Ficlets

The Fourteenth

Marten knew they were all gone before he got there. The trench had shown signs of a struggle, but certainly not enough for it to have been a Reaver sweep. Squad Fourteen had been trained to handle Reavers. Now all that was left was destroyed uniforms and armor that crumbled like sugar candy underfoot. That, and piles of dust that swirled up and stuck to everything. As he brushed some dust from his pants with the back of his hand he couldn’t help but wonder if he had known who it used to be.

There was only one thing that could do this to so many, so quickly. The Reavers had finished softening the front lines, and now the next wave was starting its push. Soon it would be time for his squad to put all that sim training to the test.

He flipped his comm to general band. “Watch for plasma! The Reavers have pulled back. They’ll bunk down and start full-spectrum soon!”

He had time to flip comm back to local-squad before the sky was ripped in half by a daemonic rainbow.

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