War of the Worlds; 2nd Wave

A month later...

The time for the Amari arrival was drawing near. Tonight, if Sunburst's calculations were correct, would see the first Amari cylinders fall to Equus' surface. Across the globe, eyes remained on the sky, whether or not individuals relied on the Mark 1 eyeball or a telescope of some variety.

The aliens had not arrived yet, unless one of their number was in each satellite. Luna deemed this unlikely; as the Amari needed to feed, they would have certainly starved to death by now, and various observers reported that the satellites were in geosynchronous orbit around the planet. They wouldn't have been able to have reached such positioning, and remained there, unless they were being operated by some kind of remote control. In any case, not flying scouts of any nation had found the aliens anywhere. Unless they had landed in some backwater and had done an overzealous job of hiding themselves, the Amari were still in space.

It would still be hard to see the cylinders while they were in high orbit; they would likely appear to be shooting stars to those planet-side. However, the Amari cylinders previously had been easily visible to those who lived in the locales where they had landed; they had resembled comets with green tails as they rocketed downward. And they had been very loud when they hit the ground. It would be difficult to miss them if they came down near any inhabited areas.

Equus was as ready as it could reasonably be.

Equestria's remaining Mark 2 mechs were finished, with five more having just begun production. The Mark 3 mech prototype was just starting to be put together; it had a Tesla cannon on the front that would string electricity between multiple fighting machines, roasting their circuits and frying their pilots, in addition to two medium heat rays and multiple conventional cannons and machine guns. It would be enormous even by the standards of the Mark 2, and would have the ability to go amphibious if necessary. The weapons of many other various nations continued to be produced, and each had their own battle doctrines and plans ready.

But where were the enemy? It was the question Luna and Celestia had come to the Royal Observatory to find out.

So far, there had been no sightings. But Sunburst was absolutely sure that the first cylinders would land tonight.

"Ow!"

Both Diarchs turned toward the telescope itself, having been ripped out of whatever private thoughts they'd had.

"What is it, private?" a sergeant demanded of the soldier who had just bumped his eye socket against the scope.

"Oh, sorry," the red stallion replied. "A shooting star, very fast, and slightly green. It was moving north."

"Can it be tracked?" Celestia asked.

"We'll alert the nearby observatories," the sergeant said, and began issuing orders.

Over the next few minutes, more information came in; a number of smaller observatories, linked to the Royal one by radio and telegraph, reported seeing more cylinders. The first was headed northeastward; another was apparently headed for the extreme northwest. Another two were coming down... in the extreme south, in the Bone Dry Desert, beyond Equestria's official borders. A final one was headed towards the Forbidden Jungle to the southeast.

"Have our flyboys, pegasi and pilots alike, take flight and go on recon," a major in the observatory ordered. "We need to find those things when they land so we can bomb them as soon as possible."

This is only the first wave of those things tonight, though, Luna thought. In another hour and five minutes - minus the time we've spent confirming reports - another bunch of cylinders will be on their way.

Thirty minutes later, more reports from around the world had come in. Three cylinders had crashed deep in the Saddle Arabian desert, though their locations within that desert weren't clear. Another had come down in a desolate area of Zebrica. The final one had crashed in Bugbear Territory to the far northeast.

"Strange," Celestia observed, looking at a globe where the approximate locations of the cylinders was being tracked. "Did their launching guns misfire? They're landing far away from any nourishment."

"Possibly, Sister," Luna conceded, "and yet they managed to put observation satellites in perfect orbit around our planet. I would not chalk this up to an accident. At best, maybe they did miscalculate their initial shots. But these are the Amari; would they really make that kind of mistake?"

Celestia didn't answer ,and for a while neither of them spoke.

More news arrived five minutes later; the five cylinders headed for the Equestrian continent were believed to have landed, though their exact locations were unknown. Red circles were placed around their probable locations on the globe.

Luna looked at these locations. Unlike, for instance, the White Tail Woods landing, the aliens were not in any position to launch the kind of lightning offensives they had performed during the first war. And, as Celestia had noted, most of these locations lacked long-term food sources of the kind the aliens had needed when they had come previously.

Maybe their guns did misfire. But then why continue firing in error?

She waited until the 65 minute deadline came through. There were more sightings - at least the poor stallion didn't slam his face into the visor this time around - and more estimates. This time, only three cylinders were headed for Equestria and its environs. Two more were headed for the Bone Dry Desert, with the third going towards the Hayseed Swamps in the Equestrian southeast.

It took forty more minutes for the reports from the rest of the world to bring news of the other seven. Two more had landed, seemingly in the same area the first three had hit; two had landed in the Kirin Empire, far in the interior, in another desolate location. The remaining three had all landed somewhere in Bugbear Territory.

Luna again felt the same sinking feeling she had felt on previous occasions. "Sister," she began, barely holding back the fear in her voice, "I don't think the Amari have any intentions of landing near major settlements this time."

Celestia stared at the large globe, now hosting more probably landing locations. She gave a reluctant nod. "Based on their landing patterns, no. But why? They need... us... to feed on... Why are they denying themselves necessary subsistence?"

Sunburst, who was standing nearby, let out a foul word, and both Princesses turned to him.

"Sorry, sorry," the orange unicorn stammered. "But I just thought of something; what if not all of these cylinders contain the Amari themselves? What if some of them are mostly - or entirely - full of supplies? We know they must have some kind of food source on their home planet, or they would have never lived long enough to menace ours. If they've brought rations for the initial journey, that might be the answer."

Both Diarchs looked at one another. "That... would be trouble," Celestia admitted. "Do you think they would have any additional materials onboard these theoretical supply cylinders? Metals, heavy weapons, construction materials, parts for factories, energy sources?"

Sunburst didn't even think before nodding. "I don't doubt it. If they're coming to stay, and to wage a long war, they'll want those kinds of things too."

"Do you think there will be any... civilian Amari, for lack of a better term, in this attack?"

Sunburst did take some time to think about that one. "No," he said at last. "If I wanted to colonize a world, and overwhelm it militarily in doing so, I'd want the war to be won before the colonists came down. My guess is, they've sent military personnel and the necessary machines and supplies they need, not housing condos or what would pass for businesses in their society. No, they'll want to crush the resistance first."

They waited longer. More Amari cylinders were sighted. More speculation and guessed landing sites. Each time, it was the same thing; the aliens were landing far away from any major cities or infrastructure.

Luna remained silent this time around, but her mind was swirling. They've invalidated our strategy! We guessed they would land near cities, and we would might be able to kill them before they could properly emerge.

She began to think of the observation satellites in the sky.

Was this their plan all along? Did they plan to land in desolate places? Or do their cylinders have some sort of maneuverability in space and, they corrected their courses in response to what they saw through their spy drones?

If it was the former, Luna had to sadly admit, it made sense. A wise general did not try to fight the last war; the Amari knew their enemies had survived - the majority of them, at least - and that their opponents were smart enough to learn from their victories and defeats in the War. If it was the latter, that would mean they had gone into the campaign with the ability and intent to adjust where they would land based on what their satellites could see.

Either way, as hours dragged on and more and more reports came in, it was clear the Amari were not where the world's military commanders had expected them to be. The second war had barely begun, but already the Amari had outsmarted their opposites. It did not bode well for the future.

Can we survive this onslaught? Or will they still prevail despite all we've done? Only time will tell. Creator, save us, please.

Spike and the rest of the squadron were in their assembly area, gathered before Lieutenant Azurite. No one had said it, but everyone knew; this was it. It was war day. There would be no going back; many of them would likely die before the conflict was over.

"Unfortunately, the Amari did not land as we had planned," Azurite was saying. "They haven't landed near any big towns, nor near major roads and railroads. Instead, they've chosen to land in deserts, jungles, frozen wastelands and other desolate locations. As of yet, we haven't seen them, but it took the Amari about half a day to begin emerging and building their fighting machines last time. By now, the first of them will probably be waking up and starting to build their engines of murder. As such, our strategy of killing them in their pods before they could awake has failed.

"However," he went on, "that doesn't mean the aliens aren't vulnerable. Some cylinders will be falling throughout the day, and some may still fall within nearby territory, even though we're no longer counting on it. Aerial squadrons are already searching for the invaders." Azurite's eyes suddenly flashed with a hunter's joy, the kind that came from a successful kill. "I'm more than happy to inform you all that the Amari observation of our world wasn't able to make things out perfectly; at least one cylinder landed in soft ground in the Griffish Isles, burying it's inhabitants alive. Another fell into a large bog in the Hayseed Swamps, where any Amari in them likely drowned. Finally, the 7th Aerial Squadron made the first sighting of the enemy on the Equestrian continent; at 8:55 today, they found an Amari cylinder in the Badlands and attacked it with bombs and rockets, doing significant damage to the structure and ripping hole through it, which they fired into using their machine guns. Any Amari left alive will likely have their equipment destroyed or damaged."

A cheer went up from the troops, even though two of the three setbacks suffered by the enemy were due purely to the terrain, not military might.

"Unfortunately, several dozen cylinders have landed on the planet, and we're only getting scattered reports from other nations. We know where the majority of the enemy have landed on this continent; the Bone Dry Desert to the south, the Undiscovered West, the Forbidden Jungle and Hayseed Swamps to the southeast, and the mountains in the North. Klugetown, the Crystal Empire, Yakyakistan, and the Changeling Hive are all in imminent danger, along with Equestria itself. Our division will be heading west, to prevent the Amari from breaking out of there and stop them from reaching Tall Tale and Las Pegasus. Unfortunately, we won't have the infrastructure - yet - to bring us directly to what we could generously call the 'front lines,' so we'll be loading up here and disembarking from White Tail Woods, and head west from there. Volunteer laborers and career railroad workers will be doing their best to build up our road and rail network to support us, though they have a lot on their various appendages to deal with and might be understaffed at the moment. We'll be needing to resupply via airship for now. I'm aware that this limits our mobility, and our chances to advance on the enemy beyond our infrastructure is next to nil for our ground forces, especially tanks and mechs. M.A.R.S. forces will be deployed across the continent to engage the enemy where possible, and the Flight Corps will continue their attacks on enemy forces where they find them and where they have the range and weapons to do so.

"We have a chance to stop the enemy before they ravage any towns or our logistics. We have a chance to remember our honored dead from the first war. We can, and we will, find enemy weaknesses and take advantage of them. We can and will win the war this time.

"But first," Azurite said, and paused for dramatic effect. "I have some good news. Our platoon will be receiving the Mark 1.2 mech, which has enhanced performance compared to the first iterations, and these will be replacing our 1.1s. They operate with the same controls, so using them will be like using your previous mechs, only easier."

Another cheer came. Few had been satisfied with the first version of the Mk. 1s, and to be fair most had seen Mk 1.2s in action, which did seem to operate more fluidly and slightly faster than the original design did. Spike had been on of the few who had had the pleasure to operate one, courtesy of being the adopted little brother of an Equestrian Princess, and the machine had worked very much like the original, without the repeated breakdowns. Even it's heat ray seemed a little stronger than the original, though how much that would help in battle was a question yet to be answered.

Of course, came the thought in Spike's mind, that means our old clankers will be passed off to newer recruits. I pity them. But the thought of not having to constantly be fixing problems and being given machines that would work was overwhelming.

"Pack your things and get ready. We board our train in an hour, and we'll be departing twenty minutes after that." The Lieutenant saluted. "Dismissed."

Once again, Spike boarded the train, putting his duffel bag on his lap as he sat down. Others were doing likewise. Nickel was holding a battery-powered radio; it was primitive, and the antennae on them had to be constantly readjusted to hear anything. But it would prove to be a good distraction once they got moving.

The rest of the squadron piled in and sat down.

Okay... duffel bag, check. Mechs safely fastened onto flatcars, check. Snacks... he checked a pocket of his bag. Check.

He sat down. He didn't feel much like talking. If anything, he felt numb. The war was finally here. And, as he looked around, he realized that most of his squadron felt the same way.

As the train began moving, the car was almost completely quiet. Compared to their first deployment to Ponyville, no one was talking. There were a few whispers, but they were occasional and short-lived.

The only real noise was the portable radio carried by Nickel. Every so often, it would actually sound out clearly. "Saddle Arabia declares mobilization of the reserves..." "Mount Aris announces it's fleet is ready to move..." "...unconfirmed reports of Amari fighting machines in the Badlands..." "Griffonia declares war on the Amari..." "Inhabitants of Hollow Shades claim to have seen battle between lights in the night sky..." "Equestrian Air Force reports bombing of a cluster of cylinders..."

The train continued to move. As it had priority, it did not stop for any station, and as such there were no stops. The landscape seemed to fly by. As the hours passed, the silence, aside from mostly static from Nickel's radio, continued.

Finally, the train stopped so the engine could be refueled. As it was, Nickel was able to get the antennae on the radio to work properly, and for once complete broadcasts could be received;

"-th Aerial Squadron reports successful rocket attack on Amari cylinder in the western Bone Dry Desert. Unfortunately, when pegasi scouts went to inspect the damage, it was found to have been used purely for cargo, and the brave defenders of Equestria had no means to take the materials with them."

"Aw, great, a wasted attack," Sea Bird grumbled, breaking the silence.

"Not like they could know beforeclaw," Smolder replied. "If they all look the same on the outside..."

"-8th Pegasi Rangers have found an Amari cylinder in the Hayseed Swamps, south of Baltimare. The Amari have emerged from the cylinder, with at least one fighting machine. The Rangers withdrew without casualties, albeit with much of the swamp trees being burned by enemy heat rays."

"So, they're out," Spike said, voice full of gloom. "That's bad."

"The 20th Aerial Squadron is on its way to finish the job with its load of bombs and rockets, as are the Tank and Mech Corps. Foot soldiers and artillery crews will be ferried to the predicted lines of battle."

"That's not gonna do much, if the Amari huddle under the trees instead of burning them all down," Nickel note,d and the others gave grim grunts in response.

"The 3rd Yak Army has reported making contact with four Amari fighting machines just north of Luna Bay. Equestrian naval and aerial forces are on their way to assist in the imminent battle. Additionally, the 30th Pegasi Rangers have engaged two flying machines north of the Caves of Conundrum in the western half of the Bone Dry Desert, using high-caliber rifles. Casualties were heavy for the pegasi, but the regiment reported that one flying machine withdrew from the fighting covered in flames and it's armor pierced repeatedly by the rifles the pegasi used; the other covered its comrade, joining it in retreat."

"Ugh, I wonder how heavy their losses were," Spike mumbled. "I'm sure it was steep. Regiments have a thousand ponies or other beings in them. They probably lost at least a couple hundred; could have been half of them wiped out."

"Sounds like the Amari scum piloting the thing is gonna crash," Sea Bird said hopefully.

"Klugetown has reported firing on, but not damaging, a flying machine. More cylinders have been tracked by Rangers and by the Hippogriff Scouts; five have landed in Slung Troll Swamp in the far south of the continent, and another two confirmed to have come down in Pine Needle Barrens.

"Friends and brave allies, the situation is dire, but not desperate," the announcer went on. "The enemy have landed in patterns that suggest an attempt to surround the Equestrian continent from its extremes, away from any cities of note, but in locations where our troops, aside from those in the air, have difficulty getting to. But while the enemy will be able to emerge unscathed, they need to crush our resistance if they intend to win. They will have to launch offensives against our various civilizations, where they will find the determined soldiers and survivors of the last war waiting for them. With the memories of the previous murders and knowledge of the abject evils the enemy seek to subject us all to, they will fight the enemy with weapons capable of slaying the invaders. Already, as we've noted before in other broadcasts today, the enemy have suffered losses; five minutes ago, a report came in that a cylinder in the Griffish Isles was bombed by airships and pulverized; this time, remnants of Amari bodies were found inside the ruins of the cylinder, and as such one pod of fighting machines will never get off the ground. While these victories are small, and the majority of the enemy cannot be reliably assaulted, we have proven even in the first day of this invasion that we are more able to handle the murderous curs of Amari than we were previously. As our aeroplanes, tanks, mechs, and soldiers march to battle, know that the enemy will not have things all his way this time, and we can defeat him."

King Thorax waited, his impatience growing, for his brother's return.

The Amari were in the Badlands. They could be at the hive in days, if not hours. He needed to know where they were. Pharynx had sent out squads of soldiers to patrol, but he had also gone with one of them to reconnoiter.

He never was willing to send his fellow warriors into situation that he wouldn't wade into himself. I generally admire that about him, but today-

Pharynx almost broke open the doors with the amount of force he used to open them. Without any further ado, he simply trotted into the throne room. "Bro, we've got problems."

"Are they that close already?"

"Not yet," the muscular changeling answered. "But it's not good. We know that at least four cylinders landed in the south west, another two in the north east, and two each to the west and south."

"We're surrounded, then." Thorax tried desperately not to let his fear show on his face.

"Yeah. But I'm not sure that it's because of us. Another two cylinders landed a few miles away from the hive, and-"

"WHAT!?! Why didn't you lead with that information!?"

"Because you didn't let me finish," Pharynx said, unfazed. "Yeah, they landed close, and the Amari in them are already out, but they weren't advancing on the hive; I don't think they realize its there."

Thorax let out a deep breath. "That they haven't moved to attack us yet doesn't mean they won't get to it eventually," he stated.

"But if we look at their locations on the map, it seems to me like they wanted to secure the Badlands. My other scouts have all reported that there isn't any major attempt being made by the enemy to attack; they're just constructing their machines."

"And once they're finished, where do you think they're gonna go?"

"Wherever their war plans told them to. The Badlands are almost entirely surrounded by mountains, with only two small passes to the north and south, both easily defended or blocked. If I had to guess, they must have planned to use the very nature of the Badlands as a fortress. Think about it; any allied forces brought in by air can be detected and fried by heat rays before they can set up a base with proper logistics. Tanks and Mechs can't get through, not without either having to disassemble and then reassemble them or teleport them one or two at a time."

Looking at the war map in the center of the room, Thorax concluded that his brother was right. "But what about us? What do we do? We can't camouflage our hive any more than it already is, because their satellites will notice."

"So we don't. You know we have an army, bro; I sure know it, having had to whip them into shape. And we're changelings; we can adapt to look like whatever we want with a few exceptions."

"What are you suggesting?"

"We fight a guerilla war against the Amari. Our army is well armed and, though I'd never admit it to them, they're ready. We have high caliber rifles and artillery; no tanks, because we weren't able to get those underground factories constructed in time. No aeroplanes, either. But we don't need that fancy junk. We can mimic rocks and plants until the invaders pass, then when they've passed by and aren't looking, we stick dynamite charges on them, blast their legs, joints, and other vulnerable parts with our rifles, and use hidden artillery to blow anything that survives all that away."

"That might work once or twice, Pharynx. But the Amari aren't idiots. They won't fall for the same tricks over and over again."

"That's why we'll improvise; never hit 'em in the same way twice. We send out scouts, they blend in like we all can, and those scouts find their weaknesses. Then we kill the Amari."

"I hope you're right, Pharynx. Because the hive is virtually at the center of the hole of the 'donut' we're stuck in. If the Amari want a centralized command center in the region, they'd set up shop only a few miles away. Much too close."

"I'll admit, I hadn't thought of that. You've learned strategy too."

"I have to; I'm the king of the changelings. It's my duty to protect my people from being slaughtered. We were fortunate that the Amari didn't find the hive the first time they invaded, but we can't count on that remaining the case forever. Have some of our drones constantly digging evacuation tunnels; we'll need them if our home gets attacked directly. And try to get gas masks for the entire population if you haven't already; we'll need them in the case where we need to evacuate."

"Good thinking, bro. I'll have them get started right away."

"Good. And I'd like our armies to use tunnels we already have when they move out to hit the enemy; the longer the enemy are confused as to where we are, the longer we survive."

"Of course."

Continent 1 - 2, cycle 7912.8

Mudpudjaris groggily awoke from its long slumber. It registered the heavy gravity of the New Homeworld as it expelled the sludge it had consumed. The stuff was revolting, but had served to cushion the blow of reentry and landing.

It tried to get up, and failed. It tried again, this time managing to just barely pull itself from its chamber. Nearby, other People were doing the same.

"The New Homeworld's gravity will take much getting used to," another Person named Prisgarjenkis said, his telepathic voice drifting over them all.

"With time, it will become normal," Mudpudjaris replied. "In the meantime, we have much work to do. We begin construction of the weaponry at once."

"Yes, commander," all of its hivemates replied.

Mudpudjaris began to drag itself over to its transportation chair across the room. These chairs, with their tentacles and light heat rays, would provide the means by which to begin their work. The handling machines were much deeper in the cylinder, and would take a while to get to. But the chairs, with their basic equipment, would serve initially.

As it pressed the button to unleash its chair, it thought about the conditions on the Homeworld that had led to this moment.

The Homeworld had once been teeming with life. It was colder than the New Homeworld, but bearable. However, life had begun to erode. It had first begun thousands of cycles ago, and at first little seemed to change. However, as hundredcycles passed, the world become colder; the atmosphere receded, the waters retreated to the poles, and it became dangerous to live on the surface as the weather grew to become greatly destructive and unpredictable. The People had had to retreat to underground cities built in the enormous mountains of the Homeworld.

As Mudpudjaris got into it's chair - and it's companions did likewise - it continued thinking. Even though the mountains had provided safety, this movement had been inadequate. The People retreated to the hives they had constructed for themselves in the mountains, and it had not taken long for war to break out between them. For several hundrecycles, a series of hive wars had devastated the People. One hive after another was overwhelmed and exterminated by it's neighbors, and what had once been thousand of hives decreased to one thousand, as the smaller hives were wiped out to make room and secure resources for the more numerous ones. And in the background, the Homeworld continued to decay, only fueling the People's desperation, fueling more wars. The number of hives decreased by another three hundred.

By that point, alternative solutions, some of them more radical than others, had been suggested. The use of climate stabilizers had been floated around; they would have essentially been used to exude the necessary atmospheric gases the People needed in order to breathe, with the hope that this would also halt the collapse of the ecosystem. Another idea had been to launch giant mirrors into orbit to melt the ice caps the planet's water had mostly withdrawn to. Still another plan was to double down on going underground; the entire society would dig not just into mountains but also through the planet's crust wherever there was space and equipment to do so.

But the most common plan was simply to head towards the one world in the system that had regular access to sunlight, water, and life in general; the New Homeworld, then known as the Centerworld.

Many had scoffed at this plan; the sun was clearly orbiting the Centerworld, and as such the beings there were either technologically advanced or had some other source of power to control it. An invasion could see it used against them. And recently, several discrepencies, fortunately short-lived, had been observed.

But there was no other alternative. While the Homeworld still had abundant mineral resources, life was becoming harder. Even living in the mountains, with hydroponic farms and ranches, cities, mines, and magnet-line carriers, was getting more and more difficult. After all, a number of hive cities had been destroyed when groundshakes had caused the rocky ceilings high above to collapse. And while the mountains provided shelter from the meteorites that now regularly struck the Homeworld, a few of these had hit powerfully enough to cause the same kind of devastation as groundshakes did. And then there was the issue of limited space, which was the primary cause of the hive wars. The Homeworld was smaller than the Centerworld. Even with Greatmountain, which served as a capital city of the Hives Council, it would take ages to dig the necessary amount of room for the People to live in. It had indeed taken a long time just to dig the initial underground hiveforts that had served as the basis for new cities.

The Centerworld did not have these problems. It had plenty of room, plenty of atmosphere that showed no signs of collapsing, and most importantly, plenty of food.

One hive, one of those blessed with a thousand or more individuals, decided to send an expedition to the Centerworld. They had constructed a launching gun on the surface of Greatmountain to fire cylinders full of People and their machines to the Centerworld, which they had now started calling the New Homeworld.

The expedition had fared well initially. Plenty of prey were on the world; some were clearly intelligent, and had put up resistance to the expedition. But these primitives were routed in one engagement after another, with these fights barely being worth called battles. One prey city after another had been destroyed and exterminated, with some of the prey being captured for food. All was going well.

And then the People on the expedition started getting sick.

It had started with a few individuals, who were quickly quarantined. That did not solve the problem, however. More People continued to get sick, and many died shockingly fast, some within a just few daycycles of getting sick. The entire expedition had died of these illnesses.

Fortunately, the expedition had managed to discover just what had made them ill; microorganisms, mostly from within the prey they feasted upon. These, not the resistance of the prey, had brought the People in the expedition low. Some data had been received before the last of the expedition had died, but most of the necessary knowledge was either lost or hadn't been compiled before then.

The expedition had failed. But the fact remained that had the microorganisms been suppressed or eradicated, the People would likely have destroyed all resistance and conquered the New Homeworld. The primitives on the planet hadn't been able to offer resistance capable of doing more than delay the conquest. They had used powers unseen on the Homeworld, but these had proven ineffective.

It wasn't as if the prey were completely harmless; they had succeeded in killing some of the People before being crushed. And observatories had noticed something some eight cycles ago, some two cycles after the first expedition; the New Homeworld was starting to show signs of industrialization. Smoke billowed from primitive cities, and it was clear that the prey were building up to defend themselves against another attack.

That had led to an increased determination to launch another, successful invasion before the prey could build defenses that could reliably kill the People when they landed. Nine more launching guns had been constructed on Greatmountain, and airtight cylinders constructed to transport them and their equipment to the New Homeworld. Plans were made to aim at locations where the intelligent prey lacked cities or infrastructure; although this would be a burden upon the invasion's food supply, it would be temporary. It was predicted that the prey would protect their population centers, and they would likely respond very violently to another attack force. As such, protecting the People was of primary importance, so that they could build their hiveforts before the prey could use their primitive transport systems to deliver assault forces against the cylinders. Initial efforts would be made to remain concealed from the native forces at first; once strong enough, and as soon as the first hiveforts were of sufficient strength to deter attack, the People could launch their own offensives.

As Mudpudjaris began using his chair to bring out the first construction materials, it thought about the problems that would come from living here. The sun clearly revolved around the Homeworld. The reason was unknown, but clearly it was the natives who had control. An attack on a city in the center of Continent 1, a city on a mountain, had seen the sun delayed in the sky for hours before it resumed moving. Apparently, it was linked to a white prey creature with wings and a horn. offensives against that city were expressly forbidden, in addition to surrounding areas. An artificial circle would be drawn around this city, not to be crossed before the People had the chance to know what the white prey creature used to control the celestial bodies around the planet. Once this means had been located or discovered, then the mountaincity would be destroyed once again.

But first, the fighting machines needed to be constructed. These would serve as both weapons and as much greater transportation for the People.

There was much work to do.