Battle of Ublaneth

From the extended fins of the Lone Wolf battle station, the vessel's land force of two hundred gunships made quick landfall onto Ublaneth soil. It wasn't the full arsenal the EVO was known for, far from it, but it was enough to annihilate a Pandemian force ten times its size.

A Grey Man commander disembarked from the gunboat with the strongest beasts at his command. The hot and gritted sand dug into their fur and scales, but the twisting fervor in their blood gave the monsters no pain or discomfort.

"Our old foes lie somewhere in these desert sands," the commander said. "The Monos can smell them in the cinders. Rukis, charge forth!"

The orders were heard, and the lizardmen stampeded. The wind howled with a gust from the south, flapping around them like a tempest, but the world remained quiet, too quiet. The beasts did not have the faculties of a normal human. No, they were built differently, but their sense of danger was keen, and they felt like a predator was watching them from an unknown origin. 

It was when they approached that several aliens felt something solid underneath the sand. It was metal, either a cool steel or an iron with a thick but bendable cover. It vibrated with a metallic twang that caught the lizards' attention, and the entire vanguard stopped as if spooked.

A deafening crack hit the desert like a thunderbolt, with fire and shrapnel bursting underneath a Ruki and shredding it from underneath, collapsing it with a dreadful cry. The aliens halted. A minefield? Were they standing on compromised ground? This thought was sound but didn't account for a lumbering metallic claw breaching the desert surface and clenching another lizardman with a three-pronged claw. Its surprise let the machine crush its insides with a simple squeeze, and within seconds, more burst from the ground.

One thousand automatons assaulted the EVO from below. Doctor Devol had many plans for the face of Pandema, with schemes reaching back as far as her mother's time as the chief ruler of Ublaneth, and one of those great methods of conquests was the Men of Iron, robotic giants that moved with free will and operated on the strict orders of the Doctor. Their bodies were red hot, and their bellies were cold blue, brimming with a portion of the infinite energy of Ublaneth's core inside of them. Their firepower couldn't be ignored.

Still, these machines were crude and simple, and the Rexes and Hares took to the automatons without fear in a brawl. They were slow and pathetic machines. The Herder's forces would surely win.

Suddenly, a gunship burst into flames, with shrapnel grazing the Gray Man's long, pointed ear. His keen sense of hearing detected the trajectory. It was their plateau. Up on the red rocky surface, in teams of three, the Earthlings poured sniper and rocket fire into the exposed EVO position. The distance and wind affected their accuracy, but for every five shots, two would hit, damaging or destroying a gunship. Compared to the robots, these were the real contenders.

"Take flight!" The Gray Man ordered. "Pacify the plateau!"

The EVO's air power diverted their attention and attacked the second front, a two versus two. With the oncoming approach, the Earthlings fell back. Soldiers scrambled back up the rock face, some even dropping their heavy equipment to make it into the safety of the clay passageways before plasma poured on their path. The top was not flat but had layers of hidden crevasses that the humans used as cover. From the top down, it would be a gun war.

As the conflict began in earnest, the Shipmaster kept a tally of the score safely within his bridge. Every lizard, mammal, amphibian, and machine under his command was listed in rows on a screen, indicating their status from alive to wounded to KIA, marked with a percentage point in bold green Numbers. In Kanian or Earth, the numbers would say 88%. After seven cities destroyed that was what he had left. 

"My lord," said one of the bridge imps. "We're getting limited return fire from the tunnels."

"These humans are a cut above the other kingdoms we've defeated," said the Shipmaster. "We keep losing gunships! Those are much more valuable than the chaff. I want them back up and running for a second wave. We'll use crewmen if we must."

Amid the melee between monster and robot, one of the Rukis made its way into an entry point made by the Lone Wolf. The floor was still hot and steaming with toxic fumes, but the base soldier entered and could hear the distant sound of machinery. A warcry was called. The underground was defenseless, and at breakneck speed, with synapses firing and uniform steps, the smaller races of the EVO made it for the hidden passage, forming a scaled mass like a eusocial species and rushing into the tight quarters like water. This wouldn't be their first excursion into the underdark, and their experience gave them a hunger that would put fear into any potential victim of their malice.

Outside on the plateau, the diversion became entrenched. The alien gunboats found some thousand Earthlings scurrying between the veins between the rocks, rifles aimed up, well covered, but susceptible to pinning. The red rock ignited into a cobalt blue as suppression fire pummeled the position all while troops still attached to their ships dropped into the fray.

However, as the reptiles made further gains into the broken mountainside, the pressure increased, and more fire was being drawn their way, a million lightning strikes from Earth's ammunition. Suddenly, the skies bellowed with the whip sound of missiles that sought out the skimmers. Some exploded before impact, reflecting off a sophisticated, if light energy shield, while others blew apart the vehicles like fireworks in the sky.

The Albatrosses had made their stand, most likely their last, as the burdensome vehicles that expended most of their fuel during the transport and rebasing of the Earthling forces. Their metal frames, angled up on inclined rock formations, would be where they stood, providing what remaining anti-air they had left, and their underslung turrets provided covering fire for troops to move under. The Earthlings would defend the point by circling the wagons.

"Eighty-five percent left." The Shipmaster mused. His red eyes glanced between the three fields of battle. His most favorite warriors streamed combat footage. His jaw jittered with an alien-like purr. "These casualties are very favorable to us."

The bridge of Flock 37 fell into a state of routine, with frequent updates on the battle and the ship's functions over a five-minute period, all of which showed morale to be high, rodents and imps and frogs all chirping along as they witnessed the strength of their less intelligent brethren. It was such a treat to live through the hunt vicariously.

"The vanguard has reached fifty meters underground, sire," reported an alien, his seat higher up in the circular chamber. "Their progress is experiencing usual delaying tactics."

"Weapon cooling process at 75%."

"Noting a vibration in the planet's crust. Registering a small earthquake."

The Shipmaster sighed and leaned back. "This is all good news. You are all acceptable slaves."

"My lord," squeaked up a small alien. "We're receiving a transmission from Flock 38."

"38?" The Shipmaster's moment of bliss soured instantly. He could imagine it, speaking with someone his rank. Disgusting.  "What do they want? Can't they see we're busy?"

"An update, my lord."

"Can they tell you? I doubt he'd wish to speak to me."

"The Cross Laws require-."

"Set to receive only, I'm begging you." The animal was about to fall out of his seat because of how much he twisted in its confinement.

But the order was followed and a message was set to play within a minute through the Shipmaster's chair. There would be no video, and the voice was garbled but understandable, as was tradition.

"The prey has noticed our presence. We will give chase and make this world their tombstone." The machine clicked and hummed, erasing the message immediately.

The Shipmaster scoffed. "What a fool. Of course, the humans knew about them. Anything else."

"My lord." An imp is running the lidar machine. "Both 38 and the human ship are accelerating and diving."

"Never mind them," he replied. "Let's keep to the battle."

"My lord, they're coming toward us."