C&C Earth is really pretty up here.
And so ruined.
Clinging onto the back of the inactive Hexapod as we began to accelerate into the atmosphere, the AutoShip's sensors gave me a breathtaking view of the place I'd been calling "home" for the past half week or so. The pale blue horizon of the planet intermixed with the glowing fields of Ichor blanketing the planet, giving it an ethereal aura almost like moonlight. The entirety of Europe spread around us like a neon green sea that almost looked like a well-tended lawn, the Italy region hidden from sight by sweeping brushstrokes of multi-coloured aurorae charged by all the ions in the air, every so often the needle-thin line that was a far-off Ion Cannon satellite stretching down to the surface and eliciting another spectacular burst of colour from the saturated ionosphere.
The "Scrin" part of me sang praises of the vistas of Ichor lining the Earth, while the "Human" part of me regretted its destruction. Something so beautiful being so destructive, killing and scarring billions while looking like something out of Pixiv scenery art. It's kind of sad, isn't it?
Far off into the horizon, Asia glittered in the darkness like a dropped emerald, the sheer density of the crystals there illuminating it even in the absence of sunlight. I wonder if I'd find my house there.
I'm not sure if I even want to.
…let's take a picture before we go, shall we?
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Wicks of flame sprouted all over the Eradicator's hull as it plunged into the atmosphere, the black metal picking up a slight greyish tinge from sparse carbonisation. My AutoShip was latched onto the walker's belly as it descended, using the bulk of the Hexapod as a heatshield as we dropped. Thermal sensors were still reading within safe ranges for the moment, but the Epic Unit I'm clinging onto probably won't survive the trip down.
…hmm, Voice? Can we salvage the Hexxie's core components or something while leaving its hull intact?
[Salvage of the Eradicator Hexapod's processor core and powerplant is possible, Foreman. The Drone Platform's prospecting software estimates that extricating the components with the installed mining module will not puncture the outer hull or compromise structural integrity.]
Nice. Let's hop to it then.
*GRIIIIND-CRRRACK-SQUELCH*
Oh god why.
Without even the slightest whit of decency, the AutoShip's mining subroutines triggered and drove the Harvester module mounted at the base of its hull straight into the underbelly, lashing tentacles sawing furrows into the battered armor plating and grinding whole sections off. Cracking open the Hexapod's outer shell like a cooked lobster, the Harvester module reared back and sunk its talons into the oversized bug-walkers innards and
nopenopeNOPE
What did I ever do to deserve this?!
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*Aliens are preparing, please wait warmly*
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That was an…
experience.
After finishing up on things best not mentioned, the Harvester module finally retracted back into the AutoShip with its prize in its grasp: a bulky, solid sphere with severed tubing dangling all over it and a disturbingly fleshy "brain" the size of a minivan. The bulb-shaped hull unfolded, enveloping the…
things, safely within the hull.
…if I could, a shower would be nice about now. Nobody, I mean nobody, deserves to learn about bug-alien anatomy
in detail.
Aaaaaand I'm feeling sick again. Where's the brain bleach when you need it?
[Warning, environmental temperature increasing to abnormal levels. We are re-entering the atmosphere, caution is advised.]
Ah, looks like we're hitting atmo soon. Better get into my little shell here before I become extra crispy. My AutoShip engaged its "docking" gravity fields and sank into the hollow carved in the Eradicator Hexapod's corpse, the floral-shaped ship crunching and squishing its way through biomechanical debris and cartilage into a snug position like a giant metallic tumour. With a few quick bursts of thrusters to align the Hexapod carcass downwards, I began my descent with improvised heatshield in hand.
[Alert: High-energy reaction detected.]
Eh? High-energy reaction?
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A star shone in the distant horizon, its light growing brighter and brighter at a blisteringly fast rate.
Packed ions hissed in the thin air, an actinic flash announcing the passage of a ultra-high intensity stream of charged particles lancing past the Eradicator, barely brushing one of its legs and speeding off into the distance. The Hexapod's leg glowed red hot from the sheer heat of the passing shot, flash-melted Ichor alloy sizzling as it slowly hardened again.
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BLOODY HELL! What the heck was that?!
[It appears that GDI Ion Cannon defense satellites are firing on our position, Foreman. Accelerated re-entry recommended, staying within upper atmosphere will put the vessel at risk.]
Oh great, GDI's Ion Cannon network hasn't gotten the memo yet have they? They probably think I'm one of the evil bug-aliens trying to kill of their species! Can't talk to them both as the "alliance" is still unofficial and they won't really believe whatever I say, so no luck on that either. What to do, what to do…
Time to play whack-a-mole with the resident kill-sats.
Full Steam Ahead!
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A searing lance sliced across the vastness of space in the span of a single millisecond, a flare of energy washing over the AutoShip's hull as the beam barely grazed the upper hull. A hissing arose as an angry red bruise formed on the alien armor, Ichor-based alloy bulging out like a welt.
Leave me alone already, dammit!
Things weren't looking so well at the moment. My AutoShip was busying itself dodging all the defensive fire from the trio of Ion Cannons ranging on us as we fell through the atmosphere, weaving left, right and center to throw off the doom-lasers' aim. A corona of re-entry flames was already forming around the practically swiss-cheesed Eradicator carapace, the high pressure slipstream helping to throw off the Cannons' precision just by that little bit. So far, we've managed to avoid incurring direct hits too often.
However, something else just had to ruin my day. The heat.
The sheer
temperature of the Ion Cannons grazing my hull were literally boiling the poor ship alive. Every shot that came within 500 meters of me packed more than enough energy to microwave the hull with its passage, searing the armour and cooking off the electronics inside. Half of my hull was glowing and the roof-mounted Warp Transmitter reduced to so much scrap
in five minutes alone, a whole slew of stress warnings popping up all over my "sight" as GDI's premier doomsday weapons slowly baked me to a crisp. Already parts of the maneuvering system were failing from the strain, thrusters coughing acrid smoke as their vents literally melted shut. What's worse, the sheer lack of any internal spaces in my ride meant I couldn't even fix them with the on-board Construction Drones at this speed, the little critters would just get blown off the hull like dandelions.
Ooh, there goes another leg.
With a scream of tortured metal, one of the few remaining legs on the Hexapod wrenched horribly in its joint from the stress, the huge limb breaking clean off its body with a crack. Laser damage from the hostile satellites and the stress of re-entry weren't doing the poor thing any favours, gibbets of molten Ichor-alloy sloughing off the Epic Unit's as it blazed through the sky, its armour slowly beginning to melt right off the creature's skeleton. The damn thing's been yawing like a hyperactive chipmunk for quite a while already, the horrible aerodynamics on this flea-bitten corpse causing it to tumble crazily in the air as I fought to keep it in line. Seriously, settle down already you fat loaf!
As soon as I finished that thought, we crossed a certain altitude and the beams stopped coming, the Ion Cannons
finally giving up. Voice, where are we now?
[Entering upper thermosphere in sixty seconds, please prepare for final course corrections and deceleration burn.]
Right, showtime's coming up real quick now. Just gotta get myself unstu-
Oh
hell. I've forgotten to call ahead, haven't I?
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[GDI, please respond. We've got a situation here.]
[Ah, Traveler. We'd thought that you were destroyed in that Rift when you entire army shut down, good to have you back. What's the situation?]
[Watch Commander, I'm carrying out an orbit to surface bombardment of the Reaper-17 stronghold in about 15 minutes or so, I need your forces to vacate the area before it hits. There's not really a way to call it off, so please hurry.]
[Roger that. Still, orbital bombardment? I'd believed that your kind didn't have any major space presence at all, what kind of weapon are we expecting?]
[Well, it's… myself, I guess?]
[…explain.]
[The Rift from earlier transported my Drone Ship high up into planetary atmosphere with a significant amount of debris, so I'll be descending from right above Berne with a good deal of mass and more than enough force to do... pretty nasty things to anything in the area. That's about it.]
[Wait. You're basically free-falling from orbit and plowing into a hostile fortress at speed, with your own command vehicle?! Are you insane?!]
[Yes, yes and no comment. I suspect the definition of "sanity" between our two species don't exactly align, thank you for the concern though.]
Watch Commander Elliot Gruber's palm spontaneously impacted his face with a meaty thwack. An InOps officer, drawn by the noise, briefly looked over his shoulder at the poor man before returning to his work.
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[Hello, Reaper! I'm baaaaaack~!]
Even from hundreds of klicks away, I swear I could
see Reaper-17's Drone Platform wrench around to look at my glorious reappearance.
[Traveler?!] The Foreman practically spluttered in reply. The poor thing sounded like it was having a stroke.
[B—but I Rifted you! How are you still HERE?!]
Thinking about it, maybe I really did give Reaper an aneurysm.
My AutoShip was blazing a fiery trail through the skies as it careened towards the Swiss city, its battered heatshield glowing merrily like hot coals as the two objects rocketed along at over
ten kilometers per second. Utterly ridiculous shockwaves rocked up and down our two hulls as all the air resistance from our insane airspeed did its level best to tear my improvised KKV from my grasp, the gravity clamps on the underside of the vessel ramping up to full in compensation even as the artificial gravity began to warp the metal like a squeezed can.
A sheath of plasma had formed around the remains of the Eradicator Hexapod, now little more than a shell-shaped shield, lighting up both it and the surrounding sky with a bright amber shine as we plummeted towards the surface. A blazing comet trail of plasma exhaust and molten Ichor marked out our passage in a flat arc from over the horizon, the sky briefly flashing a fiery red as my AutoShip punched through a high-altitude cloudbank. Faced with the epic temperatures of my ship's hull, the clouds deflated like a dying balloon as the moisture within them spontaneously vaporized in our wake.
Well,
whad'ya know. I'm smokin' hot.
Huehuehuehuehue.
On-screen, Reaper-17 was hurriedly packing up his Drone Platform as my vessel cleared the Swiss-German border.
[I don't understand!] The Foreman was panicking now, its warrior facade breaking as I closed in.
[The Ichor! We were here for the Ichor! Why are you opposing me?!]
[Well, Reaper? Just one little thing.] Oh, wow. I'm really doing this.
Francois accent, go! [I never really was on your side.]
[Now, eat this! FIST! OF!]
[NEWTOOOOOON!!!]
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One second.
An ear-splitting bang resounded as a vapor cone coalesced around the speeding hulk, the force of the shockwave forming a very visible dilation in the surrounding air. The air screamed as it entered Swiss airspace, the fastest thing in the entire European atmosphere this very moment. Below, Lake Neuchâtel churned from the turbulence of its passing, the Tiberium-infested water sloshing like a shaken bucket.
Two seconds.
It was somewhere above Mühleberg, over fifteen kilometers inland. Ichor-crusted trees shook in gale-force winds as it shot past, the dried out plant husks snapping like dried twigs. A moment later and it was in Berne proper, crossing over the entire span of the city in an instant.
Three.
The surface of the Hexapod kissed the land just fourteen meters away from the frantically retracting Drone Platform that house Reaper-17's commanding Foreman, the Epic Unit's metallic skin pressing into the loose soil. Atoms met atoms at sufficient velocity™ and performed the intricate dance of fission, spreading the reaction over to their neighbors. Between partially-slagged alien alloy and Ichor-crusted dirt, a miniature sun was born.
And then there was Light.
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Atuhor's Note:
And that brings to a close the Berne saga! Hope you guys enjoyed it, and that the grand finale was up to your expectations! Timeskip will be coming up shortly as Traveler-59 and GDI finally get to the negotiating table of sorts, and more of the overarching story gets revealed!
What, you'd thought I didn't plan anything? Oh, you! Improv! IMPROV!
I'll be sitting back for a couple of days to catch up on RL matters as well as prep up for the next stretch, please feel free to comment or give any advice in the meantime! Once again, thank you all for reading, and we wish you a pleasant flight*SHOT*
