First Contact

First Contact - Fourth Wave - 471 First Telkan



First Contact - Fourth Wave - 471 First Telkan

First Contact - Fourth Wave - 471 First Telkan

The Atrekna were feeling an emotion they had long considered purged from their persons. A feeling of cold logical frustration was the first part. Then, as they attempted to roll back time around the captured forces of the enemy, they found that the enemy themselves were temporally stabilized, and they began to feel anger. Normally the Atrekna excluded the enemy from being brought back to the strength they possessed at the beginning of the battle through a simple trick of temporal folding, which meant the enemy had been forced to undergo the passage of time while their own forces could be brought back, fresh and whole.

But the enemy seemed to want to be left moving through the time stream in such a way. Rather than their strength diminishing, their strength either stayed at parity or increased.

Worse, as the Atrekna forced the enemy to undergo another revolution, some kept up with the same tactics that had enabled them to carry the battle previously while still others tried different methods.

It was bad enough that nearly a fifth of their Conclaves and Quorums were forced to hold a single enraged primate in position to keep it from being supported by friendly units or moving to those unit's support, but bringing forth the slavespawn from the breeding ring was only seeming to give the enemy target practice with their weapons that apparently had bottomless ammunition capacity.

The new enemy was different than the Ancient Enemy. The Insectiods have moved with one mind, one purpose, and when their Overmind was shattered the Insectiods had broken into small units, still controlled locally by powerful psions. They were familiar, beings of appetite and logic, as were the Atrekna, and so they were able to be defeated.

The Lanaktallan had been, like all herd species, moving as one coherent whole. While their Overmind had never extended to the battlefield, merely their society, their War Mind was easy enough to recognize and counter.

The Atrekna had fought individualistic species before. They were easily overwhelmed, unable to withstand the Atrekna Overmind.

The new enemy, however, seemed to combine the worst of both cooperative species and individualist species.

They operated, strategically, as a whole, as if they were being controlled by an Overmind. Even suppressing communications did not seem to work. They followed intricate battleplans, quickly moving to support one another. Additionally, the new enemy seemed to constantly seek out battle, advancing into the Atrekna forces. They seemed to not pay attention to the Law of Diminishing Returns, instead pushing harder at the Atrekna forces.

There was an insectoid species, true, but they lacked any Overmind. The Lanaktallan that could be detected in orbit were missing the War Mind and Herd Mind. The Mantid, the cruel hated Mantid, were lacking an Overmind.

Overlaying all of this new enemy was a scream ripped from a raw and bloody throat, raised up in once voice.

"DIE ALONE!"

The majority of the primates were missing, and the Atrekna felt satisfaction that the new warrior slave species of the Mantid had been dealt with.

But the ones that remained, specifically the roaring enraged individual that had been the first to make planetfall, were proving to be a lot to handle.

The Atrekna knew they could win. There could be no other outcome. They were the masters of the temporal tides of this or any other universe. Despite the fact that it took an almost logarithmic increase in energy and effort to reach back to the point that all that could be brought forward were copies, they were still able to master the energetic tides.

The problem was, the new enemy seemed unaware of the simply reality of an Atrekna victory.

Trapped in discrete bubbles each forces fought as if they had not been engaged in combat already.

The Atrekna were discovering frustration and anger.

They didn't like it.

--------------

Ekret stared at the rippling colorful wall in front of him. His outer scouts had noted it, that it was to the north and south of his forces as they sped along on their hoverfans and graviton repulsors, engaging any groups of enemy they found along the way as they hurried to engage the enemy that was streaming toward two large cities and relieve on of the military bases that had already been present on the planet.

"What is it?" Ekret asked, taking the empty ration tube out of his mouth.

"No clue, boss," Bouncy said.

"Anyone else know?" Ekret asked.

"729, in Tank 13C4, thinks it's an effect of the temporal attacks. We can see it because we're outside of it, inside who knows how it looks," Bouncy said.

"Hmph," Ekret said. He slapped the top of the turret. "Pull back a half mile, let's see how much it likes a few main gun shots."

"Will do, boss," Bouncy said.

After a second the tank slid backwards, the hoverfans roaring. The entirety of HHC Company pulled back a half mile and rotated to face the wall.

Ekret dumped the saliva out of the ration tube as he looked up. A way up it looked like the wall tilted inward.

Probably to form a bubble, he thought to himself.

"Let's try some lawn dart war shot first," Ekret said.

One by one on his visor the tanks of HHC notified that they were ready.

At the signal they all opened fire. The wall vibrated, shook like it was made of gelatin, then settled down.

Ekret zoomed in with his visor.

The APDSFSDU rounds lay on the ground in front of the wall, the rounds gleaming dully in the light. They were still needle sharp and the fins were intact.

All right. You can bleed off kinetic energy, he thought to himself.

"Give 'em a snap-crackle-pop volley," Ekret ordered.

The tanks fired. Bright actinic flashes bloomed on the wall. It rippled again, making a booooinginging noise. The wall turned iridescent, then slowly the white faded and the colors began separating back into twisting and flowing bands.

"Give 'em a phasic," Ekret ordered.

This time it took long moments for the wall, which had turned black, to return to normal.

"Huh, didn't like that," Ekret said. He took the tube out of his mouth. "Bouncy, can we still talk to Fleet?"

"The time/date stamps are off, but, yeah, boss," Bouncy said.

"Upload the data," he said. He turned and looked off to the south-east, toward the mountains that were beyond the curvature. "Let's head out, try to avoid getting into one of these bubbles."

"Will do, boss," Bouncy answered.

Ekret chewed on the end of the empty ration tube as his tank turned and began heading back along the route that would take them to where Dwellerspawn were being reported attacking towns.

Nothing is completely inert. Everything can be affected by something else. We just have to figure out how to affect it, he thought as the tank kept moving.

There was a battle to win.

------------------

Morgork of the Six Hats roared out his rage as he clamped down on the firing grips in his hands, which caused all twenty of the guns on his dakkaharness to open fire, the roar of the gunfire merging with his own bestial roar of rage.

The Dwellerspawn were all around him and his boys. They'd zappa'd down to the planet to find themselves immediately surrounded.

"SHOOT DEM ON ALL SIDEZ!" he roared out.

The ClankyBoyz were in their armored cans, buzzsaws and flamers and grabbers making fast work of the Dwellerspawn that came too close. The Flamerboyz were washing everything with fire, sometimes puffing out big clouds of little bugs before they could get too close.

The jungle was alive with Dwellerspawn, but Morgork and his boyz had been born in jungle, had been raised by it. By a dangerous and lethal jungle that ate whatever it could.

It wasn't personal. It was just how it was.

Morgork's mind was full of conflicting memories. Of plasma fire raining down on the seas of Venus, of the sands of Anthill, of the blasted plasmaglass of Wolf-359 and Wolfster's World, memories of almost ten thousand years of fighting.

He could even remember being an elfy-boy.

A little girl happy that her mother had given her a little flower to take of.

An elderly humie who puttered around her garden in the warm sunlight of Sol, tending to the flowers and plants with love and care.

He remembered being all of them.

And he roared with all of their murdered fury at the Dwellerspawn that screeched and screamed around him as him and the boyz tore them apart with dakka and rage.

--------------

The shimmering stopped and for the third time First Telkan Marine Division was entirely enveloped by howling radioactive dust. Atomic weapons detonated and he could hear himself talking to Casey, ordering him to switch munitions.

He paid no attention to his own voice, watching the feed from multiple drones speeding through the slight soap-bubble border between First Telkan and where Casey was fighting. The Dwellerspawn were so thick that he couldn't even see the ground. They were running over the mangled and trampled bodies of those who came before, the bodies so thick that Vuxten couldn't see the ground through the high resolution cameras.

Two of the drones went dead.

Then two more.

--casey three miles-- 471 said.

"Almost..." Vuxten replied.

Three were knocked out of the air by a graviton impulse round going off that 'fluttered' gravity from negative two G's to a crushing 10Gs in the localized area.

It tore Dwellerspawn into fine chunks, leaving them raining out of the sky.

--two point five miles-- 471 one said.

"Pop the first one," Vuxten ordered.

The sole remaining temporal stabilization round armed drone fired off.

For a split second everything went white.

The scouts at the edge of the 'bubble' reported that the shimmering boundary pulled away nearly a hundred meters.

Only one drone remained, less than two miles from where the seismic sensors said Casey was operating.

The high definition camera picked up the armor.

Vuxten just stared. Casey was standing in the middle of a massive crater formed by overlapping craters. Plasma glass had thick ichor boiling on the surface, chunks of chitin the size of a groundcar were scattered everywhere.

As he watched one of the massive Dwellerspawn, easily the size of a dropship capable of carrying a fully armored Marine company, reared up above its fellows, its massive carapace easily meters thick of biological armor that was a matrix containing biologically extruded battlesteel and warsteel fibers.

The heavy gun over Casey's right shoulder put a single round into it as he strafed the edge of the crater, ripping out chunks of the edge, extending the edge of the crater. His right hand was firing a steady stream of 30mm projectiles that shredded any Dwellerspawn hit by them. His left hand was extended out, a cutting bar surrounded by a bright red nimbus of energy ripping the face and front legs off of a Dwellerspawn.

The armor was entirely wreathed in purple and red lightning.

The massive Dwellerspawn turned inside out as the main gun hit it, everything around it exploding away in rags and chunks that rained down, joining the steady ash fall that was covering everything.

A smaller gun on Casey's left shoulder oriented, the barrel flashed.

The drone feed cut out.

--2421 meter anti-air/point defense range it looks like-- 471 said.

"Fab up the next set. Make sure they're squawking Confederate ID's," Vuxten said.

He turned to the main holotank, checking on the Division. No major injuries. He had three Marines with broken limbs who had been caught by temporal arrival merges, another Marine with a concussion from where a Dwellerspawn had picked him up and beaten him headfirst against a light armored fighting vehicle before the LAFV had gutted it with a single 20mm gun shot.

The terrain rippled and Vuxten closed his eyes.

The city was back. For a third time.

"Send the orders to 17th Field Artillery," Vuxten said, not opening his eyes.

"Acknowledged," Lieutenant Markal said. "They're firing."

Vuxten squeezed his eyes shut tighter, balling his fists.

"Negative detonation. Drone survelliance shows the rounds hit something at the six thousand foot mark and were destroyed," Markal said.

Vuxten opened his eyes, moving to the holotank. He rewound the telemetry feed and watched.

At 6,122 feet the telemetry suddenly cut off. Drone feed showed the contrails ending and a large explosion going off.

Not the nuclear warhead. The fuel in the rocket assisted artillery rounds going off.

"Order them to fire again," Vuxten said.

"They're fabbing. Fifteen to twenty minutes till they can load the rounds," Markal said.

Vuxten swore, staring at the holotank.

A cartoon meme popped up in his vision. It was of Lieutenant Jekti in a paper work uniform with an Atrekna looking down at him.

WORKER JEKTI YOU HAVE BEEN FINED TWO WORK PERIODS FOR UNAUTHORIZED FLIGHT PLANS was written on it.

Vuxten snorted. At least it wasn't me.

Another meme popped up.

WORKER VUXTEN, YOU ARE FINED TWO HOURS PAY FOR DISREGARDING MAXIMUM FLIGHT CEILING was written on a picture of him flying a kite and the kite suddenly exploding.

"Tell 17th to load the chemical rounds," Vuxten said.

"Acknowledged," someone said.

"Who's got fuel air or HIT rounds fabbed up?" Vuxten asked, still staring at the holotank.

LT Markal consulted his console, which still gleamed like it was wet despite the fact that it was completely dry to the touch.

"11th Field Artillery," he said. "They're at the southeastern corner, currently trying to see if they can overstress or drop the bubble wall. They're outside the city by a mile."

"Tell them to change fire, fire on the city center. Maximum height for the parabolic arc is three thousand feet. I want the HIT to go off about halfway up the buildings. He's got to shatter that plasteel and crysteel facing," Vuxten said. He glanced at the corner of his vision, where the Confederate Field Manual for operations involving chemicals was still displayed. "Otherwise the Dwellerspawn and those machines are just going to rush into the buildings where we can't see them."

"Roger that, sir," Markal said.

Vuxten turned and looked at the drone feed for the 'bubble wall'. He'd ordered it edged with FASCAMs and as he watched a group of Dwellerspawn rushing for the edge hit the minefield and began taking heavy casualties.

"How long till we can get autonomous self-healing minefields out there?" Vuxten asked.

"Twenty more minutes," someone said from behind him.

"Any signal from Fleet?" Vuxten asked.

"Negative. Just the "this message will not be repeated' message again," the same person said.

Vuxten disliked the current situation. Marine doctrine stressed mobility, advancing into the enemy, overwhelming firepower. It was the Army's job to hold it once it had been taken.

Opening up a notepad he made a quick annotation to suggest that Marine Training have a section on digging in for more than just hunkering down during artillery storms, as well as suggesting more cross training with the Confederate Army.

"11th is firing," Markal said, his voice flat and dead.

Vuxten turned back to watch. In the few minutes that there had been no counter from First Telkan the Dwellerspawn and the Type-IV's had swarmed into the city. Vuxten clenched his fists at the sight of entire crowds being 'harvested' and their bodies left behind for the next wave to devour. In the parks the Dwellerspawn were wading into the decorative lakes and ponds, the water starting to bubble and fizz. Around a Dwellerspawn the size of a cargo hauler a thick layer of reddish fungus seemed to be spreading out around the floating creature, covering the water.

"FOOF that," Vuxten said, tagging that particular lake.

The detonations started. The High Impulse Thermobaric rounds exploded in white fire. Windows shattered, more than a few skyrakers shuddered and began to collapse. Fuel air explosions went off and more buildings began to collapse as the windows shattered for blocks around.

Vuxten picked up his helmet, turning it over in his hands as he watched.

The chemical rounds streaked across the city, deploying their nozzles from the shells and spinning. Some exploded, the trinary chemicals mixed by the spin of the weapon.

Vuxten squeezed his helmet, watching.

More HIT went off, lower now, flattening smaller buildings. Fires had started.

The Lanaktallan Most High of the city was frantically calling for a military base and a military Most High that had existed over a million years ago.

This time the, the third time, the Dwellerspawn started going at the bodies, then pulled back from them, pawing at the air, gnashing their jaws. It was obvious to Vuxten that they wanted to eat, but something was preventing them.

The mechanical attackers avoided the bodies, instead sweeping out of the city, running for the edge of the 'bump'.

Vuxten could feel the cold rage.

"Tell 17th to hold off on loading the nuclear rounds," Vuxten snapped. "Put out the T-Shift warning."

"Sir?" One of the analysts asked, looking up. "It should be another fifteen minutes."

"Do it," Vuxten snapped.

He could hear the warning being passed on.

The city wavered and dissolved with a sigh. Vegetation surged up out of the ground or appeared from mid-air.

The drones immediately began to do topography and thermal comparisons.

"6th Field Artillery is firing," Markal said.

Vuxten just nodded, turning to where 471 was sitting up on a holotank with nearly two dozen other greenies.

"Anything?" Vuxten asked.

--limited temporal equipment templates beyond stabilizers-- 471 said. --doctrine hole--

"I know. Do what you can," Vuxten said.

471 stared at the templates as he slowly, for him and his people, flicked through them. First Telkan had access to the full library of templates that Active Duty Confederate military forces had access to, but the Temporal section didn't go much beyond temporal stabilizers.

The air around him shimmered with equations and he looked at his fellow greenies, who were all looking around. Some had detectors cobbled together, others had on goggles, some had devices built to gauge levels.

471 looked down at the device in his hands of his own making.

There was temporal energy being released. The kind you got down past the event horizon of a black hole, where the chronotrons had been almost worn out by the time dilation of the intense gravity.

He looked at his fellows and they all compared data as they temporal shifting of the landscape finished. 884 was pointing at his own meters, which was ticking at the far end.

--temporal upspikes just like end of last shift-- 884 said.

--can see 'spawnies on thermo-- 369 said.

--first part delete old area-- 471 said. --release temporal hold old area go poof--

--natural temporal autocorrection-- 740 said. --still keeping spawnie and clankie--

--easy enough-- 884 said. --saw that with 2nd telkan division--

--next bring forward same spot but different time-- 471 one said.

--bring more spawnie next-- 884 said. --bio only. can only bring up clankie version during city--

471 stared at the equations that danced around in the air. --repeat repeat repeat--

Silence for a moment, broken only by the humm of the hologram projectors and the tiny nanoforges embedded in the greenie's abdomens.

--each pull is chronotron decay same-- 539 asked.

--yes-- 884 answered. --temporal shimmering by chronotron energy equalization from flat chronotron and energetic chronotron interaction shimmy shimmy--

471 suddenly reared up, pulling his bladearms close and raising his arms.

--YES-- he broadcast.

He threw up the equations fast, the others nodding.

Vuxten didn't see it, turned away and looking at the map of the battlefield. He reached up and slowly slicked back the fur on his head with one gauntlet clad hand. He felt like he'd run a mile in unpowered armor.

"There has to be a controller somewhere," Vuxten mumbled, staring at the map. "They shifted their tactic. Not much, but enough to try to counter us."

It was raining outside, where before it had been clear. This time, when the jungle had appeared, dark heavy rainclouds had arrived with it. The defoliant was water soluble to keep it from contaminating the ground water, which meant it was having limited effect on the rain soaked and covered plants.

--need fab unit-- 471 said.

Vuxten looked down the list. "Three nine two alpha isn't being used. Have at it."

--too small. need class 5 or better-- 471 answered. --engine not forge--

Vuxten frowned and checked. "Alpha two nine three is free. Use that one."

--need spooky and strange particle engine that one not-- 471 said.

Vuxten checked again. There was an ammunition creation engine for the heavier rounds that wasn't in use. "Use Echo Bravo six two five."

--good good good-- 471 said. --gonna find em--

Vuxten nodded. Echo Company, 5th Battalion, 3rd Brigade was in contact with nearly twenty of the super-heavy class. He saw that 8th Battalion of 6th Armor Regiment was going to the assist and simply ordered them to do it anyway so they were covered.

After putting in a single complex order, 471 and his fellows went back to building the template. They'd need to use three drones instead of one, the equipment would interfere with each other if they were too close. It took several times, having to break when the dustbowl came back.

The drones going to check on Casey ran face first into a hellstorm of plasma fire that seemed to fill the entire bubble, that incinerated the Dwellerspawn as they crossed the bubble wall.

The heavy duty creation engine spit out two surface to air launchers, the heavy 120mm missiles gleaming dully in the sunlight.

Vuxten was about to order the defoliants to be used when he saw the fab that 471 requested go to work.

--wait wait wait-- 471 said.

Vuxten looked over and saw that all the greenies were cleaning their antenna while broadcasting smug emojis over their heads.

"All right," Vuxten said. He ordered the field artillery units to hold off.

The fab produced nearly seventy drones, ejecting them so that they immediately took off on the slow graviton engines and nearly silent electrical turbines.

Vuxten noticed they were marked with psychic shielding, phasic suppressors, stealth material, optical camouflage system, and completely unarmed. They slowly climbed to roughly five hundred meters and deployed into a steady pattern in groups of four.

--now now now-- 471 said.

Vuxten turned and ordered the field artillery units to open fire, going to petroleum napalm, which would barely change the temperature on modern armor and shelters.

The jungle began to burn, the Dwellerspawn inside exposed as the steam and fire filled the air.

--almost-- 471 said.

Vuxten glanced over. All the greenies were flashing emojis of excitement and watching the drone feeds. He took a quick peek and his eyes almost crossed. It was raw data, not put in any semblance of anything he could understand, just steady streams of numbers.

Again Vuxten felt the rage and hatred, cold and icy, slide down his spine.

"GET READY!" he yelled.

--yes yes yes-- 471 said.

There was a ripple and the jungle vanished, to be replaced by the howling dust and particles.

--NOW-- 471 called out.

Outside the entire sky rippled.

--gottem gotten gottem-- 471 gloated.

884 tapped the pad and grabbed control of the two launchers.

Outside the launchers fired, all eight missiles, four launched by each launcher, screamed into the air. They immediately spread out, angling for different areas.

--looky looky looky-- 471 said, taking over the holotank.

Vuxten turned to look in time to see the drone feed off of one of the mapping drones appear.

A missile flew up, racing nearly eight hundred meters up.

It went off in a staged detonation. The purple flash of phasic energy, a weird golden-white flash.

A half dozen beings appeared, surrounded by a rippling purple nimbus, the energy thick at their feet. They were all grabbing their heads.

Vuxten noted with disgust that they looked almost as if they were covered with slime.

The last part went off.

No standard or exotic explosion. No explosively forged penetrator. No directed nuclear blast.

A four foot long carbon steel rod with a barbed end and cruelly barbed fins was deadfired from the missile.

One of the creatures got a hand up, as if he could ward off the harpoon, right as it hit him. The energy shattered and it fell to the ground.

The others vanished.

Vuxten looked over at the greenies, who were all jumping up and down.

--we see we kill-- 471 broadcast smugly.

"Good. Now do it again when we force them to phase shift this place again," Vuxten said. He turned to the holotank and gave the orders to the VI helping him run the operation.

On the ground, every gun that could fire aimed upwards in a carefully coordinated fireplan. Canister rounds were loaded into mortars and artillery. Each round was tagged to be able to track trajectory and distance.

The Atrekna looked down, working together to increasing their personal shielding.

The enemy was up to something but what could they possibly do to possibly...

All the guns opened up.

Invisibility didn't help as every square meter had at least a dozen bullets or flechettes or canister rounds flying through it, all tracked.

Any round that exploded or went dead before hitting the previous ceiling had a dozen sent after it from different angles.

If those quit reporting, all the guns in the sector immediately focused on the area.

The Atrekna increased their attention to protecting themselves, reaching out to another Conclave that wasn't required to use their full power.

The landscape changed again.

The drones cycled again. Looking for any energy transfer between exhausted chronotrons and more energetic ones. Looking for the edges of any field found. Looking for any phasic energy leakage.

They found it, right where the exposed Atrekna were located.

The surface to air launchers on the ground fired again.

This time the harpoon was deflected every time.

But the pounding of the guns kept the Conclave in the air from bringing up reinforcements, instead requiring the vastly more inefficient method to be used outside the summoning area.

Vuxten smiled, for the first time in what felt like days.

"We can't hurt them, but they don't seem to be moving. Now they're just as pinned as we are," he smiled. He turned to the gathered greenies.

"Nice job," he smiled.

471 stepped forward and bowed.

The ones in back showed an image of Vuxten using his ration card to get a steaming hot turkey from a food dispenser.

"After we win this, I'll cook it myself," Vuxten promised, turning back to the holotank.

The greenies all slapped bladearms and cheered.


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