Chapter One

The Osk-Jar-Kan defense fleet orbited around the planet's axis lazily, it's ion thrusters dormant for the time being. The collection of Corvettes and Destroyers, paired with a few Cruisers, we're spread around the planets area, the Corvettes screening the nearby imperial systems of Olympia and Kaiser meticulously for any signs of gravetic disturbances. Destroyers had their own weapons charged to maximum, lasers glowing and shields on overdrive.

It was safe to say everyone was a bit jumpy.

Fleetmaster Nal-Uruk stood at the helm of his flagship, the Dominator, a heavy battlecruiser with the latest technology available; advanced ultraviolet laser cannons, plasteel armor, heavy shielding, and a hanger bay carrying the newest addition to Screk fleets; fighter squadrons.

The Screk had typically traded off fighter squadrons for more armor and heavier weapons to hold their own in rigid battle lines, a nod of the hat to traditional Screk warfare. But ever since the skirmishes at Urzgahan over two years ago, where the much more flexible and quick Imperial Forces carried strike craft to deal surgical blows to their capital ships, many theorists began to change their minds, especially since any improvement upon their technology could mean the difference between freedom and enslavement by the dark empire itself.

He let out a heavy, grumbling sigh, his carapace flexing and his mandibles shaking. He was to old for this. Why didn't he retire when given the opportunity?

The bridge was a mess of activity, Screk and a multitude of other species scrambling to prepare for the inevitable. His communication s officers were chattering with the rest of the fleet, relaying orders and information to and from the screening corvettes at the edge of the system.

"Fleetmaster! I have a message for you! From Tal-Kul on Screkon!"

The Screk behind him, a youngin from one of the settlements of Dal-Mir-Tur, a jungle colony at the edge of their borders raced up to him. He has a sleek whitish-grey carapace with white spots on his bony forehead. He wore fleet armor, a light service uniform with a ceramo-metal chestplate with polymer straps, shin guards, pauldrons and wrist guards, all capable of protecting against light and medium laser weaponry.

He handed Nal-Uruk the data chip and hurried back to his station, his mandibles and antenna flickering. Nal-Uruk slipped the chip into his headset and braced for his worst fear.

"Fleetmaster Nal-Uruk, of you are hearing this then our worst fears have come into fruition. The Imperium of Man has officially declared war upon Screk Manufacturing. You can expect an invasion fleet in the next twelve hours, if not less."

Tal-Kul let out a shaky breath, raising static on his end. He seemed generally terrified of the possibilities at hand. "I have other duties to attend to, but be advised, if we somehow do not win this war, I have set up flights to Sairon in the west galactic nebula. Your family will be safe, and if you perish they will inherit your insurance and assets, although after this I doubt the latter will be worth much."

His voice hitched, and he could hear the old Grand Fleetmaster pouring himself a glass of alcohol. "Good luck, Fleetmaster, and may you live to fight another day.

The line ended in a terrifying silence.

And then he dragged himself back out into reality.

"All ships, prepare for combat, I want everyone combat ready yesterday. We have enemy fleets on route in the next few hours!"

A collection of 'yes Fleetmasters' echoed through the large room, and if the bridge was chaotic before now it was anarchy. Communications officers, gun controllers and petty officers rushed in and out and all around preparing for combat. Suddenly, the sensors went haywire, short circuiting due to lack of capable processors.

"Fleetmaster!", a young Screk called out from behind his console, "over three dozen energy readings originating from this system. Makeup unknown." He could hear the asi in whirring of the electronics next to him, servos tearing themselves apart. The readings had to be unimaginable.

On his own console, he saw the makeup of his fleet as glowing green reticles on his screen. He had several dozen ships, but most of them were screening corvettes and gunships, along with half a dozen Destroyers and the flagship and only capital ship, the Dominator. Several of his corvettes had disappeared from his screen, meaning they either had gone silent or were destroyed.

"Fleetmaster! Enemy Contact in twenty five kilometers!"

He kicked into action, his dual adrenal glands on overdrive. "Brace for impact!"

Out of nowhere, an enemy ship larger than even the Dominator warped in seemingly from thin air, and slogged towards them. But instead of stopping and firing, it continued until it rammed into the destroyer next to them, the Rancor. It's shields sputtered and died as the massive capital ship cleaved it into to two. Micro explosions riddled it's surface until it was consumed by a massive fireball that was once it's cold fusion reactor.

"By the spirits…", whispered one of his Unyula officers, a species of avians from frozen planets in the east Galaxy. His feathers were ruffled and his single eye was wide with horror. Teal Feathers was his name.

Several dozen more ships warped in, all from seemingly nowhere. They weren't using hyperdrives, the de-facto technology used in FTL travel. But that's wasn't his only concern. The fleet was massive, with the five kilometer long monstrosity as the flagship. It was escorted by several Cruisers that he recognised as Mars class, and a gaggle of Destroyers. Enemy corvettes we're already skirmishing with his own at the edge of the system, marauder missiles fired off the studs on their hoods.

He looked to his left, dumbfounded as the enemy flagship charged up it's gauss cannons. In a barrage of spectacular blue light, over a dozen rounds slammed into the shields of the Dominator with enough force to rock the ship sideways.

"Shields a twenty five percent. Activating secondary shield amplifiers!"

The shields we're suddenly jerked back to life, but as a shell of their former power. The laser batteries were fully charged, but he knew the damage would be cosmetic at most, nonexistent at least. But any effect was better than none.

"All gunners, prepare to fire spinal laser cannons starboard, and scramble nemesis fighters!" Another cavalcade of 'yessirs' and other acknowledgements rang through the bridge.

The royal purple cannons charged up and fired intense beams of supercharged particles at the enemie's shields, but they held like nothing had happened. Another secondary barrage fired off, and a third. Nothing.

Another barrage of gauss fire tore into the shields, and although they had been defiant, there was no way they could hold forever. They sputtered out in a dying orange light, their generators overheating from extreme strain. The few Gauss shells that had broken through slammed into the hull, cratering the armor like tinfoil.

He could hear the cries, pleas and desperate calls from his fleet along the intercoms. It had only been half an hour and they had received over fifty percent casualties. The enemy fleet had only lost half a dozen corvettes in it's over forty ship strong fleet, most due to the flagship.

As if he had summoned the demon by speaking it's name, the ship sided port with them again, guns aimed at the hull, but it didn't fire. Instead, dozens of pods, the size of small asteroids, launched from its side, like a barrage of rocks. They slammed into the hull where the main hall would be and several thumps turned into unnerving sawing noises. His worst fear had come true.

He turned back to his shaken crew and let out a shaky sigh. "Prepare to repel boarders!"

In the hanger bay of the Dominator, several squads of Screk, Unyala, and miscellaneous droids were hidden behind makeshift barricades of materials and crates, each holding their laser pistols close. They all had determined faces that hid their terrified demeanors; their legs shook, their eyes darted around the hanger, and they twitched uncontrollably. This moment could mean life or death for them.

They had to make the most of it.

On the other side of the metal doors across the bay was the entrance to the hall that the Humans had already boarded, he could hear their boots vibrating the ground, he could smell the stench of sweat and machine grease and ozone. Marine Captain Nur-Ken shuddered. That was the smell of plasma, and that could only mean shock Marines. They were some of the most elite armsmen in the Galaxy, equipped with the latest technology and prepared for any situation. Compared to his small company of Navy armsmen with light ceramo-metal composition armor and laser pistols, they were almost unbeatable.

He wasn't used to this type of combat. He had risen through the ranks fighting pirates and raiders, those who were poorly equipped and cowardly. His men were as green as they could get, and their makeshift barricades wouldn't help against the unforgiving fire of plasma.

His sensitive ear holes picked up the thwap of magnetic clamps on the far door, the sound of breaching charges being placed. "It's time, suppressing fire on that door. Dar-Jaf, get the Admiral on the line. We've got a situation."

The young radio operator, just enlisted, nodded silently and began tapping on his dataslate. The whine of the charges grew louder until the door blew several meters outward into the hanger bay, and the room ignited with energy.

His squads opened fire into the smoke and the srap that was once the entrance, blue beams striking wall and brilliant yellow energy shields. The enemy Marines returned fire with blue high energy plasma. A bolt of energy tore into the shoulder of his lieutenant, splattering white blood on the wall behind him. He collapsed and screamed in agony as his carapace burned and his flesh roasted.

He popped from cover, returning fire, but it was no use. They were entrenched behind the dismantled fighters on the opposite side, firing surgical shots into the crowd of armsmen, picking them off one and one.

"Dar-Jaf, where's the connection? We cannot hold for much longer!"

"The connection is blocked on all frequencies, Captain. We are isolated here!"

Another armsmen collapsed, plasma burning through is skull. "We need to back into the hall. We can't hold here!

Just then, a phosphorus grenade exploded next to his position, charing his carapace and armor. He quickly made his decision.

"Move, damnit, move! We don't have time to wait here. Get to the pod hall. Dar-Jaf, frequencies!?"

"The frequencies are back up Captain, but shoddy at best. I can barely understand the Admiral!"

He cursed under his breath and looked back. Several human marines we're firing at them as they rushed down the hall, in hot pursuit. The ships supports began to groan uncontrollably and several snapped from pressure, dropping another floor between them and the enemy and venting atmosphere above them. More micro explosions tore across the hall, sending shrapnel into his men, killing even more. "Come on, we're almost there, just tow more corridors!"

And they entered the pod bay, a few large Gunships designed to ferry crew in between ships and orbital elevators as well as a dozen pods. There were only ten of them left, and at least half of his men were capable of operating the Valkyrie Gunships.

"Get in damnit, the ship is collapsing on itself. Get moving."

As they boarded, another plasma bolt hit his arm, searing into his pauldron, rendering it useless. He fired back, blue laser beams disabling the target's shield and sparking on it's heavy armor like fireworks. The human took cover as more pooled in.

"Captain! Get in, were ready to leave!" The ship had already began to take off, and he grasped the hand of one of his sergeants and pulled himself in just as the back door closed and sealed, and the force of thrust took in effect."

"Captain… you need to take a look at this…"

He dragged himself up to the cockpit, and saw his worst nightmare come true.

The local defense fleet was in tatters, the cruiser bulking until it was torn apart by it's own reactor going nuclear. The blast consumed the ship in blue fire, leaving only scrap behind. All that was left was a handful of Destroyers and Corvettes and several squadrons of fighters dealing with the enemy strike craft,but they to we're being overwhelmed.

"Captain… your in command now. Admiral Nal-Uruk is KIA."

Those words seemed to chill the gunship enough to the point that cold drinks could be poured from it. The cruiser was down… so they would have to assist the planetary defense in any way they could.

"Get General WhiteClaw on the line. We need to set up defenses."

TBC