The Autumn War Vol. 02: Remnants

Xipa peeked out of cover to get a look. The expansive office had been turned into a war zone. There were upturned tables and chairs all over the place, planters filled with burning foliage, and now shards of broken glass scattered around the room. Every wall and surface seemed to be marked with burns and slug holes. There were dead Bugs everywhere, charred and dismembered, their mucous-colored fluids staining the floor. There were maybe a dozen left alive that she could see, slowly advancing as they traded sporadic fire with the scouts, who were losing ground on the right side of the office. Ruza was still guarding the injured woman, popping out of cover to fire over the divider again, painting an unfortunate Drone's brains on the wall behind it.

There was another sound of shattering glass from the far end of the room, Xipa peering over the dividing walls to see the long window beside the artificial waterfall start to break. Someone was smashing through it from the inside. As she watched, she caught a glimpse of two Valbara'nay - members of the lost scout teams - punching holes in the window with the butts of their rifles. They quickly shouldered the weapons, firing down into the unsuspecting Bugs through the jagged breaches, the flashes of emerald light illuminating their snarling faces.

They had opened up a second front, dividing the enemy's attention. Two more Drones fell under their withering fire as the aliens scrambled to get clear, reduced to smoking husks, their counterparts starting to shoot at the window. They melted holes in the glass that was still intact, some of the bolts splashing against the wall as they went wide, leaving blackened marks. It was enough to force the shooters back out of view, but the opening was just what was needed to break the stalemate.

"They're distracted!" Miqi yelled, waving her people on as she hopped deftly over a mushroom-riddled couch. She raised her plasma rifle, the rails crackling as she sent another of the creatures scrambling for safety. "Push up!"

Xipa and Bluejay followed, moving up the left side of the room. As Xipa advanced, she noticed something rising into view above the dividing walls at the far end of the office. There was a trio of Drones climbing up the waterfall, scaling the artificial rock with their four arms. They leapt up onto the platform beside it, smashing their way through the broken glass, disappearing into the shadowy interior.

"Bluejay!" Xipa hissed into her radio, the Jarilan following her gaze. "If we don't get up there right now, there won't be anyone left to save! When we were outside the city wall, you said that you should be able to carry me, right?"

He got the picture right away, holstering his sidearm as he moved behind her, shrugging off his pack. She felt him grip her rucksack with all four of his hands, taking a firm hold of the straps.

"I'm gonna need some cover," he warned. "We'll be sitting ducks up there. How much ammo do you have left?"

"Ten slugs," she replied, checking the counter on her HUD. "It'll have to be enough. Miqi!" she yelled, getting the scout's attention. "We need suppressive fire!"

Miqi didn't bother to ask why, directing her people to start firing with a flash of feathers, the air filling with a barrage of plasma. There was a flutter as Bluejay extended his gossamer wings, their protective covers opening up, the powerful muscles beneath them flexing as he prepared to take flight. They became a blur, the buzzing sound filling Xipa's helmet, her feet leaving the floor. He lifted her up into the air, the straps of her pack digging into her shoulders, Xipa swinging as he began to accelerate. She felt like she should have been afraid, but she trusted Bluejay implicitly, and her people had never been shy of heights.

From this vantage point, she had a bird's-eye view of the Bugs as they exchanged plasma fire with the scouts. A couple of them raised their rifles towards her, but she reacted quickly, firing down between her legs with her XMR to force them to scatter. She could barely hold the weapon straight, the recoil making it jump in her hands with nothing to brace it against, but it had the desired effect all the same. They sailed over the office, Bluejay flying them through the already broken window like a missile, Xipa crunching broken glass underfoot as he deposited her on the carpeted floor. He set down behind her, his wings folding back beneath their casings as he drew his handgun.

They found themselves in what had once been a lavish lounge that overlooked the office beyond. This was probably where the executives and higher-ups in the company would have come to unwind and hold meetings. The tables here were made from polished stone rather than spartan metal and polymer, and the chairs were more like those one might find in a lounge, covered in plush padding that had succumbed to mold. There were potted plants in the corners of the room, as well as a couple of vending machines that would have dispensed drinks and snacks, too dirty now to make out what was inside them. The only battle damage in here had come from Bugs firing into the room from outside, leaving the ceiling and the far wall burned in places.

A cry of alarm echoed from an open door to their left, Xipa and Bluejay hurrying out into a narrow corridor in search of its source. At the end of a short, carpeted hallway was another door, and the trio of Drones that Xipa had seen climbing the waterfall were trying to break through it. One of them fired a plasma rifle at the obstacle, but the metal absorbed the heat of the bolt, the creature lashing out with a kick in an attempt to break it down. When that didn't work, it scrambled to push its fingers into the groove between the door and the wall, trying to pull the sliding panel back.

They soon noticed the newcomers, turning to face them. Bluejay raised his XMH, but Xipa pulled him back into the conference room before he could fire, the pair narrowly avoiding a hail of plasma.

"Your slugs will go straight through that door!" she protested. "That's got to be where the survivors are hiding!"

"Even if I turn down the voltage?" he asked.

"I don't know what that door is made of or how thick it is!" Xipa replied. "We can't risk it!"

"Okay, okay," he conceded. "Idea - give me your sidearm."

"What, why?"

"Just trust me!"

She did as he asked, handing him her XMH. Bluejay held one in his upper pair and the second in his lower, putting his back to the wall beside the open door that led into the little room, readying himself. Xipa began to ask what his plan was, but he shushed her, going quiet as he concentrated on something. Suddenly, he spun around, unloading both handguns into the wall. Dust sprayed as the slugs punched through the thin material, the sound of gunfire dampened by Xipa's helmet. Bluejay moved closer to the door, then leaned out, letting off a couple more shots that were angled down towards the floor.

"Clear!" he announced, tossing Xipa's handgun back to her. "Here. Mine's empty."

She followed him out into the hallway, seeing a pile of dead Bugs, their ichor splattered on the far wall. The holes where the slugs had passed through were still smoking.

"How the hell did you do that?" Xipa asked.

"I don't have ears," he explained, pausing to pick up one of their rifles as he stepped over the bodies. "Jarilans hear by picking up vibrations through our exoskeletons. I put my back to the wall, and when I felt their footsteps pass by, I fired."

Bluejay approached the door, and not knowing what else to do, he knocked politely. Xipa hurried to push him out of the way as the door cracked open, a violet eye peering through the gap. The stranger looked first at Xipa, then at her Jarilan companion, her eye widening in alarm.

"Green!" Bluejay protested, tapping the sign that Miqi had hung around his neck. "It's fucking green! Come on!"

"He is a friend," Xipa said. "There is much to explain, and little time."

The woman hesitated, but the pile of dead Drones behind them seemed to convince her. After a few moments of fumbling and what sounded like furniture scraping on the floor, she slid the door open. Xipa and Bluejay stepped into an upscale office, just as lavish as the conference room had been. It was frigid, a cold wind blowing through the broken window through which the purple tarp had been hung, while the marble desk and all of the chairs had been pushed to one side of the door. They must have been using them as a barricade.

Huddled on the far side of the room, taking cover behind an upturned table, were five scouts. That made six survivors, including the one who had opened the door - barely enough for one flock. Two of them had plasma rifles, while the rest were clutching improvised melee weapons that ranged from hammers to picks. Two of them were injured, one of them sporting a bandage over her face, while the other had her arm hanging in a makeshift sling.

"We've come to rescue you," Xipa insisted as she watched them bristle at the sight of Bluejay. "We're here with Miqi."

"Miqi?" one of the injured women asked, her feathers flashing lime in a blend of surprise and relief. "Miqi is here?"

"We need to get the hell out of here," Bluejay warned, checking that the plasma rifle he'd picked up still had some charge left. "We don't know if they've secured the office yet."

"We need to move," Xipa said, relaying his concerns to the survivors. "We have more people fighting in the offices below. Can you all walk?"

They gave her a series of affirmative flutters, starting to rise to their feet. It looked like they had been through hell. Their clothes were torn and tattered, a few of them singed in places. One of the women had a tunic soaked with blood that couldn't possibly be her own - there was too much of it. Xipa was surprised to see a male among them, his smaller stature picking him out. He was dressed the same as his female counterparts, and he was missing a feather sheath on his forearm - an old wound that had long since healed.

As they approached the door, they saw movement at the other end of the corridor, several more Drones barging their way in through the entrance to the conference room. Everyone scattered to get out of their line of sight as a burst of plasma fire sailed into the office, the group splitting in half. Xipa threw her shoulder against the wall beside the door frame, then leaned out to dump her magazine into the corridor. The XMH was less powerful than the rifle variant, but at such close range, the slugs tore through the enemy ranks like they were made of wet paper.

The two at the front dropped like stones, those that were grouped up behind them in the narrow space jerking and twitching as fragments of shattered carapace and tumbling slugs sprayed them. Still, they returned fire, keeping up their advance with a borderline suicidal fervor. Bluejay and the two armed survivors did their best to help, but the plasma bolts from their captured rifles didn't have the penetrative power of the XMH.

"I'm dry!" Xipa warned, dropping the empty magazine from her sidearm. She heard a click from Bluejay, who glanced down at his empty gas canister with a snarl of frustration.

One of the two remaining Drones shouldered its way into the room, a plasma pistol and a chitin saber drawn, but Bluejay darted into its path. He drew a combat knife from his belt, his limbs a blur as he grappled with the alien, driving it back into the corridor. The thing tried to swing its blade at him, but he stuck close, practically hugging its armored torso with three of his arms as he used a lower to plunge the serrated knife into the gaps between its plates repeatedly. In only seconds, he had stabbed it a dozen times, his blade wet with its ichor. The Drone hissed and chittered, its movements jerky and unpredictable, its claw-like fingers tearing at Bluejay's carapace as it tried to break free of his grip. Some of the paint on his shell was stripped away, leaving trails of iridescent blue like scars as his true colors were exposed. It fired its pistol, which hit the ceiling above, showering the pair in dust as they wrestled.

Bluejay just kept stabbing, his opponent's struggling growing less enthusiastic as it appeared to tire, the numerous wounds on its thorax seeping green fluid. He threw the Drone against the wall, holding it there with his upper pair of hands as he gave it another stab with a lower, driving the combat knife up to the hilt in its sternum. He appeared to have hit something vital, the Drone starting to slide down to the floor as its limbs went limp.

The second Drone was coming for him now, Bluejay stepping out of its reach as it swung a chitin saber at him, the blade embedding itself in the wall where his head had been a moment prior. One of the survivors raised her rifle as though intending to fire, but quickly lowered it again. She had no clean shot, and the risk of hitting Bluejay was too great.

Bluejay dropped to a low stance, passing his blade between his hands, keeping his enemy guessing as the Drone sized him up. Its mandibles were flexing, the serrated mouthparts clicking against one another, its eyes inscrutable behind the lenses of its helmet. Before it could level its pistol, Bluejay darted forward, thrusting his knife towards its stomach. As he lunged, it side-stepped him, gripping the wrist of his outstretched lower arm in its hand. It brought that heavy blade down on his elbow, severing the limb in one clean blow. It fell to the carpet, the hand still clutching the knife, Bluejay letting out a wail of pain that was muffled by his helmet. Taking advantage of his shock, the Drone delivered a savage kick to his midsection, sending him toppling onto his back as it raised its weapon to finish him off.

Xipa sprang into action, drawing her Betelgeusian blade from its scabbard as she dashed into the hallway. The Drone didn't notice her until she was close - it was too preoccupied with its impending kill - Xipa leaping over Bluejay's prone form. She landed on the Drone without enough force to knock it to the ground, plunging the ornate blade of the dagger into its chest, gripping the textured haft with both hands. Ichor splattered her visor as the weapon sank deep into its flesh, parting the layers of chitin with an ease that surprised her. Fluid spilled from between the Drone's mandibles, staining the dirty carpet beneath it, a hiss of air escaping the thing like a deflating balloon as it ceased its twitching. She stood over it, yanking the dagger out of its chest, its ichor seeping down the flowing channels that were carved into the blade.

"Bluejay!" she exclaimed, turning to see him struggling to his feet. One of his lower arms now ended at the elbow, a slow drip of off-green fluid falling to the floor as he leaned against the wall unsteadily. "Oh no...your arm!"

She rushed over to help him, but he extended a hand to stop her.

"I'm...I'm okay," he grumbled, swaying a little as he stooped to pick up his severed appendage. He peeled the fingers open to retrieve his knife, stowing it on his belt, then tossed the limb aside like a spent mag. After arming himself with a Bug pistol, he checked its charge, then nodded to her. "Still got three left, right?"

"Y-you're okay?" she repeated skeptically. "We have to get you to Ruza. Maybe he can-"

"They can grow me a new one back on the ship," he said, the strain in his voice apparent. "More of an inconvenience than a maiming, really. Hurts like a bitch, though. Thanks for having my back," he added, straightening up.

"We've all saved each other's lives enough that it's becoming unremarkable," Xipa chuckled dryly. "Come on - we have to get back to the others."

She called for the survivors to follow her, a couple of them recoiling at the sight of Bluejay's severed limb as they stooped to arm themselves with whatever they could find. They had gone from wanting to shoot him on sight to tolerating his presence very quickly when compared to Miqi and her people, but that tended to happen when someone shanked your enemies to death right in front of you.

"Is...is that...thing going to be alright?" the woman with the sling asked as she picked up a plasma pistol with her good hand.

"So he says," Xipa replied, wiping her dagger on her thigh before picking up a rifle. She checked the canister, then began to stalk down the ichor-stained hallway.

"You're not from here, are you?" the woman asked as she hurried to match pace. "Your clothes, your weapons...your insect."

"Technically, I am," Xipa replied. She leaned into the conference room through the open door, checking that it was clear, then made her way inside. "I'll explain everything when we're not under immediate threat of being shot." She reached up to tap at the touch panel on her helmet, patching into Ruza's video feed. She couldn't see much, as he was still treating the scout with the plasma burn on her shoulder, crouched behind a wall. "Ruza," she began, switching to English. "We found the survivors! What's the situation down there? Are we clear to come back down?"

He rose to his feet, looking over the divider at the broken window beside the waterfall. Xipa caught a glimpse of the office, seeing that Miqi and her scouts had been victorious. The rest of the Bugs were dead, one of the women finishing off an injured insect with a hammer in the bottom left of the frame as it lay beside a partially melted desk.

"It is safe to descend," Ruza replied.

Xipa called down to the scouts before approaching the window, waving to them as her suit panels flashed green. They quickly descended via the platforms and walkways, making it back down to the office floor. Bluejay extended his wings again, flitting on the air like a falling leaf as he gently descended. Miqi stepped out from behind a wall, shaking ichor off her claw hammer, then slid off her helmet so that she could shake out her feathers.

"Miqi!" the woman with the sling exclaimed. Miqi's headdress flared green when she saw her, and she vaulted over a table, sprinting across the room. More of the survivors stepped forward to meet her, the five of them sharing a group hug, Xipa smiling inside her helmet as the emotional reunion turned her color panels the same hue. These must be the flockmates that Miqi had spoken of. They pressed their snouts together in a gesture of affection, their relief palpable.

"You're alive, all of you," Miqi said with a sputter that was half a laugh and half a stifled sob. "I was starting to think that we wouldn't find you in one piece."

"More or less," the woman with the sling chuckled, gesturing to her broken arm.

"I'm so sorry," Miqi continued, grimacing as she fought back tears. "I should have been here with you. I should have-"

"You're here now, and that's all that matters," another of the survivors said. "You must have fought through hell to reach us."

"I won't say it was easy," she replied, glancing at the two remaining survivors - the male and the woman with the bandage on her face. "Izel, Meca," she continued as her tone became more solemn. "Just...just you two? Is the rest of your flock..."

"They gave their lives for ours," the male replied, his stoic expression surprising Xipa. A male from the homeworld would be inconsolable in this situation. "Listen, Miqi, we have to get back to the Ensis and report what we've seen. This wasn't just a routine scout mission gone bad."

"Later," Miqi replied, stepping away from her flock. She strapped her gas mask back over her face, then lifted her rifle. "We have people waiting for us. We have to get out of here as soon as possible." Her head turned in the direction of Bluejay, and she hesitated, no doubt noticing his arm. "What happened to the insect?"

"It fought to save us," the woman with the sling replied. "Damn near died in the process, too. One of the Drones took its arm off."