Author's Note

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

Chapter Two: ‘Retribution’

Forces of the Federation across the supercluster declared the harshest of all contingencies. Generals overseeing the protectorates panicked as confirmation came in. Military Directorates mobilized across the stars for warfare on a scale never before seen. The entire universe stood on edge as the tyrants of eons ago returned.

News finally started to circulate of the destruction of Sinai and the demise of her battlefleet, all after the hyped speech of two days before. The public stood in solidarity alongside their veterans, but as history constantly reminded, man struggled to get on the same page: North American and European-controlled networks slandered the Federation, labeling them with whatever nasty buzz-words they could spew out to no end. The Russians and the Chinese moved to back their African ally, applying pressure throughout the so-called "Frontier of the West". Everyone, for the moment, missed the point, at least publicly they continued their grand game of politics instead of all joining the bulwark against the resurgent alien threat. The Great Catastrophe, the great humanitarian mistake that led to the Earth's great nations being snatched and thrown around the unchained half of the universe it seemed, carried a legacy that won't be so easily put down.

-And nobody gave a fuck about the political situation, at least onboard the ancient starship that a group of alone and forsaken marines mission was to hold. The survivors of the first hour of engagement had their battle of annihilation to win. All they could focus on were the sounds of hyper-advanced, close-quarter combat, throughout the hallways and evacuated rooms, men fought a fighting retreat for the past hour against the Nal'. Over a quarter of the positions taken by the ragtag division were overran in just ten minutes, and as resistance finally stiffened, reinforcements kept arriving to dislodge all that remained. Machine gunners began to conserve ammunition, squads consolidated, and all knew what was inevitable.

“Colonel, sir, an update!” a communications operator shouted. “We have enemy concentration breaking through the starboard flank of one of our positions. They are attempting to break the first positions of the bottleneck and breakthrough the hallways.” The young man tossed his superior a datapad with a slight nod. Felix quietly whispered to himself as he took in the contents of the map.

The map presented a three-hundred-sixty-degree field of battle; most of the ship was occupied by the enemy forces, literal hundreds of kilometers in the form of a narrow system of corridors and tunnels were rather neatly divided into two colors, red advancers, and green defenders. A solid wall of around a third of the derelict was covered in green, with the bridge, his position, marked with a blue symbol. Boxes, known as sectors or levels, composed the ship, and his force currently occupied the first twenty-six closest to the bridge, with the first few extending both up and down to compensate for the bridge's position until a constant rectangle was formed.

“Tell the boys to abandon the twenty-sixth level, and fall back to the final prepared position at twenty-fifth, we can hold the bottleneck,” he started. “as they hightail, collapse those roofs. We’re gonna force them into those kill zones, the guys can at least wreck as many of them as they are us.”

Man now faced more than a species, he faced his precursor. Yet another supposedly “all-powerful”, he would be made just another speed bump on his home world as unfathomable justice of the frontier took them. Enslaving half of the reality was simply too egregious for the average to suck it up and allow it. Even if man pretended as though his own were not worthy of such treatment, he didn't care, man was just too significant to die. And if he did die, then his brethren would kill the murderer, and manifest what they always were inside; judge, jury, and executioner.

"Get my X.O. to take over," Felix said, much to the confusion of the Corporal, "I must not stay here any longer."

"You're going to the front? That's suicide, sir..."

"I know, but these are difficult times and, perhaps, my death will allow us a few more seconds to hold." Felix accepted his fate with open arms. Of course, it was his fate at one point or another today, another man killed in action, to be replaced by another, but he didn't mind at all, not anymore.

And with that, he put his beret down, his buzz-cut breathing for a few seconds before he finally put his helmet on. Inside his headgear, the blackness was replaced by the three-hundred-sixty-degree sensors and cameras of his surroundings. Sagebrush green interfaced showing his heartbeat and personal shield unit power level in the bottom right quadrant. In red was his ammunition count, the rifle in his hands connecting itself to the mainframe. Last but not least, the map of the known compartments and decks of the derelict ship was transferred to all soldiers on the frontline, including himself. As an officer, Felix was able to call the shots using his brain instead of words now. Neurotransmissions to every member of the team were sent out immediately, and his enhanced cognitive speed had improved this ability by an order of magnitude.

Felix chose the most desperate sector to intervene in personally. It was already infamous among those who survived for being a death sentence, and it was designated Level Thirteen-Ten. It was to be expected that this would be the most desperate front, multiple hangars were seized by the enemy and most led directly here. Felix, who was considered a supersoldier in his own right, would hold this bottleneck, or die trying, alongside his men.

Jogging along the medical bays where the few lucky wounded toil, his ears picked up the screams of Nal' and Human alike, the first couple of times he shuddered, and then he stopped.

'I shall be among them.'

He reached the final corner after several minutes. To his front led to even more sectors resisting the golden tide of Naljuc, and before him, the final road between him and certain death. Preparing himself by making a religious sign with his hands, he ran down the grey hallway and burst the door open with his right shoulder. Catching himself from the fall, he stopped as he took in the surroundings.

This was not a mere hallway he stood in, but a slaughterhouse. Everywhere the golden corpses lay, so did a human one. It was quickly revealed that state-of-the-art nanotech provided zero protection against enemy sonic weaponry. Every affected liver, lungs, and anything else except bone was converted into soup. Red fumes from the still-active sonic particles visibly tainted the air. Armor plates and clothes of the fallen could not contain the horrid sights; for at best, they covered parts of an individual's mess, and at worst the remaining atoms joined the pool of skin, blood, and guts.

"TAKE COVER"

The wall next to Felix blew up sweeping him off his feet. Nal' soldiers over ten feet in height stormed into the breach, fully encircling every one of their one hundred adversaries, cramped in the tunnel of red mist and sonic rounds. Felix backed up on the floor, crawling on his back as he shook beams of steel off his legs. All around him, the orders of sergeants and the cries of privates being slammed into makeshift barricades of their comrades' remains made the career officer shit himself.

With an acidic, demonic roar that put the dinosaurs to shame, a Nal' warrior, naked with a mask over its eyes and the mangled intestines of Christ knows how many men hanging on its neck with, blitzed forward with double-edged clubs, decorated with puny blades it must've looted. Felix scrambled to his feet, adrenaline coursing through his veins, recovered the Kalashnikov-styled assault rifle from his hip, and began an assault of his own on the beast. He emptied the clip upon the hellspawn's genitalia, the abomination endured its testicles turn to mist and its penis replaced by copper, leaving nothing but a sliver of red skin with a few nerves dangling from it when the African was done destroying.

The bullets continued to spray, now into its chest and the muscle tissue of what appeared to be his pec muscles began to protrude from his skin, bullets dividing and splitting and fracturing everything in their path. With another roar the ogre merely shook off the gallons of blood spilling from the holes in its form and redoubled his attack. Felix reloaded his gun and skipped back to buy himself milliseconds, but it wasn't enough.

'This is the end.'

-But it wasn't, not yet. A soldier who had, judging by the amount of skin that covered him, been fighting in this sector from the jump, threw himself on the beast's back, dagger out and helmet long since gone. The organ-covered man had to be less than twenty-three, yet he smiled as though he was Micah McNeal himself in the heat of combat. This boy latched onto the beast's back as Felix was thrown around once again, and, with steel teeth, surely taken from his K.I.A platoon commander, locked into its left deltoid, undoubtedly tainted with the feces of other humans it had killed. The private continued chomping away, his armor protecting him from the underpowered bashes of the hostile determined to squash his frenzied ass to no end.

The kid then drove his blade, still soaked from its previous victims, into the developed upper trap of the warrior and pulled with all his might in opposite directions. First, the muscle was cleaved, and as pressure increased, ribs were cracked and split apart, taking with them the hearts and lungs of the beast, all streaking to the floor, only stopped by thick, alien veins struggling to keep organs from falling to the ground. The private once again pressed his attack, tearing the shoulder off completely, leaving a small part of the enemy's back responsible for keeping the tricep connected. Again his titanium teeth punctured the enemy, this time on his right side, finishing the ritual and completing the triple division of the enemy being; arms, shoulders, down to the obliques dangling from the hip.

The Private finally unlocked his teeth, hit the ground, and waltzed up to his superior as the great enemy finally collapsed.

"Gonna... gonna be your turn to do what I just did sir..." He offered a hand to Felix that was graciously accepted. After pulling him off the ground, he collapsed himself, drawing his final breath through his soaked lips.

Felix would have to grieve later. He became the final defender of this side of the hallway, and more terrors approached through the gathering. He swiftly snatched the knife from the cold floor, along stray heavy energy launcher of enemy origin, quickly formulating a plan as he retreated to about twenty meters before the troops defending his ass. He rolled to cover, dodging rounds only for a few to hit his subordinates behind him.

'Get your head in the game Idrissa.'

With that command shouted to himself, he lifted his weapons, using the debris as a sort of bipod as he sprayed into the advancing horde. Rifle Round after rifle round made contact with a body, drilling the average, reducing the flanker's numbers by half, but not even stunning the giants and giantesses that laughed at his pathetic attempt. The rage finally activated the enhancements within Felix as he picked up the heavy energy launcher, hoisting it over his shoulders, primed it, and launched the purple light at the demons. All in the blast radius were evaporated and hallway walls caved in, sealing their dead asses from their support.

Felix whipped around to see the final Sergeant left standing approaching him. Waving his arm and approaching, the two went over what had transpired as the final waves of attack were killed off by the surviving soldiers.

"We stay here, were dead, sir..." The Sergeant whose nameplate read Amari, began, knowing what abandoning this major center point would enable. Nal' soldiers could expand their breach, and flank over a dozen decks via the corridors behind the now collapsed walls, still possible to blow a path through. Unless the already combat-ineffective platoon could hold over a dozen decks and hallways critical to continued resistance, there was no choice but to retreat.

Felix responded with a plan he had already formulated at his headquarters and now would reveal to all soldiers, activating his helmet's mic, ensuring all commanders would hear. "We are going scorched earth on all the current sectors, reserves are going to cover our asses for however long it takes. They are being redeployed to persecute rearguard actions through designated Levels Twenty-Five through Eight." Felix articulated, the sounds of battle temporarily fading as his men carried out this directive as best they could, finishing firefights, terrified to receive the order to give more ground. "Fall back towards layer two of defense, command will assign exact positions within the minute. Execute." A wave of 'yes sir's filled his ears as he looked down at the kid who had saved his life.

"I saw the whole thing happen, sir..." Sergeant Amari sighed, memories of the young marines just like him replayed. Now they were all turned into food. "He was one our newest and, one of our bravest. We will have our revenge, no matter the cost..."

"His name was Akpan." He finally finished, giving his superior time to process the information.

"We... must blow this wall up to hell." Felix pointed to his right-hand side and snapped his fingers. "There are small walkways that we can use to fall back, C&C said." He did not wish to revisit what he had seen today, but he accepted that he was about to see worse. And feel worse. With the issue of direction settled a pair of troopers blasted a hole in the wall that led to, as stated, a walkway that led to previously inaccessible areas. As the platoon grew closer to the sounds of renewed combat, explosions, and screams of Naljuc, they exited into a fresh, untouched corridor that happened to be their post. It was relatively remote and, for the moment, was calm.

"Our area likely will only experience some secondary enemy units." Amari started as the men sat down and got all the rest they could. "Reserves are still engaged in the rearguard action. Colonel, is there anything else you would have us do?" Amari finished with a short breath, witnessing his commander stare down the clean passage that soon would be yet another front. He could almost foresee his second battle, hundreds more fallen enemies and yet another retreat, to repeat over and over again until they were pushed back to the control room. And then their real final stand would come. Everyone knew it was a matter of time unless Republic arrived in time and fucked the enemies up, but with how fast Sinai was destroyed, everyone doubted their apparatus more than ever. In his mind, Amari cursed Osiris, that dastardly admiral, for ordering them to certain death, the situation reminded him of America's Operation Watchtower on the small island of Guadalcanal. The only difference was this place was far bigger... and his defenders were getting their shit split even worse... but even a grunt could see why this starship was so important.

"Negative, Sergeant," Felix replied, "-well I would like one thing." He changed his mind and realized that lying in wait, or worse, falling back to the command center was not the table. His Supreme Commander would never want any of his officers to commit such a heinous act after choosing to fight alongside the men. Going back on the promise he made, going back to his post, the logical choice for any officer, was not what Micah would do. Maybe the correct choice, definitely the correct choice, but not what his gut said. He made a decision, crushing the thousand-yard stare that had manifested on his face with mental fortitude alone, and once again prepared himself for the end, maybe for real this time.

"Get me a machine gun, and give me some boxes, I'm going back in."

—————————☆—————————

Galaxy: New-Saleem

-

“Hammer-a second task force is following us to the gate, are you in position?”

“Affirmative Osiris, we are holding in the next galaxy.” Fleet Admiral Umbru began. The crews manning each of his ships were about to be bloodied once again.

“Combined Fleet, jump in now.” McNeal finished on behalf of Umbru.

"Understood, jumping in." Came the acknowledgment from a few ship captains, leaders of their assigned subdivisions within the larger armada.

Contained by superstructure in high orbit, the red matter of the intergalactic gate manifested in a wall of light. Over four thousand ships of all sizes prepare to begin the last war against the remnant of the slain “Gods of War”.

“Tell control to redesignate Riot's fleet as a supporting force to the Russians. Their ships will fill in for any losses before our counterattack.” Micah ordered no one in particular. After everyone had gotten over the shock of the Sinai meeting her end, excitement was purged. The scattered, former masters of half of known reality, had brutally reminded the younger species that he is not supreme. “Get a line to Naval Intelligence going as well, son. Ask them if they know which fleet this is… please.” Micah thought they had been left destroyed, in the last war. That the bastards would be unable to continue their way of life because of what Umbru’s black fist did to them, he was wrong. Micah would kill them all with his implanted teeth before he allowed himself to spend the weeks after his three-thousandth birthday losing battles.

“Aye, sir.” The calm reply from this veteran made Micah sigh.

Standing tall, he moved up to the primary bridge of Dreadnaught Kenyatta, victory on his mind. Waltzing around to a transparent tablet, the Marshall read the transmitted report on a heavily monitored being. The Shipmaster, whose age rivaled humanity's greatest and who dominated revolters and foreign armies in the End Times of Great Nal’, was named Surapadman.

A new enemy to rip the organs out of? Yes, very good. A subjugator of slaves who dream of freedom? Sounds familiar indeed. Micah loved the idea of his thunder searing through flesh and gripping his stomach, throwing them down in front of the great enemy of freedom lovers, snatching away its appetite for destruction. He almost grinned, and nearly laughed out loud as he imagined the look on the bastard's face… This sinister side, Micah would hold back, unless he was forced. The Fleet of Surapadman’s Terror was fast approaching the opposite side of the gate he was in, though.

As soon as he collected himself, which took no time at all, seeing as all this happened on the bridge, and that his stoic mask was unfazed, he returned to the center. The biggest space battle with the most advanced systems up to this point in history was about to happen.

It was time for the showdown.

—————————☆—————————

Galaxy: MLD-RG

As the combined fleet, minus Riot's ships, emerged from hyperspace, they had to establish themselves quickly to counter a strong enemy offensive. Advance units had already engaged the remnants of Osiris' fleet and were winning. Republic was the first ship to respond, her long-range beams striking pairs of Nal' Destroyers and frigates, neutralizing them with extreme prejudice.

The slaughter of the small enemy force would lead to enemy reinforcements gathering en mass, jumping into the firing range of the human superships, one after another.

“That's a lot of hostiles in local-" Umbru uttered, clearly shocked at the already massive number of ships both sides were deploying. Each second, a new human heavy cruiser squadron, battlecruiser, or horde of frigates emerged from the hypergate, matched only by a new Naljuc Titan or supercarrier arriving to match them. All capital ships were as big as the next, and the numbers were roughly even, leading the Admiral to one conclusion; This would be a fight to the death, and this would decide who would eventually come out on top. Humanity or Nal'? The primogenitor versus the descendent?

"Heh, yeah, glad you could make it." Grit, who was streaking back behind the Republic alongside every remaining ship of his fleet in formation, scoffed at the Admiral's revelation. His veteran forces would need all the assistance they could get, an even now, the situation was grim. A dozen Titan Class ships and even more supercarriers had to mean that air supremacy would be firmly Nal's, even if the point defense systems of the Russo-African forces were superior, as proved in the previous engagement over the ninth planet, they could only hope to mitigate the damage done by enemy bombers. Human Interceptors and drones would be critical to defensive operations, and all the human Admirals knew it.

The time for deliberation was over, the hell began right here, right now, the fear of backing down, rather than the fear of fighting propelling humans forward.

"All directors, focus fire on the squadron level, check targets by range-HERE THEY COME." The Marshall got off the intercom as his dreadnaught was among the first to taste blood, slaughtering an enemy destroyer squadron in an instant with nuclear artillery, while its turbolaser arrays targetted the nearest Titan, slowly working the hostile shields as they glistened in the red sun. "Go broadside, focus fire on the reactor, work them with the kinetic launchers once shields are down!" McNeal ordered the gunners on the starboard side as he observed the largest fight in centuries.

Like an old-school, fifteen round boxing match, the fight was less a battle of striking power, kinetic bombardment, or feverish usage of thermonuclear rockets at point-blank range, but a test of animalistic endurance, and fear of the inevitable shame of defeat. This battle, captured in perfect quality on both ships, would be leaked and immortalized by both Nal' and Africans alike as 'The Battle of the Gods'. Both ships expended thousands of Hyperion and Vajra Tech shock absorbers every second, the country-sized duelers overwhelming each other's shields at the same moment as concentrated incendiary energy from the Titan and kinetic bombardment from Kenyatta inflicted grievous wounds on all compartments that were exposed.

On the Kenyatta, Micah was able to see unarmored soldiers fall out of blown open compartments from his perks on the bridge. A man with his armor on, had a red gash on his head and a massive hole in his helmet, flew out into vacuum and his head exploded. He was not alone, but among dozens ejected after him as droids and suited up men rushed to seal the gap under fire.

"SHOOT EM-SHOOT EM-SHOOT EM RUSKI! NOW! THERE ABOUT TO FUCK US!" A Gunnery officer shouted through the communications array to the bear behind them. All hell broke loose as Russian battlecruiser 'Amur' didn't need to be told twice; the burgundy energy circled the ship and, once it all was consolidated into the spinal superlaser, beamed towards the gigantic Titan. It pierced what must've been entire legions of enemy vessels in its path, obliterating what had to be a hundred within a millisecond as the trailblazing bolt of light made its way through the vacuum. With an earthshattering boom, the ship the size of the state of Alaska buckled up and then down, its hull cracking and imploding into four parts containing millions of crew members, each colliding with hordes of Nal' ships.

"This shit is not what I signed up-"

"Don't get smart now boy, keep it tight." Micah interrupted the gun operator before he uttered s’more smart ass shit. "You there," he said, pointing towards an uninjured woman getting up from the floor, likely thrashed when the shields fell, "tell Umbru to get Repub-"

"Already Done, Marshall. Republic and Barca are in wedge formation as we speak." The reply came from the comms array.

"Alright, I get it," Micah stopped himself from speaking his mind, "Continue to provide transfers, we're pushing up the center-left flank now, tell the Comoros and Volta to link up with Amur and fuck those supercarriers before they work us to death."

"Yes, Marshall," Luti replied calmly, not escalating since his leader was now pissed enough to start swearing. He turned to his secondary commanders within the starboard bridge, striding towards them as they surrounded a green table in the middle.

"What's the situation of the fleet?"

"We're doing good enough sir," the Ensign began his explanation, "Since we saved Kenyatta, a few squadrons of heavy cruisers and Volta were able to take out a pair of carriers and a titan they isolated." The words were met by a curt nod by his superior, the good news always came first. "The bad news is, sir, that we are losing just as many escort-sized ships because of those enemy starfighters, their shitting on us bad, and it doesn't matter that our interceptors can shoot them down with impunity, they just keep coming." The officer's grim analysis reminded Luti of a fight he had back in his youth, during the Northern insurrection.

'A bygone era, no need to reflect now...' Luti thought... and then thought some more.

"I have an idea of how we can stop the hostile bombers, men." Umbru proclaimed, knowing damn well what the reaction of his guys would be. "We're gonna send all the interceptors, drones, and fighters to reinforce the other parts of our 'front', our indomitable shields will protect us as we charge into that nexus of enemy carriers you see on the map." The projection displayed a small opening on the flanks leading toward the aforementioned grouping, a clear plan of action didn't take a genius to figure out. All the men surrounding the table nodded in agreement, all but one, who raised his concerns after gathering himself.

"Sir, the Nal' destroyed an entire fleet just hours ago and they proved themselves strong enough to hold multiple of our task force's heaviest ships at once, we should reconsider this." The man articulated his concerns like a member of his crew should, quickly. Umbru pondered the question for a few seconds as he pieced together his counter-argument to no avail.

Sighing, Umbru conceded that his plan was based on more than one fundament flaw, and said as such, asking for more ideas to come through as he sensed the true beginning of this battle hadn't even begun yet.

The rifles from the Republic’s never ceased their incessant fire on the enemy forces, every second, a plethora of ships of the enemy fleet met their doom as the three battlewagons approached the hottest scene of battle. Kenyatta, by now repaired as much as possible, resumed her fire support, locking onto the targets in which the control centers of the battlecruiser designated.

"We should organize our three capital ships, consolidate, and THEN allow ourselves to advance with some support from those destroyers and frigates all around us. Those guys will allow us to got decent point defense that covers every last angle." The officer stated.

“If you can integrate them into a loose formation within a minute, we will do it.” Umbru gave his ultimatum, he would have to see potential manifest before the he totally conceded his old plan of action. “Until then, continue to wither down their escorts, after all, most their drones are still onboard those dickheads.”

“Aye, sir.” A group of officers returned to their positions with no more complaints and began to relay commands to hundreds of frigates and destroyers to get within range of Republic’s protective aura. “Get the entire little cluster behind us to cover our engines and the rear flank, shit is exposed, Lieutenant.” The voices started to fade, but not before the final words came through.

“Heh, That’s Osiris’s entire force, Cap’.” The subordinate replied with a chuckle with respect and pity in his voice. “They prolly’ the most experienced support fleet in the armada by this point, glad to have them covering our ass.”

“Couldn't agree more, L.T.” The voices finally faded as Umbru walked back to the center of the deck, observing the mauled Kenyatta.

“High Marshall, what direction will you lead our strike force?” Umbru remembered to always coordinate his actions with his friend, but first of all his superior. His individual preference of the order of battle was secondary, he had to learn that the hard way after a minor fuckup ages ago. “Osiris’ remnant is about gonna cover our six, Grit is on Amur’s’ ass, commanding their branches escort shits and what not, when will we match their advance?”

“Once you’re done forming our force we will be moving up the gut, the cluster of carriers we’re targeting will be marked on your screens right about…” Micah paused for effect, “now, Admiral.” Micah replied, having lost his attitude from the earlier talk.

“Alright, then it’s said, in a few seconds they will be ready.” Luti finished the talk, switching the topic. “A transmission from Riot just came in; their stealth corvettes have activated their mobile gates for rapid intervention when the start to losses mount.” Luti informed his leader, leaving out the details of the message.

“Understood… Kenyatta’s turbolasers are linked to your gunners for focus fire, use us well.”

“I assure you, the gals onboard are very talented with the sword.” Luti chuckled out without a care in the world. “-At least that’s what the Privates say.” He let out a snicker before he composed himself for the last time.

“Very funny, that better be the case boy.” Micah deadpanned without a hint of emotion. “You def’ shoot out dust from your geezer ass though…” he sighed, thinking of all the times in his youth he could keep up a good roast session. He couldn’t find a second line despite how hard he tried. “Damn… we’re too old for this.”

The duo resumed their operations as Osiris had assembled hundreds of escort ships around the wounded dreadnaught, and two carriers. A new phase battle began as the cluster began its counter strike against the enemy carriers.

The enemy was caught off guard initially, with Carrier Barca scoring first blood against a hostile supercarrier loaded with spacecraft. The advanced, super-efficient fuel burned as well as any when the Barca’s turbolasers touched the vessel. Their fleets attack had taken precedence over the other major offensive since Amur was thrashed, shields left dangerously low and battlecruiser Comoros had sustained serious damage, dragged out of the A.O via tractor beam.

Enemy Titans had chosen this moment to intervene, the seven remaining unleashing salvo after salvo of completely foreign energy at the three greatest ships in the grand navy. As the closest titan made its move, it was focused by the entire formation, its protection slowly drained until the nuclear artillery was on the verge of penetrating that golden hue. It was at that moment when two more Titans, slightly smaller in length and with oval shaped reactors poking through their hull, started transferring shields. The three behemoths somehow nullified the African barrage and began restoring the enemy shields, while under a bombardment that could destroy quasars.

“Umbru, unleash the kinetic dimensional accelerators,” What Micah McNeal saw before him were not mere warships, standing up to his own, but the death of his Federation flashing before his eyes if any of the three capital ships were obliterated. “Disregard all safety regulations, FIRE AT WILL!”

The man in charge now lost his shit. He started sweating from the heat of the bridge, and sweating from the fear in his soul. As the kinetic killers from Republic hungrily consumed whatever energy was few to them within their tubes, the antimatter/cobalt warheads began emanating black thunder in the gargantuan turret. The double-barreled super-weapon whines as it slowly turned towards the enemy vessel its fellow guns were targeting, each second closer to its release. Drones fighters, and bombers clashed all around the weapon with billions of bodies on it, as the Nal’ caught wind and desperately tried to dispose of it. Over a thousand fighters from both sides twisted in the zero gravity arena, missiles streaking everywhere as the humans desperately tried to hold the enemy bombers off to no avail.

A squadron of Naljuc attack craft exploited an opening that had formed in the battlespace, their flying-wing hulls leaving behind white trails as their engines went into an afterburner like mode. They streaked across the gap, only a few of them getting shot down by a single desperate point defense cannon, and as they got within a few miles of the belly of Republic, they released their hypersonic missiles.

“All crew members: prepare yourselves!”An artificial voice called out within the walls of the battle carrier in the seconds that remained…

On Republic itself, the crew frantically prepared the gun for an unrestricted shot, unchained by the rules, and not given proper warning about the threat. Naval technicians steamrolled throughout the ship, catching supersonic metro’s or rodean elevator to their positions. Every second, countless switches flipped, water coolants restarted their flowing around the reactor core, and men with machine might began doing everything to prime every single one of the thousands of inter-dimensional links to the projectiles they would fire upon command.

A single miscalculation could destroy every single starship in this fleet. In the grand scheme of things, a minor material loss for all parties involved-sure-but one that nobody planned to permit. Before the final launch confirmation code was sent to the bridge for Umbru himself to authorize, artificial intelligence systems and humans checked again, and again… again, and again,while the black lightning pre-prepared itself for firing, feeding off of reactor given energy and the dark matter of this universe.

Of course, the vast majority of these technicians were not aware that enemy weapons were on course to end all their work. For the thousands of men and women who witnessed the missiles hone in on their target, this would be a defining moment of their life. The death of A.F.S Republic, Conqueror of Andromeda, Ruiner of the Second Galactic Sector, was upon them. Red light gleaming from the missiles fast approaching stole the spectators attention, from the cockpits of the interceptor, to Micah himself, their hearts dropped.

…

“We intercepted it! The missile just scraped paint of-“ the ever calm voice of Luti Umbru came upon the coms channel to stop the panic even he could sense.

“RAHHHHHHHHH!!” Micah shouted through the microphone to all callsigns across the fleet, he wasn’t even the loudest among the tens of thousands screaming at the same time. “FIRE AT WILL!” He ordered while adrenaline overflowed in his system, a evil grin grew on his face as he prepared to immortalize the death of more millions of hated scum. The enemy would once again be reminded of what man was capable of.

The round finally released, its white beam taking no time at all to find its first target. The antimatter bypassed the enemy shields without any resistance, and turned the enemy vessel into scrap metal, and it did not stop there. Less than a second later, as the cobalt laced salted radiation finished their toxic assault, and two similar anti matter beams darted across space, hitting the two Titans who had just been robbed of their shields. Onboard those coffins, all who survived were scared for life if they were lucky enough to somehow survive the antimatter in which their ships were capable of mitigating. All the human nations doctrinally utilized cobalt in a cruel matter as a guaranteed way to taint survivors, and as escape pods emerged less than a minute and started flying towards the closest of the four or so operational Titans. The Africans allowed them to escape unabated as the three wrecks split, just like their pride.

“Continue the offensive!” Osiris called out to all units. “Polar fleet, focus fire on those enemy cruisers, this fights far from over.”

“Da, commander-“ some static alongside a loud bang screwed with his communications for a moment as Amur received an attack, tanked, and promptly dispatched the frigates with a volley of thermobaric rounds. “-g-good work back there, brothers and sisters, we’re together for victory!” The Russian complemented, returning to his native tongue to continue the organization of his forces as they advanced into the final phase of this hellish day.

The hostile commander, identified as the undefeated ‘Surapadman’, suddenly switched their fleet’s priority target. Their ships ceded space to Kenyatta’s grouping as they fought their way back to their inner circle, their heavy fire flank, targeting the battlecruiser more and more every passing minute.

“We’re working the devils from our angle, Volta and her escorts are alongside us again, commander, Amur out.” The Russian heavy cruiser ‘Kaganovich’ broadsided a plethora of smaller ships alongside her sister, ‘Sverdlov’; destroyers, light cruisers, frigates and fighters fell before their mighty guns time and time again, proving their mettle. The two mauled multiple waves of said ship types, and did not hesitate to utilize their nuclear artillery on hostile gremlins, ending their pitiful existence and sending them to see their divine ‘Watcher’. In the end, the Russian pair, alongside other, lighter ships, made over a hundred ships their bitches within a few minutes of the skirmishes beginning.

“All callsigns, reinforcements are inbound!” Grit

“Riot, come in.” Osiris commanded, eager for their trump card to assist them in the mid-fight rotation.

“Standing by,”

“Solidified, you are clear to jump in.” Coordinated we’re transferred with haste; the advantage was with the humans, and they would be damned if they would let it slip out of their collective hand once again.

“Copy, jumping.” As Riot finished his affirmative, his forces had already begun emerging from F.T.L with fresh forces that completely compensated for the losses suffered in all action of the last thirty minutes. His arrival compelled the Nal’ to begin the process of retreat back to the derelict warship-right where the African marines were making their last stand…

“All ships, link up on me and chase down that last command ship. We’re going to force them into a rout, EXECUTE.” Upon arrival, the state of human intelligence increased tenfold as specialized surveillance ships entered the fray. Riot blitzed through the now under-defended right flank of the enemy, his ships blasting every enemy out of the way ahead of the capital ships.

His support fleet was less of a iron curtain, and more like the arachnid’s web for the hyper-lethal warpigs in the form of the vicious triumvirate of Kenyatta, Republic, and Barca, finally earning the domination of the starfighter arena.

The enemy forces must’ve sensed that loss was inevitable and decided to retreat and link up with their main force at the derelict. The thrusters on the hostiles instantaneously turned their ships in the opposite direction and they began to flee with their tail between their legs.

“Riot, have stealth units confirmed the viability of a counterattack?” Micah asked, as for the first time since the battle began, he had a moment to catch his breath and relent from commanding the efforts of Kenyatta. The lack of his black coat, still mysteriously gone, proved to be a blessing, as with just his olive sweater he could remain somewhat cool in the repairing dreadnought.

He was thrown out of his thoughts as Riot transmitted the live feed of one of the stealth frigates within the enemy controlled system. The reinforcements brought in by the enemy forces to this galaxy and others was growing by the hour. By this point over three dozen galaxies of humanities furthest reaches were active battlefields. All of these mostly backwater settlements were located within just two of the furthest galactic super clusters of humanity. But by this point the African Congress would be glad to permit the declaration of a state of war to counter this rising threat.

Across the war zones, entire Russo-African galaxy’s were being equipped with reservist and experienced legions of dreadnoughts, carriers, and escort hordes were mobilized and sent forward in the trillions.

Humanities first true universal scale war…

Even without counting the P.R of China, and the Indian allies, the two human nations engaged in the existential struggle still dwarfed the estimated Nal’ capability. Although most fleet battles come back as victories, the lack of human knowledge about the situation of over half the universe casted doubts on the theory of the human ability to resist.

After all, a few Titans not to long ago tanked a small barrage of antimatter bombs…

But mankind has come to far to give up, no matter what circumstances come, man will endure.

And when the day of defeat comes, they would obliterate themselves rather than allow anyone other than a fellow man enslave them.

“They got a few Titans remaining at this axis of advance…” Micah looked at the paneled windows and allowed himself a moment more to an articulate. “Is Comoros battle ready? If so, we’re going now.”

“Affirmative, High Marshall,” the captain of Comoros spoke up, his ship rotating after its emergency field repairs were done. “We shall follow protocol and remain in the back line, if that is what you command, sir!” The professional reply was welcomed by Micah, and he made his mind.

“Good…”

Micah McNeal, with his countrymen and women and allied peoples afar would prove to the entire universe something they hadn’t dared to dream of. The young species, known by the aliens for their brutal, animalistic taste for conflict, and hatred of all things peace, would destroy the greatest evil ever seen.

The killers of hundreds of millions of their own would be redeemed, and in the impure blood of the enemy, they would be the ones to defeat slavery, no matter the cost. No matter how many innocents would meet their doom, no matter how many rules would be violated. No matter how many times mankind’s true nature of malice and the temptation of darkness, inkier than the void of space would prevail…

This species had been trifled with, treated like some pacifist just waiting to be butchered-it’s alright though-there would be hell to pay. Many would do it for Justice, many for the One Above All. Some for the right price, and s’more for the thrill of watching some aliens take their last breath, but it would be done regardless.

They would know what the true dreams were, or at least what they morphed into…

The Naljuc: the ancient rapist of nearly all people, pillagers of galaxies, ENSLAVERS! of half the universe, would be wiped from reality… whether it be because of love of the fellow decent species, or demand for blood.

It didn't matter anymore. Those humans… didn't care about pain anymore.

That… is the deepest, darkest Dream of our Federation, the deepest, darkest Dream of all Mankind. And it sure ain’t fair.

And it sure ain't have to be.

“…now let’s’s kick these bastards out of our system.”