>>16327413They would have none of that. They set themselves to war with a certainty that they would die, but would mark this world as their own. Trenches were readied and buildings were erected to shield and and hide. Their arms were small, but effective - and using the primitive but effective design gave me a spark of hope.
The infantries landed from high, dropping at the outskirt to once again give warning of the threat facing them, and that they had once chance to lay down arms and leave the planet. This was replied with the pops and cracks of gunfire, of sending hard shavings into the massed armies, who fell back shocked, before replying in kind - with energy baths.
Blood flowed, the coppery red splashing before the wounds could cauterize, and the armored bodies floundering back from the painful impacts - it took three to five shots to take down each incoming soldier.
Then the traps went up - and the ground erupted in washes of flame and earth and stone - traps set and buried in the dark of the evening, that destroyed limbs.
It slowed the advance, but did not stop it. Steps were taken with more care - shots taken with slower precision, but for every one Ensidian that fell, two Terrans gave their lives.
And watching, I felt a sickly sadness cling to my breast and tighten my crop. These brave people, some I called friend, wanted only a world to call their own. I knew the feeling, and I made a decision that was suicidal, but I would not let another be forced from a home. I took up a gun - a small one, as we Avnari are hardly the biggest of creatures, and left the safety of the building, and called for any of my kind to join battle, if they felt they deserved the notice of ancestors and the song of a Dirge-Master.
