Invasion Wars 1: Crimes of War (12 page)

“Attention.” He pointed at the launch tubes on the transport’s sides, the hatches to the strike caskets wide open. “Line up at a tube and prepare for launch.”

After the blows they received, the Berserkers obeyed and took a spot in front of a launch tube, setting their cannons and their gear inside before standing at attention. While they did, Ashley arrived. Emich didn’t bother with her, seeing that she was already making her way to the tube closest to her on the right. Getting into his casket, he closed the hatch and strapped himself in, lying down with barely enough room to move his arms. Previously, the strike casket was only used for covert operations, able to land single soldiers quickly and effectively.

Now, they were the only thing that could allow a heavy Beowulf to drop in from the sky without breaking every bone in the soldier’s body.

“Connect your status to Squad 7’s teamlink so I know who is in my squad and still alive. SL is Emich Aumeier and your SIC is…” He waited for the name to appear as his wrist screen filled up with team members. Everyone inside was barely out of bootcamp besides him and one other. “... Sergeant Dracul Goering. I’ll give you a quick recap of the mission. We are to strike into the southern spire of the ETO, Spire Durathro. Our mission is to take out its power production and make it so the troops on the ground don’t get grinded up by the ETO’s defensive measures. Taking out Spire Durathro is vital to this operation. Failure is not an option. Once you are in the objective, regroup on the SL.”

“We can handling it on our own,” one of the Berserkers shouted on the radio.

“Da, we don’t need them. Tell them to go back to mommy.”

Everyone started talking at once, making it impossible to understand anyone.

“Cut the chatter,” Emich shouted through the mass of taunts and jeers. “We are closing in on launch range.”

The red light in the casket kept everything dark, its thick metal casing silencing everything going on outside. Turrets continued to fire upon the razor petals outside, some of them getting through. Clinging onto the transport’s hull, they sliced their way through, spinning in place like a self-propelling sawblade. Directing themselves towards the swirled spire ahead of their flight path, the launch cannons on the sides of the transports swung to the right in unison. Prisms on the south side of the Yggdrasil glowed, the sight of them activating in the distance like stars in water ripples.

The light turned green. Emich felt the sudden tug of the cannon sending him out into the air, followed by the rockets firing up and shaking the casket violently. Now that he was in motion, the light disappeared to have the face screen of the casket show everything outside. The cameras on the casket’s exterior showed nothing but clouds and red lights flying by. Looking up he could see what was happening behind him.

Right when he lifted his head, the transport’s nose was hit with a red salvo head on — its wings folding down as it was split right down the middle. Some of the caskets flew straight into razor petals, being completely covered as they cut their way in. The other transports behind them were sending out their troops as well, the freezing air behind them leaving hundreds of contrails to stream across the sky. The defensive prism fire continued, turning any of the transports or the caskets hit into a ball of flame; raining down molten metal on whatever was down below.

Sporadic beeping told him that squad members were disconnected from the teamlink. Looking away from the aerial battle behind him, Emich took control of his strike casket, seeing that the ETO was coming in close. Fog covered the lower halves of the Yggdrasil’s spires and citadel, like a castle in the clouds made from a segment of earth. There was no telling where the power core of the ETO was located, since each Yggdrasil grows differently, so Emich had to make a guess on where to start. Aiming his casket upwards, he activated its frontal shock drill and risked putting himself deep into enemy lines, at the very top of the spire.

“This is Emich. All units, aim your strike as high as you can.”

Dracul’s voice was the first to respond and the last one Emich wanted to hear. “Negative SL. That would get us all killed. On me, Berserkers. Dive into the fog and take them head on!”

Emich gritted his teeth. “SIC, you are disobeying direct orders. Violation of command will be trialed by force.”

“I’m following orders, you panty waste,” Dracul shot back. “I’m just not follow
your
orders that will get the rest of us killed. On me, Berserkers!”

Dracul’s casket dove into the fog, disappearing from sight. Others followed, even from caskets that weren’t from their transport. With red salvos flying by, Emich couldn’t risk changing directions now that he was so high up. Getting into drill range, he pressed the button on the joystick he used to control the casket. It shook violently, the rockets going into overdrive and its small wings pulling back — turning the casket into a massive bullet.

The tip of the casket hit the ETOs outer wall hard enough to dig deep through the ship’s thick hull. Emich could feel the GCM struggling to fight off the impact, the air wavering inside and making him feel like he was inside of a marching drum. Stopping deep into the wall, the frontal drill carried him through as the screen in front of him showed the nearest cavern was only a few meters in front of him and to the right.

It wasn’t his first time being alone on the battlefield, but it was his first time being alone on the inside of an Yggdrasil. Endless caverns, giant crystals hanging from the ceiling and growing out of the walls, alien plant life that was just as deadly as it was beautiful. Days disappear, time becomes nonexistent. All that matters is staying alive for as long as you can. The chances of coming out of an Yggdrasil was closer to zero than anything else.

Coming out of his casket, Emich fell to the ground, his drilling taking him near the top of the huge cavern. Already with his cannon ready, he fired on a few Niflheim Sleip — large, eight legged creatures that always occupied the deeper parts of an ETO. One of them tried to get a shot off with its tusk lasers, firing two green beams at the descending ERA soldier. Aimed from the hip, the cannon’s red dot sight hopped between creatures in quick succession. Once he landed on the ground on a knee, the Sleip were nothing but shattered remains, their rocky bodies bursting into clumps from the impact of the cannon’s hard hitting round. Checking the area for any more activity, he stood up once he saw the coast was clear.

He could hear laser fire, but not from where he was. “I’m under heavy fire,” Ashley said, over the blasts of her MBC3. “My position is near the SL.”

Emich looked down at his wrist screen, seeing her dot was down the cavern to the left. Keeping his cannon forwards, he ran in that direction. “SL here. I’m the
only
one near your position.”

Ashley kept herself behind a wall, the Niflheim Wotans firing their plasma blasters, sounding exactly like a violent thunderstorm. The bright blue rounds chiseled away at the corner, a big chunk cracking off and hitting Ashley in the shoulder. Stepping to the side to get into cover, she crouched down and fired a few blind shots their way, getting one in the leg, but not taking it out of the fight. It fired from the ground, ignoring the damage done to its shredded leg. Steam hissed from the tip of her barrel, red hot and covering the area around her in hot mist as it cooled down while she reloaded.

“Bollocks. Don’t tell me everyone kicked the bucket already.”

“Nope. Just an Old Blood for a second in command.”

Emich could see the Wotans in front of him, their backs turned and their gunfire focused on a corner. Charging in, he got one in the back, the third shot being the one that tore through its chest to leave a gaping hole in its torso. The one that was prone tried to turn over and look down its body at Emich, a shot tearing the blaster out of its hands and a second shot hitting under its chin and through the top of its short skull. By the time the other two could react from approaching Beowulf, Emich swung his rifle over a Wotan’s head and got it in a lock with the broad side of the weapon. Pulling down and stepping aside, he was able to send the tall alien down on its back.

Bashing the barrel of his cannon while the Wotan tried to fire at him, it let out a grunt and shot up at the ceiling. The round that came out of the cannon at such close range was powerful enough to turn the Wotan’s head into an explosion of purple blood; the remainder of its body leaning back into the small crater it caused in the floor. Ashely got out of cover and moved forward, shooting the arm off of a Wotan and hitting its plasma blaster right in the blue swirl that spun in the middle. Emich shielded his face as the powercore of the blaster blew up, letting out a blue sphere of electrical fire. He hit his back on the wall from the small explosion, being just outside of the sphere’s reach.

The sphere obliterated everything within it, leaving nothing but a clean circling of empty space, the crater in the ground a smooth curve.

Holding himself up with his cannon, Emich pushed off of the wall and groaned, the shock of the blast making his back sore. “Try not to make a habit of that,” he said, coughing from the wind being knocked out of him.

“My apologies.” she held him up to get him moving. “Are you okay, there?”

Emich shrugged himself away from her, not wanting her help. “I’m used to it,” he said in a hushed tone. Reloading, he glanced back at her. “I just don’t want to be
too
used to it.”

Ashley looked down at her wrist screen, pressing on tabs to search the area. “There are a few Beowulfs from squad 34 that landed a level below us.”

Emich kept an eye on the corner, keeping behind the rocky wall. “How does our squad look?”

Ashley swiped on the screen to show a hologram of the spire, made out of a blue grid. She could see the green dots of their few remaining teammates moving quickly up the sloped path that circled the spire’s interior. “Looks like they are doing a dandy job clearing out the place.”

Turning on his COM unit to listen, Dracul could be heard shouting orders, the hollering of Berserkers making it a jumbled mess. “Sounds like they’re having all of the fun down there.”

“You seemed bothered by it,” Ashley stated.

“I just hate being looked down upon, is all. That Old Blood would rather waste everyone’s supplies on taking out the Niflheim one by one instead of taking out the power core first. Once all of their ammo is used up, all they have left are their Saebos and their fists, which don’t match up well against plasma blasters and aesirium hide.”

Ashley scoffed. “Well, what do you expect? Berserkers are trained to live in battle and Old Bloods are born in search of it. I read the Niflheim are both, a physical embodiment of war, sent to us to punish us for our self-destructive ways.”

“Where the hell did you read that?”

Ashley hesitated, walking by him to lead the way. “Nowhere. I meant I think it that way myself. It’s all just part of my silly little imagination.”

Emich moved up to jog past her, taking point as they made their way to the lower levels of the Durathro Spire.

After a few skirmishes with small groups of Sliep and another pack of Wotan, they ended up near the middle of the spire, most of the Niflheim forces fighting the teams that struck down below. Packed together like a mighty fist, they were met with only a small amount of resistance. Outside of the Yggdrasil, the Merrow troops were slowly making their way up the mountain side, taking on the Niflheim between the trees, scattered about in small firefights and melee brawls. Frickas leaped from branch to branch, showering down yellow dots on the soldiers below. The ones that were spotted were shot out of the tree or had the trunk sliced in half with stray cannon fire.

Emich and Ashley veered around the corner of a wide opening, four crystal bridges connecting a large platform in the center of an area that took up most of the Durathro Spire’s inside. Everything inside was blue, the crystal surface glowing and pulsing with energy. Huge wires and tubes connected to the platform, some looped around the bridge they walked on, having to be climbed over. They came across an area that resembled a laboratory, filled with strange machines and unknown materials in crystal holders. The roof above had a perfect square cut out of the middle, a pointed spire charged with blue electricity buzzing loudly.

“You think that thing is a defense system?” Ashley asked, keeping her gun trained on the upside down spire after they got over the massive cable that blocked their path.

“If it was, it’s been doing a terrible job so far. I think it has something to do with that thing over there.”

Emich pointed at a pedestal located in the very center of the platform, a liquid orb floating above it. Something was inside the orb, fluid coursing around in a perfect circle as it bobbed up and down from whatever strange force kept it in the air. Symbols and swirls covered the machinery that continued to spin and glow, one of them near Emich boiling a purple fluid that moved through a crystal pipe into another machine. There was a strong pressure near the pedestal, the quiet sound of a gentle hum. The two of them checked down the other bridges, still sensing no activity.

“Do you think this is the power core?” Emich asked, confused.

Ashley looked up at the spire above them, small blue flakes known as aurora ice gently falling around the pedestal, hiding against the same colored crystal. “This thing is too small to be a power core. But I think I know what this is…”

Emich lowered his cannon, looking over at her in concern. “What is it then?”

Her ecstatic smile was hidden behind her helmet. Still, she couldn’t contain the escalating emotion in her voice. “It’s a relic! A special artifact created by Niflheim. This Durathro must hold one of the shrines I read about.”

He faced her, grabbing her arm to get her attention. “Hey, there’s something you are not telling me here. Where did you get all of this information?”

Even with her SL tugging at her, Ashley’s eyes danced back and forth, unable to look away from the pedestal. “The G-data. I was able to find a fragment of it on the deep web.”