The Tae-Run Wars

By Joshua Coene

“Captain, the Spear of Earth is arriving at our assigned position.”

“Thank you, Officer. Hold position.” Shun nodded an acknowledgement to the pilot’s station.
He felt his blood race, though he was careful not to let his excitement show. The crew was eager enough
for this fight without him showing off how big a rookie he was as well and egging them on. Shun was the
youngest person assigned to command this post in recent memory, but the Navy was desperate for trained
personnel.
Shun felt the gentle pressure of inertia as the braking thrusters at the front of the spacecraft
activated, slowing the ship to a stop precisely at the proper spot, much to the obvious delight of the
woman down at the navigator’s position. “Easy, Officer Hann.” The captain smiled wryly. “As much as
we are all duly impressed with your piloting abilities, I don’t think we need to hold a celebration every
time you bring us,” he checked his own readout, “within three meters of our objective.”
“Yes, Captain. Apologies.” The woman nodded slightly in a quick form of a bow. Shun looked
her over carefully. Despite having been on the front lines for the better part of the last year, Navigation
Officer Rae Hann still seemed almost painfully raw at times. Her deftness in maneuvering the massive
cruiser, though, could not be ignored.
Shun almost chuckled to himself. All of them still felt painfully raw at times. Shun himself had
graduated from the academy a little less than three years ago, then made captain of the Spear as she had
come straight out of the drydocks a year ago. Now her organic curves were as familiar to him as his own
body. He looked fondly over the bridge of the ship, running a hand over the smooth arms of his chair.
The bridge was all flowing lines, with a gentle slope down towards the viewscreen in front, almost like an
auditorium or theater. All the chairs were facing forward, with their respective controls and consoles
arrayed before them. On the screen at the front of the room was a view of the immense blackness of
space, dotted with stars, the glowing curve of the planet below visible as well.
A soft tone followed by a series of taps drew Shun’s gaze to the Communications Station. Eyes
intent on his console screen, Ensign Temmer’s fingers flew over his controls. “Captain Shun, I have an
incoming transmission from fleet command to all ships.”
Shun nodded, tugging at the neck of his uniform as he stood. “On screen.”
The crisp image of the Fleet Admiral, in his formal uniform, appeared on the viewscreen. Behind
the Admiral, the flagship’s command center was a hive of activity. Despite knowing that the admiral had
all the fleet’s captains on his screen, Shun felt that the old man’s austere gaze was on him and him alone.
“Captains of the Planetary Defense Navy, this may be my final address to many of you. We have fought
these alien invaders, these Tae-Run bastards, long and hard throughout our solar system. We have made
them bleed for every piece of our territory they stole from us. The time has come for our last stand! We
will fight them in the skies over our beloved homeworld! We shall resist to the end! No more will these
bastard Tae-Run take from us what is ours! We. Will. Not. Let. Them. Pass.
“Captains and crews of the Defensive Corps, I ask that you give everything you have. I cannot
lie; the aliens will have superior numbers as well as technology perverted to their vile ends. I do not
know if we can win this fight. But I will be damned to a hell worse than my darkest imaginings if I let
them take my home without giving my last gasp of breath in defiance!” The admiral bared his teeth in a
savage grin; Shun’s expression quickly matched the admiral’s, and was mirrored on bridges of all the
arrayed starships. “While there is yet breath in my body, I will fight! Fight on, you brave bastards, and
when you get to hell save me a seat!”
Cheers went up as crew and officers throughout the fleet let out a roar of approval. They’d all
been fighting a losing war against these aliens for far too long, and now it was finally time to make their
last stand. There was a sense of desperate celebration among the defenders, a certain catharsis to
knowing that, live or die, this was going to be the end. Synthehol had been distributed the night before,
and the fleet was ready for one last party.
 Shun looked out over his bridge crew with no small sense of pride. They were mostly new,
recruited into the Navy at what, under any other circumstances, would have been considered far too
young. This was a war for survival, though, and certain sacrifices needed to be made.
Then again, he wasn’t precisely the image of the veteran soldier himself. Hell, some of them
were older even than Shun himself, Security Officer Braun, for instance. Shun, though, had been a cadet
in the Academy, about to get his commission, when this whole mess had started. It had been three years
before when the Tae-Run had first arrived. Three years that seemed like a lifetime now…

“I hope that you will understand, Captain, why it is impossible to grant you and your people the
right to colonize our planet.” The official was genuinely apologetic, but the Tae-Run representative
didn’t seem mollified. Shun squirmed slightly, tugging furtively at the collar of his formal uniform. He,
and several others of the best and brightest Academy cadets, had been included in the negotiations as
witnesses. These aliens, the Tae-Run, had shown up at the edge of the solar system eight days previously.
The initial panic over first contact with an alien species calmed as the Tae-Run showed no aggressive
tendencies. Their leaders explained that they were on a peaceful mission; they were a religious group that
had undertaken this journey to a new world where they would be free to practice their beliefs. They
emphasized that they were a group of exiles and explorers, not a conquering army. Military observers
had been sent to examine their ships while diplomats and government dignitaries met with the Tae-Run
Council. Reports highlighted both with their level of technological sophistication as well as the depth of
their religious belief.
Exiles and explorers though they may be, the Tae-Run captain did not seem inclined to accept the
official’s words. Shun’s brow creased into a frown. Born and bred a naval officer, the cadet could sense
a change in the wind. There was a faint whirr as the alien’s mechanical eye refocused, skin pulling
around it strangely as the creature grimaced. Its reply was broken Common-tongue, with strange,
flattened inflections, but it was comprehensible - an impressive feat after eight days of contact. “We will
not be content with this. We have come a long way to find an inhabitable planet. There is no place for us
on the world we left.”
The official rubbed his forehead, a grimace of his own entering into his expression. “Apologies,
Captain. However, our government is not willing to cede such a large territory, cherished by so many of
our citizens, to an alien power.” He shook his head. “The amount of land you have requested would
necessitate the relocation of hundreds of thousands of our citizens. I’m afraid it would be impossible,
especially in the seven days that you specify.”
The captain snorted impressively, despite by-and-large not having a nose. Tae-Run all had those
strange, flat faces, with only a slight protrusion and a pair of holes for nostrils. That was, of course,
where they hadn’t entirely replaced their faces with metal. The Tae-Run captain looked to one side, eyes
narrowing as he glanced at his aide. Shun had heard rumors about the Tae-Run having some kind of
brain implant that gave them a strange sort of hive mind. They did have an eerie aversion to use of the
singular pronoun…Shun suppressed a shudder and had to force himself not to stare at chromed foreheads
as the Tae-Run captain spoke once more. “Your apologies are not enough. We demand more than your
protestestations of impossibilities.”
“Perhaps a compromise could be reached?” The official looked desperate. Shun couldn’t help
but feel a pang of sympathy. Being the bearer of bad news was never an enviable position. “Perhaps a
smaller area, a longer time table for relocation, or reparations for those forced out? Or perhaps
concessions for some to remain, especially in remote areas…?”
“No.” A strange fervor burned in the Tae-Run’s eye. “Our gods guided us to this planet. Our
gods promised us this land. Your need for compromises and concessions is irrelevant.” Its voice went
even flatter, eye burning, the mechanical replacement set in its other eye socket whirring in an attempt to
keep up with its mate in something it had apparently not been designed to duplicate. “This land has been
promised. You will yield it to us.” The captain’s grin turned into a rictus, a creaking of stressed metal as
cables tightened in its arms. “You can cooperate, or our current peace will be exchanged for a new one.
That may not be a peace you like so well.”
 Three days later, Shun set his tray down at the mess. Say what you would about most mess halls,
but here they treated future officers well. Graduation was only a few days away, so soon enough the
cadets they were serving now would be their bosses. Shun grinned to himself, spooning up some of the
protein mash on his tray. A few more days, and he’d be shipping out, along with the rest of his class.
“Did you hear?” K’tan set his own tray down on the table, settling down onto a stool and
scooting it in. “The Tae-Run violated their flag of truce. They attacked the outer colonies.”
Shun blinked, an expression of disbelief that was mirrored around the table. “What? No, that’s
got to be just some insane rumor.”
“It’s all over the pict-network. The outer colonies were wiped out by Tae-Run ships.”
“Are they sure?” Another cadet at the table piped up.
“Sure as they can be.” K’tan seemed to be the authority on the subject. “They picked it up on
long-range scans. The colonies could barely get out a distress call before the Tae-Run flattened ‘em.” He
took a big spoonful of his stew, savoring a chunk of meat it in before continuing. “Tae-Run’ve got some
faster-than-light starship drive, let ‘em hit the place and be gone before a proper defense could be raised.
The Navy got there and the colonies had already been flattened.”
The table went quiet, all the cadets around trying to absorb this. “And the Exploratory Fleet?”
Shun finally had to ask. “What about them?”
“They were out on the outer reaches of the system.” K’tan shook his head. “Haven’t heard from
them since before the colonies were hit. The Tae-Run probably took them down too.”

“Eyes front, Ensign Shun!”

Shun grimaced as Captain Decker caught him drifting. Shun’s eyes traced over his display
monitor, refocused on his task. Debris was spread out in space in front of the ship, the shattered remnants
of several colony stations.
“Situation report, Ensign?”
Shun shook his head, looking back over his shoulder at the Captain. “The colonies have been
annihilated, sir.” He grimaced again, his brow furrowing as he looked back at his display. “There’s
nothing on the infrared scans, no signs of life.” Shun punched a few keys, enhancing the view on his
screen and squinted at the results. “I have a few residual FTL drive readings. Looks like another Tae-
Run hit and run, but they’re long gone by now.”
Decker cursed fluently under his breath. Shun could sympathize; they all felt the same sense of
futility. In an even fight, the Planetary Defense Navy was an even match for the Tae-Run, but the bastard
aliens made sure it was never a fair fight. They were picking off the colonies one by one, working their
way slowly towards the center of the system. The Navy was stretched far too thin to protect all of the
colonies, and with their faster-than-light technology the Tae-Run could strike and be away before any
ship could respond to distress signals.
It was like fighting against ghosts…

“Captain, I’m picking up multiple FTL energy readings at the edge of the defense perimeter.
Tae-Run ships are closing in on our position.” Shun snapped out of his reverie, blinking as he returned to
the present. Red blooms of light formed and spread on the main viewscreen above the curve of the planet
below, showing the positions of inbound Tae-Run ships, creating a wake ahead of them where they would
soon re-emerge in realspace. Commander Yuuki, his second-in-command, looked up at him, a wry
expression on her face. She enjoyed catching him off-guard, it seemed. “Closing rapidly, at that. They’ll
be on us in a few minutes.”
“Acknowledged.” Shun nodded to himself, surveying his bridge crew as they made the final
preparations. They were dedicated, hard-working, and would not fail at this critical hour. The captain
allowed himself a small smile. No matter what the future held, he was proud to have served with them.
“Hann, move to intercept.”
 “Aye, Sir.” The pilot smiled to herself, her confident hands gliding over the controls, and again
Shun felt the gentle pressure of inertia as they moved forward once more.
“Ensign, message to the Admiral. Our compliments, and we are advancing as per his orders.”
Temmer nodded, his dexterous, long-fingered hands working rapidly over his console. “Yes,
Captain. It’s done.”
“Good.” Shun turned aside, looking down to the woman at the tactical console. “Commander
Yuuki, ready all weapons. Full power to all laser batteries, prime torpedoes.”
“Aye, Sir.” Yuuki’s hands flickered over her console, like a musician at their instrument, and a
matter of moments later, she nodded. “Done. All weapons are ready to fire at your word.”
“Very good.” Shun turned to the other side. “Lieutenant Braun, sound general quarters.”
“Yes sir!” The bulky security officer turned aside, speaking calmly into the ship’s comm.
Shun turned back to look at the viewscreen at the front of the bridge as it flickered, beginning to
show enhanced views of Tae-Run ships disengaging their FTL drives and dropping back out of wherever
it was that the laws of physics didn’t apply. Shun’s eyes narrowed as he watched the ships fall into
formation. You could say many things about the Tae-Run, but despite not truly being a military
organization, they did have a good grasp of basic tactics.
The holographic tactical display showed the rest of the fleet slowly advancing alongside the
Spear, shifting formation to the offensive. They were still too far distant for most of the focused-beam
weapons to maintain cohesion, but a few of the heavier ships on either side were firing spreads of
torpedoes. For lack of any other targets in range, the beam weapons on both sides were easily picking off
the torpedoes as they approached. One missile managed to slip through and exploded in the midst of the
Tae-Run formation, knocking several ships aside. Then a Tae-Run torpedo detonated among the Navy
ships, crippling one and sending it tumbling through space.
The battle rose to a fever pitch as the Defense Navy fleet reached the Tae-Run. It was too close
on both sides for missiles to remain effective; both friend and foe would be caught in the blast and any
shrapnel resulting from such an explosion would be deadly at such short ranges. Lasers stabbed through
the darkness of space and sliced into armor plating. The tightly focused beams drew lines through hulls,
cutting through like blowtorches. Any pieces of other ships that were cut off would be either be large
enough to avoid or too small to do significant damage.
Shun growled beneath his breath, inertial dampeners fighting to compensate for the massive pulls
of g-forces. He felt the ship shudder beneath multiple impacts, wincing as the Spear rocked from side to
side. He heard the ship’s weapons firing, the subtle vibrations translating through his seat. Readouts
flickered on various officers’ screens, but they were too far away for Shun to read. All was chaos on the
viewscreen, the strobing light and darkness nearly too painful to look at.
And then they were clear, through the line of Tae-Run ships and out the other side into the quiet
blackness of space. The Spear was still vibrating all around them and the engines had picked up a nasty-
sounding whine, though evidently they had come through in (mostly) one piece. “Bridge crew, status!”
“Laser Batteries two, eight, and nine aren’t responding, Captain!” Yuuki grimaced, looking over
the weapon readouts as she continued, “One, three, four, and seven have been damaged and are operating
at about sixty percent effectiveness.”
“Engines have sustained several direct hits, but seem to be holding well enough,” Hann reported
from her station. “We’ve got a slow leak in one of the fuel tanks, so thank whatever god you believe in
that the laser fire didn’t score a direct hit there. If one shot had, you’d be talking with that god in person
now.”
“Enough commentary, Hann!” Shun cursed softly, though it truly could have been far worse.
“Temmer, what’s the status of the rest of the fleet?”
“Most of them seem to be about in the same shape that we are, Captain.” His hands flickered
rapidly over the controls. “We lost about twenty-five percent of all Navy vessels in that opening
exchange.” Temmer frowned at his communications console. “About fifteen percent of the Tae-Run
vessels were crippled or destroyed.”
 Shun cursed under his breath. “Turn us around, Hann. We’re making another pass at them.” He
looked over his shoulder to Jayne. “Get any available crew onto repairs. See if you can get that leak
patched up, then move to any other repairs that need to be done.”
“Aye, Captain!” came both replies. The security officer strode quickly from the bridge, speaking
quickly into his personal communicator. Meanwhile, Hann was wrenching the ship around into a tight
turn and punching the engines up to full burn.
From this distance it was easy to see the carnage left behind where the fleets collided. Several
ships had run into each other, leaving both vessels tumbling away through space, crumpled together so
hard that it was impossible to identify individual ships in the mangled wreckage. Others had been
intentionally rammed by Tae-Run ships attempting to send across boarders. Still more ships spiraled
away, momentum carrying them far from the battle when systems were too badly damaged to reverse the
acceleration. However, the number of Tae-Run attackers still functional was daunting when compared
with the number of operational naval vessels.
The Spear sped like its namesake back toward the Tae-Run lines, Shun searching for targets. He
tapped a few buttons on the arm of his chair, consulting the small viewscreen there, and then looked to
Hann. “Pilot, take us on an attack run to that ship, half speed.” On the main viewscreen, a glowing
highlight popped up around a Tae-Run ship that was only half-turned back toward them, and the Spear
altered course, slowing down as it approached.
Broadside to the enemy ship, Yuuki tightened her hands on the controls and the Spear struck.
The front laser batteries opened up, impacting the wallowing ship amid sporadic return fire from the Tae-
Run vessel’s lateral weapons. Precision shots crippled the Tae-Run’s engines, further blasts piercing hull
armor and igniting fuel cells. The ship tore itself apart from within, flashes of explosions and brief flames
visible as the rear half of the alien ship disintegrated, the mostly-intact front half propelled forward by the
explosion. Purely by luck, the projectile created by the remains of the destroyed ship clipped another
Tae-Run vessel as it careened away, spinning the mostly-intact vessel off course and causing serious
damage. An impromptu cheer went up in the Spear, both in the bridge itself and over the comms.
The cheering proved premature as the ship was rocked by a massive impact, sending any standing
bridge crew tumbling to the floor and nearly unseating Shun and other seated crew members as well.
Recovering quickly, Shun straightened in his seat. “Status report! What hit us?”
Yuuki was already pulling herself back in front of her console. “The damned Tae-Run rammed
us! All starboard batteries are offline! They’ve got us good, and they’re sending across boarders, level
eight, starboard side!”
“Oh, those sons of fornicating…” Shun trailed off into incoherent curses. “Hann, break free!”
“Engines aren’t responding, Captain! They’re still online, at least, but we aren’t going to get
anywhere with this massive alien freak on us.”
“Damn them all,” Shun growled under his breath, then picked up his communicator as he strode
toward the door. “Yuuki, you have the bridge. No alien techno-freak is going to take this ship if I have
anything to stay about it.” As he left, he heard Yuuki confidently issuing orders. She was a competent
leader, if a bit inexperienced, and he trusted her to lead the ship in his absence. He’d likely get a
reprimand for this later, but the Spear of Earth was his ship and he would be damned if he sat back in the
bridge while his crewmen fought for her.
He activated his communicator as he strode through the corridors toward where the Tae-Run ship
had penetrated. “Jayne. The Tae-Run bastards have rammed us, and are sending across boarders.
They’ve hit roughly midship on the starboard side, level eight. Divert any available crew from repairs to
defense, get any weapons you deem necessary from the lockers, and I’ll be with you shortly.”
Shun could swear he heard the security officer’s grin over the comm. “Aye, sir. I’ll try to save a
few for you when you get here. So hurry down, or I’ll get impatient and leave you less.”
Shun felt an answering thrill of bloodthirsty anticipation as he hurried to the lift. Jayne Braun
always seemed to be spoiling for a fight. It made him valuable as a security officer, though Shun might
have to stop him from charging all the way onto the Tae-Run ship.
 The lift hissed down to level eight, then disgorged its cargo. Shun blinked, raising his nose and
sniffing the air. Scenting the harsh, burned scent of ozone hovering in the air, he hurried along the
corridors of the ship towards where the Tae-run vessel had hit, stopping along the way to access a
weapons cache and pulling out both a pistol and a rifle, attaching the pistol’s holster to his belt while
picking up the trail towards the breach. As he approached, the sounds of weapons fire guided him even
more accurately to the site of the battle.
He rounded one last corner and he was there. Armed Tae-Run boarders came through the tunnel
that they’d punched through the hull of the Spear. Crewmen took shelter behind rubble, finding bends
and twists in the corridor to protect them from Tae-Run weapons fire while their own weapons blazed
away. The Tae-Run attacked as a single mass, their assault uncanny in its coordination. They filed into
the Spear’s hallways, pushing their way relentlessly inwards, with no regard for the bodies they climbed
over.
Shun spotted Braun through the haze of smoldering debris. “Jayne! Fall back to the next bend in
the hallway! We’ll take as many of these bastards as we can from there!”
“Aye, Captain! Glad to see you here, by the way!” Jayne snapped off a shot, blasting through a
Tae-Run’s head and splattering those following with bits of metal and alien ichors. “I wasn’t sure how
many more of these I’d be able to leave for you.” The security officer’s red armor was singed in several
places, a chip flying off from a glancing hit as the man fell back to Shun’s position.
Shun considered the approaching aliens with his eyes narrowed. They were relentless, attacking
one after another with seemingly no regard for their own lives. The captain shouldered his rifle, taking
aim and opening fire. “Fucking bastards, get the HELL off MY ship!”

The battle for the ship dragged on for nearly thirty minutes. By that time, ammunition stocks
were running severely low, and fully a third of the surviving crewmen were injured in one way or
another. The Tae-Run had fought their way deep into the ship, only stopped by a last-ditch defense raised
in a convergence of corridors. Lieutenant Braun had been wounded twice, the second time seriously
enough to necessitate his removal to the rear. Shun had also been wounded in the arm, though he’d
stayed on the line through to the finish. The rifle he’d been using was ruined, the barrel shot clean off by
a Tae-Run weapons blast, and his pistol’s barrel was nearly reduced to slag from the heat of its discharge.
The price had been high, but the ship was secure.
With the assault pushed back, crewmen set charges and blasted the entangled boarding tunnel off
to release the Spear from its Tae-Run counterpart. Free once more, Yuuki turned the ship back into the
battle at large as the Tae-Run vessel lost the fight against gravity and tumbled into the ocean below. Shun
returned to the bridge as soon as a corpsman saw to his arm, though by that time the battle was largely
over. Nearly two thirds of the Planetary Defense Fleet was left in ruin, tumbling through space, and no
vessel had escaped unscathed, but the Tae-Run were completely wiped out. There had been no
suggestion of surrender; with conviction in their strange gods the Tae-Run had fought to the death in all
cases.
Lieutenant Braun, despite his wounds, insisted on commanding the cleanup crews throughout the
Spear of Earth. From his bed in the medical bay, he arranged a comm node to connect with all crewmen
involved with repairs, medical treatment for the wounded overflowing the medbay, taking care of fallen
crew members, and disposing of dead Tae-Run.
For a while, even Shun was under the Security Officer’s command. His wound seen to, the
captain joined the crews on level eight. The tunnel had been blown; when they had a chance the remains
would be removed entirely and the hull repaired, but for now crew members in vacuum suits had to work
on the outside to place a panel over the hole so that the deck could be repressurized. Once that had been
completed, the bodies which remained after the explosive decompression could be taken care of: the dead
crew members laid out individually in state, the Tae-Run dead (any that were found wounded were
executed on the spot) piled to one side.
Shun grimaced as he helped another crew member haul a dead Tae-Run to one side. With his
wounded arm, he needed help to shift the bodies. Perhaps it was due to the cybernetics implanted
throughout their bodies, but the Tae-Run dead seemed unnaturally heavy. This one had lost its armored
helmet at some point of the fight, and Shun was repulsed (and not for the first time) by how the aliens
looked even without any visible implants. Flat faces, with only a slight bulge and two holes for the nose.
Their mouths just seemed too narrow as well, their lips almost comically large. Shun snorted softly,
pulling back the alien’s lips, revealing flat teeth, with a pair of small, unpronounced canines on both
upper and lower jaw. The skin, pale to begin with, was paler now in death, an unhealthy, maggot white.
Shun remembered from an examination that the Tae-Run’s nakedness didn’t extend only to their face; for
the most part, excepting a small patch on each one’s head, their skin was entirely devoid of fur, unlike
Shun’s own thick, luxurious coat.
The crewman helping Shun haul the heavy Tae-Run to the pile of alien corpses snorted in
derision at the mounded heaps of the enemy dead. “Idiots for starting this war in the first place. Look
where they are now.” Shun nodded slightly in agreement, regarding the dead as well. By this point, it
was difficult to distinguish what bits of metal in their bodies were shrapnel and what were their implants.
“Guess their techno-gods must have deserted them.”
Shun again nodded his agreement, sitting down and bracing his back against the wall of the
corridor a bit away from the stench of alien dead. Just looking at the crewman made Shun cringe slightly;
his tail had been shot off, and looking at the foot-long stump made Shun’s own tail curl in sympathy.
“Techno-gods or no, they’re done trying to take our planet. Our home is safe again.” A grin spread
across his muzzle, baring his own pointed, perfectly white teeth. “I think it was just that the sense of
irony was too good for whatever deity is up there to pass up. I hear that they used to call themselves
‘humans’ before they began their journey out among the stars.” The snort of derision through his feline
muzzle echoed the crewman’s own. “Nothing humane about what they were doing.” Shun pulled his
lunch out of the bag at his side and offered some to his companion. Through an observation port, the sun
could be seen rising over the curvature of planet Leois below. It was going to be a beautiful day.