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BLUE SUN ROOM FAN FICTION - ADVENTURE
When the bug attack goes South for Mal and the 57th, everything goes to Hell. Fast.
CATEGORY: FICTION TIMES READ: 745 RATING: 9 SERIES: FIREFLY
It was chaos incarnate as the defenders reached the wall. Even though it only took a few seconds to get from the barracks to the barricade, the bugs were already there, a seething, shreiking horde of black and yellow and deathly white, clashing against the churned up dirt of the planet Persephone. But, above all the noise, above the scream of the rockets, the explosions from the exploding mines, the horrible sound of the plasma streaking overhead, the crackle of rifle fire, the steady chirp of the machine gun nests in the towers above, the hiss of acid- Above all this the screaming.
The screech of bugs as they died, the screams of humans as they fell. That was what would give Tracey nightmares for the rest of his life, however short it may prove to be. Men literally melted as they were hit by the Spitters, six foot high monstrosities that scuttled about on six legs. Troopers had long learned that if you hit one just right in the thorax, it would go up like a gernade. Unfortunately, the Bugs knew this, too.
Amidst the onrush of tiger and leopard warriors, the close combat grunt of the Bug army, the Spitters hid themselves in the stripes and spots and black, until they could reach the wall. There, they impaled themselves on the wire that was the 57th's second line of defense. The all purpose steel, supposed to entangle any bug that got through the now silent mine field, melted faster than a snowball in Hell. They poured through.
Make no mistake that there was no resistance. Not by far; Tracey and the sentry gunners checked the onslaught in any way they could, lobbing the odd gernade amonst the seething masses to cause destrusction on par with their rapidly dwindling supply of ammo. Still, they came on, just from that one side through the pass, the only way in or out from the front. Soldiers lined up on the last line of defense, the Wall. It was a hollow shell filled with dirt, making any base a viable defensive posistion. Filled with dirt, they could witstand the attacks of the Spitters fairly well, and the towers were dispersed along it at intervals of twenty feet.
One by one by one, those same towers that would be their saviors fell deathly quiet, their gunners either grabbing rifles to join the fight or dying amongst the hordes spikes and spines and giant, crushing, lopsided beaks that could rip men in half. Tracey was lucky enough to be in the former group. He found himself fighting alongside Zoe. "This is bad, huh, Sarge?"
"Just keep shooting!" Her retort was almost lost among the cacaphony. Then, Tracey's heart nearly stopped, as the words he was dreading sounded, close and personal.
"PERIMITER BREACH!!!! The Bugs are comin' in!"
Mal shouted over the din, "FALL BACK!!! To the square!" Tracey followed the order post haste, not even bothering to use the ramps set in place for easy access. The bugs didn't even need the breach; they could use the dead bodies piled along the wall as a ramp anyways. He fired sporaticaly at a warrior which tried to skewer him, intent only on reaching his squad in the parade ground square.
More than once, Mal wished that they still had mortars. 'Course, their true purpose couldn't be filled whatwith the Bugs knowing no fear an' all, but he sure as hell woulda liked to use 'em to inflict a few dozen deaths over the wall.
When the bugs first came, they swept past the defenders so quick on account of two reasons. One, they weren't expecting it. Two, normal, conventional tactics wouldn't work on them. Warfare amongst humans meant not so much killing as destroying the figting spirit of your enemy. Make 'em run, and you win. Bugs, though... they couldn't run unless some hive mind told 'em to. The just biologicaly couldn't give up. No spirit to break, no Ma and Pa civilian to pressure the Gov't when their baby bug got a few limbs blown off.
Lota folk couldn't take that. Lots a suicides in that first year, and it had only leveled out after two more years. The bugs had invaded five years back. Thats why mortars, regular mines, and somesuch others got taken away. Weren't cost effective, so says the Coalition. Rutter's.
And, because of that, or so Mal thought, his company was being pushed back steadily into a small circle, barely enough to house so many. Still were some odd three hundred soldiers left outta four hundred original. And less every minute.
Mal was dragging Zoe towards Simon, who had set up a makeshift infirmary in the middle of the "wagon circle". That was what the troops nicknamed the circle of buildings in the middle, and it was the only thing that was saving their asses from being overrun. She was trying to get back to the line, ignoring the neat little hold in her side. "It's all right, Sir. Just slap a bandage on either side. I have another kidney." She was, obviously, delerious.
"Nothin' doin'. You're gonna survive, Sergeant. Thats an order."
Someone from Beta squadron started yelling out something in French, which was soon taken up by his squadmates: "On ne passe pas! They shall not pass!!!" When the rest of the 57th heard it, they started chanting it, some in French, others in Chinese, a couple in English, and a smattering of other languages for good measure.
"ON NE PASSE PAS!!!!!" Mal smiled.
Tracey huffed as he moved from cover to cover, his rifle feeling mighty inadequate against the onslaught. The warriors were few and far between now. Most rushes, they were easily three quarter worker bugs, that which is more like to die and not protest. Those where the harmless ones. They were the cannon fodder. But, they had the nasty habit of looking just like leopards or tigers.
And, now, they were the ones who held back a bit, as warriors and Spitters worked away at the Browncoats. Tracey shot a few shots at a Spitter, which blew up in a satisfyingly loud fireball. A few more shots rang ovehead. He smiled as the bright grunt took out a few enemies that Tracey would like as not been able to handle. Well, it saved ammo for him.
His squad, Charlie, was asifned the space in between the original infirmary and a small side barracks. Killzone twelve. Well, plenty of folks were getting killed, alright.
Just when things were starting to seem survivable, the ground shook. "Go-se."
The tanker was here.
Saturday, January 20, 2007 11:05 AM
Monday, January 22, 2007 6:35 AM
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