________________________________________
Federation system: Ambepher system
Sector :arch sector.
planet: Dremel
Status: invasion
Alert: Uth'er Dan forces detected!
Threat Level: ?
ERROR! ERROR! ERROR!
________________________________________
The troop transport shuddered violently, rattling loose bolts and creaking as it plummeted through the thick clouds of ash and smoke. Lena clutched her rifle, knuckles white, her stomach in knots. Each jolt felt like it might tear the craft apart. The hum of its engines strained against gravity, a noise that seemed too close to a dying animal's whimper.
Across the cabin, Shaw sat with his back to the wall, chewing lazily on an unlit cigar. His scarred, pitted armor made him look more machine than man, every scrape a history she dared not ask about. He had been through this hell before, and it showed in his dismissive sneer.
"Touchdown in ninety!" barked the pilot, his voice crackling over the comms. "Brace yourselves; it's a shitstorm down there."
The squad's tension was palpable. Novak muttered a prayer under his breath, fingers twitching against his plasma repeater. Jory, the youngest of them, sat pale-faced, his rifle cradled against his chest like a talisman. Even Lena, who had spent months drilling for this moment, felt the gnawing edge of fear threatening to swallow her resolve.
Shaw caught her eye and gave a lopsided smirk. "Relax, rookie. You'll only die if you panic."
Her throat tightened, and she forced a shaky nod. Shaw made it sound so simple, but the countless videos of soldiers torn apart by the Uth'er Dan swarmed in her mind. Screaming faces, mutilated bodies, the inhuman screeches that haunted her sleep. Training had prepared her for combat, but nothing prepared you for the smell of burning flesh or the helpless cries of comrades.
"Landing in thirty!" The pilot's voice cut through the cabin.
The red lights flickered, casting the squad in an ominous glow. Novak clutched a pendant hanging from his neck and murmured what sounded like a prayer. Shaw spat the cigar onto the floor, rolling his shoulders like a predator about to pounce.
"Cut the chatter and focus," he snapped, voice cold and sharp. "Keep your wits, or you'll get us all killed."
The transport slammed into the ground with a bone-rattling thud. Lena's head snapped forward, her helmet connecting with the restraint harness. The ramp hissed open, and the full fury of the battlefield roared into the cabin.
"Move, move!" Shaw bellowed, his voice barely cutting through the cacophony.
Lena stumbled out into the inferno. The colony was in ruins, its once-clean streets turned to a sludge of blood, ash, and mud. Buildings lay crumbled, jagged steel jutting out like the bones of some massive, dead beast. Fires raged, casting long, flickering shadows. The air smelled of ozone, burning metal, and death.
Ahead of them, the enemy poured out of the darkness.
The Uth'er Dan were a nightmare given flesh—sleek, chitinous bodies that shimmered unnaturally in the firelight. Their elongated limbs ended in claws sharp enough to carve through reinforced plating. They moved with a feral, alien grace, each step calculated, predatory. Their eyes glowed faintly, a sickly green that seemed to pierce through the haze.
"Contact!" Shaw roared, leveling his rifle. His first shot ripped through an advancing alien's chest, the golden plasma bolt vaporizing its torso in a spray of steaming ichor.
The swarm charged.
Lena raised her rifle, hands trembling as she squeezed the trigger. Her first shot went wide, streaking uselessly into the smoke. The second struck a smaller Uth'er Dan, blowing off part of its face. It stumbled but kept coming.
"Damn it, keep shooting till the can't get up!" Shaw yelled, shoving her behind cover as a clawed limb sliced the air where she'd been standing.
Her breathing came in short gasps, her ears ringing from the explosions around her. Novak's repeater roared to her left, the heavy plasma bolts punching through the chitinous armor of three advancing enemies. He let out a triumphant shout before something leapt onto him from above. Its claws sank into his shoulder, and Novak's screams turned to gurgles as its teeth found his throat.
Lena fired wildly, her shots grazing the creature. It hissed, a guttural, insectoid sound, before skittering back into the shadows.
"Stay together!" Shaw barked, plasma bolts tearing through the advancing swarm. His movements were mechanical, precise, every shot finding its mark. Jory wasn't so lucky. He screamed as a clawed limb impaled his leg, dragging him toward the mass of writhing bodies.
"Cover him!" Lena shouted, but her voice was swallowed by the chaos.
Jory's screams ended abruptly, and her stomach churned. She fired until her rifle overheated, the plasma cells glowing white-hot. Her vision blurred with tears and sweat, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
By the time they reached the outpost, half the squad was gone.
The outpost itself was a mockery of safety—a crumbling structure of steel and concrete barely holding together. Its automated defenses sputtered to life, plasma turrets swiveling to cut into the swarm. For a moment, Lena dared to hope. Then she saw the next wave.
The ground seemed to quake beneath the sheer mass of the approaching horde. Dozens, no, hundreds of Uth'er Dan surged forward, their shrieks drowning out the sound of the turrets.
"Set up a perimeter!" Shaw shouted, dragging Lena to the shattered remains of a barricade. His armor was dented, his helmet cracked, but his eyes burned with defiance.
Lena reloaded her rifle, her hands blistered and shaking. She fired into the swarm, the recoil jarring her already-aching shoulders. Novak, somehow still alive, stood atop a pile of rubble, his repeater spitting plasma death into the mass of bodies.
"They're breaking through!" Novak yelled, his voice tinged with desperation.
The barricades didn't last long. The swarm overwhelmed them, pouring through gaps in the defenses like water through a sieve. The Uth'er Dan were relentless, their claws tearing through armor, their shrieks echoing like banshees.
One of them lunged at Lena, its glowing eyes locking onto hers. She screamed, firing point-blank. The plasma bolt blew its head apart, spraying her visor with gore. She stumbled back, gasping, her boots slipping in the mud. Another creature pounced, and she braced for the end.
Shaw's blade cleaved through it mid-air, the plasma edge hissing as it sliced through chitin. He hauled Lena to her feet, his face inches from hers.
"Keep it together, rookie!" he snarled. "We're not dead yet."
But it felt like they were. The behemoth arrived with an earth-shaking roar, its massive frame blotting out the firelight. It towered over the battlefield, its chitin glistening like obsidian. Plasma bolts from the turrets bounced off its hide, leaving only shallow burns.
"Concentrate fire!" Shaw ordered, though the desperation in his voice was clear.
The squad focused their fire on the beast, their plasma bolts illuminating the night. It charged, slamming into the outpost with the force of a battering ram. The structure groaned, parts of it collapsing under the impact.
Novak was the first to fall, the behemoth's clawed limb ripping through his chest. He didn't even have time to scream. The creature bellowed, its roar shaking the ground, as it tore through what was left of their defenses.
Lena fired until her rifle overheated, her vision blurred with tears and sweat. Shaw fought like a man possessed, his plasma blade carving through the smaller Uth'er Dan that swarmed them. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough.
"This is it," Shaw said, coughing up blood as he dragged her behind cover. His leg was mangled, his armor cracked and bloodied. "Make it count."
Lena nodded, her fear replaced by a grim determination. She stood, aiming her rifle at the oncoming tide. If she was going to die, she'd make sure these bastards remembered her.
Then the sky opened.
Missiles—cover fire Five tore through the clouds, their impact shaking the battlefield. The impact was deafening, obliterating a chunk of the swarm and sending shockwaves through the ground.
Following it came another troop carrier to help reinforce and advance from the position .
When the dust settled, they troops stepped out—a hundred men in standard federation gear, our reinforcements are here now.They moved with mechanical precision, their plasma rifles cutting through the swarm like scythes through wheat. One armored vehicle carried two massive rotary plasma machine guns, its roar drowning out the alien shrieks. A squad leveled a plasma- rocket fueled launcher at the behemoth. The explosion was blinding, vaporizing the creature in a flash of golden light.
Lena stared, awestruck, as the reinforcements advanced. They kept shouting the federations call, they didn't hesitate. They became death incarnate, and the battlefield belonged to them now.
For the first time, Lena felt a flicker of hope.
The Uth'er Dan, scattered and regrouping in desperation, didn't realize their fate until the first wave of plasma fire sliced through the air. It was like a giant tearing through a field of wheat, the plasma bolts ripping through their ranks, leaving nothing but fiery holes where their bodies used to be. The smell of burnt flesh was immediate—sickly sweet and metallic as the bodies of the Uth'er Dan dissolved under the golden-hot beams.
"Move!" Shaw's voice snapped through Lena's earpiece, but she was rooted to the spot. Her eyes could hardly follow the reinforcements movements—they were too fast, too precise. Every shot they fired was a calculated execution, every step they took a grim march toward total annihilation, a true veteran company.
The armored vehicle kept realising his golden-red plasma shots rifle. The energy burst from the muzzle, lighting up the battlefield like a bolt of lightning. The beam slammed into an incoming group of Uth'er Dan, their bodies instantly erupting into a cloud of vaporized flesh. No screams, no time to react—just sudden, unrelenting destruction. The air shimmered from the heat, and in the wake of each shot, the ground was scorched black.
The air vibrated with each burst, and the first wave of Uth'er Dan soldiers was engulfed in a hurricane of plasma fire. The machine gun chewed through them like a scythe through wheat. Uth'er Dan didn't even have time to reach their weapons before they were reduced to nothing but charred remnants. Armor, flesh, and bone melted into puddles of sizzling goo as the energy rained down on them.
"Keep moving!" the squad leader's voice barked through the comms. His command was clear, cold, unfeeling. The Soldiers didn't hesitate—they didn't flinch. They had no remorse for the aliens only pure hate, no fear only hunger. They were instruments of war, and war was a symphony they had been born to play.
A massive explosion shook the ground as two soldier handling the plasma-rocket fueled launcher, fired a plasma rocket into the cluster of Uth'er Dan attempting to flank their position. The rocket soared through the air, trailing bright blue exhaust before it collided with a cluster of enemy soldiers. The explosion was deafening—a thunderous shockwave that sent bodies flying, limbs torn from their sockets. Shrapnel rained down, and the air was thick with the acrid scent of burning flesh.
The battlefield was no longer a field of war; it was a slaughterhouse. The Uth'er Dan, once fierce and proud, were now scattered like ragdolls, their bodies shredded, their war cries drowned by the deafening roar of plasma fire.
The reinforcements didn't give them a moment's respite. Guns spitting out a relentless barrage of energy. The Uth'er Dan were no more. They were turned to ash in an instant, their screams drowned by the violence of the weapon.
Lena's heart hammered in her chest as she watched it all unfold—the soldiers, are harbingers of doom. The ground was littered with the twisted remains of Uth'er Dan soldiers, their bodies nothing more than burnt skeletons and smoldering husks. What once had been a formidable force was now nothing more than a patchwork of charred flesh and decimated armor. The air was thick with the scent of death—the tang of ionized metal, the stench of burning blood, and the bitter, sharp smell of plasma.
But even as the battlefield was reduced to a charred wasteland, the Soldiers didn't stop. They advanced, as relentless and cold as the machines of fury they were. Another rocket fired from one of the Soldiers, and a massive explosion engulfed a command post where the Uth'er Dan had tried to make a stand. The impact sent debris flying in all directions, and a crater the size of a small building was left in its wake.
The last two Squads moved in tandem, each taking a side of the battlefield as they systematically cleared the area. Their golden-red plasma rifles hummed with lethal energy as they fired with unerring precision. Their shots turned armored Uth'er Dan into nothing more than mist and vapor. Even the very earth seemed to recoil beneath the weight of their onslaught.
The Uth'er Dan, now in complete disarray, made one final desperate attempt to regroup. But the Soldiers of the federation didn't care. They didn't wait for them to make their move; they were already ahead, already unleashing their fury.
The squad leader—the one with the plasma rocket launcher—slammed his weapon into the earth, kneeling as he targeted a large gathering of Uth'er Dan soldiers in the distance. The rocket shot out like a missile, and when it hit, the explosion was deafening. A massive cloud of fire and debris filled the air, and the shockwave flattened anything within a hundred meters. The earth cracked open, and in its wake, nothing was left but the remnants of the enemy's once-proud forces, now reduced to nothing.
Lena's heart felt like it was going to burst as she watched the massacre unfold. The Sentinels didn't just fight—they obliterated. They were not soldiers. They were gods of war, and this battlefield was their domain.
"Move out," the squad leader's voice came through once more, cold and detached. "No survivors."
The reinforcements advanced as one, their armor gleaming darkly in the smoke-filled air, their weapons still hot from the onslaught. Lena felt her legs weaken beneath her as she struggled to stay upright, watching in stunned silence as the reinforcements, a force of nature, walked over the ashes of the battlefield.
There were no cheers, no celebrations. Just the quiet aftermath of destruction. The Uth'er Dan had been wiped out—not a single one left standing. And the soldiers, with their brutal efficiency and tireless drive, had delivered the final, crushing blow.
And in that silence, Lena knew the tide of war had irrevocably shifted. There would be no more hesitation, no more fear.The reinforcements were here to end this, and nothing—no one—would stand in their way.
The battlefield was a desolate wasteland. Bodies of Uth'er Dan littered the ground, their once menacing figures now twisted and burned beyond recognition. The air stank of scorched flesh and molten metal, a reminder of the overwhelming devastation the Sentinels had wrought.
Lena sat against a crumbling concrete wall, her breath heavy, her body trembling from the shock of it all. Her hands were slick with sweat, and her rifle lay on the ground beside her, forgotten. She stared at the smoking crater where the last of the Uth'er Dan had been eradicated in a storm of plasma fire, their once-shining armor now nothing more than melted slag.
Shaw, still standing, surveyed the scene with his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable. The calm after the storm, though, had a heaviness to it—a silence that seemed almost wrong. The kind of silence that only came after something had been destroyed beyond repair.
Lena's voice broke the stillness. "Are they… are they all gone?"
Shaw didn't immediately answer. He just nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the horizon. His posture was tense, though his outward demeanor didn't shift. He was like a man who had seen too many battles to be shaken by this, but Lena knew it wasn't true. He wasn't the same. None of them were.
"Yeah," Shaw muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "All of them." His eyes flicked to the reinforcements, who were standing in the distance, their figures looming over the wreckage like statues of war. They were still. Silent. Watching. Waiting.
"Did we really just survive this?" Lena whispered to herself, the gravity of what had just happened weighing down on her chest. She couldn't comprehend it. The Sentinels… they had wiped the battlefield clean. But there was something chilling in the way they had done it—so cold, so methodical.
"It doesn't feel like surviving, does it?" Shaw replied, his voice carrying a tinge of bitterness. "They make us look like ants, Lena. They don't fight like us. They don't even feel like us."
Lena didn't know how to respond. She just sat there, staring at the ruins of what had been a battleground only minutes ago. She had fought beside her team, fought with everything she had, but none of that mattered when the Sentinels arrived. The difference in power was too much. The weight of their presence was too much.
Then, a voice crackled through her comms. It was a familiar voice, though tinged with the urgency that came with command.
"Lena, Shaw. Report. What's your status?"
Lena grabbed the comm from her belt, pressing it to her ear. "We're… we're good. The reinforcements finished the job." She paused, trying to steady her voice. "They wiped the Uth'er Dan out. Every last one of them."
There was a long pause on the other end before the voice returned. "Understood. Fall back to the extraction point. We'll debrief you on the way. And don't take too long. You're the last ones out."
"Copy," Lena said. She looked at Shaw, her heart still pounding, and he gave her a short nod.
Shaw glanced once more at the reinforcements before turning toward the extraction point, his steps deliberate, like a man who had already accepted what this war had become. "Let's go. It's over for now."
The two of them began to move, slowly at first, Lena still trying to process the carnage, the sheer weight of the destruction, but Shaw was already focused on the mission. As they made their way through the ruins of the battlefield, Lena couldn't help but glance back toward the soldiers.
They hadn't moved. They were still, watching. Almost like they were waiting for something—some sign of life, some indication that the battle wasn't entirely over. But to Lena, it felt like something else. It felt like the Sentinels were observing them, measuring them, perhaps even judging them.
She shuddered at the thought.
They didn't speak as they walked. There was nothing to say. The war hadn't changed. Their survival hadn't changed. The Sentinels had just taken the weight of the fight off their shoulders for now, but that weight was bound to return. It always did.
As they reached the extraction point, the dull thrum of a dropship's engines cut through the silence. It was a welcome sound, but it didn't ease the feeling of unease in Lena's gut. She turned her head to Shaw, catching the look in his eyes. He wasn't a man to show fear, but something lingered in those eyes. Something she couldn't quite place.
"We're not out of this yet," Shaw said softly, though the words were directed more at himself than her.
Lena nodded, but she didn't say anything. She didn't need to. She knew. The war was far from over. The Sentinels might have decimated the Uth'er Dan for now, but that was only a momentary reprieve. A temporary break before the next onslaught. And there would always be a next onslaught.
As the dropship settled onto the ground with a loud thud, Lena climbed aboard, followed closely by Shaw. The door sealed behind them, and the familiar hum of the ship's engines filled the cabin, vibrating through her bones.
The pilot didn't say anything. There was nothing to say. They didn't need to talk. It was the kind of silence that could only exist in the aftermath of destruction—an uncomfortable, suffocating quiet that clung to them like smoke.
Lena sank into one of the seats, her eyes briefly meeting Shaw's. He didn't offer any words of comfort. He didn't offer anything at all. He just stared ahead, his jaw tight, his face set.
They were both thinking the same thing.
What now?
Back on the battlefield, the soldiers remained as statues, their forms towering over the remains of the Uth'er Dan. The last vestiges of smoke and ash curled upward, rising toward the setting sun, while the winds shifted the charred remains of what had once been a thriving enemy force.
One of the soldiers, the leader of the reinforcements group, turned his head slightly. He didn't move, but there was something unnerving in the way his visor glinted in the fading light. He was waiting. Watching.
Then, without a word, the soldiers began to move in unison, stepping away from the battlefield as if nothing had happened. Their armored footsteps were methodical, each step a mark of finality.
They didn't need to look back. They didn't need to say anything. The war wasn't over. It was never over. But for now, they had fulfilled their purpose. And in this desolate world, that was enough.
Their mission was complete.
And soon, their presence would be felt again.
The battlefield was a desolate wasteland. Bodies of Uth'er Dan littered the ground, their once menacing figures now twisted and burned beyond recognition. The air stank of scorched flesh and molten metal, a reminder of the overwhelming devastation the reinforcements had wrought.
Lena sat against a crumbling concrete wall, her breath heavy, her body trembling from the shock of it all. Her hands were slick with sweat, and her rifle lay on the ground beside her, forgotten. She stared at the smoking crater where the last of the Uth'er Dan had been eradicated in a storm of plasma fire, their once-shining armor now nothing more than melted slag.
Shaw, still sitting, surveyed the scene with his arms crossed. His expression was unreadable. The calm after the storm, though, had a heaviness to it—a silence that seemed almost wrong. The kind of silence that only came after something had been destroyed beyond repair.
Lena's voice broke the stillness. "Are they… are they all gone?"
Shaw didn't immediately answer. He just nodded slowly, his eyes scanning the horizon. His posture was tense, though his outward demeanor didn't shift. He was like a man who had seen too many battles to be shaken by this, but Lena knew it wasn't true. He wasn't the same. None of them were.
"Yeah," Shaw muttered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I need bigger guns, all of them." His eyes flicked to the reinforcements, who were standing in the distance, their massive armored figures looming over the wreckage .
"Did we really just survive this?" Lena whispered to herself, the gravity of what had just happened weighing down on her chest. She couldn't comprehend it. The soldiers… they had wiped the battlefield clean.
"It doesn't feel like surviving, does it?" Shaw replied, his voice carrying a tinge of bitterness. "They make us look like ants, Lena. They don't fight like us. Because they seen more battle fields than you guys and are better equiped, if we survive this our squad will get the same treatment hopefully".
Lena didn't know how to respond. She just sat there, staring at the ruins of what had been a battleground only minutes ago. She had fought beside her team, fought with everything she had, but none of that mattered when the reinforcements arrived. The difference in power was too much. The weight of their presence was too much.
Then, a voice crackled through her comms. It was a familiar voice, though tinged with the urgency that came with command.
",Shaw. Report. What's your status?"
Shaw grabbed the comm from his belt, pressing it to his ear. "Yeah… we're good. The reinforcements finished the job." She paused, trying to steady her voice. "They wiped the Uth'er Dan out. Every last one of them."
There was a long pause on the other end before the voice returned. "Understood. Fall back to the extraction point. We'll debrief you on the way, before your next assignment. And don't take too long. You're the last ones out."
"Copy," Lena said. She looked at Shaw, her heart still pounding, and he gave her a short nod.
Shaw glanced once more at the reinforcements before turning toward the extraction point, his steps deliberate, like a man who had already accepted what this war had become. "Let's go. It's over for now."
The two of them began to move, slowly at first, Lena still trying to process the carnage, the sheer weight of the destruction, but Shaw was already focused on the mission. As they made their way through the ruins of the battlefield, Lena couldn't help but glance back toward the Sentinels.
They hadn't moved. They were still, watching. Almost like they were waiting for something—some sign of life, some indication that the battle wasn't entirely over. But to Lena, it felt like something else. It felt like the reinforcements were observing them, measuring them, perhaps even judging them.