GRUCCUD
As the ground above them trembled with the distant explosion of… another one of their munitions bunkers no doubt, Eight Whiskers Slezhbej looked at the shrinking controlled territory on the battlemap with dismay. “What happened to Sector 4? I thought we had an entire armored division in there.”
His underling shook her head sadly. “They pulled back from the frontline yesterday morning, thinking they’d take advantage of the predators advancing ahead of their supply and ground artillery lines to counterattack with infantry reserves in the afternoon. But the Lesser Predators’ orbital artillery took out the division commander and her entire staff as soon as they started moving, and the succeeding division commander did not manage to corral the surviving units together and the predators fully consolidated their gains by nightfall.”
“I see.”
“The new division commander has taken full responsibility for the failure to counterattack as planned.”
“As he should. What is he planning now?”
“He’s going to try and see if the old tunnels they dug into their own lines are still usable so they can attack through them tonight. Maybe the predators don’t have enough night vision equipment—”
Slezhbej shook his head. “Tell him not to bother. We’re going to need to pull out from that sector anyway. The predators found and bombed the back-line tunnels we were using to supply them this morning.”
“Yes, Eight Whiskers. Should I order them to retreat to the next defensive line too?”
He thought for a moment then shook his head again. “No. Too risky. They won’t make it in the open, even at night. Tell them to scatter into their pre-arranged holdout cells and fight independently. Their lives were forfeited to the Prophecy the day they left the hatchling pools.”
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“Yes, Eight Whiskers… What about us?” she asked hesitantly. “Should I give the order for headquarters to disperse too?”
Slezhbej sighed. “No. Not yet. Even at the rate the predators are making progress in our rear sector, we should have at least another two weeks before they overrun our surface positions.”
“And… then we scatter?”
“Then, Six Whiskers, we go deeper underground and wait for them to come in behind us. It was unfortunate the FTL radio broke again before the Ten Whiskers could tell us his plan. Maybe he is coming to relieve this siege; maybe he is not. Either way, we are on our own for now. And either way, we have enough supplies down here to give them trouble for months and months.” He shrugged. “And after that…”
She nodded in understanding, excising the evident fear from her face. “Our lives were forfeited to the Prophecy the day we left the hatchling pools.”
---
“Did we get their position?” Grionc asked urgently.
“Yes!” Vastae replied excitedly as he sent her console the new planetary coordinates transmitted from the Terran ship still orbiting near the system limit. “The Amazon traced him from the call to an underground tunnel cluster in Sector 2.”
“Good. Relay my thanks to Kiara.”
Vastae nodded. “Already did. Should we flag the cluster as a priority and send our orbital drop Marines in?”
Grionc considered the battlemap for a moment. She wondered what she would have done a year ago. The Terrans hadn’t trained her on ground operations, but the way they worked, the way they fought… it was not merely a fixed set of tactics or tricks. It was an entirely different way of thinking.
One suited to the violence and unpredictability of war.
She found herself wondering what they would do.
Grionc shook her ears at Vastae. “No. They’ve been here for years. They’re dug in too deep. Order the Marine Alpha Leader in charge of the sector to seal the cluster’s exits from orbit and make sure they never surface again. Ask if she has a better idea, but I don’t have a problem letting the Grass Eaters rot down there in the dark for years if they want to. We can always deal with them later.”
“Yes, High Fleet Commander.”
Grionc tilted her head as she continued considering the problem. She wasn’t sure whether that was what Terran ground commanders would do in this situation.
Then again, if I asked ten of them, I’d probably get eleven different suggestions on how to deal with the dug-in enemy leadership.
She smiled.
And what I came up with… it must be at least one of those eleven, right?
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End Grass Eaters Book 1