Soto landed feet first in a brownish sludge that quickly sucked him down to waist level. The disgusting mass that slowly flowed around him made him thank whatever deities there may be that his armor was environmentally sealed, preventing him from touching – or at all smelling – the foul stuff.
He quickly hefted his rifle, scanning the tunnel they had landed in. Empty, save for Ulrich that had entered before him. And the infernal sludge.
“Clear!”
He could hear others land behind him, and from the muffled curses he could tell that it is Sulieman, who himself is followed by another.
“Fire in the hole! Get down!”
The shout came through the coms, and he could instantly tell that it was Vasquez that had uttered them, and instantly his gut sank. What had he-?!
A splash was followed by a massive explosion above that knocked down Soto into the sludge, and sent his teeth rattling from the shockwave.
His HUD lit up in its’ familiar blue, showing him that the armor had ceased absorbing surrounding oxygen, and was now relying on internal air supply.
He rises up to his feet, and as what is hopefully nothing worse than xeno feces splash all around him.
“WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO?!”
Brown smears remain as he wipes his visor clear of the sludge, a maneuver that soon is revealed outdated as the nanofilm that forms the outer layer of the armor makes even the slow-flowing unidentifiable sludge fall away.
Vasquez breaks the surface, seemingly half panicked as he tries to gain footing on the unseen floor.
“I don’t know sir, I just threw some c4 and-”
Soto cut him off with an angered roar.
“YOU THREW C4?! WHAT ABOUT PROTOCOL?”
“I-i…”
A hand lands on Soto’s shoulder, and he snaps around, seeing Sulieman standing there.
“Calm down, sir. We’re in a situation we weren’t trained for and it’s not easy for any of us.”
Soto sighs, and turns back to Vasquez.
“How much did you use?”
The marine seems to regain some of his composure.
“Just a little, sir. I figured it could work as a diversion. I must have ruptured a gas pipe or something.”
Soto sighs.
“Astrid, Dieter, you two alright?”
He is answered by an affirmative grunt from Hagen, and a ‘aye sir’ from Ulrich, and he lets out a relieved breath.
“Well then, we’re damn lucky no one got seriously injured, but Vasquez, if you ever pull a stunt like that again, I will kick your ass. We’re Sol marines, not Fenrisian. You better damn remember that.”
Vasquez salutes.
“Sir yes sir!”
Soto throws a glance up, and as he does he can see dust falling down from above, and beyond there is a roaring inferno.
“It seems we won’t need to worry about pursuers, though. Well then, marines. We go west.”
“Oorah!”
“Did you feel that?” Ulrich’s voice was a hoarse whisper, and Soto can see the marine’s flashlight fall away from the tunnel leading ahead. They had already walked through the underground sewers for half an hour, many times coming across sudden changes in direction, crossings and dead ends, and Soto was feeling on edge. Several times he had seen something in his peripheral vision, something that had sent the veteran marine completely on edge.
It was like the scene of a horror movie, and Soto did not appreciate it in the least. And he just knew that there was something in the water.
“Circle formation! There’s something here, and we won’t be taken by surprise!”
The marines rapidly form a tight circle, facing outwards with their backs towards one another. Soto sweeps his flashlight over the sludgy surface, not as much as a wave or disturbance to be seen.
“Sir? I can’t see shit.”
Soto could hear Vasquez chortle to Ulrich’s comment.
“Then you clearly aren’t looking hard enough. We’re waist deep in it!”
Next comes a clinking noise as Ulrich elbows the laughing Vasquez in the side.
“Ha ha. Super funny. You know what I mean.”
Soto interrupts their squabble; “Cut it out both of you. This isn’t a joke. Vasquez, hand grenade at 12 o’clock. Let’s flush whatever this is out of hiding.”
“Aye sir.”
The marine pulls out a spherical grenade, before pressing a button and tossing it a healthy distance in front of the captain.
For a minute, the grenade seems to be floating just on the surface of the sludge, but just as Soto prepares to take another few steps back for safety, the thing disappears beneath the surface.
Soto raises an arm in front of his visor just in time to shield his vision from an intense detonation that sends goop flying everywhere, drenching the marine formation in unspeakable substances; but a mere couple of seconds later, a whining screech fills the tunnel, proving that the effort had not been in vain.
From beneath the still waves, an entity best described as somewhere in between a snake and a worm bursts forth. Its’ circumference easily rivaling that of Soto’s thigh makes it an imposing entity, especially as its’ jaws open, revealing several rows of long, needle-like teeth.
Soto reacts with trained precision, and a hefty crack later, the monster is rent in twain, spilling vicious lime-green guts all over the surface of the sewer-goop.
“What the hell was that thing?!” Soto can tell that Sulieman is spooked, as his voice is a slight pitch higher than its’ normal tone.
“Hell do I know? Native species? Infested native species? Some new kind of zombie-thing? Your guess is as good as mine.” Soto pokes the still-steaming innards with the barrel of his gun, but beyond adding a sheen to the metal, nothing much happens.
Ulrich chuckles.
“Well, at least there was just one of them.”
As if the universe acted out of sheer spite, the tunnel immediately resonates with numerous screeches from the direction which they had been traveling from.
“Oh, you just had to do it, huh? Fucking jinx.” Vasquez voice drips with venom as he speaks to his fellow.
“No time to argue. Vas, take out the C4. We’re sealing this shithole behind us. I don’t want to get overrun by those worms! Rest of you move ahead! Hagen, you’re on point, rest of you conserve ammo!” Soto shouted the orders even as he knew he didn’t need to. The suits’ comms would pick up and transmit his voice even as a whisper, but the effect was clear on his troops as they sprung into action. Or well, as much as one can when waist-deep in shit.
As Soto stood watch, Vasquez rapidly removed one and four fifths of a block of C4 from his pack, sticking one of the blocks to one wall before sliding into it a metal pin attached by wiring to a detonator, and then jump-sprinting over to the other side and repeating the procedure.
As he did, Soto could see a writing mass of worm-like monsters come around the bend of the sewer behind Vasquez; forming what was pretty much a blanket of worms on top of the goop.
He lifted his rifle, firing a few bursts into the mass before pulling out one of his own grenades and trowing it in front of them.
The bullets didn’t even slow the progress of the worms, and Soto could be pretty sure that no natural creature would act with such disregard to the lives of its’ pack. The grenade once more erupts in a detonation of goop and green guts, and the first of the worms have been removed from existence.
“Move! We’re out of time!”
The mass of worms were only a few hundred meters away now, and as Vasquez waded through the goop Soto could tell that he wouldn’t be clear of the blast before the worms were already upon them.
And it seemed as if Vasquez had understood as well, as he threw himself down into the sludge and pressed the detonator button.
As the C4 detonated, even Soto was flung back, landing face-up several meters back.
Every bone in his body ached, and his ears rung furiously, but the HUD reassured him that he wasn’t injured, and the suit wasn’t breached. In an effort equal parts splashing as anything else, he once more got his feet on the ground, and it was only then that he could see the destruction caused by the detonated C4.
The entire tunnel was collapsed, with hundreds of tons of rubble forming an impenetrable barrier that would require a mining laser to get through. He looks wildly for Vasquez, who had been a lot closer to the blast and whom Soto had lost view of as the detonation occurred, but can see nothing but rubble falling down and creating ripples in the sludgy liquid in which he stood.
“VAS?! Answer me, damn it! Where the hell are you?!”
An arm erupting from the sludge, but proving insufficient to evict the trapped marine from his unholy prison, stills the cold lump that had formed in Soto’s stomach.
“Here! Get me the hell out of this stuff! I’m stuck!”
Soto sighs with relief.
“God damn it, Vasquez.”