World: Earth₄

Commander, we have a level two incursion outside Seattle

The man sitting in the comfortable chair shifted uncomfortably. "Let's get company six and eight on their way out there, and have squad A of third company support locals until relieved."

That will likely result in a complete loss of squad A third.

"Don't you think I know that, you fool machine! We just don't have enough Class I talent graduating from those damned sanitariums. Whoever thought that up should be sent to the next class three incursion."

The commander thought about the world he never knew existed. Well, before he joined the Psi Legion support corps.

The first incursion, in 2201, had likely been a misfire. Who was behind this continual assault was still unknown. But the first incursion wouldn't even rate a level one incursion.

A level one incursion was an assault force of between fifty and sixty.

There were only seven in that first wave. Even seven would have been enough to raze Salt Lake City, where they landed, if it hadn't been for a single Psi who put himself between the incursion force and the rest of the world.

No technological device yet developed could stand against these things.

Yet, one Psi had been able to destroy the creatures. That Psi had been one of the weakest, a Class IV.

Someone decided that telling the world about the war would destroy their way of life, so they formed the Psi Legion.

But they needed a way to test the resolve of the leadership. The Class Is.

It was inhuman.

Sometimes inhumanity had to be performed by the watchmen in order to assure the humanity of the watched.

"Display leader squad A third on primary display."

A level two incursion is more than three hundred assault troops.

The members of the squad were directing the lances of death at the creatures that bubbled through the barrier. Everywhere that the camera displayed was filled with the grotesque forms. Some had one arm longer than the other. Some had three or more arms. Some had no arms at all. Some had two legs. Some had none. One thing was almost fifteen feet long and covered in mobile appendages.

It took two full companies to effectively stand off a level two incursion. Even then there were always casualties. There had only ever been one level three incursion. The previous command center had gone down under that assault. Only one of the fifteen companies of the Legion had actually survived that. And it was a broken mess.

Each member of the squad took out five, ten, twenty, more, but five versus hundreds is poor odds indeed.

The commander had a moment of hope that this time might be different. That he wouldn't lose another first response squad. There was a reason that they are entirely volunteers however. And that their motto was, Once more into the breach.

The first member of the squad went down almost ten minutes after they engaged. The closest company was still twenty minutes out. He was torn in two by the crablike claws of one of the beasts. Four blasts obliterated the monster a moment too late.

It was another four minutes before the next member went down. The other three members of the team had focused on a twenty foot tall creature. They missed the four foot tall grasshopper from behind.

The remaining three went back to back. The kept taking down more and more of the beasts, but there continued to be more to kill.

The third went down to a two way attack. All three of the squad members had been distracted by the flashing blades of one of the creatures. They took it out in time to see their compatriot stabbed in the back. The company was still eight minutes out.

Again, a moment of hope. They lasted for seven minutes. They fought like the demons they faced. Then it was only the leader left.

Seconds remained. The engines of the assault craft could be heard over the pickup. The company flooded onto the field of battle. The camera went tumbling, showing a couple of frames of the now headless body of the squad leader.

"Shut it off."

He sat in his climate controlled command center. Sweat stained his uniform. He put his head in his hands and cried the loss of another five of his children. The oldest of those 'soldiers' had been only fifteen. All of them were Class I. Company three was down to two platoons. That meant there were only eight squads between humanity and the monsters in the dark.

"We are going to lose this war, aren't we?"

Based on the current rate of increase in incursion frequency and the reduction in new Psi capable individuals, the most recent projections show us without any protection in six months

The commander took out his service pistol and ate it. His successor had to clean up the mess. His successor lasted longer than anyone of his predecessors: five weeks.