The Autumn War Vol. 01: Invasion

"How do you intend to breach those defenses?"

"The fleet will jump in at extreme range, launch a salvo of torpedoes, then time the next jump to coincide with their impact. The Bugs won't have much warning, and they'll have no time to react. They'll get hit with enough ordnance to level a continent, then we'll drop right on top of their heads and mop up whatever's left. Most of their defenses are around the equator, so we'll need to hit them all at once in a 360-degree assault. Once we have control, we'll be able to open up a supply line to Valbara, which is only a jump away."

"Ambitious," she mumbled. "Has anything like this been done before?"

"There's a first time for everything," he replied with a smirk. "Once the gravity well is a graveyard, we'll have free reign to land troops and vehicles wherever we please, and there's nothing the roaches can do about it. We've never encountered a hive this established before, so we're not really sure what they'll be doing on the surface, and we can't get close enough to take a look. Whatever it is, we'll disrupt it. If they have any infrastructure, we'll bomb it to kingdom come, and we'll root out any strongholds they've established. The goal isn't to wipe out their entire population, of course," he added with a dismissive wave of his hand. "Not if we want the moon to be habitable by the time we're done with it."

"The Queen," the Ensi said, Vos nodding.

"The greatest weakness of the Bugs is their rigid, inflexible command structure. We estimate that a Queen with a hive this large will have problems coordinating her forces in real-time. They've never been observed to use anything other than pheromone-based communications, and the Drones aren't very reactive without a direct line to their Queen. If we cut off their lines of communication, isolating the populations from one another, they'll be left in disarray. The main goal will be to locate the Queen's chamber and kill her. With the Queen dead, the hive is doomed. Experience tells us the best way to go about that is through the ground-penetrating radar mounted on our Timberwolf scout vehicles and surveillance craft. We deploy teams to search for the important nexuses in their tunnel networks, which could be quite extensive, and we collapse them. We keep that up, following them to their source until we strike gold and find the main chamber."

"The insects dig deep," the Ensi mused, scrutinizing him with her one eye. "How will you destroy the chamber without doing irreparable damage to the biosphere?"

"We can't use railguns or conventional explosives," he confirmed. "Anything that can reach that deep would cause catastrophic damage to the moon. We have teams who can go inside and get the job done."

"You say that so casually," she scoffed, cocking her head at him. "What kind of person would willingly walk into the heart of a Betelgeusian nest?"

"Technically, they're classed as combat engineers," Vos replied as he leaned back in his chair. "But, they like to call themselves Trogs."

"How colorful," she grumbled. "What of the millions of insects that will remain?'

"They'll be leaderless, unable to mount any kind of organized resistance. We can hunt them down at our leisure."

"You seem confident, considering how little we know about the Kerguelan hive. What if they have evolved and adapted in unexpected ways?"

"Nobody can plan for the unknown," Vos replied, shrugging his shoulders. "Besides, there's an old human adage that applies here. No plan survives contact with the enemy."

"The Valbara'nay do not share that sentiment," the Ensi said.

Vos considered a cutting remark about their performance so far, but thought better of it.

"There is one more thing," he continued, watching her as he carefully considered his next words. "There will be a Jarilan contingent joining the fleet. They'll be serving mostly in an advisory capacity. They're our experts, our bloodhounds, our code-talkers. They know more about how Bugs think than anyone."

The Ensi's feathers flushed red again, her scarred lips curling into a snarl.

"That would be because they are Bugs, Admiral."

"Allied Bugs," he added. "Bugs with as much human DNA as insect."

"I don't even want to ask how that situation came about," the Ensi grumbled.

"Back when the Jarilans joined the Coalition, they made a pledge to help your people retake Kerguela," Vos continued. "The Council of Ensis voted to admit them. I should know, I was in the room when it happened."

"The Council made their consensus, even if I strongly disagree with their decision," she continued. "I am bound to respect it, but nothing requires me to be happy about it."

"They'll be fielding a handful of ships of their own design," he continued, his tiny projector flaring to life again with a flick of his wrist. The hologram displayed a ship, a blend of what looked like flesh and metal. Like the carapace of a pillbug, interlocking plates with the same jet-black veneer and angular design as those of the UNN frigates ran down its spine, crab-like legs protruding from beneath it. On its prow was a cluster of long antennae and more conventional sensor arrays, and there were hardpoints along its back where railguns and missile silos were stowed. As if to better display their allegiance, the black hull was decorated with the blue stripes of the UNN, along with a prominent United Nations wreath.

The Ensi's distaste was palpable as she examined it, the grimacing Valbaran turning up her snout as though the image was emitting a foul odor.

"Just have your people watch their IFF tags," he added, shutting down the device. "We don't want any blue on blue."

"It does seem to be your favorite color," the Ensi muttered.

"Will it be a problem?" he asked, his tone more serious.

"No," she sighed, turning back to the window again. "The Coalition Security Council voted to include them, and I will not go against the consensus."

"Good to know," Vos said, rising from his seat. "I believe that's everything we needed to go over. You know where to reach me if you have any more questions or concerns."

"You should stay a while, Admiral," she added as he made for the door. "My people show great hospitality, even if I do not share their optimistic outlook. The troops that have been on shore leave while waiting for the fleet to assemble seem to have been enjoying themselves."

"Alas, there is much work to be done, but I appreciate the invitation all the same."

He exited through the automatic doors, leaving the surly Ensi to stare out of her window.

***

"Dude, what do they put in those fuckin' hookahs?" Hernandez chuckled as he made his way out of the lounge. He hit his head on the low door frame, cursing to himself as he stumbled out onto the street, a gaggle of passing aliens snickering at him as their feathers flashed.

"You good?" Evan asked, steadying his friend by the arm.

"I'm more than good," he said, rubbing the red mark on his forehead. "I thought this deployment was gonna suck, but this place is like a five-star resort. Good weather, the natives know how to party, and the women!" He did an exaggerated chef's kiss, Evan rolling his eyes. "Never thought I'd end up on a planet where gettin' with five chicks in one night is considered par for the course. I'm tellin' you, man, these Valbaran girls are easy."

"They probably said the same thing about you," Evan replied. "I don't think you're as much of a playboy as you think you are, buddy. They were pretty eager to get you drunk, and they were the ones buying."

"Whatever, man. Still got laid."

They made their way out of the alley and onto a larger street that was separated into two lanes, the middle lined with rows of trees that resembled palms, their leaves colored in hues of blue and purple rather than green. They swayed in the gentle breeze, the air warm, but not oppressively so. To either side of the street, skyscrapers rose up towards the clouds, their innumerable windows glittering in the sunlight. The gravity here was a little lower than Earth's, making Evan feel like he had just shrugged off a heavy pack every time he stepped off the dropship. It was a bit humid, but he liked that. It felt like being on a Caribbean island.

The street was crowded with Valbarans, the short reptiles walking along in groups of between four and six. Everywhere he looked, there were flashes of colorful feathers to indicate emotion, their vibrant headdresses erupting in shades of yellow, pink, and green. He was slowly learning to recognize the different hues, how to interpret their alien body language. It was strangely enjoyable to see someone express happiness or surprise so vividly and from such a great distance. It had an infectious quality, like a smile. Their scales came in varying tones, usually dull greens and tans, with a few of their number sporting downy coverings of protofeathers that made them look more bird-like. Most were female, but the males were easy to spot, their headdresses sporting peacock-like eyespots that picked them out in the crowd.

They wore billowy shirts and tunics that were decorated with colorful patterns, along with form-fitting shorts with a cutout for their long tails. The males tended to dress more elaborately than the females. They donned makeup that accented their eyes and wore jewelry in the form of a pendant that hung around the forehead, usually encrusted with a gemstone. Gender roles in their culture were flipped, with the males being the ones who were expected to preen themselves. They were like tropical birds in that way. The females outnumbered them by a factor of six to one, according to what Evan had read about their planet before his arrival. He wasn't sure if he envied them or pitied them, considering how willful the females could be. Hernandez certainly wasn't complaining.

Some of the aliens were riding curious, two-wheeled scooters, weaving between the pedestrians. Although they were fast and strong for their size, the Valbarans lacked stamina, and they often turned to their scooters and maglev trains when they had to cover any serious distance.

Towering above the smaller natives were more Marines on shore leave, clad in their Navy blue coveralls. Most of them were accompanied by trailing flocks of Valbarans, the little reptiles peering up at them as they chatted in their odd, parrot-like voices. They seemed to have a fondness for humans, not only because of their inherent curiosity of alien species, but because a UNN fleet had saved the planet from certain annihilation at the hands of a hive fleet only a few years prior. Marines were practically celebrities as a result. It wasn't uncommon to enter a store and have some kind of freebie or gift thrust into your hands, or to visit a lounge and have multiple strangers offer to buy you drinks. Random people would frequently approach him to ask him for pictures, and the more confident females wouldn't hesitate to hit on him if they saw an opportunity. Being accosted by one female would be bad enough, never mind five or six all trying to woo him at once in their usual rapid-fire way. Not that he minded the attention.

"When do you think we're shipping out?" Evan asked, stepping out of the way of a procession of passing scooters.

"Can't be long now," his friend replied, still swaying a little under the influence of whatever he had been smoking. "We've been here for...how long now, nearly a month? At this rate, the admiralty is gonna kick off the war on principle alone so they don't have to keep payin' us to get shitfaced."

They made their way towards a nearby park, one of the bands of greenery that separated the more developed sections of the city. Rolling hills rose up to either side of the winding footpath, the landscapers having carefully crafted them to obscure the nearby buildings from view, patches of cultivated trees adding to the effect. It was possible to step right off a busy street and still feel like you were in the middle of a nature preserve.

The branches rustled in the breeze, strange, alien birds flitting between them in sudden spurts of frenzied movement. Like the Valbarans themselves, they were more reptile than avian, like little lizards that were covered in colorful feathers. They watched the strangers pass below with their large, shiny eyes, the vibrant crests that ran down their necks rising to show off their patterns.

The grass here was green, but there were patches of purple bushes and blue ferns that added a splash of color. Evan followed the sound of running water, turning a corner into a more open area of grassland that was surrounded by trees. At its center was a flowing stream that fed into a small lake, its surface covered over with flowering plants that resembled water lilies.

Hernandez flopped onto the grass, letting out a long sigh as he stretched out on his back.

"How much of that crap did you smoke?" Evan chuckled, sitting down beside him.

"I dunno, all of it?" he mumbled. "Valbarans are fuckin' tiny, I didn't think they'd be able to handle that much. Fuckers smoked me under the table."

A sudden splash disturbed the peace, Evan looking over at the pool, where a large mass was rising up from its surface. Water cascaded over its scaly shoulders, sloughing between the armored scutes that ran down its spine, one of the yellow flowers sitting atop its head like a tiny hat. It flopped down onto the grassy shore, the impact making the ample fat deposits on its sixteen-foot body wobble, the creature letting out a rumbling bellow. Evan relaxed when he saw that it was just a Krell, not some native lake monster. Even the alligator-like aliens were enjoying their shore leave. The beast rolled onto its back to bask in the sun, idly scratching the scales on its underside with a hand that had far too many fingers. For creatures that served as living bulldozers and pillboxes in combat, they behaved like giant, lazy dogs when off-duty.

More noise drew Evan's attention, and he looked back at the footpath to see a Valbaran family walking along the dirt track. There were four females in their flock, along with a male, all of them trying to wrangle a group of half a dozen squawking children. The juveniles were barely larger than iguanas, racing around with a level of hyperactivity that would put a human toddler to shame. One of them was dangling from one of its father's feather sheaths, swinging back and forth, the exhausted parent seeming to have accepted this as his lot in life.

When they saw the Krell, the children hurried over to it, the giant creature like a living mountain in comparison to their tiny frames. It was so large that they could have comfortably sat in the palm of its hand. A couple of them clambered up onto its belly, jumping up and down, another sitting in the grass beside its enormous head to show off a small toy of what looked like an orange dinosaur. Fortunately, the Krell were known for their gentleness, and this one didn't even seem to notice that it was being used as an impromptu bounce house.

The parents quickly came to snatch them up, but Evan noted that it wasn't for fear of the Krell. They were apologizing to the alien as they captured their squirming offspring, the Krell letting out a low huffing sound that might have been laughter.

It said something about how the average Valbaran viewed the Coalition if they were comfortable letting their kids play around aliens that could have crushed them just by rolling over in their sleep.

There was a buzzing from Evan's pocket, and he reached for his phone, the display flaring to life at his touch. When he heard Hernandez's wrist-mounted computer chiming a moment later, he knew what was happening without even needing to look at the alert.

"Fuck, you jinxed us," he grumbled. "Fleetcom wants us back on the carriers ASAP. Looks like it's time."

The Krell, too, had a strap around its wrist with a holographic projector. It opened one eye as it raised the device, then rumbled to itself, ponderously rolling onto its belly. It struggled to its feet, shaking itself off like a wet dog, then started to lumber back in the direction of the spaceport.

"Fuck, I gotta sober up," Hernandez muttered as he lifted himself off the grass. "I'm too fuckin' high to handle gettin' yelled at for bein' high right now."

***

The maglev train sped along its elevated track silently, the only sensation of motion coming from the landscape that was racing past beyond the windows. Evan was sat beside Hernandez in seats that were a little too small for a human, watching the trees and matte-white buildings zip by below them. The rest of the seats were occupied by natives, but there were a few more humans along for the ride who had been called back to the carrier too. They'd be making their way in from all over the city.

The tall control tower of the spaceport rose up ahead of them, and the train passed over a wall that separated the port from the woodland outside, slowly sliding to a stop inside a raised platform that was little more than a glass awning on stilts.

Spaceports on Valbara were a little different from those he was used to. On Earth, spaceports were sprawling complexes built around orbital tethers. They handled both conventional spaceplanes and shuttles, and they also sent passenger cars up and down the elevators. The tethers were attached to orbital stations where vessels too large to make landfall would dock to transfer people and cargo.

The Valbarans hadn't developed orbital tethers by the time they had made contact with the Coalition, and they primarily relied on spaceplanes and heavy lifters to make orbit. There were several long runways, as well as a few dozen hangars where the craft were stored when not in use, a relatively small control complex occupying the right side of the compound. Commercial space flight wasn't a common occurrence on this planet yet, and these ports were mostly reserved for military use.

As the train came to a stop, Evan saw that there were a couple of dozen Valbaran dropships lined up, ready to taxi onto the runway. They were about twenty meters long, their streamlined hulls and layers of protective heat tiles reminiscent of the craft used in the early days of humanity's expansion into the solar system. He gave Hernandez a nudge, gesturing to the Valbaran troops that were loading into them.

"Check it out," he said, Hernandez turning his head groggily. "Looks like the Valbarans got the call too. There's gotta be five hundred of them out there."

"Don't the Commandos usually wear green and purple camo?" Hernandez mused, watching a group of the aliens jog up a troop ramp. "Their uniforms are red and orange."

"You think it matches Kerguela's terrain?" Evan asked. "Red deserts, maybe. Fuck, I hope it's not deserts. I had enough of that when I was on Borealis."

"They'll give us a proper briefin' eventually. Come on, let's get movin'."

They got off the train car and made their way off the platform, following a crowd of Marines over to a row of UNN dropships. The craft were idling on landing pads that had been painted on the asphalt on the other side of the runways. The Valbaran ships had limited VTOL capabilities, so these had likely been made specifically for their Coalition guests. There was already a sizable crowd of personnel waiting to board them, Evan spotting a pack of feline Borealans towering head and shoulders above their human counterparts, along with a couple of Krell.

There was a rumble as one of the dropships lifted off the ground, the thrusters along its hull shooting jets of blue hydrogen flame as it slowly rose into the air, a trio of wheeled landing gear retracting into hatches beneath its flush belly. When it was high enough, its main engines began to burn, the craft curving up towards the sky on its stubby wings.