Setting
- 69 posts here • Page 3 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
They steadily walk through the forest, rifles at ease until they hear the song. Slowly, the lead individual raises a fist, and those behind them halt, coming to a quick stop before the signal is given to regroup. They each move to be closer to the people around them, forming a triangle, the box in the center.
"10-Charlie to TOC, we have an unidentified noise coming from somewhere. Continue with extraction?" the front individual whispers into a radio.
The radio buzzes with static in all of the member's earpieces with a response. "TOC to FOT-10, do you have eyes on the origin of the noise?"
"Copy, turning on ORDs to scan." Each of the soldiers press the lense of their face shields, and with a click, they begin to scan their surroundings, rifles raised.
"The fuck's that grinding noise?" one of the soldiers whispers to the person next to them, met with a shrug. Across from them, one guy raises his hand, throwing up a fist and then pointing. All of the Death Unit immediately turn, some crouching to allow for those behind them to get a bearing on the target.
The guy who called in the sighting whispers to the officer"Fuck, UL, ORD's are going fuckin haywire just staring at this thing. Can't get a solid recog," as the unit leader raises his hand to his ear to call it in.
"TOC, we have eyes. Distance is forty yards, armed with greatsword. Coming straight at us. Uh, fog is... following them... Sending visual.
"Copy, 10-Charlie. Visual received, hold ground until extraction. 20 minutes until FOT-13 can be there."
"FOT-13? Why the hell-" one of the soldiers says before being cut off by TOC again. "Be warned, FOT 10, base Optical Recognition System says this is almost definitely anomalous. Refrain from engaging unless absolutely necessary. Respond with Anti-Armor if provoked. Keep captive secure above all else. TOC out."
At the finishing of this sentence, all of the soldiers immediately and silently drop their magazines and replace them with ones marked with red tape, pulling the container into the center of their two-layer semicircle.
"Safeties off."
In a moment of confusion, though difficult to discern through those inky voids and her featureless mask, she emitted a strangled, choking sound, almost like a suppressed exclamation. Lifting her makeshift blade, she directed it toward the enigmatic box, the trembling of her muffled breaths now audible as they escaped her concealed form. She slowly turned her head to the side, her obscured gaze directing her attention downward through the blade's edge. Her slight tilt of the weapon seemed to convey a sense of curiosity about it, or perhaps a silent demand for an answer.
A raised fist brought everyone in the seven man group of Imperial Aschen marines to a standstill, they were wearing a faded dark green fractal camouflage pattern, along with their armored vests, gauntlets, and knee guards. Bounding overwatch through the trees, the Marine sergeant stopped to try and get a better look, eying through the trees with high-power auspex wide-spectrum goggles. Squinting, he couldn't make out the shapes.
"EVE, I need an analysis."
"Unable to comply, orbital data is missing, immediate tactical situation has too many variables."
"Right, weapons hot." He whispered, before moving his fist into two fingers, then he gestured forward as the Marines moved silently through the forest, and using the fog to their advantage, shrill electronic whines shrieked through the forest.
Following the shrill whines, there was silence.
"Fuck. That was a reaction," one of the men whispers, before the group erupts into chatter.
"What do we- Wait, fuck, one sec.""Shit, Charlie, we need to-" "Hey, someone call TOC-"
"CLEAR COMMS," comes the command from Charlie, the Unit Leader, and all immediately go silent.
"Echo, try talking to this fucking thing," orders Charlie, and a smaller man stands up from his kneeling position lowering his rifle as he withdraws a recorder from his vest, pulling down the lip of his balaclava as he does so. He turns slightly, looking at the Unit Leader, and whispers urgently, "What the fuck do I even say?" before being lightly shoved by the man behind him so that he stumbles forward, quickly letting his rifle fall onto his harness.
He holds out the recorder in front of him, and says, "Hello, we're the SEC Field Operation Team Ten. We're escorting a, uh, package out of here. We don't want any trouble, we'll be on our way sh-"
He's interrupted by a screech, causing him to drop his recorder before quickly stepping back into the line, fumbling with his rifle. The group is still for a moment before the crackle of comms interrupts them. "TOC to FOT-10, you have potential threat inbound from the fog. Audio analysis picked up disruptor charging, hold point. Radio beacon on, extract is in 18 minutes."
The group immediately rushes into action, six of them holding the Kreznik and the fog behind her at gunpoint, tightly gripping their weapons, as the others rush to activate a cylinder-shaped object that quickly projects a flat rectangle of white light in front of the forward line, seemingly some form of shield.
One of the soldiers, emboldened by the shield, yells out to Kreznik. "Hey, fuckin' metal face! Tell your buddies to fuck off, we ju-" He gets a stern look from Charlie, and quietly mumbles to himself before tightening his grip on his rifle, a SCAR-like platform with several mounted attachments, all painted a flat green and crimson.
"One shot one kill, conserve your fusion cells." The Sergeant whispered. "Weapons free, take them out so we can advance to the next objective."
Everyone acknowledged the order, and used their high powered holographic sights to pierce the dense fog and make out the soldiers and the unknown entity in the distance. A young corporal fired first, and the SEC Death team would be alerted to their presence first by a green flash that pierced the dense fog, immediately followed by a deafening crack as trees splintered into fiery chunks that spread all over. There was a second green flash, and another Disruptor bolt seared overhead, striking another tree in the distance, and splintering it. These inaccurate, and somewhat wild spread pattern indicated that the Aschen were perhaps near the Disruptor rifle's max range of about five hundred meters.
The cracks were muffled, a third streak of green light struck the ground in front of the barrier, leaving a pool of molten fulgurite that quickly cooled to ambient temp.
Under cover of fire, the team of Marines slowly began to advance, one group covering the other, using their weapons to try and garner the slightest hint of enemy suppression.
The Kreznik, while not initially concerned with these individuals, now saw them as obstacles and distractions. These were not the subject of her grudge, but that wasn't to say they were untainted. Far from it. But beyond that, she smelled something familiar, irritating, an itching feeling, making her twitch again as she cast vague eyes at the box again before shifting back a gaze, the fog swirling her form. The mysterious box was... a curiosity, leaving her to wonder what its contents might be. The situation was increasingly growing... noisy.
Then... the sound of something... a hiss, as something zips by, the fog disrupted, swirling, a green beam of light piercing it creating small rolls. A smell of ozone catches her nostrils even behind the mask. Those vague eyes, the senses, heightened, could catch it, a glimpse, and it was... hot? Magic? No. It was something very much of the tangible realm. Tech weapons. Another zips by, and another, soon there were trees being splintered by the volley, and yet the Kresnik stood, swaying just to avoid being hit, judging by each flash. Being hit, even for her would be unfortunate. An irritated wheeze escaped her as she weighed her choices, her enemy was not of mortal flesh, despite how tainted their souls were. This was less than ideal. And that box.
The rounds they fire, 308 Corporate, are specialty designed by their own company to function well at long distances and to break through armor, primarily in assassinations. There's no issue with range, and they begin to return fire in bursts from each section of the group, doing their best to strike center mass from the distance of 500 yards.
"Do NOT fucking shoot that creep with the horns," commands Charlie, and the group does their best to divert their fire past the Kreznik.
A bolt strikes the shield, flinging flecks of fulgurite through that strike some of the soldiers on their helmets and backs, burning slightly before cooling.
"TOC, we need firepower on extract, get in some Tyrant choppers or something, we fucking need them!" the unit leader yells into his mic.
"TOC to FOT-10, we'll be sending in FOT-11 and 12 to assist, but extract time has been pushed back six minutes. We're doing our best."
One of the soldiers crawls over to the UL, and pulls down the lip of his mask to yell into his mic over the bursts of gunfire. "SIR! WE NEED PERMISSION TO USE THE GRENADES!" The unit leader gives a moment thought and then nods, pressing a button on his headset three times. Four operatives raise themselves to their knees, pulling shortened grenade launchers from their belts that they attach to the side of their rifles. In sync, they all raise their guns and fire a volley, throwing forward four high-explosive rounds that detonate midair about seventy yards from the Aschen troops, and then move to reload.
"Extract in 22 minutes, FOT. Hold your ground."
I am unable to vector any assets to assist you at this moment, but I have began analyzing the enemy communication frequencies, and have analyzed their equipment… standby I will begin electronic countermeasures.
Quickly, and cleverly EVE Concocted a feint to try and get them to either pause, or disengage from the Imperial squad, using their communication systems, she began to send uncoded bitstream signals in the hopes the SEC squad or their handlers would be listening.
Attention all available Imperial fleet assets, strike team under attack by unknown enemy hostiles, please vector orbital strike assets to these coordinates… After a brief pause, a male voice would soon be heard. EVE, acknowledged distress signal, Punisher Class Battleship, Pugilist Grenadier is vectoring for orbital strike, standby for coordinate lock and heavy support… Making it seem to those listening in that the Marine team was calling for an orbital strike from a capital ship that may or may not exist, a plan that would aim to give them pause.
Failing that, the Demolitions specialist began creeping over an earthen berm as he leveled the sights of his 90mm Fuel Rod Cannon on the shimmering barrier in front of them. Serving as a spotter, and using a special wide spectrum scope to cut the fog, the Designated marksman honed in the sights of his beam rifle, and fired a single shot, sending a powerful, and brilliant pink beam of light searing towards the heads of one of the SEC Personnel, only to have the beam become distorted by the fog, and burrow through the thick trunk of a nearby tree.
As the Kreznik planted her blade into the ground, her form began to merge with the swirling fog. The mist itself took on a life of its own, pulsating and moving as if it had become sentient. Within the fog, vague humanoid silhouettes appeared, moving in a synchronized and eerie dance within the forest. Stilted motions, twitching, warping with the pulses in the fog. At first it was only a few, but as this goes on would increase.
One of the SEC units yells out to his comrades, "HEY! TARGET THE ORIGIN OF FIRE!" and immediately the wielder of the fuel rod cannon is met with a barrage of bullets and a two launched grenades that explodes above his head.
10-Charlie quickly reacts to the message received by contacting TOC. "TOC, you receiving that shit?"
"Copy, FOT. Switch shielding to overhead bubble, high concentration. Doing ASR scan now."
One of the men crawls over to the shielding beacon and pulls two levers, aiming the shield slowly overhead and then condensing it, which all of the soldiers move under before it turns into a half-sphere.
"Sir, battery says we have only 11 minutes left with this thing, what do we-"
"Shut the fuck up, I'm thinking," commands 10-Charlie, and the rookie turns and begins to return fire.
"Hey, Delta, do you have any leftover SMAW rockets from the takedown?" "Yeah, let me dig it out."
One of the units, spotting the sudden increase in silhouettes in the fog, notices that the Kreznik has disappeared. "Oh, fuck, uh, U-L! We have a FUCKING PROBLEM!" The unit leader turns from his crouched position, and seeing the outlines of humanoids, whispers an oath to himself. "Fuck, need immediate- NEED IMMEDIATE ILLUMINATION, LOAD STARBURST ROUNDS!" The soldiers with grenade launchers quickly load white phosphorus grenades, firing them into the air above the fog, quickly illuminating the area with streaks of burning light.
"TOC, situation is getting out of hand. Need air support fast, consider anti-air fighters."
"Sorry, FOT-10, we can't move any faster. AAF is not an option, mission is supposed to be quiet. Evac is in 17 minutes, get to the extract point ASAP."
"WE CAN'T FUCKING MOVE, YOU-" 10-Charlie shouts into his mic before being cut off by a loud buzz of the line going dead.
"FUCK!"
The Death Unit begins to slowly concentrate fire towards the disruptor rounds, some of the soldiers dropping out to change magazines, two of them carefully loading a SMAW rocket launcher.
"Hold your fire!" The Sergeant called out, raising his hand causing his men to duck further into cover and cease firing their weapons which granted the Death Squad a brief reprieve, even as both the Anti-Armor and Marksman both were suppressed by the hail of incoming fire.
"We need to flank them." The Sergeant whispered as he unclasped a spherical device from his load bearing vest, a powerful ECM Grenade designed to break an enemy's line of sight. Hurling it with all his strength, the grenade detonated between their positions releasing a charged chaff that was intended to jam thermals, and most other forms of sights, hopefully blinding them for a short time as the Marine Sergeant waved his hand, and directed his men to move immediately south, and perpendicular to the SEC Team to acquire a better field of fire.
Their weapons silenced, and the smokescreen up, the Marines began to move slowly away from their position, using the low visibility conditions to their advantage, even if the figures in the fog were frightening. "Only open fire if attacked, we must not give away our position."
As this chaos unfolded, the form of the Kreznik seemed to... no, did manifest from the fog, having repositioned behind the SEC. With course breath, more frustrated than before, she outstretched her hand once again and pointed at the box pumping arm more furiously, a guttural utterance emitted from behind the mask. She then outstretched another arm, and with a grinding sound etched with a finger deep into the trunk of a tree, one word:
"WHAT"
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The UL turns, hearing the sound of the scraping, and flinches back for a split second before lowering his rifle. "Fuck, TOC, what do I tell this thing? What does it want?" "TOC to FOT, extract is in 12 minutes. Begin hostility measures towards threatening anomalies. Recommended to attempt contact with both enemy force and the masked one." The UL quickly patches into radio comms on the local frequency, broadcasting to anything that could be received.
"This is the SEC Field Operation Team 10 to hostile forces, be warned, you are being given a chance to surrender without any bloodshed, or any further bloodshed. We want everyone to get out of this alive, and I'd prefer we leave this with some dignity. Nothing stopping us from both leaving, or just wiping out these... yeah, you see them. We likely outnumber you, and there's no shame in a ceasefire."
A quarter of the SEC units begin firing into the fog in an attempt to shoot down whichever of the creatures that stalk through it, successfully striking as many of them as they could hit in the darkness. While they're doing this, the rookie walks over to the Kreznik, raising both of his hands and pulling down the lip of his mask, again.
"Hi, uh, oh, What? Well, uh, we just obtained this-" He winces as a round flies from a guy standing next to him, and steps closer to the barrier to get away from it. "This is an important person, and we're trying to get them, uh, out of here so we can have them somewhere safe. The box is a, ah, precaution."
The Kreznik, after hearing the rookie's explanation finally moved, leaning in closer to him, practically hovering over him as the obscured face was only centimeters from his own, and, taking a hand lifted the mask slightly, just enough to reveal grayed skin and chapped lips, though, strangely, quite human. A hissing exhale of steamy breath, then inhales again, readying to finally speak, it seemed.
"Tai-nt-ed..." a strangled hissing whisper escaping tortured lips, a statement, not a question.
"This is the 2nd Marine Squad, Imperial Aschen Navy, it is you who are outnumbered and outgunned, challenge us at your own peril. Disengage if you wish to live." The message was stern, and heavily accented with a strange lilting accent. While the EM Chaff began to dissipate, the men had already moved, bobbing and weaving through the mysterious shapes in the forest.
"Switch to Antimana, give it a try, see if we can disperse these things while our enemy considers their options." The Marine said quietly as he unfastened a chrome sphere from his load bearing vest, and tossed it into the fog as hard as he could. Following a three second delay, a powerful disruptive antimana pulse fired outwards in all directions, in hopes it would disperse the creatures that were closing in on them.
There's a general nodding from around the interior of the barrier, a clock ticking down on the rod stuck in the ground.
Eight minutes.
The Unit Leader, 10-Charlie, does a quick mental assessment of the situation.
They've run through around 28 magazines, each 20 rounds. They don't know if they've hit anything beyond the visual confirmation of targets dropping. There's a zombie or something at the back of the protective barrier breathing down the back of their necks, and they don't want to shoot that thing for obvious reasons. The airstrike that was called in by the Imps wasn't coming, he figures, as TOC would have called it in already. Well, unless they killed comms, but that meant they couldn't talk to them in the first place. There were... things... in the fog, and they seemed to go down with a shot or two. The objective was safe, so if they could keep it that way, then they could get out of here. The Imps seemed to have thrown a grenade, by the smell it was probably something anti-maj, so maybe that would help.
"Fuck," he whispers, running his hand over the top of his helmet.
"Alright, team. Kill the shield and set it to widening, high freak. Rifles loaded, we're getting the fuck out of here."
He calls the rookie over to work the shield, holding a hand up to signal the timing, as the rest of the Death Unit load their C-CARS with fresh magazines.
"SEC to 2nd Marine Squad, sounds good. We'll be disengaging shortly, have fun with this. Security and Exchange Company FOT-10 out."
He gives the signal, everyone withdrawing to close in on the barrier rod, forming a tight circle around it, one of them taking the time to activate the containment cube. The force shield slowly withdraws, the light making it up dimming as it does so, until it's a close circle around the soldiers. Then, unexpectedly, it brightens tenfold and widens drastically, forcefully shoving even the fog backwards as it continues to widen, likely the Kreznik as well. "Alright, MOVE, MOVE, MOVE," shouts the UL, and the soldiers uproot the stake and begin to sprint with it across the woods in an attempt to make a path to the outer edge of the fog. The units, shooting and moving, do their best to clear out the figures in the fog before they hit the barrier, the timer rapidly ticking down as they sprint towards the clearing across the treeline.
Extending her arm, she nonchalantly seized the hilt of the blade, dragging it along as she followed in the wake of the shielded target. The question loomed in her mind: What purpose did these mortals have with a tainted being? Did they not understand the risk or did they just not care?
Meanwhile, the fog, which had been an extension of her essence, moved in tandem with her. The manifestations within it met their demise easily against the firepower of the Aschen marines, but their purpose, along with the distorting fog, was only to delay their approach anyways. Sooner than later that distance was shortening, however.
- 69 posts here • Page 3 of 3 • 1, 2, 3