The Autumn War Vol. 02: Remnants

She thought of Bluejay as far more than a tool now, but it wasn't something she was about to admit to people who had been living under insect tyranny for thirty rotations.

"And, what is your role in this?" the scarred Ensi continued. "Why does the commander of a fleet put herself in such danger to investigate a distress signal emanating from a dead world? That is why you never returned for us, is it not? You assumed that we were all lost?"

"I was born on Kerguela," Xipa replied, some of her usual fire returning now. "I was among the first generation raised here, and when the insects came, I was serving in the guard. That day is forever burned into my mind, and into my scales," she added with a hiss as she gestured to her scarred face. "We fought our way off the moon, but I lost my flock in the process. I made defending Valbara my life's work, and when the homeworld was secured, we turned our sights here. We didn't have the resources or the technology to return until we joined the Coalition, and now, we have the might of their fleets at our backs. There are hundreds of ships in orbit and half a million troops waging a ground war to exterminate the insects as we speak. I recognized your signal as an emergency beacon from my time in the guard, and I made searching for survivors my personal responsibility."

"It seems that you have succeeded," the scarred Ensi replied with a hint of sarcasm. "We never knew whether the few ships that escaped that day ever made it back, or whether Valbara even existed anymore. With each rotation that passed, it became more likely that the homeworld had suffered the same fate as Kerguela."

"How many of you are there?" Xipa added with an impatient flutter of yellow. "Are you in contact with survivors in any other cities? We elected to travel here through the forest so as not to draw unwanted attention, and on our way, we encountered enemy patrols that were heading towards your walls. We must organize an evacuation, and quickly."

"Yes, they are investigating our beacon just as you are," one of the Ensis replied. "They are attracted to radiation emissions, be they thermal, EM, or optical. We knew that we would draw them to us if we tried to signal you, but it was deemed worth the risk. We have survived this long by staying hidden, by ensuring that the insects never see us as a large enough threat to warrant a response. The odd Drone patrol or Hunter here and there is rarely missed, but their incursions have become more frequent since the beacon was activated, and insects from the nearby forests have made their way inside the walls. They know that we are here, and I fear that it will not be long before they come in force."

"There are many living in this community," another added cryptically. "We have made a life for ourselves beneath the city. Those that survived the invasion retreated to these tunnels, and in time, we learned to do more than just subsist. You have seen but a glimpse of what we were able to build here."

"Our apologies if your first impression of our people was a little...adversarial," the scarred Ensi said as she gestured to the masked woman who stood guard nearby. "A generation has been raised here that has never known a world that was not under the heel of the insects. They were born in these tunnels, and their lives have been one of constant struggle and danger. Some of them even have their own children now."

"I was not expecting such an organized group," Xipa admitted. "Frankly, I had to argue with my peers to convince them that your survival was even a remote possibility."

"Understand that we know next to nothing about you," another Ensi added. "About what you have become in the time that we have been isolated here. There are some who may not want to leave, who will wish to stay to defend their home. We have learned to be self-sufficient, to be independent. Do you intend to compel them?"

"Compel them?" Xipa repeated, glancing between the trio in confusion. "You activated the distress beacon - you called for help. Why would I have to compel you to do anything?"

"We did not call you here to evacuate us," the scarred Ensi replied. "If you are here to eradicate the insect infestation as you claim, then you can help us secure this city."

"Secure the city?" Xipa scoffed, giving them a flutter of disbelieving yellow. "I don't think you appreciate the situation that you're in. We estimate that there are fifteen million enemy troops on the moon. They have advanced weaponry - armored vehicles, anti-air capabilities. The most successful tactic so far has been to use our assault carriers to hop tank battalions between objectives, then retreat back into orbit before the Bugs have time to respond. If you believe that there's a Bug force moving on this city, then we need to get your people to safety immediately. Do you really want to run the risk of being overrun now, after all this time, just to avoid spending a few months on Valbara while we secure the moon?"

"Months could turn into rotations," the scarred Ensi replied. "It will become apparent to you the more time you spend here, but we are no longer the same people that you left behind."

She ended her sentence with a sting, one that pierced Xipa's heart. She wanted to defend herself, to justify what had happened, but doing that now would only make her look as guilty as she felt.

"These last thirty rotations have changed us, and returning to some scenic residential band is no longer an option," another of the Ensis added. "Most of us have never known that life and have no desire for it. We have bled for this city, and we will not abandon our posts now that the time has finally come to retake it once and for all."

"So...you want our support, but you don't want to be evacuated?" Xipa clarified with a skeptical flutter of her feathers. "What are you suggesting, that we deploy troops to secure the city, then hold it until the end of the conflict?"

"With all the ships at your disposal, is that unreasonable?" another Ensi asked.

"It's not impossible, but we're running a military operation here," Xipa protested. "We're attacking hundreds of locations all around the moon simultaneously. We might not have the resources to spare for your vanity project." That gave the three Ensis pause, and they shared concerned glances. "If you care about your people, then let me evacuate them to safety," she continued with a flash of frustrated red. "How many are there? I can establish a secure perimeter and shuttle them into waiting carriers before the Bugs even realize what's happening."

"And let them overrun the homes that we have kept safe for thirty rotations?" the scarred Ensi scoffed.

"We'll clear it out and resettle you as soon as it's safe," Xipa insisted.

"This is our fight," the scarred Ensi snarled, slamming a fist on the table. "We intend to see it through."

"Perhaps you will see the situation from our perspective if you spend a couple of days living among our people," another added, calming her colleague with a flutter of pacifying green. "You are an Ensi. You know what it means to represent your constituents. Speak to the people, and you will understand."

"Two days," Xipa replied, rising to her feet. "I dare not wait any longer. What of my team? I ask that they be released into my custody."

"They shall be released," the rightmost Ensi replied. "Save for the insect, that is. We cannot have it roaming the tunnels - it will terrify the people."

"That insect is a member of my team," Xipa snarled. "There are millions more like it - fighting on this planet and others. This is a reality that you will have to accept one way or another."

"We cannot-"

"Release it into my custody, or I will leave immediately," Xipa added with an icy stare. "If I find that you have subjected it to any mistreatment, you will have more than the insects to worry about."

It was a bluff, of course. She had no intention of abandoning these people, but the Ensis didn't know that. The three exchanged a few hushed whispers, then the scarred one spoke up.

"Very well. We will release the insect on the condition that you are solely responsible for it. If anything goes awry, we will hold you accountable."

Xipa gave them an affirmative feather flutter, another of the women looking to the masked guard.

"Miqi, please escort our guest to the holding cells, then find some temporary accommodation for her and her team," she said. "Will you be needing food?" she added, glancing back over to Xipa.

"Thank you, but that won't be necessary," Xipa replied. "We have supplies enough to feed ourselves."

"Miqi will be looking after you during your stay," the scarred Ensi added, sliding the XMR back across the table. Xipa picked it up, then slung it over her shoulder. "Please address any questions or concerns to her."

She was to be their guard, then. It was something that Xipa had anticipated. She gave a respectful feather display, then turned to the door, Miqi following behind her. It was only when they emerged onto the catwalk that overlooked the farm that the woman finally pulled back her cowl and removed her mask for the first time, shaking out her sheaths. She was younger than the Ensis, maybe twenty rotations old, which was consistent with what they had said during the meeting. This woman must have been born after the invasion, and had lived out her entire life in the shadow of the Betelgeusians. A single day spent fighting the invaders had turned Xipa's life upside-down - she couldn't imagine living here permanently, contending with those stakes every day.

"So, you were born here too?" Miqi asked. "You saw the invasion, like the Ensis?"

"I did," Xipa replied, gesturing to her burned visage. "We evacuated the Belomor spaceport on the first day of the attack, and we barely made it out. I lost all of my flockmates in the process."

Miqi gestured to Xipa's belt, where the Betelgeusian dagger was still sheathed. Xipa reached down to draw it, slowly handing it over to Miqi, who weighed it in her hand.

"This is an insect dagger," she mused, admiring the flowing patterns that ran down its blade. "It's old - they don't use these anymore. You took this as a trophy before the evacuation, no?"

"Not exactly," Xipa replied, reaching out to take it back. "This is the knife that killed one of my flockmates. I kept it. I wanted...to return it to its rightful owners."

"I didn't want to confiscate it from you," Miqi added as they began to walk along the platform, their footsteps echoing through the cavernous chamber. "Nobody carries something like that if it doesn't hold some special importance to them. What is that, by the way?" she added as she nodded to the XMR.

"It's a kind of handheld coilgun," Xipa replied, holding up the weapon. "It's of Earth'nay design, but I've come to appreciate it. The recoil takes some getting used to, especially if you're only familiar with laser weapons, but it packs a punch."

"We take most of our weapons from our enemies," Miqi said as she opened her cloak to show the pistol that hung from a loop on her hip.

"Miqi, how many people are living here?" Xipa asked. "I'd like to formulate some kind of idea of how long it would take to evacuate them."

"About nine hundred," she replied, opening a door for Xipa as they reached the far end of the catwalk. "They won't go, though."

"Why?" Xipa asked, pausing in the corridor beyond. "I understand that this is your home and that you're protective of it, but it isn't going anywhere. Wouldn't you rather come back in a few months to find it completely free of Bugs? You could start to rebuild, to reclaim your lives."

"We already have lives here," she explained. "I think that's what the Ensis want you to learn."

"Where's your flock, by the way?" Xipa asked as they continued on. "Are they..."

"They're fine," she replied, turning left down one of the identical hallways. "I've noticed that the older folks don't like to be separated from their flocks. I suppose the younger generation has learned to be more flexible. There's a lot of work to do, and not much of it requires six pairs of hands."

"You have males here?" Xipa asked. "Children?"

"Of course," Miqi chuckled, a flash of amused yellow passing through her feathers. "Wouldn't be much of a society if we didn't. The males work, too. I'm told that's unusual, but we don't have the resources to spare for people who don't pull their weight."

These people truly had diverged from the norms of the society that birthed them, shaped by necessity and hardship into something that was becoming less recognizable the more Xipa saw of it. They made their way through the spartan corridors, pipes and cables from the old machinery protruding here and there, eventually arriving at the holding cell. It was little more than an old storage area that had been sectioned off behind a barred door, two guards standing to either side of it. They looked up at Xipa as she approached, scrutinizing her strange clothing. At Miqi's command, they opened the door, Xipa stepping inside to see her companions sitting on the empty floor. Nobody looked any worse for wear save for Bluejay, who was still trying to pick pieces of silk off his carapace. They rose to their feet, Gustave loosing a low, rumbling greeting that startled the guards. The ceiling in here was low enough that his scaly head scraped it.

"Are you all alright?" Xipa asked.

"It's about time," Fletcher grumbled. "Have you managed to convince our new friends that we're not here to steal their canned food?"

"We're free to explore the compound," Xipa replied. "You have to understand that this is a lot for them to take in. They've never heard of the Coalition, and they never knew that there were aliens other than the Bugs until now."

"I hope they're fast learners," Fletcher muttered, rolling one of his shoulders.

"What about me?" Bluejay asked.

"You're free to join us," she replied. "Just...keep in mind the situation that these people have been living in for the last thirty rotations. They're going to be even more mistrustful of you than the rest of us. Maybe don't wander off alone while you're here."

"Business as usual, then," he sighed. "I'm really getting tired of starting from square one with everyone I meet."

"Square negative fifty in this case," Fletcher chuckled.

"I just had a conversation with the Ensis - the leaders of this community," Xipa explained. "Come on. I'll tell you everything that they told me while we go get your equipment."

***

"So, they're not going to leave?" Fletcher asked as he slung his pack over his shoulder. Miqi had led them to a nearby supply room where all of their confiscated gear had been piled alongside other sundries.

"Do they not realize the situation they find themselves in?" Ruza asked, checking his rifle. "They number only nine hundred. There is no possibility that such a force could repel a Betelgeusian attack of any size."

"They seem to think otherwise," Xipa replied with a shrug. "They've survived this long - something that everyone thought was impossible - so maybe there's something we don't know about them. I said that we would stay here for two days, and no longer. By then, we should be able to get a good idea of their capabilities."

"You're not seriously considering their proposal?" Fletcher scoffed, tightening one of the straps on his rig. "I mean...it's doable, but it's not part of Vos' plan. We're supposed to stay mobile."

"I'm not ruling anything out," she replied. "My primary goal is to convince them to leave, obviously, but we can't just abandon them to their fate."

"Well, I hope you're persuasive, because none of us speak parrot."

"Listen," Xipa sighed with a flutter of frustrated red. "These people live a hard life, and one of the best ways that we can prove ourselves to them is to lend a hand. I know that you can't communicate easily, but I'm sure you can find ways to make yourselves useful. This is a tight-knit community, and they need to feel like you're a part of it if we're going to convince them of anything."

"If you say so," Fletcher replied. "So, have they given us a place to stay? I don't really want to be lugging all this shit around."

"Miqi," Xipa said, switching back to the Valbara'nay tongue. "Will you take us to our quarters?"

"This way," she said, struggling to tear her eyes away from the aliens.

"I can see why they made this their base," Fletcher mused as they walked through the corridors. "Looks like they dug it right out of the bedrock. It's as much a bunker as a waste treatment plant."

"The placement of the city above and its sewer system dictates the location of the plant," Xipa explained as they passed by another pair of curious guards. "It is a happy accident that it had to be carved into the bedrock."

"That probably helps block their emissions," Bluejay added. "If they were running generators above ground, the ferals would pick them up."

As they proceeded deeper into the complex, the tunnels grew less spartan and more lived-in. There were crates everywhere that were stacked on metal shelves. Some were old storage barrels, others fashioned from wooden slats. There were even old coolers and polymer tubs of the kind used for storing toys and household items. They were packed with supplies - everything from food and water to scavenged scrap, pieces of rusty metal and reclaimed wood. They were near one of the entrances, so perhaps these items were waiting to be moved to a more permanent storage area.

There were more people here, too. Xipa was inclined to refer to them as civilians, but the line between combatants and non-combatants was blurred. Most people were armed, either with salvaged Bug weapons or a dizzying array of hammers and knives - household and professional tools repurposed for offensive use. Many had the same camouflaged cloaks as Miqi, but most did not, clad instead in worn civilian clothes that had been sewn and patched to keep them usable long after they were intended to be replaced. Miqi had been telling the truth - there were males among the survivors. It wasn't that males on Valbara were barred from taking up jobs, but as the physically smaller and far less numerous sex, they had historically been a protected class that was sheltered from dangerous occupations. The sentiment that males belonged in the home raising children and caring for their flock was still a very pervasive one, so it was odd to see them carrying crates or repairing pipes.

Everyone stopped whatever they were doing to gawk at the procession as they passed by, some of them abandoning their tasks to retreat into nearby side rooms, watching suspiciously through half-closed doors. As expected, the sight of Bluejay had many of them lowering their hands towards their belts and holsters, only the presence of Miqi preventing them from drawing.

After a short walk, they arrived at a long, wide corridor with a rounded ceiling that was lined with half a dozen doors on either side. It was lit by light strips in the ceiling, a fair few of them burnt out. It was still impressive that they had managed to get an electrical system up and running without tipping off the Bugs. Judging by the number of crates and boxes that were stacked everywhere, this was some kind of storage area. As they neared the far end of the corridor, they came across a group of Valbara'nay who were hauling crates out of one of the rooms, piling them onto a wheeled cart that was waiting just outside. They stiffened as the team approached, exchanging flashes of alarmed feather patterns at the sight of the strangers.

"Relax," Miqi said, giving them a flush of calming green. "The situation is under control. These are our guests, by consensus of the Ensis."

"Even the insect?" one of them asked. She was carrying a crate of replacement laser batteries in her hands, heaving it onto the cart to join the rest.