'anclaude swept his magnoculars across the rows of fighting vehicles and men, even in his high position he could hear the rumble and growl of the engines as they powered out into the muddy grounds.
The Lion nodded with satisfaction as he let the magnoculars drop down to his chest, a textbook dispersal, the armour spreading out as they sped towards their pre determined positions. Colonel Ross knew exactly what he was doing and through the slashing of the rain the slight blue haze of clear skies was rapidly approaching. With clear visibility on their side there was no way they would be caught napping. Dropships buzzed around the Starport, ferrying down extra troops and patrolling the outskirts of the area keeping a sharp eyed watch for the Alien activity that was reportedly on the increase. Ideally, D'anclaude would have liked to have nuked the affected colonies but Weyland-Yutani had boycotted that action before it had left the planning table. The Company was determined to drown and cover its mistakes in paperwork and pomposity and eventually D'anclaude had caved in, not because he cared about what those REMF's thought about the situation but because the longer they waited the less colonists would make it off of Codicina.
One of his adjutants approached, his bots clanking on the decking before he handed the General a hard copy message.
"Reports are in from all the evacuation sites sir." The adjutant said as D'anclaude quickly began to scan the message. "Most of the colonists are already on their way towards us and the secondary Starport respectively. Colonel Schaffer also wishes to inform you that his convoy will be on route at 17:00."
D'anclaude nodded, he knew Schaffer would get the job done, the Tiger was a good man and a reliable one who had served under D'anclaude in four separate theatres of war in the past 10 years. Then he frowned a tapped an entry mid way down the list.
"And what about this? Colony Kappa?"
"They haven't embarked either General, and they haven't made contact to explain. I don't know what the hold up is."
"Then vox them and find out. And tell them that I'll skin them alive if they aren't ready to leave in 30 minutes."
"Yes sir."
The tower shuddered as another bulk transport flew low over the building towards its designated landing spot, the adjutant glanced at a manifest clutched in his left hand and nodded lightly.
"The Aurora sir. Right on schedule."
Heavy footsteps sounded from the stairwell and Colonel Ross himself strode onto the command deck of the control tower, a bear hugely muscled and running to fight, yet that deceptively soft exterior concealed a prodigious strength. He removed his cap, shaking rain from its brim before slipping it back on his head, walking over to D'anclaude and saluting the General smartly.
"Reporting in person General sir. We're ready for immediate mobilization, where do you want us sir?"
D'anclaude smiled and returned the salute before he warmly shook the Bear's hand and lead him over to an electronic map table that displayed a flat view of the planet's surface and the locations of the colonies, affected and fleeing alike.
"I'm afraid for the moment we're playing watchdog. Some of our Marines uncovered several of the things in an old pumping station three weeks ago and rang the alarm bells. Since then we found out that the bugs have been on this planet longer than those idiots at Weyland-Yutani led us to believe."
Ross grimaced. "As long as they keep their pockets lined they don't care. One of these days somebody is going to have to take them down a peg."
"Careful Ross." D'anclaude said with a touch of warning in his voice. "I agree with you wholeheartedly but if those words reach the wrong ears it'll be your neck on the block next."
The Bear grunted but nodded as he leant over the map table, quickly studying the situation as D'anclaude placed a finger on the colony that was ear marked as "Omega."
"I want you to move your men South. Omega is where the warning was first broadcast and they are the most outlying of all the colonies. They might need support if trouble starts in their area and worst of all they're lagging."
"We'll embark at once and meet them on route."
"Good man." D'anclaude said and turned to the adjutant once more with a scowl. "Any word from those fools at Kappa yet?"
* * * * *
They'd been at the Kappa colony for less than six hours and already Private Stokes was moaning about how he could sense something bad was coming. The Marines were loading up the remaining transports, they were badly behind their time frame and had to work quickly if they wanted to get out of here, Sergeant Barclay tossed another crate up at Stokes and snarled at him to shut the hell up.
"Of course there's something bad coming you fucking moron! Why in the hell else would we be stuck here in the pouring rain?! That's why we're here! That's why we're busting our arses loading boxes onto a bunch of crapped out trucks! And that's why we have to get these idiot colonists out of here to the transports so all of us can get out of here! Something bad alright Private! Something really fucking bad!"
Stokes looked down at the angry Wolf, a look of sick worry and fright on his face and Barclay growled.
"Don't look at me like that Stokes!" Barclay snapped as he turned to look at the other Marines who had paused in their work. "None of you!"
The marines shifted uncomfortably and Barclay shook his head angrily. "For Christ's sake lads we're the Colonial Marines! The only reason we're sent to backwater dust bowls like this is BECAUSE there's something bad going on! You knew that when you signed up for the corps! People like these colonists need us and they're always thankful that we're heard to save their dirt scrabbling arses because something bad is over the horizon. Now get these greats stowed and secured and keep telling yourselves this..."
Barclay lowered his voice and grinned at the men of his platoon. "We're the Colonial Marines, we're the baddest stone cold motherfuckers this side of the universe and whatever's coming had better be really fucking bad because when it gets here we're gonna kill it so many times it'll wish it had never been born!"
The men cheered and the bravado even brought a smile to Private Stokes' glum face as the Marines set back to work with a vengeance, proving that a little macho tough talk could go a long way. Quietly however Barclay wished that he knew what they were up against, only the top brass had any idea and they were keeping tight lipped about it, the Wolf had his own ideas but it could still be any number of things.
"Repeated signals from the major Starport Sarge." Goss, the squads radio man reported quietly.
"Yeah, yeah so what?"
"It's the general himself Sarge, he wants to know why we haven't moved."
Barclay hurled down the crate he was holding and turned towards Goss. "We aren't moving because Major Hunnet hasn't issued us with any bloody orders that's why! Tell him that!"
"I did Sergeant but he wants to know why."
Barclay growled with frustration, grabbing his Pulse Rifle and striding across the courtyard as the rain sliced down. "Tell the "good" General I'm going to look for the Major myself."
Barclay walked into the colonies main hall, he'd seen Major Hunnet and two Marines walk into the building two hours previously and nobody had heard anything from them since. Inside the building the air was damp, hot and oppressive, Barclay punched in the command for the lights but none responded leaving the building dark and foreboding. The Wolf activated his shoulder lamp and panned the small circle of light around him, revealing nothing but the carnage that had followed the loading as they had stored as much equipment in the hall as they could. There was plenty of rubbish but no Major Hunnet, and no response when he called out the Major's name.
Slightly unnerved by the dark silence that surrounded him Barclay called for five of his men to stop what they were doing and grab their gear, the Marines quickly jogged over to join him in the hall, Pulse Rifles held at the ready as they switched on their shoulder lamps.
"Spread out." Barclay ordered quietly, taking Stokes with him as the other four split into two groups and began to pick through the administrative blocks that lay deeper inside the hall.
It was Stokes who had the dubious pleasure of finding Major Hunnet, the two Marines and at least half a dozen colonists. What was left of them anyway. Blood and bone meal and other less identifiable body parts flooded the floor and painted the walls of the general managers office, bullet holes riddling the walls all around. There wasn't a single recognizable features left on the fragmented corpses and Stokes retched, the Weasel throwing up and falling to his knees in the sea of gore which only made him heave again as Barclay tried to stammer a report into his helmet vox.
Something stirred on the ceiling above the two Marines, the Alien uncurling from its dormant state and dropping silently to the floor, the six inch spike that capped the end of its tail lashing through the air and half decapitating Stokes as he puked. The Weasel gagged and fell back, convulsing as blood spurted from his ruined throat as Barclay recoiled in horror bringing his Pulse Rifle to bear and opening up on the insect like horror before him.
"Bug! Bug!" He shrieked over his radio as he mowed the creature down in a hail of bullets. A low hissing began to sound all around him, and Barclay's already frayed nerves snapped, the Wolf turning tail and running through the doors back into the main hall.
The vox channel was alive with panicked shouts, screams and gunfire all rolled up into one hellish mix of noise. Barclay ran into two of his search party and quickly dragged them with him, taking cover against a large wall as he breathlessly told them what he had just seen
A massive taloned hand punched through the wall and the chest of the nearest trooper in an explosion of blood and powdered concrete, the body spasmed once and then toppled to the floor as the claw withdrew before a vast spiked tail impaled the second trooper, lifting him from the ground as he clutched futilely at the hard bone that protruded from his chest. Barclay staggered back in horror as the tail was messily withdrawn and then the wall shattered as something huge tore its way through it, the Wolf stared in horror at the huge Alien before him before he fled, the Praetorian guard hot on his heels.
The evacuation convoy was still where he had left it, and now it would never get away, several of the trucks had been overturned and others still were on fire, a piercing scream sounded behind the fleeing Wolf as the Praetorian pounced on a luckless colonist, tearing the woman apart limb from limb in less than a second before it darted on searching for another victim.
Barclay vaulted over a low wall and clutched his Pulse Rifle close to his chest as a dozen settlers ran in panic, fleeing aimlessly as they were trapped inside the colony. The group drew the attention of the Praetorian, which hissed like an express chain as it charged after them. One colonist screamed as talons tore through his back, the Alien not even pausing in its stride as it shook the corpse from its claws, blind unreasoning terror drove the colonists and they never realized that the Alien was herding them. The remaining eleven colonists ran further into the colonies only having enough time to realize that they had fled straight into a cul de sac before the Praetorian plowed into them.
Barclay shuddered as he listened to the hideous screaming that tore the air all around him, he knew he'd never forget those terrible sounds, just as he knew he likely wouldn't live more than a few minutes longer. The Wolf took a deep breath, and pushed himself back up to his feet running towards the head of the convoy, glimpsing three Aliens peeling apart a truck to get at the terrified colonists inside through the rain and they heavy smoke.
By the foremost truck he found Goss' decapitated body, ripping the radio form the corpse he leapt into the cab of the foremost truck, feverishly starting the engine as he flicked the radio onto the emergency channel.
"Alien Incursion in colony Kappa! Repeat....!"
But there was no time to repeat as claws slashed and sliced into the cab of the truck, pulverizing the flimsy barriers and reaching for the Wolf within as all around the drones dragged wailing colonists into the tunnels towards a long and lingering death.
The last contact from colony Kappa was a piercing shriek of agony, the horrific sound trailing on for longer than it should have been physically possible before it was abruptly ended with a tearing sound and a wet gurgle.
* * * * *
The vox link went dead and D'anclaude turned away from his adjutant for a moment, staring pointedly at the map as he tried to compose himself, the sound, that horrific scream had shaken him to his core. He'd seen a lot in his career but never heard anything as terrified or agonizing as that scream that had echoed across the channel.
The skies finally cleared and the sun streamed back onto the muddy ground, the Lion was about to signal Colonel Ross' force which had left a bare hour before the transmission had arrived before all hell broke loose. The one thing the company had never bothered to explore about the planet was the incomprehensible maze of caverns and caves that riddled its crust, the Alien's now infested this rats warren of tunnels, a perfect network to the surface above. The Queen, deep in her lair below the surface knew every inch of the caverns from her Drones, she knew exactly where to strike and her Drones could feel the vibrations in the earth above them.
She reared her antlered head and sent out a silent keening cry as another egg slipped form the birthing sac to be taken away to the brood chamber, her huge head looked left and right as even the massively armoured forms of her Praetorian's left the chamber to join in the attack. None of the host bodies above knew she laired here, and the strongest of her brood would be invaluable, slaughtering those who resisted and bringing the survivors to her. She remained in the birthing chamber, experiencing the actions through the minds of her drones and her personal guard and watched the carnage unfold.
Deep in the bowels of the Starport a taloned hand smashed through the steel panels of the floor, others joining it, diamond hard claws rending the steel and rock before black chitinous bodies began to pour out of the gap like ants from a hive. All around the Starport the scene was repeated, the Marines taken completely by surprise, many hardly having time to register that there were Aliens in their midst before they went down under a hail of flashing claws and gnashing teeth.
D'anclaude stared in horror at the scene developing beneath him, a sea of black flooding through the complex, even the bulk ships were not spared, their massive flanks being slowly consumed by a black tide as Aliens smashed and tore their way inside, hunting for the warm living bodies within. Screams and gunshots sounded from the bowels of the command tower, the sounds getting slowly louder as the staff officers desperately barricaded the doors with whatever came to hand. Only a handful were armed and D'anclaude stood with them, slowly unholstering his sidearm, it would make no difference to an Alien he knew unless he shot it in the open mouth.
The Lion closed his eyes, trying to blot out the screams of his men, cocking his sidearm, the staff following suit as the aimed the pathetic arsenal at the door as gunfire sounded from right outside before a choking scream replaced it.
There was a long terrible silence as the cry finished, the sounds of fighting still audible in the Starport below, ships exploding as the bodies of slain Aliens dissolved the vital sip components with their acidic blood, the blood reaching the deeply buried fuel cells on some and detonating the gigantic ships in huge gouts of flame and shrapnel, scything down men and Aliens alike. Dropships desperately strafed the masses and still the assault continued, the hive cared not for the horrendous casualties, only that all others were scourged form the planet or kept as breeding stock, and all this pressed in on the Lion's ears but in the command room all was still quiet.
And then the door began to shudder.
* * * * *
The evacuation convoy was less than three hours out from the Omega colony when they saw the change in weather patterns hundreds of miles in the distance ahead of them, the rain continued to slice down, reducing visibility to a mere handful of meters even with the powerful headlights of the trucks. Grissom wrestled with the wheel of Truck Unit 471, the wipers working over time as he squinted through the water washing over the windshield, cursing and crunching the gears of the unit as he struggled to keep in formation with the rest of the two kilometer long line.
"Jesus what the hell is that?!" Private Gates asked as he gawped and squinted through the windshield into the distance. A bright orange smudge seared the horizon, the way it moved meant that it could only be fire, and for them to see it all the way out here it had to be one hell of a fire...and there was only one place with enough combustibles in the vicinity to generate that inferno.
"Turn East! All vehicles turn East!" Schaffer's urgent voice crackled in over the comm channel set up between the vehicles. The convoy was slow to respond, trucks stalling and shunting one another as they all tried to make the turn at once in the pouring rain, two of them overturning as they left the flat of the road and entered the rough terrain of the open desert. Another four trucks broke their axels from the sudden transition but nobody stopped to help them, the convoy speeding away and leaving the desperate, screaming colonists to their fate.
"The Starport's gone!" Schaeffer yelled over the comm. "God knows how but there's nothing more than an inferno left up there! Head for the Secondary! Its our only chance off this rock!"
The planets secondary Starport was over 800 miles to the East, Grissom felt fear clench his guts once again. There was no way they'd ever reach the Starport in time.
He stamped the accelerator fully down anyway.
* * * * *
Ross' armoured convoy had plunged into the rain once more, the wheels and treads of the APC's, Tanks and trucks spurting up great gouts of mud as the convoy fled towards the Secondary Starport. The primary burned behind them and Ross knew that there wa no hope of them ever reaching the Omega convoy now, there was no hope left at all for this world.
Lighting began to crackle and thunder to rumble as the rains only intensified as warning shouts came over the comm net as the crew's night sights began picking up movement ahead of them.
A lot of movement.
Ross ordered the convoy on, and on it went, speeding through the mud and into the slowly growing army of aliens that awaited it, tank cannons thundered, blowing alien corpses high into the air in fountaining geysers of mud. Marines fired from the back of their troop trucks as APC's opened up with their turret guns, all of them pounding at the swarms that closed in on the beleaguered convoy. Ross' secondary gunner, flipped open the top hatch, rain immediately beginning to pour inside the tank as he grabbed the co-ax heavy machine gun mounted on the top and began to spray yet more rounds into the horde before them.
The rain helped to dilute the vicious acid blood of the Aliens, but it couldn't dilute it enough, the convoy surged on through the massed ranks of the insect like creatures, Ross had never dreamed there could have been so many on such a barren looking planet, or perhaps they had been here all along, remaining dormant after killing off the planets original population. His fevered musing were cut short as a loud groaning sound split the air and the tanks hull began to shudder. The acidic blood, diluted though it may have been was eating away the tank tracks and the wheels of the APC's and trucks alike. One by one vehicles began to fail and lurch to a halt, and one by one they were overwhelmed by the black tide.
Some Marines tried to abandon their troop trucks as they slid to a halt, firing desperately into the mass of chitin that surrounded them, others screamed and floundered in the sea of mud, the sheer volume of Alien blood making even the mud itself acidic, the dirt eating away at the boots and feet of the Marines as they fought their losing battle.
Ross felt his tank lurch to a halt as the treads finally snapped and whickered off, spraying rivets into the black mass beyond, his heart leapt into his mouth as clawed hands pounded the sides of the tank,. There was a gurgle from behind him and the secondary gunner's legs thrashed, his blood spurting into the tanks interior as he was hauled bodily from the cupola of the tank. Two huge hands gripped the open hatchway, the metal crumpled beneath those mighty limbs and with a shriek finally gave way, the huge semi antlered head of a Praetorian shoving its way into the tank through the rent it had torn. Ross futilely fired his Sidearm at the grinning face of the horrific creature as it pushed its way inside, the bullets flattening harmlessly against the hard chitin. The eyeless head contemptuously stared at the Bear as the gun ran dry before it tore at the tank once more, sinking its head fully inside the machine, its mouth opening wide and its powerful inner jaw punching through Ross's head in a welter of blood and brain matter.
* * * * *
The Omega convoy ran East, negotiating the treacherous rough desert had left another 8 trucks stranded and left behind before they had hit another major road, one of only two that led to the secondary Starport, the survivors of the convoy racing down the asphalt as fast as the trucks could carry them. The rain stayed with them, any hint of that blue sky now long gone as triple forks of green lighting began to lash the surrounding landscape and thunder rolled ominously above.
Gates was checking his Pulse Rifle, slapping a fresh magazine into it and checking the LED display that blinked a friendly 99 back at him before he began a spot check for any blockades. Grissom kept one hand on the wheel and pushed his own Pulse Rifle towards Gates from where it lay across his lap.
"Check mine too." He said before he grabbed the wheel with both hands once more, trying his best to see through the lashing rain that was causing a small river to flow across the windshield of the truck. Up ahead he only just had enough time to see the brake lights of the truck in front come on through the driving rain and he quickly mashed his own brakes down. The truck slithered and skidded but finally came to a halt, clipping the truck in front and smashing it forward several meters, Gates crying out in shock at the suddenness of the stop and the shuddering impact.
Grissom popped the driver's door of the cab and stepped out into the pounding rain as the vox came alive with shouting, the Coyote peering through the light of his trucks headlights at the obstruction ahead. Something detached itself from the truck ahead and landed on the bonnet of truck Unit 471, denting the metal under its weight as it crouched there for a second, a second that felt like an eternity to Grissom as he stared in horror at the Alien that grinned at him with its steel teeth.
Gates threw Grissom his Pulse Rifle and the Coyote desperately opened fire, the sudden volley blasting the Alien from the truck cap, knocking it back far enough before its deadly blood could damage the truck itself. Leaping back into the cab Grissom slammed the door shut and threw the vehicle into gear, pulling out around the truck ahead and accelerating down the road, joining a steam of others as they struggled to flee. The truck ahead of them swerved as something leapt onto the roof of the cap, lashing through the roof and sending the vehicle careening off of the road into a heavy mud filled ditch..
Four Aliens appeared in the headlights suddenly and Grissom stamped down on the accelerator, two of them were crushed into jelly beneath the heavy duty tyres while a third was knocked flying as the bull bars on the front clipped its sinuous body, the fourth, quicker than its brethren, leaping aside with an angry hiss. Gates was firing constantly out of the cab window, red-hot shell casings filling the cab and showering both Marines, the men grimacing in pain but desperately fighting against the urge to stop their painful actions as they struggled to keep themselves alive. A grinning Alien face appeared outside Grissom's window and he ducked as Gates sprayed fire across the truck cab, blowing the offender from the vehicle as Grissom swerved, narrowly avoiding an already burning truck ahead of them.
One of the few APC's that they had been able to bring with them drew level with the cab and Grissom quickly waved it on, falling in behind the armoured vehicle as its turret guns spat shell after shell into the darkness at targets the Coyote couldn't see. The truck was beginning to make a worrying sound, the wheels creaking and squealing and Grissom began to pray it would hold together as the APC lurched in front of them, smashing through Alien after Alien, even as the corrosive blood began to eat through its frontal armour.
Colonel Schaffer himself stood in the back of one of the trucks that they had modified into a technical, welding a heavy caliber gun onto the bed mounting of the vehicle. The Tiger stood braced in the pelting rain, the gun roaring as it spat a metre long muzzle flash into the darkness, shredding Alien after Alien with high caliber bullets. A deep cut scored the side of Schaffer's head, his helmet had been split by an Alien's tail but the armour had been just enough to save his life from the terrible blow, his gunner couched next to him as the truck bounced and jerked as it thundered down the road.
Schaffer's driver was shouting something to him but over the pounding rain and the thunder of the gun he couldn't hear a word, even when his gunner was dragged screaming from the bed of the truck Schaffer stood resolute. The Tiger fed the gun himself with one had unable to spare a though for his loader, his powerful arm braced against its shuddering trigger as he tried to clear a way for the flagging convoy. The Driver died as an Alien hurled itself bodily at the cab, smashing through the window and tearing the helpless Marine into tatters as he sat in his seat, the dead man's foot kept the accelerator pressed own hard and the truck accelerated as the Alien extricated itself from the cab and set its eyeless head on the Tiger who still attacked its brethren from the back. Schaffer was still firing into the darkness as the Alien smashed into him, claws plunged through his back, erupting from his stomach in a shower of blood , the Tiger's entrails grasped in two red stained hands. The Tiger fell to the deck of the truck, his powerful body shuddering as he looked up at the hissing form of the Alien, still holding its guts in his hands, Schaffer felt no pain as darkness rushed to claim him. The Tigers last act was to pull the pin on one of the grenades at his belt before his body fell limp to the bed of the truck, and the vehicle exploded in a shower of flame and metal, unfired bullets cooking off and firing sporadically into the horde as the burning wreck slid slowly to a halt.
Ten miles on there was no going forwards, the convoy had been chopped into pieces and was nothing more than a ragged mess, a far cry from the organized line that had started out from the Omega colony. Gates was blasting out of his window with his Pulse Rifle, Grissom doing the same as the truck's axles had been eaten away by the acid and the tyres had ruptured under its corroding kiss.
"Look!" Gates yelled pointing up at the sky where a dozen burning dots were hurtling through the night air towards them.
"Oh thank God!" Grissom gasped as he saw the familiar dragonfly shaped hulls of Marine Corps Dropships powering towards them, the craft skimming low, disgorging APC's from their bellies before rocketing up into the air and coming back down to strafe the Aliens with Miniguns and rockets alike, blowing huge swathes of the fiends apart as the APC's rumbled forwards, turret guns hammering as they struggled to relieve the beleaguered convoy.
Marines poured out of the APC's adding their weight of fire to the APC's and Dropships alike, spraying Pulse Rifle fire and Grenades alike into the seething mass of Alien's that surrounded the convoy. The sight filled Gates and Grissom with a new sense of hope and they redoubled their efforts, working with the newly arrived Marines as they leapt from the cab of their truck, running towards the new arrivals as they blasted at they insidious enemy, slowly driving the Aliens back through sheer weight of fire.
A loud hissing from behind him made Grissom turn in time to see a Praetorian hurtling towards them, Gates turned his Pulse Rifle on the thing but was ripped asunder before he could even pull the trigger. It kept coming at Grissom and the Coyote thumped a grenade into its gut at close range, the projectile punching into the Praetorian's carapace and exploding almost instantly after, the concussion striking Grissom like a blow and sending him somersaulting a good 10 meters through the air before he landed heavily in the mud.
Groaning from the harsh impact and feeling a sharp painful tightness in his chest he could feel that at least three of his ribs had been shattered by the concussion and subsequent rough landing. Grissom rolled painfully into a ditch by the road, half sinking in mud up to his waist, somehow he had kept hold of his Pulse Rifle and now he clutched it tightly to his chest like a talisman. Above him he could hear the sounds of gunfire slowly giving way to screams as the Aliens weight of numbers slowly began to tell and the newly dropped Marines found themselves bogged down in the convoys nightmare. The Dropships continued to strafe the Aliens but their ammunition was running low and their efforts were in vain, Grissom flinched as a Dropship suddenly exploded as it flew over head, the green forks of lightning lancing through the craft and tearing it asunder in an orgy of pyrotechnic violence. The other Dropships made one last run and then turned away, braving the storm as they had no choice but to leave those on the ground to their fate, and leaving Grissom momentarily ignored in the ditch as the screams began anew.
Grissom leant back against the cold mud of the ditch, wincing at the tight pain in his chest. He slowly took out the picture of his wife and their two young daughters, wiping away a curl of mud from its surface as he looked at their loving faces. Hot tears washed down his cheeks, sorrow as he knew he'd never see them again, never again be able to hold his wife close or hug his children, unable to even say goodbye to them. He kissed the holo once before placing it back in the pocket it had always inhabited, the pocket over his heart. He prayed to whatever Gods might be listening that they would watch over his family and not allow the horror that had befallen this world to fall on their innocent heads.
He slowly turned his Pulse Rifle around, pressed the barrel underneath his chin, and closed his eyes as he pulled the trigger.