With an echoing screech, a purple-tinted airship rockets over-head, its forward mounted cannons spewing azure death. Beneath the surreal tableau of glinting violet airships is another horrifying sight: A vast alien host moves forward, diminutive creatures up front, being lead by seven foot tall abominations. Amongst the chaos of battle, you can see one of the taller aliens clearer than the others. Wearing ancient looking silver armor, he opens his four mandibles and belts a terrifying roar. With his battle cry, all of the aliens around him surge forward, as the purple ships turn back for another attack.
All around you, you hear the distinctive clatter of automatic weapons fire. Fellow humans, doing everything they can to hold back the tide of on-rushing creatures. Your rifle feels heavy in your hands, almost as if it is daring you to heft it. Slowly, you raise your weapon, and open fire. You target the smaller aliens in front, blue-skinned simian creature wearing large tanks on their backs. With a lucky shot, you pierce one of the tanks, setting off a large explosion. The small creatures can only breathe methane, and the backpacks are part of their environment suits.
You’ve torn a small hole in the advance, but not enough to deter the attack. The gap closes quickly, and the aliens are suddenly on top of you. Swinging your rifle, you hit one creature in the head, but another three take its place. One of your allies bolts towards you, working the slide on a shotgun. A sharp report sounds, and several aliens fall back squirting blood. Before your fellow human can chamber another shell, one of the larger aliens lifts him up by his neck.
The being is wielding a sword made of bright blue glowing plasma, and it holds the weapon aloft, preparing for a vicious blow. Before he can bring down the sword, you hear a familiar sound. It’s a high pitched whine, an engine struggling to maintain maximum speed over rough terrain. The alien looks up, distracted by the sound, and drops the human he was holding. As your ally gasps for breath, five Warthogs, chain gun mounted combat jeeps, burst over the small cliff behind your position, and smash into the alien horde, splattering the small aliens milling around the sandbags.
The large alien that had been holding your friend ducks its head instinctively, and you seize the moment. You press the barrel of your assault rifle into its back, and pull the trigger. Purple blood spurts out in a torrent, and the alien lets out a yell of surprise. You keep firing until you hear the gun click, a sign that you’ve spent your entire magazine. The alien drops to the ground in front of you, the hole in its back smoking slightly, and its sword sputters and dies.
The Warthogs, having continued the attack, are now far enough into the enemy’s position that you can see the ground in front of your position clearly. Heaps of the small aliens cover the ground, interspersed with the corpses of the larger creatures. Here and there, a number of dead humans littler the ground, a sad testament to the price paid to retake this small patch of land from an implacable foe.
Sooner or later, you, and all of the human forces on this planet will have to face the main body of the occupying force. Sooner or later, this land will be retaken from the genocidal aliens who have claimed it. Sooner or later, the planet Harvest will be in human hands once more.