"Two hundred confirmed kills, ten destroyed vehicles and one really pissed commander." Angelina threw the report file on the desk, glaring directly at Valerie who was gazing out the window. I sat next to Val, slightly uncomfortable as this may have been the tenth talk-down this month regarding botched missions.
"Commander Grey is itching to find a reason to shut us down if we keep this up. The only thing saving our sorry asses is because of the frontlines. They need an expendable squad to get behind and disrupt their supplies and intelligence."
Val dares to lock eyes at this point. "Didn't we do that?"
"Yea, only for you to get the wrong fucking file!" She threw the file in question across the table into my reach. I skimmed through only for my stomach to sink. It was troop movements and supply times....for last month. I looked at Val only for her to shrug.
"I don't keep track of time that well." She said, only to get smacked in the face by a clock. The blow sent her backwards over her chair. She scrambled to her feet and scowled at Angelina, a timepiece missing from her desk.
"What the hell Angel!? You almost killed me!"
"Coming from someone who can't tell the difference between a fragmentation and high explosive grenade, I'm surprised you aren't." She retorted as she caught the clock. Valerie didn't have that good of a arm, explaining the danger close ordnance in some of our missions. Angelina set down the clock gently, a nice spiderweb crack crawling over the face as the second hand kept clicking in place.
Valerie rubbed her new bump as Angelina carried on: "We are being told the facility's destruction provides some leeway for some of our recon units. But the lack of intel puts our headquarters in a ditz as they try to figure out how to counteract the new troopers being released sometime next week. That info is vital because we don't know what they are and when they will be getting released."
She wasn't wrong. We had been at war for the last two years and the results aren't exactly morale boosting. We've lost ground and a lot of good soldiers due to these robotic units that's been tearing through our ranks: the Cagnetts. They've been nicknamed turret walkers because that's all they are, just a heavy gun on stilts with a high-tech AI system that can work without a pilot. Not only that, but their creators are also a synthetic race of cultists that want to eradicate the system of organic life and procede by deploying toxic fumes into our atmosphere. The first year was a battle with gas masks and heavy ordnance, but upon capturing several of them and scrapping the Cagnettes we discovered that these beings weren't as all we thought them to be.
They were humans once, a race called Cagnors that were once peaceful until their planet was disrupted by an unknown entity aboard a meteor that hit their planet. The atmosphere became so toxic that it would melt anything organic, but the substance molted into their systems and seemed to have expanded their brain activity. After a decade of discovering themselves and worshipping the meteorite, which they call Caglin for their false god, their technological advancement skyrocketed by decades.
Their ships were ready for space travel a few years before us, and had just discovered us several years later. By this time, they beat us back to our planet and forced us into a ground warfare. If it weren't for our blessed scientists and engineers, out planet would have already been blown to pieces or too toxic to survive. There are still deadzones scattered over the world that are deemed too hazardous for even our highest suit resistance, but our resistance and constant bombardment have given us ground at a cost. Our first year alone nearly wiped a third of the planet. The following years had reduced casualties but not at all forgotten.
As I was reminiscing, Valerie flicked my forehead. I blinked back into the current timeframe and looked at her. Angelina had already left, probably to send our latest report.
"Earth to Gerald? You kinda blacked out after Angelina clocked me with her, well, clock." She smirked at the pun, then winced after touching her forehead. I got up.
"Lemme get the pain reliever. At least it'll help you sleep." I had barely gotten two feet before she came from behind me and glomped me.
"Aww, your soo sweet Gerry." She squeezed tight, sending me for air. She was skinny, but her arms were pretty damn strong from carrying so many heavy ordnance.
"No problem." I gasp after she lets go, giving her the ointment and heading over to my consoles. I checked the vicinity for any disturbances and made sure the radio feed was clean. There wasn't any missions coming from headquarters, no surprises there, so we will be on standby until we get called in. Which is a relief for Angelina, but not for me. Valerie is like a dog without a chew toy, so she tends to always have a bone to pick with me. She demonstrates my point by peeping over my shoulder at the radar.
"Anythin?" She asked as I could smell the odor of the pain creme swarm my nostrils. It was quite pugnant, but very effective. I flinched and retched as I tried to push her away.
"Please wait until that damn stuff wears off. It's making my eyes water." Her eyes glimmered as she inched closer, and I reeled away further. She pulled so close that it sent me over my chair tilt limit and caused me to fall over. As I tried to get to my feet, she pins my arms to the cold floor and brings her nose to mine. I gasp for what clean air I could and turned my head. She stayed there, barely moved by my struggling and stared intently at me. My lungs were burning after a few seconds and I could feel my cranium starting to pound painfully. I couldn't stand it anymore and gave in.
I gasped, the smell intensifying and causing me to retch. She looked amused and got up, allowing me to breath in relief.
"You are so damn annoying." I stated after I caught my breath. She smiled and headed for her quarters, talking over her shoulders.
"Get some muscle and you might be able to beat me next time." The door shut behind her on the last word, leaving me in the silent communications room interrupted every few seconds by a beep from the radar. I gathered myself and rechecked the systems before setting the monitors offline for the night. I cut the power to dim and headed for my room at the end of the hall. I locked the door and landed on my cot. I stared at the dimly lit ceiling before pulling out my comm link. I set the setting to personal log and hit record.
"Current date: December 21, 2178. Recent mission was a somewhat success, with Valerie yet again blowing her way to the objective. Prototype suit was recovered with minor damages, although the Direct Ordnance Launcher needs repairs after taking a few bullets. No reports of enemy activity and no missions listed so we are currently on standy." I sigh and look out the reinforced glass window over the vast grassland, one of the few locations untouched by the Cagnor gas. I look over the horizon, letting the recorder run a few more minutes before shutting it off and pulling the covers over me. It took a few minutes before I drifted into the dark void that never changes.