First Contact Fallout

by Aer-ki Jyr

  When the image of Holloi appeared it was color coded to indicate the status of all cities, outposts, residences, and other infrastructure…and of all the green dots, most were pale green, meaning they were functional but depleted. But it was the giant red blot at one location not far from here that dominated his attention. It was like a wound on the planet, and perhaps a fatal one at that, but actual possession of Holloi still remained mostly in Era’tran claws.

  “Zen’zat,” Sol’an asked as Mak’to’ran was getting up to speed. “Is there additional clothing here?”

  “Garuva has an extensive wardrobe available for guests. You may use whatever you like.”

  “Are you done with this one?” she asked Mak’to’ran.

  “Take him.”

  “Show me,” she instructed, then left with the Zen’zat to replace her tight bodysuit that was riddled with burn marks. Mario’topa remained patiently at Mak’to’ran’s side for many minutes before the Era’tran finally spoke.

  “What are they doing?”

  “Who?”

  “Our forces. They are poorly countering the assault. The Zak’de’ron have numerous holes in their lines that could be exploited, yet our forces cluster around defensive positions that make no sense.”

  “I do not know of current events. The Zor’do was cut off intentionally to make it appear abandoned after the first battle.”

  “They are fighting like hatchlings,” Mak’to’ran growled.

  “That may be all that are left,” Mario’topa suggested, regretting the words the moment he said them. And the glare the Era’tran gave him didn’t help.

  “Garuva wasn’t the only one that fought?”

  “No. We hit their assault force with nearly everything we had when they made it to ground. It was said that if they gained a foothold we would lose the war of attrition, so everyone that could fight was volunteering. That’s why I couldn’t find any armor to keep for you. Many wanted to die in that first fight rather than wait for the slaughter thereafter.”

  “Has the empire lost its will to win?” Mak’to’ran asked in a whisper, suddenly realizing how bad things must have been across the galaxy for the Era’tran to behave in this manner.

  “The Zak’de’ron knew how and where to hit us, and you knew where to hit them. We’ve canceled out and left the empire to the Oso’lon and J’gar. Once they took Itaru, they’ve been slowly mopping up territory and avoiding the big fights while the Zak’de’ron focus on the remaining strongholds. Even if we can hold them here, the Oso’lon can come in to finish the fight whenever they wish. And if we try to evacuate, the J’gar fleets will hunt down any rogue ships. Nothing less than a battlegroup is safe to move around. Commerce to Jamtren has completely stopped. Systems are having to fend for themselves. Very few were able to send aid here when the Zak’de’ron arrived.”

  “You see no way to win?”

  “Preserving you was our long term hope, but only a handful of individuals even know you are alive. Eldorat was not killed for two days after he attacked you, so we could not let anyone know that any of you had survived. Those reduced to hatchlings were spirited away where they could anonymously begin another life. You were brought here in secret while the Elder Council began the war. Many wanted to die fighting the Zak’de’ron rather than be obliterated by the Veloqueen. Those that remain want to fight, but to an honorable end. They cannot see anything beyond it.”

  “Who are the Veloqueen?”

  “They are the race Eldorat served,” Mario’topa said warily.

  Mak’to’ran considered that for a moment. “I have no memory of that name.”

  “Sol’an said you had permanently lost a small portion of your memories. I am glad it did not affect your combat skills.”

  “As am I,” he said, turning his attention back to the hologram of the planet and the small panels of selective information he was pulling up rapidly as he multi-tasked with his Sav allowing him to visually and mentally sift through more data in a minute than Mario’topa could get through in an hour.

  “Do we have the forces to hold Holloi?”

  “Possibly. Their reinforcements have been few in recent years, and their progress slow. They need Jamtren to fall as an example to others, yet they creep on as if they have no further strength to divert here. You said the Oso’lon and J’gar had large, intact fleets?”

  “Remaining in their own territory. No counter attack of them was deemed feasible.”

  Mak’to’ran shifted to galactic information from the Urrtren, finding large parts of it were incomplete or cut off entirely, but there was still a great deal of information available. Just not a lot of recent information.

  “Interesting,” he mewed. “They are worried that the Zak’de’ron will betray them, and are making sure they have the upper hand with regards to fleet strength. The Zak’de’ron are doing all the heavy lifting. I thought you said we nearly wiped them out?”

  “The Zak’de’ron race is what I meant. Their servants did not take the early hits. We bypassed them as you outlined. Then they struck us hard in response. When we were fully committed Itaru was taken and the J’gar began poaching the space lanes. After that it became a free for all.”

  “Yet the Urrtren remains mostly intact.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “Intimidation and illusion are both weapons the Zak’de’ron rely upon when they do not have true dominance. They want the rest of the V’kit’no’sat to see Holloi fall. They need them to voluntarily rejoin, because they do not have the strength to force it. Not in time…” he said, switching to the coreward map to see where the Hadarak invasion was…and as he expected, some worlds were already being chewed up by their advance.

  “Are you saying it’s a bluff?”

  “Hatred of the Zak’de’ron would keep every V’kit’no’sat race defiant to the death. They do not have the strength to engage in that fight and win. They had not planned to engage us this early. The Hadarak purge forced them to reveal themselves before they were ready. They would not have attacked us if the Elder Council had not been so stupid to start the war. Now they are committed and know they cannot win and rebuild before the Hadarak sweep up half our territory, if at all. The Oso’lon and J’gar are their lifeline. Have all of them changed allegiance?”

  “No. Ours have remained loyal, but those are the primary targets for the traitors, and they’re starting with the weaker ones now that we don’t have the defense fleets to rally to their aid.”

  “Conquest or destruction?”

  “Conquest, though many are dying when they will not submit. I don’t think they want their races divided anymore.”

  “I concur. They could not prevent it previously, and they must rebuild the illusion of unity. While others would die fighting against the Zak’de’ron, they are conditioned to submit to the Oso’lon and J’gar. By reuniting with them, the Zak’de’ron hope to intimidate and delude those they cannot quickly defeat in battle. All in the hopes of squashing our resistance soon enough that they can turn their attention to the Hadarak and hold onto a portion of the empire while the rest is destroyed.”

  “Will that work?”

  “It is their only option. And I intend to see that it does not work. To do that we must stop them here and hold Holloi, and it is fortuitous that the majority of the planetary defenses are still intact. If what’s left of our defenders stop behaving as hatchlings we can hold the planet. That first battle did save it, Mario’topa. But those that remain seem intent to waste the sacrifices made.”

  “If you reveal yourself the Zak’de’ron will come. So will the Oso’lon and J’gar. You are a higher target than even Holloi.”

  “I know, but remember where we are, little Zen’zat. Remember where we currently stand and who controls it.”

  The epiphany struck Mario’topa a moment later.

  “And he’s currently missing, presumed dead but not confirmed?”

  “Precisely. Bring me the best coder from the techs.”r />
  Mario’topa smiled broadly. “With pleasure, Garuva.”

  10

  May 19, 128800

  Jamtren System (Era’tran capitol)

  Holloi

  Li’nikka was on foot patrol around the small city of Bejdalli when the orders came in, and at first he didn’t believe them. He’d been solo assigned to give this city an Era’tran combat specialist in order to pull together a civil defense unit for when the enemy finally arrived here. Not enough to actually win a fight, but to bleed them of some of their infantry before the pullout happened.

  There were over 800 Era’tran in the city with some 360 Zen’zat serving them, none of which were combat trained. Everyone who had been had long since been called off to fight elsewhere, which Li’nikka wanted to be doing, but instead he was stuck here with a bunch of females and techs, none of which had any fighting skills. And out of all of them there were only 3 that had armor, which had come out of heirlooms and was considerably dated, but far better than nothing.

  He had 34 in his cobbled together unit and was trying to school them in enough basic principles that they would be able to work together to help support him when the enemy got here using their psionics and the small-arms weapons that thankfully there was still a supply of. Armor was scarce, but add-ons were still available. Just no shield generators. Why more hadn’t been readily made he didn’t know. Perhaps they had prioritized the weapons given the fact that shields couldn’t kill any of the enemy.

  But now he was being called away, and he couldn’t believe by who. The orders were coming in from Garuva, whom everyone had thought dead with the rest of the Elders. The chain of command had become so broken that the planetary commander, at least the last he knew, was a mid level warrior only 400,000 years old. He’d ordered them all into defensive positions with the highest priority given to scaling attrition in their favor, but no longer. Garuva had somehow survived and now taken command, and Li’nikka was being called to fight.

  He let out a muted roar of excitement and swung around on the trail outside the city and left the grasslands, ducking inside the nearest gate and heading to one of three ships the city possessed. Two were larger transports, but the third was a short range troop transport designed for Era’tran. Similar to the Zen’zat gunships, the Pill’ew could carry four Era’tran along with a contingent of Zen’zat if needed, but they were able to operate without them.

  Li’nikka didn’t have any worthwhile to take with him anyway, so when he ran up to and under the cozy craft he mentally triggered the underside doors to swing open, then one of four harnesses lowered and locked onto his armor, hauling him inside suspended above the opening. The doors closed below his hanging feet as the gravity altered and he was left more or less floating with just enough to keep him oriented as he interfaced his armor with the ship and began to fly it remotely.

  The Pill’ew lifted up from the city and headed south towards a rendezvous point. Li’nikka didn’t have any further orders than to go there, but after several hours of flying he noticed another Era’tran craft heading in the same general direction, though it was faster and passed him by. An hour after that he began picking up others to the left and right at great distances, all of which were seeming to converge on the same rendezvous point.

  6 hours later the sky was full of ships as he slid into hovering position alongside the others as they waited for more to arrive. There was an armada of small craft here, few of which had any real aerial weapons, but most looked to be small to medium troop carriers of some sort, and those nearest him were not full, which he confirmed via Ikrid as they began passing inquires back and forth without using the comm channels.

  Nobody knew what was going on, only that Garuva had issued attack orders. This wasn’t a defensive maneuver, they were actually going to counterattack the invaders, and many like Li’nikka were saying it was about time and eager to make the assault. When the time finally came they moved out in waves, making a river of small craft flying just above the surface and tracking towards the enemy lines.

  Li’nikka could see what was going ahead through their tactical link, and as a few scattered Zak’de’ron units tried to intercept them 4 Vindendi Zen’zat fighters pulled out of the group and quickly engaged. As far as he knew there weren’t any Vindendi left on the planet, but the fast and agile attack craft made quick work of the interlopers and circled back into the group where they disappeared in the armada that was altering course at the last moment to disguise their true target.

  They swung wide of the main fortifications in Bonnk’ann where the Zak’de’ron were the strongest and instead bypassed them to head towards the ghost town of Tu’vannak. The enemy still possessed it, but the once 3 million population that lived there were now either dead or evacuated. There was no one there to save, and very few enemy to target, yet that’s where Garuva was sending them.

  When they got closer Li’nikka got additional orders, including turning over control of his craft to another ship after he set down in the very heart of the decimated city that was showing a bit more activity than he had thought. There were enemy units scattered around that had to be destroyed, and he was assigned to hunting them. When his wave of ships flew over the city boundaries they broke up, each going to separate locations, and his was an isolated building top where he disengaged from his Pill’ew and dropped a dozen meters out of the underside doors after releasing control of it to the armada.

  The ship remotely flew off without him as he got waypoint information and zonal hunting parameters. Apparently the Zak’de’ron had been using this ghost town as a supply depot, and they hadn’t left very many units here to guard it, given that their army was nearly as depleted as the Era’tran’s was. Li’nikka was to search out and destroy the defending units while other teams took and repaired existing city defenses that the Zak’de’ron had overlooked, some of which were simply out of power.

  They were going to hold portions this city, steal the Zak’de’ron’s useful supplies, and torch the rest. The Zak’de’ron had left them vulnerable and now they were going to pay for that mistake, making Li’nikka wonder why they hadn’t launched this type of attack sooner.

  Then he realized as he looked off the rooftop at the hundreds of craft flying around the city that the Era’tran were leaving a lot of places underdefended in order to make this assault, just like the city he’d been previously assigned to. But going on the offensive just felt right. They were calling the shots now, not moving in response to the Zak’de’ron, and here and now, at least, they were in a mismatched fight in their advantage, and it had been a long time since he could remember having that luxury.

  Li’nikka ran to the rooftop access and moved down through the building using his Ikrid and Lachka to kill enemy infantry scattered inside through the walls before they could even see him coming. Once he cleared the site he moved on to his next waypoint and began hunting mechanized units in a specific zone that was all his, which would give him more of a challenge, but the large walking machines were no match for an Era’tran one on one, and he welcomed the chance to get his claws on something larger than infantry.

  With all the units roaming the air overhead he had good intelligence as to where the enemy was and was not, but there were still overhangs and damaged buildings offering some cover, but he got to his first target within 8 minutes of leaving his landing site and immediately took fire from its two shoulder cannons. The quadruped machine stood slightly taller than him, and was easy to knock down, though its height gave it a big advantage hunting Zen’zat on the ground.

  But he wasn’t Zen’zat.

  Li’nikka fired on it from multiple weapon ports on his armor, seeing the hits disappear into its shields as the walker’s fire likewise disappeared into his, but he wasn’t going to fight a ranged match. He took off running, and lowered his head at just the last moment as the walker tried to sidestep out of the way. He headbutted it in one of the four knee joints and wrapped his thick arms around the legs as they both went t
o the ground…and after that the poorly designed anti-infantry walker had no chance against his melee skills.

  Mak’to’ran watched the attack unfold from Garuva’s war room. The map of the city was too massive to fit in there, so he had to keep zooming in and out as he monitored their progress. Resistance was light, as expected, but already units from other locations were grouping up to mount a counterattack to his counterattack, but they would not get to Tu’vannak before the supply depots were hit.

  Mak’to’ran had been worried about the fighting caliber of the troops that remained, but they were doing exceptionally well in the mismatch, as they should, and he was happy to be able to deliver them an easy victory after so many years of defeats, but this was just his opening move. He needed to keep a close watch on the individual units fighting in the city to make sure no debacles happened, and he’d already had to give a few extra orders to specific units that didn’t quite understand the basic elements of street fighting, but overall it was going well, and he needed to identify which were the better units, for the old skill marks from before the war were now outdated. Combat had a way of elevating or degrading warriors over a short period of time, and he needed to know who was on the rise and who had been broken.

  But he was also watching how the Zak’de’ron responded in other locations, and from where. He was hoping to pull them to him, but he wasn’t sure what they would leave underdefended to do it…then he saw them pulling what looked like all their aerial assets out of their frontline outposts to the south, all the way down to near where Team 4 was stationed.

  It was going to take a while for them to get up to the supply depot, and by the time they did it would be too late to save it. Mak’to’ran assumed the Zak’de’ron commanders were looking for a major clash where they could kill the cluster of Era’tran craft, but that wasn’t going to happen. He’d pull them out before major losses could occur, leaving a few units to handle the city defenses that they were able to rejuvenate. The damage they could do would be worth it, and the crews staying behind to man them knew the risks and how they’d be left on their own to survive afterward, but they all had eagerly volunteered at the chance to do some real damage to the enemy.