The Forever War Chapter 5

Chapter 5:

The year 2426 of the new time. The cruiser "Black Rain." The "York" system, orbiting the planet "Shigura." Eight hours to zero hour.

The Imperial cruiser "Black Rain" was a medium-sized combat vessel that could accommodate several thousand tons of equipment and personnel. Overall, it was quite self-sufficient, only having to anchor at the station once a year or otherwise resupply. The cruiser was armed with hydrogen torpedoes and rapid-fire laser cannons for close-range combat. It carried fifty landing craft, which carried soldiers directly to a pre-determined attack point. A ship of this class possessed engines that allowed it to move at speeds many times faster than the speed of light.

Its rounded, black silhouette majestically approached Shigura, where it was to drop off soldiers of the Fourth Cohort of the Blood Tigers Chapter. The retrograde thrusters fired flawlessly, and soon the metal colossus was orbiting the orange planet, preparing for its assigned mission.

Sergeant Bob and Private Joshua sat on missile crates in Bay Thirteen, with many people bustling around them. Some were loading missile pods, others were checking the ships' technical condition, and still others were stocking the decks with all sorts of equipment needed for the mission. In short, preparations for the impending attack were in full swing. The final briefing had recently concluded, and both were already preparing for any eventuality that might arise. Their units, positioned by the shuttles and on first alert, awaited orders.

"Why are you frowning so much?" Joshua asked, taking a drag on a homemade cigarette.

It tasted awful, but it might be his last cigarette ever, so he wasn't about to complain.

"Honestly, I don't know. Something just doesn't feel right." "Bob smiled faintly and grabbed a handful of bullets from the pod. "Think about it, from what we know about Khorne soldiers, they love battle and bloodshed. They're also very good at hand-to-hand combat and tactics. So why the obvious mistake of leaving the radar station unprotected?" The sergeant squeezed his hand with the bullets inside until his knuckles turned white. "I'd leave the entire battalion there. Hell, I wouldn't even spare the armored units.

" "Maybe you're overestimating them a bit. They're just a bunch of fanatics who, with a bit of luck, could defeat the settlers," Joshua replied somewhat laconic.

"And I think you're underestimating them, just like our entire command." Bob examined his hand, which was dripping blood. "Our officers don't know that fire burns unless they put their hand in it." He finished, and straightened the hand holding the bloody bullets.

The sergeant again experienced the unpleasant feeling that not everything was as it should be. It was like drinking beer without unscrewing the cap, or shooting the enemy with blanks, blindfolded, and broken fingers. That everything was futile and doomed to failure. No matter what he attempted, no matter how hard he tried, the result would be different from the intended one. The cold grip of fear gripped him, and he had absolutely no desire to fight, or to do anything else. Bob didn't want to die, or rather, he didn't want to shed blood for something that would achieve nothing. He had always longed to die for something important, some noble cause worthy of being written down in the Golden Book for eternity. However, despite his own dreams, he was a soldier above all, and he wasn't about to question the orders of his command. After all, a soldier doesn't choose his own death; he dies wherever his commanders send him. If he's to die, so be it, and it's the Emperor's responsibility to make sure his death isn't in vain.

Joshua didn't even notice Bob's hesitation, and attributed his silence to the sergeant's gloomy disposition, which was often the subject of heated conversations between soldiers after a few beers. Not wanting to break his interlocutor's concentration, he remained silent, as befits a scout while reconnoitering near the enemy.

"Anyway, maybe it has to be this way so that the next ones can win." Bob smiled weakly, but it wasn't sincere, rather forced. "So that our deaths aren't in vain. That's a good thought, isn't it?

" "I don't know what you mean, but if you say that's the case, you're probably right," Joshua agreed, slightly confused by Bob's strange behavior.

The sergeant glanced at the men working on the landing craft, then, noticing their nervous and somewhat furtive movements, said,

"Yes, I'm probably right." That's a good thought... Farewell, Joshua, and remember... That's a good thought, even to the death... even to the death.

Then, bidding farewell to his companion, he went to supervise the technicians' work. Bob believed that if something was to be done well, it had to be done himself.

Joshua, shaking his head, watched the sergeant's wild shouts and elaborate gesticulations.

"And this is supposed to be control, right?" he muttered under his breath.

Despite his dislike for Bob's methods, Joshua had to admit they were remarkably effective. Under the sergeant's peculiar "supervision," the technicians redoubled their efforts and were now working like machines. That is, remarkably efficiently. After a while, bored with the spectacle he had witnessed so often, he retired to his unit, which was just entering Lander Number Five.

The reconnaissance unit consisted of six men, equipped with light reconnaissance armor. While not as durable as other armor, it allowed them to move through hostile territory without making unnecessary noise. This was a fundamental criterion when selecting equipment for this unit. On the left thigh, as with other units, munitions were carried, which were extremely useful in combat and, besides, were also exceptionally tasty. As for weapons, they used Model 24 hand-held shotguns with optical sights. These were effective weapons, but only at long ranges, as the lack of a burst fire option prevented effective close-quarters combat. Joshua quickly gathered his equipment and, along with the other five soldiers, boarded the personnel carrier.

The landing craft was a small unit, capable of carrying up to twenty-five men and their equipment. For defense, it was equipped with 75mm cannons and conventional air-to-surface missiles, which, if necessary, could destroy heavier targets. The ship was piloted by two men: the first pilot and the second, sometimes called a backup, who, after successfully delivering the soldier, would depart for the mothership. General Robert Sztorm had previously issued an order for the landing craft to be operated by one soldier, not two. However, after tragic events, most notably cases of fainting or other factors that eliminated the first pilot, resulting in the loss of entire units without a fight, he withdrew from the project.

Meanwhile, the cruiser Czarny Deszcz reached full combat readiness and began the sequence of opening the airlocks, through which the landing craft would emerge like bees. The docks were swarming with soldiers, assigned to their respective ships. Sergeant Bob stood alone at a monitor mounted in the wall, watching the reconnaissance team that had just been dispatched. Among this team was Joshua, who, after all, had been on reconnaissance. A moment later, the shuttle, observed by the sergeant, vanished into the dense atmosphere of Shigura.

The journey through the gases surrounding the planet was never a pleasant one. First, the entire ship shook violently, then came a moment of calm, but it didn't last long, like the calm before a storm. In the final stages of landing, the unit experienced such turbulence that even a man in the landing compartment could barely touch his face. After these thrills, there was a powerful and violent impact with the ground, signaling the end of the pleasant ride. If, after all this, thirty percent of the soldiers were capable of immediate action, the landing was considered a complete success.

Joshua, strapped tightly into his seat, glanced around the compartment and saw his squadmates. Besides him were John, nicknamed "Long" because of his slim, tall frame. He was a man in his forties who was responsible for communications with the cruiser. Henry, a lucky man, a master of stealth combat and tracking. He could approach almost anyone unnoticed and whisper something in their ear. A cheap frying pan, who boasted of making a delicious and nutritious dinner out of anything alive. And finally, Wymk, who wouldn't have been in any way remarkable if not for the fact that the cloning machine had misspelled his name from Wladzia to Wymk. This was the entire reconnaissance team sent to Shigura to ensure there were no significant enemy forces there. This was standard procedure in the code of combat. After successful surveillance, they were to transmit a coded signal to Black Rain, which would allow the assault units to move into action.

Joshua, feeling the intense shock that nearly ground him back into his seat, noticed John's strange behavior. He was deathly pale, his eyes rolled upward, completely hidden behind his eyelids. His arms and legs twitched convulsively, like a puppet being shaken by an actor. After a moment, large beads of sweat appeared on his forehead and quickly rolled down his brick-red face. He began to mutter something, but over the noise of the ship ploughing through the atmosphere, Joshua couldn't hear a single word. The vital signs, located in the wall of the barge's hull, illuminated red. John's heart rate was extremely high, his blood glucose levels had risen sharply, and his body temperature had dropped to 32 degrees Celsius. Under normal circumstances, a man with such symptoms would be immediately taken to the medical bay, but sitting in the landing bay of a ship preparing to land on a hostile planet, Joshua could only hope, vainly, that his companion would survive until they could withdraw to the cruiser. In John's current state, he was incapable of any meaningful action, such as injecting himself with the drug that could save his life, and the constant turbulence rendered none of the other soldiers useless. All that could be done was pray to the Emperor and passively await developments.

A powerful impact and an end to the shaking signaled the end of the flight, causing Joshua to momentarily lose interest in John. The ramp, with a faint creak of pistons, lowered, and a bright light flooded in, momentarily blinding the soldiers.

When Joshua regained his sight, he noticed that the others had begun to cautiously emerge and form a battle formation around the landing site. John was among them; clearly, his ailments weren't as serious as they appeared. A quick glance at the medical monitors contradicted his good condition. The statistics above his name still glowed red, indicating agony. Not a medic and lacking any solid knowledge of the human body's functioning, Joshua simply shrugged and, unfastening his seatbelt, hurriedly joined the others.

Once outside, he was captivated by the beauty of the landscape before him. They were on a plain covered in bright red grass. In the distance, loomed low hills, sparsely dotted with low trees, upon which sat strange, greenish creatures. They resembled Earth parrots, except they had sharp teeth protruding from their beaks and inch-long talons that gripped thick, fancifully twisted branches. Above it all, a bright pink sky, dotted with thin clouds, hovered.

"Damn, it's hot," Tania said, and began removing the frontal armor plate.

"What are you doing? Have you lost your mind, or have you lost the will to live? This is a hostile planet," Wymk began yelling, gesticulating profusely.

"Calm down, do you see any danger here?" the frying pan replied, continuing its striptease, removing its rear armor and helmet. A moment later, she stood in her combat fatigues, her full armor strewn about at her feet.

"Stop talking, damn it! This isn't a picnic, this is a serious operation." John, call my barge, but quickly. The rest of you, spread out and watch for the enemy." Joshua began issuing orders, and after a moment, the soldiers spread out across the plain, forming a square with him in the center.

The radio operator, reaching for the microphone, tried to contact the ship, which was stationed nearby with its engines running. When he succeeded, he transmitted the station for Joshua.

"Wing Five is waiting for orders. Over," the pilot's voice could be heard, distorted by static.

"This is Squad One. We're clear, we've secured the area. You can return. Over," Joshua replied, watching John carefully.

"Understood, Squad One. Wing Five is departing. Good luck and happy hunting. No reception."

The barge, increasing its engine thrust, rose slowly and began to move away. Slowly at first, then, when it was about two hundred meters above sea level, it activated its afterburners and, rapidly increasing speed, disappeared in a cloud of exhaust gases left by its own exhaust nozzles.

When the roar of the engines subsided, Joshua stood up and, handing the microphone to John, took out his scanner, which had a map of the area and vital data stored on it. He checked his position and instructed the computer to determine the azimuth. It turned out they were three miles from the Radar Station, as the crow flies. There were no major obstacles along the way that might slow them down, so according to estimates, they should arrive there in about two hours. Reviewing his own equipment, he ordered the following through the internal comlink:

"Check equipment and report.

" "John ready, Henry ready, Tania ready, Wymk ready," the individual voices of the squad members chimed in.

"Threat level two. Be alert and quick. Report everything and do not attempt any independent action," Joshua said, hearing the sound of a gun being cocked.

"Okay, we're moving. Heading northeast. Henry in the lead, Tania covering the rear."

After a mile, the landscape slowly began to change. More hills appeared, covered with unusual trees that effectively narrowed the soldiers' field of vision. The reconnaissance team also discovered several new species of animals that bore a striking resemblance to Earth creatures. Besides the fauna and flora, though certainly fascinating, they didn't spot a single enemy soldier. This was a bit odd, considering it wasn't difficult to spot a landing craft landing a few miles from a deep-sounding station, which was designed to detect such objects. Joshua could understand how such a small ship could be missed, but how could a massive cruiser orbiting the planet go unnoticed? Maybe this Chaos isn't as good as its officers so painstakingly portray it to be. If this continued, with a bit of luck, the assault forces would take that accursed structure without a fight. That would be a success. The infamous soldiers of Chaos, the dreaded followers of bloody Khorne, the Cornelites taken without resistance, like civilians.

Joshua was ripped from these pleasant thoughts by Henry's sudden shout:

"DOWN! COVER!

" A deafening explosion followed, throwing Joshua and the rest of the squad, along with clods of earth and shrapnel that drummed ominously on their steel armor, several meters back from where they stood. Before any of them could recover from the painful fall, they heard a woman's scream of agony. Joshua, shaking off the earth and shrapnel like a wet dog, spotted Tania, arching macabrely, with horrific-looking shrapnel protruding from her now-naked body.

"FRYING PAN! FUCKING MONSTER!" – that was all he managed to shout before Tania convulsed for the last time and became motionless.

From her once-red, ragged lips, even redder blood began to flow, slowly seeping into the sand, staining it purple. Joshua watched, mesmerized, like a child staring at his favorite candy, unable to tear himself away.

"Enemies, heading north, eight hundred meters," Wymk's slightly agitated voice could be heard.

"Mechs... mechs," Henry shouted, almost panicked.

"Infantry, probably a whole battalion. Fucking heavy armored personnel carriers," Wymk added to his report.

This information sobered the somewhat numb Joshua, who, trying to control the somewhat chaotic situation and gather concrete data, rose and, taking out his binoculars, surveyed the area.

His eyes met with hell, a fire-breathing dragon, and other fiends in the form of a massive army of Chaos soldiers. Their black and red armor, like fields of grain, covered countless square kilometers before them. There were heavy infantry, armored personnel carriers, a tank battalion, and enormous mechs that needed to be destroyed from orbit. To make matters worse, the three-meter-tall silhouettes of Terminators, armed for close combat, appeared from the east. Their blasphemous banners towered over the future battlefield.

Joshua knew in an instant that they would have to face them, and the thought spurred him into action.

"Henry, Wymka, fire without orders. Try to select officers," he shouted. "John, transmit information about the massive army to headquarters and request reinforcements." After finishing, he joined in the fire.

Looking through the scope of his rifle, he spotted a distinctive figure. Judging by the insignia, he was clearly a prominent officer. With a satisfied smile, he aimed accurately and lightly pulled the trigger. With a jerk of the stock, the target's head twitched, and he then fell backward.

"That's a frying pan for you," he said, continuing to pull the trigger of his rifle for a long time.

Joshua, firing at the enemy, fell into a frenzy that wouldn't let him stop. Empty magazines landed one by one, steam rising from the heated barrel. When he managed to kill the eighth person, he heard John transmitting over the radio to the cruiser,

"This is Squad One. I confirm. No enemy has been detected around the long-range probe station, I repeat, no enemy has been detected. You may send in assault units. Over."

Joshua instantly abandoned all thoughts of further combat and, trying to understand what had just happened, began to stand, searching for the radio operator. A moment later, strange electronic sounds could be heard, signaling the transmission of a coded message confirming the safety of the landing site and authorizing the assault forces to attack.

Disbelieving his ears and not fully grasping the enormity of the tragedy that would surely follow the landing of soldiers who would fall headlong into the trap, Joshua finally found John. He was lying about eight meters south of him, in the process of unloading a grenade.

"John, what the hell are you doing?" he screamed, ignoring the bullets that missed him by millimeters. "John, FUCKING…what are you doing, put that fucking grenade down."

The radio operator, looking deep into Joshua's bloodshot eyes, took out the pin and with a careless movement slowly threw it away.

"JOHN'S NOT HERE! THERE'S ONLY KHORNE!" he said in an unnaturally low voice and placed the grenade in his wide-open mouth.

Joshua watched in horror as something that looked like his companion, but clearly wasn't, slowly closed its mouth. The uneven walls of the grenade were etched on his cheeks. There was something surreal about the whole scene, but it didn't stop it from being real. Then, with a quick movement, he released the safety catches on the remaining two grenades and, holding them in his hands, moved toward the stunned Joshua. Without waiting for certain death, Joshua aimed at John and fired without hesitation, hitting him in the chest. The impact of the round knocked the radio operator back four meters, but otherwise, he wasn't particularly impressed, as he began to stand up after a moment. Unfortunately, the same couldn't be said for the grenades. As if on cue, they detonated, ripping John into tiny pieces that covered the surrounding area in a red rain.

The last image Joshua's eyes registered was a wall of fire rapidly hurtling towards him. As he lost consciousness, he had time to think that at least he wouldn't have to worry about the Terminators, who were inexorably approaching them with their executioner's axes. For some reason it was a pleasant thought, but unfortunately it led him into darkness.