rushed headlong through the carnage of their predecessors. Their numbers were enormous.
And again, the skies lit. And again, the rain fell. Support units prepared their short-range missile arrays, as did the mobile fortresses they accompanied. Bugs that had slipped through the mid-range assault were promptly targeted.
It didn’t matter. Even the weakest of the EDF’s missile weapons were enough to obliterate them on contact.
But still they come.
Their medium-range missiles depleted, the EDF loaded and fired their short-range missiles – panic beginning to infect the ranks of the humans. Plummeting headlong the bugs displayed no desire for self-preservation. There was no fear of death. No evasive maneuvers, no deviation of course.
The bugs had completely locked sites on them – unyielding, and undaunted. And for every bug they destroyed, 100 seemed to replace it.
Finally, the first rail gun sounded.
-=+=-
Short-range missiles and anti-aircraft fire lit the landscape as tracers burned their way through night skies. It was amidst the lights that G’hin-nj watched her comrade fall – rent unceremoniously by human fire as a viscous black fluid spurted into the air around her and splashed onto her armor.
Her best friend transformed into a lifeless husk G’hin-nj looked back to bid her farewell - N’has-re floating momentarily as if weightless before plummeting to the ground like a stone where the impact scattered what remained of her body to the 4 winds.
-=+=-
Cencom’s sensors were maxed. It was impossible for the station to keep a complete tally – but it was known that there were at least 60,000 kills and suspected that the numbers were closer to 90,000.
Silv looked on.
Over 90,000 killed by her meager force of 1200 … and still the swarm came … hurtling themselves mindlessly into their own destruction. She checked her displays – came up with an estimate.
“90,000 down, 20,000 to go…”
Summoning her strength Silv opened a channel to her troops on the field. For the last time, she smiled – her expression sensually devious as she started the transmission.
“New orders, troops. GIVE THOSE MOTHER FUCKERS HELL!”
Silv continued smiling, feeling only slightly pleased with herself as she plopped down in her chair – the cheers of her troops echoing through the control room.
Her expression turned serious.
Retrieving her phone, she made a call to her husband. She was relieved to find that he and her daughter had made it safely to the arena. She spoke to her daughter – bright and happy. Silv even spoke to that smart-assed doll of hers before her daughter got back on the phone.
“Never forget, baby, how much I love you. Never forget. You promise?”
She could hear the child’s smile as she said what would be the last words Silv would ever hear: “I love you too, Mommy. I promise!”
“Bye, baby. I have to go.”
Silv hung up, not waiting to hear her reply. Tears streaming down her cheek Silv’s head sunk. Slowly – so very slowly – she closed her eyes. Her voice was a whisper.
“I’m sorry baby. I’m so sorry.”
A short series of careful, deliberate, and paced movements drew her sidearm. Opening her tear-filled eyes she pointed it to the monitors – then to her own heart…
-=+=-
The sound of a gunshot startled Miho – who quickly broke free of her owner’s little games to check it out. One of the pyrotechnics set up for the football game had gone off – but without the resounding explosive effect that was to accompany it over the arena’s sound system. She shook her head and returned to watch the children.
Jensen himself was just returning with Trevor’s mother – who let out a gasp.
“Trevor!”
“Mommy!”
Trevor ran to his mother – jumping up as she lifted him into her loving embrace. “How can I ever thank you?” she asked.
Jensen simply shrugged.
She put the boy down – allowing him to continue playing with his new friends. “I’ve still got to find my husband. Would you?”
Jensen smiled. “He’s in good hands.”
-=+=-
Rand panicked.
His targeting computer flooded with potential targets, the “Z-Sort” was returning errors. Targets slipped through. Each firing of his massive gun resulted in the deaths of many, the survivors plowing through the smoke, and wreckage without regard.
He recognized it - a hive functioning as a pure hive mind. A single swarm tens of thousands strong hurtled at them headlong. Each missile, each shell from his rail gun – and each from the guns of his comrades – brought down one or more of them. They were killing off their attackers at an astonishing rate.
And still they come.
Then reality hit. Voice hushed, and mouth agape his eyes widened.
“They have more bugs than we have bullets to kill them with.”
An alarm tone snapped Rand back to reality as the crosshairs on his targeting system turned red. He pulled the trigger – shockwaves thundering through his beast as its rail guns sprung to life severing the upper-right torso of his attacker. The next shot pierced another bug’s abdomen - leaving a gaping hole. Striking the ground it bounced once then dug in creating a trench as it screamed by.
Rand’s next target found itself headless, black fluid spurting from the neck of the bug as its head flew back – caught by the momentum of the shell. Its body abruptly ceasing its forward charge it limply reoriented itself to land solidly on its hind legs – crumpling to the ground as black spurted from all points.
Rand realized many of them had been injured – even seriously – flying through the debris of their comrades.
And still they come.
The next shot took an arm and the next a leg. Then Rand’s guns sounded again decimating the bug that had attempted to use itself to clog the barrel. A cannon on his beast’s left arm registered malfunction. One had got in.
Sandy piped in: “I got it!”, and took aim – blasting one of the bugs that had clung to the side of Rand’s beast only to have three others slam into her headlong.
The piercing screams of his wingman echoed over the comm along with the groans of metal being ripped, and twisted.
Then silence.
His other wingmen continued firing on the bugs in a desperate attempt to keep them off of the mobile fortress – the bugs desperately clawing, shredding, and prying at the beast’s hardened armor plate. Striking the beast with incredible force they clung, crawling about her body, and clustering together so as to leave as much room for the others as they could.
Rand could hear them pounding, and grinding – a sound playing from Reggie’s comm as well - her cockpit flooding with red light as her monitors displayed a now constant flood of damage reports.
First, her weapons systems went down. Then she lost communications. Her radar shut off. Then visuals…
Power.
Unheard by her comrades-at-arms, Reggie screamed.
Collier had not lost visual – and was struggling to maintain foothold despite their place in the center of the swarm. He took a moment to glance at Rand’s once majestic mobile fortress – its skin now black, and crawling from the onslaught of bugs. Shreds of metal and disembodied parts flew away as the creatures clawed, bit, and burrowed their way inside.
Then they lost another wingman - Lynn's screams piercing his ears.
“Lynn!”
Collier rushed to her side while firing on the bugs in a futile attempt to save his friend as they leapt deftly away from her machine leaving an opening for his own fire to penetrate Lynn’s armor. Within seconds those same bugs had left Lynn’s beastie, and completely covered his own.
Panicked, he began making a series of jinking motions with his controls – his beastie dancing wildly about in response.
He wasn't shaking them.
And then he saw Lynn. The bugs had ext
racted her. One of them was holding her as she struggled against it – unable to break free. Targeting the bug’s head Collier pulled the trigger only to notice his guns cast sloppily away at his feet, and his missile stores depleted. It was only then that the sounds of them pounding and slashing their way through to the pilot’s compartment took over his already heightened senses.
Desperate now, he punched the eject button. Red lights flashed as a sickening thud, and a series of clacks answered Collier’s command along with a single, three-syllable word.
“Malfunction”
His attention went back to Lynn as the bug holding her used a single, enormous claw to reach out and slice through her body armor, and clothing – examining her like a child taking apart a favorite toy. Blood began flowing from the wound it created – a wound stretching from shoulder to knee. Lynn began to go visibly limp.
Lifting Lynn by her head, the bug cast simply cast her aside – dashing her body against Rand’s beast.
It was then that Rand’s voice broke in. He attempted to respond but his beastie was little more than the husk supporting his armored compartment. His beastie’s legs had been eaten through, and its weapons systems ripped from its body and cast off. It was as if they were slowly dissecting his