“Maybe we can climb over it,” Jameison said. The arm of his dav pulled away from the cannon and he stood there for a moment before he laughed. “I just realized that I have no idea on how to use the hands at all.”
Barten looked the controls over, once, and then again. “It’s strange that they didn’t show us something like that. But given how much is controlled by AI maybe it’s taken care of?” He moved one of his davs arms towards the thorn. Only it stayed half balled in a fist and didn’t react. “You remember what Meeks said, right? About falling davs?”
“I’ve conveniently forgot about it. And the hands are something we’ll have to toss to the techs when all of this is done,” Jamieson said. “What’s the point in having fingers if they can’t be used for anything?” His dav leaned back and looked up at the thorn. It was maybe 3 stories high. And to the current them it was something insurmountable.
“I guess that we should retreat,” Barten said. “I mean. I don’t want to. Not without knowing that the others are safe. But…” The sounds of fighting had moved away from the thorn.
“We shouldn’t put ourselves at risk. And instead trust in them. It’s not ideal. But let's move back to the front lines. Maybe Command will have some flying davs to send over the thorn as support?”
“That’s a good idea,” Barten said. He looked at the thorn one last time and then turned around.
As they retreated there were signs of fighting everywhere. Some of the 4 legged giant enemies had been downed. While a number of the davs had likewise been done in. From what they could see the fighting was over. And they quickened their pace when they saw that the rescue work had already started.
“This is Private Barten of Delta Squad 5. We have been cut off from the rest of our squad mates by one of the falling thorns. Requesting aerial support.”
There was a delay before the answer came. “Understood. The flying davs are limited at the moment. Was there any type 3s around?”
“They confirmed 2 to 3 potential type 3s. We also encountered one before it disappeared. It was using the fallen thorn to its advantage.”
“Roger. We’ll send some around once there is a chance. Please aid with the recovery efforts.”
“Roger,” Barten said. Jamieson and he moved towards the nearest downed dav. It had been speared through the cockpit. And it was clear that the pilot didn’t make it.
“Hey you two,” Fred’s voice came over the comms. There was a small number of infantry and an apc sitting near a downed dav. Its legs were missing and one of the arms were shattered. “Leave that one for now. We are prioritizing the living first. Come on over here and help us turn this one onto its chest. We think that we can hear something knocking on the inside.”
After a moment’s coordination they managed to get the dav Fred wanted turned over. The techs pulled the emergency release and the hatch to the cockpit was blasted off. A battered looking pilot staggered out and onto the davs back. It was one of the remaining members of squad 4 that Barten had seen back at the funeral at Echo Base. Before it was abandoned.
With Fred’s instruction they moved from downed dav to downed dav. Helping out where they could. Or reporting that they had fallen, and sending the number on the suit home. As they worked, sounds of combat would ring out over and over. At first they were quite far away. But over time more and more dav suits had fallen back to the recovery effort.
From what Barten could see they were fighting against the 4 legs while slowly losing ground. The enemy was dodging back and forth, baiting out shots before they would dash in. With each dash a glancing blow would land on a dav. On the legs, arms, or on the rare case one of the optics. “This is Commander Gale. All soldiers are to cease the recovery actions and instead reinforce the frontline.” With new orders Barten said farewell to Fred and his team. Then Jamieson and he joined the line between the supply and the incoming enemies.
It was maddening. How the 4 legs danced about. Every time he thought that he could have landed a shot it was suddenly meters in the wrong direction. Barten felt almost as if he were playing a video game that had the difficulty turned too high. Like the others he too was caught in the enemy’s pace and forced to take step after step backwards.
One of the dav pilots had gotten impatient with losing ground as they charged forward. The shoulder of their dav rammed into the type 3 and sent it flying. Though before the dav could fire a shot to finish it off two other type 3s were already interfering.
Given the speed of the soldiers training, they hadn’t gotten to know what melee combat was like in the davs. Instead they focused on ranged combat since the enemy appeared to be all melee. Barten guessed that if command knew, or even suspected anything about the type 3s then they all would have gotten close combat training as well. Shooting beetles and millipedes was easy. But the 4 legs were downright impossible.
“New orders, we are retreating. Back towards the mountains. Fall back as orderly as possible and take care with your shots. Supply has already fallen back and there will be no resupply at this time.” Barten looked over the battlefield once the others came. Several davs had been downed, but so had several of the type 3s. He had been too absorbed with his own fights to see how they did it. And he wished that he hadn’t missed it.
“Jamieson,” Barten sent over a message. “Did you notice if the others have made it back yet? Please tell me that you did.”
“No. I’ve been trying to keep an eye out for them. But it seems more like the only things coming from the north are these daddy long leg jerks. Ugh. Why. Won’t. You. Stop. Dodging?!”
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
“What do you think happened to the others?”
“Don’t think about it. Just fall back. If they’ve fallen we’ll remember them. Adding to the remember count isn’t going to do anyone any good at all.” Barten took a slow breath. He knew what Jamieson was saying was right. But it still felt bad. To leave them behind to an unknown fate.
They passed through where the supply had been moved up to. The ground was scattered with empty cells and abandoned apcs making it uneven and hard to navigate. One moment a dav was tripping over an empty cell. And then next it kicked one towards the type 3. Somehow it caught it off guard and the type 3 stumbled around long enough to eat a shot of plasma.
Why did that work?
The moment after Barten had the thought some of the others on the line had already put it into action. Everything that wasn’t mission critical, which was everything in this case, was being kicked towards the type 3s. In some cases it worked. They were able to trip them up for the crucial moment in order to land a hit of plasma cannon fire. While in others the type 3 just dodged it like everything else. The slight change in the battlefield was enough to lessen the pressure that they were feeling as they retreated.
Things were looking good. And assuming that they were able to break off from the type 3s then the retreat should be successful. The problem that the davs ran into was when they got to the edge of the barren land.
One moment Barten was trying to shoot the type 3 in front of him. And then the next his dav suit is warning him about damage his legs. The comms crackled as a voice came through, “Retreating davs be aware of your feet. The ground is swarming with type 1s and 2s. They appear to have been buried and lying in wait.”
“Gods dammit,” Barten said as he tried to brush off the smaller type 1s and 2s. One of the millipedes had attached itself to his right calf while a beetle was nibbling on his left ankle. The moment of distraction was enough for the type 3 that he was fighting to dash in. Barten tried to block it with his cannon, but it side stepped at the last moment.
There was a flash of light that was dimmed by the screens and Barten found that he was no longer holding a plasma cannon. Instead it must have been speared through by the type 3. It was wobbling around on 3 legs, while the 4th leg was on the ground with the melted remains of Barten’s plasma cannon.
With a stomp of his left foot Barten took care of the beetle. But he needed to punch the millipede off. He turned to find that the line had left him behind and Barten quickly tried to return. Using his dav’s feet to crush any of the smaller types that got in his way.
“Are you okay Barten?” Jamieson asked over comms. “It looked kind of hairy there for a moment.”
“I mean, I’m gunless in the middle of a battlefield. But at least we’ve dealt with enough of them by now that I can’t deal with it.” Having no martial arts training whatsoever, Barten simply brought the arms of his dav up to protect the cockpit and optics. Though even if he did know something like karate, he didn’t think that it would carry over well. The davs were large awkward robots and weren’t as flexible as a human.
Once they were off of the barren earth the type 3s pulled away. “What are they doing now?” Barten asked. The type 3 just stood there, slightly trembling.
“Gather up and continue retreating,” orders came.
Barten moved to comply when the group of type 3s all charged at once. Since he was off to the side he was able to move out of the way. But those in the front rows had it tough at the suddenly renewed onslaught.
Before it was trying to catch the wind with their hands. Only sometimes getting the edge of it. Whatever changed with the type 3s made it like the difference between night and day. They were committing to attacks that rent limbs from the davs. Disabling them without any care for the counterattack. Just so long as they inflict as much as possible.
Barten was able to fall back with the few that made it. The suicide attack of the type 3s had reduced their number to a scant handful. Not that the davs were making out any better. With only a few more in number that the types 3s to continue defending.
“What the hell just happened?” came Commander Gale’s voice over the comms. “Everyone who can hear this, do whatever you can to retreat. Those who are in a downed dav, there is a small plasma pistol under your seats. Blow the cockpit doors open, group up, and try to return to base.”
The group that Barten was with took another step back and the type 3s followed. It was then that Barten noticed that near the type 3s feet was Jamieson’s dav. He must have fallen to their newly viscous onslaught. And given how close he was to the advancing enemy if he was still alive and opened the cockpit at a bad time…
The order was to retreat. And it wasn’t leaving Barten with a good feeling at all. Not when one of his squad mates was right there, at the foot of the enemy. While Smith and the others might still be safe. They could also be in an even worse position than Jamieson. But Jamieson was right there, in sight but out of reach.
Barten missed dodging a spear attack from one of the type 3s and it managed to penetrate his left arm. He used that chance to hit the offending leg with his other dav arm and snap it off. One of the davs behind him took advantage of the situation and shot the stumbling type 3. It staggered from the damage and then down it went. If the enemy can trade with them by putting their bodies on the line, couldn’t they do the same?
The only issue is that the type 3s got wise to Barten’s trick the moment it happened. And when one of the other davs tried the same the type 3 instead committed its other legs to the attack. And the dav was speared by all 4 legs before someone was able to shoot the type 3 off.
As they retreated further and further, they kited the dwindling type 3s away from Jamieson and the downed davs. But the type 3s were better at picking off davs than they were at shooting back. And finally it was Barten’s turn.
He misjudged an attack and dodged when it was a feint. It was the first feint that Barten had noticed. And he wondered just where the hell did they learn such a trick? But the moment that it happened he knew that it was too late. Both of his dav’s legs were lost. And when he landed the optics took a hit and half of his screens were suddenly static.
The landing hit Barten harder than anything he had ever felt before. And it took a few moments before he got over the shock. One moment he was glad for the 15 points he had in Con. the next Barten took a deep breath and tried to deal with the fact that he was behind enemy lines. With who knows how many soldiers. He pulled the pistol out from under the pilot's seat. It was a tiny thing compared to the rifles. Might even have problems damaging beetles. A chill ran down his spine when he thought about how he might fare against a millipede with their speed.
Barten pointed one of the working optics as close as he could to the rest of the retreating davs. There would probably only be one moment to escape. And Barten would need to time it just right if he wanted to get back to Alpha Base. And not get sent over to the object instead.