If my fingers appeared to pluck the half spent cig from the offered hand with the ease and calm of a veteran soldier, it was entirely the fault of the armor. Tiny nanobots raced through my newly issued Graviton gauntlet, stabilizing sharp motions, large or small. Considering that the shakes had set in five minutes earlier, I'd say the suit was up for promotion. If it could keep its occupant from losing any major organs via fire, laser beams or a good old-fashioned pounding, I would even forgive the hot pink leggings for giving me the nickname...
"HOTPANTS! Does this look like Alia Das to you? Get to the line! Move it commando!"
Commando. I should be enjoying the promotion, except that it happened when I delivered a sealed message from the higher ups apparently saying that this base was about to be assaulted by the Bane and I was all the backup they could spare. I hadn't even had time to repaint the damn leggings. I took a deep drag from the cig as I made my way to the center line of sand bags. Brownish yellow clouds barked from my mouth as I pushed the cig back towards Gunny.
"Like it eh? Sarge calls it Trass. Treeback Ass Grass, get it?"
Gunny was an idiot, but he was the only medic here so I managed a smile that didn't quite reach my eyes. I concentrated on securing my helmet and running basic diagnostic tests for the fourth or fifth time. Anything that would distract me from the smell of ozone and blood. Two waves of aliens since I arrived this morning had left the perimeter lined with bodies. More theirs than ours, but they had more to spare. And now they poured all the firepower they had into the lone force field that separated them from us.
I called up the base's network to display the Field's integrity rating on my HUD. Thirty-three percent. Frig. Maybe five minutes until the sparks fly and the alien parade comes marching in. I knelt down behind the wall of sand bags and placed my cartridges within easy reach. Gunny and me had center line. We'd be the first thing they saw when the field shorted out. Good news was that there was only one way in, which meant that I wouldn't have to worry about watching my back. Bad news was that there would be more enemies piling through the gate than I had ammo to spend on.
"Wish we still had those turrets. What the hell happened to them? I've seen better AI in a game of Pong. Remember Pong? Now look at us, state-of-the-art walking nuclear arsenals!"
I let him talk; every medic I'd met rambled on like that. They'd tell you how the synth-eggs tasted better yesterday while they reattached a limb. Truth is, I wished we still had those turrets too. A swarm of warnets flew too close and set the turrets off just as the first wave approached. The Bane were able to get close enough to take out both forward turrets before tech support could reset the targeting opticals. Now two metal husks smoked low level radiation like dying distress signals. I wasn't one for omens, but frig.
An icon blinked in the corner of my eye alerting me to incoming orders. I signaled it to full display. Orders said to empty EMP rounds into the center of the crowd until they got within 30 meters, then ditch the launcher and target caregivers and shield drones respectively with the machine gun. Sounded simple enough, but could be over in less than a minute if things went sour. If I had to retreat further, I'd have to make my way around the foot thick wall behind me that protected the waypoint transporter. In other words, no clear escape route.
The blue field crackled with a pop that left everyone's bio-monitors ringing. Display said it was down to twelve percent. I picked up the launcher and settled it on my shoulders; it wouldn't be long now. Next to the gate were two honest-to-god Grenadiers. They stood just out of view of the enemy and handled what looked like propellant guns. Flamethrowers if I had my guess. They didn't move, didn't twitch, just waited to hit the uglies from each side when they swarmed in. Not a friggin' pink piece on their laser pocked gear.
Sarge's voice, the defensive coordinator of this tin can, crackled to life in my helmet's comlink.
"Listen up soldiers, in less then a minute all hell's breaking loose and we're going to be the ones giving it. You lived this long because men like you have kept this fort from falling and in so doing, kept the enemy from having the Palisades. You thought your tour in Divide was bad? Lose this battle and Divide will be like this every day. Now lock and load men, we're gonna show these bastards that we plan to keep living. Let's welcome them to FORT DEW!"
And just like that, as if Sarge had planned it on cue, the field flickered off.
Author: Noth
Second Place Winner: Fort Dew Fan Fiction Contest