Fields of Speranza

The Spear of Defiance collided with the surface of Artemis, tearing through the rocky terrain as it skidded to a violent halt, smoke billowing from the wreckage. 

"Samuel! SAMUEL! SAMUEL!"

A voice echoed through the haze, pulling Samuel back to reality. His head throbbed, and he felt the weight of his body pressed against something cold and unforgiving. He groaned, feeling like he'd just been run over by a starship.

"Ahh, crap... my back feels like it went through the grinder," Samuel muttered, wincing as he tried to sit up. The ship's cabin was a mess—twisted metal, sparks, and the lingering scent of burnt wiring.

A hand reached down to him, and he grabbed it instinctively, hoisting himself up.

"You sure made a hell of a getaway there," Harold said with a smirk, though his voice was strained, and his face was covered in dirt and blood. He looked almost as worse for wear as Samuel felt.

Samuel steadied himself, shaking his head to clear the fog from his mind. "How are the men looking?" he asked, voice hoarse.

Harold sighed, his gaze flickering over to the scattered crew members, some already tending to the wounded, others dazed from the crash. "The boys aren't in the best of shape. Lots of bruises, cuts, and a couple of broken limbs. But they're alive, and that's what counts."

Samuel looked around, taking in the wreckage. The Spear of Defiance had taken a brutal hit, but they had made it. Barely.

Samuel gave a grim nod, his jaw tightening as he processed Harold's words. He turned toward another part of the cabin. "Nobu! Are your boys holding up?"

Nobu was kneeling near a makeshift triage area, blood trickling from a gash above his temple. He was patching up another soldier when Samuel's question reached him. Rising slowly, Nobu wiped his hands on his already bloodstained armor.

"Not good," Nobu admitted, his voice heavy with exhaustion. "Half my squad was in Type-70 Naginata armor. You know that stuff—it's lightweight but can't handle a beating like this. Most of my men are injured, some critically." He paused, his gaze shifting to a somber corner of the cabin.

Samuel followed his line of sight. Three bodies were lined up neatly on the floor, each covered with makeshift shrouds. One of them still clutched a communication device in his hand, fingers frozen in their final act of duty.

Nobu's voice dropped, almost a whisper. "We lost the Data Interpreter. He was still trying to get through to Command when it happened."

Samuel felt a pang in his chest as he approached the fallen soldiers. He knelt down by the first body, his expression grim but resolute. One by one, he collected their dog tags, his movements slow and deliberate, as though he was paying his final respects with every action.

"May you rest in peace," he murmured under his breath, his voice laced with quiet reverence. He gently closed each of their eyes, his hands steady despite the weight of grief.

Rising to his full height, Samuel turned back to Nobu and Harold, his demeanor shifting. His voice was sharp and commanding, cutting through the heavy air. "Alright. We regroup. Tend to the wounded, get everyone on their feet. We're not done yet—not by a long shot."

He then turned his attention to Harold, pointing firmly at the communication terminal, which was sputtering with faint static but still operational. "Harold, get me the Commander of the mech division on the line. We'll need his support to haul the wounded to a tending barracks. If that signal is jammed, then find a way around it. We don't have time to waste."

Harold nodded, already moving toward the terminal. "On it, Captain."

Samuel exhaled deeply, steadying himself before stepping toward the hatch. As the doors groaned open, the harsh light of Artemis spilled inside. He squinted, his eyes adjusting as he stepped out onto the planet's surface.

The sight that greeted him stopped him in his tracks.

"This... doesn't look like what the briefing said." Samuel's voice carried an edge of disbelief as he took in the landscape. What was supposed to be a lush, mountainous terrain was nothing but a barren expanse, flattened and devoid of life.

He moved forward, his boots crunching on dry, cracked ground. The eerie silence pressed against him, broken only by the faint whine of the wind. "Was it the Defiance?" he muttered, trying to piece together how the ship's crash could have caused such devastation.

But then he saw them.

"What the..." Samuel froze, his gaze fixed on the unsettling sight ahead. Scattered across the desolate plain were the remains of countless animals. Their skeletal forms stood eerily upright, frozen in positions of life, as if death had claimed them in an instant. The bones were dry and corroded, as though they had been there for centuries, yet their arrangement suggested they had died just moments ago.

A chill ran down his spine.

Samuel instinctively reached for his comms, his voice firm but tinged with unease. "Ah, Nobu, you getting this?"

Static crackled in response for a moment before Nobu's voice came through, strained but audible. "Loud and clear, Captain. What am I supposed to be looking at?"

"Get out here and see for yourself," Samuel said, his tone grim. "This place... something's not right. It's like—" He hesitated, his eyes scanning the horizon again, "—like death swept through here."

Nobu appeared moments later, stepping cautiously out of the hatch. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of the skeletal remains. He knelt by one of the figures, inspecting it closely.

"Captain..." Nobu said, his voice low, "This didn't happen naturally. Look at the corrosion. It's not decay—it's something else. And it's recent."

Samuel's jaw tightened as he surveyed the scene. His mind raced with possibilities, each more unsettling than the last. He turned back toward the ship, his voice now urgent.

"Harold, get those comms online now! We need answers, and we need them fast."

Samuel stood rigid for a moment, his mind spinning. The desolation before him wasn't just strange—it was unnatural. 

Harold's voice crackled through the comms. "Give me a few more minutes, Captain. Looks like the old school tech systems on the Defiance managed to skirt most of the interference. I'm almost through."

Samuel nodded, though his gaze remained fixed on the skeletal remains. "Good. We need a full uplink ASAP. Whatever happened here... I don't want us facing it blind."

The brittle crunch beneath his boots as he took another. The ground felt lifeless, as if the very soul of the planet had been stripped away. His thoughts returned to the briefing, the promises of green hills and towering peaks. None of it matched the reality before him.

He glanced toward Nobu, who was still crouched over one of the skeletal figures. The warrior was studying it with a meticulous eye, his fingers brushing over the corroded surface of the bones.

"Captain," Nobu called again, his tone darker now. "These... these aren't just remains. They're something else. It's as if the very structure of the matter's been... destabilized. This corrosion isn't natural. And if it's recent, whatever caused it—"

"might still be here," Samuel finished grimly, the weight of the thought pressing down on him.

Nobu stood, his posture tense, his hand instinctively resting on the hilt of his blade. "I suggest we proceed with extreme caution. This isn't a crash site—it's a graveyard."

Samuel's comms crackled again. "Captain," Harold's voice broke through, strained but urgent, "I've managed to stabilize the connection. Still can't get a direct line to Command, but I'm pulling some local readings. You're not gonna like this..."

"Spit it out, Harold," Samuel snapped, his patience fraying.

"There's a field," Harold replied. "Something massive and artificial, stretching miles across the region. It's faint but active, like a dampener of some kind. That might explain why the terrain's so... off. And why everything out here looks like it got hit by a wave of time and rot all at once."

Samuel clenched his jaw, his mind racing to process the new information. "Can you pinpoint the source of this field?"

"Not yet, Captain, but it's close. Too close for comfort."

Samuel turned to Nobu, who was already scanning the horizon. "We need to figure out what's going on here, fast. Harold, keep working on the comms and that field data. Nobu, double-check your gear and get the rest of your squad prepped. We're moving out by 5"

"Yes, sir," Nobu replied, his tone steady as he stood and began signaling to his squad, who were already patching themselves up and preparing their gear despite their battered state.

The silence of Artemis stretched, heavy and foreboding, as Samuel turned his gaze back toward the endless, flattened expanse. 

The uneasy stillness of Artemis shattered without warning. The ground beneath them began to rumble, a low, ominous vibration that grew stronger with every passing second. Samuel's heart skipped a beat as the faint trembling turned into a quake.

"Harold, get me a sit-rep, NOW!" Samuel barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.

Harold's panicked reply crackled over the comms. "The... the thing—it's starting to build up power! All the energy around us is spiking like crazy—it's charging rapidly!"

He frantically tapped at his console, his fingers flying as he tried to stabilize the data on his screens. The interference was relentless, but Harold pieced together enough to deliver a grim report.

"Captain, I've never seen anything like this. If it releases that energy, it'll make the jump drive blast look like a firecracker!"

Samuel spun toward Nobu, who was already bracing himself against the quaking ground. "Nobu! No time for deliberation—we've got to act now! Get all the shield generators and set them up in front of the squad, now!"

"Yes, sir!" Nobu snapped, immediately turning to his men. "You heard the Captain! Move! Bring every portable shield generator we have and set up a defense line!"

The squad sprang into action, their training overriding fear. They hauled the shield generators from their gear, working quickly as the rumbling intensified. The ground cracked, releasing faint pulses of glowing energy that danced along the fissures like veins of light.

Harold's voice cut in again, strained but clear. "Captain, the energy source isn't just random—it's focused. Whatever's causing this... it's directly under us!"

Samuel's jaw clenched as he watched his crew struggle to set up the shields against an enemy they couldn't yet see. His mind raced, calculating their next move.

"Harold, keep scanning! Nobu, once those shields are up, I want everyone behind them and ready for anything. We're not going down without a fight!"

The tremors turned into violent quakes, and the glowing fissures began to widen, a blinding light emanating from deep within the planet's crust.

"Brace yourselves!" Samuel shouted. "It's coming!"

WOOOOSHHHHH BOOOOMMMMMM!

The blast slammed into the shield generators with a deafening roar. The shockwave rippled outward, shaking the ground and forcing everyone to their knees. The air carried a putrid stench of rancid corrosion and decay, assaulting their senses. It wasn't just the smell, though—it felt wrong, like something sickly and unnatural had seeped into the very fabric of the planet.

The blast wasn't blinding, like most energy weapons. Instead, it was a dull, lifeless hue, almost like staring into the milky, dead eyes of a fish. It crept toward them with a sluggish, oppressive force, sapping the vitality out of everything in its path.

The shield generators held—but only just. The outer edges flickered violently, the shimmering barriers struggling against the corrosive force that clawed at them.

"What in darn tarnation was that?" Natan blurted, his voice cutting through the tense silence as he struggled to steady himself.

"Idk, mate," a soldier from the Churchill squad replied, his voice tinged with unease. "Sure seems like a eldritch abomination to me."

"Ah, guys... I think I saw something move," one of the younger soldiers muttered,

Samuel turned sharply, his eyes narrowing

The soldier pointed with a shaky hand. The skeletons, once eerily still, now twitched. Small, unnatural jerks at first, like marionettes being manipulated by an unseen force. Then, slowly, they began to crawl.

Then it happened.

The bones snapped into place with an audible CRUNCH, and the skeletons rose to their feet in a grotesque, unnatural motion. One of them tilted its skull toward the squad, the hollow sockets seeming to burn with a faint, malevolent glow. Without warning, it bolted, sprinting toward them with terrifying speed.

"OPEN FIRE!" Samuel roared

The first shots rang out, plasma rounds slicing through the air and into the skeletal figure's ribcage. The bones shattered into fragments, but instead of crumbling to the ground, the fragments began to writhe. They moved as though alive, snapping together with other scattered remains to form grotesque new shapes.

A chain reaction began—one skeleton's destruction triggered the merging of others. Soon, a mass of bones twisted and morphed, growing into something larger and more monstrous with every passing second.

"CHURCHILL SQUAD, TO THE FRONT!" Samuel bellowed over the commotion, his voice steady despite the rising chaos.

"AYE, CAPTAIN!" the squad roared in unison, their voices reverberating through the battlefield.

The Churchill Squad's TN-150 battle armors roared to life. The massive, super-heavy exosuits were designed for defensive warfare, each a walking tank equipped with reinforced plating and devastating firepower. Their boots slammed into the ground as they moved into position, forming an impenetrable wall of steel and resolve.

"Here comes the heat!" their squad leader shouted, his voice brimming with adrenaline. "LIGHT THEM UP, BOYS!"

With a mechanical hiss, the sides of the TN-150 suits slid open, revealing an arsenal of weaponry. Miniature missile pods, rotary plasma cannons, and auto-turrets emerged, locking onto the advancing horde of skeletal abominations.

The battlefield erupted in chaos.

WHIRRRRR-BOOOM!

Missiles streaked through the air, detonating in massive bursts of light and force that shattered the bone constructs. Plasma rounds tore through the horde, disintegrating anything in their path. The suits held their ground, their firepower relentless and precise, each operator working in perfect synchronicity.

"Captain!" Nobu called over the comms, his voice strained. "It's working—but whatever that energy was, it's still affecting the skeletons. They're reforming faster than we can drop them!"

Samuel cursed under his breath. "Keep firing! Harold, status on those damn comms?"

"I'm close!" Harold shouted, frantically typing at the console. "But we need a distraction to hold them back longer, or we're toast!"

Samuel's mind raced. They needed a plan—something to disrupt the enemy's regenerative ability and buy time for Harold to get the comms operational.

"Nobu!" he yelled. "Prep the EMP charges! We're going to fry whatever's keeping these things together!"

"On it, Captain!" Nobu responded, already barking orders to his team.

The Churchill Squad held the line, their suits blazing with fire and fury every shot a burst of fury that pushed the skeletal monstrosities back—but not enough to stop them. 

"Nobu," Samuel barked, his eyes scanning the shifting battlefield. "Naginatas. Now."

Without hesitation, Nobu nodded, his face hidden behind the dark, polished men-yoroi of his armor. The men-yoroi was an ancient piece of battle technology, worn by the elite, and it marked him as a true warrior. With a smooth, almost ritualistic motion, he activated the suit, and its slits closed with a hiss, sealing him inside.

The sleek, deadly form of his Type-70 Naginata armor was a perfect contrast to the massive TN-150s. While the Churchill Squad's hulking tanks fired indiscriminately, Nobu and his team would operate with a far more nimble approach.

A long plasma spear extended from the arm of his suit, its tip sharp and glowing with deadly energy. The slanted plasma cutter at its end was a weapon of precision, capable of cutting through the bone constructs with surgical accuracy.

"IKKEEEE!" Nobu called out, his voice a battle cry that echoed through the chaos.

With that, Nobu and his team of Type-70 warriors surged forward, their jump jets firing as they rocketed into the fray. They moved like shadows, darting across the battlefield with an agility that defied the chaos around them. The light and swift suits allowed them to dodge and weave through the horde, their bodies a blur as they sliced through the skeletal army with precision strikes.

The plasma cutters of their naginatas flared brightly as they met bone and corrupted energy, cutting down the enemy with each thrust and slash. Nobu was everywhere at once—his armor's agility allowing him to strike from unexpected angles, his plasma spear tearing through the enemy with graceful efficiency.

Behind them, the Churchill Squad continued to hold the line, laying down heavy fire to suppress the enemy's numbers. The air was thick with smoke, the acrid scent of burnt bone and scorched metal choking the very atmosphere. But in the midst of it, the Type-70 armor's agility and precision began to turn the tide, cutting down the regenerating abominations faster than they could be reassembled.

"Keep moving!" Nobu shouted, as he and his team danced through the chaos. "We need to disrupt the core of their formation. Take out the biggest of them!"

Samuel watched with grim satisfaction as the battle began to tip in their favor. But even in this moment of progress, there was something deeply unsettling in the air. Whatever force was animating these skeletal horrors wasn't done yet.

"Harold, status on the comms?" Samuel barked, his eyes never leaving the battlefield.

I'm not a supercomputer, Captain! After this mission, a vacation!" Harold's voice crackled through the comms, a mix of sarcasm and fatigue.

Samuel couldn't help but chuckle, the sound a brief break from the tension. "Think fast!" he called back, his voice sharpening.

Without hesitation, Samuel steadied his aim, focusing on the massive skeletal structure that had reanimated before him. He squeezed the trigger.

Bam!

The bullet pierced through four layers of bone, splintering and shattering the skeletal structure before it dropped, a mammoth corpse crumbling lifelessly to the ground.

With a sharp hiss from the comms system, Harold's voice suddenly became clear and urgent. "Captain, I've got the Commander on the line! It's a miracle, but we've got through!"

"Put him through," Samuel ordered, his grip tightening on his weapon as he kept his eyes on the battlefield.

The comm clicked, and the familiar voice of the Commander came through, loud and authoritative. "Captain Samuel, this is Commander Kaelen Stroud. What's your status?"

"We're holding our ground, Commander, but things are getting worse. We've got an energy field emanating from beneath us that's fueling these damn skeletons. We need reinforcements and extraction, NOW." Samuel's voice was sharp, cutting through the tension.

"Understood, Captain. We're sending Alpha squad to your locations. Get your men ready. Stay on the comm, we'll update you when we're en route." The Commander's voice was firm, though there was an underlying tension.

Before Samuel could respond, the ground beneath them rumbled once more. It started as a low tremor but escalated into an intense vibration that seemed to shake the very planet. The air shimmered as if some unseen force was gathering power.

"Harold, what the hell—?" Samuel started, his voice full of alarm.

Harold's voice cracked through the static, frantic. "It's coming! Captain, you need to get your squad ready—there's another massive burst building under us! Brace yourselves!"

But before Samuel could react, the earth buckled with a deafening roar.

WOOOOSHHHHH—BOOOOOMMMMMM!