Druhalith (The Season of Resilience)

Day 295

59 days since my arrival

With a mental command, I dismissed the notification, clearing my vision. It was nearly time to set everything in motion. I withdrew into the etheric plane, where the chaotic energies enveloped me like a comforting embrace, familiar and soothing. As minutes slipped by in the physical realm, the pieces of my plan began aligning perfectly, each step falling seamlessly into place.

Then, the first blast erupted.

To the west, a silent bloom of kinetic energy lit up the barren expanse of the moon. Shrapnel and pulverized minerals fanned out in an expanding wave, marking the first pulse of my calculated assault. The explosions would detonate at random intervals, another explosion followed, each carefully timed to mimic geological instability rather than deliberate sabotage.

From within the etheric plane, I observed everything as though it unfolded within the boundaries of my mind. Here, the transfer of information was instantaneous, unfiltered by the constraints of the physical world.

My war sub-mind, cold and unerring in its logic, fed me a relentless stream of data—calculations of probabilities, identification of threats, and the precise prioritization of objectives. Its efficient whispers wove seamlessly into my awareness, guiding every step of the unfolding operation.

Over the past few days, with little else demanding my attention, I had spent my time within the etheric plane, exploring the limits of my abilities. Beyond honing mental attacks, I delved into optimizing the efficiency of my operations.

Experimentation revealed a notable advantage, directly controlling groups of drones from within this realm created a faster, more reactive feedback loop. The difference was only a few seconds, but in the chaos of battle, even moments could mean the difference between success and failure.

The enemy didn’t react at first. The explosions to the west were too far to pose an immediate threat. Instead, they sent out a contingent to investigate, as the war sub-mind had predicted.

Five armoured vehicles rolled out from the base’s reinforced gates, their metallic hulls reflecting the faint light of the distant sun. Their mounted rail guns and automated turrets rotated methodically, scanning the desolate landscape. Accompanying them, a flight of five drones soared into the vacuum, their sleek lethal forms outfitted with sensors, missile pods and rail guns.

My scouts had already identified their drones cannons and missile launchers damage effect, both of which they’d demonstrated mercilessly. When a lone burrower had dug too close to the surface days ago, they responded with a barrage of firepower, reducing it to scattered remnants in seconds.

The convoy established a protective wedge as it moved across the uneven terrain. Dust and debris from the earlier explosions still hung in the airless vacuum, settling slowly in the moon’s weak gravity. The vehicles crawled forward with calculated caution, their weapons sweeping the landscape for potential threats.

I marked the convoy’s position and speed in my mind, aligning it with the pre-set ambush zone. The countdown began. The war sub-mind mapped every possible scenario, adjusting for the unpredictable, though the enemy’s actions were largely anticipated.

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Time until engagement: ten minutes.

The suicide drones stirred to life beneath the surface, their bio-reactive payloads primed. My awareness reached into them, feeling the faint vibrations of their tiny bio-jets ready to launch. The war sub-mind calculated and recalibrated each drone’s trajectory as the enemy formation moved closer.

The convoy moved steadily closer. The drones patrolled above, their sensors scanning the ground and ridgelines for any sign of movement. I knew they wouldn’t find anything yet. My units were patient, perfectly still, awaiting the moment when the enemy entered the kill zone.

When the first vehicle crossed the threshold, I gave the signal.

The suicide drones burst from their burrows like hornets from a hive, streaking upward in coordinated waves. The first group targeted the lead vehicle. A trio of drones struck simultaneously, detonating their payloads with synchronized precision. The resulting explosion tore through the vehicle’s forward armour, sending chunks of metal and shattered weapons spiralling outward. The crew, encased in their protective suits, were ejected into the vacuum. Their lifeless bodies tumbled away, unceremoniously discarded by the battle’s chaos.

The enemy’s response was immediate. Rail guns roared to life, their hypersonic rounds cutting through the void. A missile spiralled toward a cluster of suicide drones, obliterating three in a single strike. The drones’ wreckage scattered across the battlefield, but their loss was calculated.

The second wave struck with brutal efficiency. Two more vehicles were destroyed in rapid succession. Two drones dove beneath a vehicle’s undercarriage, detonating their payloads and flipping the armoured behemoth like a child’s toy. Another three struck the side of a transport, its explosion tearing open the cabin and spilling infantry into the unforgiving vacuum.

The enemy’s drones retaliated, their cannons and missiles targeting the remaining suicide units. One by one, my drones were picked off, their explosive charges going to waste. Still, the damage was done. Of the five vehicles in the convoy, only one remained operational, though badly damaged. The others were now smouldering wrecks, their hulking forms scattered like broken bones across the moon’s surface.

The final wave of suicide drones struck the retreating remnants. The crippled vehicle was destroyed in a brilliant flash, leaving only the infantry and their aerial support to regroup and retreat. Of the original contingent, only half the infantry and three of the aerial drones survived.

Time until main assault: five minutes.

I calculated the exchange twenty suicide drones lost for four vehicles and significant infantry casualties. Acceptable losses. The war sub-mind agreed, marking the ambush as a success.

The survivors limped back toward the base, their formation tighter now, their movements more desperate. The remaining drones circled protectively above, firing at imagined threats that didn’t exist. My units were already retreating to their secondary positions, preparing for the next phase.

———

Five minutes later, the battlefield lay quiet.

The scattered debris and scorched craters were the only evidence of the violence that had unfolded. The war sub-mind kept me updated, its streams of data painting a picture of the enemy’s growing unease. At the base, alarms blared, and defensive turrets scanned the horizon for further threats. The enemy knew an attack was coming—they just didn’t know when or where.

From the etheric plane I shifted my focus, observing their base in detail. It was a sprawling complex of interconnected modules, each one serving a specific function. The outer perimeter bristled with automated turrets, their sleek designs optimized for both long-range and close-quarters defence. Beyond the turrets were rows of prefabricated barracks, their boxy shapes lined with atmospheric seals to protect the clones within.

Further in, I could see the base’s central hub—a massive structure housing command and communication systems. Adjacent to it was a cluster of supply depots and hangars, where more drones and vehicles awaited deployment.

The war sub-mind began coordinating the next phase, deploying my larger suicide drones. These units were slower and less agile than their smaller counterparts but carried significantly more destructive power. Each one was a walking bomb, capable of reducing entire sections of the base to rubble.

As the final seconds ticked by. My drones stirred to life beneath the moon’s surface, their time for waiting was over.