Chapter Sixty-Two - Getting Out of Hand


    Chapter Sixty-Two - Getting Out of Hand


    You can never be too prepared when dealing with an incursion. When on defensive duty, it behooves a commanding officer to spend their entire budget on good equipment. Yes, cutting corners is tempting, but history and statistics have proven that more money is saved by having better equipment than by purchasing and equipping soldiers with poorer equipment.


    --The Awe Strikers, CO manual, Page 257, 2044 edition


    ***


    This is getting out of hand, I shouted over the din of constant gunfire.


    The debris barrier had served its purpose, it had slowed down the alien swarm for a good long while.


    Now, the wall of crumbled cement was riddled with holes as artillery shots from the antithesis exploded against the far side and bigger models rammed their way through the debris. The smaller, more nimble aliens just continued to flow over the wall without much issue.


    We were burning them. We were shooting them full of holes. We were even outright melting them with acid and resonators. The occasional bomb set off in their midst was chewing through their numbers too. I was tossing everything over to the wall to slow the tide down.


    Blackhole bombs could only take so much before they stopped. Zero-kelvin grenades would slow the advance down, but only in pockets. Garrot grenades were great at mulching the smaller antithesis, but against the more armoured ones they would break apart after a few seconds of sustained use.


    Gomorrahs flames grew hotter as she switched over to a new gun. Soon the PMCs on her side were inching closer to mine, away from the scorching heat. I think Crackshot Cowboy to my right got some sort of infinite-ammo thing for his gun because he was firing a whole lot faster. Hed need to replace the barrel soon, it was glowing orange, and not from any RGB.


    Christ, Gomorrah said. This isnt working. Were not going to hold them back forever.


    Eventually bigger, stronger models would show up. The barricade we had would fail. Or maybe wed just run out of bullets. There were vans driving over to the backlines with entire pallets of ammo boxes, but I didnt think that would be enough, even with teams of volunteers reloading magazines that were being run back and forth.


    Myalis, one of those fire-lasers, please, I said. She dropped the grenade into my open palm and I flung it forwards with a grunt. It flew a good long ways before bursting and sniping a dozen aliens with fiery beams of reddish light.


    That poked a hole in the alien carpet.


    The hole was filled a moment later.


    Fuck me, I swore.


    Yeah, I feel ya, Jimothy said over our shared comms.


    I had points to spare. Thousands of them. What I didnt have was time. I was really tempted to start chucking nukes or their equivalents onto the aliens, but I had to worry about collateral damage, which meant using more precise weaponry.


    Go wider, Gomorrah said. Bigger effects, everyone.


    Bigger effects... I could do that. Myalis, I need the mother of all acid bombs. I want to carpet the entire area in alien-melting goop.


    That can be arranged. Might I suggest bombs which have highly-pressurized compressed space within them? If filled with sufficiently dangerous chemicals you could quite literally flood a large space with your chemical of choice!


    A model three with its eyes leaking down the side of its face jumped onto the barricade, jaws wide open to reveal a mouth with gums that had turned to liquid. A militiaman jammed the butt of his gun into the aliens jaw and its many teeth tinkled onto the ground before it flopped back onto the other side of the barricade.


    More aliens came pouring out of the smoke with their skin melting off. Eyes and lungs seemed to be impacted first. The antithesis were usually rather quiet but now they were gasping for breath with liquid rasps.


    Having no eyes meant that they werent as coordinated as usual. Plenty of them were running parallel to the barricade now, and a number of them charged up and rammed the cement walls head-first, some hard enough that they died then and there.


    I noticed some sort of gel-like substance sticking to a lot of them, usually around their legs and on the smaller models, their stomachs and tails and torsos. It was eating through their flesh at an alarming rate.


    The gas was slowly dissipating. Or rather, it was spreading itself thin.


    Nice work, Gomorrah said. It doesnt seem flammable either, which is nice, I suppose.


    I mean, if you want to go all thermobaric on them, go nuts, I said.


    Dont tempt me, Gomorrah said.


    Our banter was cut off by a ringing. The Family was calling, and it seemed urgent. I answered, of course, while bringing my Bullcat up to spray at what aliens were making it through the acid cloud.


    Everyone, Laserjacks voice said over the line. Were almost in the clear. Almost. We have a large number of higher-numbered models coming. Brace yourselves. This is about to get a lot harder. For those of you at the very front... thank you. If you would rather back out now, well understand.


    I think the PMCs and militia got similar messages. A lot of them were clearly listening to something.


    And then, just like that, there was a sudden exodus.


    I stared as entire squads grabbed their gear and ran back.


    What the hell? I asked.


    Theyre retreating, Gomorrah said simply.


    Why? Were winning, arent we? We can take on a few of the bigger bastards, no problem.


    That wasnt quite true. No problem was a lie. It would be hard. It would be much harder without the help of non-samurai.


    Ladies, Jimothy said. I dont rightly think Im ready for this part. Going to back up a ways and lay down fire from afar. Good luck, alright?


    I cursed under my breath. Why now, of all times?


    I think I need to make a call, Gomorrah said solemnly.


    ***