Spears of laser beams struck the surface. Terawatts of destructive energy did not notice the woody flesh and the parasitic shoots that had pierced it, evaporating in an instant. Granite boiled, spreading in streams of lava. The crackling of mountain rocks that absorbed the heat drowned out the cannonade of ground combat, but the life-and-death struggle continued.
The intelligent beings, afflicted by plant parasites, continued to push forward even when their skin began to smolder and burn from the monstrous temperatures. Even when the cannons, designed for combat in the void, unleashed another volley onto this war-torn land, the mutants continued to climb the ancient walls.
Following the cruiser, its escort broke through the cloud cover. A breach formed in the wall of clouds, into which light poured, illuminating the fortress that had been besieged for seven days. For the first time in three years, the sun's rays illuminated the ancient walls.
Frigates and corvettes spoke with their small-caliber cannons. Microscopic projectiles, accelerated to dizzying speeds, exploded against the atmosphere as soon as they flew away from the rapid-fire guns. The resulting shrapnel passed like a steel tide over the Assimilator's offspring. A suspension of bloody dust and tree sap mixed with the fog of spent gunpowder gases...
Only after this did the plant threat react to the attack, deeming the damage received unacceptable. A silent command, and the regular monsters began to undergo changes, forming a new formation. It took less than a second for the creatures to merge, creating a biological weapon of planetary defense from biomass, and fire.
Natural plasma struck the protective shield of the ships with a roar, creating a waterfall of white sparks. The thinning energy film rippled, like water from a stone thrown into its surface. A dull clang echoed for many kilometers around. The sound was so loud and sharp that trees for many leagues swayed, scattering their leaves.
Seeing the ineffectiveness of the strike, the plants instantly changed their approach. Right in the air, their spores began to condense, melting and breaking down into nutrients and biological molecules, forming air vortices with their movement. The conductors and gunners of the cruiser were not idle and did not intend to let the enemy carry out their plan, but the blows of the proletarian war hammer passed through them as if through a sand suspension, only dispersing it for a moment.
The condensed mass solidified into cocoons, from which volatile plant units began to emerge, forcing the high-tech ships to close ranks and transfer more energy to their shields. The "Normandy's" escort exploded in a tungsten rain and a scattering of laser beams, knocking down plant birds by the hundreds and thousands, but their flow did not weaken.
Meanwhile, on the ground, which the main guns of the heavy spacecraft were pounding, distorted imitations of elven flying ships ripened. Instead of composites, there were gnarled roots, and photosynthesis fueled a terrible interpretation of a once-elegant mechanism.
Directly from the constantly forming incubators, new mutants hastily jumped onto the boats, and the landing party rushed upwards to try to land on the combat-hardened expeditionary forces.
At the same time, fearing a sortie from the fortress defenders, the plants intensified their assault on it, creating similar distorted copies of dwarven tanks, unleashing a barrage of biological fire on the ancient walls. As if that were not enough, balls full of low-temperature plasma began to form literally out of thin air, to fall on the defenders under the force of gravity.
The green, bubbling goo dissolved ancient concrete slabs, granite cladding, metal, armor, flesh, passing like a merciless sickle over the defenders, forcing them to hastily abandon the walls.
The living earth, ravaged by battle, turned into dead sand before their eyes. The finest capillaries drew all the juices from it, allowing the terrifying flora to accumulate biomass. Even the air cleared slightly of spores, forming an eye of the storm in the cloud cover, but at the same time drawing more and more nutrients. The Assimilator was about to devour the threat.
In the distance, where the cannons of the technological ships could not reach, their plant analogues ripened, preparing to rush into battle as soon as their protective bark hardened. At the same time, the planet itself began to die. Air, water, and minerals were pumped out by a colossal pump. Even the ocean surged, began to recede from the shores, as the minerals dissolved in it were so necessary for strengthening the creatures' chitin...
Realizing that holding back meant death, the expedition stopped limiting its means. The "Normandy" was enveloped in a cloud of carbon dioxide when hundreds of rockets broke away from the carrier on "cold" engines, embarking on their final flight. Equipped with warheads designed to destroy super-strong void behemoth armor, they exploded, amplifying the explosion with microscopic amounts of zero-element. Matter regressed, crumbling into atomic flakes. The Assimilator experienced the response of absolute terror!
But the Workers' and Peasants' Red Army had only just begun to crush the enemy! The plasma cannons, silent until now, came to life. Their capacitors sang their furious song.
A blue flash announced the birth of man-made plasma lightning, each several meters in diameter. Electrifying the air, energy-breathing projectiles rushed forward, flying out of the barrels with a hiss.
Their flight was short. Splashing across the surface, they exploded in a blinding flash, filling everything with white light, erupting in a cascade of lightning that burned through bodies with a single touch.
But even that was not enough for the Soviets, who had gotten serious. The sharp nose of the "Normandy" glowed from the energy passing through it. Light objects began to rise as if in zero gravity. All sounds instantly ceased...
The gravity hammer struck the almost dead earth, making the besieged stronghold tremble from its foundations to the roofs of its towers. Amplified by the planet's own gravity, the blow scattered the mutants. Moreover, the wave of compressed air finally dispersed the clouds, pushing them a hundred kilometers away...
Flakes of ash and regressed matter fell. Among them, jumping from one particle to another, skipped residual charges. The silence was such that it could almost be cut.
In this silence, from the dunes of scorched organic matter, mutants slowly rose. Stunned, wounded, scattered, but still just as unyielding. Seeing this, the "Normandy," burning its thrusters, approached the fortress, opening its flight decks on the fly. From them, breaking away at afterburner, landing craft immediately took off, disembarking the expedition's landing party.
"If you want to live, everyone on board! We won't hold them for long!" someone's voice rang out in the minds of the locals, distorting the words, but conveying their meaning. The defenders and refugees who had found shelter within the ancient walls did not need to be persuaded twice. Even if they were demons from hell, they would gladly rush into the abyss at that moment.
The disembarked Red Army soldiers, in addition to helping the survivors board, prepared for defense.
Nimble octopods, levitating on their antigravs, soared onto the walls. Their tentacles, encased in exoskeletons, seemed to live their own lives. Living machines literally printed out automatic defense systems, like ultra-precise 3D printers.
The skaven had a different approach. They assembled weapons and traps from scrap and debris, and as they passed, they modernized the local fortress cannons, sometimes using parts torn from their own bodies. More explosives, fury, and complete fearlessness of death for the Motherland.
The doloks and sharki hastily built barricades and unloaded crates from shuttles darting back and forth to the ships, overloaded.
Nimble felinids dispersed along the fortifications like invisible shadows. Their sniper rifles immediately began to work, shooting down the most agile monsters.
Humans and vulfhednars replaced the exhausted warriors, preparing to meet the new onslaught of the biological threat.
Free hunters prepared to show proletarian solidarity, standing shoulder to shoulder with regular soldiers...
"Run! Run! Run!!!" Shep urged on the next refugees, pointing the way with a wave of his hand.
Behind the clatter of civilians, his ears, enhanced by biology and electronics, could already distinguish the shuffling gait of mutants.
"At least it's clear what destroyed all life on six planets in this sector," the captain thought grimly, firing his pistol with his left hand, hoping more to illuminate the target in the pitch darkness of the dungeon than to hit it. The released burst of plasma balls cut through the blackness, flying through the catacomb tunnel in green streaks, harmlessly splashing against the wall. For a moment, the ragged light caught a swaying figure...
The logic of intelligent plants was simple and peculiar at the same time. They applied the minimum effort required to achieve the result. No more, no less. Too many nutrients were spent simply on maintaining the life of this hellish garden. This fact allowed the living to hold on for so long, otherwise the flora would have swept them away. Therefore, it was rational for them to literally bury them with bodies, processing them again and again, rather than producing more elite units...
He fired the second burst more successfully, breaking three "logs" into separate shoots, accelerating the hasty run of the refugees with the sounds of gunfire. At the same time, the "logs" woke up from their economical mode and rushed into attack with all their might, literally draining themselves without UV replenishment.
Having accurately calculated the number of enemies, Shep did not bother and immediately struck with telekinesis. Helping himself concentrate with a movement of his hand, he pressed the tenacious creatures into the wall, causing a small collapse and dust to fall from the vaults.
Therefore, the "Normandy" did not use a gravistructure. The walls, breathing history, would have collapsed instantly from an careless blow. It was only used when there was no other choice.
"The locals are not only pitiable, but they are needed. They will help shed light on what the hell is going on here!" the operative thought, spraying polymer with an aerosol and igniting it.
The polymer could not be used directly. It was comparable to fertilizer and doping for these intelligent bushes, which turned out to be so cunning that they dug a passage under the wall and broke into the network of catacombs and karst caves under the fortress.
The mutants literally sensed concentrations of biomass, breaking their way directly into the cave with refugees, immediately starting a massacre. It was fortunate that they were noticed quite early and many managed to escape. This also complicated the work of the evacuation team, who had to catch frightened intelligent beings from every nook and cranny.
The dungeon shook again. The green wave gradually resumed its onslaught, drawing resources to the threat. It compensated for the stupidity and slow reaction of individual units with mass and rapid strategic responses. Time was literally running out, seeping through their fingers. All living things had to be evacuated before they left. After them, only ashes would remain, as one fanatic from the appeals guaranteed, and the captain had no reason to disbelieve him. The threat had to be localized and destroyed, and since these plants fit the category of "Cedar," if not "Napoleon," then no means were spared in dealing with them.
He could only guess what kind of "Buratino" would come out of the hands of the evil genius this time, whose talent for explosives was granted by the most boundless abyss of space. The world had already been signed a death sentence...
The captain broke into a run, catching up with the civilians in just a couple of seconds, even though they had managed to run a considerable distance. Checking the drone readings again and not seeing anything alive through their sensors, he gave a mental order for demolition.
A roar sounded, and dust covered them, making the non-spacesuit-clad intelligent beings cough.
"Faster! Coughing lungs are better than fangs in the rump!" Shep urged them. Although they didn't understand him, the intonation was very expressive.
Helping them almost with kicks, the captain drove the civilians up the spiral staircase, into the fresh air. As soon as the light appeared, he activated his jetpack, emerging from the stairwell hatch, and immediately unleashed a telekinetic wave on the mutants swarming the courtyard. The skaven, who had clashed with them in hand-to-hand combat, took full advantage of the situation, rushing into close combat with the stunned enemy. Arms and legs flew, explosions sounded, and the happy laughter of intelligent rats who had fulfilled their duty to the end.
"Form a perimeter around the evacuation zone!" the captain ordered the skaven, fully aware that if he simply ordered them to retreat, they would completely ignore the order in the heat of battle.
Taking advantage of the opportunity, he recruited exclusively white ones for the expedition. White intelligent rats only appeared when an ordinary rat died and was reborn three or four times. In fact, they were not snow-white, but gray from birth, and more fanatical than the most deranged fanatic. A creature that had given its life for the country several times without hesitation, torment, or regret could not be otherwise. The most terrible thing that made one look at these warriors with respect was the realization: they would repeat this again and again, until their minds turned to mush and they could be reborn in a new body!
The skaven saw nothing wrong with this fate, although it did not mean they did not value life. They valued life, but only that of others. Rats defended allies to the last and exchanged themselves for enemies without hesitation. Only they had the order written in their charter: "Begin reproduction." Two weeks – and a new soldier is already in service, and not alone...
No longer constrained by stone vaults, the captain no longer bothered, starting to hit wide areas. Telekinesis and lightning discharges simply rained down from his hands, mowing down entire swathes in the ranks of plants. Putting away his pistol, useless with so many enemies, Shep took his sword, unfolding it into two blades.
The jetpack roared briefly, throwing him into the center of the enemy crowd. It couldn't even be called a formation, even when drunk.
Using a telekinetic wave, he swept away the center of the wave of plant bodies. Telekinesis again. Directing the push behind him, he shot himself forward again, spreading his hands with swords to the sides. High-tech blades passed through the mutants like scythes of death. There was no grace now. There was only pure destruction.
A mental command, and the bodies, generously doused with polymer, ignited, and the captain moved forward again against an enemy exceeding any reasonable number.
Discharge. The front line writhed in a spasm, forcing the pressing mass to stumble over it.
A punch to the ground. Aiding his mind with movement, he brought down an invisible press on the jumbled mass. The distorted bodies in a circle with a diameter of about five meters were simply ground into a pulp.
The sword, whistling, cut the air. Following the blade, invisible energy picked up the resulting debris, generously seasoned it with polymer, and scattered the ignited mixture for hundreds of meters around.
The operative did not pay attention to the raging flames, continuing his path forward, towards the breached gates of the citadel, and his steps were strewn with mutilated remains. Only the roar of a shuttle hovering above him pulled Shep out of his combat trance. Waiting only for the operative to grab the cable, the pilot immediately pulled the machine upwards, giving the operative a chance to look at his handiwork…
In just a couple of minutes, he had staged a real massacre. Climbing the cable to the ramp, he only managed to notice how the "Normandy" also shot upwards with its escort. Reaching the bench, he heavily leaned against the wall of the assault bay. It took him a long time to feel the gazes of the refugees on him, where gratitude was mixed with fear. Even the warriors looked at him with undisguised apprehension, but the past battle had exhausted the captain too much for him to pay attention to it.
Waiting for the sensation of weightlessness, he still left the assault bay, heading straight for the cockpit, catching the culmination of the prolonged confrontation. His eyes saw how the cruiser made a torpedo salvo, sending a single torpedo towards the planet shrouded in clouds. For about five minutes, nothing happened, but then a blinding point lit up on the surface, which began to grow before his eyes. Soon the light became so bright that the cabin polarization activated, darkening the glass. It took a little more than ten minutes for the flames to completely engulf the planet. Even the ocean burned, and the atmosphere was torn by fiery whirlwinds.
Seeing this apocalyptic picture, Shep felt both the weight of duty and satisfaction from a job well done. Today he had saved several thousand lives, and tomorrow, perhaps, millions, if not billions. All that remained was to complete the original task, to finally learn the secrets of the Citadel copy…