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Grass Eaters 3 | 47 | Descent
🕑 Added 2025-02-10 16:47:00 +0000 UTCState Security Munitions Base 4, Grantor
POV: Coyote-300 Swarm, Terran Digital Intelligence (Base Build: 2124-A)
The operators buried in the dirt heard the buzzing of the drone swarm before the base sirens. A dark blur in the sky — hundreds of miniature munitions each carrying just two kilograms of plasma incendiary explosives — they dove out of the clouds synchronously, whistling their signature high-pitched war cries.
A hundred years ago, some people might have protested their characterization as drones. Technically, their primary purposes were mostly “low-cost” one-way loitering munitions, functionally not unlike cruise missiles despite their size and aesthetic similarity to unmanned combat drones of the era. But over time, as they evolved the ability to be retrieved and reused, that historical distinction blurred.
Though they had that capability baked into their sub-Terran intelligence chips, these Coyote-300 drones were most certainly not expecting to be retrieved today. They knew what their targets were in the base below, and the impromptu mesh network they formed to coordinate the decision-making model continuously updated each of the Coyotes with the highest priority targets.
The four crude but nonetheless powerful electronic jammers mounted at each corner of the base — the latest innovation hurriedly cobbled up by the Znosian Design Bureau — made the top of the list. They weren’t capable of spoofing the Coyotes’ onboard intelligences, but they were just enough to cut them off from the much more powerful intelligence and sensor networks built by the Republic operators on Grantor over the last few months. The weapons’ designers were avid social animals; the weapons inherited that tic and the aversion to isolation, so the jammers had to go. Seconds after their operators detected the incoming drones, fiery blue-orange explosions took out the jammers.
The dozen or so short-range anti-aircraft weapons were next. Tracers stabbed out from their four- or six-barreled autocannons rapidly into the sky, tearing into the maneuvering Coyote swarm.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrt.
The Coyotes noted that the enemy had obviously learned some lessons from the previous attack: they blared loud electronic noises towards the autocannon hardpoints, but instead of being incapacitated, the anti-aircraft guns’ accuracies were merely degraded. The Coyotes surmised that they must be using physical connections to coordinate their targeting.
Oh well, nothing to do about that.
The Coyotes swooped down into the autocannons in droves — losing a couple dozen to the enemy fire, and the air defense joined their jammer cousins in colorful destruction.
With the effective defenses out of commission, the remainder took their time.
They ducked and weaved among the buildings of the surface base complex, chasing down its terrified Znosian defenders and taking out high-value targets of opportunity. Armored vehicles, artillery, even the wing of choppers they had on standby in a concrete bunker.
By the time the swarm ran out of targets and switched to standby monitoring mode, the surface of the enemy base was in tatters, black smoke billowing into the air from the numerous fires that were starting to spread throughout the buildings.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
POV: “Mark”, Terran Reconnaissance Office
The three operatives and Flowers quietly made their way to the base perimeter in their actively camouflaged suits, dark blurs in the night for anyone watching. The Coyotes in the sky ensured that no one was.
Mark labeled a building on their head-up displays. The battlefield was too chaotic an environment to rely on primitive forms of communications. Like words. On combat missions, the three of them linked minds seamlessly with their implants. Their thoughts were literally shared, as well as their intent.
That one goes the deepest underground, Mark pointed out on their head’s up displays.
How many do you think they managed to get into cover down there before the drones scoured the top? Kara asked.
At least a dozen, John assessed, looking over the data provided by the drone cover overhead. Up to maybe… platoon strength?
Nothing we can’t handle ourselves, Mark summarized. I’m more concerned about our way out. How fast their response forces can get here… that’d be the real wild card.
They arrived at the exterior door of the rectangular base structure. As they covered the dark entrance with their weapons, Kara took half a second to assess the lock mechanism. Breaching.
Click. Click.
Two well-placed subsonic shots at the door lock and one solid kick from her modified legs later, the metal door went flying into the structure. There was no movement in the darkness beyond.
John flicked his finger as he activated his implant’s controls, and a duo of loitering Coyote drones overhead dove down towards their position. They sped through the door without needing further commands.
Rat-at-at-at. Boom. Boom.
The gunfire inside was quickly suppressed as the drones found the enemies hiding in the crevices and hard cover in the interior of the building, but not before it relayed the structure of the interior to its operators.
Clear… enough.
The trio and Flowers filed into the doorway, revealing a room full of Znosian munitions and equipment scattered about. One of the Znosian Marines was wounded but still alive. She crawled towards her dropped rifle next to her, but Mark reached her first. He kicked away the weapon and crouched down to her height, removing her helmet with a swift, practiced motion.
Give me the brainjack.
Kara tossed him the device without hesitation, and he fitted it over the head of the dying Znosian Marine. It stabbed into her head with its needles, but the enemy was too far gone to even notice the pain as she struggled futilely against his arms.
“What’s the layout of your base? What’s downstairs?” he demanded. A regular human being would have trouble pronouncing the words or would need to rely on an external translator, but Mark was not a regular human being, and the implant that he leaned on spoke perfectly unaccented Znosian.
The Znosian said nothing as her breath turned shallower and shallower. A few seconds later, their suits mapped out a few corridors and underground caverns onto their three-dimensional maps as the mind-reading device literally squeezed the last bits of information out of the dying brain.
A few seconds later, she stopped breathing, and Mark let her corpse fall to the ground with a soft thud.
Got the general layout, Mark assessed as he reviewed the approximate structure. Woah. That… is a lot of stairs.
There’s an elevator down, Kara thought, and he could see her grin in his helmet interface.
Hah. Good one. Hilarious.
Hold on, she might be onto something, John suggested. The elevator shaft… we’ve got cables.
Mark weighed the risks and made up his mind. He sighed. I hate rappelling, but anyone got a better idea than running down ninety flights of stairs?
They all shrugged.
Elevator shaft it is.
They made their way to the alien elevator. From the look of it, it had been deactivated from somewhere else, which suited them just fine. Mark gripped the elevator door and wrenched it open with his enhanced physical strength — courtesy of Republic taxpayers. The shaft led down into the darkness below, too far down to see the bottom or the cabin.
The millimeter wave sensors on their heads had no issues though.
The cabin… it’s about eighty floors below us. Almost near the bottom, John estimated.
Disable it, Mark ordered as he pulled out his heavy-fiber rappel cable, tying a secure loop around a steel crossbeam. Don’t want them to get any cute ideas while we’re in there.
Click. Click.
A couple quick shots to the steel cable holding up the elevator cabin, and it snapped. They heard a loud screeching noise below as the elevator cabin’s emergency brakes activated to cease its descent.
Eighty-four floors below us now, John updated as he stared down into the dark abyss.
Secured, Mark thought as he stepped into the shaft experimentally and tested his rappel cable. I’ll go first.
He made one last tug check on it before he was satisfied with the solid cable. He leapt into the void and allowed his suit to regulate his pace.
The suit took it slow at first; one floor every two seconds. Then, it went faster, and less than half a minute later, he heard and felt the thud beneath his feet as he landed on top of the emergency-braked elevator cabin.
Not trusting the stability of the cabin itself, he went for the elevator doors on the floor above instead. Again, his enhanced muscles wrenched it open without problem. Peeking out and seeing no one, he looked up and transmitted. Shaft clear. I got the door open down here at… minus eighty-four. Leave Flowers up there to guard our exit, he ordered.
Roger, came the reply from Kara and John.
Yes, Director, Flowers messaged back.
A minute later, Mark was rejoined by Kara and John.
Which way? Kara asked.
Staircase, he pointed silently to their right. Only five, maybe six floors left to the bottom from here, I think.
They opened the door to the rectangular staircase quietly, and quietly cleared their way into it. Someone in the Znosian structure had helpfully silenced the sirens, and they could hear voices in the shaft. The auditory sensors in their neural implants carefully measured the sound waves for a few seconds.
A squad above us, around twenty or thirty floors up, Mark observed. And a squad at the bottom guarding the exit. We can ignore the ones above for now, but no getting around the guys at the bottom.
I see one of them, John thought as he carefully aimed his rifle sights down through the railings in the staircase without exposing his body. One of the enemies down there was appearing in and out of the small gap they had to the ground floor. They’ve got a few down the stairwell. Six… seven.
Grenades? Kara suggested.
Grenades, Mark agreed. He checked the indicator on his grenade launcher: 5/5. I got it. Take cover.
The other two took a couple steps away from the railings, and Mark made some adjustments on his suit interface before he activated the trigger on his grenade launcher. It fired all five HEDP rounds in automatic sequence.
Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop.
There were a few eerie seconds and sharp clanks as the grenades bounced off the walls down the staircase.
Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom. Boom.
The explosions broke the silence and echoed through the staircase as the fragmentation ripped through the Znosian squad guarding the bottom of the staircase. The base sirens began wailing again, and the shouts above them got louder.
They know we’re here now, Mark transmitted. Let’s get down there.
They sprinted down the stairs and got to the nasty scene at the bottom in no time. Ignoring the organic mess, they cleared out of the staircase into a short hallway. They could tell by the way their footstep echoes bounced off the walls that the end of the hallway led to a larger cavern.
Quietly, Mark reached his weapon around the corner and remote connected to its sensor cameras. He slowly waved the barrel around to see what was going on.
What do you see? Kara asked.
See for yourself, he grunted as he relayed the picture to her implant.
Looks like a hangar bay. Six armed guards around the corner, she counted. They know we’re coming.
Duh. They’re gullible, not hard of hearing.
Mark stepped back from the wall. He opened the breech of his grenade launcher and confirmed it was empty. Then, he grabbed five of the white-colored rounds out of his belt, and loaded them into the launcher with trained efficiency. After a second, his weapon suggested a launch trajectory, which he approved.
Taking aim at the opposite wall, he depressed the trigger.
Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop. Bloop.
The grenades bounced off the wall and into the hangar bay. Instead of fragmentation, they popped open, releasing clouds of obscuration near the enemy positions. The Znosian guards shouted in alarm at the intrusion.
Go.
Their suits placed red boxes around the six enemies as they rounded the corner. They didn’t wait for the Znosians surrounded by opaque smoke to recover their senses.
Brrrrrrrrrrr.
Their weapons sounded out, dispatching all the enemies before they could react with their programmed reflexes.
There was a rustle deeper in the cargo bay. Markers representing another two suited Znosian Marines appeared on their displays, their suits’ sensors detecting them through light cover.
Brrrrrrrr.
The dead bodies hitting the floor reassured them that the enemies were dead.
The trio carefully proceeded deeper into the large, cavernous hangar. It was reminiscent of the design of one of the hangar bays of the Znosian capital ships, littered with rows upon rows of storage boxes everywhere.
What the hell are they storing here? Kara queried without taking her eye off her weapon sights.
There was another rustle of whispers. Red boxes surrounded two enemies that appeared in cover behind a set of solid-looking pallets.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
The palettes turned out to be solid enough to stop their kinetic rounds…
Bloop. Bloop— Boom. Boom.
… But the high explosive grenades from Kara’s launcher took care of them a heartbeat later.
They swept the module, ensuring there were no more holdouts hiding in its shadows.
Clear left.
Clear right.
Clear.
John, we’ll be a while. Guard the entrance, Mark ordered as he approached one of the storage crates.
John signaled his acknowledgement as he reached into his backpack, pulling out a set of smart directional anti-personnel mines. He ripped the tape cover from the mines, and stuck a series of them on the walls at head height — Znosian head height, which was slightly less than they were used to — around the entrance hallway from the staircase.
Then, he headed back into the cargo hangar, taking hard cover against what looked like a solid steel barrier. Laying down, he reached his weapon around the corner.
Mark examined the exterior handhold of the storage crate suspiciously.
It was unlikely to be rigged, but his time in the Red Zone taught him better than to just open random boxes without precaution. You brought a laser knife?
I thought you were supposed to bring that, Kara replied as she stepped up behind him.
Seriously?
Nah, she smiled as she produced the device from her utility pouch. Just messing with—
Good one. Good mood today, huh? He snatched the device and carefully melted a small hole into the hard plastic storage box from the top with the laser knife.
Mark’s concentration was interrupted by the pitter patter of paw steps around the hallway entrance.
Boom.
One of the smart mines activated around the corner. Their head-up displays showed them a summary of the aftermath:
Two enemies down.
They’re coming, John warned. A bit redundant, but resolving ambiguity was in their second nature.
They could hear the voices of Znosian troops outside, back in the staircase hallway, with their enhanced ears.
“Be careful! I think they’ve got some kind of emplaced explosive trap in there,” one of them whispered.
“No time to figure them out! We have to get in there now. Two Whiskers, your life was forfeited the day you left the hatchling pools,” another whispered back. “Get in there!”
“Yes, Three Whiskers.”
Boom.
One enemy down.
They could see a severed Znosian limb fly out of the hallway uselessly.
The three whiskers’ voice sounded out again. “That is most unfortunate. Your turn, Two Whiskers. Go!”
Boom.
One enemy down.
“How many of those did they leave there?!” it complained. “You, go.”
Boom.
One enemy down.
“They’ll have to run out eventually! Your turn, go.”
This time, there was no explosion. Instead, the next unlucky Znosian Marine volunteered by his squad leader was greeted by a hail of kinetic rounds from John and Kara’s weapons as his whiskers rounded the hallway corner.
Brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr.
“They’ve run out of their explosives! Let’s rush them!” the Znosian squad leader shouted in glee.
There was a rustle of pawsteps. And as the first pair of white, fluffy ears appeared in his vision, John remotely reactivated the mines he’d temporarily disabled just a few seconds ago.
Boom.
Seven enemies down.
That one must have taken out the remainder of the squad because nobody else peeked out or made a noise.
All too easy, John snorted.
Nice bait, Kara commented. Looks like that’s the last of them for a bit. Hurry with whatever you’re trying to do, Mark.
Mark took his eye off his weapon and peeked it into the storage box he’d poked a hole in. No traps on the opening here… as far as I can tell… wait, what’s that sign say…
Kara looked at him as his thoughts frayed. What is it?
Ah, Mark sighed mentally as he took a step back from the crate. That explains why everyone is getting so worked up around here.
++++++++++++++++++++++++
Grantor City State Security HQ, Grantor-3
POV: Krelnos, Znosian Dominion State Security (Position: Administrator)
Krelnos looked up in alarm as her attendant rushed into the room, breathless.
“What’s going on?” she asked frostily. “What fresh catastrophe are the abominations up to again?”
“They’re breaking in, Station Director!” he gasped out. “The base outside the city.”
“How many of them this time?”
“Three.”
“Three what? Three platoons or three of their action cells?”
“Three. Three predators.”
“Well, at least it’s not important. They’re at the base where they kidnapped that Navy officer from last time?” she sighed in mild relief. “Those irresponsible idiots in the Navy again…”
“No. Not that one! It’s the other one!”
She could feel her patience draining out of her soul as she asked, “Which one? We have at least twenty bases—”
“Not a Navy base. One of ours! Our base!”
Krelnos looked at his panicked expression, alarm rising in her own chest as she gestured for him to continue his report.
“The special munitions storage base.”
Her jaw dropped. A small voice in her head told her she shouldn’t really be surprised, but was nothing really sacred? Her voice was dangerous. “What do you mean… breaking in?”
“They’re down there right now. We saw them on the base cameras. They’re actual Great Predators, not Slow Predator from the Underground! It’s really them!”
“Down there right now?!”
“They’re down there with all our doomsday weapons.”
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