HELLDIVERS:The Chance Meeting

Prologue:'Bots Everywhere

Malevelon Creek

17th of February

In the deep darkness of a jungle world, covered in layers of fog and thick, sprawling vegetation that would make the Last Rainforests of Super Earth seem like mere fields in comparison, amidst the photosynthesis-devoid, almost jet-black plants and the pods of glowing flora and dancing Fauna, the continuous chatter of Gunfire filled the air. Scarlet tracers danced in the night, alongside the thundering roar of massive anti-air batteries firing into the heavens. Destroyers of the SEAF hanged above, an armada of hundreds, raining their own hell down on the planet from their under-belly cannons.

Overhead, an EAGLE Flight pilot dropped the payload on their fighter-bomber amidst the thick brush. Several dozen bombs landed in a straight line, meeting the oncoming threat hidden in the fog with high-explosive, Democratic might. Still, it wasn't enough to slow the enemy down from their advance. Two Helldiver squads, ten men and women that defended the Liberty of humanity, fired their weapons in greeting into the Fog.

They fired at bright-scarlet eyes, eyes that burned with hatred. Robotic, modified voices groaned, but continued advancing like an unstoppable tide toward the two squads, their weapons barking and spitting out malevolent scarlet bolts at the group. First in line were almost two platoons'-worth of the Automatons' cannon fodder units:The Troopers. They advanced, the skeletal frames appearing through the fog as if they were menacing, undead gun-wielding silhouettes of Ghosts.

The leading Helldiver of the squad, 22-year-old Sergeant Alessia Veratti, poked out and fired with her AR-23 at the advancing enemy force, peering down the scope. She aimed for headshots on the Troopers, engaging them with fury in her eyes and her love for Democracy keeping her iron will going. Beside her, four Space Cadets and five other Cadets engaged with automatic fire.

She ducked and swore to herself as a round skimmed the top of her helmet, then yelled out, "CHANGING MAG!" as she dropped the spent magazine from her weapon and into the underbrush. The plastic mag's clink barely registered amidst the flurry of gunfire. She knelt as she reloaded, then looked at the tacpad on her arm and spoke, "Keep your heads down! I'm calling in another bombing run!"

"Roger!" One of the troopers replied, firing his Stalwart Machine Gun at the enemy. White tracers spat out of the maw of the weapon, the woman in charge of the platoon hit the commands and radioed, "This is BLACK 2-ACTUAL, requesting Airstrike on my Beacon! Make it snappy, Eagle-1!" only to hear an affirmative reply from the female pilot. Overhead, the air asset engaged in its bombing run, the payload scrambling across the wide area of the jungle ahead, tearing through trees and the surface, digging deep craters and killing a chunk of the enemy's troops.

Alessia ducked again, another shit snapping just over her head. Then another struck her arm, burrowing a hole through the armor and hurting her. She swore, "FUCK!" before sliding down the thick trunk of the tree and pulling out her last stim. Sticking it in the right side of her neck, she watched the wound partially heal as the medicine acted quickly, then drew her rifle again and poked out.

She saw tracers lighting the night sky, one of the allied fighter-bombers overhead exploding and showering the ground with debris in the distance. She checked their objectives and the time frame they had left, before radioing her Destroyer and speaking, "This is Black to Destroyer, DO NOT DISENGAGE UNTIL I SAY SO! We've got the objective completed, but are being pinned down by enemy fire! We should make it to extract in the next five mikes!"

"We'll hold station as long as we can, Sergeant, but you know we can't promise a damn thing..." The Captain replied, voice wary. Damned may she be if she didn't understand. She balled her fist toward her Divers and showed them to move out to the next pieces of cover:The craters left by the bombing runs. Still though, as the first man stood up, he lost his head to a hostile Bot's shot. A Devastator mech stomped its way forward, the giant, heavily armored, black and red-clad machine with twin cannons on its right arm moved forward, chittering deeply in the alien language these machines spoke.