Despite all evidence to the contrary, Jason had been kind of hoping that he’d be watching this battle from the relative safety of Puta’s command vehicle.

No such luck, he thought grimly as checked the charge on his rifle one last time.

No, instead of being safe behind the main battleline, he was stuck in an APC barreling straight toward the enemy.

Around him he could hear the absent shuffling of 3rd squad as they performed their own last minute equipment checks. Hell, he could practically smell the nervousness in the air despite the filters in his helmet.

Either way, the only person present – besides Yaro and Nora – who didn’t seem ready to shit their britches at the first sign of trouble was 3rd squad’s grizzled Shil’vati Sergeant.

“Well, aren’t we a lucky bunch!” the woman practically roared over squad comms. “Your first battle and you get to go into it with the Champion leading the way!”

The responding cheer from the group, as all eyes shifted in Jason’s direction, was more nervous than enthusiastic – but at least the woman’s words did seem to buoy some moods.

She looked ready to continue on, before suddenly straightening in her seat, hand moving to press against the side of her helmet. Though he couldn’t help but note that at no point did her hand leave the grip of her weapon as she did so.

“Get ready to dismount,” the woman said suddenly, all previous joviality gone. Instead, it had been replaced by a hard-nosed steeliness. “Remember, as soon as you’re out, move behind the tank in front of us. We’ll be using it as mobile cover until we close range. So let it do the work for us and keep your heads down until it’s our time to peel out. All we need to do is keep an eye out for anyone trying to flank the armored advance while we move up.”

It was nothing they hadn’t been drilled on before, but Jason felt it served as a healthy reminder.

“ARCATS firing,” Puta’s calm baritone came over the comms- an act that reminded Jason that Shil’vati didn’t much care for artillery. Which was good, because he doubted unguided ballistics would end well for anyone in this kind of wind.

…Or perhaps it would, because he knew less than nothing about ballistics.

Apparently they didn’t have much of an issue with missiles though. Perhaps it was just considered a little less crude than artillery?

Either way, he had to resist the urge to wince as the combined sound of dozens of rockets exploding nearly simultaneously rocked the APC.

“Missiles ineffective,” Dobry’s voice came over the comms. “Interdiction systems confirmed.”

“Confirmed,” Puta responded, just a hint of frustration in her tone. “Looks like we’re doing this the hard way.”

Suddenly the APC juddered to a halt, pressing Jason against his harness.

“Move!” the Sergeant yelled as the APCs rear ramp slid open.

Those closest to the door peeled out first, barely a second's hesitation in their motions before their training took hold. It was hardly a few seconds before Jason himself was following Nora into the rain outside, followed only by Yaro and the squad’s mechanical auto-turox.

It was chaos outside as sheets of rain poured down on them, twisting and turning this way and that with the wind. The rocky ground was slick with water and every now and then the crackle of thunder would cut through the cacophony of moving vehicles and pop-pop of laser fire.

Still, for all that it seemed without purpose, there was a method to the madness. 3rd Company’s APCs were arranged in a checkerboard pattern with 2nd Company’s tanks. Which meant that even as 3rd squad piled out of their transport, they were covered from fire from the front either by their own APC or the tanks just ahead of them.

“Move it, kids!” Squad three’s Sergeant roared.

Jason wasted no time in gathering with the rest of 3rd squad as they moved forward to press in behind the tank to the right, just as squads around them all did the same. Then, at some unseen signal, the tanks started rolling forward and the squad needed to jog to keep up with the massive rolling behemoth that was their only source of cover in the barren, rocky landscape.

By contrast, the APCs remained in place, the less heavily armored vehicles content to act as a rearguard now that they’d delivered their payloads.

As they moved up,Jason tried not to dwell on the near constant crackle of shots hitting the tank ahead of him, and flipped a switch on his wrist. Almost instantly, a feed from the front camera on the tank ahead of him popped to life in the top right of his HUD.

It was a real laser light show. The tanks' secondary and primary weapon systems were lighting up the small cratered barricade that marked the outer wall of the Roach base. With the distances involved, it was near impossible to make out the foe as anything more than indistinct blurs on the camera, but that was all that was needed for the tank’s gunners. His HUD helpfully displayed allied fire as bright blue beams, while the enemy's return fire was in red.

Not that it was really needed, if Jason were totally honest.

Normally the beams fired by Shil’vati – and assumedly every other race’s - weapons were invisible. That wasn’t the case here, though. With all the rain around, Jason’s bare eyes would have been able to see how each shot ripped through the air - as every raindrop that passed through a shot's path was instantly vaporized, exploding into gouts of steam.

Truth be told, it was rather spectacular.

Loud too, he thought.

Normally the guns were all but silent, but the battlefield was alive with the sound of exploding raindrops and metal cracking as it was superheated by repeated impacts. An unwelcome sound, given that Jason was hiding behind one of said pieces of metal.

It only served to drive home in his mind why Shil’vati didn’t really have a true distinction between anti-personnel and anti-tank weaponry. Even their lowliest rifle could pierce through most armor given enough time.

Of course, despite his melodrama on the subject, he knew that realistically he was perfectly safe where he was. With this kind of firepower, the Roaches would need to keep firing for a good hour or more to finally create an opening in the tank’s hull.

An hour or so that the tankers of 2nd Company had no intention of providing, as their hulls continued to eat up the distance between them and the Roach base. All the while, automated and user-controlled weapon systems swiveled left and right, picking off any targets that presented themselves.

They were now actually close enough that Jason could see puffs of bluish vapor and yellow sparks exploding into the air whenever the large-caliber weapons found purchase in an enemy combatant.

Of course, that was the moment something that definitely wasn’t Human-sized burst out of the cave, followed by a number of its brethren.

“Enemy is launching exos,” Dobry’s voice came over the comms, cool as a cucumber.

“Acknowledged,” Puta responded in kind.

While Jason had seen plenty of images of what they might expect in dozens of briefings and info packets, he still found himself taken aback by the sight of the enemy machines as they zipped toward the tanks.

Built like some kind of deranged mechanical octopus, the Roach Exos were deceptively graceful as they rocketed through the air.

Nimble, too, Jason thought, as he saw one making use of a mixture of its anti-grav drives, small maneuvering thrusters, and the occasional tentacle skimming along the ground to jink around incoming fire. All the while a trio of independently aiming turrets mounted on the bulbous ‘heads’ of the mechs fired a constant stream of laser beams in the tank’s direction.

He was momentarily distracted from the display by the sound of a strangled cry of pain. Looking back, he could see 3rd squad’s sergeant dragging back one of her squad members as the man clutched painfully at a steaming gash on his forearm.

“Singh, you fucking idiot,” the woman hissed. “Turox, get the fuck over here.”

Instantly, the four legged baggage drone was ambling over, allowing the Shil’vati woman to pull something from the machine's many packs. Can of burn-foam in hand, she turned and liberally dosed the area Singh had been hit in.

“I told you to stay behind the fucking tank! Not get shot trying to take potshots!”

Seeing the situation was well in hand, and that there was nothing he could contribute, Jason turned his attention back to the situation ahead of them.

Which wasn’t looking too great. The turrets on the tanks were trying to track the fast-moving exos, but they couldn’t seem to get a bead on them.

“Shluha vokzal’naja,” Dobry cursed over the comms, a hint of frustration leaking into his tone.

Despite himself, Jason couldn’t help but wonder if the man was having a flashback to fighting exos back on Earth.

Fortunately for him, and the strike force as a whole, the tanks didn’t just have large weapons. Imperial tanks might have ultimately been replaced by exos, but for a time they had been designed to fight them. The multitude of small anti-personnel turrets mounted on the vehicles' hulls locked on as automated computer systems correctly identified the incoming targets.

A situation that had seemed increasingly close to disaster was reversed in an instant, as the tanks' superior firepower and armor became telling. One exo failed to jink at the correct moment and was filleted by three different beams of blue light, crashing to the ground in a shower of sparks and blue flames. Then another. And another.

The enemy craft fired back, but they had little effect on the tanks. Which only made sense. The Roach exos had been equipped for either infantry or exos. Small, nimble targets.

Not heavy armor plating.

Of course, normally, seeing they were outgunned, an exo force would use their superior speed to retreat. Something they could easily do. Leaving their much slower attackers exposed to an orbital strike.

“But that’s not possible on Raknos-Three,” Jason muttered to himself with a sort of grim satisfaction that momentarily surprised him.

Something the leader of the Roach Exo Squadron clearly realized too. Though how they responded to that realization surprised Jason.

They pressed the attack.

“Stop them before they get amongst us!” Dobry shouted over the comms, instantly realizing the enemy’s plans.

It was a suicidal maneuver. Most of the exos that tried to charge them would be cut down, and even those that made it wouldn’t last long. Sure, having the fast-moving mechs get between the tanks would limit their firing options, but it would only delay the inevitable.

But they’d be able to hurt us in that time, Jason realized.

Which was apparently all the Roach commander was concerned with apparently.

Fortunately, they made a mistake. They jumped high. Perhaps it was an attempt to get outside the tanks firing arcs, or perhaps it was just an instinctive reaction. Either way, the entire unit jumped as one.

Exposing themselves to not just an entire company of infantry that had been hidden behind the tanks, but the APCs that had been sitting back on overwatch.

And while the tanks of the Terran First were quite outdated by modern Imperial standards, their transports were not – including their weapon systems.

The Roach Exos were utterly perforated in moments as their foolish maneuver had them momentarily exposed to every weapon in the strike force. A few soldiers had to actively dive out of the way as the burning hulks of the machines finally slammed into the ground.

Jason watched the machines burn for half a second, before realizing that he couldn’t hear any more shooting.

“Exos eliminated,” Dobry’s voice came over the comms, a certain satisfaction in his tone. “No more combatants visible at primary target, either. All tanks' frontal armor reads as green or yellow.”

“Confirmed,” Puta responded. “Continue the advance.”

“Tank three is reporting that it is immobilized,” another voice came down the line. “Piece of shit wheel’s come off.”

“Maintain comm discipline,” Puta barked. “Issue is acknowledged. Squad three will maintain security around tank three while the rest of the task force continues to advance.”

“Acknowledged.”

Putting words to action, the tanks continued their advance, infantry following behind them.

As they did, Jason found himself glancing at HUD. It had barely been three minutes between the first shot being fired and now.

Behind him, another Marine popped their head out to glance ahead. It wasn’t Singh, as the injured marine was gingerly sticking to the centre of the formation. No, it was a woman this time.

“Get your ass back behind the tank, Lacey.” The sergeant yelled. “Roaches like to-”

Jason had no idea what Roaches might like to do, but he could take a guess as a shot crackled through the air, leaving a burst of steaming vapor in its wake. It hit Lacey full in the chest, eliciting a surprised grunt from the woman, before she stepped back behind cover.

Almost instantly, every tank in the area pounded the area the shot had come from into dust. It was only after a good ten seconds of uninterrupted shooting that they apparently decided that whatever had fired was dead, and the advance continued.

“Both you and Singh are going to be on latrine duty for a week after this,” the Sergeant roared as they kept jogging. “You’re supposed to be trained Marines, for goddess' sake! That means that discipline shouldn’t be going to shit the moment lasers start flying.”

Lacy nodded absently at the woman’s words, but it was obvious to everyone that the human was more focused on the large grey splotch that had bloomed across her chest.

Which Jason didn’t exactly blame her for. Knowing that you’d be dead if it weren’t for the armor you were wearing was a decent way of reminding someone of their own mortality.

Finally, all the tanks came to a stop.

“Infantry, peel out and secure the area.” Puta commanded.

Having finished lambasting her Marines, Squad three’s sergeant turned to him. “Champion, seeing as though my squad has turned into a bunch of careless amateurs overnight, would you care to do the honors?”

Surprised at the request, Jason suddenly realized that all were eyes on him. And while the masks that covered the faces of everyone present made it hard to tell, he could well imagine the nervousness present in many of the boots' expressions.

So he just sighed, before straightening up.

“Gladly,” he lied.

Before Yaro or Nora could speak, he stepped out.

No shots rang out from the shattered and half-melted barricades in front of him. Feeling Yaro following behind him, he continued his advance, cautiously watching for any sign of movement.

All around him, other squads were doing the same as they moved from cover to cover. Stepping up to the barricades, he was momentarily amazed by how much they’d been warped and twisted by weapons fire. Some parts were still glowing cherry red and steaming in the rain.

I wonder if this was what it was like on Earth, he momentarily wondered, before dismissing the thought in favor of focusing on the task at hand.

Though he needn’t have bothered. It was abundantly clear as Marines fanned out across the small base that everything present was dead.

As evidenced by the bodies strewn all over the place, Jason thought as he glanced at the nearest corpse.

It was his first time seeing an Ulnus in the ‘flesh’ - if not alive.

They really did look like insects. Shaped roughly like Yaro, with hunched shoulders and reverse-jointed legs, the aliens were covered in a dull grey carapace that blended well with the rocks around them. They had no mouth or nose, but possessed a dozen compound eyes, grouped in three on each side of their head.

What was most interesting to him though, was the fact that all the corpses present held not one, but two weapons. One in each hand. Which, combined with what he’d read about – and seen with the exos earlier – suggested to him that the Roach ability to multitask was no exaggeration.

Apparently they were more than capable of tracking and firing on two different targets independently. Which made flanking them a trickier proposition than it would be in just about any other species.

Of course, he also knew from the briefings he’d received on the subject that the Roaches weren’t actually insects.

That was just how the suits looked.

No, if he really wanted to see the real body of a Roach, he need only look at the blue goop that even now, was pooling under his boot.

Given that the natural form of a Roach was actually more akin to that of an amoeba.

A shape-shifting amoeba, he thought.

A single ‘Roach’ was apparently barely big enough to fill a teaspoon. Which meant that every body he was looking at out here was actually an entire hive of the aliens, joined together to pilot a semi-organic battlesuit.

Fairly fascinating, if he was honest, but unfortunately his briefings on the aliens had not lingered long on their physical morphology.

No, it had predominantly been on how to kill them.

Which was harder than one might think. Being a hive of creatures joined together, they didn’t have a brain, heart or lungs. A shot to the body was about as deadly as a shot to the foot.

Of course, on the flipside, a shot to the foot could be deadly for the aliens, when together, they were like a hivemind. Closer to a single intelligent entity than a collection of barely sapient individuals. Like a dozen computers linked together to share networking power. Which also meant that any injury a Roach sustained wasn’t entirely different from being shot in the brain.

A Marine didn’t need to kill all the Roaches in a suit to render it inert. They just needed to cause enough bodily harm that the network ‘crashed’. The feedback from suddenly losing a quarter of its ‘hive’ would invariably kill the rest of the aliens in a manner not unlike giving someone a stroke.

“Alright, easy part’s over,” 3rd squad’s Sergeant said, jostling him from his thoughts. “Everything out here is dead. Which means we can move onto the fun bit. Flushing them out of that cave.”

Jason glanced at the opening in question, which suddenly seemed a bit more ominous than it had before.