System log: The Bunker, Site 3
Solar Calendar: Unknown, 2???
Current status: Active
Log 5
The humans seemed prepared, Gamma couldn’t help but note, though the grim expressions on their faces didn’t seem to indicate much confidence. Hank with his rifle and forcibly patched leg remained behind the column, watching through his scope for the enemy. The boss, Dina, Sloan, Ryan, and the two un-named men all moved quickly to set up defensible positions using whatever they could find in the area; in this case mostly old tables and chairs. With the ease of a practiced puzzle solver, those seemingly random pieces of refuse were stacked, interlocked, and overlapped into two temporary barriers the group split evenly to hide behind.
Interestingly, it appeared that weapons were something possessed inconsistently across the group. In the first group, the boss and Sloan each pulled out small, round, metal devices, three each, with buttons on the top, while Ryan set up some kind of metal slingshot. In the second group, Dina wielded a modern-looking metal and plastic composite crossbow with heavy metal bolts, and the two un-named men extended collapsable metal spears on either side of her. Everyone appeared to be at least familiar with what they had, but the mix gave Gamma the impression that these Roadrunners tried to avoid conflict. How rare were guns nowadays, or was there a reason to avoid using guns similar to signal usage? Gamma suspected the latter given the strange alien machine’s sensitivity to sounds.
“Anything Hank?” the boss called out.
“Not yet,” the older man answered calmly, eye still watching through the scope. “Sounded like they were a little ways off, but at full speed they won’t take long to get here.”
“What the hell are these bugs boss?” Ryan asked tensely as he finished securing the slingshot to the ground. “I’ve never seen a human-sized bug before. Hell, I didn’t even know they came in that size. When the heck did you guys encounter them?”
“Long story,” Hank clicked his tongue, “but it’s been a very long while. Thank the stars we only had to deal with stragglers chasing a diver group we encountered, nasty things.”
“We don’t see them or others like them because normally we avoid forbidden areas,” the boss explained darkly. “Like I mentioned this morning, past zone 12 zone was a major battlefield, and I would have avoided it if that worm hadn’t chased us in. This whole crater is one large ancient battlefield graveyard, and here the dead actually do roll over in their graves if disturbed.”
“You mean, like if a giant worm lights up most of the area with thermal-grade fireworks?” Sloan asked sarcastically. “Great. How many should we expect sir?”
“How’s the chassis Hank?” the boss asked first.
“Looked scuffed and dusty,” the older man answered. “Signs of rust on the inside. Probably running on whatever solar it picked up.”
“Then we have some luck,” the boss murmurer before speaking up. “Runners, listen up. Stalkers are best at stealth kills and scouting, and if that fails, they resort to charging straight in using shock and awe. They also each operate with isolated CPUs, so they can’t be hacked but also can’t communicate wirelessly. They communicate with high-pitched noise, which humans normally can’t hear unless stealth is no longer required. They’re made to kill humans, but need a hive to recharge and get fixed since their batteries are crap.”
“What much can they take before going down?” Dina called over questioningly.
“Any bullet can pierce them,” their boss explained. “They have light armor that weakens with time and exposure. EMP grenades will take them out, as will light kinetics such as your crossbow. Even a sword or spear will pierce with an exo-suit’s help. They have a secondary CPU, so headshots may or may not disable them. Torso shots are the best option.”
“How many a swarm?” Dina then asked.
“Apparently, during the war a hive could support upwards of 5000 each,” came the boss’ grim answer. “With each squad able to hold up to 50 units, with more if led by a variant type. As for how many we should be expecting, anywhere from nine up. Depends on a lot of things, but rust implies they’ve been in the sand. Even if there are 50, their combat effectiveness should be down by at least 40%.”
No one appeared happy to hear that. Despite Gamma having learned many new things due to the situation, the program also couldn’t have called these circumstances ideal. More like, statistically demoralizing given the available arms at the Roadrunner’s disposal. Privately, it had already summoned the most construction drones it could to fend its core, a mere ten not meant for combat conditions. They were unfortunately Gamma’s last line of defense.
“They’re coming,” Hank suddenly announced, his stance tensing up in preparation for the rifle’s recoil. He also moved in front of the pillar to use it as support for his left side. “Definitely a swarm. The entrance is congesting them!”
“Take out as many as you can in the hallway,” the boss ordered. “Force them through a narrower gap; pile them up!”
Hank obeyed, the three-round burst of his rifle flashing repeatedly into the darkness, momentarily sparking light at the end of the tunnel as metal struck metal. He worked his way down through two more mags before slowly walking back to the defense line with each burst. Upon loading his fourth mag and reaching the defensive line, the stalkers finally burst from the hallway into the lobby. They shrilled and squeaked as their head wobbled from side to side in search for targets.
“Launch!” the boss ordered, and Ryan released the slingshot loaded with one of the metal orbs after pressing the button. Sloan and the boss helped reload the large slingshot as the metal orb smashed through the first stalker’s body and detonated in an electric cloud within the entrance hallway. Metallic machines fizzled and collapsed from the EMP wave cloud, though still more pushed through their fallen comrades into the lobby.
“Launch!” the boss again ordered, and even more stalkers fell even as several managed to break in and avoid the cloud of EMP. Hank’s rifle and Dina’s crossbow now were unleashed on the stragglers that made it through, both putting down alien war machines rhythmically. The first group didn’t pause as they reloaded the slingshot and released another EMP that brought down more bots, and the hallway was now becoming tight with downed bots.
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“I’m counting 20 down boss,” Sloan reported.
“More incoming,” Hank shouted.
“Twins, your turn! Go now,” the boss then ordered, and the two previously unnamed men, who were apparently twins, dashed to the doorway from behind their cover with spears out. Hank and Dina both covered the duo as the spearmen reached their destination. At the hallway exit, the twins stabbed through the open space into the hallway, their spears piercing through stalkers blocked by their fallen brethren’s bodies thanks to the strength and speed boost provided by their exo-suits. In and out, in and out, the duo continued until something caught their eye in the hall.
“Boss, there’s a big one!” One of the twins shouted quickly. “It’s, it’s charging!”
“Get out of the way!” the boss ordered. The twins quickly dived away from the doorway, and Ryan launched another EMP grenade that smashed into the hallway and exploded in an electrical cloud. There was a momentary pause as the humans waited for any signs of life, and then the hallway exploded outwards in a wave of metal parts and bodies.
“Take cover!” the boss shouted as fallen stalker bodies was violently expelled into the lobby, resulting in metal and plastic chassis’ flying in every direction, smashing through storefront glass, ornamental decorations, and old furniture. The chaos didn’t last long, and after a few moments the humans all peaked around to see what had caused the explosion.
Through a settling cloud of debris, a smoke cloud faded from the rearend of a strange metal battering ram. With the sound of shearing metal, the form slowly shifted and transformed into a taller, thicker, and more dangerous looking stalker. By Gamma’s estimates, this stalker type appeared to be far better armored and more dangerous than its smaller brethren, even if patches of its casing were missing and with even more obvious signs of rust visible within the chassis. The shift was clearly forced, as more metal armor was forced off the body as it morphed.
“It’s a stalker brute,” the boss shouted in warning. “Bastard is built to endure enemy fire and destroy defensive emplacements!”
The twins, still closest to the machine, scrambled up and attacked with loud war cries. They aimed for the gaps in the armor, piercing through metallic muscle strands, but doing little visible damage. One of them managed to pierce something that let out hiss, and barely managed to dodge an arm blow so fast the very air seemed to crackle for a moment.
“Twins, get back!” the boss ordered. “That thing may look like it has mantis arms, but it’s built like a peacock mantis shrimp! You’ve done enough!”
The two spear wielders didn’t argue and scrambled to get away from the stalker brute, which appeared to need several more moments to finish its transition. As the two ran back to the defense line, however, several of the stalkers that had been blown in started to stir around them.
“Boss, some of these aren’t dead!” one of the twins warned as they stabbed through a stalker without slowing down.
“On our flank!” Dina also warned as she put down another stalker that had crashed into one of the cots, quickly reloading and knocking the head off another that had begun twitching off a broken table. As she turned her attention away, Dina didn’t notice the stalker’s body flip over and leap at her without its head. She turned just in time to see the gleam of its sharp arms, and hear the bang as the boss to punched through its chest with a brass-knuckled, exo-suit hand. He let out a deep huff as he cracked his neck.
“Don’t assume headshots will put them down,” he reminded everyone. “Ryan, Sloan, you two focus on hitting the brute with our last two nades. I’ll cover Dina and Hank. You two both help Jim and Tim make it back!”
“Yes sir!” everyone shouted in affirmation.
Gamma noted the way the group quickly and easily followed their leader’s command without any hesitation. It spoke well of the group’s cohesion and the boss’ leadership skills. It was unfortunate that leadership without sufficient means pales in comparison to overwhelming force.
With a hum, the brute finished its transition and came online. It let out deeper stalker shrills and hums as its head cocked around and scanned the area. When its head focused on the Roadrunners, it began stomping toward the defenders. Ryan unleashed the slingshot, and the larger stalker was forced to pause as the impact and electrical cloud slammed into it. The was a moment of silence as the cloud dissipated, revealing a large dent in the brute’s chest. The stalker brute shifted its arms in front of its chest and continued momentarily, deep chittering shrills sounding almost like laughter.
“Boss,” Sloan said in warning.
“I see it,” the boss growled, punching through another stalker. “Hank, aim for the gaps in the joints. That rust should have weakened something.”
Hank obeyed, aiming and firing at each of the exposed joints, but all he managed to make were sparks. Before anyone said anything else, a crossbow bolt shot by Dina penetrated part of the machine’s knee. The brute paused only for a moment to assess the obstruction interfering with its ability to walk, but continued moving at a slightly slowly pace a moment later, the bolt audibly snapping after only three steps.
“Last round loaded boss!” Ryan announced from the slingshot. “Do we fire?”
“Hold,” the boss warned. “We only get one shot, and it has to penetrate the armor. Those arms are in the way though, damn.” The man eyed the armor gaps carefully. “Hank, can you focus on the shoulders?”
“I need a better angle,” Hank grunted as he reloaded. “And I only have two mags left.”
“Do it,” the boss ordered. “Twins, cover Hank and keep out of the range of its arms. They can hyper extend, but only in the direction their facing.”
The spear duo, still trying to make it back to the others, didn’t hesitate. With battle cries, the two turned and dived at the brute, each spearing aiming for an armor gap.
The brute, pausing for a moment to assess the attack, turned to the right. The twin on the right, seeing the motion, dropped to the floor just in time as the machine’s peacock mantis arm exploded the very air above him. The other twin stabbed deep into the brute’s torso, only to be sent flying back as the machine turned 180 degrees and whacked him. The right twin rolled off the ground and sank his spear into the distracted brute’s arm. The blow caused the arm to accidently lash out, both sending the final twin flying and destroying part of the brute’s other arm.
Hank, who’d been stumbling into a better position, unloaded on the machine now, his bullets slamming into the undamaged arm’s shoulder connection. Sparks flew as metal struck metal, only for the repeated onslaught to finally causing metal strands to begin snapping. The brute whirled around to try and avoid the attack, but the sudden jarring motion only served to complete the severing of its shoulder. The metal arm fell to the ground with a sickening bang, and the stalker brute was left momentarily fumbling as it attempted to adjust its center of gravity.
The slamming of the EMP grenade into the center of the brute’s chassis came before the machine had a chance to adjust itself. With an explosion of a crackling electrical cloud, the brute ceased it’s deep shrilling and collapsed to the ground, no longer a threat.
The lobby was silent as the humans took a moment to gather themselves.
“Screw those bugs, we got them!” Ryan shouted happily, his fist pumped into the air. The tension broken; Gamma watched as the group of humans all visibly relaxed in relief. Even the boss let out a smile as Sloan and Dina fist-bumped, the twins cheered from where they’d landed, and Hank turned to walk back to the camp.
Gamma, who could process things so much faster than any human, saw the threat first.
As the boss walked out from behind the defensive line to help Hank, he didn’t see the collapsed stalker hidden from his line of sight by a concrete divider. The program saw the machine’s head twitch, radars turning slowly as it focused on the sound of the humans approaching its position. Everything happened int seconds.
The boss reached out to embrace Hank several steps away. Hank saw the stalker move out of the corner of his eye. The older man threw his gun out and used its reach to push the boss out of the way of the attack, and then fired awkwardly at the stalker. Unable to control the gun extended in his grasp, he only took out the machine’s head. He couldn’t turn or move out of the way fast enough to avoid the machine’s claw arm sinking into his belly. As the two collapsed to the ground, the stalker raised its other arm to strike, only for brass-knuckled fist to smash through its own torso.
“Hank! HANK!”