Chapter 638: The Spoked Offensive (1/2)

Many species have wondered exactly what can stop Terran Descent Humanity. They feel sure that somewhere out there is something that can withstand the might of the Terran Descent Humanity's overwhelming strength, adaptability, and resilience.

There was a planet that could have. Everything about the planet, from the weather, to the microbes, to the flora and fauna, was designed to kill Terran Descent Humanity. Some of the creatures upon that planet even looked at the toxic stew of the human body and saw it as food.

I am sometimes asked what happened to that planet. What happened to those creatures?

The answer is simple: The Mantids Glassed it eight thousand years ago.

And Terran Descent Humanity, being humanity, recreated it in all of its lethal glory.

Behold: TerraSol. - Most High Great Super Secret Agent Ba'ahn Ya'ard, Lanaktallan espionage agent, TerraSol, 86th Century

People think of Terrans and only think of Terran Descent Humanity, the Clone Consortium, Digital Sentiences, and, of course, the cyborgs. People know that the humans were lonely, so they cloned themselves, created advanced digital sentiences in their image, and even journeyed out into the stars to find friends.

What they often forget is the Biological Artificial Sentience Systems. Most think it's simply genetically altered humans or humans reskinned into a new body.

They forget about one simple thing the humans did before even achieving superluminal flight.

The Uplift.

Behold: Humanity's Children. - General A'armo'o, the Atomic Hooves, Reflections upon War.

They lost us for over eight thousand years.

They did not forget us.

Just as we would never forget them. - CW3 Jack ”Chief” Nuntru, The Scent of Memories Upon the WInd

Ralvex flexed his knees slightly as the striker set down. His armor felt light, almost like cloth, even though it weighed over five hundred kilos. It was heavy scout armor, with power assist, movement assist, light battlescreens, grav spike generation, and inertia dampeners.

It was just lighter than his thousand kilo heavy assault suit he had worn for the last three years of fighting on Genverall-3 against the Dwellerspawn and the Slorpies.

No words were spoken, no commands over the radio, just other passengers of the light striker moving off and taking their assigned positions. Ralvex was third off, going right, unlimbering the cut down M318A6 close infantry support weapon. It synched up automatically, running on passive systems rather than ranging sensors immediately scanning the area.

The jungle had been blasted away by atomics a month prior then had been shelled that morning, leaving huge gaping holes from the high impulse thermobaric rounds detonating in air bursts backed by defoliants.

Ralvex ducked down behind a twisted and burned ground vehicle frame, tabbing up a piece of stimgum and chewing it while he waited. He kept glancing at the other eight members of the team even as he kept scanning the streets of the deserted and overgrown city.

The crew of the striker quickly covered it with a camo net that would even help conceal it from broad phasic sweeps. Ralvex knew that a simple pulsed electrical current would turn the net to ash so it wouldn't inhibit the striker if it had to take off suddenly. Once it was covered the crew moved back into the striker, waiting for whatever happened next.

Major Harkrik, a Treana'ad, motioned to Ralvex and the others on the right flank to gather up.

Ralvex stayed silent, the counter-acoustic systems making him completely soundless, as he jogged up.

The Major held out one hand and everyone stacked their hands on top of it.

”All right, command says the slorpies are growing crystals two klicks in. They're sticking to inside skyraker stubs and semi-intact parking garages, but a drone spotted the phasic signatures yesterday,” the Major said.

Everyone blinked icons to signify they could hear him.

”Double skirmish line. Chief will take point,” the Major said, nodding at the figure in armor much like Ralvex's, only thicker and bulkier. Not because it was heavier armor, but because the being it protected massed twice as much as Ralvex. ”It's probably oozies and slimers building the crystals and brain fungus charging it, but command wants to know.”

”Drones?” Sergeant First Class Tvn.Plerk asked, his voice tight with stress as he leaned forward on his third leg, lifting up his right leg and flexing it to ease up a slight twinge in his knee.

”Negative. The one pass was enough for them to seed the whole area with puffballs and spitters,” the Major said.

”Extraction if it goes sideways?” Staff Sergeant Ngrwark asked. Her icon was a tiny picture of when she'd competed for the Regimental Body Building Championship back on Terra only ten years local before, three years Galactic Reckoning.

”Beat feet back to the striker. Go loud the whole way back. Ninth CyberQueen's Royal Armor is fifteen miles out, they'll feint toward the city, their tanks should draw anything big enough to worry us,” the Major said.

Everyone blinked icons.

”Let's go,” the Major said.

Ralvex knew his place. Lead, right flank, fifteen meters behind Chief, five meters ahead of Ngrwark. On his left Tvn.Plerk was moving with the odd fluid walk of the tripod Pubvian troopers, his weapon the same as Ralvex's.

A new innovation was built into Ralvex's scout armor. The feet had a slight electrical discharge that numbed vegetation nerve bundles in different sized patches, lasting anywhere from a few seconds to a few minutes so that the pattern was somewhat random.

Moving along, Ralvex wondered how long it would take the jungle to come up with a counter-measure.

He remembered the Second Telkan War.

--sneaky sneaky-- 298 said.

”Uh-huh,” Ralvex said quietly.

298 had been assigned to Ralvex a year ago, replacing 525, who had been assigned to the Cyberqueen's Royal Robot Combat Armor Division. He'd worked with Ralvex long enough to understand the Telkan was taciturn where others of his species were pretty talkative.

--music-- 298 asked.

”Later. No harmonic risks,” Ralvex said, giving the inside of the shop another look over through the shattered bay windows.

Up ahead Chief checked either way across the cross street. Ralvex watched as Chief suddenly gave a complex flash of three hand symbols. His armor translated them as fast as the other trooper made them.

Clear on both sides and ahead.

Ralvex checked the air and the sides of the buildings right before he took his turn to dash across the street.

Moss, vines, sporadic crystal growths, barnacles and puffers.

Standard for cities overrun by Slorpie forces.

At one point the nine man team edged by an Ohm class Dwellerspawn that sat unmoving, the eyes dark, just a slow steady rumble as the book lungs under the armor slowly inhaled and exhaled. It had been unmoving long enough that the moss and feeder vines had covered it in a thick mat. Sunflowers, the kind that shot 4.5 MW laser beams focused by reflective petals not the smaller ones with the crunchy seeds, had grown on top of the Dwellerspawn.

Ralvex made sure his armor got a good recording. The sunflowers' laser was strong enough and had enough range to knock down missiles and artillery round.

Ralvex pointed it out silently to the Major, who gave a quick set of hand signals.

Mount the side of the building and stick get eyes around.

Ralvex jumped up and scampered up the side of the building on all fours, 298 running the grav systems so that the Telkan didn't rip out segments of the moss or the building facing. He planted one foot and one hand, holding onto the Mini-Madame with his other hand, his foot hanging free.

The massive Dwellerspawn was covered in sunflowers, all of them fed by a web of nutrient carrying vines.

--new-- 298 said.

”Uh-huh,” Ralvex answered. He dropped down, letting his Icarus land him safely in a soft flare of light, the blue illumination letting him know he was running stealth.

Ralvex signed back that the whole back of the Ohm Class Dwellerspawn was covered. The flowers were dormant, but being fed by nutrient pipes.

The Major nodded and signaled and the team moved on.

Just shy of two clicks Chief made a hand signal and everyone hustled to cover, taking a moment to toss a 'shock grenade' that would stun any nerve bundles in the moss for a few hours.

Ralvex knelt down in the entryway of an old shop, the doors and windows gone but the upper story collapsed into the building, giving Ralvex full cover on his right.

Chief broke the seal on his faceplate and Ralvex felt his balls tighten up in reflex.

Chief's eyes had the clear nictitating membrane over them and he had black warsteel studs along his muzzle.

Ralvex knew Chief had the ware to keep his bloodstream, fur, and skin from getting contaminating, but after nearly a decade of fighting the Dwellerspawn Ralvex had a healthy respect for the pollen, spores, and tiny organisms that came along with any Atrekna crawl.

Ralvex watched as Chief sniffed at the air, the big blocky head moving almost daintily as he sampled the breeze.

Chief's helmet closed and Chief hustled over to stunned spot and crouched down. Again, Ralvex's faceshield translated the quick hand motions even though Ralvex had learned the sign language.

Heavy phasic source Atrekna sweat.

Ralvex looked around, wondering where the source was.

Other troopers joked that troopers like Chief could smell an upwind wounded Dwellerspawn hiding under a bed in an active brothel on payday at twenty miles and even identify the type.