Druhalith (The Season of Resilience)

Day 281

45 days since my arrival

War is an ever-shifting battlefield, where tactics and technology evolve with each engagement. Yet, the cost is always the same, measured in the lives lost on either side.

I couldn’t recall who first spoke those words. The memory of the passage was hazy, blurred at the edges like a distant echo. But as the weight of the post-battle review pressed down on me, its truth was undeniable.

The enemy's relentless assault had driven my combat drones back too far. Casualties were mounting, and while replacements were already being fabricated, they would not arrive quickly enough. The scouts, in particular, had performed dismally. Their light frames, designed for speed and reconnaissance, proved inadequate for the brutal close-quarters combat of the tunnels.

The decision was clear the majority of the scout drones would be recycled, their resources repurposed for more effective units. A small contingent, however, would be reassigned. I ordered these remaining scouts to fall back and guard the captive pods, a task they were still suited to despite their limitations.

The would be positioned as a final line of defense, they would act as a last resort should the enemy breach our deeper fortifications a desperate measure I hoped I would never have to employ.

Meanwhile, the intelligence sub-minds scouts reported grim news. Enemy reinforcements were arriving in armoured transports, bringing fresh troops to replace their losses. Their dead and wounded had already been evacuated, and a new wave of soldiers would soon be unleashed upon my defences.

My sub-minds were working tirelessly to adapt. The construction sub-mind focused on digging deeper, coordinating the burrower drones as they expanded the labyrinthine tunnels. Their progress was steady, and the new burrower variants had increased efficiency, but the situation on the surface demanded more immediate solutions.

The war mind was already formulating new strategies. Its latest reports detailed potential improvements to my combat drones. It suggested alternative designs for the heavies and assault units, optimizing their armaments and durability for the escalating conflict. Most notably, it recommended recycling the scout drones entirely. Their biomass and materials could be repurposed to bolster the production of more effective variants.

The sniper drones remained a singular success amidst the chaos. Their precision and lethality had proved invaluable, particularly against enemy soldiers wielding the energy weapons that boiled my drones from within. The snipers systematically eliminated those threats, carving critical gaps in the enemy’s firepower and slowing their advance.

And yet, the sphere in the mental plane lingered, its presence as unyielding and enigmatic as ever. Despite my best efforts, I remained unable to breach or understand it. Its purpose and significance eluded me, but I couldn’t afford to let it distract me further. Not now.

The swarm had endured setbacks before, and it would endure them again. The cost of war was high, but I was prepared to pay it. Adaptation was our greatest strength.

With fewer drones to command directly, my mind was no longer overwhelmed, granting me the clarity to focus on studying the enemy’s latest technology. Unfortunately, I had captured no prisoners, they were disturbingly meticulous in ensuring none of their forces were taken alive.

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Every attempt to isolate and capture even a single enemy unit ended the same way, suicide. Whether through a hidden mechanism in their armour or sheer force of will, they ensured nothing of themselves remained for interrogation or study. It was frustrating.

Their armour had also changed there armour. Bulkier and more durable than before, it withstood some onslaught of projectiles from my assault drones. Though my heavies and snipers could punch through with their more powerful weaponry, the increased resilience of their standard infantry presented a significant challenge.

However, the greatest discovery and perhaps the most troubling was their helmets. Embedded across the inside of each helmet were crystalline shards, their translucent forms glinting faintly even in the dim light of the tunnels. The arrangement wasn’t decorative, it served a purpose.

When I attempted to launch mental attacks against these soldiers, the crystals reacted immediately, actively repelling my efforts. It was as if they established a barrier, shielding their wearers from the influence of my etheric probes. Each failed assault was met with the same resistance, the crystals absorbing and deflecting my psionic strikes.

If every helmet in their ranks was equipped with these shards, the implications were dire. It would severely limit one of my most potent advantages in this war. Yet, a faint glimmer of hope lingered in my observations.

I recalled the battle with the Seven. When their minds had fractured and their psychic connection shattered, I’d noticed something peculiar, several enemy soldiers collapsed alongside them. Their helmets, despite the crystalline protection, hadn’t been enough to fully shield them from the ripple effects of the Seven’s downfall.

This meant the crystals were not infallible. While they could deflect direct mental assaults, they lacked the power to completely sever a psionic connection or protect against overwhelming force. It was a vulnerability, albeit a small one, and vulnerabilities were what I thrived on.

Still, the presence of these crystals changed everything. My tactics would need to adapt, and my drones would require further optimization to exploit this newfound weakness. The war mind was already analysing the shards' properties from the fragments retrieved in the field. If we could replicate or counteract their effects, it might turn the tide in our favour.

Their arsenal was impressively diverse, showcasing a modular design that allowed their weapons to adapt seamlessly to various roles. From rail guns that delivered precise, devastating impacts to grenade launchers capable of saturating entire areas with shrapnel, their adaptability was undeniable.

Even their close-range weapons, including some form of shotgun, were finely tuned for maximum lethality in confined spaces like the tunnels.

But it was their heavy energy weapon that posed the gravest threat. This device, with its concentrated bursts of searing power, was a nightmare for my combat drones. Any drone struck by it suffered catastrophic internal damage, its systems boiling and melting in moments.

The impact of this weapon was so severe that it reshaped my tactical priorities. I issued an immediate directive to all sniper drones: these weapons were to be neutralized on sight. Any soldier wielding one became the highest-priority target.

The snipers had already proven their lethality in previous skirmishes, systematically eliminating key threats with clinical precision. Now, their focus would be sharpened even further. The moment one of these energy weapons appeared on the battlefield, my snipers would ensure it was silenced before it could wreak further havoc.

The captives I held proved moderately useful, at least in some areas. They possessed detailed knowledge about maintaining their modular weapon systems, providing insights into how components could be swapped out to adapt to different battlefield conditions.

However, when it came to their devastating energy weapon, the so-called V23 Microwave Emitter, their understanding was disappointingly shallow. My intelligence sub-mind had thoroughly scoured their memories, only to uncover the weapon's name and its classification. Beyond that, their knowledge was limited to surface-level operational protocols.

I turned my attention to the row of pods lining the makeshift workshop that had been hastily constructed along the new defensive wall. Inside the biomatter cocoons, the captives floated in enforced stasis, their neural activity carefully monitored.

Initially, I had considered them expendable. Their value was limited, and feeding them drained resources better spent on other efforts.

But the events of this battle had altered my perspective. If the swarm was to survive and ultimately prevail, I needed to innovate not just biologically, but tactically. The captives' minds represented a potential untapped resource. Rather than being discarded, they could serve as tools in a new strategy: infiltration.