Scattered Earth: The Battle for Zion (An original work)

[CaptainChewbacca]

This battle takes place in my created universe, the universe of Scattered Earth. I wrote this and named the places LONG before Matrix 2 and 3 came out.

...
The year is 2656. The Sol system has climbed out of its dark ages of the 3rd world war, and has brought together various lost colonies to form the Terran Imperium only 80 years ago. Spanning 19 systems, and home to six races, the Imperium is beginning to flex its muscle. In 2654, the hour of the Imperium had come. Five battleships, burned and broken, came to earth, fleeing the conquest of their world, another lost colony, founded by Mormon settlers almost 600 years earlier. With no knowledge of the Imperium or assistance from Earth, the Zion Space Forces were crushed, and the last few ships fled to where they had hoped Earth would be. After 8 months and 120 light years, they found the Imperium. Pleading for help, they convinced the Imperium to free Zion from the Sha’Onaré Dominate, which had conquered their home world. With help from the Sha’Onaré separatists on Triton, and the information the ZSF has brought, the Terran Imperium assembled a mighty fleet to liberate Zion. A first group, the Zion Expeditionary Force, had been sent immediately to lay the groundwork for the invasion. Now, after 2 years of preparations, the Imperial Fleet has massed at Io, and is preparing to engage in humanity’s largest conflict in 400 years.

“Tartarus Control, this is the Bismarck. Lancer Fleet is in position”

Fleet Admiral Maximilian Ramirez looked out the view screen. It seemed like he could almost touch the ships moving in and around each other like a school of fish, even though the room he was in was far from the outer hull of his ship. The Bismarck was the largest and most powerful fleet in the new Imperial Navy. At 1200 feet long, bristling with modular weapons compartments and a rotational gravity generator, it was the most foreboding ship ever built by humans. He was proud of his ship, and the 2200 men and women from half a dozen of races who served on it. He marveled at what humanity was now capable of as he gazed upon his fleet: The Lancer fleet.

Battle cruisers, gunships, carriers, and their new lancers, upon which all of this hinged. He hoped that the new technology from the Mormon refugee fleet, referred to popularly as “Zionians”, would give them a sufficient edge. They were going in outclassed and outgunned in a system beyond the farthest reaches of known exploration. Nevertheless, they were all brand new and ready for battle. His eye caught the glint of the Bismarck’s sister ship, the Shiva’s Fire, against the glare of the Io plasma torus. It was commanded by his good friend, Vice Admiral Tessa Dorren.

Nearby a quartet of ships from the High Navy of Grrusarr maneuvered into position, their blood-red paint scattering the light. The High Navy generally didn’t condone their troops to battle with lesser beings, but after their priests reviewed the combat data from the Zionians a fervor broke out amongst the general populace of Grrusarr. The stars were aligned for a prophecy to come true, but in Grrusarri mythology, nearly every shooting star and lunar eclipse meant it was time for a battle. It didńt matter, he was glad to have them. When they got to 79 Ceti III, the planet Zion, they would need every ship they could spare.

He was brought out of his brief reverie by the speaker at his elbow :

“We copy, Bismark. Hold position while we initialize primary sequence. The OLYMPUS array is locking coordinates for 79Ceti III, at .89 AU from the system’s primary. Wormhole stability is projected for ninety-six point eight percent. Bismark, we are ready.”

Ramirez looked around at his crew. He knew that they wereńt comforted by a three percent chance at being lost in an interspatial fold, but they also knew that waiting for a better window could jeopardize the entire mission. Ramirez took bowed his head to collect his thoughts for a long few seconds and then rose from his chair, drawing himself up to his full height. In the seat next to him was Yudis, his Sha’Onare liaison from the separatist colony on Triton. The Sha’Onare settlers had lived there, hidden for hundreds of years, and now had come out to help their chosen benefactors against a foe they knew too well. His long limbs sprawled over the arms of the chair and his knees pointed toward the ceiling. Though he was middle-aged for his species, he had been alive before Ramirez’ great-grandfather had been born on New Texas. Their species had a radically different physiology, but even his environment suit couldn’t mask his thin frame, as he appeared like a living skeleton. “Any predictions or omens from your oracles, Yudis?”

The blue skin around the alien’s eyes tightened in what might have been a friendly gesture. “The oracles say nothing definitive, but Tsuk’ukaiak always rewards great knowledge and strategy. He is the master-planner of the gods.” The ancient being spoke as though he had personally spoken with the deity.

Ramirez smirked. “Then I hope he’s watching, because this is one hell of a plan.” He looked at his communications Lieutenant. “Time to leave something for the history books. Open a channel to the fleet.”

“Aye Sir. Channel open. Transmitting on all standard frequencies.”

“Admiral Ramirez to all ships:

I greet you all, my fellow soldiers. Today is a momentous day, for us and for all of the Terran Imperium. We are now gathered together in the largest military force ever assembled in our history, dedicated to a single purpose: To free the people of Zion. Our lost brothers of humanity have built a great world, a world of peace and freedom, a credit to all members of this race. They have suffered now for almost two years under the oppression and cruelty of the Sha’Onare’ Dominate. That changes now. We will engage their fleet, and free our brothers and sisters. The enemy doesn’t expect us to come. They don’t think we are a threat to their control. They only have a passing knowledge of our existence. They will know who we are and that we will not tolerate any citizen of this Empire to suffer by their hand. Today, we will be victorious, for there is no power in the universe that can keep a people captive forever. We do this not just for Zion, but For the Imperium!!”

Even with the signal traveling at only light speed, Ramirez could almost hear the entire populace of nineteen star systems cheering them on. Win or lose, their effort would never be forgotten. As he pondered whether he would be remembered as a Patton or a Hannibal, he closed the transmission link. He nodded to his comm officer and then turned to his crew, the pride of the Empire, “Lets get underway, shall we?”

“Well said, Admiral.” Yudis said with a nod.

“It just came to me.” Ramirez shrugged, as he sat in his command chair and began tapping a data console near his knee.

The Lieutenant turned to his control board. “Tartarus Control, this is the TFC with Bismark, we are ready for mass projection transport. Start countdown at 5 minutes, initiate at 2, complete at zero.”

There was only a nervous quiet on the deck as the crew tried to keep busy while waiting for the OLYMPUS array to reach full power. The array was the pinnacle of human technological advancement: nearly instantaneous interstellar transportation. Using the energy created by the Io plasma torus and Jupiteŕs enormous magnetic field, four generations of the best scientific minds had crafted Tartarus station, the control center of the array. The theory was a basic idea: Create a high enough energy field so that the laws of physics start to break down, and instead of walking the entire road from where you are to where you want to be you momentarily put your beginning and your end side by side and step across. Because of the enormous amount of power required only two such arrays existed in the entire Terran Imperium meaning that, until a sufficient power source could be found near Zion, this would be a one way trip.

The young lieutenant́s voice broke the silence, “Tartarus control reports a point-zero-three T-diff at the aperture.”

A time differential was a nasty side effect. Sometimes when space was bent, time went with it. There was no known way to predict it, so parts of the fleet could get there seconds, or hours apart. “Risk acceptable, proceed with sequence. Ramirez to all Zionian ships: Form up and be ready to get the drop ships in fast. The Lancers will cover you. Make sure Desolation squadron gets in”.

“Tartarus control to Lancer Fleet: The OLYMPUS array is active. Initiating space-fold.”

A pulsing golden field came from the Array, and began to surround the entire fleet, slowly getting brighter as its pulsing increased. The throbbing noise permeated the ship and sent waves of vertigo through Ramirez’ skull, that made the room spin before he lost consciousness.

***

Commander Rovuu, War Master of the third grand armada of the Sha’Onare Dominate stood next to his chair, surveying the planet below. Eozax, as the star was called, had no particular strategic value and its planetoids had an ecosystem which wrought havoc upon the organic systems of his people. He had only been to the surface twice, first to oversee a public execution of planetary leaders and then second to congratulate his battle engineers personally for their efforts. Both times he was greatly relieved to return to the comfort of a breathable atmosphere. Nevertheless, He was musing over it, congratulating himself on the successful conquest of the 62nd world to be added to the Dominate, the first in over 60 cycles. He was sure to receive great honor back on Shio’or. His children and mate, Yanna, would be greatly elevated perhaps to even ground with the lower nobility. His house would be rising for some time to come.

He gazed upon his armada, the pride of the Dominate. Rovuu commanded only the third armada, but the high council had been pleased with what he had done with little. The Eozax, humans, Zionians, or whatever they called themselves, had progressed significantly in weaponary technology, but they were no match for hundreds of ships brought to bear on them. Battle Ships, Warcruisers, and smaller BlastShips all ringed the planet, monitoring the world below. His generals were confident that the Eozaxian resistance was over. He shuddered at the memory of the early days of conquest: First they fought with ships in suicidal tactics, expending all weapons and ramming when no other option remained; when their ships were gone they fought with armor transport, rifles and simple projectiles; when their forces were scattered they fought with knives and sticks and hand to hand, tearing open the lifesuits of his troops; those who had nothing left would strap concealed explosives to their bodies and allow themselves to be captured, only to detonated inside a troop carrier or an interrogation facility. Now the resistance was based from the deep desert as the Eozax hid with the native tssarrik. The Eozax accepted living with an inferior race side by side as equals, yet they would not recognize the superiority of the Dominate.

These Eozax were fanatical, devoted completely to their prophet. Rovuu had executed one in a public display, yet another had surfaced. Despite their initial violence, they seemed to be coming around. There had been no great uprisings in almost forty planetary rotations. All was quiet, almost too...

His sensor technician startled him out of his thoughts, “Commander Rovuu! We are, picking up a large and rapidly increasing energy signal somewhere near the second moon.”

Rovuús face tightened in distaste. The last time they registered “strange readings”, Eozax raiders had come out and crashed to the planet’s surface. No bodies or survivors were found, only empty ships rigged to explode that took and entire squadron of reconnaissance troops. These beings were indeed a clever breed. The Dominate had been working for centuries on space-fold technology, but they had been beaten to the punch by the oxygen-breathing Eozax.

“Get a definite fix on those energy readings; Does the signal match the previous disturbance created by the Eozax during their last raid, Lieutenant?”

The technician studied his display, working the controls “Admiral, I can't get a direct fix on it, the moon's magnetic field is scrambling our scans. It fits the pattern, but it́s a much larger field.” Suddenly he looked up, eyes wide, “Admiral, I am detecting a symmetric energy displacement of over sixty billion kuui!”

The Eozax. Again. They were an infestation. This Zion of theirs wasn’t even their homeworld, though they claimed not to know where their home was. Nothing was more maddening than an uncooperative Eozax. Nevertheless, interrogations had proven most entertaining while giving an insight into their psychology. He had seen dozens starve to death rather than give information while others endured savage beatings or exposure to the vacuum of space without complaint claiming that they were suffering a righteous cause. How was illogical resistance to a superior force a righteous cause? Reports from the surface indicated that threatening the mates and children of their leaders was having some success in revealing information on the still-resistant Eozax. The information he sought seemed near, and then a sixty-third world would be added to the Dominate, perhaps in the next ten years. He turned to the technician “What is our tactical situation, lieutenant?”

“It looks like another raid, Admiral. A large one.”

“Send the 3rd ship group to intercept the raiders.” Rovuu was not about to have more rabble rousers disrupting his planet, not while he was in command.

Another sensor technician’s blue features paled a bit. He looked up “Admiral, if my readings are correct, this is no simple raid!”

More curious than alarmed, Rovuu asked “How many enemy ships?”

Fear showing in his actions the technician looked, almost afraid of what he might find, “Counting, sir. I read 20, 25, 40, no 50. They keep coming, Sir.”

War Master Rovuu replied in terse yet condescending voice, “We cannot fight without fact, Sensor Technician Portuss.”

The young officer calmed, “Yes, Sir. I confirm cruiser size ships at 80, nowhere near the size of our Battle Ships. Also reading numerous small craft, only big enough for a crew of four.”

Rovuu rubbed his head in confusion. “Smaller craft? What function do they have? Are they maintenance ships?

The technician was also confused. “I cannot deduce their function, but they have no detectable forward energy battery. If they are maintenance ships, it would indicate they need to repair their ships after they emerge from the fold.”

“Excellent. We enjoy the advantage of superior in numbers and capability, and their technology is no match for ours. We should be able to deal with them, send the Tial'niraaak along with the third shipgroup to intercept. That should suffice serve the small craft cautiously, the Eozaxian menace has used suicide tactics before.”

“Tial moving to intercept”

“Contact our ground forces, signal general alert. We don't want any more armed Eozax getting to the surface and causing trouble.” Rovuu sat back in his chair, observing the intercept group. This time, nothing would get through his fleet

***

Sitting up, still slightly dizzy from being projected 120 light years in two minutes, Ramirez called to his comm officer “Call to all ships: Report status and form up. Who got here first?”

The comm officer came alive, though appeared to be having trouble controlling his stomach. “The Wellington has been here for one minute forty-five seconds, Admiral. Sir! I’m not reading the Shiva’s Fire...” He heaved and vomited on the floor, then wiped his mouth. “They must have been lost in transit. I’m also missing two gunships and some supply frigates..”

Ramirez lowered his head. They all knew the risks for using an array over such great distances. He said a silent prayer for Tessa and her crew. Then he looked up, eyes blazing “They’ll be missed, but I’m not going to lose anyone else I don’t have to. We didn’t lose much of our advantage of surprise, so lets move. All ships report!”

The comm system burst to life with conflicting communication

“Control, this is Lancer One. Saber squadron reads green across the board.”

“Katanna Squadron reads five by five”

“Kopesh Squadron, there's a variance in grid 6-1-9, move to compensate.”

“Control, this is Kopesh leader, variance compensated, note to repair when we come back in”

“Axe squadron is locked, cocked and ready to rock.”

“Halberd Squadron is in formation.”

“Lancer groups two and three also ready”

Good. Most of his fleet and all of the lancers had made the jump intact, and were ready to go. He opened up a channel to the fleet. “This is Ramirez. All flight leaders, you are go. Operation Invictus is go. Engage the Dominate Cruisers and capital ships when you get within four thousand meters, but you must release your missiles within 50 meters so the proximity fuses work properly. Engage all targets of opportunity at your own discretion”

Axe Leader chimed in “Copy control? 50 meters is pretty close”

Ramirez smiled “Then you'd just better fly as good as you talk, Nick. Comm, have all squad leaders, begin to rally at coordinates 350 mark 23 by 2200 kilometers.”

“You humans certainly enjoy your humor, Admiral.” Yudis was standing in front of the main tactical display, his 2.4 meter frame nearly reaching to the ceiling. “I would hope that they are able to focus on their tasks. Everything relies on this battle.”

“Don’t worry, Yudis.” Ramirez stood next to him watching two groups of dots converge around the moon. “Its called ‘defying death,’ we’ve been doing it for millennia.”

Yudis looked as though he was about to respond, but instead turned his emotionless mask to the battle screen. All was silent for a few moments, and then the comm crackled again “Katanna Leader to Bismark. Look alive, fleet, it looks like we’ve got our first target.”

***

“Shipgroup Commander Hojur to Admiral Rovuu, we have visual on the enemy fleet, and are transmitting.” The Tial'niraaak and the third shipgroup were entering into range with the Eozax raiders.

Rovuu studied the images being sent. These ships looked nothing like the Zionian ships he had destroyed almost a cycle ago. No, wait, there were a few of the Zionian ships in their fleet. “How many breeds of Eozax are there?” He muttered under his breath. He saw a number of larger ships, though none to compete with his flagship, Tsal’itark’s Fist. Sure enough, there were a multitude of tiny ships surrounding the fleet, making a screen between their fleet and the Tial’niraaak. He opened a channel. “This is Fleet Admiral Rovuu, we are receiving your feed. Target their lead ship. Try to capture a few vessels, they may be able to tell us more about where they come from. We must destroy their den.”

Hojur spoke again “The large ships are holding back behind the smaller craft, but energy patterns do not suggest any significant energy weapons on craft that small. Can they be a threat?”

Rovuu was becoming annoyed; It was as though these Eozax were sent by Tsuk’ukaiak himself to test his knowledge with questions he could not answer “Ignore them, they are nothing but iulla fleas, better ignored than swatted. There is no honor in destroying what can be taken.”

The bewildered operations officer spoke up “They seem to be in an attack formation. Admiral, the smaller ships are attacking!”

Rovuu was confused “Attacking? With what? They have no energy weapons.”

The officer’s eyes were wide with concern “The maintenance ships, they're launching projectiles.”

“What kind of projectiles?” Rovuu snapped.

“Some sort of explosive, one I’ve not seen before. Our database doesn’t recognize the composition. Not to worry, sir, our armor will withstand these Eozax chemicals and explosives.”

***

“Katanna Squadron, this is the Zionian Space Fleet Bountiful.”

Katanna squadron soared past the Bountiful, one of the last Mormon battleships, its Lancers in a split diamond formation. Its leader, Alan Janson, spoke into his headset. “This is Katanna leader. I copy, uh... elder?”

“Since we have to go through that fleet on our way to Zion, would you brethren like a little help?”

Janson grinned “That would be great, Bountiful. Would ye mind if while we took yonder big ships over there, ye could smite them on thy way to the surface?”

The voice on the other end chuckled “Sure thing, Katana. Just make sure you target the energy flux at the base of the ship’s drive. That's their main power core.”

Alan feigned confusion and tapped his headset “The what? The green thing?”

The Bountiful came back “No, the blue one!”

Alan smiled to his crew “Oops. Good thing we're packing plenty of presents.” He turned to his crew, who all shared his grim smile. The humor took the edge off the tension in the ship. They knew the odds they were up against, and they had all left their loved ones with final good-byes, just in case.

“Very funny, Katanna Lead. Lets go wish these infidels a Merry Christmas. Bountiful out.”

The comm crackled again “Fleet to all Lancer squadrons; We have crossed the threshold. Fire at all targets of opportunity. Set up your squadrons in an Iron Eagle Flank, until you are ready to fire.”

Alan watched as his lancer joined the others up in front of the fleet, and streaked towards the oncoming ships looming in the distance. They were bigger than the Martian shipyards, and the bluish green light their systems put out made them look like ghosts in space.

“YEEEHAAAAAAAWW!” Axe Three came in over the comm, filled with the thrill of battle. To be fighting against non-humans was an entirely different feeling than the wars which scarred millennia of human conflict.

Nameless tactical officers continued to direct the fleet. “Come at them from below, the majority of their guns are on the dorsal axis.

Sabre Lead came over Alan’s speakers “Can do, Control. We'll engage the capital ships, take care of those blastships, and can someone check on those small ships heading towards the surface?”

A strange voice came over the comm “This is Strategic Control, those are dropships, making a delivery to the planet. Try not to draw attention to them”

“You know something we don’t, StratCon?” Axe Leader asked.

“Let’s just say we humans aren’t the only ones fighting today, Nick.”

As the Lancer squadrons began to close in, the vacuum of space became filled with tiny rockets that glittered against the stars. On the surface of Zion in the early morning hours, between the pale outlines of her twin moons, a few bright flashes could be seen.

***

*Thump* “Sir, a minor impact on the Tial, damage is negligible. It was likely a dud.” The sensor technician was studying his screen intently.

Hojur spoke again “This is the Tial'niraaak, to Rovuu. Sir, we are having difficulty targeting the smaller ships. They are so small they are evading our cannon. We are currently targeted by 20, no, 40 projectiles.”

Those projectiles worried Rovuu “What is the nature of their projectiles?” He barked at his science officer. The young sha jumped, his hands trembling, his eyes wide with fear. Rovuu knew it was not good news.

“I’m not certain, Sir.” He replied. “They must be desperate, they're optically guided, liquid fuel propulsion, and require extreme proximity for a target lock.”

Rovuu spoke again to Hojur “Butcher the carcasses, Commander, then the flies.”

Hojur came on frantically “There’s too many! They're targeting our ports, weapons, communi-“
His message was cut short by static, and a blinding flash of light was partially eclipsed by the edge of the moon. A flash so bright, the view screen had to darken momentarily.

Rovuu’s head whipped around to his sensor crew “What was that? Get me the Tial’niraaak.”

His comm officer stood frozen and spoke in a voice deathly still, “Sir, we have lost the Tial”

“WHAT!” Rovuu bellowed, his face blue with anger. He slapped the officer across the face. “What happened?”

The sensor tech was quiet “They've been... neutralized by the Eozax projectiles.” He looked up timidly at the Admiral.

Rovuu rocked back on his heels “HOW! What are those projectiles? Why didn’t you scan them?” He lifted the officer from the deck and dug his fingers into his muscle fibers.

The science officer’s eyes were now wide with shock “The missiles are putting out radioactive signatures, sir.”

Rovuu spat at the lieutenant while still holding his sensor technician sixty centimeters off the ground “Why would anyone use nuclear fuel in a missile?”

“It's a nuclear explosive. Admiral, the projectiles have nuclear payloads. They seem to direct a high-energy plasma stream that eats through the armor like impocs.” The bridge was now silent.

Rovuu dropped the officer and leaned against his chair as the magnitude of the message sank in. “Gods, I didn't think that was possible. Fusion for power, yes. But as a weapon? What kind of savages are these Eozaxians?” The database couldn’t find a match because nuclear weapons were so crude and violent it was the belief of the high council that no race would ever use them in combat. They left the victor with no honor. In 3000 years of conquest, the Dominate had lost only 8 War Cruisers, and the last two were to a massive solar flare. Now the second ship of the fleet had been destroyed by intelligent primates. His very soul was in jeopardy.

Standing up straight, Rovuu pulled out his vrii-knife from a sheath on his left leg, “Signal all ships in the Fleet!” He drew the knife across his palm, his blue/black blood welling out. He clasped his hand to his forehead and let out an ear-splitting bellow which was joined by the entire crew, and by the crews of the other ships. Rovuu stormed across the bridge to the communications pit and grabbed a transmitter, his blood smearing across the panel.“All Fleet to condition White. This is Fleet Admiral Rovuu! We are being attacked by a large force of Eozaxians from an unknown source. They have nuclear, I repeat nuclear missiles, and are using them indiscriminately. Repeat, engage condition white. The humans have declared vang-dur upon us; there can be no alternative.”

The communications officer looked alarmed “Do I read sir correctly sir, condition white?”

Rovuu’s eyes blazed “Confirmed. Condition white. Engage at discretion and fire indiscriminately on all enemy ships. They have no honor and will take us all to a bloodless death if we allow them. Target smaller ships and destroy their nuclear filth. Take no prisoners, hear no surrenders, and do not honor their fight. Males, females, young have been reclassified as acceptable targets. Death to the Zions, for their profanity. Death to their entire race.” With his own blood shed, Rovuu declared Vang Dur, the Oath of Blood Vengeance against the Eozax barbarians. No oath was more sacred. He would defeat these Eozax, or suffer the consequences.

The lieutenant shuddered. It had been millennia since the oath had been used, it was a thing of unspoken legends. Vang Dur had not been declared since the Gray War, when the Shok-Gur had used a plague on the Sha’Onare as a weapon. The price they paid for that sacrilege was the annihilation of their race. “Understood, sir. The Topar, Vukta, and Raaque moving with their fleet elements to engage the Eozax.”

***

The first Dominate ships began to vanish in a white flashes and spectacular explosions. Admiral Ramirez smiled, noting that the ships exploded in green fire, because of their nitrogen/methane atmospheres.

A frantic voice came over the comm “This is Sabre Two to Control! Sabre Lead is gone. He got caught in the tail-end of the blast. Control, they brought four of those blast cannons to bear on one ship; These guys are seriously pissed.”

Ramirez took the reply “Copy, Sabre. Halberd 6,9,10 move to cover that squad. Get them where they need to go.”

Sabre two sounded anxious “They've got a helluva lot of guns pointed at my squad, control.”

“We read, Sabre,” Another calm voice of command came across the channel, “This is the Shaka. Stay with us, and you’ll be ok. Moving to shield Sabre squadron.”

Alan activated his comm “Careful, Sabre. They can't track if you breach their shields. You gotta get in close.” He spiraled his ship closer and closer to the Dominate battleship. “You gotta get very close.” His ship was clipped by an energy pulse from the ship “That’s too close!”

His gunner fired a missile, and then he veered off, evading fire. He took a look at the rear display “Would ya look at that sucker burn! Sure must be awful to get fried by an inferior race.”

Alan looked at his gunner uninterestedly, “They breathe gasoline, what do you expect?” Both men smiled briefly and then went back to their duties.

“Admiral, I’m getting a lot of chatter from the Sha fleet.” The linguistics officer was listening intently. It was a blessing to have a human that could speak the SháOnare on his ship, and Ramirez knew it. “If I understand the translation correctly, they are at high alert... something about ‘vang-do’... I think.”

Yudis sprang from his chair and in an instant was at the arm of the young Martian ensign. “Could it not have been ‘Vang-dur’?”

She gripped her headset again and closed her eyes tightly and repeated in a slow grating voice, “Eozax vi titum gradies vang-dur.”

Yudis gripped the console, shaking as though he had been hit by I torpedo. “He wouldn’t... they couldn’t, not again.” He was visibly unnerved, even through his suit.

“What is it, Yudis?” Ramirez shook his shoulder. “Care to translate that for us?”

“The council thought this would happen.” The alien slowly walked to his seat and dropped himself in, resting his willowy arms in his lap, speaking almost in a whisper, “They have declared Vang-Dur, an The Oath of Blood Vengeance. That means their fleet commander declared it, which means it will be ratified by the High Circle.” He looked at Ramirez. “My people have sworn not to rest until your race is annihalated.”

“What? Why?” An enemy was one thing, but Ramirez had a gut feeling that the Imperium had bitten off more than they could chew here. “We take a few of their ships and then all of a sudden it́s all or nothing? Isńt that a bit extreme?”

“You misunderstand, you are the ones who declared it first. The nuclear weapons, my people feel they are ‘unclean’ weapons. In using them, you have dishonored the deaths of those onboard those vessels. Anything done to dishonor your death is justified by divine precinct and such action has just become the sole will of the Dominate.” Yudis paused and closed his eyes in an expression of pain and recollection, “It is an ancient custom, not often invoked, but it comes from the Saga of Eylaehei, who vowed to pursue his mate’s killer with the oath:

My first thought each awakening,
and the last before I sleep.
I pledge my life to your undoing.
I will burn the skies, and crack the ground
To send your broken body to Tsana’ri.”

There was a core of ice in Ramirez’s stomach. “What’s Tsana’ri?”

Yudiśeyes opened sharply and gazed into Ramirez soul. He waited for what seemed an eternity before his answer: “Hell.”

***

In the pre-dawn of Zion, the small lights near the moon Zarahemla could barely be noticed, if there was anybody with inclination to look at them. As the sun began to climb from behind the Meridian Mountains an explosion rocked the city of Ephraim. Wide and well ordered streets were filled with an enraged populace that was now fleeing from a smoking building had been a secured position. It was sad, really, that the exact planning of the cities had made them that much easier to take, and now take back. As brother Zachariah observed through his macroview, their maneuver was working perfectly. “Jonas, hoẃs our timetable look?”

An enormous man spoke softly through a voice plate in his suit, slightly distorting his pitch. Even at his elbow he sounded far off, “President Cannon, we began receiving scattered Sha transmissions at slightly before daybreak. Theýre here, just like they said theýd be.”

“Íve told you, Jonas, brother Zachariah will do fine for conversation. Let́s get a move on; In a few hours it́ll be noon. The days half gone, and we haveńt got anything done yet. The troop of desert riders smiled at the jest. They knew how much weighed on the mind of their prophet, Zachariah Cannon, and he knew how much they depended on him. They would die for him in an instant, if he asked it; it would be better than the fate of many Zionians that day who would suffer minutes and hours before a celestial repose. The prophet removed his headplate and asked with decision, “Brother Lourenço, would you offer a prayer for us?”

Another soldier removed his own headplate revealing dark features topped by greying hair and a somber expression, “for allof us, brother Zachariah.” Almost in unison the eight figures removed their headplates revealing six men of varying ages and two shorter tssarrik, natives of the planet Zion. They knelt in a circle, arms folded across their chest and heads bowed in silent reverence:
“O God, our eternal Father, we give thee thanks this day for hearing our prayers. We know, Father, that thou dost hear us, and we give glory to your power and promise that we might be a free people. We thank thee for the presence of our Terran brothers who have given so much to be here, for their willingness to help us all, and for their self-sacrifice which brings us freedom. Today, Father, we are gathered in order to free ourselves from bondage, to follow thy prophet and they counsels that we might remember thee in all our doings. We know that we are weak and helpless without thee. We ask thee, O God, that thou wouldst bless us today with strength and endurance that we might run and not tire, that we might have fire in our bones to follow in faith, and trust in our leaders. We ask that thou wouldst bless and protect our prophet, that he could continue on beyond this day to rebuild our peoples and guide this great nation. All of these things we ask, in the name of thy precious son, Jesus Christ. Amen.”

All the men looked up with a resolute “Amen”, yet tears could be seen in the eyes of all those who could produce them.

Zechariah Cannon, the youngest prophet in over five hundred years, called by divine authority to lead the people of Zion, both human and tssarrik alike to freedom and beyond walked to his welpuk mount and began to tighten his saddle. In the resistance, animal transport was used whenever possible in order to avoid energy detection from Sha patrol scans. His people were born and bred in the deep sand, giving them a slight advantage over their enemies from an icy world, and they exploited it to every advantage.

As the other men began to hiss lovingly to their mounts, the prophet went over their travel route in his mind. For eight years he had planned, dug, and supervised the massive underground waterways which made the desert in the Mormon Valley blossom like a rose using the deep underground springs and aquifers of Zion. They would ride towards Ephriam city from the east, then duck into the furthermost watergate on their amphibious mounts. There was a high pressure dispatch in Ephriam that went all the way to Pishgah and the Brigham Young Command Center, one of the few remaining Human communications facilities. The Sha’Onare had maintained the entire complex to study their technology and search for their homeworld. Zecariah had no idea where Earth was, but the Terran commandoes who had gotten through the blockade two years ago did. They had gotten the codes to him, but Zechariah new that if they didn’t get to Pishgah in by first noon they never would.

As the troop descended towards the city Zechariah suddenly stopped and signaled to his general, “Jonas, how many soldiers will advance on the capital?”

His bodyguard and childhood friend came about until they were side by side, “We have three hundred twenty thousand of our best men in position around the world. Tens of thousands will march on Manti in less than an hour to seize the command complex.”

The prophet looked through his friend into the carnage that would come to pass that day. Without changing his gaze he said to Jonas, “Signal captain Harris and tell him that the troops are too many. Tell the men that all of them who enter the city today will die. Reduce the troop compliment by seventy-five percent.”

“But Brother Zeke!” exclaimed one of the younger men, “If we send in so few troops, of course wéll die. Wére outgunned against a fortified position. The enemy is all around us!”

Zechariah́s head snapped towards the man who spoke and replied in a calm voice that thundered in the minds of all present, “Do you forget the God which brought us to our inheritance, that we hold the royal priesthood of the Lord God of Hosts? If we send one million soldiers into the city, all of them will perish and nothing would be left. This war will be long and God has promised our salvation. Today He will fight our battles for us.”

Jonas pulled out a patched transmitter from his shoulder and flicked it on, “Bishop to quorum, transmitting updated deployment information.” He then scratched some symbols on the touchpad. The tssarrik pictographic language was the only code that the Dominate forces had yet to unravel, and thus very little verbal communication was used over cryst-com.

As the prophet breathed a sigh of relief, his men took comfort in his calmness. They all had a job to do, and they knew it would be hard. None of them, however, knew when their job would be done.



p.s. I would love feedback before I post any more of this.

[CaptainChewbacca]

Any comments at all?

[Mr. Sinister]

I liked it! Especially the part the vengeance-oath. Very ominous. I’ll post more comments later. I imagine that this story takes place some time after First Emperor. Speaking of which, how is that story coming along. I hope you haven’t abandoned it. I was fantastic.

[CaptainChewbacca]

First Emperor is going well, but under the advice of my literary agent I am not posting any more of it online, as it could hurt my negotiating stance with my publisher. A real book is still a few years away, though. Revisions upon revisions.

And yes, it is far after "First Emperor". That story happens in 2206, and the Battle for Zion happens in 2656. If you'll look close in this story, one of the Terran battle ships is named after Duke's grandfather.

I was fantastic.

Yes, yes you were My writing is also fantastic.

[Mr. Sinister]

I was fantastic.

Yes, yes you were My writing is also fantastic.

Heh. That should read It was fantastic. Of course I too am fantastic and it's so nice of you to notice.

First Emperor is going well, but under the advice of my literary agent I am not posting any more of it online, as it could hurt my negotiating stance with my publisher. A real book is still a few years away, though. Revisions upon revisions.

Is it going to be the first in a series of books or is it going to be one long novel? Either way I'll be first in line for the debut. I, too, am trying to get my little novel of the ground, so I wish you luck. Just trying to make the final revisions, which is suprisingly difficult. I'm considering posting a chapter here just to see how people like it. Anyway, feel free to post more.

[CaptainChewbacca]

Thanks, I will post more in a few hours. As to what it is I'm doing, I've taken a page from JMS. The "Scattered Earth" universe is kind of like a storytelling pallete that I can use. First Emperor is my first BIG story in there, and it kind of serves as a showcase for my locations and peoples. I intend to make it a chronicle of the creation of the Terran Imperium by our young hero, like Paul in Dune but with a bit more humor and some mystical bits.

I have a whole timeline, from the Survivor Wars and the dark ages to the Reunification and beyong. The First Interstellar War (kicked off by the 3rd battle of Zion) takes place several hundred years after FE, and about 80 years after the reunification.

I'm kind of hoping people will enjoy the differences in technology and the lack of "uber tech" in my universe. FTL is still limited, and without a warp-gate it can take a few months to travel between stars. Warp gates aren't a whole lot better, because while it is instantaneous, as you saw there is a considerable risk when you try to project yourself to a place that doesn't have another array. The gates anchor the wormholes and make them safer, but they require very rare and specific circumstances and resources to be built.

Feel free to ask questions, and by all means, post a chapter of your story.

[CaptainChewbacca]

And now...

Chapter 2

The fleet of enraged Dominate ships soared towards the intruding fleet, which was now coming from behind the moon like a pack of filthy ulniks surrounded by a swarm of iulla.

“Hold and direct from here,” Rovuu said, staring at the holographic tactical display, “I will not loose this planet due to poor leadership. We must remain calm and clearheaded to defeat these barbarians.” He looked at the comm officer, “Signal Ground General Y’bran at the Command Complex. Order them to launch all fueled gunships.”

As the young Sha bent to transmit, he suddenly straightened and turned to Rovuu “Sir General Y’bran just contacted us. He wishes to speak with you.”

“Go ahead, General, this is Rovuu.”

A small figure eight centimeters high appeared in front of Rovuu, wearing green armor and a worried expression, “This is Y’bran, we are currently attempting to get all crews to their ships, but” -Boom

Rovuu gripped the arms of his chair “What was that?”

“Admiral, our launch facilities have come under attack! Our ships are exploding on the ground! Only two squadrons have gone active, and they are encountering heavy resistance on all air and ground positions.” Explosions echoed in the background.

“Attack? From where?”

“The Eozax, Admiral,” Y’bran’s voice sounded strained “they are all around us! Within the city, in the desert, in the air. Their fighters are flying so low and fast many of them evade our defenses.”

Rovuu shut his eyes. This was not happening! These foul Eozax were ruining everything that taken a cycle to accomplish, to integrate another world into the glory of the Dominate. They weren’t even supposed to HAVE their flight-craft anymore. “Gods save us! These Eozax are mad.” He said under his breath. He looked at the view screen and fumed. “Deploy ground forces! Protect those ships. Use all expedient force. We have come to vang-dur with the Eozax. They profane battle with nuclear weapons.”

Y’bran was silent for a moment. “Vang-dur... very well.” He turned and touched a console on his left, “Y’bran to all ground forces. Initiate code white procedure. Shoot all Eozax on sight, regardless of threat. Eradicate the human menace. Accept no surrender.”

The channel closed. Rovuu turned to his tactical center “Commander, how many Eozaxian ships been destroyed?”

Subcommander Tuviit looked up, blinking at the question, “We've destroyed twelve of their larger ships, but no matter how many of these iulla we destroy, still more persist. Their capital ships have begun to target our advancing blastships with energy weapons.”

Rovuu paused in unbelief, “I thought they didńt have such capacity. What type of arsenal do they have? Or are you also incapable of completing that simple task as well, subcommander?”

The officer looked sheepishly at his display “The smaller ships dońt, that minimizes their power output and makes them almost invisible to sensors. Admiral, their energy weapons signature matches our own. Theýre using our own weapons against us.”

Rovurr couldn’t even comprehend the possibility of dissension and sabotage from his own people. He looked to his communications officer, “Tell the fleet I want total destruction, no prisoners.”

His gunner chief looked pained “Admiral, We can't target them, they're too small. There is no honor in these Eozax. They're in a weapons lock, and then they're not.”

Rovuu glared at the man “Fire on masse and you can't miss. Use multiple guns on one target, and increase your kill ratio before I dishonor you with a cowards death.” He was nearly frantic, and the entire battle center could see it, “I will not be remembered as the first Fleet Admiral in a over six hundred cycles to loose a battle.”

The bridge was silent for a minute, and then the gunner chief turned to his instruments and continued to fire.

Rovuu stood motionless, looking out at the battle. His mind was suddenly reminded of a young female from his youth, who had tempted him briefly before a challenging male had broken several of his bones in a mating battle. She had been very beautiful.

***

The skies over Zion flashed with brilliance. Great Dominate battle cruisers and terran gunships slugged it out, while the tiny lancers continued to take a grievous toll on the conquering fleet. As Ramirez watched, a large Sha’Onare ship exploded in a flash of green flame, its fiery wreck engulfing a half-dozen lancers too slow to escape. So far, both fleets had taken heavy losses. They had gotten a quick edge in the beginning but now almost a third of the terran ships were gone. Thankfully the lancers kept getting through, even with priority target locks on each one. They just might win this after all.

As blast from an advancing berserker rocked the Bismark a call from his comm officer took his attention from the grim dance of light that the battle had become. “Sir! The ZSF Stripling Warrior is under fire from a Berserker Class blastship. They don’t know how much longer they can protect our drop ships.”

The forward cannons of the Bismark belched forth a green ball of energy, nearly identical to what was coming from the enemy and in the seconds of vulnerability that followed a missile removed the obstacle from attention of the Admiral. Ramirez knew that successfully retaking the planet would require every soldier they had; If they lost the Warrior they would loose half their ground forces in the fireball. “Send the Arizona and the Victorious to assist. We have to protect the convoy.”

“The Arizona is responding, sir, but the Victorious has lost primary propulsion. They are making for the convoy.”

The mighty ship began to move across the battle zone, with a half dozen lancers in tow. As it was making its way to the Warrior it passed nearby a Cruiser, lurking in the rings of Zion. It came from behind and delivered a massive broadside to the Arizona before a lancer silenced it with a soundless flash.

A red light flashed from the control board on the Bismark.

“Sir, we have an emergency signal from the Arizona.”

“Put it through!” Ramirez shouted.

A crackling voice came over the speaker “-der Yataka of the ISS Arizona to all ships, we are in distress. Capt- - - is dead. We have lost ma- engines and weapons, and we are losing other systems fast. We are launching all escape pods, please resp-“

The signal cut out, and Ramirez looked up, just in time to see the Arizona explode under the guns of the ship which had been pounding the Warrior. Apparently the Dominate didn’t like to do things halfway, but they managed to destroy the Arizona before it too was destroyed. As Ramirez watched the convoy of dropships begin to enter the atmosphere he thought that the trailing flames looked like shooting stars, or avenging angels.



General Zarikov looked around at his troops. He was onboard Normandy One, the lead ship of the invasion of Zion, and his ship was finally getting to the surface, encountering only slight fire due to the “diversionary tactics” taking place on the surface. He had never heard of Mormons until over a year ago, let alone Zion; what he did know was that they would fight, and he liked that kind of motivation. He studied the faces of his troops: Human, Grrusarri, Proto-Sapiens, and even Tritonian. Men and women ready to fight and die for a world they didn’t know existed two years ago. They were soldiers of the Imperium, but more than that, they were his soldiers, and he was proud of them.

He stood up and looked at them, calling over the roar of the engines, “All right, you grunts, listen up! We are about to do something no one has ever done before. We are dropping onto a hostile planet full of armed enemy troops. This isn’t a practice mission, this is the real thing. Some of you read about Xanadu, but I was there. Fighting those machines was hell, because they kept coming and had nothing to lose. That’s what these Sha are like. If they die fighting, they win. But you’ve got to remember that if they die fighting, you win too. We are about to fight against the toughest enemy any of us have ever known and liberate a planet they’ve had two years to fortify. Some would call that impossible. A lot of things used to be impossible, but they aren’t anymore. That’s why this ship is called the Normandy, to make sure we never forget that invasion over 700 years gone. When brave men and women try their damndest to win, that’s when the impossible happens.”

With a rumble and a thud, the ship touched down. The soldiers stood, and raised their weapons.

Zarikov grabbed his riffle and hit the release on the hatch “Now lets do the impossible!”

The roar of the soldiers was deafening as they ran down the ramp, and some of them never even made it to the ground.

***

Two hundred kilometers away a flight of boxy, crimson ships landed in a canyon near a fortified Dominate installation. As soon as they touched down, they began disgorging armored figures. Walking on four legs, while holding massive rifles in two arms and gleaming vibro-blades in their lower two arms, the Holy Legion of Grrusarr formed up, maintaining a perimeter. They were religious zealots all, believing that this was the time for the prophecy of Anrrirr to be fulfilled. They would win the battle and win a place in the afterlife, to the great glory of their families.

After they had formed ranks, a low booming sounded. From the center ship walked four Grrusarr carrying an ornate box with a fifth, unarmored Grrusarr following behind. Three acolytes followed the box, with censers of incense burning, the smell permeating to the ends of all the ranks of soldiers, stirring them to thoughts of things greater than themselves. The lead grrusarri’s muzzle was grayed with age, and the tip of his left ear was missing from an old wound, but his teeth were still sharp and his eyes bright. He looked around at the host arrayed, over eight thousand strong.

“We have come!” He shouted. “The day which was foretold eight thousand years ago has come to pass. Each one of you is called now to fight for your ancestors who died in battle each year, from that day until this.” There was a wave of grunts and howls through the army.

“Today we shall march with the bones of Anrrirr Rukorr, the greatest of our kings, to fulfill his dream, to do battle with the deathless hosts of the enemy!” Again there were howls of cheering. “Now is the time of our destiny! The great battle has come, and we walk with the power of our ancestors to glory.” He opened the box and held up a skull. “FOR ANRRNIRR AND GRRUSARR!”

A mighty roar shook the walls of the canyon as the grrusarri charged toward the base. They would prevail against their enemy. Their ancestors walked with them. The older Grrusarr placed the skull in the box and trotted to keep up. It wasn’t every day that a prophecy came to pass...

---

Stay tuned! Two more chapters to go.

[D.Turtle]

Very nice.

VERY nice

Keep up the good work.

Question: Are you going to post the whole story or will you also stop after a few chapters because of wanting to publish it?

Or is this only a short story taking place in the SE universe?

[CaptainChewbacca]

This is right now only a short story that spans the last 'battle'. Eventually, my brother wants me to turn this into a whole novel that spans the two years from the Dominate invasion to the human counteroffensive. So, you're reading the last 4 chapters of a book that hasn't been written yet.




P.S. Do the missiles I'm using make sense? I based them off of Ted Teller's "Casaba Howitzer" designs he came up with when working on Project Orion.

[Mr. Sinister]

Human, Grrusarri, Proto-Sapiens, and even Tritonian.

I'm curious. Are these true aliens or are they just some kind of human variation?

Oh, and nice chapter. Post more soon.

[CaptainChewbacca]

Grrusarri are a warrior-race evolved from marsupials, with four legs and four arms. Proto-Sapiens are gorilla uplifts, and Tritonians are low-grav worlders that broke off from the Sha'Onare Dominate centuries ago. They're separatists and mostly pacifists, but a few want to fight.

[CaptainChewbacca]

EVEN MORE ACTION!

Chapter 3

The wind began to whip about strongly through the canyon and clouds gathered over the plains coming as though from nowhere. Zions rings were composed of heavy metals, which had made scanning the planet from orbit difficult. With the nuclear blasts beginning to permeate the rings, chains of lighting and energy began to circle the planet. The atmosphere was becoming charged with an energy to match the people battling on the surface. As the troop of desert riders approached Pishgah, their hearts began to sink. The detachment of Sha ́Onare troops hadn’t been dispatched to Ephraim as they had hoped, but instead were on full battle alert, as if they had been expecting them.

The men huddled behind a rock outcropping and counseled as to their course of action, “Brother Walson,” the prophet called over his shoulder “How many are there?”

“Sir, with my eyes alone I count over two hundred and there are certainly more within.”

Zeke hung his head. They were in the right place for the right cause, they just needed to wait from the right time. He shivered as a cold wind caught him off guard. It had been years since he had felt cold like that, since he visited the polar regions with his father as a child. In fact, it was extremely cold. Looking at his wrist monitor he noted it was only twenty degrees. A nearby lightening bolt illuminated his understanding. “Brother Walson,” he spoke with a slow clear voice, “Scan the compound.”

The man stood on a ledge, barely peering out over the rock, with the stolen scanner in hand. He called down desperately “Brother Zeke, Ím initializing the scan, but I tell you I count two hundred with my eyes.”

He knew that Walson was an expert on the Sha equipment, he had been there when they cracked the weapons system codes that were giving them the opportunity to use the enemy weapons on their own ships. Nevertheless, once more the prophet spoke “Jonas, scan the compound.”

They were all hushed as they waited for the scan to terminate. Walson climbed down “Zeke, the scan shows no soldiers in the compound”

“How is that possible?” Lourenco quipped “Is the equipment working?”

Walson replied “I ran the scan twice. I can see them, but I cańt detect them on scan.”

The prophet replied “It́s the storm. The rings, the battle is causing the storm.” He spoke excitedly “Dońt you see, the rings always create a huge magnetic field. Now with all the radiation, therés a EM storm raging around the entire planet. Nobodýs scans will work. If we cańt detect them-”

Jonas interrupted “They cańt see us. They dońt know wére coming.”

“Exactly,” Zeke was happy to see the faith of his men rise again “Nobody can top the Almightýs plan for us. Let́s move in slowly from the southwest, but first wéll start a diversion. Something that́ll show up nice and bright on their scanners.”

***

Suddenly, in station 143, a blue alert sounded in the ear of group commander Kordin. The last transmission they had received before the storm picked up was that the Eozax had declared vang-dur upon his people and they had responded in kind. He hated this planet, he hated these people, and he knew that this would be a long day. He turned to his sensor technician, “What is the nature of that alert?”

The young technician replied concertedly “It appears that commander P’rel and his battalion are pursuing an Eozax cell and are heading in our direction. Hés requesting assistance in apprehending them. Their prophet is amongst the cell, commander.”

Kordińs eyes gleamed with ambition. There was a large reward for anyone who brought in the prophet, Rovuu had made that very clear. He could maybe even get himself transferred and a ship command for such a feat. “Signal P’rel and tell him wére dispatching five squads to assist.”

His second in command looked up from the same display “Dońt you think that́s excessive? It́s only one cell and therés already soldiers chasing them.”

Kordin turned and replied sardonically “Subcommander, have you ever seen an Eozax cornered? The last time we had them outnumbered they allowed capture and then detonated their power packs. I lost an entire squad to four of those savages, and they are not to be trusted. If you learn well, perhaps someday you will be fit to command as well. In the meantime, learn not to question orders.”

Kordin could hear the shame growing in his subcommander. It was a hard lesson, but everyone had to learn it.
***

“Counting four hundred troops and armored transport leaving the compound,” Walson called down to the men. “There cańt be too many left inside, and Íve activated the signal scrambler. If they try to call for help, theýll think the storḿs put out all com traffic.

“Well then, brethren, how shall we proceed?” The prophet asked.

Jonas hefted a power cannon that had been scavenged from a transport, “Front door. Íll knock for us.”

Zechariah grabbed his com-pad and scratched something into the surface, and then they all grabbed their weapons and headed toward the fortified position.

***

On the bridge of the Bismark things were looking grim. The rings of Zion had come to life with electromagnetic energy. The Dominatés ship shields were absorbing the discharges without a problem, but the lancers had begun to take the brunt of the blasts. “Pull back Lancer squadrons three and four; Wére going to need them later.”

As if in response to his doubt, a bolt of pure energy surged from the planetary debris and paralyzed one of the small craft in space. It hung there, momentarily adrift, until a bolt from a blastship removed its nuclear threat. Ramirez found himself and the entire Imperial fleet suddenly facing a combined enemy: the Dominate, and the Planet itself.

Ramirez looked at his liaison officer as the ship took another blast “Was this another part of the plan you forgot to tell us?”

Yudis was standing strangely still, despite the motions of the ship underneath him “This effect was hypothesized, but we determined the contingency percentage to be negligible. It seems that we were mistaken.”

A young lieutenant called out “Sir, our Lancers are down forty percent! We cańt advance against the Dominate capital ships.”

Ramirez cursed under his breath “Mistaken, put that in the history books.” He whirled around to the tactical display, “Helm, set a course for the concentration of the Dominate fleet. If we get in close to them, the charges will hit them instead of us. Crewman J’tan, how can we take away their advantage?”

A Sha’Onare science officer studied the display “Admiral, theýve modified their shield energy to a frequency inverse to the planetary field. The new terran cruisers in the fleet have an reactor core that operates on the same principle. If we set up a reactor frequency equal to theirs, we can turn the polarity of the field.”

“That was a lot of ‘if’s, crewman. How do we do it?” Ramirez replied.

“Sir, the Angelius has taken heavy damage and wońt last much longer. If we can move her into the rings and remodulate their energy, it would just be a matter of detonating the core.”

Ramirez mind tried to comprehend the order he had to give. Detonating the reactor core would take the entire ship with it. Fifteen hundred people were on the Angelius. “Open a channel to Captain Waters.”

“Channel open, sir.”

“Ramirez to Waters, what́s your status?”

A face came across the screen of an aging man with a cut on his forehead. Conduits were open and cables sparked in the background, “Main engines are down, weapons are failing, and well, it gets worse from there. One more hit and Ím going to have to order an abandon ship.”

“Do you have any engines?”

“Yes, minimal propulsion.”

“Main power?”

“Our reactor is stable, what́s with the inventory, Max?”

Ramirez gritted his teeth “Order abandon ship. Evacuate all but a skeleton crew to escape pods. Yoúre going to win this one for us, Yuri. Ím transmitting orders.”

There was a pause as the Captain looked at a display on his side, and an explosion from the Angelius could be heard across the distances. He suddenly looked at Ramirez, “You sure this will work?”

“My engineers say it́s a…”

He looked at the science officer who replied in a whisper “forty percent”

“Sixty percent chance that yoúll knock out all their shields. This is an order, Captain, the worst that Íve ever had to give.”

Captain Waters looked at his crew and then back to Ramirez “When they ask you how it went, tell ‘em we gave everything we had.”

“Understood. Wére sending gunships to escort, but we dońt expect you to be a priority target. Ramirez out.”

“Goodbye, Max.”

The lieutenant terminated the connection and Ramirez sat back into his chair. How many more people would give their lives today, whós last words would never be heard? He repeated in his mind as the Angelius began to shunt escape pods “we gave everything we had”

***
“Helm, I want you to get us there as fast as possible. If we dońt hurry up there wońt be a fleet to save.” Captain Waters was at the tactical station of his once might ship. “They aren’t paying attention to us, so dońt worry about being fancy.”

“Geez Caṕn,” the helmsman replied in a Macronesian drawl “I never learned how to do anything the plain-́n-simple way. We might as well go out in style.”

Yuri smiled back at the last friend he would ever have. He tapped a wall panel which sparked and spluttered, catching him off guard. He tried another, lighting it up “Captain to engine room- is everything ready down there?”

“Wére ready captain, on your signal.”

He paused and reflected. Of fifteen hundred soldiers of the empire, nine hundred had fled in escape pods, two hundred fifty had died in the battle, and all essential personnel were about to turn the tide of a failing battle for a world he had never seen with his own eyes. Humanity had to continue, so that his crew would not be the last of his kind to do something as selfless as this.

“Helm, time to position.”

“Five minutes, sir. We’ve got minimal engines”

“Set core detonation for seven minutes. Mark”

“Detonation sequence set. Cap’n, may I ask you a question?”

“Go ahead, lieutenant.”

“Do you suppose theréll be a life after this one?”

Yuri paused, deep in thought, then looked up “I have my beliefs, lieutenant. One thing is for sure, in eight minutes wéll have all the answers.”

They continued on towards the sparkling rings, waiting for an answer to an unanswerable question.

***
“Admiral Rovuu, the Eozax have halted their advance, they seem to be waiting for something.”

Rovuu looked at the display. Their entire fleet had taken losses, but they had sworn to destroy the enemy. If they chose to run now, Rovuu was in no position to chase them. “Are there any signs of reinforcements?”

“No, sir. Readings indicate no fold movements of any kind.”

Rovuús eyes were triumphant “They know they cańt get through. Their nuclear menace has turned the planet against them. Are our shields holding?”

An engineer replied smartly “Yes, sir, I calibrated all our shields against the discharges. They should pass in a rotation with no damage to us. There is one Eozax ship moving towards the outer rings away from the planet. It seems to be adrift.”

Rovuu sat in his chair resolutely, “Mark it for salvage, but send no ships. Wéll wait the vermin out. They have to come to us, not the other way around. Increase power to shields, I dońt want any failures.”

---

Entertained yet?
I'm not posting the last chapter unless I get $100.

[Stuart Mackey]

EVEN MORE ACTION!

Chapter 3
snip
I'm not posting the last chapter unless I get $100.

Excellent stuff.
How about you post the next chapter...and we let you live

[CaptainChewbacca]

No responses? No one wants to critique my tech or criticize my writing?



What, do I have to throw in a zero-point gun to get attention around here?

[Stuart Mackey]

No responses? No one wants to critique my tech or criticize my writing?



What, do I have to throw in a zero-point gun to get attention around here?

Just post the fricken fic!!!!!! its a good fic..so post it

[CaptainChewbacca]

Hehehehehe... the finale!

Chapter 4

General Y’bran held his head in his hands as he sat looking at the display screens. In a few short hours the resistance quotient of New Jericho had jumped from forty-six points to over eight hundred. An increase of more than fifty points in a day was grounds for immediate execution, and he knew that Rovuu had carried out such harsh punishments for far less than what he had done. The Eozax had all but retaken the city, his forces up against overwhelming numbers of an enraged populace that had sworn death to him and his troops. His aero fighter compliment, down to twenty percent efficiency thanks to terrorist tactics, was currently engaged in air-to-air combat with craft that shouldn’t even exist.

Suddenly an idea came to Y’bran that solved all of his problems. He stood up, not taking his eyes off the main screen as frantic intelligence officers scrambled to get information processed and coordinate their attempt to quell the rebellion, and he cleared his throat, “Corporal, what is our current combat situation?”

“Sir, we have thirty-thousand troops within the city quelling the resistance movement. The platoons report heavy resistance and all are currently falling back towards our position here to make a stand and await reinforcements. Our aero fighters are making progress against the Eozax craft; It seems they had little time to train.”

He waited nervously for a response as the defeated general processed that information. “Can we bring reinforcements in from our outer positions to boost our effectiveness?”

“Negative, sir, all communication beyond city limits is down do to the storm.”

“What is the combat situation of the Eozax force?”

The corporal became even more nervous as his eyes moved over the display. “From our scans of the city just before the storm hit we counted one hundred forty thousand civilians within the boundary as well as twelve thousand troops advancing with full armor and air support. All heavily armed.”

Y’bran bowed his head in silence. The Eozax had fooled him. They had stopped their resistance, and nobody ever thought to ask why. Their entire army had taken the ruse, and now they would pay for their naivete. “That is what I expected.” There was another pause in the control room, the air charge with dread at the general’s next order, “Order all aero fighters to reclassify all structures as priority targets and order all troops to do as well, heavy weapons are authorized. Proceed with Code White directive: raze the entire city and fall back to this position.”

The young officers looked at each other, their faces taking on a mask of firm resolution as their destiny sunk in. There was no doubt in their minds that they would all die within hours, deaths of honor for their people destroying a menace that could not be let live. As the orders were relayed through the limited communications, all present could feel the ground beginning to shake as the concussive forces from the aero fighters ordinance began to take its toll on the city.

***

Admiral Maximilian Ramirez of the Imperial Navy was not usually a nervous individual, but then again it wasn’t a very usually day in the life of anybody who found themselves at 79 Ceti III. As he gazed at the tactical display he relaxed his mind to allow these minutes of waiting to pass, “Lieutenant, any luck in isolating the signal from the ZEF commander?”

“Negative, sir.” A young female lieutenant came back “We still can’t penetrate the interference from the planetary ion storm.”

Ramirez was about to say something else when an audible tone startled the otherwise silent room, “Admiral, it’s a transmission from the Angelius. It says ‘For home, for honor, for all of humanity.”

Just as Ramirez was about to reply the entire view screen went white, in a silent flash. The Angelius had finally maneuvered into position of the rings of Zion, so slow that nobody had noticed and the Admiral had momentarily forgotten. The effect was spectacular. All of the swirling energy around the planet surged forward towards the Dominate fleet. The shields that had held the lancers and lightning strikes at bay suddenly began to attract the energy, one by one shorting out power conduits and paralyzing smaller craft. Dancing lights flashed from both poles for seconds and then stopped, Zion’s atmosphere returning to normal.

“That was definitely the highlight for me so far,” Ramirez commented to nobody in particular. He then wheeled about to the mesmerized crew “But can anybody tell me if it worked?”

The Sha’Onaré officer who had suggested the idea came to his senses and squinted at the display in front of him, “Yes sir, their shields are down and ion traces in the rings are down eighty-five percent. Communications should now be open.”

Ramirez sat back in his chair and smiled coldly, “Excellent job, crewman. Comm. launch all remaining lancers and continue the assault. We’ve got ‘em reeling, now lets take them out.”

***

The fighting was fierce outside the old Brigham Young Space Command center. The young Prophet was leading his men through the streets, exchanging fire with Dominate forces. There was so much smoke and ash in the air, that he could hardly see, and the gunfire and screams were deafening. He ducked as a trio of Zionian fighters streaked overhead pursuing a Dominate cruiser that had been leveling buildings in this quadrant of the city. His men in the air might not be too particular about their targets right now, and with only months of simulated training they were still far from being pilots.

He was fortunate, though, that he was only dealing with a local garrison. The main complex of the Sha’Onare’s military was in New Jericho, in the Vekuss ridge system some 220 kilometers away. He was here in the ruins of Pishgah, with only a small group of resistance fighters to try to retake the old Space Command facility to direct the fighting and to coordinate what forces they had. He was about to go around the corner and get to the entrance, when he was grabbed and thrown down.

He was about to say something when a volley of energy pulses perforated the building right where his head had been. Zechariah looked up to see his bodyguard Jonah shooting back at the Sha who had shot at him. Jonah was an expert marksman, and when the smoke cleared, Zechariah and his men continued on to the command center.

There were no guards inside. It had been closed since the occupation, and troops were needed everywhere but here. They entered the main control room, and God was with them. The machinery was mostly intact, and everything seemed to be in order. One of the men, Joseph, activated the generator and the consoles came to life, machinery whirring like a distant waterfall. Sparks and screeching in one corner drew their attention to an angry kriistik, a native pest which had been living in a power conduit. The men laughed as the creature ran off, then took their positions. “That’s one invader driven off.”

Zechariah sat down at the main station, and put his headphones on. He looked to Joseph, who nodded and pointed at him. The storm had cleared, almost miraculously, and now was the moment of truth for the entire operation.

He spoke “Brigham Young Control to the terran fleet, are you receiving us? Repeat This is BYC calling the Terran fleet, do...”

***

“…you copy?”

Ramirez clenched his fist, his face showing a grim satisfaction; they had made it. The Zion Expeditionary Force, sent eighteen months ahead of the liberation fleet, had made it to the surface successfully. It was a whole new ball game.

The ZEF had been sent almost immediately after the imperial council learned of the existence and occupation of 79 Ceti 3, the planet Zion. They had used the OLYMPUS Gate to send 3 fully loaded cruisers modified to breach the Sha’Onaré orbital blockade and land as much personnel and equipment on the surface as possible. The odds were poor, and only one cruiser was expected to actually make planet fall. Once on the surface they were to team up with local partisans and organize a resistance and to prepare for the arrival of the liberation fleet.

“Isolate that channel and transmit. This is fleet admiral Ramirez of the Terran Imperial Fleet. We are receiving your transmission. Enter identification clearance: King’s Knight to Queen’s Rook 5.”

There was a tense pause on the bridge as the entire crew awaited the response. Had the expeditionary fleet been captured? Was this a hoax? Failure to respond with the proper code would mean more death on all sides.

A burst came across the comm and then “-een’s Bishop takes Knight. Some here had given up hope on your ever arriving.” The voice was unfamiliar, yet hopeful.

Ramirez drew a breath “I want to speak with Colonel MacAllistar. I need an update for Normandy group.”

A pause came over the feed. “Colonel MacAllistar is dead. The Johannesburg didn’t make it to the surface. We have been operating under the command of Lt. Colonel Richard Ward.” There was an awkward pause “He was shot earlier this morning. My name is Zechariah Cannon, acting president of Zion and commander-in-chief of her military assets. You’ll be coordinating any and all operations through me, Admiral. Sorry about the delay, but lets not waste any time now. Here’s what we have to work with. Transmitting now.”

Ramirez glanced over the list. It was more than they had expected. Three hundred thousand armed men, a third of those in the canyons to the north of Deseret, and a full ninety thousand in the Meridial Mountains. More than that, the resistance had taken detailed maps of the Sha installations, weapons emplacements, troop bases, and equipment holdings. His eyes drifted down to the last item on the list. Three hundred fifty-two fully armed and fueled fighters ready to launch from five bases in the desert and a hidden fighter group was underground on Zion’s second moon. It was indeed, a whole new ballgame.

Ramirez smiled and spoke with authority “Comm, put him through to General Zarikov. Tell him we’re not leaving until Zion is free.”

***

The battle raged on. Explosions and fiery wrecks littered the skies above Zion, and more of them were Rovuu’s than the invading fleet. One derelict ship had nearly incapacitated his armada with a science trick a child would be familiar with. He was furious and disgusted with these Eozaxians. They were barbarians, in every sense of the word. He hadn’t believed the scholars when their studies of the Zionian’s partially destroyed library had revealed that the humans had brought themselves to a state of global war on multiple occasions, going so far as to annihilate whole nations and subgroups for the sake of land and wealth. Now, he was beginning to understand the depths to which these creatures were capable of sinking. They must be stopped.

“Communications!” Rovuu thundered. “Contact the Kireionot and the Riinu’shae, and have them begin order nine-four-blue.”

“As you command, Sir.”

Rovuu wrung his hands. “Contact General Y’Bran, highest priority.” The holographic display flickered, and a smoke-filled room came into view. On the back wall dozens of monitors were visible. Half of them were transmitting only static, but others were showing images of burning buildings, Dominate troops trading fire behind burned-out hulks of their landcraft, and everywhere armored and unarmored Eozaxians and their allies were driving back his forces, taking and inflicting heavy casualties, but pressing forward nonetheless. On one screen he saw a group of Eozaxians hang a soldier from a streetlight, his suit slit open to expose him to Zion’s harsh atmosphere.

“General, what is your current situation?”

“Sir, I and my staff have taken refuge in the primary control complex. I have over two battalions to still standing, but we are overwhelmingly outnumbered.” His expression was grim. “I ordered my men to allow the Eozax to take the main launch facility after they rigged it for demolition. Several thousand were killed, but we cannot evacuate ourselves. All troops and aero fighters are engaged in carrying out Code White procedures. I have authorized heavy weapons and prioritized all targets of opportunity.”

“Understood.” Rovuu began to tap out orders on his control board. “Transmit the names of all troops still under your command.”

“Sir?”

“Their names are to be recorded in the hall of heroes, General. Yours as well..” His eyes bored into Y’bran’s with sadness.

“Yes, Sir.” General Y’Bran and his men saluted. “We will draw as many of the Zionians as we can close to the structure. Glory, honor, victory.”

“Excellent. Expect relief in one minute.” The channel clicked out.

“Are the Krieonot and Riinu’shae in position?” Rovuu sat back.

“Momentarily, commander.”

“They may fire at will. Bring the remainder of the fleet in to screen them.” Burn the skies, crack the earth. Rovuu knew the Gods would be pleased.

***

Yudis examined the display closely. “Admiral, look!”

“What is it, Yudis?”

The Sha’Onaré stuck two long fingers into a pair of lights above the surface. “These ships are Ibu’Chalan, orbital heavy-bombers. They will be able to lay waste to the surface if we cannot destroy-“

Ramirez was already at the comm. “Priority signal to all fighters, intercept the two Dominate heavy cruisers at eight-five-eight.”

“Sir, that area is deep within the Dominate fleet!” His controllers searched frantically for spare ships. “We have no vessels within range.”

“I wouldn’t say that, fleet.” The voice of their new ally came over the comm, faint from static. “This is Brigham Young Control, sending a special delivery to eight-five-eight. Check your scanners.” As Ramirez watched the display, a swirl of light leapt up from the second moon of Zion, Zarahemla. “Permit me to present to you the Zion Space Patrol.” From the over three hundred ships that launched, six dozen took off for the pair of ships. The rest made a dash for the surface of the planet.

“BYC, this is fleet,” The Sha’Onaré science officer spoke over the comm. “How many nuclear missiles do you have? We read their armor as very heavy.”

There was a pause over the comm before Zechariah replied, “Who needs missiles when we have faith that can move mountains?”

***

“He’s not serious.” One of Alan’s crewmen shook his head. On his HUD Alan saw the Zionian fighters form into two wedges and head for the cruisers.

“He’s serious.” He flicked on the broadband comm to listen to the Zion fighters. “Where the hell did you boys come from?” His squadron and others moved in towards the fleet from the opposite side, trying to get to the bombers.

A jovial voice responded. “You’d expect us not to stand and be counted on the last day? We’re sons of Zion, brother!” Then another voice broke in. “Mosiah Squadron, this is Mosiah lead. Stay on course and today we will be with Him in Paradise.”

“Copy, Lead.”

Alan signaled over his radio “Fleet, this is Katana lead. Moving in to screen Mosiah squadron.”

“Negative, Katana lead.” Came the voice of the Mormon commander “This is a maneuver you haven’t seen in the textbooks.”

As the ships sailed towards the cruisers, the comm burst into song causing the all the men in range to jump, and almost deafening the crew of Katana lead.

Ye elders of Israel, come join now with me
And seek out the righteous, where'er they may be:
In desert, on mountain, on land, or on sea,
And bring them to Zion, the pure and the free.

Despite the nearing fleet, the fighters continued, dodging the massive energy blasts that occasionally caught a fighter off guard. They drove on, passing capital ships that had been paralyzed by the ion discharge, blind to everything but the orbital bombers growing larger and larger in their view screens

O Babylon, O Babylon, we bid thee farewell;
We're going to the mountains of Ephraim to dwell.

Alan had to shield his eyes as over sixty fighters loaded with high yield explosives slammed into the two cruisers at maximum speed. The sight was blinding. “Control, this is Katanna leader. They did it! Those crazy bastards did it! I can confirm the cruisers are burning in the atmosphere! That's one for a song!”

***

Shock and silence filled the bridge of the Tsal’itark’s Fist. Rovuu’s mind swam as he searched for words. “How... how many ships are left in the fleet?”

“Thirty two, sir.”

Thirty-two, out of an armada of two hundred. “Signal the fleet. Fire on the primary control complex, and then bring the fleet around. We are withdrawing.” For almost ten seconds no one moved, and then the crew slowly began to carry out it’s orders. A blossom of fire flickered on the surface. “Estimated casualties?”

“All of our forces at the complex are eliminated, Sir. We estimate over eighty-thousand enemy casualties at the site, over five-hundred thousand planetwide. I count almost twelve thousand dominate troops on the surface.”

“An acceptable loss.” Five hundred thousand. Not nearly enough. Rovuu sat in his chair. “Continue the withdrawal.”

***

At Zarikov’s command post the fighting had mostly died down. His men were advancing against a Dominate fuel depot, and were coming under heavy fire. A trio of Zionian fighters strafed the ground a kilometer away, one of them going down under retaliatory fire. His communications officer came up to him. “General, BYC has diverted two supply ships and another dropship to our sector!”

“What?” The grizzled man grabbed a headset. He heard the conversation.

“Affirmative, Normandy two. You are clear for-“

”Negative, negative!” Zarikov bellowed. “Sector 42 by 29 is still a hot zone, repeat, zone is red.”

“Copy? Who is this?”

Zarikov could see three smoke trails in the sky from the descending ships. “This is General Zarikov of the Imperial Army. Unless you outrank me, and you can’t, divert those ships to sector-” A deafening BOOM threw him to the ground and showered the command post with debris. He rolled over and saw a glittering wedge with bulbous protrusions rising into the sky, spitting crimson death. His comm technician punched a button on the set and started screaming.

“Alert, Alert! We have a Falcon, repeat, a Falcon at sector forty-two by twenty-nine! Request immediate support!” All around troops were fleeing while artillery continued to harry the ship. Its shields held as it pounded the fuel depot and rose into the sky. As it climbed, the three smoke trails descending flashed into balls of fire before a flight of lancers did the same to it.

“Where the HELL did that come from?” The old general fumbled through his reports.

“It must’ve gotten caught on the ground refueling, sir.” The young comm officer was bleeding from a cut on his cheek. “Just bad luck.”

“Yeah... bad luck.” Zarikov took the headset. “Fleet, this is Zarikov. Sector four-two by two-nine is now clear and ready to receive reinforcements to begin supplying aid to local partisans.”

He sat down on a rock and bowed his head. Too many dead soldiers today. Too damn many.

***

The enraged singing of the Zionians echoed in his ears. One of Rovuu’s technicians had captured the transmission. Truly, these Eozax had declared a vang-dur upon his people, taking to reservations about destroying their enemy by any means. “Open a channel to the Fire of Shuri’raai.”

“Channel open, Admiral.” Rovuu’s senior commander was solemn as he stood on the screen.

“It is a dark day, Fleet Commander.”

Rovuu splayed his fingers in agreement. “One of the darkest, my friend. Vice Commander Lur'niurri, by the powers vested in me by the Dominate Fleet Command, I hereby promote you to the rank of Fleet Admiral. You are hereby charged with returning all information to the Dominate regarding the Eozax menace.”

Lur’niurri bowed. “Glory, Conquest, Victory. Goodbye, my friend.” The connection closed.

“Full stop, open a channel to the Eozax fleet, broadcast only.” Rovuu purpled in anger.

“Sir?”

“DO IT!” There was a pause, and then the technician nodded.

Rovuu stood tall. “To the cowardly Zionians and their allies. This is Fleet Admiral Rovuu of the Sha’Onare Dominate. I wish to congratulate you on your victory. You have won through trickery and deceit, and shown no respect for your enemies. In return, you will receive no mercy.” He clenched his fists, but continued. “Your victory is hollow, for your world is half in ashes, but do not despair, You cannot possibly comprehend the power of the Dominate and what it will bring against you. We will take what we have learned, and we will revisit your heinous crimes upon you a thousand-fold. We will not stop, neither our children, nor their children, until every last one of your breed has ceased life. You have just begun a war you cannot win.” He made a chopping motion to end the transmission.

“Crewman, your sidearm.” Rovuu stretched out his hand to an honor guard by the door.

The Sha hesitated, before placing the pistol in Rovuu’s hand. The Admiral spun around and walked to his chair. He sat down, placed it against his temple, and pulled the trigger, leaving a cauterized, smoking hole in his head as he pitched forward to the deck. His second officer picked up the pistol and looked at the bridge crew. They all knew what the Admiral had pledged when he took the oath. He could not have left the battle alive.

The officer stood, and blew apart a console with the pistol. “Let the log show,” he slowly turned, meeting every gaze. “That Fleet Admiral Rovuu died due to an exploding console when we were hit by an Eozax missile.” He sat down in the command seat. “In the six thousand, three-hundred seventy-fourth year of the Dominate, we have declared Vang-dur against the Eozax and all who stand with them. May the gods be with us.”

***

Ramirez watched the remaining Dominate ships depart. Their commander’s vow had been chilling, even through a vocal processor. “Are they serious with this, Yudis?”

“Quite, Sir.” The alien was now overseeing the captured soldiers and equipment, and was poring over reports.

“Why didn’t your analysts see this coming? We don’t want to wipe out your people?” Ramirez pounded his leg. “We should have seen it.” Suddenly something clicked in his mind. He looked over at Yudis. “You did see it, didn’t you?”

“Admiral?”

“You son of a bitch.” Ramirez shook his head. “You wanted this. You wanted us to fight your war for you, because you can’t do it yourselves. And we can’t even-“

”Admiral, I’m getting a transmission from the surface. It’s the... their Prophet.”

Ramirez glared at his liaison. “Alright, let’s hear it.”

On the screen he saw a tall, thin man in a room full of dusty machinery, with a dozen others speaking into headsets. “Brothers and Sisters, this is truly a day of rejoicing, for we have taken back our lives. We have lost much, but in this, catastrophe lies hope.” He bowed his head for a moment before continuing. “Our homes have been burned and our children slaughtered, but in this darkest hour, hope has found us.”

A chorus of cheers came from the controllers behind him. “Saints of Zion, we..have been found by our brothers from earth...” Josiah’s voice was thick with emotion. “There will be much celebrating today, but tomorrow comes reality. We are no longer pilgrims in an unholy land, we are now the front line of all humanity. There are those who have ill feelings of the past. I say to you "bury them now", for they have no place in the future of our people. Saints and Gentile are united again for a great purpose. We have much to learn, and much to teach

He stood. “Remember this day, brothers and sisters as the day when Earth and Zion, came home to each other. I say these things in the name of Jesus The Christ, Amen.”

The transmission ended. “Amen to that.” Ramirez nodded.

[Mr. Sinister]

Rovuu stood tall. “To the cowardly Zionians and their allies. This is Fleet Admiral Rovuu of the Sha’Onare Dominate. I wish to congratulate you on your victory. You have won through trickery and deceit, and shown no respect for your enemies. In return, you will receive no mercy.” He clenched his fists, but continued. “Your victory is hollow, for your world is half in ashes, but do not despair, You cannot possibly comprehend the power of the Dominate and what it will bring against you. We will take what we have learned, and we will revisit your heinous crimes upon you a thousand-fold. We will not stop, neither our children, nor their children, until every last one of your breed has ceased life. You have just begun a war you cannot win.” He made a chopping motion to end the transmission.

Absolutely chilling.

Saints of Zion, we..have been found by our brothers from earth...” Josiah’s voice was thick with emotion. “There will be much celebrating today, but tomorrow comes reality. We are no longer pilgrims in an unholy land, we are now the front line of all humanity. There are those who have ill feelings of the past. I say to you "bury them now", for they have no place in the future of our people. Saints and Gentile are united again for a great purpose. We have much to learn, and much to teach

He stood. “Remember this day, brothers and sisters as the day when Earth and Zion, came home to each other. I say these things in the name of Jesus The Christ, Amen.”

The transmission ended. “Amen to that.” Ramirez nodded.

I've got to admitt, that part got me a little misty-eyed. Very good! Very good indeed!

[CaptainChewbacca]

Believe it or not, my brother and I worked out the main sequence of this battle over about half an hour of IM conversations.

[Stuart Mackey]

Believe it or not, my brother and I worked out the main sequence of this battle over about half an hour of IM conversations.

A very good yarn... I hope you continue this in some form.

[CaptainChewbacca]

If my first book goes well, this will be later in the series.

[Stuart Mackey]

If my first book goes well, this will be later in the series.

Good good..remember to send me a copy