The Great Adventure
The Great Adventure: To What End?
Chapter One: The Conflict
Some individuals can't be content with simple things. Some can't ever be content with the grand scheme of life. Many decide that what fate had set out for them was chaffing and stopped them from being what the want to be. Life still goes round, the endless circle that, at least for the near future, shouldn't ever end. Then they say that necessity is the mother of all creation. If this is true, then never should anyone fear anything, for individuals will always merge and create something to counter the threat. But what if that threat could also create; it could also learn and react to the threats sent against it. This dangerous circle could continue, never finding need to stop. One would counter the other. Yin and yang, the paradox. Only intelligent beings can create good or evil. Basic animals don't distinguish such things. Evolution sorted that one out, but lapsed when it created intelligent life. Or was it deliberate, that when a thing of such wonder as life was created there had to be something of equal importance that would wipe it out. Such philosophies could continue to endless extremes, intelligent life arguing till its blue in the face of the pro's and con's of such a subject. In the end however, it all comes down to the individual, the moment and the soul...
The door slid open with a subtle hiss; it's well lubricated hinges silent and secure. It was a simple door, one probably of many in this area alone, all made in mass. It had a simple purpose and was utterly dedicated to it. It didn't sway or stop performing this purpose until it was broken or destroyed. It was a barrier to the outside or inside. It was utterly reliable. All these qualities were on a checklist of the designer, and he had to create and craft this simple door. These qualities however, thousands of light years away were being wrote down in another publication, at the same time in space, but also at the same time thousands of years in the past. It was called the manuscript of the Jilok, and it was to become not only a way of life, but also a law system, something to hold on to when all else had departed, when madness had descended and death in all its myriad of forms was knocking on the door and panic had started to set in...
*****
The trenches were well drawn. They were some of the securest ever built by the engineers of the Draconic Reclamation Force, and every rank of this sub section, from low to high could be proud of their achievement. Planning was the key to their success and years of practice, design and specifications that had been adapted and buffed over from the many other conflicts they had partaken in. Precise and practical, to give maximum defence and offence and at the same time be liveable in and secure. With the front walls meters thick, they would stand the testament of both time and damage. Small construction had begun in many sites, the turtle trenches forming quickly overnight to stretch almost fifty meters forward, under cover and unnoticed by the enemy. As long as the weather stayed in favour of the DRF they would prevail. This world had to fall like so many. It was uncivilised by the standards of the Draconian Empire, but it had to be, for lack of a better word, subjugated in order for it to better serve the Empire. If they could bring civilisation to thousands of other worlds, then this should be no different. It was, all in all, for the good of the galaxy, so they can stand united against anything or everything...
*****
"May I, most honourable gathered lords, be able to place my humble knowledge into your most intellectual midst?"
The gathered Generals and Admirals of the fleet raised the heads from around their large table and, with obvious disdain, sighed. Most just ignored the person who had just entered, but some just stared at him with obvious disdain.
"What is it Chancellor Haul?" replied a gruff and obviously tired voice from the end of the table. It was Admiral Cresol, the best liked and responsible, not to mention aged of the group. He had lost his right paw in a boarding action in some now forgotten battle when he was a just a junior officer, though his replacement mechanical paw was very useful he found for opening up the skulls of any enemy or annoying lower ranked pea brain officers.
"I would just like to inform you, my most esteemed lord, that the code of conduct and warfare, chapter twenty three in paragraph two lists the exact parameters of warfare, that we, the Draconian Empire, must abide to lest we be lowered to the status of those we fight. We must therefore take into account the parameters and abide to them. Contrary to General Julio's beliefs that poisoning the water supply is an honourable tactic and, let's not mention the most esteemed Admiral Tulios most noble tactic of simply carpet bombing the area with high powered thermo nuclear devices, I being the most esteemed and senior of the Councils representatives have the honour of informing you that all the thirteen representatives of the council have read your report and have decided to enforce there will upon you all. They simply will not allow the destruction of the enemies army, as this a great resource to us, nor will they allow under any circumstance the enemies civilians to be engaged by any means. Diplomacy, it seems is to be the winner in this argument gentleman and ladies, and I have been chosen as the diplomat"
The Generals and Admirals of the Army and Navy stood up form the table, shocked and angry, all twelve visibly growling at the idiot who stood before them, reviling in his own ego. The light was dull and its main source was from the hologram map that was being constantly updated from advisors from the planet below. It was no more than twenty seconds after the shocking statement to the assembled that a small, insignificant red dot appeared on the map, right in the middle of the trench line programmed into the 3D map. It might have gone unnoticed had it not been for the razor sharp eyes of Admiral Cresol.
He smiled and ushered to the two Military Police by the door.
"Remove this fool from our presence, will you, and take him to his quarters where he is to remain, until further orders"
The two foxes smiled, saluted and grabbed the chancellor by the arms roughly before dragging him roughly to the door.
"You cannot do this you inbred! I am in control here! I will have your rank for this" shouted Haul, his tail dragging behind him.
"On the contrary, my Lord Haul, we have just been attacked, and that is a complete override of your orders via Code of War passage twelve chapter ten of the Jilok. I am now in control here again until the world is civilised"
Haul screamed and shouted as he was dragged away.
The assembled Ranks smiled and seated down again, and Cresol poured himself a glass of fine red wine from the pitcher in front, before speaking to the commander behind him.
"Commander, alert all captains of all ships to go to red alert, full battle stations. Scramble fighter wing to intercept at low level engaging enemy forces on planet side surface. All weapons are authorised by my authority. All forces to engage maximum force. Scramble Response Force One from this ship to act as relief force and reserves planet side. Intelligence is to be alerted to double efforts and not to let us down again. Oh, and laser strike the entire surrounding area of the battle field. Start three clicks off target and walk to effect. Order some coffee and patch me through to General Eralius planet side, tell him help is on its way ETA ten minutes".
Things just got interesting again...
*****
"Alpha one, you are clear to engage, begin attack run on coordinates zero two three zero zero one, over"
The static over the intercom was deafening as the radio observer pressed it tightly to his ear, waiting for any sign of understanding from the attack aircraft lining up at the ceiling of the atmosphere.
With a sudden high pitched squeal three attack aircraft swooped low, stream lines flowing from their wings as they attempted to beat the excessive g-forces from re-entry. Their ramjets thudded in unison as they tried to keep the aircraft level while providing enough power to stop the engines stalling. The flames coming from the plasma engines were visible even over the trenches and foul smelling smog that lingered day and night.
At such a low level, they couldn't miss there target, and suddenly, as if in slow motion, a few dull thuds could be heard, and shortly after the screams of those who had been struck by the deadly plasma flames started to die down.
The observer, Corporal Harding, was furious.
"Tango three to alpha one, why did you not answer fire support calls. That is a breach of protocol, and it can be serious, damn you, over"
Once again, static was all he heard, except for what he thought might have been laughter on the other end.
"Fly boys" he said out loud, almost to himself.
He then felt a large paw on the back of his shoulder and General Eralius lowered himself to kneel next him, a serious look on his stern face.
"What seems to be the problem, corporal?"
"Sir, they pilots are doing it again, there not working together with us and only through teamwork and procedure will we prevail"
"That is true, but also individuals must perform above and beyond the call of duty in order to be perfect warriors in the course of the Draconic Empire, corporal. Later we will charge them for there lack of discipline but at the moment I am happy with their accuracy in the heat of battle."
The corporal nodded.
"Now then to the task a hand" smiled Eralius. His armour was already around him and he tensed his body every second or so to keep blood and adrenaline pumping through him.
He looked over the trench wall and his armour took a quick scan of the area. There were far too many enemies to hold against.
"Corporal, request immediate reinforcements"
The young wolf nodded and started frantically speaking into the handset.
Eralius strode from his command bunker and immediately was followed by his honour guard, five fellow lions and friends all in the armour, weapons loaded and ready.
He looked over the troops holding the trenches from the enemy assault. Everyone was at the battle line, firing into the on running horde. The noise was unbearable and the screams of the dying and wounded very loud and unpleasant to those unused to it. Very few of his men, all five hundred of the Draconic Army that was with him had been hurt but it was a matter of time before the enemy were able to climb the trench walls and attack with superior numbers.
He roared loud and clear, only to be replied by the roars of his pride with him and the other races warriors present. He didn't even need to tell them what to do. Fixing bayonets and pulling out assault weapons, they readied themselves. Adrenaline was high and tangible. To the constant thud of their heavy weapons and explosives he smiled.
"I refuse to die, and I would not ask you to die for me!" he shouted.
"Take no steps back and all forward! Death to them all!"
*****
There were two ships stationed in orbit around the planet that were not cloaked. One was a large military transport vessel, much like a carrier. It was much bigger than the other, more impressive and sleeker looking vessel that was stationed there to protect it. If you were a technician, you would probably be able to tell that the smaller of the two ships was indeed made from radically different material than the larger ship. It also looked a lot more atheistically advanced. All in all, it was a ship that looked and functioned just like a female. If you were to get into the files of the planet that had crafted such a ship, you would find the names signed by all of the architects. It would not be alarming to find that all but two were female. It is a general belief that the two male architects were either overpowered by the females so they could not influence the design, or they were homosexual. It was because of this, that it would be fair to say that only a female would know how to command this ship effectively...
The captain of the mark four type twenty two battle cruiser that was in orbit around the planet was sitting snugly in her large, leather chair. In one paw, she was holding a data slab, going through the general inventory and mechanical reports. In the other paw, there was a large mug of coffee, sweetened with just one sugar.
She sat there, happy in her own little world for a small time, when inevitably, her first officer decided to say something from his chair behind her.
"Captain, I think you should take a look at this"
Salar rolled her eyes and sighed.
"What is it Ramirez?"
The fox behind her patched through his findings to her data slab. Just orders from high command she sighed. Something about going to full alert. She had better give the order.
"Captain, we have incoming. Sensors pick up three incoming ships from planet side" shouted the ensign.
Salar stood up on deck glared at the little dots on screen over the ensigns back.
She patched her way to the main intercom.
"All hands, battle stations, Red alert"
A scurry of activity could be heard from around her.
"Raise shields to full power. Engage forward drives. Arm weapon systems."
There were replies from the ensigns around her on bridge as they had completed her requests.
"This is Captain Salar to Captain De'lar, our sensors are picking up incoming ships, vectored towards us. Suggest full alert"
"Acknowledged Captain, what do you suggest as good course of action?"
Salar pondered.
"We shall buy you time to prepare"
There was static over the intercom for a few moments as the message was relayed.
"Understood, good hunting, De'lar out"
The intercom link was severed.
*****
With a rush and a jump Eralius threw himself over the trench wall, and didn't even have to look back at his force, which followed oblivious to the consequences and outnumbered by the enemy, his words hitting there souls and there honour, there lust renewed to fight for glory.
Eralius hacked left and right, clearing the surrounding area of the enemy. You had to ignore the fact that what you killed was flesh and blood, that they had families and friends. Only concentrate on the task at hand, calm and unbending. His armour was smeared red from the blood of his enemies, and it dripped around his feet creating a puddle and turning the floor red with gore. Another attacker reached him, his gun raised and charging in a classic bayonet stance. Eralius waited for him to get close before moving quickly to the left, grabbing the victim's hair and then bringing his axe round in a swift movement. The body of the wolf was still twitching as Eralius threw the soldiers head to the ground.
The battle was going bad. They had been forced to perform a break out, to take the fight to the enemy and they had almost succeeded in breaking clear, but less and less of the squad sergeants were reporting in from the fighting pockets.
They were losing.
There was only one thing left.
He patched his intercom through to the nearest bomber squadron.
"This is General Eralius, Action thirty one, repeat action thirty one"
*****
"Commander, why is there a ship leaving our very well thought out and well placed blockades and heading for low orbit around the planet we are currently trying to bombard?"
The commander sitting behind the large desk which held all the admirals and generals spoke to an orderly that was beside him. After a half minute or so he spoke out.
"Sirs, it is the cruiser commanded by Captain Salar. She wishes to apologise for the movement, but there seems to be incoming ships from the planet. She is taking action to rectify the situation"
Cresol nodded.
"Good, does she require assistance?"
The commander turned away again and then replied after about ten seconds, slightly blustered.
"Err, no sir, she seems definite about that point. She knows some choice words sir"
"Very well, alert the cruiser next in line to assist in action, no point in taking chances"
"Sir, she didn't need any help" replied the commander.
"I don't repeat orders, commander"
"Very good sir" came the slightly hurt voice.
*****
Flight Commander Froja looked at the scene below his aircraft. He was no more than three thousand feet into the air and below him another five fighter wings were veering in on the target. He had trained for this moment, but when it really happens, training goes out the window. Once Broken Arrow had been called, hell wouldn't be as hot as the area that all several thousand aircraft were now waiting to attack... he gulped. Whoever is down there now better pray and run very fast...
*****
Eralius looked around and took a quick analysis of the battlefield. He couldn't see much of his people still remaining, and the sounds of the aircraft lining up to blow the hell out his immediate area from his orders was deafening. Sprinting, followed by his guard, he lept into the enemies trenches. Dead and dying, of both sides were littering the floor. As he landed heavily on a wounded enemy's chest, he turned, snorting and lifted up his pistol. Empting the magazine into a stunned enemy next to him, he turned and lifted his axe to slay yet another, but stopped. Cowering before him was a female lioness, young and inexperienced, with officer rankings on her arms. She looked up at him with pitying eyes. She was not of his clan, nor had he ever seen her. Without a thought he clubbed on the back of her head with his axe and picked her up over his shoulder. He scowled to his honour guard who glared at him and then looked away.
Patching his com link through to Draconic Navy Carrier in orbit, he shook his head. He really thought he could have won this one.
"General Eralius to teleport room. Immediate evacuation of all troops, do it now"
The enemy looked on as the mysterious troops of the Draconic Empire disappeared in halos of blue light, shortly before they were utterly consumed by repeated carpet bombing from the fighter aircraft above flying from the heavens like avenging angles, thermo nuclear devices scouring the land clean...