The dropship quivered and shook as it was buffeted by entry plasma and stratospheric windstorms. Some of the mammalian squaddies appeared queasy at the motion, but Cutter, a purebred Soldier Caste Poslushi, was more than used to this. He had fought in several of the wars that had led to the impressment of their species into the Poslush Combine's military. As it has been, as it should be. Thus, the humans would end up just the same. They seemed to enjoy their combat vehicles; perhaps they would reconstitute the Tanker Caste after the final vestiges of the rebellious, insidious Irrilings were eradicated.

With a gentle thud, the transport touched down and the doors began to open. Air rushed into the lower-pressure troop cavities, slightly tousling Cutter's antennae. Annoyed, he shook his head to return them to their nominal position, then inserted an energy cell into his rifle. The fleets of the Coalition of Aligned Solar Territories, the humans' government, had made little in the way of resistance during the Polegate Offensive; there was no reason they would do much better now.

The gas-giant parent of Kormoran loomed overhead, providing ample illumination during the night. The glittering blue plasma trails of more incoming spacecraft crisscrossed the skies as they proceeded to their own objectives. Ahead stretched a long dirt road, and a pair of small, squat structures lay in the distance, surrounded by acres of cultivated land and illuminated only slightly from within.

"It's a farmhouse." Ollex, a mammalian Toil Caste noted.

"We know it's a farmhouse, you unlerm mongrel! Now keep your voice down!" Cutter whisper-shouted back. Ollex's ears folded back in dismay and she shrank back, reminded of her place.

"Let's show them how to welcome their betters." Rapier, commanding officer of the 1447th Mixed Legion proposed. All saluted and proceeded to the little buildings. Trampling over fields of what the great apes called "corn," they stalked closer and closer until finally, they were almost upon the larger of the two structures.

"Ulo, do what you do best." Rapier ordered, pointing an antenna at the hulking avinoid Driver Caste. He saluted briefly, then went to the dwelling's back door and blew it off its hinges with a single kick of his taloned feet. A few seconds later, the high-pitched squeal of a surprised human rang out, followed by the low growl of Ulo's squawking. Then, Ulo emerged once more, followed by a shambling human female, its face obscured by a standard-issue neural reprogrammer. A male, presumably the mate, jumped out of a window but injured itself on its transparent medium, becoming unable to move.

"Nein! Bitte! BITTE!" It screamed, holding out its hands in a futile attempt to block Ulo as he attached the reprogrammer. Ulo picked up the now-unresisting male and looked at it with confusion.

"What is it, Ulo?" Cutter asked. Ulo let out a high cooing noise.

"I don't know. When I entered, they were just... laying there, on some sort of fabric furniture." His translator spoke.

"What were they doing?"

"Nothing."

Cutter rubbed his compound eyes in confusion. It was the middle of summer on Kormoran, far too warm for them to be hibernating. They could have been meditating, but they would certainly have become aware of Ulo before his entrance if they were doing so. Eventually, he gave up on trying to rationalize it and dismissed it as plain stupidity, a backwards habit of a backwards race. "Ulo, bring those below-creatures back to the shuttle. You're on collection duty from now on, alright?" Rapier said.

Ulo chirped. "Yes, sir."

Rapier exhaled a cloud of delighted pheromones. Then, the smell changed to resolution. "Come, men. There's an encampment of soldiers down the road. They'll make the best rock haulers." Cutter felt nothing but joy from raids like this. The screams of savage peoples, the hum of power rifles, the sounds of shuffling feet as a column of mindless slaves boarded the shuttle, all mixed into a symphony of superiority. Soon, Kormoran and all two million of its human population would be just another one of the approximately one thousand worlds that contributed to the Combine's might.

---

As the encampment came into view, the road gradually hardened into some sort of molded stone. From what they had gathered from autopsies, humans were creatures that required more light to see than most other species. Thus, as lightpoles began to line the pathway, they elected to stay off of it instead.

The sentries at the borders of the camp didn't even have time to plead for mercy. Cutter's rifle let off a tiny drone as it fired, and the sentries fell where they stood as a beam of invisible energy flash-cooked their internal organs. "Clear." He said, proceeding to the main gate. Still, something was off. Why was there nobody? Normally, even for a day-seeing species, there would be someone checking the ammunition or relaying orders, but no one was here. A brief paranoia overtook Cutter as he began to believe they had been led to a trap, but then a noise from inside a human living quarters piqued his attention.

Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.

Quietly opening the door, he found a room immersed in darkness to the point where even he had some trouble seeing. Ollex and Rapier entered behind him, and the rest of the 1447th spread out and began clearing the rest of the site. As Cutter's eyes adjusted, he found an even stranger sight.

Dozens of human males lay on squares of white cloth stacked on top of one another, eyes closed, unmoving. One of them was making a loud droning noise at regular intervals, but they were otherwise silent. Cutter had heard stories before, of Poslush soldiers invading while their enemies were in the midst of some sort of psychic confluence and being torn apart by the power of their foes' minds. Humans weren't known to be psychic, but this was the first time they had been fought up-close and not at the thousands of kilometers away spaceship combat generally involved.

Perhaps the droning one was leading the seance. If so, it would be best to destroy them first. Cutter tiptoed over to its cushion and quietly pointed his rifle at its head. He exhaled, keeping his fear in check, and--

Suddenly, the human's eyes flew open and he sprang up, looking straight at Cutter. "Was zum..." it uttered. Then, its eyes widened as it realized what was happening. "KONTAKT!" It called, reaching for a small stand at the side of its cushion. Cutter realized slightly too late that it was reaching for an object on the stand instead.

KABLAM!

A dreadful, terrifying blast rang out through the building as the pistol discharged. The shot went wide, but the noise was so incredibly loud that Cutter's antennae sent a massive jolt through his whole body like he'd been hit with a hammer. He staggered backward and let out a long, pained scream. Even Ollex flinched at the sound. Worse still, the disturbance seemed to rouse the other humans from their seance, and one jumped off of its cushion to land on Rapier, pulling one of his antennae loose with a horrifying crunch that made Cutter nauseous. Rapier was screaming even louder than Cutter, and then a second shot rang out.

In all his years, Cutter had never once been shot. Most simply surrendered when they saw the Poslushi forces incoming. Not only that, but Cutter was the best rifleman in the 1447th, and no one got a chance before he dropped them. But now, a metal slug ripped through his carapace, sending a spiderweb of cracks all across the surface of his abdomen. Another blast, and Ollex fell, clutching her thorax and trying to staunch the bleeding. Cutter was nearly blind with pain, and beyond disoriented. He stumbled back out of the building, leaking hemolymph from his shattered exoskeleton, to see something similar.

The humans were like the deadly apes they descended from in that moment. Only a few wielded projectile or energy weapons. The remainder were too busy bashing and cutting apart their foes with mechanical tools, officers' swords, or even plain sticks and rocks. The final blow to Cutter's morale came when he saw the first dropships beginning to leave the planet.

It had been fifty Poslushi years since the Combine had retreated from a battle.

Cutter didn't have a lot of time to reflect on this, however, before a human tackled him from behind and held him down, restraining him with some sort of metal binding. The last thing he saw as he passed into unconsciousness was the burning shell of a dropship as it fell to the ground.

---

Captain Johann Hess stumbled through the decks of the CSS Bactria, the flagship of the Coalition of Aligned Solar Territories' Polegate Fleet. The manila folder felt heavy in his hands, loaded with dossiers and combat reports of the first ground encounter with the aggressive alien species known as the Poslushi. Following the signs, he found himself at the officers' quarters, but still couldn't find his destination.

"Excuse me, sir, can you point me in the direction of Colonel Suzuki's office?" He asked a passing marine. "Third door on the left." He grunted, pointing down a hallway. Johann thanked him and hurried.

He knocked twice on the door. "Come in." A female voice replied and he opened the door to see a Japanese lady in JSDF attire sitting behind a desk, rather petite for a career officer. Johann stood at attention and saluted. "Captain Johann Hess, Bundeswehr, at your service," he said.

"Ah, you're from Kormoran."

"Yes, ma'am."

"The media's already calling it 'the Great Poslushi Turkey Shoot.'"

"I know, ma'am."

"Now, remind me again of the metrics for that battle."

"We suffered 221 dead, 35 captured, and 254 seriously wounded. We don't know the exact numbers for the enemy, but we estimate that they've got about five thousand dead and wounded, and we currently have 467 of them stashed in Kormoran's county jails awaiting transport."

"That's a ratio of ten enemy losses to one. Now how exactly did you pull that off?"

"We slept through their assault, ma'am."

A look of confusion flashed across Suzuki's face, like he had misheard the question. "Say that again?"

"We were sleeping when they attacked us."

"And that's how you massacred them?"

"I don't think these people sleep. Maybe they thought we were dead and we surprised them?"

Suzuki looked at her desk for a moment, then nodded as the pieces came together in her head. "That explains a lot. Did you intercept their dropships?"

"On the way out, ma'am, not on the way in. We got about ten of them, but the rest got away."

The phone on Suzuki's desk rang. It didn't even finish the first time before she picked it up. She listened for a few minutes, then nodded and looked up at Johann. "It's from High Command. Apparently, the Americans, the Japanese, and the Russians are all calling. They want to know what they can do to help. The Americans asked where the POWs are being held, namely."

"We think the Poslushi have some sort of prison ship in orbit of Kormoran, along with their raiding fleet, ma'am. Oh, and we've intercepted a few of their transmissions. Apparently, they think System Patrol was our fleet."

Suzuki smiled, then relayed this over the phone. Then, she hung up and let out a little chuckle. "They thought the police ships were the fleet? Oh, do I feel sorry for those bastards, and the guys on that prison ship. From what I hear, US Special Forces doesn't screw around during boarding actions."