Code 647E

Prologue: The Fortnight War

"Get the hell up! You want to die in this mud, marine?" Sargeant Darling barked as Private Harris slowly pulled himself back to his feet, clutching his assault rifle tightly as he stumbled forwards and into cover against the rocks. He heard another piercing cry that got suddenly cut off and looked to the right of him just in time to watch Corporal Hawkins face get burnt away by the searing green ball, the mans huge arms flailing around wildly for a few moments longer before falling limply to the side of his body as it collapsed into the dirt below.

The smell of roasted flesh rose to his nostrils and made his stomach turn. It wad a smell he had encountered much too often in the past fortnight, mixed with the stench of death and human vapours that emanated from the soldiers, their clothes stuck against their flesh with the glue of their sweat.

There was a brutish roar from his left and her turned sharply again, whimpering as he watched Private First Class Henderson fire hopelessly at a towering eight foot behemoth with arms as thick as Hendersons body, clad from head to toe in thick red armour with two glowing yellow slits for vision in the helmet. The bullets didn't even pierce the armour but either bounced harmlessly from it or embedded themselves in it. And then...

Click. Click. Click

Hendersons angry expression suddenly changed to terror. The monstrosity before him seized upon the chance before Henderson had a chance to react, letting a grunt as if to declare that it was his turn to attack before swinging its massive fist and, with a sickening tear, sending Hendersons head flying clean from his body, a fountain of blood spurting from the exposed neck. The head arced through the air and landed at Harris feet, the entire right side caved in, the chit of bones jutting out of the bloody mess at his feet making him sick to his stomach. The headless body stood up for a moment before falling to its knees and then into the mud with an unceremonious squelch, the brown mud around it mixing with the crimson blood that leaked from its neck.

"Here's one for ya!" Sargeant Darling yelled as he tossed a hand grenade at the alien monster which turned to regard him a moment too late, its eyes catching sight of the grenade shortly before detonation. The explosion consumed the behemoths upper body and sent shrapnel flying in every direction... yet when the fiery explosion subsided it was still standing. It seemed momentarily stunned and it's armour had a large crack running from its shoulder down to its left thigh, but it was still very much alive... And very much a threat. It raised its own bulky alien weapon to take aim at them. Darling fumbled to raise his own rifle in time while Harris just stood rooted to the spot with fear.

Then there was another great bang and suddenly there was a giant explosion before them, which subsided and revealed the legs of the beast with its torso torn off and hanging by its damaged spine, a huge gaping hole through its armour. Darling lept backwards instinctively as a voice called out to them

"You two getting out of that ditch or what?!" In this moment, Harris could not have hoped to hear a better voice. It belonged to Lieutenant Alice Monroe... And she commanded an entire tank column. Harris looked up towards her and smiled upon seeing her. Never had he thought he would be happy to see Lieutenant Monroe and her missing nose. Perhaps it was just his mind warping the scene in his confusion but she seemed more heroic than anyone else he'd seen before in his life, her battered gloves resting on the titanium, her helmets visor up to show her determined ice blue eyes. Her expression was one of sheer conviction and projected an aura of confidence; If anyone could lead what was left of the 33rd to victory, Harris was sure it would be her

She waved her hand at them, signalling for them to get up the ridge and join her forces before she popped down and out of sight, disappearing into the metal coffin. The two weary Marines quickly mounted the ridge, stumbling up the stone and slipping on the mud that was wet with both rain water and blood. Harris could hear Darling whispering thanks to god as he did, slowly loading another magazine into his rifle and placing the half spent one onto the other section of his utility belt. It was common sense to keep your half spent clips separate to your full ones, otherwise you might find yourself out of bullets at a very inconvenient moment like Henderson had...