Alien War Trilogy 1: Hoplite

by Isaac Hooke

“Facehopper and the others are dug in fairly well,” Rade said. “I don’t think they’ll have any problem repelling them.”

  “Neither do I,” Tahoe agreed.

  Rade wrapped his metal arms around the bole and began the climb down. “Let’s move out, people!”

  nineteen

  Rade elected to take a different path through the jungle as they continued the return. It would make sense for the enemy to leave sentries hidden along the previous route, so he chose a course that diverged to the southwest before heading due west once more.

  He had TJ redeploy the HS3s and Centurions into a cigar shape around them, and then ordered the Hoplite squad to advance in single file. The going proved difficult once more, since the mechs were breaking a fresh track through the jungle.

  “I’m receiving comm pings,” Fret said. “We’re at the extreme range of communication with Squad A.”

  “Chief,” Rade tried. “You there? Chief?”

  “I... you,” the chief’s warping voice returned. “Sit-rep if... please.”

  “We’ve successfully retrieved Lieutenant Vicks and we’re on our way to Gray Gate,” Rade sent. “No casualties sustained.”

  “Say again?” the chief transmitted.

  Rade repeated himself.

  “Excellent news,” Chief Facehopper returned. “I... forward to... full debriefing... return. We... an assault here ourselves... resilient little blokes. No casualties... either.”

  Rade continued the march. The blue dots of Squad A had returned to his overhead map. According to HUD, Gray Gate was twenty klicks away. That meant there was only sixteen more klicks of jungle left.

  When the squad had plodded forward another five klicks, Facehopper’s voice came once more over the line. The signal reception was better, but while no words were dropped, severe warping still affected most syllables.

  “Be advised, Rage,” Facehopper sent. “You have an hour before sunrise.”

  “Say again?” Rade replied. “An hour before sunrise?”

  “That is correct,” the chief transmitted.

  “We’re not going to make it out of this jungle before morning,” Fret said, the dread obvious in his tone.

  “Why does that matter?” Manic asked.

  “Didn’t someone theorize the hammerheads only attack during the day?” Fret replied.

  “So?” Keelhaul said. “We’ll kick their asses.”

  “Kind of hard for you to do that, Hop,” Manic joked. “With your one foot and all. You’ll fall down.”

  “Let’s pick up the pace, people,” Rade said. He didn’t entirely share Keelhaul’s enthusiasm, nor Manic’s nervous merriment.

  Unfortunately, when they tried to move faster, that only caused the autopilots on the mechs to trip up, and the squad members found themselves falling more often than not. Keelhaul most of all. Rade finally ordered him to accept assistance from Manic, but that didn’t prevent the others from tripping. Rade was forced to return to their previous speed.

  “We’re not going to make it out in time,” Fret said.

  The jungle brightened around them as the advance continued. Rade switched to the visual spectrum when the sunlight began to lance down through small gaps in the canopy. It was good to see color again, even if the tones were a little disturbing. White trunks. Purple leaves and ferns. The occasional orange shrub. Well, that was what triple strands of DNA would do for you.

  “Who was it that said we wouldn’t last until morning?” Tahoe said.

  “No one,” Manic replied. “All in your imagination, Cyclone.”

  “Let’s maintain radio silence, people,” Rade transmitted.

  They marched onward for several moments.

  And then...

  “Wait, stop,” Fret said. “Do you hear that?”

  Rade halted. “Hear what?”

  “That rumbling,” Fret said.

  Rade listened. He thought he could hear a distant rumbling sound.

  “I am detecting a slight seismic disturbance emanating from the jungle floor,” Smith intoned. “It is growing in intensity.”

  The AI was right, because Rade soon felt it as the inner actuators of the cockpit transmitted the vibrations from the Hoplite’s legs to his own.

  “Aft HS3s are reporting incoming hammerheads,” TJ announced.

  Rade glanced at the overhead map. Red dots were appearing en masse behind them as fast as the rearmost scouts could pick them up.

  “Into the trees, people!” Rade said. “You know the routine. TJ, get the combat robots and HS3s up there!”

  Rade chose a suitable hide for himself in the upper boughs of the canopy; he sat against the thick trunk, facing away from the incoming hammerheads. He would be exposed to any creatures that passed his spot and decided to look up and back, but with the camouflage the mech applied to the external hull, blending him in with the bark, he doubted that would be a problem.

  Unless of course they could see the thermal spectrum.

  As usual, Keelhaul was last to find a spot, and finally out of frustration he used his jumpjets to expedite the process.

  The rumbling continued to increase after they had all taken their places, until it became an all-out thunder. Rade watched from his hide as the squealing hordes of hammerheads raced through the foliage below. There were literally hundreds of them, if not thousands.

  A louder roar came then, piercing the background noise. One of the hammerheads had halted. A large thing whose bony, spiked crest was at least twice the size of the others. It was looking up into the trees directly at Rade.

  Nearby hammerheads began to slow down, and eventually stopped. They followed the gaze of the big one.

  It roared again, baring its teeth in a snarl. It shoved its way forward through the ranks, spreading its arms, and advanced with a posture that could best be described as stalking. Others cleared from its path, moving aside to let the beast approach the base of Rade’s tree.

  It began climbing.

  Guess they can see thermals after all.

  Others swarmed the trunk and scaled the bole after the big one.

  “Shit.” Rade leaned over the side and aimed at the large one. Before he could fire, it crawled around to the other side of the bole. He launched two frags toward the base of the tree anyway, blowing the other incoming hammerheads apart.

  Rade stood up, turning his cobras toward the far side of the trunk. But before he knew what was happening, a clawed hand grabbed the ankle of his Hoplite and pulled him off balance.

  He fell from the branch.

  He plunged the long distance to the forest floor with the hammerhead hanging onto him. He struck multiple branches on the way down, and bounced off the sturdier boughs. Meanwhile Rade kicked at the beast, trying to get it off him. The hammerhead’s spiked tail shot upward and impaled his torso. The tip passed into the cockpit, and he could feel the fabric of his jumpsuit compressing in front of his chest.

  “That was a close one,” Rade said.

  “Yes,” Smith said. “A few more millimeters, and your jumpsuit would have been breached.”

  He landed amidst the swarm, and other hammerheads were instantly upon him. They grabbed at his arms and legs, and stretched them outward to their fullest extents. Sharp probosces and claws dented his hull from all sides.

  The sharp tail withdrew from his torso, and then the large hammerhead was on top of him. It continued the assault, biting at the edges of the hole it had made.

  Rade fired his cobra at the hammerhead that was stretching out his right arm, and the creature collapsed. He used the now free hand to pummel the large hammerhead on top of him. He broke away half its proboscis with a solid connect. The squealing creature retreated, only to be replaced by another, if smaller, hammerhead.

  He wanted to use the cobra in his left arm, but he couldn’t rotate the grenade launcher there off the mount, as one of the beasts still had that arm pinned. And he didn’t dare launch a grenade at such close range. He started to turn his torso, intending to
bash the thing away with his free arm...

  When another hammerhead grabbed his right arm and pinned it down.

  He couldn’t break free.

  Plumes of smoke abruptly rose from the bodies of the creatures restraining him.

  The other Hoplites were joining the fray, firing their lasers from their hides. His body was no longer restrained by the muscle of living organisms, but the deadweight of corpses. He broke free of them and scrambled to his feet.

  Frags and electromagnetics detonated nearby, taking out droves of the creatures and driving the rest away from Rade, granting him a much-needed respite.

  “Rage, what’s going on over there?” Facehopper sent.

  “We’re under attack, Chief,” Rade returned.

  Nearby hammerheads squealed. They were gazing up into the canopy. Then they began climbing the trees the other Hoplites used as hides.

  Rade fired indiscriminately as his lasers recharged, trying to help his companions, but he was soon overrun, and he fought with his back to a thick tree. He bashed mostly, and fired his cobras whenever they reached half charge, wanting to preserve his grenades as much as possible.

  Other Hoplites were dragged from their perches around him as the hammerheads took to the trees. Rade continued to fight, directing some of his cobras toward any of his team members that seemed like they were in trouble. The hordes of hammerheads came in relentlessly.

  Soon there were two distinct groups of Hoplites fighting with their backs to two separate trees.

  Rade, Tahoe, and Skullcracker formed the first group.

  Manic, Keelhaul, Fret, and TJ composed the second.

  “Do you want the Centurions to fire from their hiding places in the trees?” TJ asked at some point.

  “No,” Rade said. “They’ll just be spotted, and we’ll lose them.”

  The hammerheads continued to come in relentless waves, lining up for their turn to battle the Hoplites, and to die. A wall of dead formed around both groups, but the creatures in behind merely tossed the bodies aside, clearing the way for the next wave as they themselves were either shot or pounded down.

  “Both of my lasers just overheated,” Tahoe said. “Looks like I’ll be bashing for a while.”

  Rade’s cobras shut off as well, and he deployed the shield in his left arm while utilizing his right arm as a club.

  “Incendiaries would have probably proven useful right about now,” Manic said. “Remind me to talk to the genius who thought that provisioning mechs without flame throwers was a good idea.”

  Rade knew they couldn’t keep up that defense for much longer. Eventually the mechs would begin to fail due to sheer wear and tear, and because of damage inflicted by the enemy. Or one of the Hoplites would commit a fatal mistake.

  He had lived through no-win situations before, but never anything quite like this. There was literally no way out.

  I’ve lost my squad.

  He bashed aside another hammerhead.

  No. There’s always a way out.

  Beside him, Tahoe fired his jumpjets and swung both arms upward to intercept a hammerhead that leaped down at him from the trees. Tahoe’s mech struck with such force that he instantly decapitated the thing.

  Momentarily transfixed, Rade watched the lopped off head fly upwards: it passed through the javelins of light that pierced the canopy. He followed those pillars of sunlight to their sources in the upper boughs, and he had a sudden idea.

  twenty

  Rade aimed a frag toward the canopy and fired, blowing away half of the branches that blocked the way. He launched another, clearing the way entirely so that a wide swathe of sunlight streamed down from above.

  “On me, people!” He activated his jumpjets and aimed for the opening. Without branches to snag him, he rose uncontested, and in moments he was through.

  The ocean of purple trees stretched before him, their upper boughs seeming an infinite sea.

  He thrusted again, keeping himself airborne while advancing away from the opening.

  Behind him other mechs emerged in turn. Tahoe, Skullcracker. Keelhaul, Fret. Manic, TJ.

  “Let’s see if we can put some distance between ourselves and these hammerheads,” Rade said, thrusting forward while maintaining his height.

  Before he had gone five meters, two hammerheads burst through the purple canopy below and dragged him under. He fell, bouncing hard on the thick branches along the way, until he landed with a resounding thud. The vibration traveled up into his cockpit, momentarily stunning him, the momentary taste of freedom but a memory.

  The hammerhead swarm was on him an instant later. Rade got up before they could pin him, and began bashing away.

  Bogged down by the creatures, other mechs plunged through the trees in a similar manner.

  “So much for that great idea,” TJ muttered over the comm.

  Rade joined up with the others, and soon the Hoplites were right back where they had started, fighting with their backs to the white trunks. Except they battled in three groups instead of two.

  Rade fought on, feeling doomed. Exhaustion was setting in, but he refused to allow his autopilot to take over. Not yet.

  “I’m down!” Keelhaul said.

  On the overhead map, Keelhaul’s dot quickly moved eastward. Rade zoomed in and spotted him. He was carried by four hammerheads. Rade shot one of them with his laser, but had to bring his focus back to the combat at hand when another hammerhead loudly struck his hull.

  He defeated his latest foe, and when he returned his attention to Keelhaul, the MOTH was gone, swallowed by the jungle. His blue dot continued to move away on the map.

  “I’m going to eject!” Keelhaul said.

  “No wait!” Rade said. He worried that the hammerheads would tear him apart if he did that.

  “Scratch that,” Keelhaul said over the comm. “I can’t. Nothing is responding. They’ve killed my AI!”

  “We’re coming for you,” Rade said. “Come on people, we move east. After Keelhaul!”

  The three individual groups of Hoplites advanced from the trees that covered their aft quarters, and instead formed a single unit, fighting back to back. They made their way eastward through the swarm, but progress was extremely slow. Keelhaul continued to slip away from them.

  “Too many of them!” Tahoe said. “We won’t reach him in time, not like this!”

  Keelhaul’s voice came over the comm. “Forget about me. Save yourselves.”

  “That’s not an option,” Rade said. To the others: “We have to find a way to spook them.”

  “Grenades?” Skullcracker suggested.

  “They don’t seem afraid of grenades,” Rade responded as he fought. “We’ll blow up a few of them, sure, but more will simply rush forward to take their places. In the end, it’ll be a waste. We need something more shock and awe.”

  Rade remembered Manic’s earlier comment regarding incendiaries, and found himself wishing he indeed had a flame thrower.

  “I’ve got nothing,” Fret sent.

  “Me neither,” Manic added.

  They both sounded exhausted.

  Rade battled for all he was worth. He dodged a spiked tail, caught the beast by the torso, and swung it around to bash the next foe. He fired his laser at point blank range, tearing through the torsos of two closely spaced hammerheads.

  A distant part of his mind reviewed the failed jumpjet plan. He felt that there was something obvious he was missing, something that would have made the plan succeed. Maybe if he had ordered the Hoplites to jump higher... no, that would have merely made them exhaust their fuel faster.

  Fuel...

  And then he had it.

  “Got an idea,” Rade said over the comm as he dodged a proboscis.

  “Not another one,” TJ retorted.

  “This one is going to work,” Rade said as he bashed another hammerhead aside. “You say this atmosphere is five percent oxygen, Cyclone?”

  “I did say that, at one point,” Tahoe returned.


  “I’m transmitting a pair of waypoints,” Rade said. “Different for each of you. When you reach the first waypoint, open up your fuel lines. Let that fuel spray out as you proceed to the final waypoint. Pour it onto the jungle floor as you cut a swathe through the aliens. And when your tanks empty, turn around and ignite that fuel by whatever means necessary. Frag. Cobra. Whatever it takes.”

  “Should we siphon the fuel from our jumpsuit jetpacks into the mech tanks as well?” Tahoe asked.

  “No,” Rade said. “I want to save that for emergencies.” He completed transmitting the coordinates to the respective mechs. “Maneuver to the starting position, people! And wait for my order!”

  Rade hefted his shield like a battering ram as he drove a wedge through the enemy ranks and moved toward the waypoint he had selected for himself.

  “I’m in place!” Tahoe transmitted.

  The others spoke up in turn, until everyone reported in from their designated waypoints.

  “Can’t... hold them... much longer...” Manic sent.

  “Open up your lines and move to your final waypoints!” Rade said. To his AI: “Smith, crack the pressure release valve on your jetpack. Time to unleash the bug spray!”

  Rade fought his way forward, periodically firing his jumpjets when the swarm became too thick. He kept low to the ground when he jetted, and narrowly avoided the thick branches overhead. He landed quickly each time, not wanting to expend too much of the leaking fuel.

  Three-fourths of the way to his target, a low fuel warning flashed on his HUD. He ignored it, fighting onward. In seconds a new indicator appeared.

  Smith read it aloud: “Fuel levels zero.”

  Rade drilled a hole into a hammerhead with his laser, and shoved the next one aside with his shield. He moved two paces forward, turned around and then launched his last frag. Hammerhead body parts erupted into the air, and the long line of jet fuel he had carved through their ranks ignited like a rapid fuse. The foliage proved relatively flammable, and in moments those flames reached to the height of his mech, forming a wall that spread upward and outward. He was forced to retreat.

  More fires ignited as the other Hoplites exhausted their fuel supplies, and long walls of flames formed in the midst of the horde. One of the HS3s hiding in the treetops updated the overhead map, and Rade saw that a nearly complete pentagram had been burned over an area of three hundred meters square, the five interlinking walls of flame hemming in hundreds of the creatures, and repelling hundreds more. Some of them attempted to dash through the flames and caught fire themselves. Other hammerheads were already alight thanks to fuel that had fallen on them. They flailed about, squealing in pain. Because they were in such close proximity, it was relatively easy for them to rub the flames onto other hammerheads unfortunate enough to be nearby. The effect caused a panicked stampede.