Locusts Chapter One: Hot sun, white sands, and large scary bugs.
 

The summer sun beat down the soldiers protecting Evacuation Point North America 875, formerly known as Utah State Park Antelope Island. EvPNA875 was build there for two reasons: Firstly, the mountain on the island gave the military an excellent view of the countryside. The second reason was that the lake bed, drying after a few years of vicious drought, formed a flat, seven mile long kill zone.

The take off of another transport went unnoticed by the members of the Colonial Militia who were dug in on the island. Whether it was in a trench or behind a rail-cannon, not one of the few hundred CM soldiers were in the open. With the coming of a swarm, to be unarmored and in plan site was near suicide. As such, the Militiamen had nothing to do but to sweat under the hot desert sun, waiting.

On the other side of the island, thousands of refugees waited to be put on transports. The Wasatch Front was one of the last major population centers in North America to be overrun, due to it’s mountainous location, and because as far as people go, 2 million isn’t all that many, so it was low on the Locusts’ “To-Do” list.

However, even those factors had run out.

It was the same around the world as the final exodus of Earth was taking place. Everyone who was willing and able was either outbound for the colonies, standing in line to get on a transport, or stood in the ranks of the United System League’s military. Thousands of Evacuation Points existed in the world, so what made EvPNA875 so special?

EvPNA875 was special because it had the singular distinction of being protected by the 1st Joint Strike Force, the Martian Remnant, the most experienced bug fighters in the whole of the USL.

The fact that they had been deployed to a evac point was telling in of itself. It meant that someone high up thought that EvPNA875 was going to be hit hard enough to require the best to be out there to hold it.

And that person was right.

As the thunder of the departing transport lessening, a new roar took it’s place. Artillery fired. The ground shook as orbital missiles broke through the atmosphere, denoting hundreds of feet above the ground, causing shrapnel to rain upon hundreds of square feet of ground.

From the peak of the mountains, more than 2,000 feet above the lakebed, stood General James Kirkham. He watched the chaos in a distracted way, tracking various sources of information as it was fed into his command suit. A grid containing everything from troop positions to target areas of incoming orbital bombardments to where the artillery was shooting filled his heads up display. However, for the most part, his focus was one the growing red portion of his display. The crawling red blob indicated where the swarm was.

The fire from the heavens changed from missiles into streams of light…the only sign of a passing hyper velocity missile. Any trooper worth his salt knew that the change from the area denial fragmentation roads to the more accurate HVMs knew that it meant that the Locusts were getting near friendlies.

Or, as was more often the case than not, them.

“All units, prepare for engagement.” The General said over the general band. With a flick of his fingers, he changed frequencies. “Evac Control, how long do you have to buy you?”

”The last few transports are being loaded up now, General. We should be ready to leave 30 minutes, tops.”

From the ruins of houses and fields, the first edge of the Locusts swarm came into view, their dark exoskeletons easily picked out against the salty sands of the lakebed. They were in view for only a few seconds before an artillery shell wiped them away…but they were quickly replaced.

“Hurry.” The General said.
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For five long miles the Locusts dashed across the dry lakebed. For five long miles artillery from Armored Cav units and HVMs from Fleet ships in orbit killed them in their dozens, even hundreds.

But still they came.

The General was down near the trenches now. The 1st JSF’s complement of Mobile Infantry troopers were dug in, forming the dead center of the defensive lines. The General watched as the bugs ran towards them, seemingly oblivious to the dozens of their brethren dying around them. On his screen, the large red mass was slowly moving towards a thin green line: the maximum effective firing distance for the majority of his troops.

The swarm was mostly made up of warriors and soldiers at this point, the heavier Locusts strains mercilessly targeted by artillery and orbital strikes. Still, the odd Crawler still crawled along with the horde of smaller bugs. From behind the tree line, the plasma trails of missile-strains rose, only to be engaged by the Aegis anti-missile systems scattered across the mountain.

Tracer rounds from autocannons and rail guns screamed over the trooper’s heads, the Colonial Militia’s heavy weapons already having range. Metal and explosives hurled at supersonic speeds crashed into the living wall of the swarm with spectacular effect, culling warriors and soldiers by the handful.

But still they came.

Such was war against the Locusts. For every one dead, a hundred more take its place.

“Mobile Infantry, fire on my mark!” The General ordered. The handful of MI snipers were already at work, focusing on disabling the heavier strains.

Finally, the line was crossed.

“All units, open fire!”

((OOC: Take it from here. Warriors are close-range bugs, much like zerglings. Soldiers are basically warriors with an attached plasma weapon. Alone they can’t hit a thing, so they rely heavily on massed fire…which they usually have. Crawlers are large, heavily armored beetle like things, the Locusts equivalent of a tank. It takes a heavy weapon to crack them open. Feel free to make up strains as you wish. If I don’t like it, I’ll ask you to take it out.))

Reapers sighting scanned the incoming swarm, three strains were most prevalent however none of them were Strykkers target.
Other snipers were targeting crawlers, Hitting weak spots in the armor yet Strykkers cloak concealed him, Reaper never spoke in the language of death.

Still scanning the battle field the sights lit up there was what Strykker was looking for, In the midst of one group of warriors a bug slightly bigger than the rest, the tell tale synoptic node on it back of it's head, A hive node one of many on the battle field.
Breathing out, The armored figure compressed the trigger, Gas vents kicked in along with sound suppressors a whisper of wind was the only sound.

Over 1km away the nodes head vanished green ichor drenched anything in the area, The group around the bugs vacinity became confused some ran onwards, Some turned and fled, Others stoped dead still, Not knowing what to do.

That would only slow them for a few seconds but every second counted.
Reapers scope was already scaning the swarm again looking for another target.

“All units, open fire!”

The Generals command echoed thru Reapers comm systems, All hell broke loose, Each MI opend fire, Had Strykker been lined with everyone else the sound would be defining, How ever his position was a little different to the rest, Alone... a sniper was always Alone.
Shaking the thought from his head he started to line up the next target.

Angel looked through his scope from his vantage point slightly separate from the line. His cloaking device worked perfectly, his comm system was fine, and a panel showed him the general and the line of fellow MI's ready to shoot. The scope was one of the newest ones, with a specialized camera on one end, and a screen on the other. He saw through this screen a small dot slightly off-center, a crosshair, and a large swarm of bugs--mostly warriors and soldiers, though a few crawlers and nodes ran with the swarm. He knew that the dot was the expected target after calculating wind speed and direction, and the crosshair was the possible target area should wind change within regular parameters. The bugs were coming.

Come on, come on...

His right index finger slipped around the trigger, and his left hand cradled the barrel end of his bugsnipe. He was ready to go.

"Mobile Infantry, fire on my mark." Came the general's voice over the radio. It had a little static, which he decided to mark up to the large amounts of HVMs thrown about. Somehow, some ancestral part of him found it fitting as he aimed the dot at a crawler's leg joint. He pushed a small switch on the gun's grip with his thumb to set the shot to maximum strength. He didn't want to miss.

"All units, open fire!"

Angel squeezed the trigger. Over his scope he saw the crawler's leg break off, causing the crawler to fall over, crushing a few bugs beneath it and creating an obstacle for the rest. It didn't matter, though; soon it was overrun by the soldier bugs, who continued their tireless charge. He pushed a button, causing a chamber to open to expel the spent cartridge, and let it go. Amazing how rifles had fundamentally the same reload system since the dawn of man when they were first made.

After he let go, he fired again, this time at a node. It's head splattered the temporarily confused bugs before they fell under the influence of another node. Reload. Point. Shoot. Reload. Point. Shoot. And the bugs just kept on coming.

"Raider One, light up plasma barrages in our vicinity. Rearguard, suppress the barrages. The rest of you, standard suppression barrage directed at Grids D4 through D10." Sergeant First Class Felix Omara spoke through the comm. Even though the audio was relayed directly beside the squad's ears respectively, it was a little fuzzy over the noise of the majority of the Remnant unloading on the swarm.

Specialist Burnelli nodded, a pointless gesture, since he didn't have a line of sight with anyone in his squad. He was already stealthed, laying prone on the ground with his HVvixen launcher prepared to fire once he was able to activate them. "Roger, sir." He input several commands via his virtual HUD and the EOLDS Hawkeye sensors activated. Half of his vision turned orange as the targetting system quickly outlined every enemy target within its range. Several filters and two commands later, and only the Locust bio-missiles were lighting up to the whole Raider squadron. Corporal Sevenice fired his hyper-rifle somewhere to his rear, taking out one of the bio-missile targets that had been streaming towards the MI line. Burnelli smiled grimly. "Nice shot, Raider Three."

"All right, all right, cut the chatter, let's concentrate on the mission and get out of this alive." Omara rang in. Burnelli really didn't have much to do until things got uglier, or he received further orders. He watched as bio-missiles streaked into the range of the Hawkeye, fired from somewhere within the swarm, and then his HUD friendly panel reported Raider Two and Three firing with their hyper-rifles.

Raider Squad was composed of nine members, all using variants of the EOLDS model Burnelli was wearing. Sergeant First Class Omara was Raider Zero, the CO and official dickhead of the squad. Burnelli was acting sensor operator because of his Hawkeye system, and depending on the circumstances he reverted back to "Blow The Shit Out Of Locusts" duty. Corporals Sevenice and Darrel were rearguard, wearing ultralight runner suits and armed with long-barreled hyper-rifles. They were Raiders Two and Three.

Private First Class Mitchell, Corporals Ellyn and Smith, Specialist Werick, and Sergeant Zulyka made up the bulk and usually the vanguard of the squad. Mitchell, Ellyn, and Smith were all in standard light suits with gauss rifles and plasma grenade launchers. Specialist Werick was the artillery "expert" in the squad. He was the only man in Raider Squad with a heavy suit. And with good reason, given enough time he could wipe out thousands of Locusts with his armaments. Built into the thick spine of his EOHSS Mk III were two plasma cannons. Each volley packed the punch of one of Burnelli's HVvixen missiles, but the ballistic slugs were more difficult to intercept. The downside was the kickback, the reload, and of course, the fact that the slugs were ballistic. Two heavy gauss rifles were built into the arms, both with built-in plasma grenade launchers. On each shoulder he sported a high-powered X-ray laser cannon.

Burnelli shrugged to himself. "At least I have nukes." He clicked on Werick's icon within his HUD and the Hawkeye instantly highlighted him in the field, two o'clock, thirty-four meters from his position.

"This is Raider Seven, beginning standard suppression barrage." Raider Three took down a bio-missile that had come within two hundred meters of the Remnant lines. Werick dug into the ground and fired both plasma cannons. The air around his suit was all fire for a moment as the shells cleared the muzzle and disappeared into the air on their trajectory. Eight seconds later the shells hit the very front of the advancing Locust hoard. The explosion was big enough to distinguish itself from the hundreds of kilos of submunitions. White-hot plasma burst out from the two impact points and engulfed the Warriors and Soldiers in the thirty-meter wide blast radii. Hawkeye estimated one hundred plus kills. Werick opened up with his heavy gauss rifles and the rest of the Raider vanguard did the same. Hundreds of supersonic projectiles filled the air and slammed into the unfortunate Locusts running between Grids D4 to D10. At this range the gauss rifles were at the lower end of their effectiveness, with a thirty percent penetration rate.

Burnelli started crawling forward while in stealth mode, a remarkably easy maneuver given his suit's amplified strength. Hawkeye warned the squad that the swarm was nearing the one mile mark. And still it seemed like an endless field. Burnelli figured it would be another three or four minutes at most before the shit hit the fan and people really started dying.

"Raiders Two and Three, remain on bio-missile suppression duty. Raider One, get targetting the Node bugs. Everyone else, take up Burnelli's feed and suppress those targets. They are past the one mile mark people, we need to slow them down and buy more time." Omara rang in, and they all began to reposition. The whole of Raider squad moved into a rough line spanning grids D4 to D10, nearly one man to a grid. "Werick, fire off a full volley and start your retreat, you'll need the headstart. Fire as you move back, and for God's sake watch out for friendlies."

"Sir yes sir!" Werick's bulky suit started its slow jog behind the Remnant line. Burnelli looked to his peripherals and saw other heavies being ordered to do the same. The next stage of the battle was about to begin.

William Kerr was only half watching the unfolding carnage to his front. He'd seen so many bug advances that he'd started losing interest. What he was more interested in was the disposition of his platoon. After a few moments of silence, he clicked his comm channel over to the leader of the first section of the platoon. "Sergeant, I need you to tighten your ranks. You're going to leak like a sieve if the bugs hit you." Without waiting for acknowledgment (these were MI dammit!) he clicked over to the section leader of the second section. "Sergeant, I need you to redeploy your heavy-weapons team. They need a better field of fire if they're to slow the advance." He didn't use the word stop. He'd long since ceased to believe in such a word when it came to bugs. They didn't stop. They paused, rested, waited, delayed, stalled, milled, and occasionally retreated, but they never stopped.

Kerr clicked off his comm and watched the telemetry feeds from his platoon. Some of the snipers had added their own noise to the rattling cacophany which had been shaking the ground he'd been standing on for the past few minutes. Satisfied with the disposition of his sections, and confident in the platoons on both sides of his own, (he served with the best company in the best division in the whole MI!) he clicked his comm over to the command frequency. "Captain, Kerr. We're ready."

"Hold steady lieutenant. They'll be here soon enough," the captain's voice was measured and steady, and Kerr could only imagine what was running through his mind at the moment. Organizing and caring for a platoon of men was hard enough. A company must be a nightmare.

"Any recommendations sir?" Kerr asked.

"Looks like you redeployed your heavy weapons. Watch your left flank though. There's some rough terrain providing for a twenty-foot blindspot on our front."

"I see it sir. I'll have the left-most flankers keep a good two eyes out. Can we spare any engineers to lay down some claymores?"

"Too busy," was the terse reply. The captain didn't have to say anymore. They'd be helping with the evacuation. Kerr could respect that.

"We'll keep an eye on it." he promised again, then added "Kerr out." and clicked off his comm. Now it was time to wait, and check his own gear. He'd checked it twice before starting, and had let his sergeant run over his systems, but there was always time for one more check.

"Fire on my mark!" The general's voice meant that it was time to get down to business.

Running over his suit's internal diagnostics, he noted solid greens. Reaching over his shoulders with both hands, he pulled down the retractable flamethrowers. Releasing his grip, he noted they snapped back into their resting position. The same was true of the grenade launcher, and his automatic rifle was never far from his hand, it being possibly the only part of the suit which wasn't connected somehow to his back. It rested on the chest of his suit, held on by a series of magnetic clamps, and was capable of being pulled off and put into action in the blink of an eye. He'd done it so many times it was reflex now (They didn't put just any apes in these suits! They put in apes who would FIGHT!).

"All units, open fire!"

The general's order caused the ground's shaking to change slightly in pitch and character. The bugs were closer now. Not quite close enough for the lieutenant, but close enough for his front line. He frowned, then clicked his comm over. "Corporal, focus three section's fire. Pick your targets and stick with them." His comm clicked off, and the lieutenant pulled his gauss rifle off his chest. Pulling it to his shoulder, he brought up his targeting sight. Several of the bugs were starting to fire back. Not with any particular accuracy, but they would eventually be guaranteed casualties by the sheer volume of fire.

Kerr didn't even twitch as a missile bug broke through the air defenses and plowed into a Colonial Militia position. Filtering out the screams for medics, he took aim at a soldier bug who was getting uncomfortably accurate with his fire. Letting go a three round burst, Kerr watched the bug stagger backwards, green ichor running down its forward carapace from three fairly angry looking holes. After a moment, it shrugged and resumed its advance "Missed," he grunted as he shifted his aim a hair lower and repeated the exercise. This time one of his rounds punched through the bug's 'brain' (really more a motor-control station and transmitter). The bug crashed forward, several plasma bursts firing wildly into its own ranks as its damaged controls tried to carry out their orders. "Better."

The bugs were closer now. Kerr frowned as he looked at the rough terrain which separated his platoon's anchors from the next platoon's anchors. "First section, I want you to switch your heavy-weapons teams to cover the empty space on our left flank."

The young sergeant's voice came over. "Sir? That'll double our workload on the front."

"I'll have second and third sections switch off their heavy weapons to cover your avenues of advance when possible. For the moment, you're stuck with extra duty. I'd rather not have soldiers rolling us up on our left flank."

"Yes sir!" the sergeant switched his comm off, and started barking orders to his troopers. The lieutenant smiled. The sergeant was a good kid, and would probably make it to OCS...if he lived long enough.

Switching his attention back to the battle, the lieutenant kicked in his 'jets and made a long low jump down towards the front. Ducking behind some well-arranged cover, he started picking targets and taking them down, occasionally ordering concentrations of fire on particularly dangerous looking groups. For the most part, he tried not to focus too much on the red chronometer which clicked ever so slowly down in the corner of his eye.

The General had his grenade launcher leveled, firing at the incoming swarm.

The fact that they were within grenade launcher range was a bad sign in and of itself.

“Colonial Militia, pull back to position 5!” The General ordered. The soldiers would were clad only in body armor were getting the worst of the fight. Shots that would be nothing more than a glancing blow to a fully outfitted MI trooper were often killing or maiming blows to the Militiamen. Exposed on the front line as they were, they were being cut to shreds. As the order filtered through their lines, the troops reaction was varied. Some just broke and ran for it, while others performed a fighting retreat, while even more tried to pull their injured from the trenches. With a flick of his hand, he switched over to the MI only channel. “Troopers, we’re the only ones on the line for the time being. CM is heading to the fall back point, which is where we are going as soon as they’re dug in. Keep you eyes on the flanks, we’re exposed now. The roaches will hit minefield any second-“ as if on cue, the front wave of bugs exploded in flames, “-but that won’t hold them long.”

Another wave of explosions racked the bug lines. Almost as one, the bug line slowed. From it’s reaches, warrior strains field out of the main body of Locusts and onto the minefield. Kirkham scowled. Freakin’ bugs are getting smarter. Using warriors to sweep the minefields so that the stronger strains can get through…

A bleep on his command overlay caused the General to check his readings. Oh, as if we really needed that at the moment. He switched over to the overall command frequency.

“Heads up, troopers! Screamers and Shriekers inbound!”

The sky darkened as the mass of Locust fliers cleared the horizon. Screamers were the older strain, not capable of super sonic speeds, and only able to launch a handful of missile-strains from the pods on their flanks. Shriekers were an entirely different story, the bug version of a high performance jet fighter. Able to fly at supersonic speeds, double the amount of missile-strains as the older Screamers, and a plasma ejector. The Shrieker strains only started showing up three years ago, but they began to challenge the USL for air superiority ever since.

SAMs flew from their positions on the mountain, streaking towards the still distant mass of fliers. The Armored Cav artillery began to move off the mountain, no longer safe with the fliers around, and no longer effective with the Locust closing in fast. A handful of Fleet fighters rose to challenge the fliers, but not enough to change the outcome.

Things were about to get a lot messier.

Reapers motion sensors went off like a firecracker, Which didn't make sence the bugs were still a distance off.

“Heads up, troopers! Screamers and Shriekers inbound!” The Generals voice crackled over the comms.

"That explains it then" thought Strykker, The airborne bugs wern't his concern at the moment however, The ground based troops of the enemy had just hit the first mine field, It slowed them but not for a heck of alot of time.

The bunching of the bugs made it harder to find any nodes, Instead the crawlers became His new targets, His shots striking their weak spots thining they a bit.

"Thining them" Strykker smerked it was like taking a glass of water from the ocean, there was always more coming.

Kerr clicked his comm to a general frequency almost before the general had finished talking. "Platoon! They're channel building! Focus fire on the advancing soldiers in your area of responsibility, and keep 'em bottled up as long as possible!" then he clicked to heavy-weapons specialists. "I want you boys to discourage the bugs from getting adventurous anywhere else on our front. Pick your targets and fire at will."

As he finished speaking, he shifted his own fire to a soldier which was charging up one of the channels, scuttling over the bugs who had gone before. Letting rip a two-second burst from his rifle, Kerr was pleased to see the bug collapse in the lane of advance. Across his platoon's front, the other channels were also being filled with Locust dead. It didn't stop them, of course. Nothing ever really did. It did make all attempts to advance more costly though.

Checking his tactical display, Kerr frowned. The bugs were making deep inroads on the minefield, and were expanding the channels. At this rate, they would have at least five clear channels open in the next three minutes. From there, it would be a matter of expending more soldiers to widen those channels. After that, it was anybody's guess how they'd advance.

A new blip showed up on his tactical display, and disappeared a moment later. Frowning, Kerr saw another blip, and then another. Soon dozens of blips were appearing and disappearing. Then the sound reached him and Kerr knew: fliers.

Kerr clicked over to the command frequency. "Captain, fliers inbound."

"They're all over the place lieutenant," the comm fuzzed briefly, then cleared. "Dammit where the hell are my heavies?! We need air interdiction! What do you need lieutenant?"

"Anti-air sir. Our heavy-weapons weren't exactly designed to take out fliers."

"You'll know when we have active interdiction up and - " the comm fuzzed again, and this time Kerr could clearly hear from his rear the roar of missiles leaving their launch tubes. "Running! Hit 'em again! Hit 'em with everything you've got!"

Kerr smiled and clicked off his comm. The captain didn't usually get excited. Fliers were always a cause for worry though. Kerr pressed himself tighter against cover as a shrieker let a missile bug go. The crater couldn't have been more that twenty feet to his left. His platoon's signals were unchanged though.

"Section leaders, spread your men out," Kerr didn't need to explain. If you bunched MI up, they made an awfully tempting target, and in this war 1 dead MI for every ten thousand dead bugs was a net loss for the good guys.

Another missile strain howled overhead, only to be met mid-air by an interceptor missile. Second section's heavy-weapons team had switched to anti-air. The rockets weren't always effective, but they were better than nothing.

Two hundred feet to his left, Kerr watched a missile bug swarm past the bright tracers of the MI and retreating colonial militia and smash directly into a heavy-weapons bunker. The plasma ball set off the ammunition, adding to the spectacular devastation. The screams of panicked CMs mixed with the calm assessment of the MIs platoon and section leaders. They'd lost four. Three had bought farms, and one was fast on his way to his own real estate deal.

Kerr's attention snapped back to his own platoon as one of his soldier's beacons dropped off. The concussion of a missile explosion rolled across him, and he swore. "First section, sound off."

Kerr listened. One of his troopers didn't report in. "Sergeant, what is McKay's status?"

"Looks like he decided to take up farming sir," came the reply. Kerr swore. "Alright. Keep your heads down, but keep the pressure on the bugs!"

"Captain, those fliers are getting to be a real nuisance," Kerr switched channels. "I've lost one, and the Kodiaks on my left just took four." Kerr looked up and saw a wounded screamer driving for the ground behind his position. A missile was streaking to intercept it, so he turned his attention to the captain's reply.

" - the CM hit the second line, they'll be able to give the fliers something to worry about. I just need you to hold your little piece of the war."

"Roge-" Kerr found himself in the air before he heard the explosion. The interceptor had missed, and when the screamer had hit the ground a few hundred feet behind him, the remaining missiles in its pods had gone off. The blast nearly tumbled the armour suit's gyroscopic stabilizers, but Kerr cut in his 'jets and recovered, landing closer to the bugs than he would have liked at this stage of the battle.

"Lieutenant, report!" the captain's voice maintained its steady note, but Kerr thought he detected a hint of worry.

"Screamer crashlanded behind me sir. Took out part of the mountainside and sent me for a short jump," Kerr was already running back to his former position - or what was left of it. The explosion had left a crater with guttering fires burning around the edges. His neat cover had been ruined by tumbling rocks and debris. As he reached his position, he checked his ammunition counter. In all this time, he hadn't stopped firing. It wasn't a smart thing to do when fighting bugs. As he noted the reading, his platoon sergeant cut in.

"Sir, first section is reporting that the bugs in their area are dangerously close to clearing a channel through the minefield. They'd like to divert a heavy-weapons team from second or third section to provide additional support."

"Tell them it's not possible right now," Kerr checked the glowing red line which marked the edge of the minefield on his HUD. At that moment, the captain cut in on the conversation.

"Lieutenant, we have a couple of damaged heavies back here which might be able to help. Have your section leader read off the coordinates, and we'll see what we can manage from this end."

"Aye sir," the lieutenant clicked his comm. "Corporal, where are they cutting the channel?"

Having received the coordinates, he forwarded them to an unfamiliar name and rank. Still, he was more than happy to watch mortar shells come crashing down amongst the scuttling soldiers. First section opened fire with renewed vigour and shifted their line without orders to compensate for the earlier loss of one of their troopers. "Thanks captain," Kerr shut off his comm, and tried to ignore the numbers rolling by at the bottom of his HUD.

"Rearguard, forget the missiles, you're on Shrieker Ignition duty." Omara said on the squad comm.

Burnelli hadn't moved much yet. He changed position every twenty seconds to keep himself busy, but his job at the moment consisted of letting his Hawkeye to all the work. As the Screamers and Shriekers caused more damage, he might see some action.

The vanguard of Raider Squad were all firing their gauss rifles nonstop, and as the primary magazines reloaded they were firing their plasma grenades. All of them were aiming at the Warriors as they tried to sacrifice themselves to clear mines. They were doing a good job, and that would pay off with plenty of kills in the bottom line.

Internal alarms blared as a bio-missile came within fifty meters of Burnelli's suit. It had been launched from a Screamer, and crashed near Raider Five. Immediately, Corporal Ellyn rang in. "Grazed, I'm fine." Burnelli watched as the Screamer flew further into protected zones. An interceptor missile zoomed out from an emplacement on the mountain and struck the bug in the midsection. It's plasma stores ignited, and both the bug and missile were completely vaporized in a white flash. Similar white flashes were visible every few seconds as Screamers were destroyed. Shriekers were a little less frequent, due to their incredible speed and maneuverability even compared to modern interceptor missiles.

Burnelli noted a group of Screamers coming up on their flank. "Raider Two, transmitting prime targetting information. Aim for the wing."

"Roger." Raider Two said. Burnelli turned to look at Corporal Sevenice as he fired his hyper-rifle. The weapon kicked back hard and with negligible delay the left wing of a Screamer blew off. The Locust started into an uncontrolled counterclockwise spin, veering off from the rest of the flock, headed straight for the Locust ground swarm. Robert couldn't help but smile a little as the crashing Screamer slammed into the writhing swarm, ignited its plasma stores, and obliterated dozens of its kin. At the same time, two of the Screamers in the group were destroyed by interceptors.

The remaining six in the group dove on an attack run. They topped out at nearly seven hundred miles per hour, all of them spitting off a bio-missile. Four of the missiles missed entirely, while the other two only caused minor splash damage. They got off lucky that time, but there would be many more attack runs to endure before evac.

Burnelli turned his attention back to the ground. Many of the Warriors had been killed before they managed to sacrifice themselves, and the corpses were starting to pile high. There was increasing optimistic chatter over the general comm as some of the Soldier strains were forced out onto the minefield, sacrificing for the greater swarm. The vanguard shot more Warriors where they were to be found, but most had been chewed up by the massive initial barrages. The Locust, they always put the weak ones up front to absorb our bullets. And what do we do? We waste the bullets like good little meatsacks.

A Shrieker exploded several thousand feet overhead, but the flash was still blinding. The plasma stores within totalled to a few hundred kilograms of conventional high explosives, easily. Burnelli accessed the general tactical display, and watched as the massive blob of red slowly encroached closer to the much smaller line of green. The red monster had grown tentacles for the moment, signifying Locusts that had found channels in the minefield and were doing their best to exploit it. To his grim delight, one of the channels would intersect with Raider Squad in the next few minutes.

Specialist Burnelli deactivated stealth mode and activated his HVvixen launcher. The missile rack on the back of the his whirred and whizzed mechanically, until the weapon diagnostics icon went from inactive blue to active green status. He eyed his nuke icon and thought grim thoughts.

Time is always hard to judge on a battlefield. Not that there is any real difference in the rate time flows, but the immersion in the moment tends to cause soldiers to experience a kind of odd tunnel-vision. Lieutenant Kerr had been well-trained in OCS, but even officers tended to experience this tunnel vision. As he continued firing, cursing as the soldiers managed to detonate another series of mines, he heard the captain's voice crackling over the comm.

"All units, shift right one-four-five feet and pull back one-five-oh feet," the captain paused. "We need to start circling the wagons. The bugs are starting to spread out."

Overhead, Kerr watched a group of UNS fighters dive through a swarm of Shriekers. Clouds of expanding gas marked the former position of the bugs, but Kerr could see that whatever it was that the fighters had been escorting had taken a pounding at some point on its way down from orbit.

"Captain, what the hell is that coming in?" Kerr was puzzled. It looked like an MI transport, but they weren't due for a while yet. What the hell were they carrying that merited them coming down in the middle of a warzone?

"I just bounced that up to command. I have no idea what they're carrying. Last I heard from the major, he was checking with the colonel."

Kerr swore. The last thing they needed were downed anybody! "They're coming in pretty hard sir."

"You have your orders soldier. I expect you to follow them," Kerr nodded. Ignoring orders was a one way ticket to a battlefield execution by his own platoon sergeant. The rate and angle of descent, though, seemed to show that the transport would come down about four miles from Kerr's new position. That wasn't much for an MI trooper in a fully functional suit, but he doubted there were MI in that transport. Worse, their eventual crash zone was right along the bug's new axis of advance. It wouldn't take the critters long to overrun the transport.

Firing as they moved, the entire line of defenders shifted with the bugs. If anyone had had a bird's eye view, it would have looked like a fluid kind of dance. Of course, the partners traded kinetic slugs and plasma, and any slip-ups in movement were usually fatal, but there was a kind of terrible grace to the fighting. The firing had intensified as the MI moved, trying to keep the bugs off balance.

Finally, after hitting their new positions, the volume of fire returned to its former rate. The MI dug back in. Then, he heard a cry from one of his forward line. "There's another transport coming in! She's afire!"

Kerr swore as he watched an interceptor missile streak past the burning transport, slamming into a pursuing screamer. Then, a third transport was in view, lumbering down after the two damaged craft. As it began to flare its nose upwards to prepare for landing, the first of the transports hit, skidding sideways and snapping its landing gear as the pilots fought for control. The entire craft rolled once and came up at a sharp angle. Smoke billowed from the engines and Kerr could just make out men piling from the burning craft. The larger of the three transports was settling in close by, and its engines were only idling. The third transport crashed in a manner even less elegant, and it was only thanks to the tough engineering which had gone into it that the cargo and crew compartments survived mostly intact. The rest of the craft lay scattered over a hundred foot area, and a long furrow marked the craft's trail once it had touched down. The smoking remnants were also within reach of the third transport, whose landing bays were opening now.

"Oh no." Kerr watched as Colonial Militia rushed from the cargo bay. They were sheltered for the moment by the bulk of the craft, but it was only a matter of time before they were exposed to the Locusts. When that happened, it would be a bloodbath. Still, he had to salute their insane courage, running towards crashed transports to recover injured men and undamaged materials.

"Lieutenant," the captain's voice crackled over the comm, and he sounded strained. "You're seeing what I'm seeing?"

"Yessir," Kerr waited.

"They're going to get chewed up out there, and we're going to lose all three transports," the captain mused. Kerr didn't need to add what they were both thinking: unless we do something. The comm went silent, and then the captain came back on. "The colonel agrees. Lieutenant, how does your platoon feel about a rescue mission?"

"Who'll cover our position?" Kerr asked. He didn't like leaving a hole in the circling wagons.

"Hold your first section and heavy-weapons teams back, and take your second and third sections. They'll be able to form a thin line along the front."

"Orders?"

"Keep the CMs alive, help them move the gear and men, and then get the hell back to the mountain."

"We could use a little help out there sir. It is a kill zone," Kerr pointed out.

"I think we have the unit just right for the job," Kerr couldn't see it, but he could hear the captain's grin. "Yes sir. Give my men one minute."

"You have thirty seconds," the captain replied, then clicked off the comm.

Kerr smiled and flipped channels. "Listen up troopers! We're going for a little run!"