The barren expanse of the red planet stretched out in all directions beneath the vantage point where PFC Wyverne held his watch. He lay on a relatively flat portion of the boulder on a ridgeline overlooking his fire team, and ostensibly scanned the terrain in all directions for dozens of kilometers in all directions for any potential threats - or at least that was his most recent order. 

In reality, he had been perched up here for at least a few hours, and the increasing boredom caused his mind to wander and his body to get more and more restless and uncomfortable.

With his plasma rifle nestled in the crook of his left arm and attached to his combat armor by its sling, and having to carry its extra weight for this particular mission on account of its low firing noise for recon purposes - he also found it more and more difficult to keep from falling asleep as he lay prone in his observing task.

He may have dozed off for a bit, when he heard the sharp voice of his Fire Team Leader, Corporal Schulker bark through his helmet comm. 

“What the hell, PFC, you falling asleep on me up there? Report in, for fuck’s sake.”

“Uhh - Aye, aye, corporal. I mean, no - I wasn’t. All clear, nothing to report, Corporal.”

“All right, as we figured. Keep yourself alert. Get up and stretch if you have to. But you better report on time or else I’m gonna thrash you for an hour when you get back. You got me?”

“Understood, corporal. Will report in half an hour.”

This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

“Good.” The corporal’s comm clicked off. Terse and stern, and with threat of punishment. What wasn’t there to love in the great new and improved Marine Corps?

Wyverne grimaced sardonically and got up off the ground to take up the advice, which was basically an order. He squatted and stretched his stiff leg muscles, then stood up and arched his back, such that he could under his seventy kilograms of body armor and kit. Of course, being on Mars, the weight was much lessened, but the mobility was still a bit confining.

As he continued his break and even turned on the water siphon to get some necessary hydration, he surveyed the environment and took a mental break as well. 

How long had he been on this damn rock anyway by now? 

His platoon, and in fact, his entire battalion had been mobilized to Mars and the orbiting base nearly a week ago, and then had landed three days ago to begin their long and steady approach to this particular stretch of the planet.

Of course, they could have been dropped hereabouts, but the enemy forces would not have taken too kindly to that. They had established this region years ago as their own, just as the region on the other side of the planet was administered by the ‘good guys' government that Wyverne was such a happy pawn of.

And why all the trouble? The mysterious obelisk or artifact that had suddenly appeared on the surface of Mars just weeks ago. From where and from whom, no one knew - all that was certain from the Allied Forces’ reconnaissance and espionage efforts was that it was most definitely not of human origin, and the fact that it had appeared, unfortunately closer to the enemy’s territory, meant that serious measures needed to be taken immediately to gain the advantage.

And so, within a day, a mass mobilization had ensued, entailing several full Expeditionary Forces now gathering around the planet, with the enemy doing the same. 

Wyverne and his battalion had been among the first to arrive, and the Galactic Navy cruisers had been quite expedient in their hurry to get here, taking far less than the customary weeklong ‘cruise’ and more like a two-day blistering solar drive blitz - and all the gravity-inducing headaches and bodyaches that entailed.

As he stared blankly at the sandy basin below and lost in his thoughts, he realized that a portion of the terrain was moving. 

And then something, or many somethings, all began to burrow out at the same time.