Chapter Fifty-Nine - Nyanpalm

“The most annoying thing to deal with are people who come around and call you an idiot, they say that you’re stupid, sometimes even to your face.

Is it any wonder that so many of us just plain refuse to deal with any sort of fan?”

--Sprocket Rocket, livestreamed interview, 2043

***

I fired until my gun clicked empty, then I lowered it while Myalis reloaded. My back-mounted railguns were spitting at any of the bigger aliens to pop their head over the edge. It wasn’t going to be enough.

The wave of aliens was acting like a real wave. It would push out, antithesis racing to us, almost running over each other to reach the barricade. Then we’d mow them all down and the wave would be shoved back, dead falling down to the ground until nothing was alive from where we stood to the crest of the wall of debris. The next wave would surge right after, so many bodies coming over the hillside that even our collective firepower wasn’t enough to push them back.

Gomorrah was actually having a better time of it. Some of her fire stuck to the ground after she sprayed it. A glance to the side and I got to see a model three rush across burning soil, its flesh melted, and by the time it was halfway to Gomorrah’s position the alien had fallen, limbs unable to work and body alight.

“Gomorrah,” I said.

“Yes?” came her terse reply. She was under about as much stress as the rest of us. It didn’t lead to much chattiness.

“I’m borrowing your gimmick,” I said. “Fire’s working where bullets aren’t.” Our goal wasn’t to kill as many aliens as possible. It was to hold.

You can work together with another Vanguard, combining known catalogues to purchase something new. It’s not done too frequently though as there’s little overlap. In this case, there might be some.

“That would have been nice to know earlier,” I muttered. “You hear that Gom?”

“Yes? What’s your idea? Firebombs?”

“I was thinking of something more manoeuvrable,” I said. I paused as my mortars fired again, the booms drowning out all else. The shells went off and sprayed the next wave with enough shrapnel that the wave crumbled early and only needed to be mopped up. “I think I can equip some cat drones with flame throwers. We could spread them out, maybe. Push in?”

Gomorrah took a second to reply. “Atyacus says it’s doable. I’m not sure about the name of them though. Sounds like another one of your stupid puns.”

I baulked. I didn’t make stupid puns, ever. That was... “Myalis, what did you call these things?”

Seeing as they’re basically an upgraded version of a Lynx-type mechanised cat drone, I suggested that we call them Flamethrower Equipped Lynx Intelligent Nyanpalm Edition or F.E.L.I.N.E for short.

“What the fuck is nyanpalm?” I asked.

I need to give credit to Atyacus for the composition of that one. It’s essentially a viscous-kerosene mixture with small capsules mixed into it. Those contain white phosphorus and thermite. The capsules will stick to any surface, then as the coating around them melts, they’ll activate the chemicals within.

“That sounds horrific,” I said.

Inventing new war crimes is one of Atyacus’ favourite hobbies. I personally prefer wordplay.

I shook my head, but I didn’t have time to mess around. “You okay with this, Gomorrah?” I asked.

“It’s fine,” she said. “We can send them in waves. There are plenty of points to reap here, so go nuts.”

I nodded. This entire thing would actually be a lot easier if we could use really powerful explosives. But that wouldn’t work in this situation. “Myalis, let's get a dozen of those F.E.L.I.N.E.s out here.”

Understood. A dozen F.E.L.I.N.E.s incoming.

I didn’t have time to stare at the boxes appearing around me as another wave started to rush us down. I planted my feet in place and opened up at the front of the line. Buckshot tore through the ranks of model threes, then I turned my focus to the sky where a swarm of smaller model ones were flocking.

A glance to the side revealed one of the F.E.L.I.N.E.s jumped up onto the barricade. It was a big, sleek cat, with an armoured body that opened up at the shoulders where a pair of nozzles were poking out. The cat hissed, then twin beams of fire roared out ahead of it and sprayed the nearest edge of the wave.

The flames couldn’t quite reach the top of the debris wall, but that was fine. The splatter at the end was going everywhere and lighting up the corpses the previous waves had left behind.

The other cats joined in, a few of them jumping on to the barricade, then over to the other side.

“Right, I’m going to push,” I said. I stepped onto the barricade, then over it. “Can you get those mortar teams firing faster?”

Certainly.

“Cat, why are you pushing?” Gomorrah asked.

I paused. “I don’t know. Feels like the right thing to do?” I said.

“At least let me come with you. You’ll just get yourself killed,” Gomorrah said.

“I think I’ll stay back here. Not one to cower much, but I’m not equipped for that kinda fighting yet,” Jimothy said.

I checked back to the tower where he was holding up, then gave him a thumb’s up. “No problem. Watch the skies for us, would you?”

“Will do, ma’am.”

Gomorrah vaulted over the hip-high wall covering her section, then she casually walked through the flames, only pausing when an alien jumped out from under a corpse. She met it boot-first, shoved it into the ground, then levelled her flamethrower at it and cooked it.

“You ready?” I asked as I joined her more or less between our two sections. I pumped my shotgun, the satisfying krack-clung and humming glow making me feel a bit better about... I wasn’t sure if this counted as a plan or not.

“Let’s just peek over the wall, light some of them on fire, then back off if things get too hot for us to handle,” Gomorrah suggested.

I nodded once. “Sure,” I agreed.

As we started to stomp our way to the front, another wave crested the barricade. My new F.E.L.I.N.E. units met it with hissing flames. Even with my armour on, I could feel the temperature rising. Sweat was matting my hair down against my forehead.

I stepped up the wall of debris, finding purchase carefully between mangled corpses. Behind us, the PMCs and volunteer defenders were stuttering their fire, only taking out the aliens that weren’t too close to us. Those that came close to Gomorrah and I didn’t stay a problem for long.

With my free hand gripping the edge of the wall, I pulled myself up, then looked over.

“Mother of fuck,” I swore.

The city was full. Every street was crammed with aliens. Most of the space was taken up by smaller ones, but larger models stood out everywhere I cared to look, a lot of them in their tens. I swore again when I saw some of those big artillery models near the back, and a few of those mobile hive units were shoving their way into the sides of buildings.

They’d have the entire place infested in a matter of hours. How long before they started making fresh aliens right here?

There was some breathing room just on the other side of the wall, space where the aliens gathered up for another charge.

“We’re going to need bigger guns,” I said. “And a lot more fire.”

I winced as shells came raining out of the sky. Explosions burst apart against the sides of buildings and some went off right on top of the antithesis. Huge balls of fire and churned up alien chunks.

The gaps they left were filled long before the dust cleared.

I glanced back. Our barrier in the gap didn’t look so strong compared to what was coming. What were a few thousand people and a hundred-odd tanks going to do against so god-damn many warm aliens?

“Myalis, you know that second tier with the exotic explosives? I think we’re going to need it pretty bad right about now.”

“We’re going to need more than a few bombs and some fire,” Gomorrah said.

We both ducked as one of those big artillery models flung a spinning wheel our way. It rumbled past, used the edge of the debris wall as a ramp, then exploded a few metres from the edge of the barricade.

“We’ll figure something out,” I said. I think I might have sounded more confident than I felt. “That, or we’ll die trying.”

***