(no subject)

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon knows the sound of those rotors. It's doubtful he'll forget it as long as he lives. Those are gunship rotors, at least one, possibly two. So he's understandably skittish as he hedges up to the mine exit and peers out. The all-too-familiar shape of a Strider is lumbering along an elevated roadway in the distance, followed by tiny moving specks that might be Overwatch or might be Elites, and that not-quite-British woman's voice echoes from speakers somewhere out of sight:

"All autonomous units: Accept mandatory sector assimilation. Coordinated constriction underway. Debride and cauterize. Entering phase nine, enhanced compliance. Deploy advisory control and oversight. Submit and be subsumed."

... this can't end well.

Comments

[vance_prime]

Alyx squints as she steps out into the harsh daylight... then gasps as she realizes what she's seeing. "Oh my God. The Combine's on the move."

"Yes, and they carry Shu'ulathoi," the Vortigaunt notes, pointing toward an upright grayish-white pod being escorted by a squad of Overwatch. "Advisors, still in incubation pods."

[acts_of_gord]

Just how many of those things survived, Gordon wonders- and then doesn't, because he remembers the white flecks peeling off from the Citadel before it went nova. The answer is 'lots'.

He doesn't like the answer.

"They gather and unite the scattered Combine forces," the Vortigaunt notes.

[vance_prime]

"So that's what we saw in the Citadel," Alyx murmurs. "They're sure in a hurry..."

"They move north with great purpose."

"North?" Alyx's bemusement gives way to alarm. "White Forest! We have to get there ahead of them!"

[acts_of_gord]

"I know of humans with a vehicle not far from here," says the Vortigaunt. "They will understand our urgent need."

"Which way?" Gordon says, and sets off in the direction of the Vortigaunt's nod. As he makes his way along, he realizes that the rhythmic thudding noise he's been hearing in the background for a while now isn't Strider footsteps, or anything else Combine for that matter. Haven't they just come out of an antlion warren?

[vance_prime]

Indeed they have. And just as a line of thumpers comes into view around a corner, the grass under their feet gives way to gravelly sand... which starts churning like mad as a half-dozen insectoid forms squirm up out of it.

"Antlions," grunts Alyx as she draws her pistol. "Now I know I'm not in heaven."

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon's far too low on shotgun shells for his liking, but at least he's got plenty of rounds for the SMG. The Vortigaunt's shout of advice gets drowned out by gunfire as he heads for the first thumper, doing his best to clear a path they can sprint through.

Hopefully they won't have to spend too long in this area. These bugs are going to be a problem.

[vance_prime]

There's a large boulder next to the nearest thumper; when she reaches it, Alyx leans heavily against it, gasping for breath. That sprint was maybe ten yards, but she feels like she just ran clear to City 17 and back.

"Go on, Gordon," she pants. "I'll cover you from here--"

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon casts an alarmed look at Alyx, but doesn't get to ask are you sure?. He knows what someone badly winded looks like from experience. He nods and sprints like a mad thing for the next thumper. There's a small rise of rock protruding out of the soil nearby; it's enough elevation for him to start ripping into the antlions barring Alyx's and the Vortigaunt's way.

To his disgust, there are acid-lions amongst the normal ones. Between his gun and the Vortigaunt's lightning attack the first one goes down. "The humans have their enclave on the rim of this canyon," the alien notes as it darts into the cover of the thumper. "But I cannot see their sentries."

[vance_prime]

Alyx arrives a few seconds later, firing the whole way. She sags against a nearby rock, but keeps her pistol at the ready. Now if she could just focus well enough to pick off those antlions on the far ridge...

[acts_of_gord]

"We're headed in the right direction, though?" Gordon asks the Vortigaunt. When it nods, he grimaces. "All right. The faster, the better. I'm going in three, two, one-"

On one he sprints again, though the process is slowed somewhat by the screeching emergence of several more antlions. The other thumper is more heavily ringed with sheet metal, so there's at least that protection- but there's an acid-lion with a real knack for parabolic spitting. That one is worth risking stepping out of shelter to blow apart.

[vance_prime]

"They're all over!" Alyx cries as she makes a mad dash for Gordon's position.

A crackle of electricity, a whiff of ozone, and--well, they're still all over, but now they're in pieces.

[acts_of_gord]

Gordon would ask how much farther, but he can see the end of the canyon from here. There's some sort of elevator mechanism on the other side of a tunnel mouth, at least. If the human encampment is up there, they've got to reach the elevator. "Okay," he says in a lull between gunshots. "I'm going to make a run for the lift. I'll cover you once you're good to go."

He bolts, ignoring the antlion screams behind him. And for a moment it looks as if he's going to make it, too.

Of course, that would be the moment when a bellow of GROOOOONGH! heralds the vast, glowing bulk of the Guardian smashing its way through the barricade that had closed off the tunnel mouth moments before...

[smelltheashes]

"The ancient Guardian!" the Vortigaunt calls from its shelter by the thumper. "At this time, you may kill it without consequence!"

Gordon had better hurry, though, because the matching tunnel on the far side of the valley has just given way to the impact of an angry bull.

To quote an entirely different video game canon: My friend, you are fucked.

[acts_of_gord]

There are three potshot grenades in his SMG's arsenal.

Correction: two.

Correction: one.

Correction: there's a long-forgotten barrel of generator fuel in the grip of his gravity gun....

[smelltheashes]

The Guardian flinches and roars in pain, but isn't quite down for the count yet. It charges--not directly at Gordon, but off to the side, where a rusted-out station wagon lies half-buried in the sand. One good push sends the car flying in a high arc toward Gordon.

[acts_of_gord]

There are reclamation pads and filters in the lower portions of the HEV suit. For this fact Gordon is suddenly grateful.

Also for the sprint function, as the car's too big for him to hold off with the gravity gun. At least there's another barrel he can punt... towards... the...

... you know, he really should've been paying more attention. You wouldn't think something the size of an antlion bull could sneak up on you, would you? Because, well, WOOMCH.

[vance_prime]

!!!

"GORDON!" Shit shit shit he's getting flattened out there and there's nothing she can do...

[acts_of_gord]

"Minor fractures detected," the suit announces as Gordon lands face-first in one of the muddier and therefore not quite as crunch-inducing areas. Gordon's response is to stick up one arm and, well, one finger.

But it's not as if he hasn't done this before, so he's going to push himself up, wish like hell the suit still had some morphine for him, and grab the gun that he knows works. Because these freaking things are going back to Klendathu in a sandwich bag.

Shotgun. Both barrels. As many times as he has shells, and then he's running for the thumper again- he's pretty sure there was an ammo crate in among the rocks somewhere.

[smelltheashes]

There is. There's also a propane tank wedged under one of the barricades. Its impact brings down the Guardian, but the bull is still gunning for him, scattering debris in its wake.

[acts_of_gord]

"Have we got a medkit?" Gordon asks. His hands are trembling as he does his best to reload the shotgun. "Or any- that's good too." 'That' being the Vortigaunt holding out one hand to recharge his suit.

"The Alyx Vance and I will hold this ground against the lesser antlions as long as we can."

Gordon winces. The Vortigaunt is right; there are still other antlions to contend with. "Good luck," he says quietly, and streaks out again, shotgun at the ready. If he can just keep that thing away from the scattered mine carts and long-forgotten cars, he might stand a chance.

[vance_prime]

"You too," Alyx murmurs back as he leaves.

No time for further sentiment. There's bugs that need killing.

[acts_of_gord]

There are indeed. And the thing about that is, there is absolutely no resemblance to anything redeeming whatsoever (unlike, say, the possibility of a human face remaining beneath a Combine soldier's mask) that could possibly slow Gordon's trigger hand. He's emptying the shotgun into that thing two barrels at a time, as fast as he can manage running backwards and sideways over uneven ground.

It's faster than you'd think.

In the end, though, what settles the matter is a chunk of debris Gordon had failed to notice. There comes a moment- there always comes a moment- when the suit announces, "Ammunition depleted." In this particular case he's not so much swearing in terror as reaching over his shoulder for a more viable gun when he catches sight of something metallic. That car that got butted at Gordon appears to have lost its entire engine- because something's engine is lying discarded on the grass.

Hitting the bull in the head with the station wagon engine is even better than the radiator back in Ravenholm. Damn he loves that gravity gun.

[vance_prime]

The bull staggers, then slumps in a chitinous heap on the ground.

A few seconds later, the last antlion soldier drops, and Alyx and the Vortigaunt trail out of the shelter toward Gordon's position.

"Nice work, Gordon!"

[acts_of_gord]

"Thanks," says Gordon, panting. He's still not sure what the fracture the suit detected was, but there's a sharper pain in his side than usual. Might've been a rib. "You two all right?"

He slings the gravity gun back in its harness and draws the SMG again. There are still a few loose antlions and they haven't reached the elevator yet.

[vance_prime]

"Yeah. Sorry I couldn't be more help, I'm still a little weak..."

"Well done, Freeman," the Vortigaunt rumbles. "You dispatched those guards with great dispatch!"