The Forever War Chapter 6

Chapter 6

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

Bob, clad in Terminator armor, tenderly stroking his trusty weapon, stood by landing craft number eight. His thoughts swirled around the drop and its aftermath. Like any sensible man, he feared for his life, but that wasn't the thought that stirred a storm cloud in the form of deep furrows on his forehead. He worried about his friend Joshua, who should have sent a report two hours ago. And so far, he hadn't shown any signs of life. The radio station, two meters to his right, was silent, as if under a spell.

"Drakowicz, speak up, damn it!" Bob drawled slowly, and, taking out a cigarette, lit it.

Blue, acrid smoke rose majestically, obscuring the metal supports of the hangar. The sergeant closed his eyes and exhaled heavily. His mood was drastically worsening with each passing second, and after a moment, unable to contain himself, he began pacing the dock.

"What's wrong with you? Are you lost or something?" He wondered, quietly approaching the radio operator, who was unsuccessfully trying to contact the reconnaissance team.

"Do you have anything?" he asked the slender soldier.

"Nothing yet, Sergeant," he replied, and returned to his work.

"If you find anything, let me know." After speaking, he briskly walked toward the barges.

After hours of confusion and noise caused by the loading and preparations for departure, a dead silence reigned in the hangar. This strangely calm atmosphere was a result of the work being completed. Now, only the soldiers and pilots remained in Dock Thirteen. The latter were once again frantically checking their ships. The officers, as usual, were discussing the already meticulously crafted operation plan, while the privates nervously joked and boasted shyly. Every now and then one soldier or another would check his weapon, shifting from foot to foot.

Ten infantry squads were gathered in the relatively small hangar space, occupying separate sections of the hall. On the far right was the Twelfth Heavy Support Infantry Group, commanded by Duncan Drown. Their merits could be discussed at length; suffice it to mention campaigns such as the Mars Campaign, the Doom System Campaign, and the Red Star Raid. These illustrious names speak for themselves. Next came the Fourteenth Heavy Support Infantry Group, expertly led by Figo Bomn, who gained fame in the famous Battle of the destroyer "Mgła." It was he who single-handedly defeated the dreaded Black Widow, Dania Ermnist, thus shattering the enemy's morale. Thanks to this, the destroyer was captured without significant damage. In the center stood six assault squads, somewhat underestimated given their tenuous position within the Imperial army. In order: the Fourth, Eighth, Sixteenth, and Twenty-Second. They looked a bit enviously at the other formations, but on the battlefield, all quarrels are put aside, and everyone tries to cover their colleagues' rear. To their left were the Terminators, about whom little need be said, as their dominance in all conflicts was unquestionable. Squads two and five were highly experienced soldiers, veterans of various battles. They were commanded by Sergeant Bob, who was currently gazing into the void of space through a monitor screen.

In the hangar was the entire contingent destined for the fight on the planet "Shigura."

The sergeant was jolted from his gloomy thoughts by the radio operator's voice, who had received confirmation from the reconnaissance group.

"Yes, I understand. Clear, no enemy in sight. No reception," he hung up the receiver and called, "Sergeant!

" "I understand. Wait for confirmation," he commanded, and looked around the room.

Everyone was staring at him, awaiting orders. The tension was palpable in the air.

"What are you all looking at, to the barges! We're going to kick some ass!" he yelled, heading towards his squad.

His soldiers quietly, and with a certain seriousness, began to take their places in the vehicles. Upon arrival, he found that most of the troops were ready. The hangar was deserted, only the dropships and the maintenance crew, who were just leaving, were still waiting.

"Okay, emergency level two! Check equipment and report troops!" he ordered over the internal intercom and initiated the armor's pressurization sequence.

A moment later, his helmet slid down onto his head with a metallic clang, obscuring his vision. The visor screen flickered and, a second later, displayed a status report. Finding no problems, he slowly marched to the barge where his soldiers stood.

"This is Duncan, ready," he heard muffled through the microphone. "This is Figo, ready." As if on command, reports about the combat readiness of the remaining units poured in. "

Okay, wait for departure confirmation," he said, and checked his weapon one last time. Its six barrels gleamed impatiently, and the sergeant relished the feats he would perform with them.

"This is the radio operator, positive confirmation! I repeat positive!" a slightly agitated voice could be heard.

"Did you hear that? Positive! We're moving, we're leaving!" he said, closing the shuttle's hatch.

A moment later, faint vibrations from the engines could be felt, and with a soft groan, the ships lifted off and flew out of the cruiser. In orbit, they formed a battle formation and, one by one, began to penetrate Shigura's dense atmosphere.

Bob, like the other soldiers, wasn't particularly fond of the moment of landing. It wasn't surprising, as being shaken like a fruit in a juicer wasn't exactly pleasant. "

We've emerged from the atmosphere. We'll be landing in a minute," he heard the pilot's voice say, and a red light flashed in the landing bay.

"Okay, emergency first! Be sharp and precise. We don't want anyone to accidentally screw up," he said, glancing fondly at the barrels of his subordinates' weapons and their blood-red armor.

Suddenly he heard a loud bang and was momentarily blinded by a bright light.

"What the hell was that!?" he yelled. "Report!

" "Barge number three destroyed! Heavy fire, initiating evasive action," the pilot reported.

"Fire! What fucking fire? There are no enemy forces on this planet.

" "Enemy! Position 34,54,23,78," a nervous voice could be heard. "That's at the landing site."

"AAAaggghhhh..."

"Barge number four destroyed, number six got... by the Emperor, their engines are dead...

" "Damn, land faster, they're firing on us here!" He gave orders and prepared to hit the ground. "Radio operator, send a report on the enemy."

A moment later, strong vibrations and shocks could be felt. The landing ramp clattered to the ground, and bright light flooded the interior. "

Move! Out and fire without orders!" he shouted, and saw an unpleasant prospect.

The flat field surrounding him was lined with several enemy infantry battalions. Furthermore, it was swarming with terminators, who clashed their weapons unpleasantly against black shields. The bitterness Bob had to drink was topped off by the large mechs that carelessly fired at the landing barges. Every now and then, an explosion lit the sky, and a moment later, the burning wreckage of the landing craft crashed to the ground.

"It's a fucking trap!" he shouted, cocking the gun. "Everyone get to me!"

The moment he pulled the trigger, his weapon came alive, spewing countless bullets that began to thin the enemy ranks. Moments later, others followed suit, and a full-scale battle erupted. Unfortunately, despite the surprise of the furious attack, the chaos soldiers quickly recovered and responded with a torrent of lead.

"To me! To me! Duncan, cover the left wing, Figo, take the right and fire," he issued desperate orders, hoping to be understood in the general chaos. "

Understood, I'm executing," a familiar voice replied. "Damn, that's a lot of them!"

The terminator standing next to Bob suddenly staggered and collapsed, smoking. His armor was riddled with holes, and blood was pouring through them. However, the Sergeant had no time to mourn his subordinate's death, as grim black silhouettes were approaching him. They were unmistakable. Their banners fluttered in the wind like an ominous warning.

"AAA...Terminators... fire, lay down a barrage here. Don't let them get close!" he instructed his soldiers, firing. "Light infantry, cover the rear."

The sergeant took careful aim and fired a burst directly at the first of the heavily armored Terminators. His bullets connected, and a moment later, shards of metal were splintering from their black armor. Then the leader, trembling with fear, fell backward and froze.

"One less," he smiled beneath his helmet, taking aim at another.

Explosions were heard everywhere, bullets whizzing past, hitting someone every now and then. The groans of the wounded and dying mingled with the howls of the fighting. Under the merciless fire of the Chaos soldiers, the ranks of the Blood Tigers began to thin at a rapid pace. Even the heroism of the fighting men couldn't save them or tip the scales of victory in their favor.

"Sergeant, we can't hold them off much longer," Duncan shouted over the din of battle. "There are too many of them

!" "Hold your ground, damn it! If they break through, we're done for!" Bob replied.

"We won't let them… aaaaggghhhhh..." Duncan didn't finish.

"Drown! Drown! Fucking hell!" the sergeant raged.

To his left, at the edge of his vision, he saw an explosion that blew his soldiers to pieces.

"Radio operator, send a message to command that the battle is lost," Bob said, and looked around the battlefield.

His weary eyes were filled with the sight of imminent death. They were surrounded, with no chance of support from their friends. The enemy were everywhere, eager to kill his soldiers. Ammunition was running low, and their armor was fit only for repair or scrap. Of the entire company that was sent to this planet, one terminator squad and one light infantry assault unit survived, but suffered heavy casualties.

"Okay, we're retreating. Northeast, infantry covering the rear," he roared in the indicated direction. "Sweep everything before us, no mercy!"

Less than a kilometer away lay a forest ahead of them. If they could only reach it, they would be saved. But to achieve this, they first had to break through the trap they found themselves in. Chaos infantry stood in their path; fortunately, from what he could see, they lacked heavy equipment. His six-barreled weapon was reaping a bloody toll on the lightly armored infantrymen. And like a reaper with a scythe through fields of grain, the weary survivors were pushing through the enemy.

"Okay, we've almost made it. Don't stop!" Sergeant Bob encouraged his charges.

Suddenly, he heard a bang and felt a powerful blow to his back, throwing his nearly ton-sized form forward several meters. When he came to, he found himself lying on the ground, his armor strewn in pieces around him. He glanced back and saw a large crater where his companions had been. Without missing a beat, he rose and instinctively began searching for his weapon.

"Report! Fucking report!" he screamed, but the only response was the whistling of bullets flying past and the sounds of explosions.

At that moment, he realized that no one else had survived. But his survival was little consolation, as the enemies were already approaching. He could hear their heavy footsteps and wild screams.

"Nothing! Good idea..." he said, his throat tight, and he began to laugh hysterically.

He stood up despite the bullets flying everywhere and found the wreckage of his armor's torso lying next to him. He leaned down and pulled a small container from the compartment. It was a high-yield thermonuclear charge, intended to destroy the deep-sounding station.

"You think you've won?! Death will claim its own anyway!" He shouted, unlatching the bomb, then raised his hand above his head and said, "It doesn't matter... but I'll take you with me!" Then he slowly pressed the trigger.