The second part of The Battle of Xenophros, the climax of my Endless Space fanfiction.

Please read chapters 1: https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16426-fan-fiction-the-duke

through to : https://www.games2gether.com/endless-space/forum/38-creations/thread/16404-fan-fict-the-calm-before-the-storm

Kyta StrongWing



The interior hulls of Hissho ships are strictly utilitarian. While the outside may be designed to resemble strong and elegant warbirds, tributes to the Sky Father and his messanger, the Phoenix, inside was built for function. Bulkheads, housing cables and power conduits, jut out of the walls obtrusively. Corridors are built with high ceilings, work terminals and data screens line the upper walls and ceiling panals, giving the odd Imperial envoy a sense of invertigo. Living quarters allow the crews to rest with no comforts. R&R is spent in prayer or in the fighting pits. War is on all their minds and distractions are minimalized. Most flock to the engine core when off duty. The core chamber of Hissho ships were of immense proportions, spanning from the nose of the vessel, to the aft. Depending on the class of ship, this chamber can span dozens of kilometers. The engine is housed in a central admantium chamber with large cooling tubes running along either side of the engine house. The tubes branch off toward heat discharge vents outside the core, like a river's tributaries break from the main waterway to empty into an ocean. The rest of the drive core is a perfect spot for birds looking to excercise their wings.



Kyta stood on a discharge tube, overlooking the vast tunnel that was the drive core that stretched on past his vision, broken up here and there by a web of other discharge tubes running from the main cooling pipe as well as other Hissho flying around the chamber. Beside him, stood his Sword-wife. A female, not of the Forseti tribe, but who travelled from Strongbreeze to take part in the mate calling, and Kyta had claimed her, taken her from a RavenSong. Her feathers were blue, a white diamond at her chest that ran up her neck and turned black around her eyes. She will give him many strong sons and wise daughters. Her name was Aka MoonSong, and has now taken his name, Aka StrongWing.



Aka put a claw upon Kyta's back and leaned into his ear and whispered, "Just like I told you, Kyta. Let the Dust be your eyes."



Kyta clucked his beak, "They do not call me StrongWing for nothing, wife. I am the finest flyer in the tribe, you shall see."



Aka cocked her head to the side, "Pride before the fall," and with surprising strength she pushed her husband from the tube.



Kyta fell fast toward the interior walls of the core chamber, he stretched out his wings and pulled his body up in flight just before he hit the wall. He was indeed a fine flyer. He flapped his wings with great strength and weaved in and out of the tributary tubes of the cooling pipe. Clumsy flying Hissho would careen into his path and he would avoid them with a seemingly god given grace. The walls of the engine core began to close in on Kyta. He was approaching the nose of the ship where the core began to narrow. His arms tucked in at the side of his body, he let his wings carry him over a cooling pipe. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Aka flying next to him. In a flash, she pulled up above him in a barrel roll. Before he could react she was on top of him tying her ceremonial arm band around his head, blinding him.



"Dust be your eyes," she pushed herself off of him.



Darkness shrouded over Kyta. Without his eyes this flight was doomed to end badly. He did not know how Aka knew he was a Dust weilder. After the mate-calling she had claimed that it was she that claimed him. That she could see he was gifted with the sacred power, just as she was. She had said she had been searching for someone like him all her life. In the Craver War, the traitor cheif was the first to harness the power of the dust. After the war he sought to use that power for his own ends, and he was destroyed because of it. Kyta had always been afraid when discovered his ability, thinking it was a curse, just as his entire family was cursed. Aka assured him it was gift, and would help restore his family and win this war.



Kyta could here his wife somewhere beside him now. "Your eyes can betray you. Know that Dust is more than computer chips, it speaks, you need only listen!"



Every blind flight Aka insisted Kyta take had ended in disaster and bruises, but he had to try. With a deep breath, Kyta began to concentrate, to feel his interconnection with the dust within his body. He felt himself begin to pulse with energy he began to sense things around him. He could feel the dust within Aka. In a flash he could feel his minds eye rip open. He could now see Aka beside him, her form sparkling gold with the Dust flowing in her blood. Ahead of him, he could see the dust regulate the temperature in a cooling tube, he weaved around it.



"Yes, Kyta. Listen to the Dust. It is alive!"



Aka and Kyta landed on a pipe, breathing heavily from the excercise. Kyta's claws untied the band around his eyes, he passed it back to his sword-wife. Husband and wife stared at each other. Her eyes, black as coal burned into him. He percieved flecks of gold in those black eyes. An alarm sounded, the voice of the Matriarch of RavenSong sounded over the comms.

"This is the Ship Master, we are approaching the Slip Node of the Xenophros System, all birds to their stations."



Kyta's eyes darkened. "I should be leading a ship of my own, but I am cursed to be a grunt on the frontline, this isn't fair, Aka."



Aka put her claws on his shoulder, her eyes burning with wisdom, "You must learn to be a soldier, Kyta, before you can learn to lead."



Reluctantly, he agreed and flew to the armoury of the ship to prepare for the bloodshed that was to come.



To be continued...

Good nolan, good!

The Forseti Fleets tore through slip space into the binary star system. The tribe raised two fleets to join the six fleets of the Great Chief. Each great family had a ship of their own, The BloodTalons, RavenSongs, and BoldFeathers all flew great battleships to sing deaths glorious song to their enemies. The lesser families were split up to serve the ship-masters of the great families. Kyta and his cousin Koro served as soliders in RavenSong’s battleship, The Sorrow‘s Flight. They both stood in rank and file with over a thousand other soldiers in the great launch bay of the ship, arrayed in battle suits. A large black Hissho paced back and forth at the head of the soldiers. His red eyes full of contempt as he stared out among the troops.

“I ask for a hundred ravens, and GoldFeather gives me a thousand hatchlings.” The claws of the black bird open and close as he paces back and forth at the head of the column, eager to shed blood in the name of the tribe. “I am Kei DarkCrest, and you are all my wing. You will purge your mind of lust for personal glory. The glory of the Hissho transcends your own meagre wants and lives. You will follow my orders and mine alone. Do not fear death, for death is the flight to awe!”



“Death is the flight to awe!” Sang back the soldiers.



Kyta wanted to rip DarkCrest apart. Tear off his limbs and bathe in his blood. Instead he remembered the words of his wife, and resigned himself to stand quietly.



DarkCrest turned and faced the far wall of the launch bay as the bay doors slid slowly open with a great mechanical groan, giving a view of the space beyond. In the distance, beyond the dark energy shield around the ship, lights could be seen. Blue stars that burned with the fire of death. The stars grew into ships. In the foreground Imperial corvettes emerged, racing to confront the ships of their enemies. The scene before them descended into chaos. A wall of torpedoes from the enemy fleet burned the corvettes. The walker ships grew larger still.



Kyta could scarcely remain standing there, completely helpless to the forces of death outside the ship. The vista before the company was ever changing. The ships of the enemy continued to grow larger as they drew near. A Hissho cruiser, The Firebird, entered the view of the launch bay, firing a volley of torpedoes and talon slugs upon the enemy fleet. The walker fleet answered with a wall of torpedoes of its own, The Firebird burned as it fell from view, Kyta softly clucking at the irony.



DarkCrest raised a claw and pointed at a large ship on the edge of their view, “there, that is our target. On my word, we will fly out and give them their end.”



Kyta eyed the ship. It was large, and an endless pulse of beams shot out from its cannons, many connecting with Sorrow’s Flight, tearing through the shields and burning the hull. Kyta shut his eyes. He tried not to think about the total lack of control he was now in, his destiny in the hands of a ship master and enemies beyond. He took a deep breath, and once again felt the dust within him. In his mind’s eye he could see Sorrow’s Flight, see her torpedo tubes empty their payload toward the enemy fleet. The walkers discharged a jamming signal, causing most to miss their target. He felt a Hissho cruiser burn and fall, overcome by the blasts of beams that fired into his tribe’s fleet. Kyta took another deep breath and felt himself tap into a intricate web of Dust. He could see the entire Hissho fleet now. See a Hissho destroyer blow in a blinding flash. They were losing this battle. Kyta’s physical form may be helpless within the launch bay of Sorrow’s Flight, but while tapped into the Dust perhaps he could influence this battle.



The great battleship of GoldFeather fired a volley of torpedoes, doomed to miss their targets due to the jamming signal of their enemies. Under deep concentration Kyta boosted the signal of the Dust within the lead warhead. It became a blinding ball of golden light. The golden light struck a hull of walker battleship, tore through the shields and ripped through the deflecting armour. The universe seemed to stop, time froze and everything was still. All was calm and peaceful for that one instant, than time became a constant once more and the enemy battleship blew apart in a blinding flash. The sweet song of death, the glorious marching song of the Hissho was now being heard in the ears of marked walkers. They are now afraid, and the tide turned to the Forseti fleets.

Kyta returned to his physical form. Sorrow’s Flight was now adjacent to the lead battleship of the marked walkers.



Kei Darkcrest slipped on a helmet and turned on his breathing tank, the company followed suit. “Sing the song of death to the enemy! Die in glory and be blessed to ride the wings of the Phoenix!”



The company ran from the launch bay and jumped through the open bay doors into the void of space. In the void of space, the wings of the hissho are useless. All the company could do was fall helplessly toward the battleship. Kyta could see a kinetic cannon pointed right at the falling troops, but it did not fire. An EMP charge had rendered the cannon useless, its fire team could only watch the approach of the hissho company.



The magnetic boots of the hissho pulled them onto the enemy ship. A burning whole in the hull would be their doorway to taking this ship. Koro fired a blast of coolant and snuffed out the flames. DarkCrest signalled the company inside, and led the way.

Chidi Bademdi



How could this be happening? How could what seemed like a sure victory have soured so fast? Chidi positioned his fleet in waiting for the enemy to emerge from the slip node. The Imperial fleet didn’t stand a chance against his ships. They burned in a bright fire of death and destruction as a welcome to his system. The Hissho, however are a different breed. They had somehow turned the tide of the battle right when the admiral could taste victory on his tongue.



The Hissho had some kind of devastating weapon he had never faced before. A warhead that seemed invincible to his jamming signals. It had blown apart Blue Sigil in one shot. The Hissho took advantage of the hole in his defence and a battleship has invaded his formation and borded landing parties onto his own battleship. Rigel’s Revenge had been compromised.



Chidi’s fleet was now burned and destroyed, what ships remained abandoned him and were fleeing to rendezvous with amoebas reinforcements. His ship disabled, his fleet gone, Chidi was now commanding the fire teams working to repel borders. Eighteen fire teams against a company of Hissho infantry. He needed to buy time for the ship to evacuate and make for the cover of the asteroid field that orbited the edge of the binary star system. Luckily the rest of the Hissho fleets had pursued his routed ships, leaving only one cruiser to cover his battleship.



The CIC was nearly empty except for essential personal. The rest were at the evac terminal, beginning the process of evacuation. Vice-admiral Shogus and Chidi leaned over the tactical holo, which showed a three dimensional blueprint of the ship, with the location of his fire teams and the Hissho invaders. He had too much ship to cover. All he could do was seal all decks and position his fire teams to slow down the enemy advance. The blue blips on the holo steadily retreated further and further back toward the evac terminals, that is the ones that didn’t disappear entirely.



Chidi wanted to scream in rage, but he had to stay cool. He was in charge, and it would not be good to let his teams hear panic in his voice, even as their distressed voices rang over the comms.



“The Hissho continue to advance!”



“They just keep coming, we can’t hold them!”



“By the Endless, Admiral, we need to fall back!”



“Man down, man down! The major is down, falling back!”



“Dusts! They have an influent, we can’t - “



“Ahhh! They’re tearing us apart! We can’t hold them!”



With nothing more that he could do Chidi, along with Shogus set the self destruct for the ship and headed to the bridge evac terminal. The chamber was empty but for a fire team, nursing wounds and praying to the endless.



“Sir!” Saluted a bleeding corporal. “The others have all launched their escape pods, we are all that’s left on the ship.”



“Fine. Everyone in the pod.”



The sealed far entrance to the terminal began to spark and glow red.

“They’re trying to get in!” Exclaimed the corporal. The survivors filed into the last escape pod, Chidi was the last one in, the pod door slid closed behind him, just as the terminal door burst open in a golden tinged wave. Outside the door, a large Hissho glared inside the pod, brown and red streaked feathers, his eyes filled with a golden rage, he opened his beak and roared. Chidi launched the pod and the Hissho and the battleship disappeared from view, a flash of light pulsed as his flagship self destructed. Chidi could comfort himself in the fact that the blast would have killed the Hissho company, along with their influent.

Trying to find the first part with no luck...think you could include a link in the first post?

yeah, sorry about that Raccoon, i edited the links above.

Thanks, now I can start from the beginning rather than jumping in at the middle/end

Wow...just finished reading it all from Chapter 1 till now. VERY impressive work, can hardly wait for the next installment. Would love to see this all brought together, edited, and published somehow when you are done

I agree. I'm really impressed with your story. It fits into the ES universe seamlessly, and I'd love a grand 're-issue' of your installments when you've completed it.

I really appreciate all the positive feedback. Thank you very much!

Gero Kartal



The ability to describe what it felt like to share a mind with another being was beyond Gero. The presence of the Amoeba was always with him. And just as the Amoeba was free to roam his thoughts and memories, and communicate, so to was Gero able to probe into the collective mind of the Amoeba. Whenever he willed it, the memories of the Craver War, the Imperial invasion, the transcendence of the individual to a shared consciousness would flash within his mind like his own memories.



Gero sat in a briefing room where a room full of Pilgrim officers droned on about the status of civilian evacuation and city defenses. Physically he was present in the room, nodding his head along with the reports, mentally he was on the edge of the solar system. The outer pilgrim fleet had been joined with the amoebas and were engaging the Hissho and Imperial invasion forces.



In the briefing room, a colonel pointed to a blueprint of Legacy that materialized on the wall. Highlighted on the city plan were the locations of G2S cannons that formed a defensive web around the city. “As you can see, we have wasted no time in establishing these defensive cannons. Any Imperial ship foolish enough to enter orbit within reach of Legacy will be welcomed by a barrage of positron torpedoes, decay slugs, and disruptors.” The colonel beamed proudly, a pride that Gero could not share. He knew what awaited them out beyond the planet’s atmosphere.



“Very good, Colonel,” nodded Gero as his mind focused on the two fleets closing in on each other. An imperial battleship, flanked by two destroyers blazed forth with a volley of missiles toward the amoebas and pilgrim fleet. The jamming signal went out, frying the homing systems of the projectiles, causing them to miss their marks.



A neurobot filled Gero’s cup with hydrotea. “Ahh, thank you.”

“Your welcome, sir,” said the droid.



Beyond the battle, as another volley of torpedoes were being thrown from both sides, out in the asteroid field, an amoebas adenon escorted a pilgrim cruiser through a chaotic barrage of rock to recover dozens of escape pods and speed them back to Xenophros.



An old crusty general, Worne Karga stood as the Legacy plan dissipated from the wall and the terrain surrounding the city appeared. General Karga had been with Ziecheal when he first separated from the Empire. She was the first to admit that in space, she was out of her element. But put solid ground beneath her feet and an army to command, and she could work miracles. “That’s enough, Colonel Azbi. The fleets amassing at the string node will swat away your cannons like wasps. Lets not have any illusions on the odds we face. Our purpose is to buy time for the Errant Fleet to put some distance between itself and Xenophros, than we can focus on winning this war.”



Gero nodded in agreement. Back at the battle, the Hissho ships had already soared into close range of his fleet. He could have never thought anything to be so fast. Rounds of kinetic fire decimated the fleet. Ships burned and fell before the awesome firepower of the war birds, particularly a single hissho battleship, it had to belong to a chief. The way it lead the formation, the smaller ships trailed behind it, meant that leaders of the Hissho were aboard that vessel. An amoebas lysos, similar to a cruiser had de-cloaked just above the alpha battleship. The smaller hissho ships behind broke formation to line up a shot on his feeler, rather, the Amoeba’s feeler. However, they were too late. Lysos lower tentacles stretched out and wrapped around the Hissho ship, pulling it up against it, as if to swallow the great ship.



General Karga pointed to a series of structure surrounding Legacy, “As you can see, this network of impervious bunkers will be adequate in keeping the city protected from ground forces. If the Endless will it, we can buy enough time for our engineers to finish the Gluon Cannon.”



Gero nodded as he gripped his chair’s armrests tightly. Hundreds of feelers that made up the lysos vessel blasted through the hull of war bird. The Hissho within were fierce. In his mind’s eye he could see the flocks of birds draw swords and cut swaths through the invaders. A bird with a gold patch on his forehead grabbed Gero by the neck and sliced through him. He screamed before he realised it wasn’t him who was stabbed but a feeler.



The room of officers looked at him with alarm. Gero flushed. Everyone knew of Gero’s connection with the Amoeba, and the realization of Gero’s behaviour and its connection with the fate of the outer fleet soon caused a sense of dread to overtake the room.



Karga cleared her throat. “That will be all people,” she motioned toward Gero, “I’m sure the governor is pleased with all of your preparations. Dismissed.”



Gero still couldn’t believe Ziecheal appointed him as governor of Xenophros. Before the Rigel exodus, Gero had been shuffled around to newly made colonies, helping them to become more established until one of Ziecheal’s inner circle came along to replace him. He guessed his link with the Amoeba had made him an ideal candidate for the job.



Worne sat down beside Gero. Her eyes regarded him coolly. She was a Paladin. A sacred warrior monk of the Pilgrims, and she did not like taking orders from a young missionary. That much was plain, but even she could not deny the uses of his connection with their sea dwelling neighbours. “The outer fleet?” She asked.



Gero knew they were mostly destroyed and in full retreat. He closed his eyes and shook his head. The general sighed. “They will be here soon,” she said, “Three days to reform their ranks, maybe four. The good news is that the Errant fleet will be ready to take off in forty-eight hours. But we won’t be leaving with them. Ziecheal has made it clear that this will be our last stand. The Paladin Order will stay behind, and you as well.”



“I know. We cannot leave Xenophros…. There is something here that needs to remain hidden.”



Worne’s face flashed with curiosity. “What do you mean?”



“Amoeba has been keeping a secret from me… It says that I am not ready. I’m… I’m afraid of what will happen when, whatever it is, falls into the wrong hands.”



The old general shook her head. “I don’t trust that thing you have in your head. Look, the Sophons have opened diplomatic channels once again, and have agreed to help in the defence of this system. As we speak Ziecheal is organising a final defence of this planetary system with the Sophon Council. Everything was fine until that friend of yours came along and muddied the waters. It is to our old friends we must rely on. Now get some rest, Governor. The Errant Fleet launches in 48 hours.”



Gero went to his chambers aboard the primary vessel of the Errant Fleet. It was a large Missionary class ship, equipped with 1.5 million cryo pods, and living systems for another 500 thousand. The ship had its own fusion reactor which served as a power plant for all of Legacy, that is until they built another plant within the old Endless ruin. There were also another dozen missionary vessels around the ship, all grounded and being prepped for the exodus.



Gero collapsed on his bed, exhausted.

“Gary?” he said to the darkness.



A voice answered, “I am here, Gero. The outer fleet is on its way back to Xenophros. The outer defences have been destroyed. More of your Empire’s ships have entered the from the slip string. I am sorry.”



“It’s okay, Gary.”



“Gero, are you okay?”



“I miss her, Gary”



“Get some sleep, Gero. You will feel better, trust me.”



“When will I be ready?”



Its only answer was silence. Gero closed his eyes and fell into a dream.



Gero ran along the jungle floor, the sounds of battle could be heard in the sky above. He felt compelled to go back, to find his way to the fight, but something drove him forward. The jungle trees gave way to a clearing. He stepped out into the sun soaked grass. A twig snapped, he fell but the ground did not catch him. Instead Gero found himself falling into a deep, dark pit.



When he finally reached the bottom with a loud smack, his surroundings were cast in darkness. The blackness was so oppressive, so heavy that he could not stand. He crawled through the dark on his hands and knees. The shadows seemed to hold him down. Fear rose up from within and seemed to choke him. He thought he could perceive a faint light in the distance. He crawled toward it. Yes, it was indeed a light. It grew as he drew near. A brilliant golden light drew back the dark curtain and Gero was able to stand. It was Therna Ubantri, she was the source of the light!



“Therna!” Cried Gero, overcome with joy at the sight of his lost friend. He ran forward and embraced her. “I’ve missed you so much.” She pulled back to face him, her arms gripped his shoulders. She rose one hand above his face, and tapped the middle of his forehead.



Tap!



“Ow! Therna, that hurt.”



Tap!



“What are you doing?”



Therna smiled. “I’m waking you up, Gero”

Tap!



“Time to wake up, Gero.”



Tap!



“Wake up!”



Gero awoke in darkness. Funny, he didn’t remember turning off the lights.



“Lights on,” he commanded. No response. He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach. Something was terribly wrong.

Hehe, interesting ending in the last part

There was an urgent knocking on his cabin door.



“Governor Kartal, are you in there?” said the voice on the other side.



“Yes, I’m in here. What’s going on?”



“Sir, we’ve lost power to the Errant Fleet, communications are down as well. Lieutenant Pettit requests your presence at the security office. Please stand by, sir. I’m going to override the door controls.”



After a minute the door was heaved open. On the other side a solider saluted. “Sir! Major Nocks at your service,” The tall lean major nodded toward another solider beside him, “this is Corporal Vasquez.” The trooper beside him stiffened her back and saluted.



Gero nodded to them both. “Whats the status of the fusion reactor, Major?”



“We don’t know, Sir,” answered the Major, concern edged in his voice. “As I said, comms are down and Lieutenant Pettit requests your presence at the CP.”



Vasquez handed Gero a flashlight, and the two troopers lead him down the dark corridor. The situation was bad. There were currently some sixty thousand civilians under cryo sleep. Each cryo chamber had backup batteries that would last twelve hours before going offline, than each chamber would begin emergency waking of its inhabitants. The result would be sixty thousand civilians having to undergo reorientation, and at least five percent may not wake up at all. If power is not restored soon, their evac timetable will be pushed back at least a week.



At the end of the hall, before an elevator, a solider stood guard. Though his exposed chin gave no emotion, Gero could sense worry in his eyes, hidden behind his reflective HUD visor.



“Remain at your post, Private” said the major, “comms will be up momentarily.” Major Knocks turned toward Gero, “the lift is offline, Sir. We will have to take the stairs.”



Gero and his two companions raced up a flight of stairs. At the next level up Vasquez heaved open a door and lead them to the security office.



The office was lit up with emergency batteries. The walls of the room were lined with mostly empty desks and monitoring terminals. Several soliders sat at the desk watching blank screens. The center of the room was a Tactical Map. The map was dark, usless until comms and power were restored. Leaning over the map was a bald man, a flack vest covering his broad shoulders, thick arms and heavy gut. He was in deep concentration over the map, as if his will alone could bring power back online.



Major Nocks saluted the bald man, “Lieutenant Pettit, I’ve brought the governor.”



Pettit looked up from the map. “Very good, major.” He pushed away from the map and took a step toward Gero. “The situation is bad, sir. Ten minutes ago we lost comms within the fleet, right after that, power went dark. I’ve sent a team to secure the comm relay and make any necessary repairs, but they have yet to check in, and until the relay is operational, I am relying on runners for updates. The last runner I sent, has not returned.”



The lieutenant did not need to state the obvious. Comms and power both cut, the fleet had been infiltrated. The Empire would not risk pilgrims escaping the planet. They would do what they could to keep them here so they could carry out their genocide.



“It is imperative that the fusion reactor get back online lieutenant. We cannot sit by and wait for comms to open up.” Gero nodded toward Vasquez and Nocks, “give me these two solider and I will make for the reactor and I will secure it myself.”



Pettit blinked in disbelief, “You…. Sir, I cannot send the governor of Xenophros to secure a reactor. Major Nocks can see to the reactor. It’s best if you remain here.”



“I’m not asking lieutenant, I’m giving you an order.” Gero had no idea what was coming over him. He was an administrator, not a solider. Indeed, Pettit was right. This task was best left to a seasoned veteran such as Nocks, but Gero was not feeling himself. Besides, the evacuation of the Errant Fleet was his responsibility. It was up to him to see the reactors online so the fleet could take off on schedule.



Pettit shook his head, “Karga is going to have my head for this.” He nodded toward Nocks, “Major Nocks, escort the governor to the reactor, Vasquez you go too. Allan, Ivnov, you both go too. See to it that nothing happens to Kartal, and governor, send a runner as soon as you get to the reactor. I’m tired of being in the dark.”



Gero nodded in agreement. After suiting up in a flack vest, combat helmet and a disruptor rifle, Major Nocks lead his team toward the reactor. Nocks took point, behind him was Vasquez then Kartal, then the two privates, Allan and Ivnov bringing up the rear. The fire team needed to make their way to the very bottom of the ship. They were running down the staircase when Gero was overcome with a strange feeling radiating from his gut. A strange electrical feeling seemed to flow up to his head. He felt weightless, it was as if he was flying down the stairs. He stopped and gripped the banister along the staircase to keep himself from floating up into the air. Allan and Ivnov stopped behind him.



“Are you okay, sir?” asked private Allan, after nearly crashing into Gero.



Gero was floating up the staircase, looking down on himself as his body held the hand rail. He could see Nocks and Vasquez stop and backtrack to check on Gero’s body. He continued to float up the stairs, walls gave way before him as he flew through them toward the comm relay. A pilgrim solider lay dead in a pool of blood. Within the relay chamber, three pilgrims duck down behind a bulkhead, the bodies of six of their comrades lay dead at their feet. At the relay panel, behind a protective barrier was a line of Imperial shock troopers firing upon the pilgrims, twelve in all.



Gero permeated through the surviving pilgrims. The dust in their blood rushed to the heads of the soldiers, firing energy into the synapses’ of their brains. All fear shrank away from the three troopers, they could anticipate their victory over the shock troopers. They peeked up from the bulkhead, time seemed to slow, they lifted their rifles and unleashed a stream of kinetic fire into the enemy fire line. One by one their shells ripped through the shielding of their enemies, ripping through their bodies, sending bits of bone and flesh into the relay panel.

“Governor Kartal, Sir? Are you okay?” Asked Major Nocks.



Gero took a deep breath, and released the hand rail. What just happened? “I’m fine, Major. Let’s keep moving.”



The team continued down the stairway. When the whole team was breathless, they finally reached the fusion reactor. They turned a corner and were met by a blast of energy beams. Nocks signalled and Vasquez took point on the fire team and returned fire into the reactor core.



“Check your fire!” Warned Gero, “one wrong shot and the reactor will send us to the Endless.”



“Allan,” shouted Nocks, “Get back up to the CP and let the LT know -”



A voice roared over the comms, “Major Nocks, report!”



Allan sighed in relief as comms went back online.



Nocks hollered into his mic. “Lieutenant, we’ve met resistance at the reactor, Imperial troops have compromised the fleet. Sir, they have demo charges place around the core!”



“Solid copy, major. I have intruders all over the ship. I can send reinforcements but it will take time for them to get there.”



Gero shouted into the comm as blasts of kinetics forced Vasquez to cower behind the wall. “Lieutenant, send word to General Karga for reinforcements immediately.”



“Already done, Sir. However, Legacy is under attack as well, a series of explosions have rocked the city and all of Karga’s forces are occupied with finding the infiltrators.”



Gero thought for a moment. “What targets were hit in Legacy?”



“A few apartments and a merchant tower, nothing important as of yet,” answered Pettit.



“All vital locals are adequately guarded. These bombings are clearly a distraction from their real objective, disabling the Errant Fleet. Tell General Karga to send recon and rescue teams, tell her that I order it!”



“Yes, Sir!”



Just then, a sphere rolled from around the corner. “Grenade!” Yelled Vasquez, the fire team retreated before the sphere exploded, sending a shockwave of shrapnel into the fire team. A shard went through the eye of Nocks, Allan’s throat was torn away, and Ivnov’s chest was split open. Only Vasquez and Gero were left alive, but Vasquez was badly injured, a shard of steel stuck through her shoulder and had her pinned to the wall. She groaned in pain. Gero rushed to her, unsure of what to do, only able to give her empty reassurances as lieutenant Pettit begged their status over the comm.



“Well, well, what do we have here,” said a voice of steel behind him.



Gero turned to face the voice. Flanked by four shock troopers was an Imperial officer, wearing black and red plate armour with a jet black helmet, fashioned to the likeness of a skull. The standard uniform of all Imperial shock commanders. Their weapons were drawn on Gero.



“This one looks different than the regulars,” said one of the troopers.



The commander took a step toward Gero, looking him up and down.



“An engineer?” asked one of the others.



“No, I don’t think so. Your name and rank, solider,” demanded the imperial commander.



Gero raised his chin confidently. He would not let these men see any fear. “Gero Kartal, high missionary and governor of Xenophros.”



The troopers laughed and hooted, but the commander only continued to stare.



“Woot! If you’re the governor than I’m the bloody emperor.” laughed one of the troopers.



“Shut your mouths!” Shouted the commander, “Secure the prisoner!” He looked toward Vasquez, grunting in pain, pinned to the wall. “End her crying.”



Three troopers stepped toward Gero, the fourth raised his kinetic rifle and took aim at Vasquez. Gero felt that same electrical sensation he felt at the stairwell. “Don’t you touch her!” He said in a strange voice. A voice that wasn’t his, rather a deep other worldly voice that seemed to come from some other plane of existence. He felt a burning in his eyes, the troopers all froze, the three that had been approaching him now took steps back.



The commander growled, reached for his sidearm and took aim at Gero. Gero perceived the dust within the Commanders vains and willed them to begin emitting heat, so much so that the commanders blood started to boil. He screamed as smoke seeped through from under his helmet and armour. Finally he dropped to the floor in dead silence.



The four troopers dropped their rifles in surrender. Gero willed the Dust trigger systems of the demolition charges to deactivate.



“Lieutenant Pettit, the reactor is ours once more. I need engineers here to power up the systems and medics on the double . This attack has set back evacuation another day, I want this entire ship clean.”



“Yes, sir! I’m on it.” Answered the lieutenant on the comms.



Vasquez groaned on the wall beside him, “What in the endless was all that?!”



Gero laughed, “Dusts if I know.”

O.o suspenseful... Can't wait to see sowers in action!

Keep on the 'endlessly' fantastic work ^____^

Very good, i like the atmosphere!