Gears of War: A.E.

[ASGetty ((Zovo))]

And about the wench thing.../facepalms self

I'm just glad the Gears don't refer to their vehicles with feminine pronouns.

"We've got a wench on the APC, she can drag that Junker outta there no problem."

[ASGetty ((Zovo))]

Finished reading this. Again, very much enjoyed. Looking forward to more.

Although, another minor detail that was bugging me. The APC shouldn't fishtail nearly as often as it does. The thing should be at least four wheel drive, which pretty much alleviates that issue.

[tamwyn]

Jul 25, 2010 1:20:22 GMT -5 ASGetty ((Zovo)) said:

Finished reading this. Again, very much enjoyed. Looking forward to more.

Although, another minor detail that was bugging me. The APC shouldn't fishtail nearly as often as it does. The thing should be at least four wheel drive, which pretty much alleviates that issue.

Hmm, well I'm mostly basing the driving physics of it on the Warthog from Halo, because the APC isn't shown much in Gears of War. That thing slides around and it's a jeep, 4x4 and all.

ALSO: New Chapter is almost complete. Might release it early and post it tonight. So...watch this space.

[tamwyn]

Chapter 7: Death’s Frozen Embrace

“We survive as long as we can and protect the people we care about. Dad always did that for us. He was what a Gear stands for, strong and honest in his virtues. He will be missed more than I can possibly set into words. Be at peace, dad. You earned it.”

-Tyler Fais, the last part of a eulogy at his father’s funeral

In the forest, 9 kilometers away from downed Raven;

1150 hours


“How’re you holding up, Ven?” Nyvar asked, his eyes staring into the forest with his gun sweeping back and forth. He was anxious to reunite with his son, but he understood the risks of letting his soldiers tire themselves out before battle.

“I will be fine, my friend. I have faced more hardship than this before.”

“At least let me carry Marov. You need a break,” Nyvar replied.

“Please. This walking tank is bouncing me around so much I feel like I’m going to be sick,” Marov said weakly as Ven slowly laid him on the ground. Nyvar smiled at his friend, glad he was in higher spirits; almost like himself again, grumpy and disapproving.

“The sickness might be coming from your head wound, Sy’. You lost a lot of blood,” Nyvar said, looking over as Naleena and Parker gently helped Ty sit down against a tree, his breath coming in strained gasps. The man had been rattled by the shots he’d had inflicted on him. One of his ribs were cracked from the force of the bullets and a small gash where a slug had grazed him as it went through the armor were the extent of his injuries. However, that was enough to slow the kid down, even with a numbing injection they had stuck in his side.

“Who needs blood, anyway? I’ll just make some more. What happened, by the way? One moment I’m watching a fight erupt and the next I’m being lugged around by Ven the South Islander giant through a forest.”

Nyvar recounted the events that had landed them in the forest, citing the Berserker as the reason they were walking and a downed chopper as their next destination. He hesitated when Marov asked who all survived the Raven’s crash, but figured his best friend should know.

“The pilot’s alive, as are two Gears. Corporal William Banner and . . . Jason.”

“Jason? As in your son, Jason?” Marov replied, his eyes widening as he tried to pick himself up. “Well, shit, Nyvar, what are we waiting here for? Let’s get the kid, now!”

“As much as I want to, we all need a break. We’ve been moving as fast as we can for the last two hours trying to get to the chopper,” Nyvar said, a bitter tone in his voice and his muscles itching to move, to find his son and keep him safe. “I’m going to check on Ty. Ven, try to rest while you can. We’ll move in ten.”

Nyvar did not wait for a reply as he moved over to the youngest member of the squad, the man’s sharp, green eyes filled with pain. Naleena was by his side, rubbing his arms and cooing softly to try to make him comfortable as she probed his side.

“Hey. How you doin’, man?”

“Not –ow- too good, sir. But I can still fight if you need –errgh- me to,” the man replied, laughing in pain at himself as he finished. “I’m so pathetic.”

“Naw, man. I know how bad this shit hurts, but you’ll make it through. Just take it easy. Parker and ‘Leena can take over for you and Marov for now.”

“Yes, sir,” Ty replied, smiling through the pain in his ever cheerful mood. Nyvar smiled too, shaking his head and gently patting the man on his good shoulder. He shifted his gaze over to the woman tending to him, noticing her bandanna was back on her face, the white cloth contrasting greatly with her dark skin. He wondered vaguely why she was wearing it, but an answer came to him after he breathed in through his nose. They stank; all of them. None of them had had a bath for days. Aside from her, Nyvar thought, remembering how clean she had looked when they first met.

“We need to move soon, Gearhead,” Parker said, looking intently back the way they had come. Nyvar walked over to where the man was, far enough away from the others to keep their conversation private. “I think I hear the Locust crashin’ through the forest.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing it, too. Nothing we can do about it but find a defensible position after we get the survivors from the Raven.”

“Waste of time. We need to find cover, now,” Parker replied, causing Nyvar to narrow his eyes in annoyance. Plainly the man held no kindness in his heart for the COG forces, aside from working with them to save his own skin.

“Hell, if you have a problem, Parker, now’s the time to say it. Shit, man, if you don’t wanna stick around, no one’s stopping you!” Nyvar said, angrily, spreading his arms out to encompass the group, his Lancer pointing toward the ground. Parker whirled around, his cheek still blue from the hit he had received from Ty earlier, irritation in his eyes.

“I’m not staying here for you, asshole,” Parker said acidly, pointing at Naleena. “I’m doing this for her. Not you, not your little band of misfits, and definitely not for the COG. And I’ve had it with your self-justified bullshit; the Coalition only looks out for itself. They burned half of Sera to the ground to keep themselves safe, leaving the survivors to die!”

Nyvar ignored everyone’s stares as they noticed the yelling, gritting his teeth, trying to keep a lid on his anger. He knew his son being in trouble was just ramping up his temper, but until they reached the Raven, he had to control himself. He closed his eyes, unclenching his fist; he had not even noticed the action.

“Fine. After we reach the Raven, Naleena can decide to leave with you or join the COG. I know you’ll try your damndest to keep that from happening, but until then, you deal with this shit like a grown man and follow my orders. You were a Gear once, you know what’s at stake here – we don’t have time to bellow at each other all day.”

“Whatever, Gearhead. Just keep your COG propaganda to yourself,” Parker said, his eyes flashing dangerously as he hefted his Lancer to his chest.

Nyvar did not like what he saw in the man’s eyes, but he had to trust the man, for now. All their lives depended on their working together. He stared into the man’s eyes until Parker looked away, kicking at a rock and sending it into a tree stump with a loud thump. Nyvar looked down at his wrist, pulling back the black sleeve to uncover the watch; it was time to move out.

He passed Naleena and Ty, motioning to them that it was time to go, not trusting himself to speak at the moment. When he arrived at Marov’s location, he bent down and picked the man up with a grunt, his knees almost buckling under him – plainly he was not as fit as he used to be when he was younger.

“You weigh a god damned ton, Sy’,” Nyvar gritted out, shaking his head as Ven moved closer to help. He would do this himself. “What’ve you been eating? Rocks?”

“Hell, rations sure taste like ‘em,” Marov said, his breath hot on Nyvar’s neck as he settled himself in. “So what was that all about back there?”

“Don’t wanna talk about it.”

“C’mon, man, I need to know these things in case you ever get yourself knocked out. Like the time Kathryn hit you in the head with the frying pan. Remember that?”

“Aw, screw you,” Nyvar said, glad Marov could not see his smile at the mention of his late wife. Back before Emergence Day, Nyvar had just gotten home after the Pendulum Wars ended and snuck up on his wife to surprise her. Unfortunately, she had been in the process of washing the dishes and she reacted badly, slamming the pan directly into Nyvar’s forehead. The blow had knocked him out, momentarily. Marov had been there, luckily, and they revived him quickly. Marov was laughing when he came to, while Kathryn was slapping him, scolding him for scaring her and saying how sorry she was for what she had done.

“Just sayin’ man. So are we all a big, happy family with the Stranded again or do we need to watch the animals?”

“Parker’s willing to help us until we get to the Raven. Then, all bets are off,” Nyvar replied as they started moving, Ven leading them and Parker bringing up the rear.

“Perfect. Well, I suppose it coul-,” Marov started, sounding cheerful for once.

“Don’t finishing that sentence, please,” Nyvar complained, grunting as they trudged up a hill. Things could always get worse.

They traveled as quickly as they could, the trees giving way to small clearings now and again. They skirted them, however, preferring not to be spotted by any passing Reavers. The flying, squid-looking monsters the Locust used to get around were deadly to ground forces, able to either strafe from the sky or land and spear soldiers with their sharp, sword-like ‘feet’.

Presently, static whispered over the radio, warning Nyvar that an incoming transmission was coming through his earpiece. He held onto Marov with one hand, reaching the other up to his ear and connecting his side of the communication line.

“Uh, Sergeant, you better be getting here fast. We’re seeing a hell of a lot of Reavers flying around over the wreckage,” the pilot’s voice said, sounding tired and worn. “We’ve managed to take cover in a formation of rocks, but I don’t know how long we’re going to remain undetected. Any chance you could hurry it up a little?”

“Nyvar here. Just defend that position; we’re about 4 klicks away from your position, now.”

“Roger that. Oh, one more thing. When we were up in the air, I spotted a wall of clouds heading our direction. Looks like Frost is ready to kick our ass with a snowstorm, sir.”

“Aw, shit,” Nyvar replied, glancing up at the sky through the trees. He could not see any sign of the storm, but he noticed the wind was starting to pick up. “Did you spot any signs of caves in the mountains or anything?”

“No, sir. I was a little busy trying to dodge the green explody things trying to take down my bird,” the pilot’s reply came, filled with sarcasm. He did not blame the man for resorting to the tone, especially in the current situation, so he let it slide this time.

“Copy that. We’ll be there soon, Nyvar out.” He took his hand off his earpiece, breaking the circuit.

“That didn’t sound good,” Marov said, his voice sounding stronger. “Things getting worse?”

“Unforunately,” Nyvar replied, chewing on his lips as he tried to think. “Reavers are swarming the crash site and there’s a snowstorm blowing in our direction.”

“Shit, I knew it was getting colder.”

“Yeah. Do you think you can walk yet, Sy’? I need to have a word with our Stranded friend.”

“I’ll try,” Marov said as Nyvar set him down, leaning on Ven as the South Islander came over and offered a shoulder. Nyvar dropped back as the two moved forward, letting Ty and Naleena know the situation.

“We’ve got a problem,” Nyvar started, walking beside Ty and letting the man lean on him for awhile, giving the girl a break. “We’ve got snow coming in within the hour and no shelter. Any chance you or Parker would know somewhere we could hole up?”

Naleena pulled the bandanna off of her face, frowning as she looked back at Parker and thought about the question. Nyvar saw Ty looking at her with a soft expression on his youthful face and sighed. The man was still a kid when it came to women, regardless of Nyvar’s orders.

“Parker never really told me anything about this forest,” she began, her lips moving almost hypnotically. Nyvar could see why Ty was smitten with the girl, at least. “But, I once heard him talking to Riddley about a series of caves near here. I think it’s that way, somewhere.”

Nyvar looked over at where she was pointing, seeing the giant form of some unnamed mountain rising out of the trees perpendicular from their position. He mentally marked it and nodded, steadying Ty as he tripped over a root.

“Alright, that’s our best bet, then. Thank you.”

“Its fine,” she replied, shaking her head and making her hair sashay across her face. A determined look appeared on her face as she took Ty back from Nyvar, whispering, “And when the time comes, I’m sticking with you. Parker won’t be able to sway me otherwise.”

Ty smiled weakly at her; Nyvar could tell the man was happy with the announcement, though it would probably cause trouble later on down the road. He put it aside for now, though, as he ran to catch up with Marov and Ven. The two men were just cresting a small hill, Ven helping Marov up a ledge by pulling him up with his massive arms. Nyvar forgot just how strong the South Islander was, even with lack of sleep – he was glad the man was on their side.

As soon as he heaved himself up the ledge, he heard a Hammerburst’s distinctive sound, quickly followed by static once again almost deafening him. He reached up to his ear, idly wondering if he should switch it to the other to relieve his hearing.

“Sarge, this is Private Nyvar. The Corporal is dead and we’re being surrounded by drones,” his son’s voice said, sending adrenaline through his veins.

“Yeah, and I think I can see come Boomers coming in, too. Lucky us. Damn it all, I didn’t sign up to be a ground pounder!” the pilot’s voice complained, snub pistol shots echoing as he returned fire.

“I see you. Sit tight, we’re going to flank ‘em,” Nyvar said, taking his hand off the earpiece. “Marov, you stay here, and tell Ty to sit this one out, too. ‘Leena can give us some covering fire with that Longshot of hers while Parker defends this position. Ven, you’re with me. Let’s go rescue us some Gears.”

They both replied with ‘yes sirs’, Ven following Nyvar as he ran to the left flank of the Locust firing into the rocks. They both took cover behind a tree, looking out onto the battlefield. One of the drone’s heads exploded in a shower of gore as the pilot got a lucky shot.

“Yeah, take that you pale faced sons of bitches! Can’t handle th- oh shit!” the pilot’s voice rang out. Nyvar watched as the man hopped back into cover as the Locust shifted their fire on his rock, chipping away at the improvised cover. Jason burst out of cover when that happened, throwing a frag in between two drones. One of them managed to scramble away from the device, but the other erupted in a display of blood and dirt, body parts flinging into the sky.


With a smile on his face at Jason’s kill, Nyvar motioned for Ven to circle around and flank them from the other side. He looked around the tree he was standing behind, analyzing the forces arrayed against them. Six drones were scattered behind trees and a bunch of rocks, firing at the stones and roaring unintelligible epithets at the Gears there. There was a Theron directing them and hissing as it motioned forward to something out of Nyvar’s view. What came next caused his heart to skip a few beats.

“BOOM!” a deep, growling voice yelled, echoing into the forest. Seconds later, there was a whistling sound as the massive Boomer shot its weapon. An explosion tore a tree in half to the side of Jason’s location; Nyvar was glad the trees were interfering with the thing’s aim. With a hand to his ear, he tried to raise Ven.

“Ven, we’ve got a Boomer in business. That’s the first priority. Do you read me?”

“Yes, sir. I am in position to make the Locust one with their gods,” Ven replied mystically, his voice overlaid with the strange resonance he had when in battle. The voice still gave Nyvar the creeps, but he shook it off.

“Alright. Hit it!”

Nyvar belted out a battle cry, taking aim at the Boomer and firing his Lancer at it, bullets whizzing through the air to impact the thing’s heavy armor. It listed to the side as the slugs hit it, catching it by surprise. It tried to turn, but Ven opened fire at that moment with his Gnasher shotgun, blowing the giant Locust into slightly less giant pieces. The Theron cried out in a slithering whisper, trying to get the drones to respond to the new threat. However, his face turned into a spray of red as a Longshot round went off, bone and brain spewing out of the back of the things helmet.

“Alright! The cavalry has arrived!” The pilot’s reedy voice echoed into the forest, quickly changing from jubilation to a caustic overtone. “Granted, they’re a little late, but they’ve arrived!”

“Good to see you, sir,” Jason said over the comlink, stepping out from behind a rock and firing down into the now confused drones. One of the Locust spun as the projectiles bit into its shoulder, falling to the ground and weakly crawling for cover. Nyvar had other plans, however, and burst from cover, raining Lancer rounds down on it, putting it out of its misery.

The rest of the drones went down quickly under their combined fire, Ven making short work of the two closest to him with his shotgun. Thick, dark blood stained the green forest. A cheer went up from the rocks as the last drone fell, quickly silenced as an explosion blew one of the rocks to rubble.

“BOOM!”

“Aw, shit, another one?” Nyvar said incredulously.

“I thought you took care of it already! What the hell, man? I said Boomers earlier, as in plural!” the pilot complained, anger in his voice at most of his cover being demolished.

“Can it. We’ll take care of it!” Nyvar said, gritting his teeth and trying to find out where the Boomshots were coming from. Another whistling sound warned him just in time, the rocket blowing a tree into splinters next to him. He grunted as pain filled his face, his hands coming away with blood. He would feel that later.

“Ven, do you see it? I can’t get a location,” Nyvar yelled, his face tingling.

“Yes, sir. Taking care of it,” Ven replied, Gnasher shots resounding through the air. Nyvar looked where it was coming from, watching with mounting trepidation as Ven roared and charged the Boomer. The thing stood its ground with its yellow teeth bared, trying to reload its weapon before the South Islander could get to it.

“Ven! What the fuck! Get the hell out of the way!” Nyvar yelled, watching the tableau unfold before him, horror and panic warring in his chest. What happened next would haunt him forever. He heard the sound of the Boomshot reloading quite clearly, the ‘chak’ as the rocket slid into the chamber hammering in his ears as time slowed down.

Nyvar watched Ven’s face morph from a savage expression to one of complete and utter serenity. Flashes of memories roared through Nyvar’s brain as he saw that face, watching the expression repeatedly cropping up at multiple occasions through the years they had known each other. He dimly could hear himself yelling something as the whistle of a rocket leaving its chamber screamed in his ears.

“NO!”

Ven kept going, bringing his shotgun up and firing off two rounds before the rocket hit him and exploded, sending the man flying back into a tree, pieces of armor ripping through trees around him. Nyvar shouted, tears mingling with the blood on his face as he fired an entire clip into the Boomer, watching it fall, already weakened by Ven’s Gnasher blasts.

Nyvar had no more ammunition, so he flung his gun to the side and ran toward where his friend lay, his head down against his chest, skin blackened and his hair smoking. He fell to his knees next to the man, reaching out a hand to check for a pulse. There was nothing. Everything stopped for him as he kneeled by one of his best friends, completely stunned. There was no way this could happen, not to Ven. The massive Gear could not be gone without even a word of goodbye. Distantly, Nyvar felt hands grab him and pull him away from the sight, Marov limping with Naleena as they worked to resuscitate the Gear. Marov was beating on the man’s chest, trying to start the heart back up again, but Nyvar knew it was not going to be.

The air grew colder as a shadow glided across the scene. He looked up, still kneeling there, not hearing anything, just watching as dark clouds roiled in the heavens. Thick, white flakes fell, dancing in the wind, the first signs of Frost ushering in the season of sorrow. A savage howl screeched through the silence of the forest; Wretches were on their way.

“Grab his tags. We need to move,” Nyvar heard Marov say through a broken voice from far, far away. “Jason, grab your father. He’s in shock right now, so don’t worry. He’ll be fine. Move out!”

((As I write this, I finally understand the attachment a writer has to his creations. This was extremely hard for me to finish; I could actually feel the grief at the passing, but, to my eternal sadness, in Sera...no one lives forever.))

[Lilam]

((So I'm confused... why did Ven charge a Boomer again? Even a sleep deprived man would not full on charge a Boomer for any reason other than to commit suicide. So... Ven had a death wish then? He didn't seem like the suicidal type but maybe I should go back and read through again. I dunno... Ven's death felt a little forced to me. Not that I'm expecting any of them to have a heroic death or anything, but charging a Boomer? Really?

I wasn't so much as saddened by his death as I was trying to figure out what the hell just happened. I think even Ven being cut down by drones would have been more dramatic. Perhaps an accidental death that plays off of his lack of sleep and thus, his increased probability of making dumb mistakes that would lead to his death. Everything else I was all on board for, until that point. And it's not like his death scene was horribly written or anything. I guess I just didn't like how it all went down.

But! That's just my opinion and not a critique or anything. Good read, as always, and I'm looking forward to the next installment (albeit sans Ven ). I'm really enjoying the subtle way you spotlight Ty and Naleena developing relationship. I'm not sure if it's going to lead to anything, but it's cute to "watch" as it unfolds and the way you're pacing their budding feelings is perfect. I'm also loving the sarcastic pilot. I snort-giggled at the "green explody things" comment.

ANYWAY. Moar plz k thnx. ))

[tamwyn]

((Well, I can agree I didn't do too good on the death scene, you're right. Perhaps it was forced, so I may rewrite it differently. But I have a few reasons Ven -might- be suicidal. Let's look back, eh?

Alright, first we have the suicide in chapter 2 which Ven found first and was alone in there for about three-five minutes. That showcased how hopeless things are on Sera, that people are willing to leave the world to be free.

Second, we have the women and children of the Stranded Convoy; they were all but skin and bone. Ven expressed how he wished he could do more, and that was surely something that pained him to see. And then they died, bringing home that hopelessness from earlier; that death is the only release. Or he could have been pained because he couldn't do anything about it.

Finally, we have sleep depravation. This guy has been working hard and been in a few battles without sleeping for two days. The mood he is in is one of pain and loss, so it makes sense, in my opinion, that combined with the two things above, this might make him want to just get it over with.))

[Deleted]

((Quick Recap:

Joseph Nyvar, Syval Marov, Tyler Fais, and Ven Salora (Squad Echo Three) travel from Jacinto out to retake the Lethia Imulsion Factory from deserters. Along the way, their bot breaks down and they save a Stranded Caravan in exchange for parts to fix the bot. As they near the destination of the caravan, the Locust attack, killing all the Stranded but to; Parker, the leader, and Naleena, his second in command. While running away from the devestation, they are attacked by a Berserker, but are saved by a King Raven carrying a squad of Gears, including Nyvar's son, Jason. As it kills the Berserker, it is shot down by Nemacysts deep in the forest nearby. Nyvar and his team travel through the forest in a race against time to save Nyvar's son and the pilot, the only two survivors when they get there. During the battle, Ven falls to a Boomer. And that is where we begin this chapter. . .))

Chapter 8: Rising Son

“Being a Gear is about protecting people, son, helping people who can’t help themselves, and that includes the Stranded when they let us. Never let anyone tell you different. We’re the only thing standing in the way of humankind’s annihilation. I know you’ll make me proud when you get into the field. Just be careful. Your mother’d come back to haunt me if anything happened to you.”
-Joseph Nyvar to his son, a day before Boot Camp.

En route to a cave for shelter from snowstorm;
1343 hours

“C’mon, dad,” a familiar voice said accompanied by a tug on Nyvar’s arm. He looked up, seeing but not seeing the face of his son, slight fuzz dusting the young man’s chin. His son was here, something he was unable to focus on; why were the final moments of his best friend the only thing whistling through his mind? He was numb, just following his son in the blistering cold forest, reliving the memory over and over.

“Am I losing it?” Nyvar whispered to himself, raising his hand to his face and staring at the blood on it. He had seen friends killed before, in the worst ways possible. His own wife had died before his eyes. Kathryn.

He smelled her hair on the cool breeze, the forest and snow flurries disappearing as the memory came to him, blotting out the real world. The sound of gunfire and mortars punctured the air around him, but he did not even notice. Kathryn was lying in his arms, a hole the size of his fist in her stomach. Blood was being leeched into the ground as her eyes fluttered, her pale hand reaching for his face as she smiled. The soft touch of her hand stroking his rough beard sent a thrill through him, quickly followed by an almost soul crushing feeling. He pulled her to him, knowing she was not going to make it. What was he going to tell his son? He didn’t know what to do other than hold her. She hugged him weakly, her warm breath brushing his ear, stuttering in slight pain despite the numbing agent Nyvar had injected her with.

“I love you, Joe,” she said, coughing, “but I gotta go, ya know?”

Nyvar could picture the smile on her face as she said those words, a ritual they had performed since they had married. He had always been the one to say them, his duties to the COG forcing him away from his family time and again. She had always smiled and replied with a cheerfulness that had no real base besides love.

“Yeah, I know, Kat. We’ll be back together sooner or later. Can’t get rid of me forever,” Nyvar said, holding her tighter. He closed his eyes, his soul too worn to even cry as her grip grew slack. It felt like there was a void in his chest, sucking away all the light and emotions, leaving him numb. Minutes passed by like an eternity, Kathryn’s pulse slowly fading into stillness.

He laid her body gently on the ground, feeling nothing as he picked up his gun and looked out of the small store he had hidden in. Marov and Ty were taking cover behind a couple of supporting pillars, trading fire with the grubs in the courtyard. Ven was next to him in the only available cover, calmly firing off round after round of the Longshot. When the South Islander drew back to reload, he looked up at Nyvar; there was a deep sorrow in the man’s eyes, tears running down his face.

Something twisted inside Nyvar’s chest at the sight, the world seeming strange and suddenly surreal. He felt his breath coming in gasps as his eyes widened, a slight tug of a smile on his face. He jumped over the counter and waded into the courtyard, his gun flashing before him as he laughed hysterically, uncaring about the returning fire hammering into his armor.

“Dad?”

Nyvar broke out of his memories, his heart racing and small clouds of his breath puffing into the air with rapidity. His face felt pinched and stretched in the cold air, its temperature combined with his son’s voice suddenly shocking him back into his right mind. He looked at his bloody hand, collapsed into the snow, and blacked out.


Two days later, somewhere in the mountains
1906 hours

The first thing he felt as he swam back to consciousness was warmth. As he came to, he heard voices at the edge of his hearing, their voices seeming to be heated. He struggled to open an eye, succeeding and seeing nothing but a ceiling with spikes hanging from it. A smoky smell and the crackling of burning wood told him that there was a fire in the cave; the source of the heat he felt.

When he tried to move a lance of pain shot through his left side; it felt like someone was stabbing him with a white-hot poker. Nyvar closed his eyes again, grunting deep in his throat against the pain. Resigned to being forced not to move for the moment, he took stock with his limited senses.

His armor was no longer covering his body, for one, though the black bodysuit he wore in armor was still there. When he moved his hand up his left side, he noticed a soft bulge around where he was hurting. Logically, that told Nyvar that he had suffered some sort of injury, but if it was during the battle or after it, he couldn’t tell.

The feelings of malice and despair that had been at the back of his mind flooded to the fore as he thought of the end of the battle, and Ven. However, Nyvar pushed them back with a practiced ease; the affliction was something he was used to after losing someone, even if it still hurt in his chest. At first, the emotions would win out in his mind, but eventually he would overpower them and return to his right mind. He didn’t like feeling like a prisoner in his own body, so it never lasted long.

Sighing with the not insignificant effort of regaining himself, Nyvar tried to listen closer to the voices in the distance. Luckily, they seemed to be getting louder, so it was less difficult than before.

“I don’t understand,” said a young voice; Jason, Nyvar thought. He sounded worried – Nyvar felt like getting up to grab his son and never let him go, but knew that was impossible at the moment.

“He’s got a few problems, Jason,” Marov’s voice replied, carefully modulated to a neutral pitch. “I think Ven might have reminded your father of the way your mother. . .” He trailed off.

“Oh,” came the response, Jason’s voice thick. Nyvar could just imagine his son’s head bowing down for a moment before setting his shoulders and looking forward. Jason had always been stronger with the emotional side of trauma; Nyvar was glad of it.

“He’ll be alright, though that chunk of shrapnel we removed from his side might cause a few problems,” Marov continued, revealing the reason for the bandage. Adrenaline was amazing, sometimes; Nyvar hadn’t even felt it happen. Figuring it was time to get a report on the situation, Nyvar grunted and called out.

“I’m awake, son.”

“Dad?” Jason, his armor covered in grub blood, rushed over. Kneeling down and staring at him with concern, he continued. “You okay?” Nyvar shifted his eyes to the side and grunted again, embarrassed.

“Yeah, I’m good. Can’t move with this wound in my side, though.”

“That’s because you had a tree shoved into your ribcage, ‘Seph,” Marov said, smiling through his bushy mustache. “You should be fine in a day or so. Sparks’ pretty good with that surgical stuff.”

Nyvar nodded, looking at Jason again. The kid had grown since he last saw him, three months ago. He looked tougher, a new scar on his lip and his eternally messy brown hair shorn short. Muscle he hadn’t had before had bulked up the rest of his body; it seemed like the armor was just a hair too small for him.

“How long’ve I been out? And what’s the situation?” Nyvar asked, curious to know what had gone on during his recovery. Marov sat down on a stone and leaned back against a stalagmite, crossing his arms. Jason followed his example and sat on the floor next to his father.

“Well, you’ve been sleeping for a couple of days, so we’re way off schedule for attacking the facility,” Marov said, looking up at the ceiling. “Grubs’ve been scouting out our location. This is the third cave we’ve had to move to. Took out a couple of patrols, but there’s always more. Surprisingly, there haven’t been any more of those invisible wretches, as far as we can tell, but who knows. They aren’t known for their stealth, but this breed could be silent.”

“Not something I’d like to imagine,” Nyvar said, closing his eyes and willing his body to heal. He hated being useless and just sitting here doing nothing while his team risked their lives. “What about Ty and our Stranded friends?”

Marov looked to the side, avoiding his gaze, causing Nyvar to think the worst. After a moment of excruciating silence, Marov continued.

“Parker’s missing. He left out on patrol with Jason and me, told us he wanted to check something out. Haven’t heard from him since; personally I hope he’s dead.” He paused, blowing out a breath. “Ty’s fine and Naleena seems to have no inclination to leave with Parker. The girl’s got a good head on her shoulders, for a Stranded. Follows orders well enough, seems to mesh well with Ty and Jason.” Marov smirked and looked over at Jason, who blushed slightly at the words. “The pilot, Jonesy, is out with Ty and Naleena at the moment, trying to see if there’s any supplies left at the Raven. For a flyboy, he’s a pretty good shot with a pistol.”

Nyvar nodded, his eyes closed as he absorbed all the information. The pilot would be a risk to bring with them, having no armor. Still, they weren’t going to just leave him here. Jason seemed to be having the same trouble with Naleena as Ty did, which wasn’t a good thing. With all the battles and adrenaline, emotions would be heightened. Nyvar didn’t feel like seeing Ty or Jason’s heart break; he’d have a talk with the three, separately. With a goal in his mind for the moment, he opened his eyes.

“Good work, Sy’,” Nyvar said, smiling at his best friend. “Let me know if the situation changes. Jason, you mind staying here for a second?”

Marov got up, patting Jason on the shoulder as he left. The boy looked at his father questioningly, but stayed quiet. Nyvar stared at the ceiling for a second before starting.

“So, Naleena,” Nyvar said, awkwardly.

“She’s cool, I guess,” Jason replied, scratching his neck as he looked to the side. Nyvar noticed a slight red coloring as he said it. Nyvar knew he was probably suffering from the same thing, but carried on regardless.

“She’s going to be a Gear,” Nyvar rumbled, “so there’s certain rules we have to follo-,” Jason cut him off.

“I get it, dad, stay away from her,” Jason said sadly. “It’s just. . .”

“I just don’t wanna see you get your heart broken, son.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I get it.” Jason sighed, standing up. “I’ll go help Marov with the food. Ty and the others should be back in an hour or so.”

“I love you, you know,” Nyvar said, uncertainly. Jason paused, not turning around.

“You too, dad. Thanks for saving me.”

Nyvar watched as his son walked away and out of sight, sighing and closing his eyes for a moment. The smell of meat being cooked danced around the cave, causing his stomach to rumble hungrily. When was the last time he ate? Nyvar shrugged and went over the Imulsion Facility’s schematics in his head as he waited for the food to be finished.

Presently, he heard more voices coming from the left, Ty’s laidback tone resonating with Naleena’s playful one. The pilot’s voice rang out suddenly, something sarcastic Nyvar couldn’t make out, causing the others to laugh. These people were his family. Nyvar smiled and fell back asleep, confident someone would wake him up when the food was done. As he headed back toward dreamland, he thought of Ven and his wife, and the pain returned. However, he could deal with it as long as he had his family around him.

[Deleted]

Chapter 9: As Quiet as a Whirlwind

“My Gears aren’t made for stealth missions, Chairman, but they’ll do their best. We still have a few old recon suits from back in the Pendulum Wars. Send them with the Raven; I’m sure they’ll be happy to see it. After all, Nyvar and his boys are old pros with the suits - more than I can say for some squads.” -Colonel Hoffman to Chairman Prescott, when informed of Nyvar’s ‘bot’s signal being picked up.

Somewhere in the mountains,

2006 hours

Nyvar awoke to the smell of cooked meat – what exactly it was, his stomach didn’t care. When he opened his eyes, Naleena was holding a plate, an actual plate, with a few slices of meat. Her dark skin flickered with the fire’s light, making her somehow more beautiful than usual. Nyvar could see why the two boys were attracted to her. Her deep raven hair went extremely well with the color of her skin, her luminous eyes like stars against the night sky.

“What is it?” Nyvar asked as he took the plate, glad to have something to take his eyes off the woman. He thought of Kathryn as he carefully maneuvered himself to a sitting position; while Naleena looked nothing like her, they had somewhat of the same personality. The one where they could get what they want just by using their feminine wiles – the thought caused Nyvar to smile slightly.

“Venison,” Naleena replied, standing back up and leaning against the wall. “The grumpy one said you wanted to see me?”

Nyvar almost choked on his meat at the description of Marov, chuckling slightly at the mental image it conveyed. His best friend in the rain, looking miserable and irritable, complaining about something, as usual. When he finished chewing, he looked up at the woman, wondering slightly at how Marov knew to send her to him. The man must have noticed the same thing Nyvar did.

“Yeah. It’s about Ty. . .and my son,” he said neutrally, watching for a reaction. Unfortunately, she only shrugged and stared straight into his own eyes.

“I haven’t been leading them on, if that’s what you think,” Naleena said, frowning slightly and turning her expression into a slight pout.

“Regardless, if you want to become a Gear, there’s certain procedures ya gotta follow.”

“Like?” Naleena replied, arching an eyebrow. Nyvar frowned slightly, wondering if the woman knew where this was going already; however, he was already in, so he might as well finish.

“Like fraternization, for instance, dating someone in the ranks. A punishable offense, for good reasons.”

“Uh huh.”

“Well,” Nyvar paused, suddenly unsure of himself. “I just want you to be careful with the boys. Practice distancing yourself for the military.”

“I get what you mean, Gearhead,” Naleena said, using Parker’s nickname for Nyvar, “but my private life is my own business. And I don’t think I’ll get court marshaled and drummed out of service when the COG needs every soldier it can get.”

Nyvar had to admit the woman made a good point, even if he didn’t like it. The war wasn’t going well for the COG; they were losing soldiers left and right. Still, if he was going to keep control of the situation, he had to stick to his guns.

“Listen here, missy. You stay away from Ty and my son for the rest of the mission. I don’t want them to get distracted and try doing something stupid to save you. That could get them killed. Do you want that for them?”

Naleena frowned even further, her eyebrows coming down and wrinkling her forehead. Then she turned and left. Nyvar hoped the former Stranded got the message. Now the only one left was Ty to talk to. He wasn’t looking forward to that conversation, as it seemed the boy was extremely attached already. Nyvar sighed – they didn’t have time for all this angst.

“Reminds me of Kathryn,” said a voice from the side. Nyvar looked over to see Marov leaning against a stalagmite, his arms crossed. “She called me grumpy, too.”

Nyvar smiled at the joke, nodding and digging into his food as a wave of sadness washed over him. He didn’t think he’d ever get over losing his wife.

“Got some good news, if you’re feeling better, ‘Seph,” Marov continued, standing up. “The pilot happened to bring a few of the old recon suits. You know; the ones we wore when we took down those Indies back in the Pendulum wars.”

Nyvar stopped chewing for a moment, thinking back to the previous war. It seemed so long ago and so stupid now that he thought of it again. The human race had been fighting for a hundred years while the grubs plotted under the ground, waiting to unleash hell on Sera. Still, the war was probably one of the reasons the COG had survived as long as it did; peacetime military was never as organized as a wartime one. As well, all the weapons would never have been developed; the Hammer of Dawn, for instance.

“Yeah, I remember,” Nyvar replied, swallowing the meat down with a swig of water. “That’s where you got that hilt, right?” He pointed at Marov’s sidearm, the custom bone hilt etched with markings.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Marov said, guardedly, “how’d you know?”

“Just figured it out now, to be honest,” Nyvar said, shrugging and returning to his meal. He ate for a few moments before he noticed Marov had stopped talking. “Hey, Sera to Sy’. How many suits do we have?”

“Oh, uh, three,” Marov replied, seeming to break out of a trance. Nyvar frowned slightly, then an idea came to him that might cheer Marov up.

“Feel like seeing if we still got the skills to use ‘em, Sy?” Nyvar said playfully, standing up and wincing slightly. His wound was better than it had been a few hours before, even if it still hurt like hell. It kind of reminded him of the time Marov had mentioned; he’d been injured then, too. Marov looked up, the darkness gone from his face, his mustache tilting up in a tell tale smile.

“We aren’t that old. Let’s hit it.”



In the forest, en route to the Lethia Imulsion Factory,

2030 hours

Crack.

“Quiet!” Naleena whispered, frowning at Nyvar. He just responded with a soft sigh, placing his feet more carefully. He felt Marov prod him from behind, a clear message that said “yeah, be quiet, old man”. Grumbling in his thoughts, Nyvar continued after Naleena, the woman’s form encased in a recon variety of standard Gear armor. It was much smaller than the regular gear armor, more gaps in between the plates of armor. All of it was covered in a dark camouflage that blended well with the surroundings, a cloth of the same color forming a sort of cloak that draped over their shoulders and head. It reminded Nyvar of ancient times; back when men had used bows and arrows instead of guns and bullets. Still, if they got themselves in a firefight, they weren’t doing their job right.

The suit Naleena was a little too big for her, since they were built for more muscled individuals, but she hardly made a noise even with the extra room. Nyvar and Marov, on the other hand, were not up to her standards, plainly, as the woman kept shushing them. Unfortunately, Nyvar had been the subject of them than Marov, to his best friend’s enjoyment.

Suddenly, Naleena held up a fist - the signal to freeze. Nyvar stopped where he was, concentrating on making his breathing quieter and trusting the suit to keep him hidden in the dark forest. Slowly, Naleena reached around for her borrowed Lancer, bringing it up to her chest.

“I smell oomanz,” a gritty voice said, the sound of sniffing audible in the cold air. Nyvar looked to his left where the voice came from, seeing a group of three grubs standing below them, beneath the ridge his team was on.

“Liar. I don’t smell oomanz. You just hungry,” another equally rough voice replied, slapping the other grub in the head. The third made a sound that Nyvar thought was a laugh, but filled with more malice than a normal laugh would hold.

Nyvar would have thought it comedic had they been anything but Locust. With exaggerated slowness, he pulled a knife out of his boot, the matte black blade seeming to absorb all light. He signaled to Marov, pointing at the left grub. The man pulled out a similar knife from his belt, nodding, slowly creeping forward to the edge of the ridge. Naleena, understanding what they were doing, put away her gun and pulled out a knife from somewhere, Nyvar couldn’t tell where, and knelt down by the ridge. She pointed out the one on the rightmost side and Nyvar nodded.

Holding up three fingers with the hand not holding the knife, he looked to each of them and counted down. When he reached zero, he leapt in the air on a collision course with the grub in the middle. He brought his knife down in the drone’s neck as he hit it, his momentum forcing the grub to the ground. Nyvar pulled the thing’s head up out of the leaf-strewn ground and brought his blade across the thing’s throat. There was a lot of resistance, so Nyvar had to saw the blade back and forth a few times before it broke the skin. The whole time, the thing was trying to resist, trying to push off the ground, but Nyvar just held on, hissing in pain as the drone’s elbow hit him in his injured side. Blood started gushing out as the knife bit deep into the thing’s throat, Nyvar only stopping when it quit thrashing.

Suddenly, a heavy weight hit him from the right side, forcing him off the dead grub and landing in a heap with Naleena on top of him. The grub she had been supposed to take care of stood with a knife sticking out of its shoulder, an angry expression on its face. It reached for the sidearm at its side and pulled it out, aiming it at Nyvar and Naleena.

He thought it was the end right there, Ty’s girlfriend on top of him and his knife lost somewhere in the brush. Not the most heroic way to die, by any means. He pushed Naleena off of him, hoping she’d at least dodge the bullet. However, he needn’t have bothered.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw motion and turned to look, the grub following his gaze. Marov stood up from his kill, grabbed his knife by the blade and threw it at the pistol-wielding grub, burying the weapon to its hilt in the thing’s eye.

It cried in surprise, falling back and squeezing off a shot into the air. The pistol’s discharge was loud in the silence of the night. Before the thing could recover, Marov pulled out his own sidearm and pointed it at the drone’s head, pulling the trigger. A wet gurgle accompanied the sound, slowly dwindling into silence.

“Thanks for that,” Naleena said, breaking the quiet.

“No problem, missy,” Marov replied, smiling and spinning his pistol before slamming into his holster like some hero in an action movie. Nyvar rolled his eyes at the action, standing up and looking for his knife. He spotted it underneath a root and reached for it, putting it back into his boot.

“I wasn’t talking to you, showoff,” Naleena replied, standing up and dusting herself off. “I was talking to the asshole who threw me into the dirt. But thanks for that, too.”

Nyvar looked up at her words, an angry expression on his face and a retort on his lips. However, a smile and an arched brow met his gaze, cooling down Nyvar’s temperature. He didn’t realize the former Stranded knew how to joke.

“I’ll remember that next time I try to save you from a bullet between the eyes, little lady,” Nyvar replied with a grin, watching as Marov tried to pull his knife out of the grub’s eye. “What happened, anyway?”

At those words, Naleena looked down and her smile disappeared, turning into a frown. She muttered something quietly, holding her left arm and massaging it.

“What?” Nyvar said, grinning even wider. “I couldn’t hear that.”

“I was too weak to hold it, okay?” Naleena said, turning around and grabbing her own blade from beneath the grub’s weight, Marov holding it up for her. She ripped it out with a sniff and wiped it off in the grass. “We need to move before more show up.”

“Yeah, yeah, change the subject,” Marov said, Nyvar’s grin infecting him. Naleena glared at them for a moment before moving off into the dark forest. Marov followed her, with Nyvar bringing up the rear.

They traveled for a few hours through the cold forest, pausing every now and then as Naleena held up a fist. Each time it turned out to be nothing more than a passing animal; still, it paid to be sure. The hike through the forest was compounded by the snow that had recently fallen, Nyvar’s boots getting wet and soaking through to his socks. Marov grumbled a few times, so Nyvar figured his friend was having the same problems.

It was going well until they ran into an obstruction on the way to the factory. They were at the foot of one of the mountains when they saw lights off to their left and below them, as well as the clinking of chains. Nyvar crept up behind a tree, staring around it and looking down at the horrifying scene.

People, humans, were clustered in groups, chained together and being led out of an opening in the side of the mountain. Following them were a group of five grubs, their weapons held to their chest in a relaxed manner, kicking a few of the slaves when they wouldn’t move fast enough. Nyvar looked over to see Naleena’s face darkening with what he thought was rage – the quickening of her breath was another clue. He put a hand on her shoulder and she whipped her head around to him, her eyes wide.

“They’re Stranded, Nyvar,” she hissed, pointing down at a group pushing a cart of stones out of the tunnel. “I recognize them! They’re from the outpost we were heading to when we got attacked!”

“Are you sure?” Nyvar asked, whispering quietly so none of the grubs below them could hear.

“Yes! That’s one of my friends, Teresa. And there- oh, no,” Naleena stopped midsentence, her jaw dropping and then clenching with rage. Nyvar followed her gaze to see what could cause the reaction and sucked in a breath when he saw it. A gasp from his left told him that Marov saw it too.

Parker stood next to some kind of tall, cloth wrapped Locust, a cigarette in his mouth glowing red. He took it out and turned to the skinny thing next to him, saying something Nyvar couldn’t make out. With a look to his side, Nyvar saw Marov mouthing something underneath his bushy mustache, his eyes widening with anger as Parker finished speaking. A raspy voice clearly audible to the three on the ridge replied to the man’s words, the sound skittering across Nyvar’s mind with an uncomfortable feeling.

“These humans were not where you said,” the thing hissed, sounding angry. “They take out many patrols!”

Parker frowned and spoke to the thing with a wheedling tone, his words too faint to hear. The Locust seemed to buy whatever he said, turning and heading into the tunnel, pulling out a pistol and shooting one of the humans that got in its way with a three round burst. Blood flew into the air, the sound causing Nyvar to flinch as someone was murdered before his eyes. Parker seemed a little startled, too, bringing the cigarette back to his mouth and drawing in almost a quarter of the thing.

“That f*cking bastard,” Naleena said loudly, reaching for the Longshot and taking aim. Before Nyvar could stop her, she pulled the trigger. Nyvar followed the bullet, a grub stepping in front of it just before it hit Parker. The report of the weapon caused the grubs all around to raise their weapons and look around, yelling in their horrible language.

“Find them! Kill them!” Parker said, pointing vaguely in Nyvar’s direction. The grubs hastened to obey, crawling up the mountain with startling speed.

“Sh*t,” Marov said, grabbing for Naleena and pulling her back as a bullet whizzed into the place she had been. Nyvar looked up where the shot had come from; a sniper was nestled somewhere in the darkness.

“Let’s get out of here and back into the woods! There’s a sniper!” Nyvar said, forcing the others ahead and chucking a grenade down the cliff. It exploded as he ran; the cry of a grub dying music to his ears. However, the shots whipping by his ears were not – he ran harder, his side aching. What happened to stealth, he thought as he caught up to the other two, running away from the veritable army of grubs chasing after them.

[Deleted]

Chapter 10: Revelation

“Alright, now look, maybe I’m not the quietest guy around, okay? But I can get the job done. I never fail, in case you hadn’t noticed. Huh? That time Cole beat me in an arm wrestle? That doesn’t count, have you seen that guy’s muscles? They’re like the size of my frikkin’ head!” -Baird to a member of the squad he just saved

In the forest, retreating from Locust forces,

2250 hours

Bullets were whizzing by Nyvar’s ear with an alarming frequency, his breath coming in gasps and his side feeling like it was about to explode. The recon suit had less armor to it, so there was less weight, but right now, Nyvar wasn’t sure if he wanted the speed he had now or the protection his other suit had.

Marov was starting to pull ahead of Nyvar, Naleena far out in the lead. Suddenly the woman turned around and fired a shot, the bullet flying past Marov’s head. Nyvar’s best friend cursed and flinched to the side, tripping over a root and falling to the ground.

“Aw, sh*t,” Nyvar muttered, catching up to the man on the ground and pulling him behind a tree. A few shots thudded into the wood, the vibration traveling through to Nyvar’s armor. He cursed in his head silently, pressing a hand down on Marov’s back to keep him on the ground. They had to hide, now, and trust that the armor they wore could keep them that way. Nyvar looked up to try and find Naleena, but the woman had disappeared.

A few seconds passed before the first grub ran past, the heavy crunching of its boots on the snow more than enough warning for Nyvar. Trying to be as quiet as he could, Nyvar closed his eyes and stopped moving, breathing in shallow breaths. With all the racket the Locust were making, hopefully they wouldn’t spot the two forms by the tree.

The second and third ran past, as well, shooting into the darkness seemingly at random, their grisly laughs filling the night. Nyvar hoped the cold air would play havoc with their sense of smell, like it had earlier. Luckily, that seemed to be the case, as another four ran by after the others, not even pausing to look around.

When there were no more sounds of footsteps echoing from behind the tree, Nyvar felt safe enough to breathe deeply, the expansion setting his side to a dull pain. Marov picked himself up, his face hidden by the cloak that came with the armor. Pulling it back, Nyvar’s friend looked at him questioningly, his hand on the sidearm at his waist.

“I think they’re gone,” Nyvar whispered, looking around the tree at where the grubs had come from. He didn’t see anything, and breathed a sigh of relief, standing up. He put out a hand to help Marov up, heaving the man to his feet with a grunt.

“That was close, huh?” Marov whispered with a grin evident in his tone. “Reminds me of old times, you know?”

“Yeah, I know. Of course, none of the old times were good times,” Nyvar replied, remembering the last time they wore the suits.

“Maybe.”

Crick.

Nyvar ducked, pulling his Lancer from his back, peering into the darkness, Marov following his example. Something had made that noise and Nyvar didn’t think it was anything friendly. He moved slowly and deliberately, trusting his armor to keep him blended long enough to spot the enemy before they could find him. Nothing jumped out at him from the darkness, though he could feel something’s eyes on him, setting the hair on his neck up.

He looked around again, nearly having a heart attack when he did so. A few meters away, a grub with a Longshot was crouched by a tree, sweeping the weapon back and forth. Nyvar raised his weapon, taking aim at the grub with a conical helmet. His finger tightened on the trigger just as a heavy weight impacted him from behind. With a trained response, his finger left the trigger guard as he fell, twisting around so he landed on his uninjured side. A guttural yell rang out as Nyvar looked up, his best friend fighting with another grub, the thing already having grabbed both of Marov’s wrists. Nyvar saw the knife in Marov’s hand just as the grub kicked him in the chest, sending the knife flying and Marov backwards.

Reflex took over as Nyvar brought up his weapon and fired a burst from his Lancer, catching the grub attacking Marov full in the chest. It roared at him as it weathered the hail of bullets, finally falling as Nyvar’s clip clicked dry. Nyvar ejected the spent clip and leapt to his feet, sliding in the next cartridge with practiced ease. A shot rang out, pain lancing Nyvar’s shoulder as a bullet grazed him and impacted a tree behind him. The grub with the Longshot finally found his prey.

There was no time to run over there before the grub reloaded and this time, Nyvar knew it wouldn’t miss, so he dove to the side and came up behind a tree closer to the grubs position. He blind fired his rifle in the general direction of the grub, hoping a bullet would find its mark.

No such luck. Another Longshot round went off, tearing a hole through the tree Nyvar was hiding behind. He cursed and turned around the tree, running up to the Locust while he was busy reloading. The chainsaw on his Lancer roared to life as he brought it down on the unfortunate grub, the metal spikes ripping through the thing’s hide much easier than his knife. A few seconds later, it was dead.

“Damn, why does it always have to smell when you do that?” Marov’s voice came from the left, coughing as he tried to regain his breath.

“Hell if I know, but we need to get outta here. All that noise is bound to attract more of the things,” Nyvar said quickly, grabbing Marov by the front and hauling him to his feet. “Stop falling down, old man. You’ll break a hip.”

“Aw, shut it,” Marov replied as they ran through the forest, in an arc around where the grubs had gone, just in case they doubled back to check out the brouhaha. They had almost reached their campsite cave when they heard the sound of Hammerburst rifles in the distance. They double timed it, running through the snowy forest as quick as they could. Nyvar slipped and almost fell over a few times as they ran, but somehow kept his feet under him.

When they finally arrived, they saw an group of about twenty Locust assaulting the cave from downhill. Ty, Jason, and the pilot were defending themselves well, judging by the bodies rolling back down the slope. A Longshot round rang out from near their position, causing a grub to fall over with smoke rising from its head. Naleena must have made it.

“’Leena, you out there?” Nyvar yelled, giving up all pretense of stealth. Not like the grubs could hear him over the din of the battle anyway.

“Over here, Nyvar,” her voice said sharply, followed by another round of her gun. “I’m running low on ammo.”

Nyvar checked his own ammunition and found only a few clips left. He looked at Marov and saw him shake his head. Damn. They were outgunned and outnumbered; never a good combination. Nyvar and Marov found Naleena kneeling with her rifle on top of a rock, steadying it better than she could holding it in her hands. As they ducked behind the rocks next to her, she fell backwards, cursing as rounds ripped through the air where her head had been.

“How’re we going to get them out?” Naleena asked, picking herself up off the ground and ducking behind a rock next to Marov. Nyvar looked around and tried to come up with something. Suddenly, with a boop, Sparks’ materialized out of thin air, his ‘eyes’ quirking to the right as he looked at Nyvar.

“Sparks!” Nyvar said, glad to see the little robot. Then an idea came to him. “Sparks, I’m going to need you to do something for me.”

It beeped an affirmative, bobbing in the air, almost looking inquisitive. Nyvar regretted what he was about to ask, but he didn’t have any other ideas on how to get out of the pickle they were in.

“I need you to try to drop a few of these on them,” Nyvar said, pulling out the last of his bolo grenades. “Maybe they’ll think it’s a bombardment and run away. At the very least, it’ll get rid of a few of them.”

The little robot booped, rising into the air and disappearing. Nyvar felt a little guilty as the robot obeyed him unquestioningly, even though there was a strong likelihood Sparks’ might get shot and destroyed for good this time. Still, maybe there was something he could do to distract the grubs from the grenades dropping.

He stood up and brought his Lancer to his chest, steadying it and firing into the horde of Locust. A few bullets hit their mark before the return fire peppered his position, but there were still eighteen of the bastards still out there. Nyvar reached up to his ear and initiated a circuit, breaking the radio silence he and his recon team had been under.

“Ty, this is Nyvar. Do you read?” The reply came back quickly, Ty sounding like he was out of breath.

“Yes, sir, loud and clear. Is Naleena with you?”

“She’s fine, son,” Nyvar said, looking down at Naleena with a “see what I mean?” expression on his face before replying. “Listen, Sparks is about to drop a few grenades on the grubs. You got any explosives with you?”

“No. Well, sort of, sir. We have a barrel of fuel Jonesy siphoned from the downed Raven,” Ty said, pausing to take a shot. “We could roll that down the hill with a frag attached to it.”

“Roger that. Do it now, before Sparks drops the bombs,” Nyvar said, breaking the circuit and leaning out to take another shot. One of the grubs dropped under a hail of Lancer fire, his buddy falling next to him as Marov opened up with his own Lancer. Sixteen left.

Suddenly the group of grubs nearest the cave lit up in flames, the Locust flailing around in a macabre dance as the fire consumed them.

“C’mon, Sparks, now would be a good time,” Nyvar said as he ducked back behind the rock, trying to count in his head how many had been lit on fire. Five or so, he thought he counted, so about eleven left. He breathed in, inhaling smoke and the smell of burnt flesh, almost causing him to throw up.

Two bangs, quieter compared to the barrel igniting, disturbed the battle, silencing the Hammerbursts for the moment. Nyvar risked a look out, seeing chunks of grubs littering the area. He aimed and fired at one of the figures still moving, grunting in satisfaction as it dropped back to the ground. Under their combined fire, the battle was over quickly. The grubs, whittled down to just a group of four, ran away, firing behind them as they retreated. Nyvar was glad they were leaving; he’d run out of ammo a few minutes ago and knew Marov was suffering the same problem judging by the amount of cursing coming from him.

“Yeah, b*tches, run. Can’t take none of his flyboy,” Jonesy’s voice rang out after the grubs, the man pissing away ammo at the retreating grubs.

“Jonesy,” Nyvar yelled over the mic, “quit wasting your damn ammo. We need that for later!”

“Yeah, yeah, alright,” Jonesy’s reply came. The man fired off one more shot and his form disappeared back into the cave. “I see why you ground pounders are always coming back with the most stories. You run into some stupid sh*t down here.”

“Just be glad you lived through it, pilot,” Nyvar replied, sighing and resting back against the rock for a moment. Then, gathering himself, he and the rest of his recon team slid down the ridge they’d been firing from, going straight back up to join Ty and the others at the cave.

“Report,” Nyvar said, collapsing to the ground in exhaustion and leaning back against one of the stalagmites.

“Well, we’re out of f*cking fuel, thanks to your brilliant idea. Not that I’m complaining,” Jonesy said, adding the last part quickly as Nyvar opened his eyes and glared at him. “Other than that, I think we’re good.”

Ty shook his head at the words, handing Nyvar a bottle of water. He took it gratefully, twisting the cap off and chugging down half of it, passing it to Marov when he was done. Jason handed another bottle to Naleena, smiling slightly at her. The woman smiled back, thanking him, catching her breath before she took a sip of the water.

“We need to move, sir,” Ty said, his tone somewhat irritable as he watched Jason and Naleena, “The grubs know our position.”

“You’re right,” Nyvar replied, not looking forward to the hike to find a new hidey hole. “We’ll move out in ten.”

“So what’s the plan, sir?” Jason asked, leaning back against the wall to clean his gun.

“We need to rescue those people,” Naleena started, but Marov cut her off.

“They’re just Stranded,” Marov said, earning a glare from Naleena. “What? They are. Still, I wouldn’t mind slotting Parker.”

“Rescue? Parker?” Jonesy asked, suddenly interested, his face in a frown. “What, did the guy get himself captured?”

Nyvar shook his head, sneering with disgust at the depths the Stranded would plunge. Selling out his own people, for what? “No. The bastard’s chummy with the Locust.”

“What?!” Ty, Jonesy, and Jason said incredulously all at once.

“Parker’s made a deal or something with the Locust. He’s sitting around while my friends are tortured and forced to work in some kind of mine,” Naleena said hotly, setting down the water bottle and jumping to her feet. “That. That little.” She couldn’t finish her sentence, so overcome with fury.

“Calm down, Naleena,” Nyvar said, standing up himself. “You need to learn some discipline. You almost got us killed out there. I didn’t give you an order to fire!”

Naleena looked shocked as Nyvar yelled at her. Then she looked down, deflated.

“You’re right. I just. I. . .” she trailed off, tears in her eyes. However, none of them fell down her face. The girl was strong. Nyvar looked away, not wanting to see the results of his yelling. His gaze came to rest on Jason, who was looking outside with a furrowed brow.

“You think of something, son?” Nyvar asked, curiously. Jason started, looking at his father; he nodded.

“Yeah, you mentioned mines, right?”

“That’s right,” Marov said, replying before Nyvar could. “Why?”

“I think I remember something about these hills being filled with some kind of metal. Something important,” Jason said, biting his lip and closing his eyes like he was trying to remember.

Sparks suddenly materialized, booping and beeping, surprising them all. Nyvar cursed under his breath; the ‘bot seemed to enjoy scaring him.

“Sparks, I’m glad you’re okay,” Marov said, glad to have something to distract himself with. “Looks like you have a little graze on you. Here, I’ll fix you up.” He motioned the robot to the back of the cave, where his toolkit was.

“The JACK!” Jason said quickly, his eyes wide. “You said the wretches have our ‘bot tech attached to them, right?”

Nyvar frowned, wondering where his son was going with this. Then he understood, nodding to himself.

“Yeah, that’s right. You don’t think that the metal they’re mining is-.”

“The same metal they use to build the JACKs. Some kind of special alloy that allows the cloaking field to actually work,” Jason said excitedly, putting the pieces together.

“Oh, sh*t,” Nyvar said, remembering something Parker had said, days ago. “That f*cking idiot, he better not have done that.”

“What?” Naleena said, looking up with her puffy red eyes.

“Parker said he used to build the ‘bots back when he was still part of the COG. He must be building the generators for those new wretches!” Nyvar slammed his fist into a wall, angry beyond words. The bastard was supplying the enemy with tech that could kill the COG!

((Act One complete. Still interested? Check out gearsforums.epicgames.com/showthread.php?t=729737 every now and then to see if I've posted another chapter. I won't be posting anymore here.))