Chapter 2: Sunny Disposition

Evan leaned back against one of the IFV’s wheels, setting his pack down beside him. The armored companies had formed a circle around the downed radio Scuttler, creating a kind of wagon fort, the Kodiaks pointing their cannons out into the empty expanse beyond. He had no idea whether this place had been a grassy plain before the orbital strikes, or maybe a lake, but it was completely barren now. He glanced up at the sky, seeing a few slivers of blue here and there, the glow of the auroras bleeding through. The wind was slowly blowing away the ash clouds, and he was grateful to have the IFV shielding him from the worst of it. With nothing to get in its way, it was whipping up the ash like a sandstorm, and he could hear it impacting the other side of the vehicle.

Hernandez, Brooks, and Garcia flopped down beside him, Garcia producing a collapsible stove from his pack. Tatzi and Borzka weren’t far behind, sitting on the dusty ground with their long legs crossed, fishing inside their packs for their oversized MREs. Evan glanced up to see Foster and Collins making their way over. The usually surly Foster now had a smile on his face, and it seemed that he and Collins had made up, the two of them engaged in conversation.

Foster hesitated a moment before taking a seat beside the Borealans, but they accepted him just as they accepted the rest of the unit. Evan hadn’t been shy about telling the squad what he and Foster had gone through during their brief separation from the rest of the team, and stories of the man’s heroics had repaired much of the damage done by his initial bad attitude. Evan doubted whether he would ever truly warm to the Jarilans, but a lack of overt hostility was a pretty good start. If tolerance was the first step, then perhaps acceptance could come later.

Jade and her Jarilan counterparts appeared with Sunny in tow, the massive battlesuit lumbering along slowly to match pace with them, its footsteps shaking Garcia’s little stove as he tried to light a flammable gel packet beneath it. It was so odd to see the thing in such a mundane situation.

The suit came to a stop beside their little camp, settling into a crouch on its digitigrade legs, its three arms hanging at its sides. Once again, the almost imperceptible seam that ran down its abdomen began to split open, the two halves of its inch-thick shell parting to expose the tentacle-filled cavity within. Ropes of thick, viscous slime dripped to the ground, soaking into the layer of ash as the muscular tendrils inside began to shift. The glistening mass retracted to expose lemon-colored carapace, unwinding their tight coils from around Sunny’s slender limbs. She placed all four of her hands on the edges of the cockpit to pull herself out – if the term cockpit even made sense in this context – stepping down from her suit.

She was much taller than Jade and the other Drones, putting her somewhere between a human and a Borealan, though her build was more willowy. It almost looked like she had been stretched out. Save for her stature, she was identical to the other Jarilans that Evan had encountered, with the same feathery antennae and expressive eyes. Rather than a belt or a rig, she had a shaped recess in her thigh armor where a sidearm was stowed. She shook a clinging glob of slime from one of her upper arms, giving the visibly disgusted onlookers an innocent shrug.

“I’d usually have some Workers on hand to towel me down, so unless any of you fine gentlemen want to volunteer...”

Knowing that she wasn’t going to get any takers, she turned slightly, inspecting something inside the Warrior’s dripping chest cavity. Evan raised his eyebrows as he saw her from the back for the first time. The firm chitin plates that covered her body split apart down the length of her spine to expose something that resembled pink brain matter, covered over in a kind of waxy, translucent layer. There was a row of half a dozen sockets running from the base of her neck to her lower back, and each one was connected to the suit’s shadowy interior via a flexible, fleshy cable that bore a disturbing resemblance to an umbilical cord.

Using her four arms, she reached behind her back, probing for the cables with her fingertips. She began to unplug them one by one, Evan feeling a shudder pass through him as uncomfortably long, metallic needles slid out of the sockets. The orifices themselves were encircled by metal rings that mated to the plugs, the holes sealing up as soon as they were disconnected, pieces of rigid chitin folding down over them to protect the sensitive tissue within. After a few moments, she was left with an overlapping row of plates running down her spine like scales, providing enough coverage that he could barely see any brain matter now. He watched them shift as she stretched, then she turned again, following her smaller counterparts to join the growing circle. She lowered herself to the ground using her lower pair of arms, crossing her long legs, sitting there like a yoga instructor about to teach a class.

“Okay, who wants to give me some sugar?” Sunny asked. “That’s not a euphemism – I didn’t pack a lunch.”

“Here,” Foster said, tearing open his MRE. He fished inside the plastic packet, producing a little container of Jarry juice the size of a toothpaste tube, then tossed it over to her. Sunny snatched it out of the air, then gave him a wink.

“Thanks for the honey, honey.”

“Never liked that stuff anyway,” he replied. “A bean burrito, on the other hand,” he continued as he fished out a larger packet. He slotted it into the sleeve of a flameless ration heater, then added water, shaking it for a moment to get the chemical reaction going.

“I’ve always found a certain fascination in watching humans masticate,” Sunny added, her mouth parts opening up as she extended her proboscis. She twisted the cap off the tube of honey, sliding the appendage inside.

Evan glanced over at Foster, expecting some kind of negative reaction, but the Marine seemed to be holding his tongue. Maybe his change of heart was more genuine than it had first appeared. There was also the distinct possibility that being hit on by a giant insect that had just climbed out of a meat suit full of tentacles had simply overwhelmed his capacity to be offended, like a form of exposure therapy.

“So, what ship are you guys assigned to?” Sunny asked as she continued to drink, pulling off the usual Jarilan ventriloquist act.

“We’re what they call a Ghost Company,” Garcia replied as he tended to his miniature stove. He was cooking a little pot of what looked like beef stew over the flames created by the gel packet. “We were reassigned after our original companies were broken up. The Bugs hit us pretty hard during the first landing. Most of us are from the Dragoon. These two are from the Spratley,” he added with a nod to Evan and Hernandez. “And, our madcats are from the Guam.”

“It’s starting to sound like I’ve been assigned to an interesting squad,” she mused as she took another sip from her tube, Evan watching the bulge travel up her proboscis. “This is the first time they’ve actually let me deploy, so I’m looking to make up for lost time.”

“I don’t think you’ll have any issues rackin’ up kills in that thing,” Hernandez said with a nod to the idle suit. “Is it, like ... switched off now?”

“No, sixteen is still awake,” Sunny replied as she glanced at the suit over her shoulder. “She’ll respond to my commands to the best of her limited abilities.”

She gave a silent signal, and the suit rose from its crouched position, taking a step towards them. Everyone save for the Jarilans recoiled in alarm, Borzka baring his teeth in a snarl. The suit quickly settled again, Sunny chuckling at their reaction, holding a hand to her mouth in a gesture that she must have picked up from her human counterparts.

“She’s a darling as long as there are no hostiles around,” Sunny explained. “Our Warriors have a rudimentary intelligence – just enough to respond to basic commands and to know not to step on Workers on their way to the maintenance bays. It’s something equivalent to a lower life form, like an insect or a fish. You want a closer look?” she asked, giving Hernandez a sly smile. “C’mon, she won’t bite. I promise.”

He looked to Tatzi as if to ask for permission, Evan stifling a laugh as the Borealan narrowed her eyes suspiciously, giving him a slow nod. He and Sunny rose to their feet, and he followed her over to the suit, the pair stopping before its open chest cavity.

“Never thought I’d touch a live one,” he muttered, reaching out to brush his fingers against its carapace tentatively.

“Go on,” Sunny prompted, planting her lower pair of arms on her wide hips. “You gotta get in there elbow-deep for the real Warrior experience. Don’t be scared to get your hands dirty...”

Hernandez turned back to glance at his friends, but he couldn’t back out now.

“Elbow-deep, Hernandez!” Collins called to him.

He shook his head in exasperation, rolling up his right sleeve, then reached into the suit. Evan could hear the wet squelching sound as he pushed his hand into the mass of tentacles, grimacing as the slime coated his forearm.

“Ew, it’s warm!” he remarked. “Feels like a bunch of tongues or somethin’.”

“I’d call it cozy,” Sunny added.

“I feel like I’m birthin’ a calf. Whoa, somethin’ grabbed me!”

“Aw, she likes you!” Sunny chuckled as he struggled to withdraw his arm. “Just kidding, this thing has the mental capacity of a beetle,” she said as she rapped on its shell with her fist. “That’s just a reflex. The whole process is automated, actually. She would pull you inside and secure your limbs if I gave her the signal. I like my men flustered, covered in slime, and safely tied down,” she added as she glanced back at the scowling Borealan. “But, I can see that I’m stepping on someone’s tail.”

She snapped her fingers, which Evan doubted was actually a signal that the suit would respond to, and the grasping tentacles released their captive. Hernandez tried to wipe the layer of gelatinous goo off on the leg of his pressure suit, the substance matting the hair on his forearm.

“Don’t worry, it’s not toxic,” Sunny said. “It’s a water-based lubricant.”

“You are one uninhibited Jarrie, ain’t ya?” Hernandez grumbled.

“They don’t let us out much,” she chuckled, giving him an encouraging pat on the back as he returned to his seat. When Hernandez had made it back over to the IFV, he reached out to Collins with his slime-covered arm, the Marine scrambling past Foster in an attempt to avoid him.

“Hey, watch the burrito!” Foster complained as he leaned out of their way.

Evan watched Hernandez chase Collins around the vehicle, laughing to himself as he lifted his own meal off the ground. He slid it out of its sleeve, peeling open the packet, a wisp of steam rising into the air.

“What’s on the menu today?” Jade asked, shuffling over to sit beside him.

“A maple pork sausage patty,” he replied, taking in a lungful of its scent. “The side is hash browns and bacon, and I have a maple muffin for dessert. I guess the Canadians had their way with menu number eight.”

“Ever since you blended that food for me back on the carrier, the honey hasn’t been doing it for me,” Jade said as she watched him take a bite out of his patty. He held it in his mouth for a moment – it was still a little too hot to chew – blowing cool air over it as he juggled it with his tongue. “I know it has all the nutrition that we need, but maybe I can petition the hive to make some different flavors, at least. A little variety would go a long way.”

“You want my grape juice?” Evan asked, waving the little packet of powder at her.

“Sure,” she replied, her antennae bobbing happily. He filled a collapsible cup from his canteen, then mixed in the powder, stirring it with a plastic spoon before passing it to her.

“Haven’t seen humans and Jarries getting on this well since I left the colony,” Sunny said, sitting down to Jade’s right. She took another drink from her tube of honey, watching the pair curiously. “I don’t mean to pry, but it’s pretty much written all over you,” she continued with a nod to Evan. “The pheromones, I mean.”

“Yeah, I’m getting used to that,” he replied.

“I’ve been furloughed in orbit since the carriers jumped in, and I was starting to think the Coalition didn’t want us here,” Sunny continued. “It’s ... nice to see that’s not the case.”

“It took them a while, but I think they’ve warmed up to us,” Jade said as she took a sip from her grape juice.

“Smells like it,” Sunny chuckled. “Seriously, though, I didn’t think I was going to drop down here and hang out with humans. I thought I’d be staying in my suit until I was shipped back to the carrier.”

“Here,” Jade said, passing her the cup. “Try this.”

“What is it?” Sunny asked, waving her antennae over it suspiciously in the same way a human might give it a tentative sniff.

“Rehydrated fruit juice,” she replied. “Trust me, it’s good.”

Sunny probed the beverage with her proboscis, then her eyes lit up, and she took a longer draw.

“Delicious!” she exclaimed, passing the cup back to Jade. “I haven’t eaten anything but honey since leaving the colony.”

“Sounds like someone needs to open a Jarilan-themed bar there,” Evan added, taking another bite out of his sausage patty. “They’d make a killing.”

“Speaking of which,” Jade began, setting down her cup. “In just a few hours, we’ll be moving on the Ant Hill. I don’t know if everyone really appreciates how heavily defended the Queen will be. It’s going to be a ... hard-won battle.”

“You guys come from a hive,” Evan said, glancing over at the pair as he started on his next course. “What’s it like on Jarilo?”

“The Queen lives in the deepest chamber,” Jade replied. “She’s kept far underground in a secure area, separated by security doors and guarded by a contingent of males who spend all of their lives by her side.”

“That’s how it works for nuptial fleets, at least,” Sunny added. “For a hive that’s been digging in for this long, who knows what kind of defenses they might have developed? I pity whoever lands the job of going in there and clearing the tunnels out.”

“It’ll be the Trog teams,” Evan replied. “That’s what they do – they’re specially trained to clear Bug tunnels.”

“We offered to help out, but I’m told that SWAR wasn’t having it,” Sunny continued as she took another sip from her tube of honey. “A lot of those tunnels are going to be large enough to accommodate Warriors because they’re a useful tool in tunnel fighting, and we could do a lot of good below ground where the tanks won’t fit.”

“Yeah, I had a run-in with SWAR,” Evan muttered. “They’re not the most accommodating people, especially when it comes to Jarilans. They talked about my squadmates like they were military hardware.”

“I thought you were going to punch that guy right in his stupid visor decal,” Jade chuckled.

“Well, I’m glad there are people like you here,” Sunny said with a smile bright enough to match her namesake. “It’s almost like being back home again.”

“I think they might reconsider when they actually reach the Ant Hill and realize what they’re dealing with,” Jade added. “Being able to carry heavy weapons and block tunnels with those shields would be invaluable. They’ll need every advantage they can get.”

“It’s not our job,” Evan said with a shrug. He broke off a piece of his maple muffin, popping it into his mouth. “Our job is going to be to support the advance on the hill and secure the area after the fact.”

“You say that like it’s going to be easy,” Jade chuckled, giving him a nudge with her lower arm. “The Bug forces are going to be concentrated at that hill, and it’s going to be their last stand. They’re fighting to the death – literally. If we kill the Queen, the hive is effectively sterilized.”

“They say that a knife-tooth is most dangerous when it’s cornered,” Sunny added with a knowing nod of her horned head.

“Knife-tooth?” Evan asked, raising an eyebrow.

“A little critter we have to deal with back home,” Jade explained. “They’re fond of eating our chickens.”

“So,” Sunny said, her tone growing more conspiratorial as she leaned in. “How did you two get together? If there’s a knack to it, I want you to clue me in. I’m in the market for some endo action, and the fish haven’t been biting, if you get my drift.”

“What does endo mean?” Evan asked as Jade unsuccessfully tried to stifle a laugh.

“Endo,” Sunny repeated, reaching over Jade’s head to give his upper arm a pinch through his pressure suit. “Boys with bones on the inside. As in, by the end of tonight, you’re gonna endo-up in my quarters. That doesn’t really work,” she sighed, settling back into her seat on the ground. “I’m a Pilot, not a Punlet.”

“I’m gonna put you back in your pod and write return to sender on the hull,” Jade chuckled, giving Sunny a playful shove. “There’s no knack to it,” she added, becoming more serious. “You just have to give them the time they need to come around.” She reached out to take Evan’s hand in hers, giving it a squeeze, the impromptu display of affection making his cheeks flush. “Some of them don’t, but the right one will.”

“No fair, you got a head start,” Sunny said with a smirk. “I was running combat sims for the better part of a year, then it took us six months to get here. Now, they drop me in when the fight is almost over.”

“I’m sure there will be plenty of time for socializing when we’re done,” Jade added, giving her an encouraging pat on the thigh. The Pilot was so much taller than she was that it was the only thing she could feasibly reach. “There will be lots of endo boys sitting around waiting for orders with nothing better to do than talk to you.”

“Sounds like a good time,” she replied with a wink. “Now, all I have to do is survive.”

“There it is,” Hernandez whistled, dialing in the magnification on his visor.

Evan did the same, peering into the distance. The ash clouds had been almost completely swept away by the violent winds now, and while a dark canopy still hung over the blasted landscape like a nuclear winter, the obscuring haze that had limited their visibility was now all but gone. They could see for kilometers, the flat landscape broken up here and there by low mountains and landforms that had once been concealed beneath lush forests, now reduced to carpets of blackened stumps. There had clearly been a lot of volcanism in this area at one point in the distant past. Ancient lava flows that were newly uncovered dominated the region, and in the distance, the Ant Hill rose into the sky.

It looked to Evan like a mountain that had been cut in half, its steep faces rising to terminate in a flat, table-like top with no peak. It was large enough to be wreathed in snow, but it looked like most of it had been melted by the heat of the bombardment, only a few clusters of white starting to reappear where fluffy clouds were forming at its edges. The high winds must be blowing warm air up the mountain’s face, where the altitude was cooling it, creating condensation.

“How tall do you reckon that is?” Brooks asked, walking out from behind the idling IFV to get a better view. They were perched on a hill, the rest of the company assembling behind them, preparing for the assault.

“Data says fifteen hundred meters,” Simmons replied, joining the squad as they gawked at it.

“We don’t gotta climb up there, do we?” Hernandez sighed.

“There will be entrances near the base of the structure,” Sunny said, her voice coming through over the local channel. She was in her suit again, looming over the team as she stood behind them, the many lenses of her helmet glinting in the dim light. “Those slopes will probably be covered in defensive structures.”

“That’s what the UNNI surveys show,” Simmons confirmed. “That mountain has a shell of volcanic basalt and granite that the orbital guns can’t punch through without breaching the moon’s crust and making the Siberian Traps look like a joke. It’s a better holdout than the critters even realize.”

Evan turned his magnification to its maximum setting, peering at the far-off slopes, atmospheric haze tinting them blue as the system struggled to clear up the picture.

He could see sprawling structures, what looked like defensive fortifications built into – or perhaps carved from – the very rock. They took the form of cylindrical towers with domed roofs, similar to the ones they had faced off against during their trench assault, the long barrels of plasma cannons jutting from their walls. There were more traditional bunkers, too, little domed pillboxes that were scattered across the exposed mountainside like soap bubbles wherever there was space for them. Another common structure projected vertically from the sheer rock face like the turret of a medieval castle. They sported windows like horizontal arrow slits, designed to let the occupants fire out at anyone who might approach the mountain. These were more common at higher altitudes, where there were fewer slopes and outcrops to make use of.

The placement of the fortifications seemed devoid of any logic or strategy, and there was little consistency in their sizes, as if each one had been designed and placed without much consideration for the grander whole. Still, their sheer number was intimidating, leaving the mountainside bristling with guns and bunkers.

There were the resin and soil structures that he was already familiar with, suggesting that the Bugs must have carted thousands of tons of earth up the mountain, but many of the fortifications were made from stone. It hadn’t been hewn into blocks or even chiseled away in a recognizable sense. Instead, the surfaces were oddly smooth, as though they had been melted by some kind of acid or plasma until they had taken the appropriate shape. It gave them the look of poured concrete that had been polished to a sheen. As was usual for the Bugs, there was no decoration, no adornment. Everything was strictly functional with no care devoted to aesthetics. It reminded him of brutalist architecture in a way.