After bombing out the only defensive base we could locate on Vindar, the fleet descended cautiously.

  Lower and lower the ships moved. First came the smallest of them, corvettes and destroyers. Then the cruisers, and lastly the fat transports, full of troops.

  Nothing fired at us. Nothing pinged us… but still, everyone was distrustful.

  “These aliens are tricky,” Trask told me on a private channel. I’d moved into my office to listen to what he had to say. “I was very impressed, Gorman, by what I saw earlier. They came within a hair’s breadth of blowing up my ship.”

  “I noticed. We were both lucky to get away.”

  “No!” Trask boomed. “You should never say that. No Sword Brother would ever admit any victory was due to luck—especially if it was.”

  I smiled, accepting the truth of his words. “In any case, what now? You gentlemen have excluded me from discussions of how this invasion will unfold.”

  “That’s partly because we’ve already scrapped our plans. No one expected a weird barrage of tiny intelligent missiles. The original plan was to have Duke Rago land on the big continent, near the capital. The Tulk-infested men, led by Harkaman, would land on the second, smaller landmass.”

  “Simple search-and-destroy? Over a whole planet? That’s a big scope for a war.”

  “Most of this world is uninhabited. There are only about thirty million people spread over the globe, and much of the surface is ocean anyway. There are a few cities, a dozen centers of commerce—mostly mining—and that’s it.”

  “Right, but how would you know where the fight is?”

  On my screen Trask shrugged. “We figured we’d talk to the locals. The hope always was that the invaders were in certain localities, and that they were limited in number.”

  I thought about the invasion of Baden. The Tulk had come via a slip-gate which they’d set up and operated on the top of a mountain.

  But what I’d seen so far on Vindar looked worse. Perhaps there were many sources of invasion, many enemy strongholds. What’s more, these aliens were far more capable of combat than the native xenomorphs on Baden, which the locals called “ducks”.

  These invaders were dangerous in the extreme.

  “What if we’re outnumbered?” I asked. “What if there are so many that we can’t help Vindar? What if we’re driven off the planet?”

  Trask waved a dismissive hand. “Then we lift off and run. We take to the skies—which is why it is so important that we own them now. We retreat back to orbit, and we weigh our options.”

  I glared at him. “What options?”

  “Something more… drastic, perhaps? What do you think? You’re not a stupid man.”

  “You’ll bomb,” I said. “You’ll burn the continents with radioactive fallout.”

  “And the oceans too, of course. What did you expect?”

  “You’ll kill millions of people? Just because we failed to stop the invaders? That’s insane. I didn’t know I was traveling with a fleet of butchers.”

  Trask was suddenly angry. “What choice do we have? Grow up, Gorman. If the invaders win here, they’ll kill all the colonists anyway. And they won’t stop here, they’ll keep on going. In a few years, a decades’ time at most, they’ll be all over the Fringe.”

  “This should make the Conclave wake up.”

  “Maybe, but maybe not. They didn’t do anything to help Baden, did they?”

  I shook my head, remembering that backward planet. “No. They left the colonists there to fend for themselves. The only thing the patrolmen did was try to keep the colonials from effectively arming themselves.”

  Trask nodded. “Exactly. Somehow, my brothers have been thrust onto this stage. We’re here, and we’re dispensing justice whether we like it or not. We wouldn’t have bothered unless we’d been convinced that this threat was coming for us next.”

  “All right then,” I said. “Where do I stand in this battle? What part can I play to help?”

  “I thought you already did your part. No one would call you a coward if you stayed up here in orbit and drank beer while you watched the invasion.”

  I thought about that. I seriously did. A part of me said it was the right thing to do. One more rifle on an entire planet, in the midst of a war involving millions—what did it matter if I risked my own skin or not? After all, just as Trask had said, I’d done my part, and I’d done it well.

  Trask watched me curiously. At last, I thought I had an answer.

  “I’m going down. I’m going into the troposphere at least. From there, I’ll be ready to join any fight that crops up.”

  “Huh… All right. Do whatever you want, Captain. Just try not to get in the way.”

  On that note, Trask ended the conversation.

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  The next day, the landings began in earnest. We’d managed to make contact with various local stations on Vindar by then. They’d been shocked to see us show up unannounced in their skies, and they were naturally full of fears and concerns.

  Morwyn and Dernel did their best to calm the various mayors and governors. Vindar didn’t have a single ruler, they were organized as a federation of friendly counties and states.

  Morwyn explained that she and her father had been sent to the stars to retrieve help a year ago, and that they’d actually managed to bring a fleet back with them. When the local Vindari finally accepted that we’d come to drive off the invaders, rather than attack them, they were joyous. They’d assumed we’d come to steal whatever was left of their burning planet. Many of them broke down and wept with joy when they’d finally been convinced.

  Several of the Vindari leaders behaved like Dernel, I noticed. They were odd people who seemed to be partly mad… but I accepted their culture for what it was. Their behavior could hardly be more upsetting than the habits of the bloodthirsty mercenaries I’d brought with me.

  The situation on the ground was grim. The aliens had taken several of the outlying provinces, and now they were gathering to push north toward the capital city. To counter this threat, the colonials had formed a militia army and were preparing to meet them in the field south of their most populated region.

  The Vindari didn’t fully understand where the aliens had come from. They were terrified and gathering every weapon they had—but every serious battle they fought so far had ended in defeat.

  There was a singular man among their leaders who stood out, however. Partly, this was because he wasn’t bluish in complexion. He was called Lucas Droad, and he had a haunted gaze that told me his eyes had seen true horrors in person.

  Harkaman and Rago passed on the idea of landing their fleets immediately. Instead, they ordered Baron Trask and me to land first and doing the initial meet-and-greet. Really, we were playing scout again.

  I could hardly blame the two fleet commanders. They didn’t trust the Vindari, the aliens—or even each other. To put down their skids on dirt was to risk everything. Best to send envoys first.

  So, Trask’s destroyer and my small ship ended up being the first vessels to sink down into the atmosphere. As we landed at the capital city—something that wasn’t as impressive as it sounded, being a large settlement of perhaps a half-million souls—I saw the forests to the south were burning.

  “You know what’s going on down there?” I asked Morwyn. “Why are they burning all those purple-black trees?”

  “Not really… but I know it’s not normal. During our talks, I learned that the people believe the invaders breed in the forests. Perhaps they’re trying to prevent the enemy from setting up a base in the wilds near the capital.”

  I frowned at that. It didn’t sound positive, no matter how you looked at it.

  The sun was drooping down to touch the horizon, and the smoke had turned the skies reddish-brown. We landed at a quiet spaceport, and stepped outside onto an old blast-pan. The surface had been burned by so many rockets in the past it had a sheen on it like melted glass.

  Crunching over this glossy expanse of scorch-marks, we were met by a single armored vehicle. It was makeshift, as they almost always were out here on the frontier. An automated turret had been grafted onto a heavily-built vehicle of some kind. If I had to guess, I would have said it had started out as a garbage hauler.

  The anti-grav plates underneath rippled with blue light, and I made a note not to get my foot under there. These old models could crush you to pulp, as they had no safety sensors or automatic shutoffs—they just indiscriminately pushed down gravity waves with the full weight of their load applied to anything underneath.

  The cab of the vehicle was obscured by armor plates that had been crudely folded and welded around it. The tank—if you could call it that—hovered close, and I could feel the crew was checking us out.

  Even more disconcertingly, the automated turret on the roof was quivering with eagerness. It studied me, then Trask, then back again. The stubby barrel had an opening that was no more than 20mm in diameter—but it still looked pretty effective. If that cannon decided to blast us, we’d be just one more stain on this glassy ground.

  Deciding to try to allay their fears, I smiled and waved. Baron Trask struck an unconcerned pose and stood tall.

  His option turned out to be wiser. The turret zeroed on me, perhaps sensing the movement of my hand. It twitched and whirred, trying to keep me targeted while the tank gently floated and made a deep-throated humming noise.

  Slowly, I lowered my waving hand and stood there, waiting.

  At last, the driver’s side opened. It was clearly a normal door with metal plates grafted to it—but it worked. A man stepped down over the gravity repellers and landed on the ground. He was tall, and I recognized him.

  “Lucas Droad?” I asked.

  “You know me?”

  I smiled. “No sir. But, I saw you on during the video conferences. You’re easy to pick out… because you’re pink instead of blue.”

  He smiled, but it was a joyless, careworn thing. “All right then, you two seem real enough. Come hop into the cab with me. Step high, and mind the repellers.”

  “Wait a minute, Droad,” Trask said. “Where are you taking us? I’d like to bring my retinue.”

  Trask waved over his shoulder. Out of his destroyer a half-dozen troops in armor had now deployed.

  Droad looked at them warily. “You don’t need bodyguards here. At least, not yet. The enemy is far to the south. Besides, there’s no room in my vehicle for so many.”

  Trask’s expression was sour. He nodded after a moment. “All right then. We’ll take my aircar—we always keep a small unit in the hold.”

  After a few more minutes, Trask had loaded his guards into an open-topped vehicle. It pulled up behind us, and I got into the tank with Droad.

  Inside, it was comfortable enough. As I’d expected all along, it was nothing more than a modified hauler.

  At close range, I was able to judge Droad more easily. He was older than he looked, at least fifty. He was tall, rangy, and he moved with confidence. I could tell he’d seen his share of fighting. He also seemed educated. This combination, along with his mysterious appearance so far from the Conclave, made me curious.

  “You’re a long way from home, aren’t you?” I asked him.

  “I certainly am, and I could say the same about you.”

  “Can I ask how you came to find yourself driving a converted garbage hauler out beyond the Fringe, Droad?”

  He steered the slewing hauler out of the blast-pan and onto a gravel road before answering. “It’s a long story. You don’t have a stim, do you? It’s been years. They don’t even know what they are out here.”

  I smiled, and I produced one of my few white sticks. He lit up, and I joined him. The cab was soon filled with aromatic smoke.

  “That’s good…” he said. “Listen… uh… Gorman? Was that your name?”

  “Yes.”

  “I… I’m a refugee, I guess you would say. I’ve managed to stay one step ahead of the storm coming out of the Chain for a few decades now. It’s been like running from a wildfire, and I’ve been doing it for most of my adult life.”

  Nodding, I puffed a few times and then sighed. “I’ve been doing the same thing here for a tenth as long. I’ve met the Tulk, killed a culus and a few shrades—”

  Droad slammed the steering bar forward, and I was almost thrown into the dash. He turned on me with wide, staring eyes.

  “They’ve made it so far already?”

  “They’ve reached the Fringe, yes. We killed all those we found—but I suspect they’ll keep coming.”

  Taking a deep breath, he blew smoke out in a blue-white haze. “They’ll never stop. Not until we kill them all.”

  He started up the hauler again, and I felt relieved. Droad didn’t seem to be entirely stable. Could these aliens drive a good man mad? I had the feeling I was going to find out.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Droad drove the hauler to a squatty building that had recently been reinforced with metal struts and concrete. It had the look of a makeshift bunker.

  The siege mentality was everywhere as I followed him into the doors past nervous guardsmen. The pale blue faces were young and out of their element. They held their rifles like they were shovels, and I knew at a glance they’d had less than a month’s training.

  Colonial militia. Every planet that got into trouble put their farm-boys on the front line immediately. They were always tough-minded and strong-armed. Often, they could shoot reasonably straight as well—but they didn’t know squat about tactics

  Droad had a long stride. I nearly had to trot to keep up. I got the feeling he did everything in a rush—everything.

  “Hey, what’s your official title here?” I asked him.

  Droad talked over his shoulder as we bumped down a crowded corridor. “I’m an advisor from the front—from the Chain. Once, I was the governor of Garm—that’s a planet—it was a planet… oh, never mind. Anyway, I’m now just another man on the run. The best I can do for humanity is help them understand what they’re fighting.”

  The bunker, or terminal, or whatever it had once been, was full of confusion. Some people were military, others looked like refugees. Doctors slept on the floor next to janitors, and every man present had a weapon of some kind at hand.

  Behind me, Trask and his retinue marched in our wake. They annoyed the crowd as they tramped by, stepping over or occasionally on anyone who got in their way.

  Trask had seen fit to let me lead the way, and he was wearing a sour expression on his face. Nothing we’d seen on this world so far looked good to him. I knew right away what was wrong, of course: Trask was a man who liked to see rich victims with something to steal, but these people appeared to be downtrodden and penniless.

  Turning back to Droad, I almost walked into him. He’d stopped dead to look up at a monitor.

  Gawking beside him, I watched a news report of some kind. It was primitive stuff, not even three-D holo, but you could still tell what was going on.

  A forested scene was displayed. The forest wasn’t a wall of green leaves, however, it was purple—almost black.

  There was no sound, only video. We saw from the point of view of the cameraman as he trotted down the length of a trench. Dirt had been hastily thrown up and mounded like a deep furrow in a plowed field. The trench line was in open ground facing the dark forest.

  Those trees… they were different than those I was familiar with. Alien, but not entirely. They looked like trees, mind you, but the leaves were deep purple. The trunks underneath were even darker, virtually black. I imagined that walking in such a forest, it would be cool and gloomy. It would be hard to see much even with the local sun burning directly overhead.

  Some people around us pointed and gasped. I saw what they were looking at. Underneath those strange trees, among the trunks, there was suddenly a lot of stealthy movement.

  “See them?” Droad asked me. “The gray things with shells like beetles? They’re massing under cover for a charge.”

  We watched the monitor. Everyone did. Even Trask and his men halted to see the battle play out. There was nothing as dramatic to the eye as a live fire fight.

  Sergeants walked the trench line, working to keep discipline. They instructed each man they met, and I could imagine they were telling them to hold their fire. The enemy wasn’t an easy target yet, but the humans were already plinking away, wasting ammo.

  At last, it appeared the enemy charge must come—but something else happened first.

  The camera angle swung up to the skies. A dark cloud grew rapidly over the battlefield. At first, I thought it was a natural occurrence, but I soon realized the truth. It was a cloud of flapping flesh. Of… creatures…

  “A culus swarm,” Droad said next to me. “So many of them… we’ve let them breed freely in the forest. I urged the councilors and the mayors to send in expeditions, to burn out their nests—but they didn’t listen.”

  I glanced at him and then looked back to the screens. My eyes were drawn there, as were the eyes of a hundred others.

  The troops fired at the culus swarm. Dozens dropped to the ground, flopping and struggling not to die. The swarm swooped closer, and when they were directly overhead, they dropped their payloads.

  An inexperienced man would expect to see explosives, or perhaps poison gases. But the swarm dropped shrades instead. Falling among the entrenched men, these snake-like things caused a tremendous disturbance. Troops shot the shrades and each other. They struggled desperately, stabbing with knives, straining to pull away the snake-like bodies from their comrades. There was blood and chaos everywhere.

  Then the cameraman thought to look across the battlefield again, toward the distant, purple-leaved trees.

  The audience in the terminal gasped. Instead of a quiet forest, we saw instead a bounding mass of aliens. They were the humanoid type, the kind that we’d fought on the planetoid. They had hard shells, odd insectile legs and a great ferocity of spirit.

  A thousand of them charged the Vindari army—maybe more than a thousand. Some of the aliens had weapons. Rifles, shotguns, even curved machetes. Others had nothing more than their deadly bladed feet.