—————————☆—————————

In the cold Equestrian night, the co-ruler of this mystic land began her duty.

As the moon was hoisted like a flag over the giant country, she smiled at her handiwork. The pull of countless dreams beckoned her to the dreamscape, the one true dream walker, master of the dimension, answered the call.

The fantasies of ponies were supervised by the all-powerful alicorn, who, in all her wisdom, tamed and became one with her magical domain. A deity of such capability as herself certainly knows in totality the desires of resting subjects.

Like the back of her hand as the saying went.

Tonight, all she sensed in the realm was anticipation, anxiety, and dread. Luna could not comprehend why. What was the matter, why in every dream she intervened in had such draining creatures confront her? Blue eyes and black souls of avarice and starvation, this is what terrorized her people in their slumber…

Princess Luna darted from door to door, kicking the entrances down, restoring peace of mind to countless beings. Her magical talents were no match for the black tide that overcame thousands though, all efforts to stem the tide proved fruitless. It was simply not enough, what felt like unlimited nightmares took hold and manifested, spawning every moment. The remembrance of the last time an event such as the one she found herself in now sent a shudder through her spine. Her horn glowed a dark blue as she manually expelled every last nightmare in view.

The consequences of this would affect her in the most unexpected of ways, however.

With exhaustion setting in, she exited her realm, white flashes blinding her temporarily, A hasty retreat led to a harsh fall from the sky onto her beloved balcony.

“Umph~”

The pain was nothing she hadn't endured in her lifetimes. All damage thankfully was to her arm rather than the beloved platform. If she were her sister's weight, that outcome would've been different. Luna restored her scraped form to its sleek and delicate appearance. The night had only just been bestowed upon her land. She reasoned that she could finish her duty early and retire, with the silk confines inviting the tired body, temptation’s vice grip had taken hold of her. That’s what she would do. Luna marched with her mind in the clouds, how could such a dimension exhaust so thoroughly, kill her desire to push through, and force her to expend vast energy? Why today? She needed to get to the bottom of this situation… and her head pushed it to the back, a new existential matter presented itself.

Luna had to investigate why the heavens had changed…

A single shimmering star in her sky caught her attention. But then the sky glowed, and for the first time, a far-off, azure and lilac galaxy was visible to Luna. It flickered, snatching the attention of the princess. Although it wasn't encompassing the sky fully, its light shined down even upon the night sky of Equestria. There was no denying something was going on. Luna craned her neck, and, like she had been trapped in a daze, she returned to the edge.

The view was so magnificent that she didn’t even register the tears that hit the floor beneath her as she took in every last detail. She felt so little. She was so humble. The violet galaxy's matter glistened for some time and then stopped, seemingly adjusting itself to... her? She did not know but she did realize that once her ponies saw it, they would be blown away with her ‘handiwork’, just as their princess would be for all eternity. Just as all should be. A pure white spec formed in her pupils appearing natural considering she was looking at blinking stars in the depths of the void. Soon the twinkle expanded until it encompassed one eye and then the other and radiated white hot moonlight.

‘Who dare manipulate… me!’ Luna’s mind screamed as her body moved without her consent.

‘My opposition is vain?!’

Suddenly her body ascended. Relaxation overcame her as the black curtain descended upon her sight, and she was teleported beyond her world. Before total awareness was lost, she was gifted the ability to swing herself right… far right, to get a glimpse at her new surroundings. Her new environment was space itself. All Luna could manage was a split-second view of her planet, unable to shift at all. The alicorn was whipped forward into the previous position once again, an unknown force quickly crushing her attempts past the set limit. Her position now remained the same as the moment the journey began; her chest stuck out, her arms floating at the sides, and her legs extended below. All muscles in the mighty body relaxed as magic shocked her into full consciousness. Now was the first case since she was banished in which she was truly helpless.

Luna accelerated through the void, barreling through space, gazing forward as she was launched by whatever power at what had to be faster than light itself. She entered a tunnel with light and lines of the cosmos. Any fear Luna harbored was buried underneath wonder and contentment, and the ambient noise.

The journey came to an end an hour later, she had lost consciousness after entering that peaceful corridor. She rose to her feet once again and took in what was around her. It seemed as though she was brought to some sort of command center too advanced for her to fully comprehend, but unmistakably similar in structure to those her nation’s ship companies built. The bluish glass in front of the ship showed the unmistakable inky void. None of the inhabitants seemed to notice her, and all their upper bodies were blurred from the princess’s sight. Luna tried to touch what looked like the leader, but it was futile. The only conclusion she could come to is that she was turned into a ghost, an observer. When she would be returned to her world, she did not know.

But pleasant experiences, new beings, and the unknown itself would not intimidate Luna. In her day she had gone to war, as a mere filly she ran the harshest of gauntlets Equestria had ever been called upon to complete. The mare of the night turned Dark Lady of the Cosmos, would watch this… whatever, unfold.

As a neighboring black contraption, and then the very one she was housed within exploded, she was teleported to a new one. Luna knew nothing of what was happening in this foreign domain, but each time she was thrown from one bridge to the next, she ran up to the windows without a sound of hers catching the attention of the beings beside her. Even as she tripped and fell cheek first and ass up in a dash to the next large window, nobody caught wind of her presence. All next to her were oblivious that they were being watched.

As if a higher power was caring for her, a notebook and orange stick, black-tipped and pink topped, appeared in front of her. She tilted her head, a natural response for her species. The one in control over her must’ve found this adorable, as the pencil slowly transformed into a quill, and repeated this pattern for what felt like minutes. Luna took the hint, needing every second. Revealed as a utensil, the pair was gently floated in front of her eyes, Luna grasped the two objects in her blue aura, and began chronicling the events that led to the present. She took a liking to this orange thing and made a side note to keep this trusty object.

‘Oh how would young Sparkle love to see this, she wouldn't be able to contain herself.’ Luna imagined her freaking out over such a view of the stars.

Because whatever force got the bright idea, the young princess of friendship plopped down beside her perplexed elder. The girl was in a black pair of tights, a white shirt, and a black oversized coat with a symbol in perfect Equish saying; ‘Turra C. Company’.

“Princess Luna… where am I?” Twilight began her process of awakening. Picking up her head from the hospitable resting place of the cold floor, her groggy ass jolted awake as she looked up and observed the spaceship.

She got to her feet immediately upon the revelation, grabbing the neatly organized and perfectly new notebook from the princess’s magical grasp.

Luna rolled her eyes and prepared for the cute annoyance and numerous questions that were inevitable. It took a short thirty seconds for Twilight to intrude throughout the chronicle of the night lady, who was surprisingly patient with the girl.

Finally, as the purple pony stopped talking, letting another squee exit her mouth, she took notice of her attire, the masculine scent, and the huge arm sleeves enveloping her hands.

The odor reached Luna’s nose.

“So, dear, whom in my sister's name were you… studying at this hour with?” Luna smirked and giggled like a gossiping filly.

“Oh~uhm no-no-no this is NOT what your thinking princess Luna, I CAN explain perfectly what has h-happened y-you see-” Twilight struggled to articulate while trying to conceal her crimson cheeks in the onyx sleeves. She fell to the floor as Luna stepped towards her. And then she caught another whiff, making her heart rate soar, blood in her face permeated like wildfire.

“I-I was only uh-sleeping and I-I-I was teleported here by something or someone and I couldn't-” The purple mess continued her plea, oblivious to the fact she was being toyed with.

“I jest, Miss Sparkle. Please, elaborate on why you have such a delectable auroma?” Luna requested with a not-so-small chuckle. She had enough fun for the moment, teasing the bookworm was too much to handle, she let out another laugh as she tried to regain her royal stature.

“A-As told you was just s-s-sleeping and suddenly this happened, I don't know why or how but…” Twilight’s attention was diverted, she deliberated on just how she would get the most out of this. She would first bug the hell out of her ruler, again, then observe the changing colors in the space that were spaceships of all things.

Her annoyed diarch informed and elaborated for what felt like hours. The pair finally stopped talking upon a stern voice reaching their ears. Both heads rotated around to see the blurred bipedal being who was just referred to as… callsign Osiris. He was talking to other crewmembers, some unmistakably female, and some male. Thankfully, nobody could see the two watching ponies even though they stood right in front of the supposed leader.

“Of course!” Gears in Twilight’s head turned and seemingly locked into place right after, she turned to face her experienced companion. “Princess this is a military ship… this is an advanced military spaceship! The first ever seen in the history of our nation!! A!… A warsh-”

The alicorn stopped dead in her tracks, her happy cheer evaporated and she woke up to reality. A thousand-yard stare immediately plastered over her once-beaming face.

“Get ahold of yourself Twilight, we will find a way back and this will not be our final outing!” Luna spoke plainly to calm her sister’s protege. It worked somewhat, leading to a nod from the pony.

A new set of a notepad and orange utensil appeared and floated before the purple pony before she reached it with her magical powers.

Judging by the explosions… the pair had been thrust into battle…

—————————☆—————————

Galaxy: MLD-RG

Planet: RTH-IX

Year: 5006

”The ninth planet remembers the darkest the darkest of days.”

“When the rings of the world were laced… with fire.”

“And the ultimate sacrifice was made, in flesh… and steel.”

In the ancient annals of the cosmos, there existed a species of unparalleled ambition and conquest. They rose from obscurity to dominance, expanding their reach across galaxies, enslaving worlds, and bending lesser beings to their will. Their empire cast a shadow over half the universe, their power unmatched and their cruelty unforgiving.

But pride precedes the fall, and their insatiable hunger for dominion led them to challenge a formidable coalition of united forces. A massive war erupted, engulfing star systems and shattering planets in its wake. The once invincible species found themselves outmatched, their armies decimated, their dominion crumbling.

This is one such tale, well after the the collapse had begun.

The peaceful masters of this world before the time of man had been damned to be remembered by none but the great watcher.

The Naljuc Imperium was on the verge of triumph over this world, a small win in their end times, the slaughter of this planet’s meek populace was fated to be swift and decisive… and then man, the so-called “kingslayer,” finally arrived to kick the ass of all Naljuc here.

The ships of the young interstellar “Afrika” arrived at the last moment. Like a divine wind, swept the Nal’ fleets out, even if it was for nothing.

They could not protect this once beautiful world long enough for the survivors to recover. The 'Afrikans' left before taking the derelict starship, leaving it to be fought over by their descendants.

Nal's power in this galaxy died with this loss. Devastated, solitary, destined to be forever more the fallen 'Lords of the Universe', a forgotten species. At least to the stars, the eternal dominators were reduced to inevitable oblivion.

But hope dies last, and Nal', who have concealed their strength, have learned from their hubris, and he allows all to exude it of their own volition.

Their fantasy shall meet reality. Today the resurgent race shall deliver a blow to all of their intrepid nations. They are here to reclaim these stars. The will of the watcher will not be denied again by this, youthful, arrogant, deplorable, man.

Today, Nal’ attacks, determined never again to lose their vice grip on the universe-

-And their journey to certain victory, their counteroffensive, starts in this dead galaxy, in this dead world...

—————————☆—————————

“This is Osiris to any available ships: the hyper jammer is down, regroup at the derelict until reinforcements arrive.”

“Copy Osiris, Sinai is in position.”

“Grit is going eighty percent-what’s the E.T.A on those reinforcements?”

“We’re going as fast as we can, just a few more jumps.” came the answer from the Umbru himself, the Naljuc Remnant had come out in force, and he was retaliating with an armada of battlecarriers, fast dreadnoughts, and battlecruisers.

“Copy that Nemesis, get here as quick as possible.”

The assembled fleet had rendezvoused along and past the Andromeda galaxy’s hyperspace gateways over the past twenty-two hours. Fleet Admiral Luti Umbru had coordinated the Russian ”Polar” Task Force’s regrouping effort and integrated it into the now joint fleet.

Upon command of Kenyatta and by extension the entire fleet being transferred directly to Micah, the armada is now less than ten minutes away from their rally point. Just before the currently most contested battleground in centuries. Afro-Russian forces had already suffered tens of thousands of deaths in this galaxy in the initial battles alone. Joint Task Forces in stalemated battles have lost hundreds of escort-sized ships already to the resurgent alien power.

“Riot, Polar, activate Class Zero ‘dee-ayes’. Hammer and Nemesis need to increase speed.” McNeal ordered the three-hundred-strong corps of escort ships and the Russian flagship Battlecruiser “Amur” to push their engines further into overdrive. The measures were to be taken to reinforce Battlecruiser “Sinai” and her heavy support flotilla before enemy reinforcements obliterated them. The address he delivered the days before was fresh in the minds of all men and women about to engage in this gunfight.

“Da, commander.” “Polar” acknowledged. Amur, the ship so powerful that it was to be referred to as he, temporarily diverted energy from his superlaser arrays. The mighty battlewagon’s exterior was engulfed in burgundy as celestial power projected from his Siberian generators and was reintegrated into the system.

After falling back to the Andromeda Galactic Sector after moderate damage, Polar’s fleet was integrated into the combined armada and sent forward in the counteroffensive of today.

At over one thousand kilometers in length, three-hundred fifty in beam, the rhombus-shaped Russian starship was the third most lethal weapon in the combined fleet, it bristling with arrays of turbolasers, cobalt missiles, and thermobaric artillery. The ship was a credible threat to even Titan vessels that dwarfed him in size ten-to-one. The only vulnerabilities were a lack of point defense and a small Starfighter compliment, but those were compensated for brilliantly today by his sister ships.

The Russian bear roars into the sixth millennium stronger than ever.

And so the four callsigns continued their advance, through the gate and into hell.

The communications array in the heart of 'Republic' lit up. The signal operators frantically calibrated systems to match the electronic warfare the enemy was employing against all forces in the galactic sector, all the while the other ships did the same thing. Their fleet was entering the battlespace, and as they were mere minutes from entering the holding pattern at the MLX-SD Hypergate, the inevitable skirmishes that began with Osiris and his callsigns near the derelict warship against hostile forces would surely require every last ship.

"The Naval Infantry inside the derelict," Micah began, his voice gaining the attention of a female marine liaison, "how long until they get that ship powered up so we can wrap this up?" He asked with his arms crossed, looking out the paneled window, though deep inside he knew what was probably about to go down: Enemy forces were likely already on the verge of ambushing the escorting armada there, and for now, there was nothing they could do but sit there or fall back to the gate. If the ships were routed, over a thousand men would be stranded, and certainly captured within the confines of the massive ship if an immediate Priority One Raid failed to materialize.

"They say within two hours they will be finished rearranging the mainframe," the woman started relaying her assessment, "when they finish, all we shall need is a capital ship to power up its engines and we can abandon the world, once and for all." As she finished her report staring in his direction, chatter all around the two slightly decreased. As always, the senses of McNeal were sharp enough to notice something, he couldn't help but feel this woman was hiding something from him. Not a nefarious, evil kind of thing, but she had more to say, from her heart. He debated telling the comparatively small six-foot-three-inch woman to speak her mind but decided to simply lighten up his aura by smiling and relaxing his face somewhat while looking outside, something everyone in the room subconsciously noticed, something he only did because of this woman whom he treated like a daughter. He thought he might know what she deep down wished to say, but he would allow her, her time in the spotlight.

"High Marshall, sir... p-permission to speak freely?" She spoke up, finally dismissing her fear.

"Sure, we have time" Micah stared down at her with a calm expression, matching her uneasiness with his stoic, relaxing calmness. Micah refused to embarrass her in front of both their peers. He easily molded the situation to their benefit, his body facing midway between her and the bridge's window. Yellow and red lights occasionally streaked by the fleet, illuminating the somewhat dark environment of the bridge. This made it known they were passing through or near a black hole something traveling sailors enjoy seeing, as their ships are more than capable of resisting them.

"The planet... it is the same one that had a peaceful, nearly interstellar race, and reports showed an African fleet many years ago stumbled on it, and protected them.” This woman spoke with a hint of assertiveness, she was definitely part of the mission to help these people many thousands of years ago, sticking up for them, it was a sight to behold. An African, no, human woman presenting her case to her superior official.

An exemplary Naval Infantry liaison indeed.

“I… recommend,” she froze for a good second, collecting herself as she shot a glance to make sure her leader wasn’t about to shoot her down. He didn’t. “-we should try to preserve the world and see if there are any survivors. Researchers and diplomats were introduced to a host of prophecy their true homeworld, their wider race allegedly advanced enough to become a friend of ours ... sir!" She got her shit together, getting right towards the end.

It took no time at all for Micah to articulate his answer.

“If we are able, we shall attempt to re-establish diplomatic ties.” Micah saw the practical side of this arrangement, and as a leader should, he acknowledged the desire of his species to befriend. “I guarantee we will not employ any permanently hazardous materiel in their space, at least, less than what we can’t mop up.” Micah finished his statement looking her in the eye and nodding.

A smile appeared as the liaison bowed her head, bending her knees a tad bit. A small ‘yes sir’ coming from her lips as she returned to her colleagues.

Micah noticed his black coat had disappeared. ‘Apparently I misplaced it, eh,’ he reasoned that it didn’t matter anyway. Always can grab another one.

And so all continued towards his task force’s journeys true beginning. Just as things were heating back up with Osiris.

"Stealth corvette uncloaking at ninety." Grit, onboard one of the Strategic Command Cruisers relayed the message received from the sensory deck onboard his ship.

"Grit, that's your primary." Osiris confirmed on comlink. After which he faced about, scanning the deck for an Ensign, his naval bridge bustling with activity for the past hour as reinforcements were inbound. A blue patch revealed his target's role as a naval intelligence operator, just what he needed.

"Copy, engaging.” Grit affirmed with voices of gunnery officers, fire directors, and crewmen reaching the mic. Before he even finished confirming the order, heavy cobalt missiles erupted from their launching bays aboard Cruiser A.F.S 'Oran', blazing towards their assigned targets at high-hypersonic speeds. Swarms of drones connected perfectly orbit the relatively exposed battlecruiser to prevent hidden enemies from infiltrating. Sinai was basking in the rays of a star peering over the planet, her red-tipped gun barrels and turbolaser arrays rotating to cover all three hundred and sixty degrees of the battlespace, preparing her systems for imminent confrontation. All veterans of the previous clashes knew what happened after enemy stealth units uncloaked.

By now the fleet had taken up an arrowhead battle formation along the expected direction of enemy attack; the front of the derelict ship and in the firing range of the friendly battlecruiser. Legions of warships from corvettes to cruisers, fleet interceptors, attack bombers and drones sit in wait, in preparation for what they could not hope to predict.

They could only hope for a chance.

"Ensign, relay the update; Naljuc battlefleets are in our area of operations, derel-“ he couldn’t finish his message, as he turned around suddenly.

The radio to his rear crackled to life, the concerned voice of Sinai came through.

“Heads up, he’s lit a hyper!” Grit was able to transmit the details shakily before a second event quickly shut him up.

Osiris’ heart dropped like never before. He nearly cursed like his subordinates all around him, but after a mere gasp, he managed to gather himself. The Ensign had since returned to his station, starting to coordinate the fleets response to the sudden takeover attempt of the system. His superior needed no briefing on what was about to unfold, and what he should relay to the fleet.

“New Contacts; hostile capital ships inbound.” The leader of the fleet spoke into the mic, fearless in the face of his likely demise. “All ships, focus fire on that Titan-” Osiris didn’t elaborate to his subordinates more than that, all knew damn well what was necessary for survival.

“Understood, missiles away.” Grit confirmed through his bated breath. Drones, fighters, groups of frigates and entire squadrons of destroyers danced in battle with the golden ships of the enemy, all covered in the red starlight, peering over the ninth planet. It was a fight the Africans did not shy away from, not yet. A few seconds later, the still regenerating shields of the enemy super ship that was dominant enough to take on the massive King Menelik, collapsed under thermonuclear bombardment. All along the titans superstructure, yellow radiation residue and green flame spread, forcing the flagship to whip around slowly, and withdrawal into hyperspace

“Target is neutralized, Grit Formation is pressing assault on enemy supercarrier designated zero-one!” The gunmetal gray, rhombus shaped light cruisers, in tandem with Grits own strategic cruiser approached the opposition flagship, over half the size of its retreating colleague.

“All ships of the squadron-” A boom made all crews shutter as another cruiser was sacrificed to a new Ironbottom Sound. “Divert ninety percent of shield allocated energy to port, depower all P.D sectors, level out with the mark, drones are to cover in point defense!” All ships immediately executed their directives. Dual purpose guns, turbolaser arrays, and miniaturized nuclear beams were hurled every nanosecond relentlessly, while on every side, hypersonic missiles and all sorts of point defense opened up at the wasps all around. Like a pride of Saharan lions devouring a buffalo, the broadside exchange lasted only a few dozen seconds before one side had triumphed. The little flotilla succeeded in reducing their prey’s shields and, in their finishing move, sever the aft engines from the main hull. This brilliant and ballsy maneuver had saved many lives, destroying a gigantic supercarrier in this environment destroyed a large percentage of enemy drones in an instant. Now the remnant restored energy equilibrium to their ships, and rushed back to the gradually pushed human perimeter.

The would be decisive victory was erased from relevancy by what was to come next.

“They lit a second hyper…” The exhausted voice of callsign Grit once again called out to all ships in the fleet.

“Enemy battlefleet entering our space” Another sensory officer shouted, this time aboard the massive human battlecruiser. Opposition forces emerged soon after, and with its arrival, all hope of sustained operations were crushed beneath its mighty presence.

Two Titans, barley outside of firing range, prepared for combat, their hard grey shields contrasting their electrum hulls as they prepared for imminent combat. This time, there would be no tricks, no lucky hits, and no saving the humans.

“The enemy shields are even more resilient than the ones we faced at their height, Osiris, how the hell have they managed to improve?” Sinai’s Rear Admiral relayed the reality to his fleet commander.

Just then, as Grit’s cruisers were providing point defense for the derelict starship. The disaster began. Enemy battleships punched through the loose perimeter, leading to the under-reinforced destroyers, stealth ship hunting corvettes, and few frigates remaining who valiantly charged open flanks to give. Three “frontlines” hastily organized by the Africans fell, one after the other, each minute of combat leading to Osiris himself formulating a plan by this point though.

The plan was Ill fated from the jump.

“This is Osiris all remaining ships, haul-ass outside of effective enemy fire in the direction of our battlecruiser ASAP.” Osiris committed everyone to their final order in their darkest hour. “All heavy cruisers, launch Priority Two anti-matters directly in front of advancing enemy capital ships in thirty seconds.” He commanded, knowing that a full third of his remnants would have merely thirty seconds to escape. “Light cruisers, quick-link all destroyer squadrons into new formations, guide them from the blast radius.”

The remaining three-hundred thirty-seven ships gave out tired affirmatives, and strained to execute their orders. Hordes of advancing Naljuc escort ships inflicted seven losses on the human ships for everyone they endured. But men don’t quit, and as the anti-matter bombs approached, their confidence returned, their kill ratio improving ever so slightly as they consolidated for the first time. A major upset was mere moments away from manifestation, immortalization in the books even. Or so they believed.

The Command Cruiser ‘Aïr’, housing Fleet Admiral Jahre Deseme, a.k.a Osiris, was transferring shields to multiple squadrons of cruisers and frigates. Left exposed, the Nal’ bombers from one of the heavily damaged supercarriers snatched at their chance with ruthless efficiency. They closed in, the white-trailed trailblazers avoiding kill zones and, from underneath the Aïr, cycled their missiles into the soft underbelly, lifting all off their feet, starting fires, killing dozens. As their comrades usually did, they managed to flee back to their lines, to do it all over again.

On top of this hit the Africans would have to bounce back from, the anti-matter bombs were utterly stopped by a hyper-advanced Nal’ shield, projected by every single capital ship in front of their combined task force. The affect on morale was devastating and lead to even more hopelessness of the of ranks.

Such planet ending weapons, so effortlessly stopped meant the little force stood no chance.

The enduring Admiral got right back up after being tossed, with his ears ringing, head aching. Taking not even a moment to collect himself, he ducked slightly under the collapsed ceiling. As crew mates started to reawaken, Jahre finally realized the only option left. Running to the pristine microphone, he activated it and tuned it to relay to all friendly frequencies, and prepared himself to deliver a final message, should the final order fail.

Static was all he got for a good few seconds. He clicked again and again, attempting to force the device to connect to some sort of galactic relay before all hope was lost.

“Seventy-“ he stuttered, coughing up blood, stomach acid, mucus, bits of his lungs, some of his esophagus, and whatever the hell else. His enhanced form had already begun the regeneration process by the time the damage was done. “This is Osiris to all friendly forces in the galaxy: Seventy-nine percent casualties, less than a hundred battle-ready ships, the derelict is under siege by Naljuc marines. We are disengaging!”

As he lifted his hand to disengage his speaker, he looked around to witness his crew recuperating. Men and machines alike had lifted the roof and placed temporary pillars for support. All around the ship, the fight for survival continued, damage control teams of men, women, and droid sealed shut lost levels and combatted the inferno until it was contained. Technicians restored the reactor, taking the strain off of backup generators all around the ship. Once again, point defense resumed swatting the hostile wasps from the battlespace.

One last time.

To all his sailors, he gave the final order.

“We’re outnumbered ten-to-one. Sinai, jump back to the gate now.”

“All capable ships: send down the last detachment of naval infantry to the derelict within two minutes.” Osiris gave the command that would save his remnant, and possibly doom his grounded soldiers. “We’re outnumbered ten-to-one. All ships, fall back to the gate and link up with Hammer.” Demese said, believing he had saved the flagship.

“Our shields can’t keep up, I need some help!” The panic in the soul of Sinai’s commander projected onto every man left standing in the fleet. Nearly all captains began to gravitate closer toward their final line of defense, merely a couple hundred kilometers from the derelict alien warship.

“Get shield transfers on target, prepare for jump NOW!” Osiris desperately ordered his fleet while his iron fist was pressed against the glass. The enemy titans, supercarriers, and destroyers closed in from nearly all sides, mercilessly unloading on dozens of ships. This massacre was all but over.

Salvo after salvo of capital ship-killing lasers streaked toward the last human bastion. All weaponry fired by the enemy obliterated through the shields like a hot knife through a liver. Activating her hyperdrive, the battlecruiser was on the verge of escape, the verge of her legend enduring, a chance of revenge, living to fight another day.

“We are getting murdered…!”

Guttural screams of charred bodies infected every comlink in the galaxy.

“Armors gone, this is-“

—————————☆—————————

“Jesus Christ…”

That was all an entire fireteam could mutter.

As they looked beyond their hangar they entered the derelict starship in, A.F.S ‘Sinai’, famed battlewagon of the massive expeditionary efforts of a dozen galaxies, snapped in two and detonated. She suffered the same fate as what had to be over ninety percent of her decorated fleet.

“C’mon on guys…” Their sergeant snapped them out of their trance, walking backwards slower than usual.

He sighed, and with a somber tone, he recovered his mask. “We gotta keep mofuggin’ pushing, no matter how many die”

They made their way to their assigned section, to be positioned in defense of their stronghold. Just like their fellow soldiers; into hell.

“Give the scientists guns, lock down the non-hangar entrances, gather the ammunition inside the interior rooms at hubs!” Lieutenant Colonel Felix Sese-Idrisaa used the fire inside to burn away the dread. “Double time! Depressurize the fallen decks and conserve all remaining power cells to prepare for the siege!” Felix decreed to the officers of the literal tens of thousands of reinforcements who had arrived aboard his ship. He coordinated the organization of a new division sized unit of previously disunited brigades. Using the massive stockpile of supplies they would destroy certain decks completely after scrounging for anything useful, creating firing points they could maximize firepower within.

Among other tasks in the half hour before true landing corps were sent by the enemy was the standardization of combat loads. Russo-African, platinum-tinted rifles composed the majority of standard kits. Thirty-caliber South African machine guns were redistributed to each and every squad possible, ammo draped over each gunner’s shoulder and boxes attached to their waists. Medical packages, and digital maps of the explored ship were distributed to all members of all squads generously. All this in preparation for the casualties, expected by the most hopeful estimates to reach one hundred percent in three hours without reinforcements.

‘Specialist’ detachments of fighters who killed off the first waves of hostile: were reconstituted and given minutes to acclimate to their comrades before being sent to the most heavily contested sectors. The remaining thermal sights, comlinks, detonators, and submachine guns with titty mags, were thrown at them.

The division of thirty thousand African marines would hold this fossil until they were all dead.

Felix stood in the centre of his grouping, smothered in his own armor; dark as the night, with yellow lights like veins across his form, with headphones and a mic under a white beret. It was the stuff of the officer. All non commissioned officers and lieutenants surrounding him were in standard-issue: Grey nanotech full-body armor, shoulder plates broad, packing miniature rockets. None in the crowd daring to make noise as they stood at attention. Some emerald eyes stared into their leaders soul from their rectangular-shaped helmets, though most men raised their headgear and listened to their final orders face to face.

Idrisaa activated his mic, so all could bear witness to the second speech of the week.

“I realize that all of you brothers are responsible for one, or many notches in our defense tonight.” Felix started, never ceasing the slow swaying of his body, eyes meeting every pair at least once. “We all realize there is not a moment to waste. I request of you, in your final briefing, to abide by each of these principles.” The Colonel stopped his monologue for a moment as the now feared tractor beams took hold of the alien starship. Everyone shuttered and spread their legs, adjusting their center of gravity to not fall over. All recovered in no time and awaited the continuation.

“Everything we have become, we owe to our ideals!” More breaches began appearing on the map on the far side of the ship, enemy concentrations inching closer and closer. “Inexorable force propels our ascent, like the black fist of our furious Vanguard!” Idrissa’s words transformed all faces into one, bloody, battle-hardened, stoic grouping.

It was as if all soldiers, witnessing in person or on their individual radio, beyond the core level and and far away, were uplifted. Men everywhere who had taken point resumed silence, the finest hour upon them. It was as if they all found something outside of them, something monumental, gifted by the one above, by their ancestors, their enduring greats. It was as if they didn’t care about pain anymore, only strength, unlocked when one overcomes dread in the inevitable gutting that awaits them and, even worse, they’re allies. Insensitivity destroyed any hint of dread within.

It was as foreordained. Man, in his final trial before the eyes of God, achieved fearlessness.

“Honor, and immortalize; your state… your family… your liberty.” Felix prepared for his last line, the time for the officers to depart and fight along their boys drew near.

“Fight as something more terrible than a beast Fight as what you are! Fight as MEN!”

”Hoorah!”

Author's Note

Remaster in progress, check back soon if you wish to wait for that.