Dreams of Federation [EAW]

Surapadman could only stare at his screen, watching the massacre by those human ”superships”.

Perhaps they had finally ascended to a level near his own people. The strength of just one of their ‘nations’, however stupid the concept was, alone proving a match for him. Their strength and the fight they would bring was commendable.

‘A minor loss for the watcher.’

In his ebony bridge, he sat in his golden seat, the pinnacle of Surapadman’s many campaigns, cherished by all-for no one being could live long enough to manifest fear of it. He observed every battle in his galactic area on the paneled window before him.

The bastards probably thought those ‘Titans’ as they coined it were… anything special.

“Hah!” The Shipmaster laughed as that, grand human ship, emblazoned on its side-Republic, obliterated the Akash, the Vimar and the Gani. The white beam projected from its grey belly having slaughtered millions of in a second.

They will continue to believe that there was a great victory. They will pay, in due time.

For now, the Nal’ High Command had other plans in which he would obey faithfully. The Fleet of Surapadman’s Terror had just finished subjugating the last splinter group of the Naljuc species, damned fools who dared declare “independence” from the old order were dealt with after centuries of their insolence. Their ideals were inspired by those, ‘Americans’, how his species could be just so pathetic perplexed him.

His currently deployed units would assist in this group of “probing attacks”. It was no secret that the humans knew they were holding back, but they would never expect what was to come. Just beyond their known universe, warfare on a scope and scale unfathomable had already begun, the now free, thriving slave species of Great Nal’ resurfacing across the universe took most of Naljuc's capacity to fight effectively, though over thirty percent of the rebuilt, rejuvenated, and convicted forces of Nal, prepared for millennia, were ready to commence the largest invasion ever. The invasion would dwarf everything and decide the fate of this universe, and depending on the desires of the victors, perhaps many more. And their target was all mankind.

It was something the great Surapadman would stop at nothing to see through. He was given absolute authority as the effective commandant of his sector's fleets. There would be no excuse for failure, and he would make a mockery out of these hyped-up men, once and for all.

“My brothers, we are coming out of the light in the next few minutes.” He proclaimed over the intercom to all decks of the ship. “Prepare the warriors to reinforce the boarding party on that starship, the rest of you, battlestations, Execute.”

The crew on the bridge along with him bowed submission, and their shipmaster acknowledged them in return, nodding and standing up.

‘Might as well mimic that bastard.’ He thought to himself as he grabbed the intercom from his seat and raised it to his mouth.

‘I’ll do a speech of my own.’

The intelligence game was no secret to all in the universal scale game. All species had intelligence operatives everywhere within each other. Although the humans were just starting to make contact with the other side of the universe, they were by far the top dogs in the race. With ten millennia of studying each other and eclectic cultures worlds apart, their counterintelligence was spot on, though in some nations more than others.

None of that mattered though when it came to the second most viewed event in the history of their African Federation, which came just before they lost their precious ship and her wider sector armada. People already vowed vengeance, like it was a significant loss in the first place. Attachment to a single, admittedly powerful, battlecruiser among the billions that even the most primitive contacts of the Africans know they have is futile.

Surapadman took in a breath and prepared to address every ship in the now dimming hyperspace glow.

In this war, they would need every single one, and more to succeed. They would need to improve upon everything, and so would the Nal’. For this war would destroy both of the species and only one would be able to recover.

“My warriors, our time has come.”

And today would be their first taste.

“The day approaches!”

——————————————————

Galaxy: MLD-RG
Planet: RTH-IX

Micah stood within the port hangar bay of Kenyatta, inspecting the readiness of his Naval Infantry who were to be thrust into the close combat within the hour. The devil dogs rotated from their armament bays deep in the ship to the hangars they would be disembarked from. They were ready for a new kind of war.

Sergeants, Lieutenants, and Battalion Commanders lead troops and beckoned them into the dozens of large, high speed transports at once. Equipment was hauled to small cargo haulers no bigger than a fighter and prepared to high-speed entry into the derelict once the expected blockade was broken.

”Marshall, sir,” a woman began, “Umbru just gave the green light,” she looked down at her tablet, reading a transcript, “seven-seven-four is stationed on board Kenyatta to escort you to that alien ship,” Micah was informed by the female pilot standing to his side. “Oh and, Operatives are requesting that you lead them into that bloodbath, sir. If I were you I wouldn’t go down there-with all due respect it seems doomed.”

Micah was paying attention, but his thoughts reigned for a few seconds. He had felt his gut telling him something big was here. These attacks were carried out with Titans, swarming and occupying entire sectors of some frontier galaxy’s. Beside that, the enemy failed to target anything of particular value besides the derelict. This was the beginning of, and he only just realized it.

Micah knew what he should do when uncertainty took hold; consult his best. Something certainly more than some desperate jabbing was going on.

“Ah, yes I suppose you have a point, I am the leader of the nation. But I am first and foremost an altered lab rat made for war, ain’t that right?” He joked, but spoke the truth, putting his hands on his hips. “And I suppose that the men on the derelict will know better than us what’s going on-sure I’ll lead em, and you’ll work this transport there?” Micah acknowledged her after a few seconds. He didn’t like surprises but this wasn’t exactly one to be declined, they were perfect for this mission.

“It will be done, sir.”

Micah watched her board the large V.T.O.L shuttle and resumed his train of thought. The Nal’ force when they exited hyperspace would undoubtedly be the greatest they had seen today, the battles only got harder and harder. They would fight out in revenge. A shiver ran up the Marshalls spine as he imaged what fighting a vengeful spirit that wasn’t of his own kind was like.

The murderer in him wanted to find out, and he scoffed the fear away.

‘You will see very soon, do not fret.’

Indeed he would.

“All hands, we are exiting hyperspace in ten hours, commence your final takes and rotate shifts within the hour.” The intercom went off across the entire fleet, every ship became an hotbed of alerted and preparing men for the combat for their second or third time today.

Four trained killers of Detachment seven-seven-four converged upon their Marshall in the hangar and took an arrowhead position by his side, silent as snakes. They awaited his action, all but one, taller member looking up towards him. They were all armored in black the highest quality: their legs and heads and the rest of the bodies were completely surrounded and enclosed in nano-protection. Two tall shoulder blade pieces protruded from their backs, capable of hauling a dizzying array of equipment they were called upon to, and were each nearly half their height. Jet packs, inertial dampeners and thrusters dug into spots of their legs and midsections. On their waists, large grey angular belts contrasted with the onyx and held up attached boxes full of stuff only each of these black ops agents knew of; all banned in the law.

Of course they didn’t care about the rules of war, they were here to protect and serve their nation by whatever means available: From pathogens to miniaturized nukes, anything could be contained within on them, their superior wouldn’t bat an eye at their usage, and that is exactly why they had arrived uninvited to this war of attrition that was heating up by the second.

Micah took a moment to look outside, to the blue spiral of the hyperspace dimension; new reports from hyperspace lane watchers around this galactic cluster had detected a ship-a ship whose signature was the stuff of legend, who’s exploits could be compared to the unrivaled Republic herself. Such tales were on the verge of myth, but now, everyone who had heard the rumors on the ship figured they were about to find out what those bastards were about. All aboard knew they would have the honor of driving the steak through the hostile heart.

Setting those thoughts aside, Micah watched the thick diamond that was the Amur was in perfect formation with Republic and Barca.

“Shuttle is ready to board, sir.”

“Affirmative, embarking.” McNeal responded to the girl, doing as he said he would. The black ramp lowered from its rear, its stairs manifesting as billions of nanites darted to their positions and locked into place across the floor, beckoning the .

Micah sat down in the seat to his immediate right as he took two steps up the flight at once. He simply sat for a few minutes, contemplating the battle that would push them past their limits, beyond even those earlier today. He thought about killing… him, his current nemesis, his rival commander. He knew he was the among the greatest his nation had to offer.

And he wouldn’t hesitate to gift his enemy a warriors death.

The legion of four of the most dangerous humans of their class, and their national leader sat in silence in their supersized seats, the smallest being for the two women of the group. Both of the sharp hourglass physiques were the shortest, the two both at around five-feet ten-inches, still decent in comparison to the majority of people of this age. One of the men was slightly less built than their squad leader but just as intimidating. His height, at six-foot eight, gave him a small advantage, while the shorter man stood at over six foot, and stood at the forefront of the group.

One woman had a black cross emblazoned upon her left shoulder piece, the same was true for the tall man. The other two had massive crimson stars on the opposite plates.

Their angular helmets were black besides their deep green visors in the shape of a hooked letter T. Black shoulder plates were welded over the black suits, gray plates of differing sizes covered all sections of their unique, developed physiques. Their pants and chests all having some variation of the armor their leader usually wore.

Micah was thrown a Kalashnikov styled rifle, enhanced beyond the already lethal standard issue version, one which he graciously caught with a single hand. He inspected it, seeing the serial number, recognizing exactly what this was from his time inspecting the factories in the months before.

It was a recently designed, even more recently produced AN-550X. A marvel of weapons manufacturing in the sixth millennium. All but one carried the same thing on their backs; the gun was a whole foot longer than the one the standard AK-208’s of the infantry. On top of the modification to size, the black ops agents of seven-seven-four, including Micah himself, had mounted eight-times P-ZIP-M optics with offset mounted Akonbra red dot sights upon their weapons, along with suppressors and side infrared lasers. Last but not least, there were energy canisters in the form of a rectangular magazines locked into the weapons belly, each lined with dim white light.

Micah was thrown something else, this time by the shorter man. The pistol he was thrown was caught by just his left hand, and as he slowed the ten-pound down, he put his in his index finger and twirled it around violently like a gunslinger of times before even his birth. He chuckled, adjusting himself to the weight and stowing the gun away on his side.

One thing was certain to all preparing for the coming assignment who caught a glimpse of the five…

These were the reinforcements.

Micah spoke up as he finished examining the gear thrust upon him.

“How was the mission to 0-8712?” The Marshall asked just as three took a seat, perfectly parallel to each other in the bay. “Heard it was found well enough, yea?” he leaned in as spoke.

“KSSHHHKALAAASKSH” the load reply came from the speakers of the team leader, the garbled code only capable of being read by the one it was spoken around

“I see, Major, we will leave it be for now, you have permission to disengage the precautions.” Micah indirectly ordered with minced words as he already grew tired of the sound after just one usage today.

“Yes sir,” The mans voice instantly replied as he took his seat in the subconscious formation. “We had received the transmission and picked up some inteligence…” he hesitated, gathering his words before beginning his speech, “there were hostiles on that planet and they forced our hand.”

“You eliminated them all, correct?” The Marshall replied without any emotion, cold as ice, and invested into the on the fly debrief he was getting. “And tell me what their intel states, please.”

“Affirmative, sir,” the team leader restarted, “and they are redoubling their, ‘probing attacks’, as they call the events of today.” the revelation wasn't even the biggest of the conversation. “On top of all this, they are sending an even larger ship, one we saw the schematics and decrypted them with the help of the Office, it’s just that…” he prepared for his final line. He sighed, “It’s shields dwarf everything besides the Russians capital ship, we’re not even sure the dreadnaught could stand up to it for two minutes, sir.” He sighed once again.

“Hmph, mildly disconcerting.” Micah’s reply was like a wave of coolness upon the five souls. “Then we will have to have Republic face the threat head on, she's the only fully operation battlecarrier in the A.O.” Micah replied, cold as ever. “Relay that to control, Pilot.” Micah called out nonchalantly, his mind remembering that Umbru surely already knew of these things, and could plan a superior course of action.

“Already did, sir.” The woman replied.

“Nemesis will be coming out of hyperspace accompanied by Osiris and Riot, High Marshall.” After standing up, connecting to a database, and preparing her tablet, the woman with a black cross on her shoulder alerted her peers.

“Hammer will emerge when solidified.” A man shouted out from top of the hangar.

Micah absorbed the knowledge and got comfortable in his seat, looking to his left and right to the men and women he had trained before leaning back. The ramp to the shuttle ascended, signaling the mandatory checks were completed and the bird was ready for her mission at a moment's notice.

It had been days since he last slept as he didn’t require all that much, his type were engineered for proficiency in command, endurance, and mammoth strength.

A iron mind must have its sleep though, and with hours before the arrival, he figured he would catch some hours. He relaxed his eyelids, his eyebrows and then his scarred, stoic face as he breathed in.

——————————————————

Nine hours later, the fleet was ready for the battle.

Micah woke up as the voice in his ear called his name for the third time. He mentally recapped the plan of action, every detail he could within a few seconds, and then yawned. Annoyed, he sat upright in his seat, licked his metal teeth, and used those weapons to readjust the toothpick barley hanging from his lower lip, and finally responded.

“Affirmative, this is your High Marshall to all call signs, hold as Nemesis drops, we’re approaching the target zone.”

“Understood, Marshall!” Umbru replied.

Just as he finished, he arose from his seat, taking notice to the now reopened door in front of him. Looking out the shuttle, he saw in the harsh yellow light entire batallions of men boarding row upon row of this miles long hangar. He knew exactly what was going on in the minds of each of these soldiers, especially the youngest.

As a few squads of men approached his shuttle, the leader realized how much of it was empty, and how much of it was filled with gear.

“You four, get to the shuttles armory. Load our shit up we got some marines coming embarking with us.” Micah shouted to the silent warriors.

No words were spoken back, but the hasty steps of the four spoke for them. Micah watched the squad disappear for a minute and return with heavy duty backpacks, molded into shapes that fit their armored backsides. The five then loaded up the items laid around seats into the containers and allowed their magnets to clamp on the hundred and thirty pound sacks.

Micah turned back after he had finished adjusting his rifle to the new block on his six and waved to the incoming marines. They approached and got in a single file line, each divided by their Sergeant, who lead the squad to their assigned seating chart.

“Excuse me, Marshall sir,” the naval infantrymen’s senior officer spoke up, his voice catching McNeal’s attention.

“Ah, good Colonel, what suicide mission does control want my Gladiators to go on now?” Micah cut to the chase. The other four clad in black looked towards their leader they had sneakily gotten behind. The poor soldiers had no idea what he was referring to, for once in their life.

“Ah, of course.” The Colonel maintained eye contact as he started his relay of information that may or may not be necessary. “Central Command liaisons aboard Republic wanted those four to help hold that derelict before Hammer Fleet was scheduled to intervene in the battle.” The summary continued. “Basically they wanted the detachment to… go in with Nemesis, and be the first ones to rein-“ the colonel stopped as his Commander in Chief put a finger up.

“Understood, Umbru said this was likely… should’ve listened.” Micah started, cranking his neck back to the four warriors, still silently communicating through their helmets, deliberating the fact they were kept in the dark by high command of all people. Not upset at all to be on another mission-it was their life, the only they’ve known, but still. “Has Project Nzuri been transported to this ship?”

“Yes, sir, been here the whole time.” The squads leader, the Major, replied sharply. “Where will we be going?”

“Hmm…” Micah raised his eyebrow as overheard a few marines whisper something under their breath, something about this being a pointless tug of war. “BOYS-I do not hear any doubts…?” He turned his head back, looking just over and around the marines locked into their harnesses. When silence once again reigned, he sighed, and continued his previous talk.

“We five shall be the first in, and last out,” Micah reiterated to make a point-They were here to protect their state and the Republic’s principles, not demonstrate them.

“Now let’s roll.”

Giving a nod to the Colonel as he continued to prepare his marines aboard the shuttle, the five, clad in black nanite, marched in a single file to a seemingly empty part of the wider hangar.

“Behold, boss-the one and only, so far at least.” The Major spoke out in a regal tone. “The Nzuri,” he turned around as he de-cloaked the ship. The missile bays first became visible, Micah backing up upon realizing how close the lids were to his face. Then the entire thing, a flying wing, popped into view, the transparent coating ceasing and its major components like polkadots, springing up with gray digital camouflage over them. One could make out individual nanites as they scattered around, taking their place around the huge miniguns, rocket launchers, and point defense rifles dotting the hull. The engines at the rear of the craft finally emerged, revving up and creating a streak of blue behind the ship, finishing the process.

“Heh, the smart assess at research and development really outdid themselves, right Marshall?” One of the female squad mates blurred out.

“Damn right,” Micah responded. “A trial by fire is what we have to specialize in today dickheads.”

“Sure have a way with words, sir,-“

Before she could finish her remark, the room blew up with sound, alerting everyone to be ready at a moments notice for the order.

“C’mon guys, that’s our queue to link up with Republic.” Micah rushed forward, pushing a button with his elbow that opened the Nzuri’s stairway. His subordinates followed him inside and hustled to the positions, perfectly manning the experimental starship.

“Get guns online, you two!” Micah pointed two fingers at the tallest man and the shirted woman of the crew he had. “Link missiles to my interface, get the inertial dampeners online, remove the precautions, NOW!” He ordered, knowing these soldiers had the expertise necessary, after all, he had taught them as much in their rookie years. “Gunners, shield power is diverted, keep watch on our ass!” Micah jumped into the seat, watching as the hangar lights turned from their canary glow they once had to the pure white, even the shadows seemed to had gotten brighter.

“Gatov, Marshall! the tall man’s Russian voice coming after four distinct switches had been flipped throughout the ship, as the tasks had been completed, the guns chambered, all systems on Micah’s interface lit up.

“Initiating final systems sweep.” From left to right, Micah reset the screen and watched as It lit up once again.

Light green flashed in front of his black eyes, ”Life support is functional - one hundred percent efficiently, High Marshall, McNeal”. The systems artificial voice was shut off as Micah didn’t care enough to listen to it again.

“Life support is up and running, moving onto Nexus,” the Marshall continued his scans for anomalies, “right… NOW!” A red light lit up next to the green flashing, and turned blue, meaning the central artificial network that controlled the nanites in the cold void of space was active, and ready for the beating that was undoubtedly about to happen.

“Systems online, moving onto K-500 missile systems triple-take in-.”

Micah cut off one of the girls who confirmed the systems check. “Negative-negative! Nemesis is falling out of hyperspace, we have one minute to link up before we have to do it solo. Take a seat and prep for a rough flight.”

The four super-soldiers did what they were told, each sitting down and lowering the metal harnesses over their shoulders and chests. Once the seats nanotechnology adjusted to the frame of each new operative McNeal put the petal to the metal and the ship darted forward into the void of space.

The loan hum of the engine was entirely unique to him, he chuckled and pushed a white button with the word ‘Auto’ on it. It’s meaning was clear and he reached over, pushing it just as the artificial pilot readjusted the course, steering the ship near around every other member of the fleet in their way.

“Major, catch-“ Micah tossed a small tablet he pulled from the interfaces right hand side to the squad leader, who plucked it out of the air. “Solidify the coordinates manually with reps’ fleet jump capacitor, were already in position to warp as close to the H.V.T as possible.”

“Done, sir, we’re hooked up,” the Major replied after some seconds, “shall we continue with the checks?”

“No it’s too late for that, all necessary systems to get us there have been ran through, keep the diagnostic up though.” Micah replied, catching tablet thrown back at him.

“This is Republic all ships linked to Nemesis,” across the fleet, a single voice boomed over the speakers and bridges, “we are falling out of hyperspace now.”

Just as he finished, the blue light dimmed, out of the windows, the five crewmen witnessed the dreadnaught they were on fade into obscurity, comrades speeding past them to continue their idling in the dimension beyond their own. Micah’s was one of the last ships to complete its descent, and as such he stared at the already unraveling fight before him.

From the hangars located in her concaves, swarms of drones, linked to the A.I of Republic, emerged and streaked towards the now launching first waves shuttles of marines, themselves hauling ass towards the derelict. From the hundreds of destroyers and cruisers, untold thousands of ships rapidly launched and assumed every kind of position, from defense of their individual ships to an armada from each and every squadron seamlessly coming together to form a web of craft so dense the Nal’ enemies couldn’t penetrate.

“Remain seated soldiers, we’re going in.” Micah stated.

The stealth ship identified a hangar in the derelict warship compatible for landing. Micah disengaged autopilot, and reactivated the cloak of his vessel. Just then, over his radio a broadcast filled the entire ship once again.

“This is Lieutenant Colonel Idrissa-how much longer!?” His French accent screamed at the ships he had just been informed were coming to his aid. “My men are ninety-percent dead or dying-“ an explosion and the iconic gunfire of a machine gun followed by the high pitched squeals of a dying Naljuc warrior filled the intercom for nearly ten seconds before his voice came back. “The hangars have fallen-” another wave of rounds whistled by his mic, “we hold- dauhhh!- we hold six percent of the ship, we haven't five minutes-!“ his radio chatter died out as Micah made up his mind.

“Major, take the wheel, get us there, pronto,” Micah swung his seat around, killing his momentum and running to the rear of the ship. The Major picked up the pace and hopped in the seat, quickly arranging the buttons and hitting the accelerator,

“How fast sir?”

“Cloak up and activate W.E.P, bring us into the closest hangar you can, get there in two minutes max!” His voice faded as he signaled to the three who remained seated to follow him to his destination. He could already hear the dreaded thud of Nal’ lasers and the comforting ejection of human weapons of mass destruction in the forms of missiles being launched in the hundreds of thousands, the first salvo was here.

And this wars first true battle had just started.

The muscle car of a spaceship revved once again and sped faster than any ship in the galaxy towards Idrissa and the remnants of the marines entrusted to guard the ship with their lives. The Major pushed the prototype thrusters to the limit as the hidden ship ran through allied and enemy alike the closer she got.

Micah stumbled as he walked, the irresistible shaking that signaled a detonation of a Naljuc missile close to the cloaked starship making his blood boil. He took a look out a window him and his companions currently ran by, and sure enough, the first squadrons of enemy fighters had started to envelop the warship they were running to

“Are we not invisible dammit!?” Micah shouted into his mic.

“Heh, yes sir we are, take a look behind us!” Came the reply.

Micah, once he arrived at the back of the stealth transport, sat the accompanying women and man down.

“Pull up the virtual window directly behind us, Uzuri,” Micah ordered one of the women, curious why no more missiles had detonated near them, and why the hum of enemy engines got further away every second. His curiosity was soon quenched however, once the virtual window was opened and the wall turned into projected hue of which all could see through, he found his answer.

“Admiral Umbru ordered for the fleet to arrive earlier than expected… how surprising.”

Kenyatta and the rest of Hammer and Osiris fleet had waited only a few minutes before joining their brothers and sisters in battle. The Admiral had given them the word, and together the combined fleet would engage the enemy Titan’s and the expected ‘super-battleship’ of theirs as the intelligence agencies had coined it.

Micah closed the screen, took a seat and put over his shoulders and big chest the metal cover that would prevent him from flying around.

“We’re coming inside the hangar in twenty seconds! The landing zone has been cleared of our men!” The Major warned.

“No worries,” Micah looked at each of the soldiers before him, all hands on their guns. All visors were pointed towards the ramp that would lower and second now. The metal harnesses rose, followed by the bodies of the four super-soldiers as they touched down on the hangar floor.

“Thirty seconds before they find out we’re here, soldiers.” Micah taped a button on the wall next to him, lowering the ramp with the prepositioned nanites for emergencies. “Get down here, we’re gonna burn these mofuckers’ alive…” he reinserted the energy magazine he was thrown so long ago and, with a loud ching exiled the built up heat, ensuring he wouldn’t go without a single bolt.

The last squad member arrived only after a few moments, his back heavy with all sorts of guns: He chucked a whole RT-491 Machine gun to his taller counterpart, filled with thirty-ounce bullets. Next up we’re the two female super soldiers, both handed same rifles their Marshall had, the kay-five-fifty, to which they loaded, held halfway over their shoulders and stepped out of the ship onto the ground before them.

“Let’s do this sir.”

With all of the soldiers outside of the still cloaked ship, all the Nal’ soldiers in the cluttered, bright red hangar slowly started to realize what had happened. And they looked towards the five killers with respect and with fear, hatred and envy.

It was time to fight.

Micah took a step forward, and looked back. He psychologically ordered nanites to formulate a partial helmet, protecting his neck, heads ass, and his face, minus the mouth. Even his companions in battle knew he would need his teeth eventually in this close quarters combat.

“Weapons hot!”

All hell broke loose again. A new front in this run-red with blood galaxy opened. Micah lifted his weapon and and let his eyes lock onto the orange bolts that tore through a Nal’ troopers windpipe, it abandoning its plasma pistol and grabbing his neck. His knees buckled and as his body hit the floor after a few seconds, and then the bleeding started, followed by another, and another similar example, this time he burnt the kneecaps off a grunt, letting his torso fall as he waved his stumps in silent suffering. Micah unloaded ten more rounds into his head before swinging back around expelling the heat from his gun once again. He jogged forward, continuing to cut into the disorganized enemy forces, dodging plasma whenever stray shots became a threat.

In his periphery he identified a banzai charging grunt, and lowered his rifle to give him the confidence to approach. Micah grabbed him with his left hand and crushed its scrawny midsection using sheer grip strength alone. As it screamed in pain, parts of his lungs and the core muscles started convulsing.

‘Interesting’ Micah thought, ‘wonder what we can find about you once we get one of you tyrants… oh well.’

Killing off that thought, he continued squeezing until its skin started to tear, and then he let the thing go. He kicked will all his rage, only a few of the beings intestines keeping the body in one piece as it’s stomach and entire muscles lay stretched and bruised up on the cold flood.

The two women advanced side by side, each lighting up a doomed soul in front of them as they surged ahead of the three men in accordance with their shock training. As both of their guns overheated, their chemistry showed as the one with a cross on her shoulder plate feigned a knife slash, ducked under the counterstrike and performed a judo throw on the enemy, pulling apart the downed hostiles jaw off its hinges while her battle buddy utilized her sharp elbows to chop up his limbs up until she saw ligaments.

They proceeded to jump over the dead bodies not so slowly mounting and side step in opposite directions what can only be described as a barbaric Nal’ ogre that tried to tackle one of them. They gave him the same treatment and worse. Not content with leaving his limbless, they stabbed into the giants rib cage, destroying his natural armor with several pounds from their sharp alloy and dug their metal fingers into his lungs. Stoping his breathing as they jerked them around and dug into them more.

The two were about to move onto the next kill as they saw his biology regenerating before their eyes, one girl didn’t hesitate to ram a grenade down his blood-spewing mouth. She grabbed his pitiful form, shielding her exposed self from the incoming plasma before punting him like a football at a cluster of enemies on the second floor of the hangar. He cried out in regret more than pain for his brothers to get out the area. Both women rolled to the many Naljuc crates dotting their battle space , accelerated by their jetpack modules. They looked at eachother from opposite sides of the fleshy blood pool and nodded.

One pushed a button on her wrist and a red orb of death expanded from the warriors mutilated mouth, vaporizing everything in his vicinity. The red orb of death dissipated eventually, and from between the woman came the three men who had finished brutalizing the Nal’ resistance the two female shock troops had cut off. They charged up the center, their heavy armor easily tanking the pistol fire.

The tall Russian let out a grunt as he let his RT do the talking, the bullets mowing down hordes, the power of the hypersonic rounds severing legs and arms every millisecond as he rushed up to the base of the stairway, covering his squad mates mutually. His gun clicked and before he had time to ask a new pair a drums were thrown his way. He let out a scoff and continued his assault. The Major on the other hand used his red machete to hack into the small weak points of the Naljuc armor sets, catching necks and abdomens any type of way he could given the seconds between each kill.

“This is Felix, control indicates enemy numbers in hangars are dropping significantly, has the first wave arrived?”

“Affirmative,” Micah delivered a mighty kick to an enemy trooper who charged at him, his shin rupturing the hostiles liver and causing him to to puke blood. Micah observed him grab his stomach and fall to the side before raising his rifle, glancing through the red dot and popping him then and there. Returning to his mic he spoke up to the valiant commander of the holdout. “Special forces are en-route to your location. Be advised; the first waves are in ten hangars locking down all exits before counterattacking inward.”

“Copy, we will hold.”

The gunfire on his side of the mic made Micah make jump with excitement, shouting at his comrades who had mopped up the last Nal’ soldiers in their hangar to follow after him into the belly of the ship. They passed hallway after hallway of men and many more aliens stinking, the humans finished off any stragglers they could find, reuniting them with their comrades in the afterlife.

The five ran and darted down sector after sector, climbing leftover ascension ropes from previous humans who had fallen back and advanced in this day long tug of war. The fumes from chemical and biological weaponry of the humans made it hard t for any man to breathe, but Micah wasn’t any other man. Thinking of it, his nanite armor reorganized his helmet’s material into his shoulder pauldron, leaving his entire head exposed, but he wasn’t any other soldier. After minutes of sprinting through the grey hallways filled with fire and remains at maximum speed, the familiar gunfire returned.

All the soldiers stopped and huddled around the Russian, who pulled out a virtual map that soon synced to the one provided by the artificial network of ‘control’.

“Naval infantry are infiltrating into the remaining hangars, Marshall,” the Russian started, “Umbru directed the militant kap-i-tans to link up and then attrit them, we have to simply hold the control room until they scatter.”

Micah nodded, “Alright soldiers, you heard the plan.” He couldn’t comprehend the level of violence he and everyone else would endure though, yet. “Fall in on me to the control room.”

The team ran to the room, the remaining few seconds marked by the near cave in of a wall caused by the slamming of a Nal’ ogre into it.

“Looks like we’re on the edges of this quiet sector… keep moving.” Micah told his gang as they finally opened the door that lead to the ad-hoc headquarters. As he rammed the door open with his shoulder, heads turned and met his eyes as he demanded to know the whereabouts of the officer. The wounded and the coordinators desperately keeping every front’s delaying action intact pointed to his right, towards a single door.

Micah looked back at his team, walking up to the automatically opening door and running through it. The sounds peaked as he rounded a corner with the number ‘6-1’ in black ink, covered by blood caught his eye. He ran by it and continued down to the massive auditorium sized bottlenecks seeing the cruelest action of the day.

Just as he approached the last giant gate, it was blown off its hinges, a hundred men retreated through it, firing back with all manner of torn-off-the-hinges chain-guns, rifles, blasters and railguns. The spec ops soldiers waited for the men to get through, the last ones uplifted, impaled and cast aside by a giant Naljuc specimen.

“Get to the second floor, take out his eyes if you can.” Micah barley granted his operators time to process the order before he jumped into the fray, running headfirst into multiple comparatively tiny Nal’ soldiers before stabbing them all in the chest them like a kebab with his blade. He let their hearts stop on their own as he took a position in the direct front of the group of men, the dented walls releasing hundreds of pillars and electrical wires onto the floor created artificial cover that dotted the scarred landscape.

Micah plucked a fully automatic shotgun from the ground, crouch running behind a collapsed pillar standing upright in the middle of the battle as more plasma surrounded him.

“FIND COVER”

A black heavy repeater fired its green and gold rounds into his soldiers lines, condemning an entire platoon of Africans to be made into mush by the Sonic rounds as they sprinted into the hidden prepared position in an counterattack. He brung the gun closer to him, using it to shield his unprotected eyes from the blood getting on him. As he looked around to his left, his narrow cover being chipped away. A ditch was formed in the ground and was flooded with his own soldiers, preparing a counterstrike with a heavy duty MRPG-10, and were then vaporized by a yellow explosion that sent a plume of charred metal, energy and remains up to the ceiling to rain upon the survivors.

Micah quickened his breathing and subconsciously flinched when he felt a warm half of a purple lung slam into his side, the windpipe still attached contracting in the last breathing pattern of its deceased owner. His eyes widened as he looked for an opening on his right, finding an entire company of men running to a concave in the ground that was midway between him and the Nal’ fighters who were counter charging themselves into no mans land.

Micah reached his hand outward, “Captain! Hal-” he said as the soldiers ferociously fought until they were thrust into the mouth and gobbled alive by a beast that dwarfed even the tallest humans in height. The weak moans and croaks of the soldiers chomped at hip breaking angles made the High Marshall lose it. His face contracted as he witnessed the men’s legs picked and thrown onto the floor. He exited cover, ducking and running under the plasma still mowing down hordes of his own men and jumping into a roll behind and enemy position, taking them out before infiltrating. He then pulled out of his sack a cluster of explosive charges, and got to work in the best way he knew how.

“Heavies, i’m going in. Get some fucking ordinance here!” Micah shouted into his mic to his special operators, sniping as many high value targets as they could.

“Affirmative, hammer-down” the Russian heavy weapons specialist replied, hoisting his machine gun and pulling out a compact grenade launcher from his pack. He and his squad leader jumped down from the second level onto the first floor, crushing human bodies beneath their feet. The duo reinforced the current ‘line’ and began bombing advancing Nal’ reinforcements. Every single enemy that made it even a tad bit far was scratched and bleeding profusely with muscles slashed open from their suicidal determination, pushing their thin bodies through blown crevices and debris fields to get to the currently most contested room of the galaxy.

Charging from one of the dozens of large and small breaches through the walls, a group of Nal’ had their earpieces light up all at once. They turned slowly towards the two gladiators, registering them and then making their move. The two super-soldiers looked around them, their position was basically a huge metal foxhole with dents all around it.

“Here we go…” A Sergeant called out. No soldier needed to be told twice, groups of Privates occupied the holes and begun organizing an effective defense, the Naljuc regulars and mindless drones charged ahead, from cover to cover they never ceased their relentless moving as white tracers and bullets filled the air around them. The horde kept its advance up, every minute they rose in numbers, creeping forward as the combat entered a new stage. This room the size of a gymnasium had been worn down by explosions, and its walls kicked down so hard that even neighboring corridors and rooms became the new battlefront. This place expanded tenfold into a mishmash of rooms that covered the length of a football field, and the humans would hold this new kind of front at all cost.

The machine guns and grenades kept shutting down enemy attempts that never ceased, disintegrating hundreds in a single attack. That all changed when the beast had returned from its meal, ready to eat more men, it approached, it now wielding steel pillars in its two real and four cybernetic arms, seemingly rammed into its core and connected to its nervous system without care for pain. It squealed as it pulverized an entire fire team, its feet crushing all their equipment into dust. It finally found its primary target, smiling at the pitiful attempts to blow its limbs off, impervious to all fire directed at it.

As it continued to crush friend and foe alike, the Marshall was already behind enemy lines, neutralizing as many heavy repeaters he could by placing times charges on them and the fallen walls they stood on. Finally, his stealthy mission was completed and he fell back to the primary line his gladiator’s and infantrymen were about to call their grave.

“Explosives placed, blowing this sh-“ Micah started as he jumped into the most contested metal trench he could find just as the remote detonator was ripped out of his hand by a freakish Nal’ and snapped in two. The ugly soldier laughed, confident in his little victory as electrified metal and debris continued to fall upon the prone Micah, but then stopped once his neck was grabbed by the black hand and crushed mercilessly. Rage consumed him and his voice and quick commands to soldiers around him fighting just as desperate rose to be heard over even the combat going on around him. His leg was stuck under multiple beams placed on him by enemy drones working as a hive mind as they attempted to grab his arms and his still recovering body.

If those bombs didn’t go off, three super-soldiers, the best of the dark continent, ascended to become the ‘world of gold’, would shortly die aboard this alien warship. A terrible loss of capability and manpower

“ILLANGA-SHOOT EM’ BOMBS FOR FUCKS SAKE WOMAN!!!”

“Relax.” Illanga, one of the super-soldiers on the other side of his radio angered him. She swiftly attached a dart launcher to the underside of her rifle and ionized it. She used her shoulder as a rest, leaning over the railing of the second floor and aiming down.

The whistle of death left a white trail in the noxious air, and hit true, the quiet beeping continuing for a few seconds before the boom..

That… is when all hell truly broke loose.

All at once, dozens of men who had failed to activate their feet’s gravitational stabilizers stayed in the air, following as the floor bellow buckled and caved underneath their own. The unarmored Nal’ bodies struggled to cope with the constant impacts, the field of battle crushing hundreds of combatants on all sides by the time it was halfway done.

Micah grabbed two enemy soldiers from midair and put them on his shoulder, and as the stop came, his body weight cracked the armor and ribs of the two shits beneath him, instantly killing them as he looked around for his own men. He spotted one falling, enduring, but bound to fall on his head in another crash or two. Micah’s jet engines in his legs flared up, propelling him as another screech assaulted his ears and caught him.

“Thanks comman-“ the young man started.

”Ground yourself Sergeant!” Micah demanded, yelling over the chaos around them. The Sergeant obeyed, lifting his bloodied glove to a button on his armored head that gently attached his hands, arms and legs to the ground, ensuring only mild discomfort in the remaining series of falls.

Looking down as his jet packs kept him up, Micah got thrashed into a wall by a falling metal beam hitting him in the side. The horrid screeching of metal sharpening metal ceased as the falling level finally lost its momentum, settling down on a floor it failed to breakthrough.

Of course, the humans started their rise almost immediately. “Everyone!” One called out, “ugh… someone get control on the line, tell them we-“

“They already know.’.” Lt. Colonel Felix Idrissa called out from the ruble, reaching a hand towards a brother on the ground. “The boys say they are only picking up a few hostile life forms with us, who they are is a different talk.” As if on queue with the Colonels musings, the Naljuc giant awoke, unharmed and hangry.

It approached the group of survivors, determined to get-back for all its dead brothers. McNeal stopped himself right in its tracks, looking it dead in the eye before jumping up once again. He threw up his legs and let his thrusters carry him out of striking range, then changing his course, barreled towards its face and hitting it with an iron right. The beast reared its head as it recovered again, using its steel clubs to swing at the air wildly before a concentrated burst of machine gun fire finally caught its eye. It let out yet another guttural yell as it picked its right optic out its socket and ate it whole, giving the Russian soldier a solid shot at its other eye. He took it and fired everything he still had in his mag after the fall, blood splurging on the floor with every round that made contact until the beast whipped around and punched an entire hole in the new wall the humans now found themselves in, running away like a wounded dog.

“Comrade Marshall, request permission to pursue, we have the-“ the man called to his Marshall before he was interrupted.

“Hold that thought,” Micah rises his finger as he turned his head to his officer, reloading his rifle after he took part in the bloodbath, “Idrissa, take the men and scale to the nearest entrance to the main corridors,” Micah ordered. “I will take a force to kill that bastard.”

“It will be done, sir.” Idrissa replied curtly.

Micah walked up to some survivors of the crash who were unharmed, reading them and scanning them for injuries.

“You three, with us.” He raised his hand and beckoned a trio of enlisted men to fall in behind him. They did as they told, and the Ivan followed behind them all.

”Fatass didn’t even bother to pinch his vein or somethin’.” The five walked through the gaping hole and followed the blood trail left behind by the long gone hell spawn.

The Russian chuckled after a few seconds. “Da… they never do.”

The men walked across the dents in the floor, keeping a steady pace. After walking for several minutes they came across a three way path, one which had a clear right way, and stopped behind their leader. Micah looked down to the black floor to see a grunt on the brink of death, his blade in the skull of a human it was trying to eat, and stomped on his head.

His enhanced senses picked up the winters-old must that moved with the brutes everywhere they went. His nostrils flared and he breathed out, realizing his prey was ripe for the taking he turned around to his five men. He kneeled down and stuck his hand in a pool of blood, smelling it wiping his arm off.

“Tell me your names.”

“Private First Class, Gure, Hi-“ the man known as Gure was interrupted by his squad mate, who laughed slightly and tapped him on the shoulder.

“We call him Gold, I’m Corporal Odesi, and that quiet one with the black snake face tatt we call Specialist Xhosa.” Odesi proclaimed with a smirk on his face, matching well with his war wary eyes. Miah shook each of their hands with his relatively untainted one, and returned to the mission.

“You will refer to me and my fellow super-grunt here as High Marshall and Naval Commander, or sir, you understand?”

“Sir, yes sir!” was the reply from everyone.

“Good,” Micah lead the team to cover the corner right in front of the beast, “Me and Xhosa will distract the brute for as long as possible, you three will be set up here waiting for any chance it concedes, simple as that, understood?

“Affirmative.”

“Let’s get this done,” Micah turned his head at Xhosa and nodded, turning the wall as he raised his rifle to his shoulder. The beast must’ve smelled them and he rose to his full height and roared and picked up steel beams.

“Come here you fuck!” Micah yelled as the beast charged him, Micah jumped with his thrusters once again and latched onto the back of its throat, slashing and shooting into it as the beast struggled to stay standing. Micah punched its back as hard as he could, but was thrown off and landed on the ground on his stomach. He shouted, screaming for Xhosa to shoot the thing in its legs, to which he did. On top of the bullets coming from the semi automatic marksman rifle and Micah’s renewed effort to chop off its leg, the first victory was finally scored as the beast tried to kick Xhosa back. Xhosa jumped through the air to weave the limb and sent a final round through the air as the beast kicked madly. It lost its balance and fell to the floor, using it’s good leg as a shield to take the waves of rounds now penetrating his skin, yelping helplessly as the noose around his life tightened.

“Shoot off the other leg!” Micah called over the com just as he jumped on top of the beast, his teeth gritted as he started to beat the thing bloody. Right hook to the body, left jab and then more rounds to the body by his brothers in arms he continued desperately trying to kill the strong one. The three men in reserve approached, spraying hundreds of rounds into the beasts liver and legs, weakening its attempts to knock their Marshall off. It was successful in knocking him off despite all odds, and tried to punch a hole through the wall, but was beat to it when Micah cocked back and broke his elbow with the full weight of his five hundred pound body and it’s armor system.

The beast lay back , still blocking with its shattered arm as Micah and the Russian super soldier jumped on its chest once again.

“Let us finish this!” He screamed as the two started stomping and punching the beasts ribcage as the infantrymen continued to blast at any opening they could into its sides and ass. The brute was finally meeting its deserving end as the men finalized their barbaric assault, almost happy for the brutes last gasp of life.

But just as the brute laid down its head, it regenerated nearly all its wounds and its flesh reappeared and connected itself again. It stood, pushing Micah and the Russian off of it as it again grabbed its now bent steel beams from the ground. It roared in fury and charged the backed up men, determined to reclaim its pride, decimated by the events of today when it was forced to retreat from these puny men.

“Get back men!”

It focused on Micah, who side stepped the first swing, but was caught by the second and sent flying into a nearby wall. His left arm and several fingers were definitely broken, though with the adrenaline in his bloodstream he didn’t feel the pain but the will to finish the fight and return this ogre to the pits of hell. He flew out of the steel grave and onto the ground and pressed his attack once again.

Odesi and Gure, or Gold, had been emptying magazine after magazine into the beast the entire time with no small amount of close calls. Their capacity was dwindling after the few minutes of taxing firefighting and they were getting nowhere. Right after their Marshall was hit, Gold almost received a fatal blow himself as a stray metal beam was kicked up by the bastard himself.

“Look out man!” Odesi uttered as he shoulder charged Gold from the flank, catching him off balance and firing at the beasts hand as best he could.

“Appreciate that brother,” Gold responded softly and reached a hand out, to which his battle buddy generously accepted and helped him up. The duo ducked again as the ogre threw a beam right at them, narrowly dodging and returning fire once again at whatever they could hit.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Odesi yelled over the carnage, “High Marshall! SIR! What the fuck do we do now?!” He sweared at his superior, something his hotheaded ass could be excused for given the circumstances.

“We gotta get his fucking neck!” Micah screamed to everyone in particular as his grip was tested by him being thrashed in the air wildly as the beast tried to shake the parasite off. “TEAR HIS GODDAMN MUSCLES APART” He yelled as he kicked the visibly weakest spot of its inner thigh, forcing the beast onto one leg as he stabbed into bone and sawed through his ACL, forcing a yell and temporary paralysis as he jumped off the shin and into the ogre’s back.

Now, streams of fire concentrated on singular targets had returned, with bolt and bullet continuing to recreate their previous wounds and bring concentrated pain upon their enemy. Micah slashed and slashed and then finally bit down on the sides of his neck, severing his right eyesight with the cord cut of the nerve. Now, unable to move, the ogre finally retook his place at the bottom of Micah’s boot as he continued to bite away at it, squirming as he put his legs around the massive head, pulling out his pistol and shooting next to his teeth, chomping and blasting and pulling his way through the neck before going for the last strings of tissue that held his body together.

Its head fell to the ground with a thud, finally the beast stopped resisting. Now, not even its mutated and regenerated body twitched as Micah breathed in relief, standing in superiority over the alien. He stood on top of the fighter and spat a wad of blood of both warriors out of his mouth once and for all, his soaked titanium teeth not at all damaged.

“Let me see your canteen, Odesi. This blood is bullshit.” He coughed another clump up weakly, it getting all over his jaw.

——————————————————

“A-…understood, Admiral.” Idrissa spoke into his somehow operable mic. “Mop up operations have been finalized onboard the starship, enemy forces have been annihilated-hell one hundred percent, sir!” More words made the Colonel pause and sigh, “the whereabouts of the Marshall and his team are unknown, though all of their transponders are-,” Idrissa paused as three bloodied men re-emerged from the decks of battle below, looking up from the collapsed floor they had re-entered.

The man fidgeted with something on his chest, his radio coming to life and adjusting to the Colonels frequency.

“The Marshall is going to Republic to see through the operation.” Xhosa called out. All three men stowed their firearms on their backs and pulled out their powered ascenders. Waiting for them to give the green light, they attached their armor and shot up a hundred feet in the air, clearing level upon level as they took in the hellscape.

As they reached the top, their comrades, just as scarred and burdened in the remains of battle greeted them with a wave of applause, patting their backs and shaking their hands. It was a proud moment for Idrissa, a battle won, the first of the war, the first of many to bring down a great evil. As soon as the commotion died down, he received a transmission from High Command.

“Alright men, we have a new directive, from Admiral Umbru himself,” he began, speaking over the last remaining conversions, “we are to load up, and get back to Republic for… much needed relief. The required energy has been allocated to the ship’s systems-it is ready to leave system with haste… You have won this fight!” He croaked out the part and looked upward.

The crowd of men beat their chest and immortalized their victory with a ‘Hoorah’. Cramped in less than five percent of the ship, they had held the single most important ship in the galaxy, with little support and with absolutely no complaint. That was something worth celebrating. “Hoorah! Hoorah! Hoorah!”

——————————————————

Micah and Illanga walked through the hangar they had started their rampage in, stepping over some bodies, stepping on others that looked particularly whole. They all had forgotten since about this place, overshadowed by the subsequent hell in a cell.

They honed in on their uncloaked ship, the all-seeing camera’s detecting them and engaging complex process of lowering the ramp once again today. The ship groaned and scraped itself on before raising and lowering the ramp again, nanotech error accounted for and compensated for.

“Tech sure is new, that’s for sure.” Micah silenced himself as the ship repeated the phrase ‘Welcome, High Marshall.’ Micah turned towards his Major and sighed. “Get the engines hot and get us to the Republic, our battle isn’t over yet.”

“Understood sir,” the Major rushed ahead of his comrades, towards his assigned subsystem and got to work, leaving them to their own devices.

“Now for your arm, Marshall, follow me please.” Illanga raised her hand pointed a finger at him. He walked towards a seat in the loading bay and sat, removing the dirty nanites from his arm and looking down at his busted up limb.

“I need you to hold still, sir.” Illanga, a medic first and foremost, demanded of her leader. His arm had only gotten worse the longer it went untreated, in the armor it was protected from further damage but the solution was always meant to be temporary.

First she needed to stop, or at least slow the steady swelling of his blackening arm. Illanga did so by first pulling a magnetic patch from her bag, pressing down on its middle until she heard a crunch, and letting it expand around his unarmored left arm and clamp down softly. After, she patted down a translucent coating that was absorbed by his skin instantly, aiding and accelerating the process of healing. She waited a moment and reached in her box for the final time, pulling out a pouch full of green nanites. She opened it up and allowed the microbes to fly over and attach themselves from shoulder to nail, finishing her task and zipping her bag back up.

“Wasn’t so difficult, was it sir?” She teased, looking down at the sitting form who flexed his arm slowly in response.

“Well it stopped tingling, so-!” He got back up with a groan as his body didn’t fail to remind him how old he was getting. “Hah~ adequate.” He grabbed his com and looked the other way as the ship thrusted out of its temporary home.

“That’s all you have to say? And would you take it easy this time, society can’t just stomach images of your arms twisted like in Rio-“

“Pipe down, we’re almost to Republic already, and plus, war is a racket, these things happen on the daily.” Micah quipped back.

“Just like that book you had me read?” She sat in the seat next to him and looked up, her visor failing to hide her sentiment.

“Damn right.” Micah sat back down for the remainder of the ride to the capital ship, all the while looking through the still activated virtual windows. As he stared, he saw dozens of ships, the last ones out the infantry melee, enter the hangars of the Republic. As the transports landed and their ramps dropped, the windows system zoomed in on its own upon the men who were applauded for their win, a normal idling response when no commands were given.

As they docked, they too were greeted with a round of applause as well. Walking past the commotion of his soldiers, Micah ordered his four companions to leave him be as he marched to the ships hypersonic metro, pressing the appropriate buttons to be lifted to the bridge, and, after a few minutes, he was there.

He stopped in front of his Admiral and shook his hand with a smile, and stepped up next to him, aware of what was predicted.

“It should be any minute now that thing appears,” Micah pondered on the development that a real enemy flagship was on its way for revenge, “Luti, get the gunners organized, I’ll ensure that ship is out of here and pulled back to friendly lines.” He said, skipping back slowly.

“Affirmative, sir, on it-“ Umbru whipped his head around to the control panel before him, tapping a few buttons on the digital keyboard and beginning his check up on the countless gunnery stations and control modules on the ship.

Micah meanwhile had gone back into the bowels of the carrier, jumping down an entire flight of stairs several meters high before using his jets to slow down. He reentered back into the metro system for a short trip to the propulsion deck, where countless sailors had just finished transferring ionized energy from Republic to the relic ship. The men and women were tired, up on shift for over ten hours as of now, but still enduring. The arrival of their Marshall had bolstered their spirits and a wave of applause for their obviously injured leader brought a smile to his face.

“My brothers and sisters in arms, it is an honor,” they settled down and listened up for his following commands, “the relic is leaving as we speak, but of course as you have been informed by the hard-ass… we have an even bigger show coming our way- this “Surapadman” dickhead, we have got to get shields back up to seventy-percent in a few minutes tops or were screwed, understood sailors?”

“Sir, yes sir!” The thunderous applause caused the wartime leader to grin and admire the common soldier even more.

“Alright then. Let’s get going.”

——————————————————

“Hostile capital ships emerging from hyperspace, prepare for battle!” The Captain of Amur called out on his own mic as his ship prepared for the coming engagement.

“How many detected?! Republic’s I.S.R assets are jammed, I repeat, Republic is being jammed!” Admiral Umbru called out to his counterparts as his gunners instinctively aimed all turrets forward, awaiting the desperate struggle before them all.

There, silence reigned as every ship of the grand fleet prepared for what was to come, and they wouldn't need to wait long.

After a few seconds, the derelict alien warship with human research personnel onboard left the battle space with its escort, meaning that whatever was about to go down would be, put simply, a one on one with no sideshows. No distractions, just fleet on fleet with no excuses.

The first battle of the “Naljuc-Human War of Extermination” now reached its climax.

In the black void of space, three bangs caught every onlookers attention. In the center, a rectangular ship, gold, silver and black, mixed together on perfect harmony, slowed to a standstill dangerously close to the human battlecarrier. Her sides bristled with hangars and turbo lasers and missile tubes that stretched for kilometers, all in view of her prey. It didn’t exactly take a Naljuc analyst to identify what type of ship this behemoth was.

This Naljuc thing, could only be described as a dreadnaught, a dreadnaught that put humanities to shame by its size alone. It’s length slightly extended past Kenyatta’s and it’s width nearly matched Republic’s.

Luti was staring at death in the face, the true power of the universe, the true dominant species, in his face. In a few seconds, his training kicked in and he knew instantly what must happen in order for not just his survival, but the survival of the Lion of Africa, his ship, and the even larger battleships and battlecruisers which encompassed his fleet he was charged with protecting at all cost. He leaned over his command panel and clicked a button, screaming out an order that he rarely thought of.

“This is the Fleet Admiral; all ships, sync hyperspace coordinates to me, WE ARE LEAVING.”

Retreat, coming from him? It wasn’t something taken lightly and the entire fleet did as they were told, but not before the enemy sprung his attack. Waiting long enough, the Nal’ fleet recognized the human victory on the ancient warship and instead focused fire on their chosen slain; Republic.

AF.S Republic’s shields reactivated the moment they sensed the incoming fire, the blue hue generated and stopped the enemy salvo dead in its tracks, and immediately upon the second wave of concentrated fire, was forced to drop its shield transferring to other ships of the combined fleet, her own generator being overloaded and cooling systems nearing exhaustion.

“The hell are we this low already, Micah?!” Luti shouted from his vantage point of the bridge as the oval umbrella all across the ship condensed into a red half circle and shrank.

“The generator is overheating!” Micah screamed into his mic to the bridge as he leaned over the railing, seeing the generator spinning faster and faster, becoming redder and redder until it became violet. Every technician knew exactly what that meant and some of the most hardened sailors lost their frame.

The Republic, now forced to give up its role as fleet shield-transferee, could only rely on a thick layer of energy that hugged the hull of the ship to protect it from the cruel barrage of planet-busting firepower from his superior foe. Micah didn’t accept this as his end though, and being as he was basically the last hope for reorganizing his battered crew and getting them out, he took a deep breath, and knew what he had to do.

“Luti! Luti-listen to me!” He hollered into his mic as an explosion rocked the ship, a missile of alien origin almost broke the energy layer protecting the ship, but was stopped by the point defense systems “Get the fleet out of here! Only then can we fucking leave! That’s an order-GAH!” He yelped in pain as he was thrown by a burst of power into a fellow soldier, left arm first. When he looked up it turned out to be the squad leader of Detachment 774, armor leaking with synthetic oil from the damage control work he was assigned to just prior.

“On your feet sir!” He yelled through his helmet over the sparks ejecting from the power generator, its destruction and malfunction inevitable without relief or a cessation of use. “We have to activate the super-weapon! There is no other way!” He took his leaders hand and pulled him from the cold floor, then ran his way to the empty metro system stopping as another explosion threw him from the ground into the air.

Micah was quick on his feet, and even quicker on his hot mic. “This is the High Marshall to all starfighter squadrons, you have two minutes to disengage and return to a hangar on Republic: Protocol S.O.L has been declared.”

“This is Fleet Admiral Umbru-Republic has been suspended in a hostile tractor beam, all ships disappear into the night-“

“You cannot be serious-nobody gets left behind!”

“It has to be done, that is final-all ships link onto Amur and jump somewhere to friendly space!”

“But sir!”

“DO IT!” Micah screamed with finality on all channels.

Right as he spoke he jumped into the empty tunnel where the hypersonic train should’ve been, and flew down the hall, followed by his Major. They flew side by side at hypersonic speeds, their jets straining to keep them steady. Together they drifted into a crevice, continuing their journey of reaching the super laser before it was too late.

They threw up their legs and allowed their momentum to drain as they turned a corner and rolled to a stop. A door blocked their way forward, made of titanium with a huge sign on it saying “no entry”. But Micah wouldn’t be deterred.

“Luti, open this door for us, it leads to the-“

“Got it, now save our ass, sir!”

Suddenly the lights flickered, sparks flew and landed onto the ground before them. Umbru’s command had failed. Micah looked around for a backup generator high and low, moving towards the darkened walls and putting his hands on things that none should, such as electrical circuits he could possibly hotwire, but found none that worked.

“Power just went out down here Admiral, can you at least get the gun working?” Micah complained, knowing there were other ways to break a door down.

“It’s still operational, but you will have to use your… abilities to do the final sequence,” Umbru confirmed, “the shields are barley holding up, we are on the verge of structural failure, I can’t help you anymore than that.”

“Understood, consider it done.” Micah turned around and walked back to the doorway, but just as he finished he remembered what he told the fleet, and switched his frequency back to open coms. “Admirals, it’s been an honor, but you have to let go, though I promise we will speak again, and victory will be yours, even if I’m not by your side.”

The last Admiral still in the A.O was that of Amur. Fighting alongside the stuck Republic, the Russians were the first in this Galactic front, and now would be the last out. The Admiral had one final message though before his ship vanished into hyperspace.

”Победа будет за нами, друг мой!”

“Victory will be ours indeed my brother.” Micah replied just before their last guardian left the battle.

Now, it was them and him, his ship and the enemy ship. The two escorting Nal’ ships were obliterated in previous firing sessions, leading to the greatest running of the one’s in history of recorded warfare.

Micah got back to his task at hand.

“Seku, I just want to tell you-if this is the end-“

“I don’t like your tone, sir, now let’s save this bastion.” His Major, code named Seku all this time, cut him off, his stern determination to completing the mission and furthermore protecting his only mentor and trainer did not condone such thoughts at this time.

“You’re right, now let’s move some weight.” The two approached the titanium door for the final time, dividing the middle section between them. The sparks had steadily increased and surrounded them in a ring, but it mattered not.

Both men put their hands in the small crevices between the two doors, and pulled with all their might, their muscles and armor systems straining to surpass their maximum limits as man now manually opposed his machine. They groaned as they pulled in opposite directions, both of their hands slowly moving an inch and then a foot apart from each other. Beneath them, the scrapes of titanium scraping the floor made both men activate their silencer modules as they continued to pull with all their might. Finally, the gateway was wide enough for both men to walk comfortably through.

They barely panted at all as they marched triumphantly through the passage they had charted and approached their destination, a control panel, commanding station of the kinetic-dimensional accelerator.

“Umbru, we’re through the gate, call the firing code!” Micah yelled over the continuous sounds of beating the ship was taking, wobbling slightly as he regained his stability in the whining ship. He ran to the panel that had blinked, losing power for a second before regaining its function.

“Hold on-hold on…” Umbru paused, tapping away at his panel on the bridge before inserting his own code to override the system’s scanning and fuckery it insisted on. Finally after a pause, he repeated what he had typed.

“Five-five-eight-one”

Micah typed the digits and watched as the belly hangar ejected open and it’s panels swung loosely, barley having the power to weight itself down properly, followed by the massive double barreled world-ender itself.

“Now comes the hard part…”

“You said it sir… bash into the central control box right below you. You know what you have to do.” Umbru sent his last message before returning to his duty as Captain of his ship, leaving his Marshall to his mission.

Micah crouched and punched directly below his leg, leading to two black wires popping up from the ground and vibrating with the limited energy they were receiving. Micah grabbed both and wrapped then around his forearms before nodding to Seku, who slowly approached the control panel and tapped a button.

Micah roared, flexed and bended over as an entire reactor worth of electricity and sheer power flowed through his augmented body, never designed to receive such quantities. He gritted his metal teeth as he limped forward to see the gun starting to turn slowly and begin its final charge up, purple energy gathering at the tips of the whitened barrels slowly but surely. He barley kept his life as he looked on into space, finally appreciating his time, but knowing he had to keep up his stand and keep his eyes open a few seconds longer.

The semi-circle that was the front part of the enemy ship started to charge up at the trapped human ship, fiery orange electrifying just as bright as the African purple. Micah saw this and immediately jolted awake, standing upright and using his hands to plug the expanding electrical plugs directly into his arms, causing even more excruciating suffering but making his weapon rotate and power up faster.

Seku screamed at the top of his lungs, demanding that Micah’s hardheaded ass decouple himself to avoid certain death, but he knew better and knelt down even more, ready to die not just for his people’s life, but for the destruction of his rival.

As both the weapons reached their apex, Micah shouted through his rapidly disintegrating mic one word:

“FIRE.”

As Seku pressed the red button on the touch pad, so did their target, whose orange beam met the purple African super laser head on. And collided in a white light right between the two ships. For a second, both sides stopped firing and simply stared at the spectacle. Plasma collisions were not unheard of but this was on another level.

Micah let go of the wires, his entire body high on electricity that strung out from his purple eyes for a few seconds and watched his handiwork, falling to one knee.

What happened next was unexplainable. The two forces, upon the draining of there respective super-weapons, condensed into a shining blue ball, a twinkle in the night sky. Nothing was amiss until the anomaly expanded, and expanded into an ever expanding orb, white as a star to which sucked both ships into it, and out somewhere else entirely…

——————————————————

Local year: 1002 A.L.B

Location: Earth

The High Marshall reawakened, his helmet gathered on his head.

In vacuum.

Dazed, disoriented and confused, all he could say as the light faded and brung his visor into view was…

“Where am I.”

He simply drifted through space, obviously somewhere unfamiliar to his nation for the galaxy he stared at rung no bells. After a few minutes his visor notified him that a… scan was complete, and his autopilot would propel him towards whatever was this planet was.

“Why the hell am I in front of a planet…” his adrenaline picked up and his heart sank as the boosters turned his body around and activated, giving him a satellite view of a planet similar to his home world in his youth, before the advancement of man.

His heart quickened as he rapidly approached the planet against his will, his exterior heating up as he entered the atmosphere. He finally realized that his armor must’ve decided to embark on these rash actions because he had been knocked out for far too long. His oxygen supply must be low.

‘How am I here?’ he asked in his head. He managed to focus up in time to make a rough outline of the planet. Massive biomes covered the surface and three major continents stood out. His visor turned black and covered his face for the remainder of the entry process while his armor locked to prevent further injury to his arm. Micah closed his eyes and settled in for the ride, ready to re-enter and establish any sort of contact with his fleets as soon as possible.

His memory slowly but surely resurfaced during his fall, his mind recuperating from his electric overload even his enhanced body was not prepared to survive. As the nanotechnology finally detected wind, it’s A.I finally disabled autopilot and lifted Micah’s protective shield from the visor. Immediately Micah took off his helmet, torso armor and moved the nanites to his arms, ripping off the burning sweater beneath it and letting it float down on its own volition. He looked down, the thick layer of clouds over this early morning sector of the world still not dissipating.

He took a moment to enjoy the fresh breeze so high up, and then got to work. Micah used the his leg thrusters to do a barrel roll, scanning for life forms, and found billions of developed organisms. Deciding to see for himself, he pivoted downward and into the clouds of this world. He stayed his course despite the unexpected heaviness of the clouds and emerged on the other side, stopping midair as he took in the view before him; a giant forest was all that greeted him, with a range of mountains with a odd detail he would have to check out later.

His armor notified him of the imminent failure of his thruster systems, which had apparently spent hours keeping him in low orbit over the world and were overworked as it was. Micah knew his only option was to free fall into the greenery below. The pleasant and clean air on this world reminded him of the prettiest worlds such as New Sibgrad and Meridian, and the recently settled Latin American Collective planet of Boa Vista, a never ending forest, unharmed by mining. He entered the final part of his trip, approaching the trees only to find out there was to much water under them.

His war-torn body bounced off a branch and into a small stream, a waterfall in which he was to weak to resist any further. His eyes faded and slowly blinked as he lay, his body and armor getting a much needed cleanse. He took in a breath as the end of the waterfall fast approached him, and closed his eyes. He descended down the height and into the cold water and let himself rise back to the top, opening his eyes to see the curious fishes swimming around him.

Whatever place this was, it was serene, beautiful, beyond anything a man could fathom.

He finally was washed up on the shoreline,
drenched and looking up to the sun poking through the clouds. He took a moment to collect himself before doing the most important task that laid before him.

Contacting his soldiers.

Micah raised his right hand from his side and grabbed his comlink, readjusting its microphone and speaking.

“This is the High Marshall to all callsigns, come in?”

All he received was white noise, and all he gave was a sigh as he disengaged the thing.

He already knew damn well they were gone.

Getting up, he selected his target first; a group of strawberries on some bushes were rushed by the Marshall whose stomach growled for a meal after so long. He kneed down and gobbled the entire section up, his body making use of the minerals almost immediately, and signaling it was satisfied for the time being. Micah wiped off the juices and continued his path of survival in this new world.

Micah went back over to the fresh water his armor had scanned, kneeled and drank up an entire gallon then and there. He formulated some goggles above his eyes and noise enhancers and allowed them collapse in on him. He decided to simply walk towards the nearest form life form in his vicinity and go from there, betting on his ability to handle whatever threat it posed.

After a minute he came up on the three-headed creature, the hydra he knew all too well about actually exists, and stared daggers through the grass that separated them. Micah accepted his first chosen slain of this world gleefully and charged through the grass, walking up to the beast and removing the nantes composing his skin tight body suit, and pulling out his knife.

The beast must not have taken kindly to the cockiness of him and rushed him with one of its heads, opening its four-fanged mouth and going for the kill shot. At once Micah jumped up and caught two of the teeth with his hands and did a backflip mid-air, suddenly jerking the neck of his prey and snapping two of its teeth from its hinges, holding their green oozing forms in his hands triumphantly. The enemy was not finished yet though, and charged with the remaining two heads, which Micah ducked and caught both of their necks. His eyes widened as they suddenly gained strength and density only another killer could detect, but his nonchalant charade ended there, and he summoned sufficient power to make them collapse and yield.

All three of their heads lay on the ground, their fighting spirit robbed. Micah had no time to reflect on his handiwork as he noticed the smell of a cat, a big cat. Micah whipped around just in time to roll out the way of a slash from a mutated lion, its size dwarfing even the strongest prides in Africa, another well known mythological creature, the manticore. Micah pushed himself up and decided to try a bit harder, pulling out another knife and charging the feral cat. He put both of his knife handles together and stabbed upward in the lions mouth, the pain making it crunch down on the knife underneath, both blades coming out the other sides of its head. Micah took hold of two of its largest top teeth and formed his vice grip, tearing his snout in half and, with a yell of his own, ripping everything to the back of its head in two. Micah took a second to enjoy the overconfident animal’s suffering before whipping out his pistol and ending its miserable life, his bullet in the middle of its brain.

He retook his knives and sat over its corpse. This merely was a distraction from his primary task, and he would refuse to remain aimless, relegated to using his skills on unworthy opponents.

“This is the High Marshall to all friendly call signs; come in!”

No response.

Micah surrendered to the only option left; walking until he found something useful to reconnect himself with the fleet. He pushed himself up, re-equipping his full body armor and taking a minute to go over the scan his system had done when he slept.

‘Multiple humanoid, terrestrial life-forms detected en-mass.

Developmental Index: Equivalent Machinery to Twentieth Century.

BEWARE: Fields and aura’s of power beyond system comprehension and defying known physics reside here.

System Recommendation: Proceed with extreme caution, High Marshall Micah McNeal.’

“Too late for that, ain’t it.” Micah sighed out. Alas his system was right, he was dealing with creatures that only legends and long disproven folklore had revealed. If he knew one thing, it’s that death comes for us all, and he was no exception.

But of course, the super-soldier wouldn’t be panicked by his situation. He vowed get back to his nation, leave whatever oddly similar species here to develop on its own, they wouldn’t need to get involved with his affairs, and vice-versa.

Micah quit deliberating and looked around for the nearest settlement his visor picked up. A large city, a mountain exuding elegance with its impossible waterfall and… Middle Ages themed castle. Even more concerning was the completely foreign energy profile than anything seen in the wider universe. It was pink with some minor cracks in it, obviously a rampart protecting it from the dangers outside. It had a significant amount factories, and many differing humanoid species, all related even if distant, though his armor couldn’t give him anymore detail than that from his range. The nearest mountain in its range lay five clicks to his north-west.

He ran through the bush, around dozens of trees and over countless plants his system had been journaling relentlessly, all to the commotion that he surmised could be a quick way to signal somebody of his presence here. Jumping from a chopped down log onto a nearby tree, he prepared to give his charging thrusters a good run. He climbed to the top of a tree and looked above the greenery, readying himself.

‘Cannot fulfill imminent demands: Armor modules in energy recovery mode, High Marshall’.

‘Dammit.’ Micah thought. He knew what to do to bypass the issue though. Once again he removed the top half of his armor and undersuit, trusting his instincts on this somewhat friendly world, moving the bulk of his nanites to his legs and left arm to reduce the energy strain, and once again prepared his jump that would lead into a final jet dash. He then jumped for another reason.

“HELLO?!” A feminine voice called out to him from below to Micah, who fell off the branch and onto the grass below, feet first. His impact sent a shockwave through the ground that the woman didn’t respond to. He kept his eyes down, trying to control his rage before confronting this fool who would dare delay his mission.

“Whoever you are little lady, it is insignificant,” he started from his low crouch, “you would be wise to leav-.”

A striped, furry finger touched his chin softly and raised his head to her blue eyes . He raised an eyebrow at the woman causing these problems, who somehow had his rifle at her side.

“Ah-ah-ah,” as he gently reached for his primary weapon, still crouched before her, she put the gun behind her, flicked his face to the right, and walked the other way slowly. Micah raised himself and followed behind her, suppressing the desire to end this annoyance with his guns. She shot one of her big blue eyes at him for a moment before she caught a vine in the air and repelled down. He flipped down into the blackness below and followed the woman through the brush, determined to end this here and now.

He followed the jogging woman to a small hut,
shrouded with darkness with its door opened and slowed to a crawl. He watched as the women waited by the door that was barley large enough for him, and exited the shadows in front of her. Micah looked down at this woman-no, zebra-human mix.

He had discovered his first species of this planet.

She truly was, by all of the standards of the known sentient species of the universe, gorgeous. This zebra-woman with a small mohawk and hourglass curves that most men of his species would only dream of. Her glowing eyes and the thin cloak she wore would entice any guy into such acts he wouldn’t fantasize about. But Micah had a greater purpose; getting back to his people, and he didn’t have time or want for such things.

She pointed inside the door, to which Micah sighed and entered, but as he did he just had to ask.

“Hand me my-“ his mouth was gently shut and and he stumbled back into a seat she had prepared for him. Whatever she did to him, it wasn’t very strong and he could easily break out, and she suddenly whisked his pistol into her hand. She literally was at his mercy if he decided overreact-or rather, react appropriately.

‘Impossible-a backwater world mastering teleportation and compelling my body against my will? We could use that technology.’ Micah owed his nation a sort of stoic patience at the very least. He went along, ready to simply force his way out if she crossed another red line.

She played around with something in the middle of her room, looking intently through one of her many stashes and pulled out an old looking… M1903 Springfield, or what it was marked as… “Lillie Rifle”?

Whatever world this was, it had to be related to his, because if his mind was not garbled then that would mean… he didn’t know. What he did know was that somehow their world and his were similar beyond his wildest dreams.

Him mouthing ‘what’ let this silent woman know everything she needed to know. She stared at his gun and then hers, coming to the same conclusion she suspected from the beginning.

Micah broke his unseen chains easily and robbed her gun from her hand, aiming at the floor and feeling this comparatively ancient gun flow through his hand for the first time since he was at the museum, a child. To hold one again felt nostalgic for him and he internally smiled, giving her back her weapon, properly holding it out for with both of his hands. She took it, sat it down, and did the same to him, bowing down slightly and smiling at his hulking frame.

Micah took the gun, using his armor to formulate some of magnetic locks on his back before placing it there. He smiled down at the woman who moved to show him the proper exit, lifting her spell over his mouth.

“Eh, for the record little lady, I easily could have broken out.” Micah retorted as began his walk out.

“A matter of hot debate, for when you see me, you barley can concentrate.” She replied as she shoved a map In his solar plexus, laughing as she cracked the door behind him.

‘Very funny…’ He was outwitted.

Micah moved on, turning around and using his thrusters to ascend, his head poking above the trees as he scanned his environment. He found the great mountain city and was about to begin his flight when his armor called out, notifying him that he would not have the fuel to stay in the air for even five more seconds. Micah descended back to the ground and looked to the map he was gifted, already making out the small trail of water near him he could use to get to the city within the hour.

And so he began his expedition, his interface guiding him through the woman’s dense flora that seemed to try to get him at ever turn, in which Micah grabbed and shook away as he walked through a narrow pathway, determined to get his ass to the exit before he would have to burn the place down. It didn’t work out and just as he was about to fire some incendiary rounds, the same woman appeared behind him, smiling and putting her hand on his rifle, lowering it.

He looked dead in her eyes and almost slapped her away.

“You dare conspire against me?”

“Oh but it is simply I, now you see, a zebra near you may not be?”

She gently pushed Micah into to the plants, who grabbed and brought them close. As the thorn-free flora embraced the two, they slithered to the other side of the dense green and black bush. The light came back after some time, both had ascended to the same level of grass where they had first met. The zebra got up first and plucked the map from Micah’s hand and beckoned for him to follow.

“Let’s get to that stream with all haste.” Micah outlined his plan, trusting her with that at least. She didn’t respond, instead continuing on the path laid out for them.

For a few minutes the pair walked in silence. Micah ran to the end of the trees and gazed at the waterway that lead toward the mountains and took the lead the rest of the way. He swiftly used one hand to raise himself above a small cliff in their way, reaching back down and raising the woman up to his level. The zebra once again surprised him, willing a small pouch from thin air and allowing a golden mist to exit it. As they came across the side of the water, a small boat appeared in a yellow flash, and his companion sat down in it patting the seat next to her.

Micah knew he was too heavy, and instead threw himself into the water next to her, the wetness about to hit her disappearing into nothingness. Micah’s head reappeared a second later, and he grasped the side of the boat, pushing it out to catch the current and swimming slightly in-front, rolling on the surface and diving back into the depths and below the boat over and over again to ensure at least a moment of time if evil reared it’s head.

As he came up on the umpteenth time, he put his left hand behind his head and right hand on the ship, his torso just peering over the water as his legs slowly flapped. The zebra grabbed his hand softly and, with a wave of her hand put a green and blue mist on him, that soon tingled across his whole body, sending a pleasureful jolt through his body. Around him, the water cleared immediately and every piece of grime accumulated on him dissipated in the the atmosphere.

Micah used his armored left to feel his chest, as smooth as a baby’s. He looked to the zebra and raised his eyebrow. She smiled at him.

“You did dirty my drinking water,” she began her rhyme, “-so I had to clean my daughter, after all, we are the filter.”

Micah looked up at her, closing his eyes after some time. He used the nanite implants in his eyes to keep a lookout as he seemingly left himself vulnerable-another test for this mystical zebra to pass.

The zebra simply watched the waves pass, head in her hand.

After half an hour of the current picking up speed, the two happened upon the base of the mountain neighboring the great castle city, and on the edge of the mammoth forest. Micah sprung out of the water finally and prepared for his final arduous task, the climb. Just as he was about to launch himself at the stone in front of him, the woman closed her eyes, and the blackness covered them both instantly, and Micah felt as if he were in space once again, reappearing and instinctively drawing his gun on the zebra.

She shot her hands up in submission and fear. As Micah realized what had happened, he looked around to their new surroundings. They stood at the base of the impossible waterfall leading up to the white castle, at the edge of the pink shield that was being bashed by the black ones, their blue eyes locked the same way as any, smiling at the thought of what they would do to and what they would take from the populace when victory was theirs. Their guns and clothing was unmistakably German, with what looked like K. 98 AZ’s in their hands, obviously modified for their species. Micah didn’t have time to observe further as the link bubble collapsed, splitting at its cracks and penetrated by the bugs.

The zebra behind him sighed and looked down sadly. Micah knew that answers awaited him inside the city, and pieced together that this woman cared deeply about those trapped within. But he still knew he knew nothing of the why this was happening.

“I’m going in-but you knew then and know now why I do so- to get back where I come from.” Micah looked back at the sad woman, who simply nodded her head and smiled at him. “I make no guarantees, pray your enemies attack first… mis-“

“They refer to me as many things, all delivering wonder and fame,” she started, bringing her wrist jewelry into view from behind her attire. “-Zecora, from the Everfree Forest is my namesake!”

“Hmm… well, Zecora, why do you speak the same tongue as me.” Micah asked while putting his pistol in his side once again.

“That, is something I cannot say…” She replied, gazing into brown eyes.

Micah subconsciously sucked in a breath and twitched in anticipation. This witty-witch of the woods had made him aware of just how atrophied his casual side of was.

She smiled and touched his cheek.

“…But someone with such strength should have little trouble in your journey today, she complimented, “go forth, and l pray that you find the way, not to your home, but in your roam-in search of the loam… of space.”

‘Damn...’

“You are a natural, woman.” Micah turned around and prepared his armor for a short burst of energy, all he needed to get up the waterfall and into the city. He ascended and zoomed up it in a second, turning himself onto the street below, catching himself and reading a sign.

The sign read ‘Welcome to Canterlot.’

——————————————————

Micah blew the doorknob off a random house, devoid of the screams and laughs that marked the rest of the neighborhood.

He had fought an army of thugs once, and he knew exactly what he would find if he went searching.

Closing the door behind him, he went straight to the kitchen, scarfing down two apples, a delicacy in a military diet, and ran up the stairs to continue his mission.

What was his mission? He slowed his pace and articulated in his head why he was here, ensuring his lack of direction wouldn’t be his downfall.

’Reach the castle, find answers, and if the natives prove reliable, I will rout the kraut-bugs.’ He clapped his hands together flexible outline was no true plan, but would suffice for the time being.

Micah bended the remaining stairs as he ran up to and punched open an entire widow down to the alleyway below. He then inverted himself on the broken frame and pulled himself to the roof above, where his steps reverberated.

Looking above, he saw the swarm continue its descent into the town, his hud registering countless roundups and acts of cruelty, but minimal killing. Those dressed in green or a lighter shade of gray with their rifles tried their best, some falling battle, but most disarmed and tied up. All around the city, the scenario repeated again and again, what he looked at was not a war but the end of one.

Micah hopped from one roof to another, reactivating his all black gladiator specialist armor in full for the last time. He drew his rifle from his back and jumped again and again, relentless in the pursuit of the castle of which his knowledge certainly awaited. As he approached the most chaotic of the lines, twentieth century bullets were slow enough to light up as non threats on his display as he went prone on a undamaged roof. He watched as the two sides dueled it out, what had to be interwar era machine guns suppressing one side and then the next.

Right above him, a swarm of the black ones evaded the bullets hurled at them and overran them in one swift action, pulling their guns off them and beating them down before tying them up. The machine gunner tried desperately to whip what Micah recognized as a Vickers Gas Operated to the swarm, but was threw into a choke hold by one of her compatriots who, in a green flash revealed herself to be a black one, a shapeshifter. Her teammates tried to retaliate but were tackled by the horde.

‘Better hope they spare your ass.’ Micah whispered to himself.

One brave soul tried to resist before they were decked by a right hook to the mouth, out cold.

‘Welp.’

Micah went in for a closer look. Using all his legs power, he flipped and rolled onto a roof directly to the right of the colored ones position, them already roped up and neutralized as a threat. The ones in green and light gray had snouts and ears similar to the bugs, but without the holes. Their fur was multicolored, and they had the same bright, pretty eyes as the zebra he met, even if they were different in color. Upon further inspection, some of the survivors had wings, others had mid-sized horns protruding from their heads, and some had none. Micah pieced their names together; Pegasi, Unicorns and… horses? He was still working on the last part, and he would have to get more information someplace else.

A squad of black ones failed to distinguish him from the rooftop and dove into an alleyway next to his spot. When Micah readjusted his position to have a look, he saw against the left wall a lone female soldier on her back, her finger off the trigger and ammo pouches obviously bled dry and her wing splattered with blood. The changeling soldiers grinned at eachother, and then her. The one with a black field cap Micah guessed was their unteroffizier, based off their familiar uniforms, used his horn to stymie her bleeding, and whisk away the puddle of blood under her. Instead of taking her prisoner, they licked their lips and approached her helpless form.

The girl grabbed her rifle once more, shakily fixed her bayonet, and closed her eyes, reciting what Micah knew was a prayer to whatever power this Pegasus believed in.

The black ones licked more and couldn’t contain themselves, speeding up their march to a run, approaching the girl and swatting away her rifle after a scuffle. They stepped as a unit and made her shriek, bouncing off the wall, moving closer and closer to her right corner, the space in between them halved as they unbuttoned their field coats.

Micah, endowed with a purpose from his own creator jumped in the air, did a mid-air front flip and landed in a crouch, him cracking the street below and behind the woman with a groan. He slowly arose to his full height. He stood two full feet over the tallest bipedal bug.

“Pick on someone NOT your size.”

Micah lifted the red-furred soldier and placed her behind him and then proceeded to satisfy his blood thirst.

“You protect the ponies!? W-who do you think you are, scheiße,-” a overconfident Private began.

Micah took the talkative bug by the neck and smashed his head on the wall, snapping his helmet and leaving him on the ground with his horn piercing his brain.

The officer pulled out his gun and fired two rounds, only for them to be caught in-between Micah’s fingers and flicked back into his mouth at near super-sonic speed, knocking his cap off and snuffing out the life in him.

Micah put his hands on his knees, almost collapsing, laughing as the others looked to their dead comrades and quaked in fear, their warrior spirit shattered. His grey teeth gleaming crimson in the sunlight, and he raised his hand, preparing to punch their heads off one after one, but it wasn’t to be.

Above Micah, circling his arms and in his pupils, greenish lightning manifested without his permission. Out of his raised hand shot beam after beam of electricity hotter than the core of a star, affecting none but the thugs who were about to violate this girl. The thunderbolts burned away their skin and evaporated their clothes, giving them the Justice they deserved.

Micah’s back hit the wall to his left, and his newfound power subsided.

‘I did not know you could do that sir! Noted for possible integration into battlefield strategies and tactics!’ His armor system alerted him as he barley could stand for a minute. Micah breathed in and rolled onto his stomach, pushing his broken body up, looking towards the terrified, thankful and dazed mare that stood above him, rifle in hand.

“I-I’ve never seen anyone like you-are you a sorcerer?!” She asked as she put her bayonet in his face. Micah chuckled, understanding what was running through her mind more than what he had just wrought on this world.

“I’m just as clueless as you, rookie…” Micah got up and offered his hand to her, “I promise to bring you no harm.” to which she hesitated but eventually accepted. He shook her hand and then walked outside of the alleyway, seeing the damage he had caused.

The entire changeling force of around sixty corpses lay annihilated on the ground, and the rope that trapped all the ponies was burned to a crisp, letting all stare at the seven-foot-five African before them. Micah saw their astonished looks and viewed their small burn marks on a few of the battered soldiers coming to.

He was the leader of a nation, and as such could not afford to grant the enemy an insight into his O.O.D.A loop; his observation skills, orientation of assets, his decision making process, or his mind, and what he would do when action was necessary. He ridiculed himself internally and vowed to be more careful in the future and allow less leakage than he had now.

“Fellow soldiers, I apologize for the harm I have caused, even if it was accidental…” He closed his eyes and slightly bowed, showing a basic respect. Micah opened them as the troopers reactions appeared.

“No-no we’re more than fine!”

“Blood hell!”

“Negative, you freed us, we applaud your efforts!”

“Thank you-uh kind… sir?!”

“Hmm…”

“He’s taller than the Princess!”

Micah’s face returned to normal as he rose back to his full height, the ponies in the center sitting or standing around him after their near death experience, eyes full of wonder.

“Eh, all in a days work I suppose-you can call me a human or just a man.” Micah clarified humbly, grabbing the Vickers K off the ground with his left hand and giving it back to the mare who operated it earlier. “Who is this princess now?” Micah sensed a chance to get in contact with this national leader, and he would take it.

“Her last known position was in the castle, but the road there is littered with changelings, we are the last resistance left in the city for all we know.” A tall, white unicorn with grey hair spoke up and, judging by his greenish field cap, was the leader of this group. “Say… what did you call yourself again?”

The line of questioning began and Micah rolled his eyes.

“A human, a male, and the name is Micah,” he replied

“So Micah, you are a soldier? What would your rank be?” The pony asked, maintaining eye contact as the man took a kneel.

“High Marshall of the Federation.”

“Sweet Celestia!” The mare he had saved yelled out, almost fainting on her squadmates.

“What the fuck?!” One of the guys yelled as he put his hand over his mouth, all his mates staring daggers at him.

“Can he save the Princess?”

“You’re a Marshall?! A leader of entire armies, millions of ponies?! Those only existed hundreds of years ago in Griffonia and here in Equus-you’re a walking, talking legend!” A Private had overcome fear and asked with a big smile on his lips before his comrades calmed her down.

“Perhaps I underestimated my renown, we are quite famous-but we will have to talk about that some other time, young one.” Micah played her compliments off, absorbing what knowledge he could and forgetting the rest.

“Perhaps we will meet again, Leftenant,” Micah said, looking back, “until we do, stick to the shadows and don’t die on your Princess-Oh and if it’s tenable, I’ll save your Princess.”

The steel pony frowned and nodded, gave a small salute, finding no reason to disobey the sound orders of a Marshall.

Micah ran up to another house in his way and jumped to its top, continuing his journey. As he charged forward, the action got more and more intense, sporadic gunfights and yells filling his ears as he raced by, ducking into back alleys to avoid combat as much as he could. Eventually, he ran above a massive cluster of changelings, running up to and surrounding in circle their prize. The purple girl stomped hard on a changeling’s head that fell before them, continuing their escape until their front was packed full of them. Micah quickly scaled up a larger house and zoomed in with his visor, pinpointing the six colorful mares at the mercy of the invaders.

“Looks like we’re gonna have to do this the hard way.” The blue one with her rainbow hair swolled up and prepared for a fight, while the rest of her friends couldn’t match her visage.

‘Bravery, or bravado?’

She bashed her knuckles and squared up on a copy of herself, baring her teeth and growling. Micah took the initiative and marked the original six as ‘team one’ and everyone else as ‘OPFOR’. The two reciprocated each others movements, the one on the right eventually knocking the the one who Micah already assigned a nickname on her ass.

“How did yo-“ she blurted out, rubbing where she gotten socked. All around them, countless black ones transformed into replicas of their enemies, hellbent on the elimination of these unremarkable ponies. A gross mis-allocation of valuable resources in Micah’s eyes.

“They’re changelings remember?” The purple one, pointed out to her perplexed partner.

“They’re changelings remember?” Half a dozen of her clones copied, grinning back.

”Don’t let them distract you, we have to get to the elements of harmony, they’re our only hope!” The purple original rallied her team and prepared to start the melee.

Micah steadied his rifle, ready to kill any opposition that got one inch too close to ending these apparently high value targets.

The six jumped as a team, charging into and smashing multiple soldiers with ease, taking advantage of their ability to discern this early in the fight. The purple one rammed an orange clone into the ground head first, making its nose bleed green, and two more bodies were slumped, this time a pink clone and an orange one again. The yellow one proved shy and timid, emerging from the clusterfuck and being confronted by three of her own, she blended in and pointed the opposite way. She then ran into three clones of her tough girl friend, who the rainbow haired one knocked out and then helped her yellow friend ascend over the battlefield.

Micah swiveled his gun to the orange pony with a purple clone at her back, it revealing itself as such and nearly taking a bite out of the orange pony before Micah bust a cap in its head, followed by two more of the clones holding her down.

“Ok this is gettin’ weird!” The orange one said as she was piled on and pinned as she registered the splattered changeling brains next to her.

The real purple pony never ceased her assault, using her horn to project spells, putting a copy of hers to sleep. She turned around and beamed countless imitators who copied her friend, holding the last one standing in her grasp.

“Real me-real me!” Her purple friend put her down.

The pink one laughed and demanded her opponent change into her after his attempt to scare her had failed. As he rolled his eyes, putting his arms up and switched into her, the pink pony stared blankly and shrugged.

“Eh, I’ve seen better.”

‘Hmph.’

Micah shot the incompetent soldier dead in his neck just as the pink pony grabbed her friend, using her as a machine gun, her tail as the trigger for her repeating horn. Micah just put all his questions on hold for the moment and continued plucking the enemies full of laser bolts.

Amazingly, the six super-mares not only won the battle, but had impressed Micah, his energy canister not even hot to the touch. Micah cooled his gun and then stowed it on his back once again.

He jumped above the building they approached, keeping his low profile and easily blending into his surroundings. He went prone on the buildings edge, looking down on those below. Micah maintained a sniper position just as they opened the door, the happy-ass look of the violet one slapped off her face in a moment. She and her friends backed into each other as the black ones approached, encircling and pouncing on them, chaining them and lifting them over them.

Micah decided it was in his best interest to let them lead him inside, and followed the swarms lead.

Once they had made it to the castle, Micah split off in his own direction, breaking a window above them and diving inside the castle, using his recharged jets to remain unseen while waiting for them to bring him to whatever place they were going. Micah watched them take a turn and ascend a final flight of stairs, and decided to stay behind the door, relying on his technology to do the rest. On his hud, he sensed the three largest and most powerful life forms he had seen so far; the obvious bug leader held the most power, followed by the big white woman, trapped in a slimy cocoon that hid most of her body. Upon Micah’s mapping of the entire other side of the door that was shut in front of him. And lastly, the power emitted by the second unicorn with wings, this time pink.

The Marshall wanted every bit of knowledge he could before assaulting the evil. He bring his ear close and listened in on the conversation that followed.

“You won’t get away with this!” A light voice, soon triangulated into the bigger pink one was heard. “Twilight and her friends will-“ she shut up after the six and their escorts finally came into her view.

“You were saying?” The evil mastermind stated looking back at the pink one. “You do realize the receptions been cancelled, don’t you? GO-FEED!” she commanded her drones, who rushed in waves out the doorway the Marshall had narrowly sidestepped in time. Micah gripped the last one and put him in choke, beating him to the ground and releasing him right before he blacked out, and right after his master had shut the door on his squeals.

Micah then pushed him into the wall and asked one simple question.

“What is her name?” He whispered in his ear.

“I will never talk to the likes of you… whoever you are!” The changeling whispered. “How about this, y-you let go and I don’t end yo-“

“Tell me, now, and I’ll heal this.” He twisted the crooked horn through his helmet, using his thighs to keep the changeling still as he put his ear close to his head, relishing and monitoring in the breaking of bone and twisting of flesh.

“D-DAHH-MMM-MMMM-MPHMM!” The changelings mouth was covered by Micah’s palm, the pistol barrel gripped by Micah as he exercised his cruel method.

Micah waited for him to adjust to the pain, and continued then allowed his pray another chance to snitch. “In three more seconds, I will continue. What is her name.” He lifted his hand from mouth.

“Chrysalis! Her name is Queen Chrysalis!”

“Good, now you have the honor of watching her downfall before you pass.” Micah released his horn, grabbed his neck and broke his spine, paralyzing him in an instant. He grabbed him, injecting sensitivity amplifiers from his pack into his skin, and slapped him in the face just for the hell of it. The Marshall then silently beat the changelings chest blue, rupturing many organs, and knelt down to get a better look at the creature’s face.

“This is what freedom’s resurgence feels like, soldier of tyranny.”

Micah took off his helmet manually, staring down his soul as the tears started flowing, knowing the ling still endured nothing compared what it inflicted on others. Micah retook his spot as the listener and continued his data collection from the other side of the doorway.

“Hahaha~ it’s funny really-Twilight here was suspicious of my behavior all along.” The Queen declared, cupping the small mares chin before being swatted away. “Too bad the rest of you were to caught up in your wedding planning to realize those suspicions were correct-hahah!”

Micah put back on his helmet and got back to watching the live reconstruction of what was going on.

“Sorry Twi’, we shoulda’ listened to you…” The orange one walked up to the purple pony and apologized. Now, at the end, she understood.

”It’s not your fault, she fooled everypony.” ‘Twi’ bowed her head in shame, shouldering the responsibility.

“Mmm~ I did, didn’t I?” Queen Chrysalis replied while walking towards the window, reveling in her victory. Her day had been everything she had dreamed of and more; her minions ran through the streets, committing every atrocity they could, looting, breaking, raping their way across Canterlot.

Micah couldn’t standby anymore. He unconditional kindness the ponies and that zebra had shown to him, the mutual respect and appreciation he had earned in the blink of an eye by being there to defend their newest from the wrong. This universe, however large, always evolved into good vs evil.

Even if his species fought for better and worse than what is right, that’s all that was needed to him to join the side of it. No matter how imperfect he was, the ponies had proven themselves worthy of his aid.

At least for now he would maintain their lives. Perhaps they could return the favor someday.

Micah realized how dangerous the energy signals of the peoples inside this room could be to him, how these top-tier ponies could react to his presence, but he was ready nonetheless.

Micah kicked down the door, startling everyone within the chamber as he prepared for his first fight with this planets mystical force. He ran straight for the Queen, who tried to blast him with a green blast of energy, dodging it and continuing his journey to her waist. As he was midway through the room, she fired a blast to the ground, blasting him across the room and into the cocoon that housed the strongest alien in the room, the white unicorn- with wings. He grabbed the thin line connecting it to the ceiling, and ripped it apart with his bare hands.

The cocoon drew everyone’s attention, disintegrating when it fell and hit the ground, freeing the weak but enduring Princess from her prison.

“Look what you’ve done, bitch,” Micah said as he stepped over the recovering woman, “you’ve ensured your own demise.” Micah roared, his shields absorbing another blast by the Queen as he jumped up, flicked back, and spun his his right leg across, kicking the Queen off the balcony and onto the street below. Micah looked back the one called Twi as she helped the pink horned one get the slime off her legs, and then flipped down to the changeling infested street below.

Micah once again landed with a resounding shockwave that blew back the whole first row of spectators who had gathered around their Queen and him. From his low crouch, he looked above to see the six girls and their white Princess look down upon him with concern.

“Fight me, whore. Single combat, right the fuck now.” Micah demanded while still looking at the ground he squatted above.

“You are no match for me, whatever you are,” she spat back, “MY HIVE! I will deal with this rat myself.”

Just what Micah wanted to hear. He removed his helmet for the last time, the nanites sliding to his legs and left arm while his helmet’s joined them as well. He threw his rifle, knife and gun to his side and clamped them down to the floor ensuring not even a bomb could shake them.

He finally raised himself to his full height. Even the ponies, some of whom he recognized as the P.B.I he saved earlier, stared in shock as his height exceeded Princess Celestia’s, and certainly dwarfed the bug Queen.

The Queen and him circled each other, each waiting for the other to make the first move. For an entire minute they waited, until the Queen disappeared and reappeared next to Micah, grabbing his arm and twisting it, only for the Marshall to flip her into an arm lock, which she used her magic to launch Micah off her enough to escape.

Next, the Queens leg became a black blur, enhanced with her deadly magic, and she swung her foot at Micah’s who matched the kick with one of his own, forcing her to flip back and reinitiate her attack. She did the same thing, this time with her right leg, but then quickly used its momentum to get airborne and throw a backwards left power kick right to his chin. Micah saw it coming a mile away and initiated a front flip, using his right leg as his launching pad and his left to complete the axe kick to her back.

“Umph~”. She was left reeling by his attack and fell to the concrete below. The Queen teleported up and started her second attack soon after.

Chrysalis used her magical advantage to get Micah off balance, using short bright blasts to keep his hands up as she went for a leg sweep, rising and getting him with multiple flying knees in the abs. He paced himself, letting her get her shots in before throwing her up and using his jets to pluck her out of the air and onto his chest.

He scoffed at what he was about to do to her.

Micah grabbed her by the waist pulling her to him and turning her body around with his irresistible strength, putting her in a sleeper hold as he fell to the ground and then turned on her stomach. His thighs had her hands squeezed and their was no hope for her.

She saw the black curtain descend over her eyes, but managed to croak out something.

At once Micah got off her and picked up his stuff, ascending to the air and back up to the balcony he initially started his fight from. The horde had reawakened and cried for revenge after seeing their leader humiliated before their very eyes. Looking to his side, he saw the pink princess get her bearing with the help of the purple one and rush to her mate.

She ran to him and embraced his blank face into a hug, tearing up all way there. Her horn lit up in sparks of lightning and manifested a heart which made its way to her husband, setting him free.

He shook his head madly.

“Wha-what? Is the wedding over?”

“It’s ALL over!” The defeated queen tried once again to assert herself, teleporting in the middle of the action to prepare for her imminent victory.

“Your spell-do your spell!” Twi yelled at the couple.

Chrysalis laughed once again, unconcerned with Micah, who prepared to end the fight once and for all if whatever that the ponies prepared failed.

“No…” the stallion tried to summon his strength, but failed horribly. “My power is useless now, I don’t have the strength to repel them.”

“My love will give you strength!”

‘Ridiculous.’

“Hahaha~ what a lovely but absolutely ridiculous sentiment!” The Queen agreed with Micah’s thoughts, even though Micah hoped he was wrong.

He was.

Despite all the challenges facing this nation, love would end up saving them in the end. The two lovebirds stared into each others eyes and ascended into the air, embracing one another and connected their horns. The pink energy radiating from the two made everyone gasp in the room.

For him, it was his first true glimpse at the true potential of this new people. Their love had defeating evil.