Outpost Thor-Frey 12

It took me a few minutes to reach the cliff that overlooked the Outpost the Chief needed me to reinforce, and as soon as I saw the large horde of chitinous insectoids swarming towards our position I opened up my comms and searched for the frequency that the Outpost utilized.

"Einherjar Hrefna reporting to Outpost Thor-Frey 12. Send copy."

As I waited I slung the Ullr off my back and admired the brilliant work of engineering that had gone into making this long range dealer of death, specifically the twin receiver that allowed me to alternate between two different calibers of bullet.

The aforementioned 15mm Tungsten 'Smite' round - or any 15mm shell for that matter - alongside the more available .300 caliber rounds that packed a punch but were easier to manufacture en masse.

Swapping over to the smaller caliber receiver, I grabbed the high caliber magazine and ejected it from the rifle, allowing me to replace it with the same size magazine that was altered to house .300 rounds instead; fifteen of them, to be precise.

As I tuned the anti-grav jets to stabilize my Ullr, the comm crackled to life as a voice entered my earpiece, one that was filled with relief and hope.

"Outpost Thor-Frey 12 copies, Einherjar Hrefna! We have you on radar and are relieved to have you with us! The horde numbers in the hundreds, and we have a few Muspeli's loaded and ready to burn the filthy Chukanid's to ash!"

"Affirmative; I shall provide overwatch support to the best of my abilities. Check target marks for maximum effectiveness, Merkismathr. Inform your Stallari of those marks immediately."

Receiving the affirmative from one of the aides to the Stallari - or 'Captain', if we had been amongst Humanity at large - I chambered the first .300 round and stared through my scope as I tapped the side of my Ullr, designating specific Chukanid's as priority targets and pinging them for the Outpost to deal with.

With four Muspeli Mortar Tanks loaded and primed at the center of the outpost, I was expecting this horde to die a fiery death as we rained down hellfire onto their chitinous shells, and nothing would bring me greater joy than a field of charred Chukanid's.

Even as they charged towards us a few of the insectoid aliens stopped to devour a corpse or tree, tearing through it with it's razor sharp pincers and munching on it with its rows of churning fangs that could crush almost anything.

The gluttony that these aliens were created with was utterly insatiable, and that was why even the other sentient races had declared a war against these aliens, one that us humans were more than willing to wage as it gave us access to a new purpose and unifying hatred that drove us forwards.

We needed this, and I was aware of how the other races viewed us as simpletons for this need of ours, but none of them openly mocked us for it since we had displayed a potential for destruction and death dealing that rivaled even the civilizations that had double, even triple the lifespan of our species.

Our brutality and penchant for violence was greater than most could muster, and that innate craving for bloodshed and conquest was what ensured our continued survival, and as a descendant of the warriors who had taken to the stars in the 'Valhalla', I had grown to cherish that innate craving of mine.

I... just so happened to relish it in a different way from my fellow descendants, who all preferred violence from up close or through extreme might; at large we were more skilled in close quarters combat and vehicular combat than the other descendants of the original Arks, but I specialized in precision and patience, which earned me a unique, yet lonely spot amongst my peers.

Still, no one could take away my hate for these bugs, and I marked the final Goshi Class Chukanid that would provide any sort of threat to the Outpost, allowing me to begin my slaughter from well over a mile away.

Pulling the trigger, my Ullr coughed out a .300 round that spiraled through the air and sliced through the weaker shell of an Ashigaru Chukanid, which made up the vast population of the Chukanid's warrior type insects.

A puff of pink mist filled the air as the small skull of the Ashigaru was obliterated, and even though it was a drop in the bucket of this current horde, I just wanted to add to my kill count as I switched to the next Chukanid, picking off the furthest ones as I waited for the roars of the Muspeli Mortars.

I didn't need to wait long at all, the effective range of the tanks long enough to reach their marks as they sent four payloads of contained napalm into the sky, allowing them to arc down towards the horde before exploding, ensuring the chemical concoction was poured across dozens of the bugs.

A smile tugged at my lips as my Ullr coughed agains, my quiet rifle claiming the life of another as I watched the death from afar, those four shells spreading a curtain of sticky fire across dozens of Chukanids that began to burn through their carapace.

Burning them alive, the napalm clung to their corpses and spread to those that passed over them, and as another four shells were shot into the sky I murmured "Three Goshi Class Chukanids down, Outpost Thor-Frey 12. Three remain.", reporting in even though it wasn't necessary.

"Affirmative Einherjar Hrefna! Redirecting the Muspeli's now."

The curt voice that responded was different from before, but I didn't bother with it as I continued to pluck away at the furthest Chukanids, providing support as I marked the Goshi again and watched them get burnt with the next wave.

With the leaders gone, the rest of the Chukanids were thrown into disarray, their charge halted and allowing the final shells of normal fragmentation to blow them away, signaling the swift end of this 'battle', and the completion of another mission for me.