It's War.

[Khendon Sevon]

“FIRE!”

Space was suddenly thrown into chaos as streams of red light filled the barrens. Like so many rain drops the energy beams traced their way across the viewport of the Scarlet Madness. “It’s as if the stars were bleeding,” remarked Khendon bitterly.

“Sir! Hyperspace spikes!”

“I see them. Frihtel war vessels,” hissed the Imperator. “Prepare all squadrons! Admiral Saluchious, have the Crimson Rite and Death Knell adjust to hold as the fleet advances.”

“But Sir—“

“Just do it!” The flames in Khendon’s eyes forced Saluchious to back down. “I am in charge of this fleet, Admiral, if you object, there is an escape pod at the back of the bridge! Take it and be done!”

“No need, Sir. Sorry, Sir.” The subordinate’s hard eyes fell back to the disposition hologram, abashed.

“Anyone else have an opinion?!” the dark force user looked around the small room then continued, “Engines to full burn, overlap flak cannons and defensive banks, don’t let any fighters through!”

The Scarlet Madness shook violently as discharge after discharge rang from the Thanatos-class pocket battleship. Energy blasts peppered enemy ships as the Federacy craft held their tight double column formation.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Dust!” commanded Khendon in his most authoritative voice. From the belly of the Federacy ships clouds of spherical pods emerged. Shuttles mixed with the fast moving swarm and sped towards the planet. The mess of craft touched the atmosphere of the blue-green orb and instantly erupted into flames.

“Mobile Infantry away!” confirmed an officer, “touch down in one minute.”

A shudder and groan spread from the bowls of the Scarlet Madness as a wave of energy weapons pierced the powerful shields of the battleship. “Rear deflector screens are floundering!”

“What!” snapped Khendon, “that’s impossible! Shift to the secondary matrix, restart the nodes! Do what you have to!”

“Sir! They’re fried!”

“Admiral! Have the fleet show its flanks to the advancing enemy. Full barrage, permission to disengage safeties on all primary weapons granted. I want them off my screens.”

[Khendon Sevon]

The Federacy vessels adeptly formed a wall of ships measuring four high and two across. Demonic in stature, each ship possessed an imposing silhouette against the planet’s blue-green surface. The planet’s defensive forces—a few squadrons of wedge shaped fighters—reformed near the three capital ships that waited only a few hundred kilometers away from the Imperial fleet.

Shots were flung from the powerful cannons of the opposition and riddled the usually impenetrable Federacy shields. “Admiral, all ships are to concentrate fire on the center of the three Frihtel warships.”

“By your command, Imperator!”


*********************

The Death Knell and Crimson Rite stood only a few kilometers away from the dark enemy vessels. The Frihtel craft were shaped like great spikes with jets of random growths from various positions around the ship. From these protrusions weapons spat acrid energy towards the two Federacy Gunships.

“Shields are about to fall!” screamed an officer.

Lieutenant Kalydine looked grimly at the view screen displaying the horrid Frihtel vessels. “Roller her, bring fresh shields to bare.” It was a tactic developed a few months earlier by Admiral Leyard who had encountered a Victory-class star destroyer and successfully battled it off without additional support. The Admiral’s Gunship had been severely damaged, but he had survived.

A constant din reverberated throughout the Federacy ship. Not one gun stood silent as the battled ensued. “Lieutenant!” spoke an authoritative voice over the comm.

“Yes, Commander Jerhi?”

“Fleet command is going to launch a strike on the Frihtel warship designated Enmity Two-Two-Two. Prepare your main Densa and follow suit.”

“Yes, Sir. Weapons, you heard the man!”

[Khendon Sevon]

A shudder ripped through the Crimson Rite. Every bolt and precision weld groaned with the stress and sudden trauma. “Sector twelve venting! Bulkhead secure… there are twelve people in there,” the officer looked at the Lieutenant penitently.

Kalydine scolded, “what happened?” There was no need to answer the question. The outer displays quickly recounted the tragedy. “Emperor’s bones!”

The remnants of the Death Knell floated past the bow of the awestruck Gunship. Electrical surges washed over the hull as independent nodes attempted to maintain equilibrium. Atmosphere filled space around the metal corpse. Organic shapes littered the displays.

Then the order came, “FIRE!”

The Crimson Rite shook with the force of a supernova as its Densa cannon sent a stream of destruction towards Enmity222. A spasm ran through the fleet as heavy weapons erupted in full glory.

Streams of multiple colors and projectiles of all kinds collided with the Frihtel warship. The unusual protrusions were incinerated by the heavy fire as the hull gave way and holes formed in the black creature. A blinding white light rose in the dark depths then receded. The enemy vessel’s charred remains mixed with those of the Death Knell.

“No time for remorse,” muttered the Lieutenant as he turned his back on the primary display. The young man’s eyes were harsh, his teeth clenched, jaw set. Only a quiver from his lips escaped his attempt at composure. Jerhi will be remembered…

[Khendon Sevon]

A few cheers went up around the bridge, but from the look in each man’s eyes the Lieutenant knew it was half hearted. He had seen enough of war to know the demoralization that still held his crew. They were veterans. They were afraid and the Lieutenant felt they were entitled to be.

The ground underneath Kalydine’s feet shifted and swayed. Time seemed to stretch, the air in front of the Lieutenant to warp and spin. Light increased in intensity and smeared like oil paints on a canvas as the officer moved.

From somewhere outside he heard, “Compensators shorting, internal hull pressure increasing!” Men and women fell to their knees; the Lieutenant staggered forward and grasped his chair. Am I going to die here? Kalydine’s brain felt like a vice clenched it with iron jaws.


****************

The bridge of the Scarlet Madness had grown quiet as they witnessed events unfolding. Khendon’s eyes were narrow slits; loathing grew in his chest, apprehension battered at the back of his mind. One of the three primary view screens displayed the situation; the entire bridge-crew’s eyes were now locked on this single portal.

The Death Knell had exploded suddenly and without warning and they had obliterated a Frihtel vessel. The debris and chaos of the seemingly far-off field were not, however, what caught the crew’s attention. Rather, the flowering of the two remaining enemy vessels was.

It was quite literally germination. The spear-like ships with all of their odd protrusions had suddenly opened like great, black flowers. In Khendon’s mind they symbolized death in all of its perversion.

Still, this was not the most shocking part. One of the two enormous blooms was quite literally pulling the Crimson Rite towards the center of its nearly four meter long diameter. Along with this thousands of fist shaped craft had spawned from the vessels in a hail of seeds.

Khendon stood tall, eyes locked on the screen. His arms were tightly clasped behind his back in military fashion. His black uniform seemed like a funeral suit. Something was wrong, very wrong.

[Khendon Sevon]

Like a pack of hunting animals the swarm of craft moved. Whimsically they floated up and then down in the nondirection of space. Brilliant streaks of blue followed in each craft’s wake so that the formation looked like series of tentacles reached for the Federacy war vessel.

This isn’t going to be good. Khendon frowned and looked at the fixated faces of his countrymen. He needed to say something, to assure them, to give them the backbone they desired. But how could Khendon? He could not even defend his wife, let alone an empire.

Doom fell on the Imperator’s mind and his eyes sank to the floor. What am I to do. A murmur in the force caught Khendon’s attention. He felt around this tremor and slowly coaxed it into life. The imperial suddenly clenched his fist and slammed in into his chair, fragments of plastics going airborne from the impact.

Khendon snarled, his eyes were blazing, his voice filled with hatred and contempt, “Micro-jump! I want us right next to the two remaining Frihtel warships! Charge enmity cannons! Prepare all fighters for mass release!”

The Crimson Rite was nearly touching the closer of the two Frihtel craft. The recently discharged craft were circling it now. A few darted in close and settled on the hull of the Federacy vessel.

Space was suddenly torn open by a mass release of negative matter. Hyperspace exposed itself and nearly instantly the Federacy fleet was accelerated to beyond light speed. Within a fraction of a second the entire group immerged next to the Frihtel warships.

All hell broke loose.

[Khendon Sevon]

Volleys rang through the small amount of space that separated Frihtel and Federacy vessels. Intricate exchanges, dances of light, were shared between the two forces. Fragments of carbon-fiber and odd, charcoal-like chunks filled the distance from ship-to-ship.

Firing ports seamlessly appeared all over Federacy vessels and enormous discharges of orange-red energy battered the colossal flowers of the Frihtel. The dark enemy responded in turn with a rain of gold and silver that danced around the field of battle and smacked into the side of craft with brilliant eruptions.

The Frihtel plan slowly unfolded itself. The “seeds” that Khendon had observed were, in actuality, boarding vessels. The swarm of fast moving, unshielded craft flooded the Federacy formation and, like giant leaches, clung to the outer hull flesh of the ships. Plasma scorched the dense armor as holes were painstakingly cut in the ablative material.

“Breaches!”

“Alert the Marines, order the Storm Guard to action!” Khendon knew not what to expect from the unusual enemy. They had acted so erratic and unexpected that he had hardly enough time to adapt tactics. “Use the ship’s internal defense grid! Small squad tactics, by the book!

“Get it done!”

[Khendon Sevon]

A black mist poured in from the open wound like a Wyrm of yore. It snaked its way over the polished floor and quickly filled the corridor with its night. All over the Crimson Rite sections filled with the putrid, charcoal smoke.

Sergeant Thompson leveled his rifle and pulled the stock tight to his shoulder. His scanners traversed the odd mist and applied filter after filter in an attempt to adjust to the environment. The NCO looked at the black-clad soldiers huddled around defensive positions in the hallway. A bead of cold sweat trickled down his face and was caught by his mask’s internal buffering.

The soldier’s mind wandered to his children on Delteon and their beautiful faces, his wife’s calm, strong words before he left on the mission, and the image of his Imperator’s resolved face. Sergeant Thompson blinked hard and adjusted the settings on his helmet.

Layers of dark shapes melted away like a jawbreaker candy. Bright colors, dark shadows, green highlights, purples, blues, and silvers all appeared in one form or another as the Federal Marine suit’s internal visual processor worked.

After a few seconds the swirling mess solidified. Immediately Thompson’s brows knotted, his muscles tensed, he gave the order, “Take ‘em out!” His voice sounded so distant, different, almost wrong—as if it was merely an echo of itself.

The NCO’s weapon unleashed a hail of energy on the muddy shapes. The soldier’s shoulders shook violently in resistance to the recoil of the rifle. Sounds of energy discharges rang through the noise filter.

A high-pitched wailing overloaded Thompson’s sound compensator and sent his head reeling. He clenched his teeth and fired a burst from his rifle. Shapes began to move forward through the black soup.

The Sergeant’s eyes went wide. “What the—“ Training took over then. Without knowing it, Sergeant Thompson threw aside his sidearm and unsheathed his vibrosword. The weapon ignited in blue flames as its energy field activated.

Within seconds the officer was bringing his blade up to block a slash from the arm of a hellion. Creatures bounded forward and began to sweep through the ranks of the defenders. The walls became blood stained as sharp edges did their worst. It was a red melee. Blasters were silent.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Sir! Reports of hand-to-hand combat coming in from all around the ship,” the officer’s voice was tense, “Imperator, they’re taking control!”

Khendon frowned at this last statement, they’re taking control… The guns of the enemy vessels had ceased since the internal-invasion and the Federacy vessels’ weapons were slowly petering off, one-by-one massive cannons were being disabled, their crews killed.

Screams suddenly filled the mind of the Imperator. His eyes became glossed over. He could hear the dying; he could see burnt flesh, severed limbs, and all of the gruesomeness of battle. “Summon the StormGuard,” Khendon’s voice was low and raspy, like a snarling dog.


****************

Thompson was breathing hard; he could hear his suit drawing emergency air supplies from the oxygen in the corridor. The NCO blinked rapidly, all he could see was the metallic gray of the corridor’s ceiling. The officer felt dazed, as if a flash grenade had erupted next to him. Like fluid, warmth began to run from his body, he gasped for air and numbly swung his arm over his chest. His limb floundered; it felt like trying to maneuver a large, lifeless glove.

Something was on his fingers; it was warm, thick, and very wrong. Thompson fought the muscles in his neck and managed to roll his head so he could look down at himself. His already pale face turned to white paste, his eyes opened in terror.

“M… my,” he felt tears swelling from his eyes, “legs… where, where are MY LEGS!” The veteran began to sob.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s face had progressively knotted into collections of tight muscles as the battle wore on. Now, his brow seemed to be carved from stone. Deep shadows ran along his face at various angles. The Imperator was frowning heavily.

“Imperator,” said a droid-like voice from behind the leader, “reporting as ordered.”

The former Vice-Diktat let out a held breath and clenched his jaw, “Colonel, you’ve seen what’s happening around the ship?”

“That I have, ” the battle-hardened StormGuardsman threw an armored gauntlet onto the command chair. “They’re swarming all over the place, and they take a hell of a lot of rounds to kill,” as if suddenly remembering who he was talking to the officer added, “Sir.”

Khendon picked up the piece of armor and examined it for a moment. He threw the carbon scored, black gauntlet into the air. Before the piece even began descending from the toss, the Imperator had drawn his lightsaber, activated it, and sliced the alien-thing into four chunks of smoldering metal.

“Follow me, we’ve a blood pact to make,” Khendon’s eyes were raging storms; his muscles were tight and exposed. The Imperial wore a simple, black tunic and light, black carbon armor on his legs. The dark jedi’s arms were naked except for dark, ancient tattoos. A demon foe rises from the ashes of my own ship. I will meet it in arms, not cowering on a bridge.

[Khendon Sevon]

The only noise was the steady hum of Khendon’s two-handed lightsaber. Six stormguardsmen followed the leader of the Federacy as he delicately stepped over the corpses of men and Frihtel that lined the broad hallway.

A headset graced Khendon’s face, a smear of shadow in the dimly lit corridor. The silver of the Imperator’s blade gently washed over the chaotic scene of the long-done battle. “This must’ve happened thirty or more minutes ago,” said one of the soldiers as they slowly progressed onward.

“By the heat levels, I’d agree,” the combat engineer replied.

“Boys,” said Papperson, one of Khendon’s most veteran officers, “can it and keep your eyes sharp.” The guardsmen had been having a problem locating the enemy, they appeared on only a few spectrums and those, they had discovered, were not ones that could penetrate the walls of the ship.

The dark jedi led the group, his senses stretched by the invisible hand of the force. “This way,” mumbled Khendon over the comm. link. “Four of them, searching bodies with pikes.”

The group of troopers tightened their holds on their wicked vibroswords. Blasters had problems clearing the shields of the enemy, but blades stripped them of their limbs fine enough. Khendon said something then kicked open the nearest door.

Four, ugly brutes suddenly turned to see the single imperial. Their torsos were thin and appeared mangled, their arms misproportionate and lined with blades and other weapons. Their faces were long and eyes glowed with fire. The sinews of their muscles melded with their rough armor. They stood two or more meters high, dark, demonic, and ugly.

Khendon roared and rushed the four as the walls blew out, shocking the creatures into freezing. The Imperator capitalized and cut the first warrior across his thin stomach region. The resistance against his blade reminded him of cutting through steel.

“GHA!” Shouted a stormguardsman, that had just jumped through the hole in the wall, as a Frihtel warrior clamped a claw weapon on his shoulder armor. “GET IT!” Another soldier quickly removed the offending arm and followed with a blow that sent the head of the alien clean off.

The soldiers made short work of the four defilers.

[Khendon Sevon]

It had taken a long time to find the group of Frihtel warriors. The guardsmen had search and search and scanned and sought. Khendon had finally used the force as a guide to find his prey. In a matter of minutes the smoke had settled and the hunt was renewed.

The Imperator was again leading the crew of demonic-faced warriors through the wreckage of the Scarlet Madness. With a drop to one knee and a fist to the air, all done in a fluid cinematic fashion, Khendon signaled the squad to a halt. “When it rains, it pours.”

“What’s that, Sir?”

“Just an expression.” Though it applied very well to what the former Vice-Diktat sensed. His voice took on a whispered quality, “The entire hallway up ahead is full of Frihtel warriors…”

The stormguardsmen looked at one another. Their armor’s single red eyes pulsated mildly in the nearly black corridor. “Let’s take them,” came Papperson’s voice.

“Alright, boys, CHARGE!” Khendon shouted and, in a fluid motion, withdrew his second saber. The weapon snapped to life, doubling the radius of silver light spewing into the darkness.

He was a streak racing towards a mass of armor-clad aliens.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s silver blade washed the scene in an overly dramatic, deep texture. Shadows were bloated and heavily etched details that would have, under normal light, faded away. The dark warrior growled like a beast as he leapt forward.

An enormous monster blocked Khendon’s path. The creature was twice as thick as the Imperator at the shoulders. A stench like rotting cabbage permeated the blackened corridor. The looming beast’s armor exposed sinuous that oozed a black, thick substance. Its arms were disproportionate and muscles appeared to have no standard.

The hideous being hefted a gargantuan two-handed axe, released a grinding war cry, and charged the leader of the Federacy. Its eyes were that of a dying man, white and unfocused. Khendon snarled and brought a saber to the attack. A thick, stifling, acrid scent swallowed the imperial as he sliced the head from the giant’s weapon.

The beast lumbered forward and, with amazing speed, darted a hand to the dark one’s throat. Black puss ran from the foul creature’s external tendons down Khendon’s armor. With defined rage the Imperator brought his two sabers together and snipped the creature’s head from neck.

Ugly, charred flesh fell to the already stained floor. A swarm of Frihtel turned towards the Imperator, eyes filled with fire. “FOR THE DEATH KNELL!” Khendon shouted at the top of his lungs. Metallic voices responded as a shower of energy rang from the stormguardsmen’s rifles.

Two ponderous waves of armored enemies met. The song of battle rang through the hall.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon threw his left-handed saber at the nearest warrior. The blade sank to the hilt through the armored creature’s head before returning to the force wielder’s outstretched palm.

In the thin corridor six Federal soldiers drew long, thick vibroblades and practiced their strikes on foes with mal intent. The air filled with a red and black haze that burnt the throat and stifled the lungs. Objects, misplaced limbs, cluttered the passageway.

“THE DEATH KNELL!” Shouted the nearly hoarse voice of the Imperator. The dark warrior spun wildly, plasma-blades singing with energy. Silver whips lashed out like hungry tongues and bit into the acrid Frihtel flesh.

Khendon dodged right, his muscles burning with the full potential of the force, and kicked off the wall. The warrior arched his back in mid air and flipped over, dual sabers raining justice upon the horde of beast-like recipients. Nimbly the former Vice-Diktat landed, a smile flashing across his battle-intoxicated visage.

A claw grasped the Federacy leader’s arm and crunched the bone there. Khendon felt a pull on his tendons and took a sharp breath as the pain, like a sudden thunder, boomed through his body. The shocking pulse caused teeth to gnash and grind, blood to run from a bit lip. The Imperator instinctively drove his free fist into the creature’s face, a loud, satisfying crunch signaling the smashing of skull and brain. Liquid ran over sith tattoos on Khendon’s exposed flesh, he was drunk on the blood of Frihtel.

Silver eyes were wide and danced from alien face to alien face. The Imperator found himself in the middle of a throng. Slim, muscular creatures surrounded the Jedi, claws and weapons calling for the death of the man who had slain so many brethren.

Stormguardsmen fought valiantly but were, nevertheless, still ten meters away from their leader. Khendon was alone in the middle of a swarm of frenzied, revenge-wishing hellions… and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

[Khendon Sevon]

Metallic jaws dug deep into the exposed flesh of the Imperator’s already mauled left arm. A river of crimson wet the flesh and hid the black tattoos. The Sith markings drank in the blood, absorbing it as would a sponge, and fed the furnace of hatred.

Khendon dropped his left-handed saber. The cylinder rolled to the ground, its majestic blade hiding within the hilt with an audible hiss of resentment. Enraged beasts leapt at the wounded man, weapons attacking in a hail of vibrating points. All honor had been forgone, every Frihtel now focused on killing the pride warrior of the Federacy.

The dark Jedi kicked off the nearest enemy and swung his biting blade in a wide circle. Opponents were felled and heads rolled. Flesh was separated from bone in great, smoldering chunks. Khendon bent his spine and fell backwards towards the steel floor, his blood wetted hand shakily supported him as he dodged a polearm’s wide swipe.

A powerful snap kick brought down an armor-clad Frihtel and gave the Imperator a moment to push himself off the ground. Swift, precise thrusts found their marks and hearts were stopped. Adept, intricate flicks of the wrist brought a silver serpent to the throats of foes.

Khendon found himself falling towards a corner of the long corridor. The swarm of Frihtel had grown even as the body count had sky rocketed. Sweat streamed down every bulging and pained muscle. The warrior panted frantically as he cut through the wall of black, thick flesh.

[Khendon Sevon]

An off balance sweep scored black, beast flesh. Khendon gasped for air as he wearily swung his blade through the air. Like a torch the silver energy fended off the wolves, but just barely.

The Imperator’s mind had narrowed. One thought wrapped its hands of rotting flesh around the dark Jedi’s twisted soul. The kill rose up in Khendon’s stomach like an acid being rejected and enveloped the warrior of misery.

“YOU WILL ALL DIE!” Screamed the emotionally strained Imperial. A diagonal cut severed a Frihtel’s claw-like arm. The appendage fell to the ground with a thud, fingers squirming as death raced through the cells.

The throng of dark, armor-clad aliens tightened around the Imperator. Scarlet liquid stained the entirely of the Imperial’s left side, his arm limply hung from its socket. A step back found the cool, hard composite material of the corridor’s walls at Khendon’s back. He frowned heavily.

An animal-like snort escaped the dark Jedi, his muscles tightened in final preparation. The warrior fell into an aggressive stance, his only working hand firmly grasped the hilt of his lunatic weapon. Lunatic… we know you’re a lunatic. Look around us, Khendon! Kyry isn’t here!”

That’s not why I’m doing this!

You just want to kill yourself. Admit it! You tried before! It’s about her! The Sovereignty killed her or whatever, along with our baby… Stop playing these games! You know and we know… it’s over. End game.

I will fight until my blood collects in pools! I will fight until this ship, my ship, every Federacy vessel is FREE! I will not bow down to some ALIEN. I, will, not! The Imperator leapt forward with the full might of the Force, his eyes maddened and the color of his glowing weapon. A broad stroke and twisting, mid-air spin cleaved a niche in the mass of demons.

A monster screamed in all of its visceral might. Khendon furiously looked around, fighting as he wondered at the sound. A moment’s realization found the source; the Imperator’s own vocal chords were vigorously, mercilessly shouting a blood-curdling war cry.

No hope… no hope at all. Just the rage. The roll of anger and dark emotion. I will play this role, allow the shadow to fall; but, I will not give up. This is the middle of the story. No more. The chapter isn’t finished let alone the novel.

No. I’ve just started to write.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon backhanded the nearest Frihtel warrior, a loud crunch resounding. Dark, twisted claws groped for the dark Jedi’s body but only found the bite of a saber. A snap kick sent a group of the armor-clad beasts into the nearest wall.

The Imperator summoned all of the darkness brooding in his heart and screamed. A rippling wave of force energy erupted from the body of Sevon and threw down tens of the alien creatures. Khendon capitalized by bringing his incinerating weapon down upon prone, confused opponents.

Roars of rage were released as waves of crazed Frihtel pooled around Khendon. A circle of three meters separated the battered warrior from the crowd of demons. The Imperator took a hard look at the metal-plate covered creatures. Their sinews, like vines, leaked from chinks in each armor sheet. Muscle merged with metal as if the armor were somehow organic. A thick, rank smell—maybe of Frihtel blood, or it could have been simply their body odor—filled the confines of the black-blood drenched hallway.

“Come on,” mumbled Khendon, “attack!” He hissed like a serpent and snapped his saber at the nearest warrior like fangs. The Frihtel was sliced from shoulder to hip, the two parts slid off, exposing more dark flesh.

“What’re you waiting for!” The mass was panting heavily now and mild chirping echoed off the walls sanctified by the blood of combatants. “COME ON!”

The shuffling throng suddenly parted. A tall, sinew-webbed warrior marched through the formed opening. “This is it. A champion, how exciting! How trite! Fools.” The champion stood a looming two and a half meters tall. Its eyes were red spheres that smoldered with unseen fire. Muscles the size of small animals rippled through exposed areas in hull-thick armor the color of space.

Khendon’s mind had been shattered by blood loss; his face was haggard, his left arm limp and useless. The dark Jedi smiled wickedly, “Shall we dance?” He stifled laugher and suddenly felt his pulse quicken. This could be it. I could die here! And what am I doing? Trying not to laugh. Typical. Typical. This is why I lost my fami—no. Focus.

The Force, like sweet nectar, flowed through the veins of Khendon. He could feel its powers whisper in his ear in foreign tongues. Something, intuition or maybe a connection with the horrid beast, gave the Imperator the impression that the titan favored its left leg. Like a vice, Khendon’s mind began to tighten. Concentration cooled the lunacy threatening to break free of the rusty bonds build in the warrior’s mind. Control exerted itself.

The beast charged the lone Imperial.

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon relaxed, no need to waste energy. His eyes closed partially, his only working arm went slack. The shadows of the corridor seemed to elongate and stretch towards the dark Jedi. The Imperator’s breathing was rhythmic, controlled, in tune with the pulsing of the galaxy.

Silence filled the hallway. The air seemed to thicken, even as energy crackled to life. Pools of night-colored blood gently caught bounced light from recessed glow panels. Each step that the brute, colossal champion took pounded in the chambers of Khendon’s heart.

Sevon’s pulse quickened. The interval between footfalls shortened. Reality and hell snapped into suddenly crispness. Khendon’s face tightened into a snarl, his only working arm snapped up high, silver eyes pierced through the wall of sprinting flesh.

The colossus held a ball-and-chain firmly in its right hand. Rusted links the size of a human fist connected a perfect, head smashing mace to a rod of leather-bound metal. With a grunt the champion flicked the weapon towards his opponent.

Khendon bounded above the long strike of the chain weapon, trailing blood from opened wounds. A shattering blow from the powerful mace disrupted the wake of lost crimson. Sevon’s DNA splattered all over Frihtel armor.

The Imperator felt the Force guide his dance. He landed with legs bent to absorb the shock and leaned backwards. As his muscles strained and spine contorted the beast snapped his weapon around dexterously, the massive head displacing space that had formerly held Khendon.

Balance lost, the dark Jedi fell on his back. The taste of metal came to Khendon’s mouth. He could feel his muscles give in and surrender. The Imperial took a deep breath and forced himself up on both arms, his left slipping in blood pouring forth from gaping wounds and exposed bone.

The dark Jedi clenched his teeth, tears threatening at the pain of moving, and propelled himself forward. His departure was just in time; the massive, rattling weapon landed squarely where he had just been. Fragments of metal rose on an invisible wind and fell again, dust filling the air with grainy particles.

The lunge brought Khendon next to the massive champion. He snapped his saber to attention and brought it down in a bold slice to the creature’s midsection. The hulk of putrid, dark flesh jumped back a step and jerked his arm back.

A moment of panic gripped Khendon by the throat and caught the air he so desperately wanted. White spots formed and mocked the Imperial, threatening to consume his vision. The giant’s motion had summed the steely fist and smashed it into the Imperator’s back, sending his body flying to the floor like a rag doll.

A metallic sound caught Khendon’s delusional attention. His silver eyes strained to see the clattering cylinder, his saber. It rolled underneath the beast’s foot and became a collection of interesting looking fragments.

The monster stood over the Imperator, enormous mace slack and resting next to the man’s head. Khendon tried to smile at death, but found no muscle willing to even try. “So,” whispered the warrior, “it ends here?”

[Khendon Sevon]

Thompson woke with a start. Cold sweat rolled down his face and was absorbed by internal padding on his demonic helm. The marine wheezed as he gasped for air. He looked down to confirm his mortal plight… his legs were still missing. The pain had gone, though, maybe he wasn’t as bad as he thought?

A sound drew the dazed soldier’s attention. “So,” said a distinctly familiar voice weakly, “it ends here?“ Sergeant Thompson frowned and blinked hard. He struggled to concentrate on his neural commands. Finally, after nearly a second of work, he managed to adjust his artificial eyes.

The Imperator! And… and. What in all the galaxy is THAT! An enormous, disproportionate beast loomed over the weak looking Sevon. The NCO frowned behind his expressionless mask. This doesn’t look good.

The titanic monster was only a few feet away. The Imperator lay sprawled, silver eyes staring up at the beast with hatred and ill will. Thompson struggled to move his fingers, his arm floundered nearly helplessly as he grope at his thigh.

A black, huge hand lifted a chain linked mace high into the air and stood poised to crush the leader of the Federacy’s skull. The darkness suddenly threatened to pull Thompson back. He could feel his muscles grow wobbly and had to fight to push away the sensation of rest.

The NCO’s hand finally grasped its mark. In a blur of motion, and with a daunting headache, Thompson leveled the Sevon Rifle, Co. blaster and took careful aim with his implant. The weapon snapped backwards a few times and blue, crackling energy leapt forward. The Sergeant didn’t even notice. His arm fell limp.

“John,” spoke a heavenly voice that brought tears to Thompson’s eyes, “John, over here.” He could see his wife. Her green eyes greeted him warmly. Silky, olive flesh touched his armored face and removed the helm. Wine colored lips said hello.

Thompson smiled, “Janice,” he said weakly, “I love you.”

“I know, John. I know.” Giggles played in the silent hallway. Sergeant John Thompson smiled broadly, but with effort, and looked for his children. Janice looked so beautiful in a turquoise dress. He would have to bring her out for a night on the town when he got back to Delteon.

Thompson’s grin suddenly soured. Tears rolled down his cheek, but not from happiness. Pain shot up the officer’s spine and gnawed at his heart and lungs. An inferno burnt with the power of a thousand suns in his chest. The NCO’s mind suddenly exploded in pain. “Janice,” whispered partially opened lips, “Janice…”

The man from Delteon’s neural interface metabolized as the last life sign flat lined.

[Khendon Sevon]

The monster brought his mighty weapon into the air effortlessly. Muscles flexed and grew taught underneath layers of thick, pulsating veins. The black flesh of the creature shimmered with perspiration in the reflected glow panel light.

A thick puff of noxious fumes escaped the mask of the champion. Khendon grimaced; he was about to be killed by a creature with horrible hygiene. A rebellious sensation grew in the dark warrior as he lay on his deathbed. I won’t make this easy for you.

Pain sprinted from the Imperial’s arm to his head as he attempted to prop himself up. His body felt like it was swimming in thick, tangible fog. Khendon blinked furiously, trying to clear away the dots around his vision as nerves noted their resentment.

A fleck of rust fell from the raised mace and gently began to settle in the stillness of the tomb-like corridor. What Khendon could see of the walls made him sick. Black and scarlet spatters covered the steely surfaces. Men and aliens lay in various states of dissection.

The Imperator’s silver eyes shot up in condemnation to the champion. An eerie red glow greeted his own. Something washed over Khendon, a calm understanding of his lot. He had made a mistake, not just here, but in life. This creature, a reaper of yore with its mighty weapon and half-decayed look, was here to judge him.

Who has the right to judge me! What god? What man! What ALIEN! Khendon’s unsteady arm groped for something, anything to make one final strike with. The Force trickled through an ignored doorway but found no bright spark to accelerate.

A brilliant blue energy lashed out from the side of the hallway and slapped into the side of the champion’s head with a wet, electrical sound. Energy swarmed over the area as additional shots met the same target. Khendon cringed as he breathed in the scent of motor oil and burnt flesh.

The monster’s luming figure stood, muscles rippling with anger. Its eyes became infernos and the mighty head of the beast began to turn. Suddenly, as if in resignation, the armored mask slumped, shoulders and body following to the ground. A loud clap of metal on metal made the Imperator’s teeth hurt.

The champion had been slain.

[Khendon Sevon]

Heavy, full drops of wet rain poured from the thick, gray-brown clouds overhead. They fell like artillery shells and pounded the terrain into deep depressions. These puddles collected the wasted liquid like great wells. Small insects squirmed through the water, using its adhesive properties to their advantage. Bacteria floated in the vat and, through nuclear fission, divided until entire colonies were formed.

Night’s hand had clasped the candle of light and allowed only muted streaks of red and orange to ascent the otherwise bland sky. In the distance a burst of lightning reminded the thunder to growl its throaty tones. The rain continued its bombardment. A haze-like mist settled over the woodlands.

Tall pines and broad shouldered oaks broke up the silhouettes of two moving shapes. The lumbering figures trod through ankle-deep mud. Clumps of the foul waste clung to the black armor of the soldiers in great, moist lumps. Each long stride was embraced by a mouth of waterlogged clay. Every foot lifted was commented on by a sound like a wet plunger being removed from an overflowing refresher.

The two Federacy Mobile Infantrymen lumbered on. Their cyclopic eyes roved this way and that, adeptly processing the terrestrial information. Each shouldered a long rifle cradled in the crook of his arm like a sleeping python.

Two Imperial men continued their journey on an alien world.

[Khendon Sevon]

The color gray swept over the forest like the shadow of a predatory bird. A sensation, the gentle movement of heavy oxygen, visibly worked its way through the dull canopy of the dreary expanse. Air became chilled with the absence of the planet’s nearby flame.

Some dry twig stashed in an unseen animal’s hovel snapped. Sapped of its moisture the small stick was dead. Yet, its death did serve a purpose.

A red eye flew over the barely visible horizon and suddenly intensified. More noises of foliage rustling signaled an end to the marching. The two figures both fell as if their hearts had suddenly decided to petition for removal. Mouths of mud consumed the black armor and within moments the warriors were no more.

Beasts stepped from the lulling haze. Muscles flinched in idle anticipation. Dark, thick sinews wrapped around the horrible creatures, forming webs of putrid-looking veins. Long, beak-like faces surveyed the empty forest.

The smell of rotting plants acutely tinged the air with its dirty scent. Newly lit stars appeared momentarily as a hole became visible in the thick blanket overhead. Hell broke free of its bonds.

The two armored soldiers jumped from their seeming inactivity. Jet packs launched the duo clear of muddy hands. Orange and blue streams of energy licked metallic nozzles as the soldiers hovered several meters above the sticky surface of the planet.

The hunting pack could only look up in shock and awe as a river of rifle fire surged towards them. Red arrows broke through the Frihtel armor and sent plumes of black blood into the grayness of the mist. Bodies fell into the lake of brown suction still twitching from surprise as they sank into the bottomless mud.

A grenade made an artificial sun in the center of the remaining few. They were survivors no more.

[Khendon Sevon]

The two reapers stood in the center of the bodies, weapons probing for life. Charred flesh met metallic muzzle as the remnants of those that had been exposed to the high explosive were examined. The executioners continued their march northward.


*************

Dull, repetitive, perplexingly singular—that’s the only way to describe this planet. The Captain frowned behind his mask of carbon fiber and neutron atom bracing. “One more click,” came the soft voice of 1st Lieutenant Angrson.

“Roger that, Lieutenant. Initiate outward signal relay, establish sat. link.” The two continued walking as if nothing had transpired between them. As they chatted over their private line not even their heads moved in indication of the conversation. They were like ghosts walking over an ancient battlefield.

Indeed, the planet had seen many battles. Large craters interrupted the dense foliage in the blackness of the night. Rotting corpses, old bones, and chips of armor were scattered wherever their owners had fallen.

The planet was a shrine to war.

“I’ve got them on my scope, Captain. Looks like a full squad, weapons ready and—“ the Lieutenant was cut off as he and the other officer fell to their knees, rifles out, eyes searching.

An armored figure emerged from the nearby smoky fog.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Emperor’s Bones,” crackled the Captain’s external speaker.

“and Imperator’s Soul,” came the calm answer from the new arrival, “CIL channel?”

“C21.”

“Roger,” the voice rang clear and true through the private line, “Sergeant Gunterson, reporting, Sir. Captain, Lieutenant, heard anything about the FoF’s?”

“Nothing yet, Sergeant. The Lieutenant and I just established a sat. link but it seems like the relay from the fleet is dry. They must be in some tough fighting.”

“My pod got bounce around on entry, planet’s atmosphere seems to be frelled up.”

“Yeah, same happened to us. SG Unit Hell’s Bounty, you?”

“SG Dark Talon.”

“Well, why don’t you stay with us until we find your unit. Down there,” the Captain pointed one armored finger in the direction of the squad, “I think they’re a MI group. Looks like they didn’t have problems with sunbursting.”

“Let’s get acquainted, send ‘em a burst info beam with our coords before we move down.”

“That’s the plan, Sergeant. Lieutenant, do it.”

[Khendon Sevon]

The hill climbed only a few meters then suddenly fell into a sheer cliff. Below the cliff clashed wave and earth. Golden, amber sand was pummeled beneath the strong, white breakers of the crushing surf. The steady drumming of water lapping and beating the nearby rocks created an almost soothing sound.

Overhead a bright star dyed the finally exposed flesh of the sky resilient orange. The clouds that had dominated the heavenly territory hours before had slid away like waxy snake flesh to reveal the captivating morning light. The weather had calmed.

Lieutenant Angrson took a position at the top of the cliff and peered down as the squadron of mobile infantry collected below. If he had viewed them with his naked eye they would have looked akin to black grains in an endless sea of beach. The officer knelt and called a piece of software to action.

The CO of the squad below turned to look in the Lieutenant’s direction and waved an armored arm. Angrson smiled and contacted the Captain, “I’ve—“

A sound stopped the young man’s words instantly. It was like the grating of bones with metallic mallets. The Lieutenant didn’t have to look around to see the result of the noise.

Streaks of golden light, or maybe just blurred images of equally colored moving objects, sped from off shore. They ripped through the air like laser blasts but seemed to burn as if friction had taken a hand in their journey.

Angrson went wide-eyed with realization as the first wave of buzzing projectiles ripped through the CO’s flesh. Plumes of red mist erupted from the man’s armor and clung to the air like forlorn, drowning sailors clawing to keep out of the chilled waters of death.

The squadron collapsed like so many stalks of wheat. They piled on the crimson soaked beach as the hail of gold continued to mow into their contorted forms. The surf drank deeply and licked its scarlet lips.

[Khendon Sevon]

Instinctively the Lieutenant fell to his stomach. The air gushed out of his lungs as he tried a calming breath. What and where? His training instantly took hold.

Angrson moved to the edge of the cliff and brought his scope online. With rifle tight against his shoulder the officer scanned the general direction that the rays of death had emanated from. “Gotcha’,” the warrior whispered to himself.

A red demon leapt from the rifle’s barrel and traveled several hundred meters. Without a sound the energy clapped into the head of an armored Frihtel killing the beast before its body even began to fall. The limp form fell into the tumbling surf and disappeared beneath the blue-green waters.

The butcher had been manning a gun emplacement on a submersible vehicle. The stormguardsman calmly ordered his gear to analyze bounce-backs and figure out a targeting solution. Nearly instantly a red circle formed around an engine housing and within the next second several high-powered blasts erupted from Angrson’s muzzle.

A brilliant show of pyrotechnics satisfied the officer. The lethal craft became a star of intense blue and white as the fuel line and connected cells exploded. The SRC-U/C rifle surveyed the scene in a cold, methodical manner.

The Captain and Sergeant crawled next to the other officer. Angrson shook his helm; he knew the other two men were frowning heavily behind their own masks. From now on it was all business.

[Khendon Sevon]

An unintelligible murmur rose in the thick ranks of the enemy. Khendon could feel the hostility grow like infernos in each and every Frihtel warrior. “Fools, even in death the Federacy’s fangs strike!”

The Imperator smelled blood, sweat, and more importantly, tasted the yearning for battle within the swarm of black-bodied enemies. “More death will not resurrect your champion,” Khendon spat at the nearest armored figure and imagined that it was fire that left his mouth instead of harmless water and digestive enzymes.

Individuals moved towards the battered human with scythe-like weapons, “How appropriate! Reapers.” The former Vice-Diktat took in a deep breath and showed his pearly whites in the most sinister manner he could muster.

One of the taller Frihtel took it upon himself, herself? No. Itself to become the fallen warrior’s executioner. The beast marched up to the nearly dead leader and hefted its might blade. Words, tongues as foreign to Khendon as riches to the dregs of society, lashed out a final epitaph.

“IMPERATOR!” Came the echoing shout from all around. The murderer stayed its hand and peered around with glowing eyes. The horde of monsters seemed to become unsure and confused.

Hell’s mouth opened and swallowed every last one of them. Bolts of blue and red energy shot from all directions and sliced through the would-be executioner. A feral droid fell from the ceiling’s shadows and knocked over an army of Frihtel with a wave of its vibrosword-equipped tail.

Gatlings unleashed hails of energy that peppered the vine-covered, sinew-shrouded beasts. Gas clouds of black blood massed in response to the killing field’s unabashed slaughter. Vibrant streaks of crimson colored the walls as entire squads of marines lunged headfirst into the battle to save their leader.

“IMPERATOR!” The war chant rang out over the din of war and smacked Khendon in the side of the head. They’re doing this for me… The former Vice-Diktat looked at the open conflict, eyes wide, face contorted in sorrow.

The full arm of the Force lent itself to Khendon’s struggle. The dark jedi stood unshaken as tendrils of energy lifted him from his would-be grave. Fire rolled from the man’s motions as he summoned a fallen saber and wetted his silver blade in the flesh of a dark warrior. “For the Federacy!”

”FOR THE IMPERATOR!”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon watched as the last black devil was run through with a UIT stamped vibrosword. His own saber’s teeth were not bared; rather, his weapon remained clipped at his side. Blood ran down his wounded arm and trickled to the ground where it collected in a pool.

The leader of the Federacy blinked his eyes and stared at the murder story. He clenched his teeth as tears swelled in his eyes. This slaughter was his fault. Brave men had died because of his foolish actions. He had killed all of these innocent souls.

I’ve condemned so many soldiers and so many families. Sons and daughters will never see their fathers again. Wives will forget the gentle caress of their husbands. I am worse than the Frihtel.

This war could’ve been prevented. I didn’t have to conduct a preemptive strike! I didn’t! This wasn’t some impersonal battle where we lobbed bolts of energy and shred artificial structures. This was, and still is, a graphic slaughter!

“My Imperator,” a marine clapped a fist to his chest and removed his helm. The young man’s blue eyes were cold, like so many soldiers. He had just seen his friends torn into small red bits by hell’s beasts, had witnessed a rain of blood as his sword severed muscle and tore flesh. “Imperator?”

“Yes,” Khendon’s lost silver eyes read the soldier’s rank, “Lieutenant.” The leader’s voice was flat and detached.

“The bridge has been secured. All invaders have been killed.” The former Vice-Diktat looked at the Lieutenant, his eyes conveying sudden understanding. He was still the Imperator. He still had a job to do.

I can’t avoid taking life. I can’t avoid having my soldiers die. I’ll just have to make sure we go to war for the right reasons, and with the right people. As a leader, that’s the best I can do.

“Son, get your armor polished, grab some extra rounds and chow, and report to the main bay. We’re going to war.”

A sly smile came to the armored-man’s face, “Yessir!”

[Khendon Sevon]

The three-man squad marched along the coast, weapons perpetually scanning the horizon for more assault boats. They began a steady jog as they neared their first rendezvous point.

“Neither of you has used stims yet, have you?” The Captain inquired.

“No, Sir. Saving them incase this turns into a long stay.”

“Hotel Frihtel, I like the ring. Naw, Cap. I’m as clean as Angrson.”

Mountains of golden sand frustrated the group’s efforts. After several kilometers and no rests they finally met a Friend signal. “Looks like the FoF is working, switch on, boys.”

“ID accepted,” came a communication over the closed frequency. A green-armored stormguardsman stood from a collection of shrubs and nodded towards the squad. As he stepped out his armor adjusted to the surrounding colors. “Head down two hundred meters, you’ll meet Colonel Shrison and about twelve squads… he has a mission.”

“Any news?”

“Yeah. There’s lots of Frihtel on this planet, so watch your tail. The Colonel is going to send you on a suicide mission, I’m sure, but what’s new.”

“Thanks, Rekkie.”

“No prob, Lieutenant. Stay out of trouble, I don’t want to have to save your behind.”

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon limped onto the bridge. He hadn’t taken the time to tend his wounds or to change into a crisp uniform. In fact, the Imperator stood in tattered garb with gaping holes ripped in his flesh. His entire left arm was slick with fresh blood. Perspiration ran down his face and over his clenched jaw.

The only fresh parts of Khendon were his two silver, piercing eyes. He used these to scan the battered crew that manned the neural interfaces of the Scarlet Madness. The man’s own chipset accessed the working parts of the network and quickly assessed damage. Nearly four-fifths of the crew unaccounted for, half of the automations for the guns down, shields obliterated, engines at ten percent, hull integrity barely holding and there’s still one more of those Sith spawns out there… I love these odds.

“To all ships that have repelled boarders,” Khendon’s voice was solid and full of control, “This is Imperator Sevon. Our sensors indicate one remaining Frihtel heavy. We can only assume it doesn’t have any remaining warriors. I have a plan, but it will require all of our efforts.

“We’re going to find out what makes these aliens tick. We’re going to find a way to beat them definitively. We’re going to win this war.”

Replies were nearly instant. Out of the small fleet Khendon had taken with him nearly all of the ships were active. He had lost a few of his escort gunships and a dreadlord was disabled, but, overall, he had a good amount of guns ready to open fire. The problem was that only a small number of ships had completely killed off the boarders. The former Vice-Diktat had a solution.

[Khendon Sevon]

“So, explain our job to me again, Cap.” The thumping sound of a powerful repulsor was easily filtered by the Lieutenant’s gear, yet he found it hard to concentrate with so much adrenalin pulsing through his veins.

“Alright, we’re going to be dropped right on top of it and rope in. SG Dark Talon will follow. That’s a total of eight men for this op. So, we do our job, breach and bang, kill everything that moves. Hopefully we’ll find something vital and can blow it up or prep it for removal when the fleet contacts us.”

“Why hasn’t the fleet contacted us?” Asked one of the SG Hell’s Bounty sergeants.

“Because, as far as our StarGazer’s can tell, they’re engaged in some heavy action.”

“So, when we do get contact,” inquired Angrson, “we’ll be able to use strat. bombing?”

“Yeah, Lieutenant. Now, if you’ve all had enough questioning why don’t we all switch over to channel A5-B and get ready for insertion.” It wasn’t a request and the Captain didn’t pretend it was.

[Khendon Sevon]

The black bundle of static rope dropped to the durasteel surface of the building and settled. Angrson locked his internal harness’s outer carabiner and squeezed his belayer as he leaned out the side of the drop craft. “SG-HB 2 ready.” His was the final check in.

“Fall,” came the order from the Captain. Eight men in black armor pushed against the sides of a small transport and zipped down ropes specially designed for their weight. Each soldier landed silently and scanned the drop zone with his powerful rifle.

Red eyes dimmed strategically until they could blend in with the darkness of a pitch-black room. “Stealth mode,” commanded the Captain. “Scope the hatch.”

“Roger, Red moving in to examine.” Two men approached the hatch in the floor. One knelt and placed his hand over the reinforced steel structure. “Sounds negative, gravity pulses negative, heat negative, scent negative. Looks clear.”

“By the book, stack up. Blue, breach.” The group of eight troopers took up positions around the door-structure. One man placed a device on the crack running down the center of the hatch and stepped away while another stood on top of the metallic gateway with a weapon leveled at the soon to be open door.

A sound like the exhaling of a held breath was emitted from the placed device. Without warning and in the blink of an eye, it expanded and fully opened the portal.

The troopers entered the foreign building. The offensive had begun.

[Khendon Sevon]

A sergeant from Dark Talon lead the way through the winding passage. Every few feet the two squads stopped and waited, and listened. Only Angrson’s heartbeat resounded in the dark, moist passageway.

“This place looks semi-organic, doesn’t it, Cap?”

“Yeah, almost like a giant intestine, now shut up and keep your eyes peeled, Lieutenant!”

The lead soldier hooked his rifle onto his harness and drew his vibrosword. The weapon made a mild hum as it powered up. Its matte-black finish matched perfectly with the hellish décor.

Grunting sounds, a fork in the tunnel. The first sergeant brought his blade in a low to high slice and black blood shot from the left section. “Contact!” Came the crisp, calm voice of the NCO as he finished carving up the Frihtel.

“Frell! We’ve got multiple in-bound, picking them up on motion, at least twelve.”

“Break out a det. pod and chuck it down the tunnel, NOW!”

“Yessir!” A demolitions man quickly passed the device forward and it was lobbed deep down the throat of the Frihtel installation.

A small rumble, the first explosion, shook the gel-like walls of the black tunnel. The first eruption was quickly followed by a wave of heat as larger, more powerful, explosions jarred the entire facility. “Nothin’ left, but we just made enough noise to wake a sleeping padaray!”

“Alright, boys, expect some company. Gatlings to the front.”