"V-I Day" by Joshua Price

August 17, 3246, 0600 hours, Earth time

"Alright y'all, we're entering the system in five minutes," the voice of the sixty-four year old United Federation of Earth Fleet Commander, Edgar Duke, said over the comm-link to the rest of the ships within the fleet, "its time to end this war. Captains, we'll execute this as we planned. Y'all already know the punishments for deviations from orders, but let me remind you that this time 'round, its much more likely to get you and your boys killed. Now order all gunners to their positions and pilots to their fighters and prepare for battle. No doubt Xersat will be waitin' for us. Thats all!"

Despite the grayed hair and wrinkles of his face, Commander Duke still looked like a soldier more than anything, especially in uniform. Only the ignorant would doubt his abilities in the field of battle, despite his age, as had happened just before the meeting when some upstart Phoenix Dominion boy dared to call him grandpa. Lucky for him, he wasn't under his command, so Edgar wasn't permitted to give him a good thrashing to knock some sense into him. He had even felt that urge during the meeting, more so because the allied commanders didn't trust his plans enough to just go with his only. Naturally, it did lead to a better plan that he had part in crafting, he'd admit privately, but he wasn't the type who was used to having his plans questioned, as had been constantly during the meeting...

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August 14, 3246, 0800 hours, Earth time

The aged elf entered the meeting room, early as always. He dusted off his dark green Phoenix Dominion uniform, decorated to the point that it would be impossible to deny his rank of Ground Force Commander, more out of bad habit since it was already spotless, one of the few he had developed during this war after the sights he had seen in those Inix death camps. As he waited the next two minutes, he idly straightened his long brown hair and glanced at his watch, more bad habits he had picked up. Eventually, several others entered as if on cue.

First was Commander Edgar Duke, that human U.F.E. Fleet Commander who occasionally fit the description of an insufferable old man. Right behind him was Command Jack Winchester, Kirkis' U.F.E. counter-part in position, but hardly in anything else, given he was still a bit of a youthful human, just into his thirties. He wore the same dark red and gray military uniform, and kept his black hair a regulation two inches long. Kirkis stood up and the duo exchanged greetings with commander Sylvir before taking their seats.

Roughly ten seconds later the tyrekian girl, that Aerin Zet who commanded the Phoenix Dominion's fleets, entered. Her bluish-green skin almost glowed in the fluorescent light, though this was only really noticeable when you looked at her face or hands. Her uniform didn't allow for much skin to be seen at all. The two U.F.E. Commanders stood up to greet her, though for Kirkis it was unnecessary since he had already been discussing battle tactics with her earlier that day.

Finally the final party entered, about a minute late, most likely due to their lack of discipline as soldiers. They wore rag-tag uniforms that didn't match except by an insignia on the chest, the representatives of the Liberation Army, so had the freed Inix Empire slaves styled themselves as. While they were supposed to represent all five races, the anixian's lacked one, since they were focused on rebuilding their world and social structures, and the quirien simply couldn't survive in the atmosphere, being aquatic beings. So, therefore, only the eelema, natue, and koross representatives were present, though Kirkis really didn't care for their presence at all, due to their lack of expertise in battle tactics, which was what the meeting was all about. Regardless, at their entrance, the four commanders stood to greet them before everyone took their seats for the last time and the meeting began.

"I doubt any of us need to be reminded of the situation," Aerin started, "but, for the record, this is going to be it, the invasion of Inix itself, capital world of the Inix Empire and homeworld to the vanolians. As we know, the bulk of their remaining fleet and ground forces are now stationed in the system. They also have several defensive satellites and ground based structures. We don't know the extent of their defenses, but we do know they have ground batteries and missile launchers on the poles designed to fire at orbiting craft. And as we also know, the space front is going be three forces: Inix, Dominion, and U.F.E. For the..."

"Sorry to interrupt," started the natue representative, "but the Liberation Army has craft as well. Not many, but we can supply some."

"We're aware of this," Aerin replied, "but you're not large enough to comprise an individual force on the space front. So, therefore, your ships will be either under mine or Duke's command, or perhaps split between us. Going on, for the ground front, there'll be four separate forces, which is everyone aforementioned."

"Sorry, but was going through that again really necessary," Commander Winchester asked, "We all know the situation, after all."

"Son, you can never go over the situation enough," Duke responded, "You should know that, of all people, being a commander in this armed force. By the way, whats the word on them Nor'Ree'De ships?"

"The Nor'Ree'De will be attacking a few of their remaining outlying systems to tie up any reinforcements that might otherwise join the fight," Aerin answered, her tone unchanged in the least bit.

Kirkis cleared his throat to gain attention before he spoke, "We should find a way to handle to space front first. If we're lucky, Drezzfit will surrender without us even having to land."

"He's right y'all," Edgar agreed, "space front is the most important here. We should split our forces into three groups while keeping the landing craft ten minutes back in hyperspace time. Xersat prefers to keep his forces grouped together, so we can easily surround them."

"This isn't a ground battle commander," Aerin replied, "you can't surround a large force easily in space."

"Now are you doubting my tactics little girl? I've been an admiral fifteen years before my ten years as commander, I know what I'm talking about."

"Its impossible, theres more than three hundred and sixty degrees to a space fleet's direction, you got to think with a z-axis."

"Now let me tell you..."

"Actually, I think I got a better idea," Commander Winchester interrupted. All eyes went straight to him, causing him to hesitate before continuing, "Commander Zet, doesn't the Dominion have a gate ship?"

"We do," Aerin replied.

"How fast can it warp a fleet, including gate creation time?"

"Five minutes to make a gate to send several ships through at once, only seconds for them to..." she stopped and something seemed to register with her, "Wait, you're saying to use the gate ship to launch an ambush?"

"Precisely," Jack said triumphantly.

"That won't work by itself Winchester," Duke said, breaking Jack's victorious expression.

"What do you have in mind commander?" Kirkis asked.

"You and your Phoenix Dominion fleet sit where ever you're going to wait from. We'll draw their fleet in one direction, primarily the picket and defense rings of their formation. We'll send you the coordinates of their rear and you warp behind and start laying waste to the larger ships."

The commanders nodded in agreement until the eelema representative interrupted the general consensus, "Where does our ships come in?"

"Your ships?" Duke asked, "I suppose y'all be with my boys."

"Then the space front is settled," Aerin said, everyone else nodding in agreement, "Now how about the ground front?"

"Simple," Kirkis replied, "If we go to ground, we should have undisputed control of space and little aerial resistance. Use orbital and air-to-surface bombardment to wipe out their defensive positions and thin their ranks. Send in the ground forces with plenty of fighter support and it'll be a clean-up job. The vanolians never figured out how to make a planetary shield generator, so the ground front should be a walk in the park."

"And the Liberation Army will exclusively be sent to combat any slave units so they can set them free start triggering rebellions, crippling the enemy morale," Winchester added.

"Kill our fellows?" the natue representative asked quickly, repulsed at the very idea of such an act.

Jack shook his head, "No no no! When you confront them, you should be able to trigger them to overthrow the taskmasters in charge of their units. Of course, they'll need your help, but by no means do you need to kill a single slave."

"Ahhh, I see," the representative replied, sitting back in his chair, relaxed now.

"Y'all should concentrate your forces on the capital city so they surrender," Duke interjected, "be the best way of doing things instead of a several month long campaign."

"What if Drezzfit has gone into hiding?" Aerin asked.

"Trust me, if he has any desire to maintain control over what little left he has, he'll be visible," Edgar replied.

"So, is there anything else?" Jack asked. When nobody replied, he continued, "Alright then, as we agreed earlier, the attack will be about 0600 hours in Earth time on the seventeenth."

General agreement was raised and everyone departed to make preparations for the coming battle.

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August 17, 3246, 0600 hours, Earth time

Commander Winchester felt somewhat disappointed as U.F.E. battle fleet entered the star system. As he watched on the monitor in the cockpit of the transport, he couldn't help but be reminded that the ground fighting may never happen, that Drezzfit would surrender before. He so badly wanted to be the one to lead his forces to a stunning victory that would gain much attention as well as hopefully get Duke off of his back. The old fogey, Jack originally had held him in great respect, but it fell away quite quickly when the former admiral didn't return any. Now he just wished he would retire, though is inhuman leadership skills gave him the feeling that Duke would be fit for his position if he was on his death bed in his nineties.

A few beeps from the monitors brought him back to reality. Looks like the fighting has already started.

--------------------------------

"Janson!" Dack cried, "Get over here and cover my rear! My ship isn't designed to deal with these guys!"

"Roger Red 5, beginning my run" returned a calm voice. Soon the light gray wedge-shaped vessel that was pursuing him burst into flames, only to disintegrate in a small ball of fire which was soon replaced by a dark red T-shaped fighter similar to his own.

"Good gosh Janson, you're going to get me killed in the final battle!" Dack exclaimed as he readjusted his pilot helmet in the brief moment of respite he had.

"Sorry 'bout that Red 5," came the reply in an all-too-business like manner.

Dack shook his head, "Quit calling me Red 5. Just because we're in battle doesn't mean you can't call me by name."

"No can do Red 5," was the response, "All other things must be put aside in the heat of battle as per orders."

Dack sighed be answering, "Whatever. Look, just keep the other fighters off me while I make a run on one of the frigates, okay?"

"Roger Red 5, forming on your wing in formation Kappa."

If you could hear three periods in a row, thats what Dack's reply would have been. However, instead he was resigned to not saying anything as he quickly glanced at the fighter's long range radar. He picked out the nearest frigate so he could dump his payload of rockets and return to hangar to, hopefully, get rearmed. He selected a target and reoriented his ship to the new course he had set, Red Seven doing likewise to maintain formation. Streaks of red and purple, accompanied by physical ordnance, streak through space all around their fighters, turning the normally calm, quite depths of blackness into a deadly show of lights and fireworks. However, none of this phased the hardened pilot, even when a shot came close enough to illuminate his dark gray uniform in the otherwise shadow filled cockpit.

He started to near his target and, as he did, quickly queried his ship's sensors to give him a brief tactical readout on the ship. While the ship had suffered little physical damage, as shown when he had the information moments later, the shields were down, leaving a nice selection of weapon emplacements, sensory equipment, and other tempting targets to be blasted by Dack's payload of rockets. However, as expected, getting close wasn't going to be a Sunday stroll.

"Janson, incoming at one 'o'clock, a pair of them. Draw them away from me will ya while I make my run."

"Copy that Red 5, moving into attack position now."

Janson's intercepter split off formation and moved to perform its namesake job. Meanwhile, Dack, began to steady himself, preparing to maneuver his craft through the inevitable stream of anti-fighter weaponry. Never an easy task, but yet if he was to make his run succeed, and thus consequently not get shot to bits, he had to do it while suffering minimum damage, though preferably none. He breathed deep, shutting out blaring chaos around him. Fortunately as he exhaled, there was no sign that some little fighter was going to ruin him. Also, he wasn't sure if the timing could be called convenient, the defensive fire began as if on cue, bolts of purple streaking towards his hull with the only dream of seeing him blown to bits as its goal in life. Luckily for him this time, it wasn't as thick as usual, so he was able to sneak through it quite easily. Once he was closer to the ship's surface, it was far easier to evade, mostly since at that range only one or two defensive turrets could fire on him at any given time instead of twenty.

Janson saw his strike area quite quickly. While it looked nothing like a human version, Janson recognized the ship's short ranged sensors, the perfect target for his run and one that would guarantee less difficulty for the rest of the bombers who would be soon to follow, assuming some capital ship doesn't decide to try out some of its longer ranged weapons on the frigate Janson lowered his ship closer to the surface, ignoring yet another hit to his shields from defensive fire. Doing his best to overcome his instincts to pull up and get as far away as he could from the surface turrets, he lined up the sights necessary to aim his rocket. He then quickly reduced his speed to increase the time he had to fire, at the risk of getting shot more, so he could launch both rockets. The first one was expelled. Janson tried to keep as slow as reasonably possible as he watched a flash of bright fiery light burst from the sensor array as his second rocket loaded. Just before getting closer would be a bad idea, it was ready. He wasted no time in firing and then pulling up at top speed right afterwards. A quick glance back confirmed his target had been destroyed.

"Did you see that Janson? That shot was..." Dack was cut short as a bolt from a pursuing fighter caused his shields to peter out.

"The shot was what Red 5?" Dack asked.

"Dack, get over here, I need you're help right now!" Janson started quickly and loudly as he tried to outmaneuver the enemy intercepter in his assault fighter, something nearly impossible to do.

"I'll be there as soon as I can," was the reply.

"I need you here now Janson! I need you...oh sho...."

"Dack?" Janson asked as static came over the channel. He looked over to see where Dack had once been. All he saw was...

"DAAAAAACK!"

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The huge gray-skinned humanoid, garbed in his blue Inix uniform, watched the action through both monitors and the huge window on the bridge. Well, not literally, since it was really a screen that showed what was on the other side of the wall, but in concept it was the exact same thing. Before him on the screen the vanolian saw the explosions bursting from various ships and points in space, streaks of energy as both fleets exchanged fire, missiles flying through the depths, seeking their targets. From the command ship's rear flank position, he could watch it all safely while supporting the battle with its long range weaponry and its complement of fighters. Indeed from this lofty position he was easily able to control the ebb and flow of this battle. His fleet positioning was flawless, its defensive rings easily keeping the enemy at bay, who were only able to deliver most of their payloads to the picket ring and occasionally to the second line. He admitted that their distance, in turn, was minimizing their casualties, but it would only be a matter of the time before this fool hardy attack was all but dust.

Though Xersat could not help but question Duke's logic. He had only brought those rebels with him, not the U.F.E.s other allies, that cursed Phoenix Dominion and that fox-infested Nor'Ree'De. Perhaps they thought they had the man power to wipe out what they had left by themselves, or perhaps for some reason the other two were cowardly? No matter, this battle was going to be won and it would be the first step in retaking what was rightfully theirs before enslaving those who opposed the Empire. And then, from there, with the U.F.E., Dominion, and Nor'Ree'De beneath their heels, they would be in the perfect position to conquer the rest of known space. After that, should there be anything else left in the galaxy to enslave, it would soon be found and taken.

"Advance the outer rings and move them to the frontline," he ordered suddenly, "We'll maximize the our front firepower and crush their pathetic formations. Its almost a shame that their great commander will be eradicated so easily."

The only acknowledgment of what he said came in the form of his orders being carried out. Over his ship's comm several seconds later came a stream of reports that the ships were moving into position. Xersat smiled, knowing the battle would now soon be over.

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"Sir, the enemy ships are moving as expected," one of Duke's admirals reported over the comm channel.

"Excellent, I never expected Xersat to fall for a plot like this 'un so easily," Duke mused before barking orders, "Simmons, send the signal to the Dominion to launch the ambush. All captains, y'all be ready to move forward and engage at close range when them phoenix boys show up."

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"Whenever you're ready commander, let them have it. Over."

"Thats the signal," Aerin said aloud, "Begin gate creation sequence."

"Roger commander."

The Yenin system contained the perfect image of a well organized fleet prepared to mobilize. Gold ships of all sizes bearing the emblem of a phoenix with a sword crossed behind it were organized into neat box formations spaced out at regular intervals. At the head of the whole thing was a massive ship and one of the Dominion's most highly guarded secrets, very few outsiders knew of its existence. It also was the only one not to match the rest of the fleet, but was rather blueish-green, as nobody had ever bothered to attempt to paint something that massive. Unlike the other ships, it was not brimming with weapons, but instead had on the front what appeared to be one gigantic cannon. The ship rotated to a point that was perfectly at the center some distance on front of the whole fleet, and fired the 'gun'. A bright neon green beam of energy bursted forth from the weapon in sustained fire, creating a small ball of energy not much bigger than the beam was wide.

"Initiating gate creation sequence," a voice stated to the whole fleet.

Three beams, the same in width as the original, slowly exited from the core of what was to be the gate and traveled in a straight line at equal speeds and distances, forming a three-point star.

"Energizing field..."

Each beam then suddenly took a ninety degree angle and curved towards the tip of the beam to its right, connecting to form a circle. This was followed by a filling of the neon-green ring with energy of a similar color.

"Stabilizing vortex..."

The core than began to pulse, as evident by the ripples that were being projected outward from it within the field of green. They start with slow intervals at first, but increased in frequency and strength until the gate looked entirely unstable.

"Connecting and opening destination point..."

The gate then began to change colors, first yellow, then orange, then red, blue, purple, and many multitudes of color, all the while the rippling began to slow and smooth out until it was once again as flat as a pane of glass. The gate ship than ceased to fire and the core vanished. The sheet began to part, causing sounds of battle to fill the silent depths. All those in front of the gate could see the rear formations of the enemy fleet.

"Gate creation successful. Gateship energy levels at 13%."

"Alright, its now or never," Aerin stated, "All ships, forward and engage the enemy at will!"

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"Lord Xersat!" the radar officer called out worriedly.

"This better be urgent!" Xersat returned, angry at being distracted from the battle.

"Highly! We have enemy ships at our rear! The Dominion has managed to warp in through some sort of gate behind us!"

"What!" Xersat cried. Before he could check his vessel shook from a rear explosive to confirm the report, "They've trapped us! I knew that Duke wasn't this stupid! Reform the defensive rings!"

"We can't sir! The Feds and rebels have moved in and engaged them at close range, they're too bogged down to return to formation."

Xersat growled. It would not end this way. Not now, not ever! Yet a tiny voice in the back of his mind he tried to ignore kept telling him this was it...this was the end.

--------------------------------

"Vera, why don't you take half of Firebird and strike at that dreadnought's left flank while I take the others to the right half?"

"Sure thing Isaac," the vixen replied, "Firebirds twelve through twenty, follow me."

A string of acknowledgments came as reply to the moashi Dominion Guard's order. She began to manipulate her heavy fighter, the Mor'Ra'Nu, to fly towards the target. They weren't the only one heading for the huge blue-striped gray ship, as evident by the other squads moving in its direction without any threat of enemy fighters. Vera'Shan wasn't sure if this was the enemy command ship, but destroying a large ship such as this would no doubt help, as it was one of the vanolian's few remaining dreadnoughts, much to everybody's relief. Those things were nasty and any ship smaller than a medium sized capital ship, even in a small group, generally stood no chance against the heavily armored behemoth.

Vera swerved to avoid a shot that still came too close for comfort, briefly illuminating her dark green uniform and reddish-orange fur as well as features resulting in a look that many would consider beautiful. She would have glanced over her shoulder at the shot if she didn't need to focus on the twenty or so others following the first. Fortunately, the number of craft around the ship severely reduced the amount of fire that could be directed specifically at her, but the number of guns still made sure that more than her fair share was available.

Readings from scans on the ship began to display before her on the various monitors making up part of the craft's interface. She stole a glance at the data while trying to focus on avoiding incoming fire. Her eyes managed to catch sight of the enemy ship's shield status: 23% and falling rapidly. By the time she was ready to let loose a payload of torpedos on specific targets dotting the hull those shields would no doubt have since fallen. If it wasn't for the fact that Inix vessels were so heavily armored she wouldn't have needed to even bother engaging it. Once again, however, she was not that fortunate.

"You know the drill," she said over the comm, "weapon emplacements go first. Assuming our capital ships don't blow this thing up too fast, then we'll get the engines and bridge. And keep an eye out for fighters, they're probably rushing over here right now."

She got the expected response of a few acknowledgments as the distance between the small number of fighters and the mammoth ship closed rapidly. Already did the huge wedge-shaped vessel obscure most of what was visible beyond. She was also starting to be able to make out the individual turret positions when their muzzles weren't flashing from fire. And just as she approached, an orange field around it flared to life with a large cackling sound, followed by its quick dissipation.

"Yeehaw! Them shields are down!" someone cried over the comm ecstatically.

Vera responded by lining up for her first run over the ship. The heavier weapon emplacements designed to strike capital ships she would leave to the bomber and assault class fighters. She was more interested in making those slower crafts' job a bit easier by wiping out some of the point-defensive weapon emplacements. She brought her ship up and over to the top of the craft, which got some new weapons to shoot at her. Luckily, she was only one of ten or so already there, with more fighters moving in, so as long as she didn't fly directly towards or away from those automated turrets, she was safe. She never understood why the vanolians didn't upgrade the tracking on those things.

With a few quick entries into her targeting computer, she was ready to engage. She slowed her craft down a bit to ensure the torpedos would hit their marks. Her ship rocked as a result, since she hadn't noticed one of the shots still coming her way. Fortunately, the shields absorbed the blow, leaving her hull unscathed this time. It did, however, remind her she wasn't flying an intercepter, so she couldn't just pull away if she made that mistake again. She quickly shook the thoughts out of her head as the targeting computer beeped with confirmation of a successful lock-on. Vera let loose a trio of torpedos at the targets; the purplish-blue balls of energy streaked across the dreadnought's hull and collided into the turrets with a brilliant explosion of that same color mixed in with the normal explosive oranges and reds.

She began to pick out new targets when something on her interface started to go berserk. She quickly glanced at it and without hesitation pulled up and out of the way as some reckless pilot magnetically accelerated a bomb right at the spot where she had been half a second ago. She gripped her controls tightly as her vessel shook from the impact and a siren alerted her that her shield strength just fell below 50%. She was lucky she didn't suffer any hull damage.

"Check your fire! You almost hit me dead on!" she cried in quickly opened private channel to the bomber.

"Sorry 'bout that," the pilot replied, "Controls slipped when one of those stinkin' defensive turrets hit me a couple of times."

A quick glance at the bomber's status confirmed that he was telling the truth. Vera shook her head and responded, "Be more careful then. The last thing we want is someone to die by friendly..."

"We might want to move," the bomber interrupted as his vessel suddenly pulled up.

Vera was about to ask why when she noticed in the corner of her eye one of the U.F.E.'s Cruisers had managed to move in close and was charging up its disrupter beam. Without hesitation, Vera quickly pulled back on her controls and hit the afterburner and shooting her craft violently up and out of the way of the impending fire, not caring a bit as a couple more defensive shots seared her ship's shields and hull.

Several seconds later, a large concentrated beam of solid green energy slammed into the dreadnought below and kept up the concentration for a full three seconds. Vera wheeled her fighter around and glanced down at the impact. As she expected, having witnessed those things in use before, a good portion of the ship was simply missing, with molten slag forming the rims and interior of the impact crater, quickly cooling in the vacuum of space. Vera was once again reminded of why the Vanolians absolutely hated to engage those cruisers at close range.

"Vera! Are you okay?" Isaac's voice came over the comm, a bit worried.

Vera nodded, more out of habit than anything, since obviously Isaac couldn't see her, "I'm alright. I didn't get hit, my shield damage was from a reckless bomber."

Vera heard Isaac sigh in relief, "Those guys need to warn us when they do that. Anyways, get Firebirds twelve through twenty over to sector 127-3-8. We're going to regroup and go after something those crazy cruiser captains aren't going to vaporize."

"I'll be right there," Vera responded before switching channels, "Firebirds twelve through twenty, form on my wing."

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"Care to surrender Xersat?" said the image of Commander Duke.

"Never you human maggot!" Xersat shouted, throwing an unloaded pistol at the screen, "I'll never surrender to worthless scum like you!"

"Your funeral then," replied Duke before he apparently closed the channel, for the screen switched back to the exterior view of the Crusader.

"Move and engage the Independence! Right now!" Xersat barked.

"Sir, if we move in, we'll be in ra..."

Xersat pointed another pistol at the objecting subordinate officer, this one clearly loaded, "Are you questioning me? Move in and engage! Divert all firepower on that ship!"

"Y-yes sir..." the officer replied dejectedly.

--------------------------------

"This is heavy destroyer White Fire contacting flagship Eresa, requesting permission to break formation and engage the enemy flagship Crusader, over."

"Captain Thomas Marcus," came the prompt reply of Aerin Zet, "Normally I do not consent to actions like that, but the enemy fleet is all but debris, so permission granted, but you are to keep your ship out of as much danger as possible. Over."

"Roger that commander, breaking to engage."

In truth, dark-green uniformed captain wasn't really interested in attacking the ship as he was in getting a good view of watching the infamous Xersat and his command ship get blown to smithereens. Not to mention he had a bone to pick with that guy as well, ever since the Crusader destroyed the Blue Fire, his previous ship, so getting the opportunity to add some killing shots of his own into the mix was always a plus.

"Branson, we're breaking formation. Move to sector 47-A13 and position the ship for a starboard broadside attack on the Crusader."

"Really?" the navigation officer asked eagerly. When Thomas nodded the officer's face lit up with a smile. He too had the same bone to pick with the enemy commander, along with a handful of other men on the ship as well.

"Starboard gunners, prepare to fire on my mark," Thomas ordered through the ship's internal communications, "All others may fire at will at any other threat."

The White Fire swerved as it broke formation, slowly gliding towards its planned position at the rear left of the Crusader, which was already under considerable fire from long-distance weaponry while returning a frightening amount of its own. Its shields were still up, making fighter runs on its weapons emplacements virtually useless. However, several ships were moving in with a number of smaller craft already engaging it with short-ranged weapons, attempting to evade the streaks of red from the dreadnought's custom weaponry, 'Devastator Rays' as they had been unofficially named among many of the Dominion captains. There wasn't anyone in the fleet who was sad that the Inix Empire never got the chance to retrofit their ships with the lethal weapon, for otherwise numerous space encounters would have turned out quite differently.

"All starboard Plasma Batteries, open fire on the Crusader!" Thomas ordered as the heavy destroyer neared its target.

The result of that order was a series of large red bolts of plasma with white centers soaring through space and slamming into the dreadnought's shields, exploding violently on contact, since plasma tended to be a very non-friendly substance to most types of energy shields, including the vanolians'. No doubt another factor that seriously helped the Dominion in many encounters. Thomas couldn't help but smile as the tell-tale orange flash of the enemy's shields failing occurred not long later, as result of his firepower mixed with that of others.

"Captain! We've arrived to the target location," Branson informed, "Your orders?"

Thomas nodded, "All starboard guns, open fire on the Crusader and do not cease until that ship is a hulk of space junk."

He watched as a number of smaller bolts of plasma energy departed from the starboard side on a one-way suicide journey to the hull of the dreadnought. This, compiled with the rest, made for an outstanding light show of firepower being imported to and exported from the Crusader. Somehow, however, the massive vessel managed to hold itself together. Thomas guessed that it either used some sort of new alloy the vanolians had invented but didn't get the chance to put on most of their ships or somehow had acquired from stolen tyros crystal and wove it into the armor, much like it was in the hull of the White Fire and every other Dominion vessel.

"Captain!" called the communications officer, interrupting Thomas' trance-like stare at the action, "We just got message from the Federation flagship Independence. They're about to open fire with their Disrupter and in this position we are in danger of either being hit by the beam or by the ship's impending debris cloud."

Thomas nodded once more, "Branson, withdraw to sector 23-567-9N. All gunners are to cease fire."

The heavy destroyer's shooting died down as it moved away. Some ten seconds later a thick beam of intense green energy ripped apart the Crusader's top portion, followed by another three from other Federation capital ships, literally tearing the mighty dreadnought into shreds.

--------------------------------

Drezzfit, dressed in his highly affluent fare and decorated a few pieces of fine jewelry to easily show his power and wealth, sat on his throne. It would be over soon, the Dominion and Federation would be routed, and his territory reclaimed. Yes, then the Inix Empire would go on to...

"My lord," one of his servants said, interrupting his planning with his sudden intrusion into the room, "a message from..."

"Xersat?" Drezzfit interrupted, "Its about time he informs me of his victory."

The servant shook his head, trembling, "No, from the enemy commanders. They're about to broadcast over frequency twenty-seven."

"Put it on then," he ordered sternly, "I want to see these dogs surrender. It'll be like a sweet melody to my ears."

"Drezzfit," a female's voice flooded the room, no doubt that Dominion commander Zet, "your fleet in space has been vanquished. You are to surrender unconditionally, your men are to lay down their weapons, and you are to present yourself and your leaders to be taken and tried for your war crimes."

Drezzfit smiled at the silly ploy as he picked his comm-link device, "Little girl, I can see right through your plans. Watch."

He tinkered with the comm so he could contact Xersat while the fools with their trickery could hear him, "Xersat, this is Drezzfit, report your situation."

Nothing.

"Xersat? Xersat come in. Commander Xersat, I order you to reply immediately!"

Still no reply came.

"I'm impressed girl," Drezzfit replied after a few moments of silence, "but don't think a little victory in space is going to secure you victory. If you want this world, you're going to have to come down and get it."

"Listen you scumbag," an older, male voice came over the comm, likely that Federation commander Duke, "Y'all think you're somethin' don't y'all? Well, theres no chance y'all are going to win this war. Now, I'm asking for the last time, lay down them weapons and come out and surrender."

"Human maggot!" Drezzfit shouted in reply, "The day you tear down this empire will never come! I'd like to see your puny forces come down and make me surrender. I'll fight you until none of you are standing! You hear me scum?"

There was a long silence before Duke's response came, "Its y'alls funeral Drezzfit. Y'alls funeral."

--------------------------------

"Hey Phoenix boy, how 'bout we see who can nail the most targets?" Greg taunted over a channel to the first Dominion bomber he saw.

"What was that Earthling?", the pilot replied just as competitively, "You think you can take on the great Adrian? Yea right! No Fed is gonna demolish more of these bums than me!"

"I take it I'm on then?" Greg asked in a cocky manner, despite already knowing the answer.

"Ohhh yea, you're on man, you're on!" Adrian responded in an equally egotistical style.

"Alright Phoenix boy, form on my three and the moment we hit fifteen thousand we're starting."

Adrian responded by complying with the request. After all, Greg had made the challenge, so it was only customary that this Adrian form on his wing and not the other way around. Regardless, it was a great day to have a little competition, despite how serious this battle was supposed to be. After all, they were going to have nearly total air superiority in this fight, so what was to worry about? At about twenty thousand feet up the pair broke through the clouds. Greg tried to get a look at his opponent, but the glare from Inix' star kept him being able to see clearly. In all honesty, it didn't matter really if he knew what he looked like, as long as he won the bombing run.

"Hey boy," Greg asked over the comm, "Whats your target area you been assigned?"

"Those ground batteries and other defense buildings in this region, yours?"

"Good, same thing here. Looks like we won't need to argue over the point values of different targets."

"Yea, just keep in mind Feddie that missile silos are most valuable."

"Yeah yeah kid, I know."

Both fighters then hit fifteen thousand feet, the agreed indicator to begin the competition. Already some ground emplacements were starting to open fire, though without fighter support, the enemy firepower was pretty light. The only thing he had to worry about was flak, and right now he was too high up for it, though he was going to have to get lower to effectively bomb anything. Greg looked over and saw Adrian had began to dive towards the scorched dead ground below. Had Greg been flying a U.F.E. interceptor and not a bomber, he might have done the same thing. Instead he took a much more shallow angle and began to circle over the target area as he moved within acceptable bombing altitudes.

"Bah, base is protected by a shield, darn wimps," Adrian said over the comm suddenly, sounding a bit frustrated.

"How do you know kid?" Greg queried.

"I always shoot before dropping, and my shot hit a barrier, thats how. Aren't you Earthlings taught the same thing?"

Greg thought for a bit, briefly interrupting them as he moved to avoid an incoming shot, and then pondered it for a few more seconds before giving his answer, "Actually no. Not a bad idea though. Generator protected by the shield or is it external?"

"I don't see it, so its external," Adrian paused briefly and then continued in a more egotistical manner, "Which is why I'm gonna take it out!"

"Not if I beat you to it," Greg retorted competitively.

Sure, Adrian was no doubt not much more than a thousand feet above the surface, if even that, but at his height of four thousand, Greg commanded a much wider area of visual confirmation. He quickly entered some adjustments to his radar to search for any increased energy signals. He was interrupted as his interface beeped at him angrily and his ship shook. Looks like they were starting to fire flak, and Greg was right in the middle of it. As much as he hated to, he dropped his ship in a dive. As he did, he saw the whole area beneath him briefly flash orange and then the color dissipated. His mind didn't even have the time to register what that meant before Adrian's voice came on the comm and claimed the shield generator in a cocky manner. Greg shook his head and didn't reply, but rather focused on getting out of the flak clouds. Eventually, nearly at a thousand feet, they became light and distant enough at the altitude to pull back up and begin his run. Adrian's taunting indicated he had some catching up to do.

Below him the ground seemed to be on fire. Already Inix was virtually lifeless in regards to plants and animals, but the smoldering shells of numerous buildings hit by other bombers below only seemed to enhance that feeling. Greg smiled as he knew he was about to help that image. He quickly chose a few targets and passed over them, his bombs being launched from his ship via magnetic acceleration to greatly improve speed and accuracy, especially at these high altitudes. Despite some hits, and counter-taunts to go with them fired back at Adrian, he continued his descent, quickly reaching six hundred feet and still intent on dropping himself down to four hundred. Despite how much he expected it, he still marveled at the lack of enemy fighter support at all. They seriously had decimated the system's aerial capabilities, and that Nor'Ree'De was keeping the rest busy elsewhere.

Greg dropped a bomb and on its impact was greeted with a far larger-than-expected explosion as well as quite a bit of collateral damage. It would appear he hit some explosive storage area, and that warehouse apparently held some small nukes or, more likely since his eyes hadn't been burned out his skull from looking at the cloud of flame, tons of other powerful explosives. He could only imagine Adrian's face, one he had never seen before, when he told him this. Heck, why not tell him now?

"Hey Phoenix boy, did you get a load of that bang?" he asked in his usual competitive manner.

"Wonder who got that one, was a nice hit."

"You're speakin' to him buddy," Greg said triumphantly.

Greg didn't get a response, but noticed an equally large explosion on the far end of the nearly demolished complex, after which then came Adrian's reply, "What were you saying?"

"Darn it, you lucky son-of-a-gun," Greg replied exasperatedly.

"Hey, theres a reason why I'm the the great Adrian," came an ego-filled replied.

A few minutes later, the only thing that stood of the base was piles of rubble, fitting the rest of Inix's near lifeless appearance perfectly. In the distance all the way to the horizon hundreds similar lights and plumes of smoke could be seen, indication that this was hardly the only place getting softened up for the invasion. No doubt it would have been a spectacular fireworks show to set one's eyes upon had it been night. A green gas had also hovered in the air, the indication that some of those warehouses had chemical weapons within, which has hardly a surprise to anyone.

"So, whats the score?" Greg asked.

"Not bad for a Feddie," Adrian replied triumphantly, despite his words, "You got five points under me. Best anyone from your force had ever done."

"Stupid shield generator," Greg muttered as he pulled his ship back up to return to the carrier. There was going to be more runs once the invasion began, but he needed to restock his supply, as per his orders.

--------------------------------

Many plumes of some were in the distance. Dreslar felt that she and everyone else was lucky. Their town was small and had been overlooked by all those mean fighters. However, the distant fires and clouds of smoke said not everyone else was. Hopefully this was the end of it though. Hopefully those stupid humans and tyreki and...whoever else was trying to destroy their homes was done. Hopefully this was all they were going to do. Why did they have to come and blow up everyone anyways? They never did anything to them!

"Dreslar?" called a female voice from within the white house, "Get back inside, its not safe out there."

"But mommy, they're gone!" the little gray-skinned girl whined.

"Really?" the voice asked doubtfully, but the owner soon came to the door and looked out. Indeed, she could not see signs of anything else happening in the distance, "They are gone! Those fiends have left!"

"Mommy?" the girl asked, staring up at her mother.

"Yes dear?" the vanolian mother asked in the typical motherly tone of curiosity.

"Why do those mean people attack us? What did we do?"

The mother didn't answer for a moment. Dreslar was a child, only five. She was too young to know the real reasons. She didn't even know that the slaves were forced into labor, but thought that they wanted to work for them. A silly idea, those worthless slaves wanting to endure that, but she was young enough to be entitled to innocence for at least a little longer.

"Its because they don't like the others races we allow to live here," she finally lied, "They don't like them and want to get rid of them from everyone. And since we let them live here and work for us, they don't like us."

"But why don't they like them?" the girl asked an in inquisitive, incessant tone typical of children.

"I wish I knew dear, I wish I knew," was the half-hearted answer. She started to turn to go back inside, but a squeaking sound from her daughter made her stop.

"Whats wrong?" she asked.

"Mommy look!" Dreslar replied with a gasp.

The mother gasped too as she saw ships descending from the black clouds above. Hundreds of them, and these obviously weren't bombers, even at that distance she could tell. They were larger, and they kept descending, only descending. She gasped a second time as she realized what they were.

"Dreslar, get inside!" she urged.

"But mommy!" the girl protested.

"I'm not going to say it again, get inside now!" came the stern order.

Dreslar moaned in complaint, but complied. The mother stepped inside as well, hastily shutting the door. Fear shot through her as the implications sat clear before her.

"Whats going on out there?" asked a deeper voice from somewhere inside, her husband who had lost a limb months before while fighting the very same war.

"They're coming down," came the wife's fearful reply, "My gosh, they're invading us!"

--------------------------------

Hundreds of ships converged on Inix, forcing themselves down through the brown and black clouds, heading for the desolate surface. They screamed through the atmosphere, ablaze, yet not burning, as they sped to the ground. Ships, of dark gray and red, of gold and silver, and of many other colors, rocketing themselves with the only intent of unloading their payload of men and vehicles. They came down all over the planet, landing vessels of all kinds, but they mostly clustered near the capital city, where the opposing leader dwelled.

Soon, followed by them were a myriad of smaller ships. Zooming into the atmosphere like a cloud of flies they swarmed the skies. The fighters then organized themselves into squads and began to travel, heading for specific areas to provide support for the ground soldiers. And then, following those small ships can down the massive capital ships, blotting out the sky with their size. Some landed to unload additional troops and equipment. Others stayed in the air to act as mobile command bases. However, those that stayed above did not come down far, but remained well above the surface.

However, this did not go unanswered. Columns of blue armored soldiers stormed out of the towns and bases that had not been utterly demolished. They came out, both on foot and in vehicles. The gray skinned defenders came out with the hardened desire to defend their homes or die trying. They were not going to allow a foreign power to achieve the final victory over them lest they all went their graves first. No, this was their home and they would not give it up. Not now, not ever.

Soon, legions of the opposing armies met. They engaged in combat, explosions from artillery detonating around all the men. The soldiers took cover wherever it could be found, all the while advancing towards the enemy in order to bring their rifles to bear. Speeders zoomed across the landscape, rapidly searching and providing reconnaissance for the slower tank divisions, who creeped over the terrain, turning all fire aside with their shields and armor and returning barrages of their own. Huge walkers with blue markings came to the aid of the blue-garbed forces, but where quickly harassed by the aerial forces of the invader, becoming prime targets for payloads of all kinds of weapons.

The defenders, however valiant, were outnumbered. But it was not the end. They kept fighting, even when units started to become overwhelmed. But they were not alone. Reinforcements, those who had not been able to act initially soon came to their aid, providing back up. New tanks and speeders joined, clashing with those of the invader. However, the attackers were not without their own tricks. Bombers flew overhead, dropping their payload onto the ranks of the defenders, taking out their defensive emplacements and positions, driving them from strategic high ground, and scattering their ranks. However, when the threat passed, the defenders regrouped and struck back anew, their desire to protect their homes overwhelming all other thoughts and ideals.

It was uncertain if the defenders knew how dire the situation was. They were outmanned, outgunned, outnumbered, and outmaneuvered, but yet they did not give up. Even though their friends were dropping by their sides, they kept on. Even when a small group would see a vastly superior force moving their way, they stood their ground. It was time to show their valor, time to show what it meant to be a citizen of their empire. They would route the invader...or die trying.

--------------------------------

Magrel held his head low, not hearing the orders. He knew what they would be anyways: charge the enemy and hope you survive. The odds of that happening was virtually nil. They all knew that, and so did his 'commanding officer'. Task master or slave driver was a more fitting name, as essentially thats what the vile creature's job was anyways. Yet, the lizard knew if he were to disobey and attempt to flee, he would be shot. He could outrun them, but he was very doubtful of his ability to dodge shots from a sniper.

Of all the days to die on, this had to be the worst. Inix was being invaded, and no doubt loosing too! But yet, here he was, corralled by his masters into a slave unit to be sacrificed to the enemy army in a vain attempt to prevent the inevitable. The day where he would finally get to sample the sweet taste of freedom, he was to be executed in 'a soldier's fashion', being shot to pieces as he tried to defend himself with the near useless weapon and armor he had been given. If those vanolians were really concerned about saving their butts, why didn't they give them something that would actually be effective?

He didn't hear the order to march, he just did when he noticed the equally demoralized slave in front of him start to move forward. He didn't care how long or harsh the march was going to be, the end result was going to be the same. It would hardly matter if he died tired or not, because either way he would be dead. At the very least the vanolians were too interested in their survival to break out the whips to amuse themselves, so they were famous for doing normally when marching slave units around. On the other hand, being whipped to death may have been a more merciful alternative. At least he'd die at the hands of his oppressors rather than at those of his would-be saviors.

He had no idea how much time had passed before they finally came to the enemy. He just knew they stopped eventually and that they had walked long enough to tire out his legs some. He looked up to see the enemy in position on the hill ahead. Normally, you probably wouldn't want to charge up a hill that no doubt had plenty of rapid fire weapons while in neat orderly lines. Yet, that was the order. Magrel half-heartedly raised his weapon and charged forward, knowing this would be his last moment. He wasn't the only one to hardly care either, it seemed the whole regiment was of the same mood.

"Stop!" cried a voice from ahead.

Taken by surprise, Magrel looked up. At the top was one of those natue, dressed and armed in a very different fashion from himself...not to mention he looked far more healthier than any he had seen. Behind him were several other soldiers, and not only natue, but also eelema and his own kin.

"Open fire!" barked one of the vanolian taskmasters.

"Lower your weapons," countered the natue as the regiment had raised their arms half-heartedly, "or at least aim them at your slave drivers."

One of the vanolains had pushed his way through the group and came to standing next to Magrel, "You worthless slaves, obey and open fire on..."

Magrel felt blood spray all over him, blood from that vanolian as one of the rebels had decided to put a bullet in the wicked creature's skull.

"Don't you see? You outnumber them! Free yourselves from them! We will help you!" cried the natue.

Magrel, along with the rest of the unit, was all too eager to obey. Feeling new life surge through him, he started to search for the nearest vanolian to take down, to sink his claws and teeth into. The whole unit broke into a riot. Several shots went off, both energy and material weapons. It didn't take long, however, for there were far less vanolians in charge of the group, and it was actually easier than he had heard to take them down. In mere minutes he found himself atop the hill, stating that he was in good enough condition to help fight the enemy and, along with quick meal of edible rations everyone was given, also found himself no longer garbed in shoddy armor and with a worthless weapon, but held an actual rifle and wore an actual personal shield harass. He was given actual military equipment with which he could defend himself and fight with. And soon, he was eagerly marching forth to fight the enemy.

He felt alive. He was burning with life and energy, as if he had miraculously made a full, instant recovery from a life-threatening disease only moments away from ripping his mortality from his body. He was now choosing to fight, he had that freedom now, just as he did the freedom to listen to the squad captain as he led them through the craggy, desolate landscape towards their next objective. He saw the enemy army and knew this was who he really wanted to fight. Finally, he could repay those oppressors for all the wrongs they did him. And if he died, then so be it, for he would die free.

--------------------------------

"Gruggor, watch our six, the enemy could be anywhere."

The vanolian nodded in acknowledgment of the order. He moved to the rear of the squad the kept an eye out for any enemy. They were taking a break from the fighting and finding a new invader to engage. And, fortunately for them, it happened to be one of the few regions on this planet where plant life could actually grow. And grow it did, up into a whole forest. Not a particularly healthy forest, but at least it was alive, unlike most of this world. He sat down on a fallen log, enjoying the rest his legs were receiving. No doubt if the enemy showed up, he'd have to be moving, and he wanted his legs as rested as possible for that.

However, the majority of the enemy was concentrated some distance to the north near the capital. Out here it was mostly was roving squads, slaves attempting to rebel, or the enemy attempting to make a quick supply cache in case the invasion lasted awhile. Hopefully it wouldn't, Gruggor wanted them off this world as quickly as possible. He wanted to see the pathetic humans fleeing with their tails between their legs. But...did humans have tails? He had never looked closely enough to see. Those lizards and fur covered slaves did, but he didn't.

"Hey Rajen, do you think humans have tails?" he asked.

"I kinda doubt it," Rajen replied.

"Well, I was wondering since koross and natue have tails, but we don't, so I couldn't figure it out. I've never looked close enough to tell," Gruggor responded.

"Who would want to look closely at one of those ugly pink skins?" someone else in the squad asked humorously, resulting in a laugh from everyone else.

"At least they look prettier than those...what do they call them...kangaroos," another commented, "whats with that pouch on their women?"

"Yea, whats that for anyways?" asked Rajen.

"I bet they try to hide in them when we come to give them a lashing," Gruggor answered, drawing another laugh from the squad.

"Hey, I bet Sanje knows, he was a slave master before he joined up," someone mused, "Hey Sanje, what are those pouches on those furry slaves for?"

No response.

"Sanje? Hey Sanje, quit foolin' around. Answer me will..."

The soldier was interrupted by noise in the brush. Everyone jumped up, rifles ready. Suddenly, something came bursting out of the brush and slammed onto the ground hard, covered in blood.

"They got Sanje! They got Sanje!" someone cried.

"Get yourself together!" shouted the squad captain, "Its the enemy. Stand your ground."

Gruggor peered into the forest around them, trying to see signs of the enemy coming from behind. The air was still and was deathly quiet. Gruggor didn't like it at all. As much as he remained resolved to hold his ground, he couldn't help but feel nervousness creep down his spine. He couldn't help but feel a whole squad of enemy soldiers would burst forth from the trees mere feet away from where he stood and plaster him. As the moments passed, his anxiety only began to increase. Every slight noise of someone shifting position, or heck, even someone breathing a little too hard nearly made him jump.

He then heard a cackling noise and smelled smoke, followed by screaming with the scent of burning flesh. He turned to see Rajen rolling on the ground, lit ablaze.

"Oh no, not them! It can't be! Not them. Oh no it can't be," someone went on fearfully.

"Blast it! Its the Dominion Guard!" the squad captain cried, "Take cover so they can't see you and blast anything that moves!"

Gruggor complied immediately, hiding behind a group of tightly clustered trees accompanied by a bush. Despite the cover, it hardly made him feel any safer. He held his neutron rifle tightly, trying to aim it in every visible direction at once. Heck, he even aimed it upwards, who knew if those things could fly or not? If humans have a tail, some of them might have wings too! As irrational as it was, it made perfect sense to him at that moment. If someone had told him right now, he'd even believe that humans could breathe fire and turn people to stone at glance too.

He heard another scream and some shots go off. He aimed in that direction, only to hear the same thing from behind. He crouched down, trying to lower the chances of himself being seen, unsure where to shoot. It sounded like all around him his whole squad was being slaughtered. And then after a few moments there was an ominous silence. He peered out from his bush, but saw nobody. He then heard movement behind him. He spun around and saw some twenty feet away a green skinned creature wielding a blade staring right at him. It looked like one of his own, except green and smaller...or was it a green human? He didn't care, he hastily opened fire. The green human dove to the side and out of sight as the shots grazed its personal shields. Gruggor stood up, digging his armored fingers into the trees for support. He slowly stepped out, trying in vain to make his steps silent. He looked around cautiously, searching for the enemy.

"Guys?" he asked, his deep voice sounding small and pathetic, no doubt his helmet muffling it to all outside of it.

He heard another noise behind him. He spun around and opened fire, but nothing was there. He heard the movement again and turned, but it too was not present. It seemed like it was coming from all around, like these knights were toying with him, playing with his mind, attempting to drive him insane. He started shouting nonsense and opened fire into the forest in all directions, not caring if he hit anything. He felt like he was accomplishing something, driving the enemy away, keeping himself alive. Eventually, however, the energy pack on his weapon quickly depleted itself from the irresponsible use. The sound of the trigger clicking and no purple energy spewing forth from the barrel was the worst sound he had ever heard.

His heart started to pound, chills swept throughout his spine. He felt his muscles tensed as the realization that he was out of ammunition. His clouded mind was doomed, but something within it kept insisting that it wasn't over yet. He tried to figure out what it was. He searched desperately, fumbling through his thoughts. Eventually, it occurred to him that he had spare ammo! In his fear he had somehow forgotten entirely about it. He quickly grabbed one and began to change the pack. The rifle spat out the used up one, allowing him shove the fresh one in. Just as he got it, he heard steps in the grass right behind him. He spun around, raising his weapon, but it was too late. He found a blue blade, glowing softly, stuck in his chest. He dropped his weapon and grabbed the sword, staring into the cold green eyes of the human wielding it. The human withdrew it, and Gruggor fell to his knees as he felt life escaping from him. The human turned and started to walk away as his vision blurred and faded. As he collapsed onto the ground and his consciousness faded, one final thing came to his mind.

Humans didn't have tails.

--------------------------------

"Mistress Linara, I hate to be the bearer of bad news..."

"Let me guess," she interrupted, "my father was killed."

"Yes, Lord Drezzfit has killed, you're in charge now."

The new Empress of the Inix Empire, wearing an orange dress, simply nodded. To many vanolians, she would have been considered beautiful. Many humans would have disagreed.

"I knew it would come to this, its time to surrender," she said sorrowfully.

"My lady?" the servant asked, confused.

"You question me?" she demanded angrily. When the servant replied by cowering in fear, she calmed back down, "Open a channel to the Independence."

Moments later, she was handed a communicator by another servant, which had the channel open, so she was told. She lifted it and spoke into it.

"Admiral Duke, this is Empress Linara of the Inix Empire," she tried to say confidently, though her voice wavered.

"Empress? Was your father killed?" the aged human questioned suspiciously.

"Yes, I am the ruler now."

"So, have you called to surrender," the Duke stated sarcastically. If only Linara had the power to kill that old fool of a human.

"Yes, but only on the condition that all prisoners of war are released, all currently owned slaves are retained, we remain a sovereign state, and all former territory is returned," she said through her faltering confidence.

"We'll make no such deal," Edgar replied without hesitation, "Y'all surrender unconditionally or not at all."

"Now you listen here you worthless human," Linara said angrily, but was quickly cut off.

"No little girl, you listen," Duke retorted quickly in a threatening tone, "We got a track on your signal. If you don't surrender unconditionally, all I have to do is give the order and within ten seconds wherever you're at will be a smoldering crater."

"You're bluffing," she countered.

"Y'all want to take that chance?" Duke asked.

Linara closed her eyes and didn't answer for a moment. Was he telling the truth? Or was he bluffing? If the former, she would be dead as well as the rest of the officials who were still in the building. But if he was and she surrendered...but on the other hand, she didn't want to die. And if she died, things would go down hill rapidly for the Inix Empire. Either way, the end result for the nation was the same...

"You...make a very convincing argument," Linara said softly, "I...we surrender."

"Very well. Order your men to throw down their weapons and we'll be meetin' y'all personally within the hour to let you know y'alls fate. You're to be unarmed and unguarded. Understood girl?"

Linara nodded slowly and replied with equal speeds, "Yes..."

She then closed the channel and switched to a new one to give the order to her men to drop their weapons...

--------------------------------

News spread like wildfire. No, even faster than wildfire. Vanolian soldiers laid down their arms while the invaders let out a joyous cheer that nearly shook the whole planet. Indeed, it was a glorious day. The war was over, and they had won!

--------------------------------

Former commander Glenn smiled at the news as it was broadcasted across Tyrekon. He made himself more comfortable in his recliner as he lifted his aged arms to press the button on the remote to turn off the viewing device some may have referred to as a television, since it performed the same basic functions. He chuckled to himself, the news causing him to feel great, almost giving youth back to his old bones.

"Well, this news nearly makes me wish I never retired," he remarked, "I can only imagine what it would have been like to be on the battlefield and hear that."

His thoughts drifted to all the fighting he had done against the very same enemy years ago, as well as all the Dominion Guard he had trained to go out and fight that enemy. It seemed his whole life had involved combatting them, and it was finally over. He did regret he was not there to directly help it end, but he also felt satisfaction that he had trained many swordsmen who had finally put an end to the fighting and brought peace.

--------------------------------

Vera'Shan stared out at the sunset. As bleak and desolate as Inix was, a sunset was still a sunset, and it was even greater when it was spent with a close childhood friend. She turned and looked at the fair skinned human besides her, standing there in his similar dark green uniform, staring at the sunset and the land it encompassed with those green eyes of his. The sunlight made attempts to reflect off of his short brown hair, but did a poor job of doing so, but fared much better in shining through the partially translucent blue blade he held. He turned to her, his face smiling at the ending of the long war.

"So, what now that we're at peace?" Vera asked.

"Who knows? No doubt we're going to have too much free time," Isaac Tigerheart replied.

Vera nodded, "Yea, I'm not sure whether I'm going to enjoy it or get really bored!"

"Very true," Isaac agreed, "I guess we'll have to wait and see. Or maybe we could get married!"

The two stared at each other in silence for a moment before bursting out in laughter at the joke. As close as they were, they still weren't in love, despite the years of speculation from others. They originally were irritated when people mentioned it, but finally gave up and played along, finding it a much better and more amusing alternative. Even still, they were as close as a couple could get to being in love without having anything more than a very close friendship.

"We'd have to drop out," Vera replied after calming herself down, "You know its not allowed in the knights to marry until twenty-seven!"

"I know I know," Isaac smiled, "I guess we'll have a long time to think about it."

Vera chuckled at the thought of what they're kids would look like if they ever were to get married and have children.