Chapter 505 (2/2)

The Precursor Autonomous War Machines and the Dwellerspawn, which had been concentrating on the firebase, were completely unprepared for Undrat and his fellow Tukna'rn infantrymen laying down heavy firepower straight into their faces. For twenty-nine days they had used this as a staging/spawning area to push against the annoying firebase without opposition.

You will not have thirty, Undrat thought to himself, making on his helmet HUD a spawning pool he could not get a bead on.

The Tukna'rn who had slammed to earth behind him was knelt down. Outriggers extended around him, he had one fist slammed into the dirty with the haze of an engaged graviton spike around the armor gauntlet. The Tukna'rn looked where Undrat had marked, marked it himself, and squeezed the firing grip with his free hand.

The massive 105mm snub barrel rapid fire artillery unit on the Tukna'rn's back configued the munitions, sent the order to the nanoforge, which wet-printed the rounds into the autoloader.

Less then five seconds since Undrat tagged the spawning pool, where huge rude beasts were heaving their half-formed bodies from the thick liquid, the 105 barked three times, the shockwave rippling out as the blast deflector channeled it to either side and behind the gunner. The gunner's inertial dampener howled as it took the heavy recoil.

The gunner looked at a new target, assessed it according to doctrine and the battle roaring around him, and the gun shifted position.

The spawning pool erupted as all three rounds plunged into the thick liquid and detonated. Liquid hate fountained up as the FOOF enhanced WP-thermite plasma napalm gleefully went to work converting everything to carbon ash and then burning the ash for good measure.

Undrat wasn't paying attention. He knew the heavy indirect fire troops would handle their end of the job. He was laying fire into one of the medium-heavy pillbugs, shattering its teeth, its faceplates, ripping out its eyes.

A brace of hypersonic missiles slammed through the sound barrel, got close, kicked in the sprint drives, and fired off the explosive 'kicker' and two foot tungsten steel rods turned to liquid and hit the gouges in the armor. Three of them penetrated deeply, boiling the flesh around them.

The creature roared and another set of rockets hit it, this time from the side, and the armor gave out with a soft thump, innards burning as steam rose in the air.

There was a flickering as time and space tried to fold and twist. The 105 gunners saw it being marked, gave the munitions orders, and their heavy indirect fire weapons roared. The rounds arced up, deployed fins to make final adjustments, and plunged down. The tips slammed deep into the earth and the two foot tall rods quivered for a second.

They all went off with a deep THRUM that sent a wave of sparkling gold and silver energy across the battlefield.

The creatures and mechanical combat troops that had started to phase in didn't even get a chance to scream as the temporal munitions slammed the door in their faces. Those that were partway through exploded into gobs of tissue. Those who made it came under immediate fire as the grav-strikers pulled danger close white knuckle runs, bringing the heavy guns to bear as they streaked across the battlefield at less than twenty-five meters up.

Undrat switched targets as Madame Three-Eighteen sang her aria in the face of a hateful universe.

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There was nothing but smoke and steam as the grav-strikers dropped down.

Undrat stepped forward, grabbing the lift bar, and pulled himself into the grav-striker.

”Cool down, deslush. We've got another target area,” the big Treana'ad NCO yelled as he climbed into the striker behind Undrat.

Undrat just nodded and triggered the icon for affirmative.

He checked his heat. It was only at 36.87%. Slush was only at 52.72%. Both were dropping as he watched, the cooling fins on the creation engine and around the barrel no longer glowing red.

The striker tilted slightly, lifting up from where it had been resting on a pad of purplish graviton energy that snarled and snapped against the ground.

Undrat grabbed the stabilization bar above his head with one hand, pulling Madame Three-Eighteen close to his chest, the barrel at a forty-five degree angle, with the other.

As the Terrans say: just another day in paradise, Undrat thought to himself as the grav-striker launched itself into the air with the scream of graviton engines and reactionless drives.

Behind them, the enemy's ability to bring in reinforcements had been shattered.

The six Atrekna watching glided away, following the grav strikers on discs of phasic energy. They were completely silent, wrapped in psychic protections, completely undetectable to technological systems. Their methods were tried and true and had proved to be effective.

Above them, in gliders with no metal parts and only phasic neutral polymers, the six green mantids banked their gliders and rode the air currents after them, tiny helmets converting their complex thoughts to the plain and simple thoughts of dim birds of prey to any who might scan for brain activity while leaving their true intellect hidden. The bioluminscent chemical pinlights on their wings blinked slowly, but still passed on encoded data using an ancient but still usable code.

Written on the side of one of the gliders was the phrase: 'he who adapts eats'.

Above them, silently gliding along, a larger glider contained twelve black mantids, all of them carefully shielded.

Sooner or later, they knew it would be their turn to eat.