Chapter 1
On a small, brown, cratered planet orbiting the central star of Orion’s Belt, there stood a gleaming silver structure, the only place of life on its
cold, airless surface. It had been built into the side of a tall cliff about one thousand feet tall, with two spires on top and a landing bay curled
over the top edge of the plateau. A small gray spacecraft slowly descended from the sky. It had no wings on its flat triangular body. It hovered
straight down from space, using space distortion propulsion rather than rockets. The ship slowed as it neared the ground. About two feet from the
ground, it stopped descending and began to move forward. A door in the silver complex opened and let out enormous amounts of pressure. The craft
entered the building as the door slammed shut behind it. Inside the building, the craft had to wait for the second airlock to open. The door opened
and the craft glided in, and this door did the same as the last. The craft halted inside the main hangar. Around it were spaceships of all sizes and
types, battlecruisers, science vessels, carriers, scouts, shuttles, single pilot combat ships, bombers, and others. A door on the side of the vessel
slid open, and a staircase slid out.
A male Reptilian dressed in a black military uniform stepped out of the ship and walked towards a door on the end of the hangar. His scarred face wore
a stern expression. He was about seven feet tall, had an almost rectangular snout, dark gray scales, and blood-red spikes on his back and tail. The
sound of his stomping echoed off the walls and pillars around him. He approached the door and stood in front of it.
“General Gyretvy Xharl’jonq,” said the man in a voice that could be compared to gargling.
“Voice recognition: accepted,” replied the computer in a robotic voice.
A light above the door shone green, and it hissed open. Xharl’jonq walked in as the thick door shut tightly behind him. The floor dropped and landed
at another door. The door opened, and he was on a small platform with rails on the sides inside a very large spherical room. Everywhere, Reptilians
and Greys were speeding around on small circular platforms. Xharl’jonq stepped into a circle on the ground, and instantly a control panel shot up.
He pressed a few buttons and the circle dropped down and began hovering to its destination. He sped past others without the slightest flinch. His
platform entered a tunnel on the side of the sphere and began descending again. At the end of the tunnel was another platform. He stepped onto this
platform and stepped through a door at the end. Beyond the door was a large semicircular room with two levels. On the rim of the room were Grey
operators sat at consoles. They had gray skin, large expressionless faces with big eyes and a small mouth, and were all identical and about six feet
tall. In the center of the room was a large empty chair on the top of a dais. Surrounding the seat of honor were four large Reptilian High Guards
armed with heavy stun lances, plus two at the door. On the far end of the room was a flat wall with a giant screen, currently showing a star map with
informational tickers on the top and bottom.
As Xharl’jonq walked towards his chair, everyone in the room went silent, stood up, and saluted him. He stepped onto the platform and sat down as
everyone else did. He pressed a button on the armrest of the char and the screen flickered to the image of an elderly reptilian female. She had purple
scales and black spikes.
“Xharl’jonq,” she asked, “what is it you would like to say?”
“My Empress Vasdio’zlon,” he replied, “I have a bit of news for you.”
“What is it?” she said in a concerned voice.
“The United States of the Galaxy is yet to repay us for the technology he have given them, but are going off adding worlds to their union. Surely a
system in the cluster would have the resources we seek.”
“As you and I know,” she insisted, “immortalium is hard to come by in the Western Arm. Are you trying to say that the scouts haven’t found any
planet where it occurs?”
“No, my lady. But,” he continued, “Grey science vessels have reported veins of the metal in neither the Terran nor the Alpha Centauri systems.
The Republic officials deny the existence of it, and won’t hand over control to us. That is the reason for this meeting. I am requesting permission
to invade the United States systems.”
“Have you gone mad, Gyretvy?” the surprised Empress questioned, “The Terrans, Titanians, Marsoids, and Shades are neither friend nor foe, but
neutral. My empire will not risk its scales and skin for your campaign!”
“But,” he added, “If the United States are left unchecked, nothing will stop them from subjugating your empire.”
“Hmm…” Vasdio’zlon pondered, “You have a point. Okay, Xharl’jonq, I will give you permission to attack.”
“Thank you, your highness,” he said. He turned and pointed to an operator, “End transmission.”
The screen changed back to its original state as Xharl’jonq got up to speak.
“Assemble the fleet,” he ordered, “Have the first wave ready to attack by dawn! Get the orbital ion cannon online for a ‘warning
shot.’”
The operators hurriedly manipulated their computers as Xharl’jonq began to laugh.
“Ha…ha ha…ha ha ha ha…”
Chapter 2
The busy and chaotic thoroughfares of Ryagwyn, capital of the moon of Titan, hovering vehicles sped around everywhere due to streets becoming
obsolete, aside from their usefulness to show where buildings are. The faint sunlight shone in through the thick orange clouds, reflecting off the
tall stone, glass, and green copper buildings. On the north side of Fewtv’Glorn Boulevard, workers of different races were building a new museum.
They were Terran, Marsoid, Shade, and mostly Titanian, due to the fact that this is their home world.
The Terrans, also known as humans, wore construction workers’ uniforms and hard hats. The Marsoids had bright red skin, tall cylindrical heads with
large foreheads, no nose or ears, and long gray oval eyes with dual pupils. They had thin necks that connected to their almost as thin bodies. They
had two thin arms that each had a hand with two fingers and a thumb. Their legs were also thin and ended with cone shaped feet. They wore long robes
from their small shoulders to near the ground. The Shades are spectral beings that can take any shape, but to blend in, they usually take a humanoid
shape. They are like a dark transparent mist that can pass through matter. They are sexless beings of pure thought and energy from the Alpha Centauri
systems. They have powerful psionic abilities, such as psychokinesis. The Titanians had eight legs on the sides of their spider-like lower body, and a
torso with four arms at the front end of the body. They had orange scales all over their bodies. Their heads have one compound eye in the center on
the forehead, no nose, and a small mouth. They wore shirts that hung down in the back to cover their lower body.
Above the boulevard was a young Terran woman on a black hoverbike heading east. She had tan skin, long black hair, and gray eyes, and a fair face. She
was wearing baggy green cargo pants, black boots, and a black tank top under a long gray trench coat. Her coat and hair blew back as she sped through
the city.
“C’mon!” she yelled as she rode past a slow moving cargo ship, “Outta my way!”
She descended and got under the traffic. She dropped to an altitude of ten feet, and the pedestrians below her got frightened and began jumping away,
fearful that she might drop more, except the Shades. A few young Shades even floated in front of her as a joke, trying to see if she would stop. The
woman saw the Shade in front of her, and in panic slammed on the brake, but too late, because she passed through the Shade’s ethereal form.
“Retards!” she yelled back at them as she flipped them off, “You’re making me late!” The Shades just laughed at her.
She turned north on Gferz’lik Avenue, and rose two thousand feet into the air, and entered a parking area on top of a building on the west side of
the street. She parked her bike in an empty spot, took out the key, and activated the security mechanism. She pushed up her left sleeve and looked at
her watch.
“9:05?!” she exclaimed, “I’m late!”
She sprinted down the row of vehicles to an elevator. She took a keycard out her pocket and swiped it in the reader next to the elevator. When the
door opened she rushed in and spoke the floor she would like to go to, “sixty-seven.” The elevator dropped quickly and reopened in less than five
seconds. The door opened and she ran down an aisle of gray cubicles, each with an employee busily working at a computer. She turned left into another
aisle and was greeted by a green Shade from a cubicle on her right.
“Hey, Melissa,” it said.
“Not now, Gravtil,” she replied, “I’m late!”
She turned right into a cubicle near the center of the aisle and ran into a bulky Titanian inside there.
“You’re late, Miss Echo,“ the man said.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Mefobtim,” Melissa replied.
“Tell me, Melissa,” he asked, “how many days have you been late in the past twenty days?”
“Nineteen.”
“We certainly can’t be having that, can we? When you’re late it decreases company productivity. You’re fired.”
“Fired?” she said, shocked, “Are you serious?”
“Yes, Melissa. I want you get a box and pack up your things. I want you out of the building by nine thirty. Give me your keycard.”
With that, the Titanian reached for the keycard, crushed it in his palm, and marched out and down the aisle. Melissa collapsed into her chair, very
upset and sat there for a few minutes, unmoving. After a while, a few people gathered around the entrance to her cubicle.
“We heard the bad news, Melissa,” said a young Terran man.
“We decided to take the rest of the day off,” said Gravtil.
“C’mon,” said a Marsoid female, “We’ll go to the café and celebrate. After all, you said you were going to quit anyways.”
“I’ll even pay for you,” said a male Titanian.
“No thanks, Monox,” Melissa replied, “I’m fine.”
“Whatever you say,” Monox said, “We’ll meet you at Rohyban’s at ten.”
Melissa’s friends walked off and Melissa reached under her desk for a crate. She began shoving her things into it, photos, coffee mugs, and other
various knick-knacks. After that she went back up to the parking lot and strapped the crate to the back of her bike. She mounted the bike, left the
garage, and flew back home. About twenty minutes later, she arrived at her apartment on Pfilqet Street and parked in a similar garage. She walked over
to the elevator with the box in her hands, and went down to her floor. She exited the elevator and walked down the hallway to her apartment.
She unlocked the door to the apartment with a keycard, and stepped in. She left the box on a table next to the door and walked back to the elevator.
She took the elevator to ground floor and left the building. She walked down the crowded street for a few blocks until she reached Rohyban’s
Café.
Her friends were already there, and sitting at a table near the window. Everyone was there except the Terran and the Marsoid. She walked in and
greeted them.
“Where are Arthur and Voccac?” she asked.
“Arthur’s in the bathroom,” Monox replied, “and Voccac is getting the food. We ordered you a salad.”
“Okay thanks, but I told you not to pay for my –“
“Attention citizens of Titan: you are in danger,” said an announcer over every speaker in the city, “Get to the nearest subway as quickly as
possible. The Reptilian Empire has fired an ion beam at the military base on Miranda. The Reptilian Armada is en route to Titan and currently
approaching the Oort Cloud. The congress has instated a draft…”
“A draft!? There hasn’t been a draft since the Nordic Wars one hundred years ago! I don’t want to be drafted!” Gravtil said as it began to
whimper.
“Monox! Get Arthur!” Voccac yelled as she dropped the tray of food while she ran towards them.
Monox entered the bathroom and dragged Arthur out as he was trying to pull his pants up right. The café was in chaos now, people knocking over things
trying to get to the exit.
“Follow me!” Monox yelled.
Monox ran towards the back of the café, towards the employee entrance because it was less crowded. The rest of the group followed. Monox knocked down
the door and ran out into the dirty alley behind. They left the alley and got to the shelter entrance on the street nearby. They entered the ancient
subway station. They walked down the stairs to the main station.
“Into the tunnels! Anyone a soldier sees fit to fight must report to base! You four,” a Marsoid soldier said, pointing to Melissa and the others,
“all you except the Marsoid, go to the armory! Its through that door!”
Melissa, Monox, Arthur, and Gravtil entered the armory and saw a blue Shade fitting equipment for soldiers on the drafted.
“Here,” it said as it levitated clothes for them, “Throw this stuff on!”
The four put the uniforms on and waited for further instruction.
“Shade! What is your name?” it asked.
“Gravtil.”
“Gravtil, report to the Five Hundred and Third Scouting Battalion at the Jalk’Xorn Street Station.”
“Affirmative,” Gravtil said as it floated off to its duty.
“Titanian, tell me your name and how good of a pilot you are.”
“I am Monox, and simply put for the second question: when I once worked for a cargo company I ran a ship from Mars to Ganymede in less than an
hour.”
“Good, I want you to report to the Seven Hundred and First Air Combat Battalion at the Qwiz’Lon Starport.”
Monox ran off and the Shade turned towards the Terrans.
“Terrans, your names, please.”
“Melissa Echo.”
“Arthur Evans.”
“Melissa, Arthur, I want you to go out that door and ask for Lieutenant Wold’Zhon. Tell her Juirtlon sent you.”
Melissa and Arthur ran out the door and asked a soldier where the Lieutenant was, and they said that she was near the tunnel. They quickly found the
Lieutenant, a large Titanian.
“Lieutenant Wold’Zhon, Juirtlon sent us,” Melissa explained.
“Juirtlon? Okay,” she instructed, “there is a transport waiting for soldiers above ground on the street. You are being sent to the starport on
Sedna. I feel sorry for you.”
They pair ran up the stairs, but Arthur tripped and fell.
“Arthur! Are you all right?” Melissa inquired.
“Ah,” Arthur groaned, “I think I broke my ankle! Go ahead, the other soldiers will get me back to the tunnel!”
Melissa continued on and found a long rectangular ship waiting on the ground outside. Soldiers were running in through the large open door in the back
as a Terran pilot barked orders.
“Move, move, move!” he yelled, “We need to get to Sedna as soon as possible!”
Melissa ran inside the transport and took the last seat. The room she was in was the only room in the ship other than the cockpit. There was a row of
ten seats on each side of the room, a door to the cockpit at the front, and a window next to each seat. The pilot entered and pressed a button near
the rear door, which slammed airtight. The pilot ran to the cockpit and took the controls, lifting the transport off the ground.
“Look’s like we’re the first ones off,” said a Marsoid across the aisle from Melissa, “The rest of the ships are pretty much empty.”
The ship rose to great heights and began to break through the atmosphere. The ride was pretty smooth because no rockets were involved. The ship turned
towards the asteroid belt and prepared to jump into warp speed.
“Look!” exclaimed a Terran man as he pointed out the window.
In the distance, they could see a bright flash of light coming towards them at great speed. The green shaft of light plowed through space.
“It’s headed for Titan!” yelled a Titanian.
The beam seemed to gain speed, and instantly, it rammed into Ryagwyn. There was a brighter flash, as if time had stopped. The great city had been
razed in a millisecond. Any escaping ships were vaporized by the blast.
Chapter 3
“Mr. President!”
“What is it, Viblok?”
“The Reptilians have destroyed the central Miranda base and Ryagwyn!”
“What!? How?”
“The ion cannon, sir. They fired it just as the escape ships were leaving.”
“Did any ships make it at all?”
“One from Titan did, sir.”
“Where was it headed?”
“Sedna.”
“Call a press conference. We’re going live in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, sir.”
* * * *
“Greetings, my fellow beings. At three minutes past ten o’clock this morning, the Reptilian Empire fired an ion beam at the military base on
Miranda. There were no survivors, they had no warning, five thousand died. Then, twenty minutes later, there was a beam launched on Ryagwyn. The city
had warning, but only one ship of twenty-one people escaped alive. Congress has declared war on the Orion Constellation, and has issued a draft. All
negotiations have been declined, and all ambassadors from the Republic have been killed. The Reptilian Armada passed through the Oort Cloud during its
slow steady war march. Four thousand years ago, the president of the United States of America, ancestor of our great Republic, spoke of a day “that
will live in infamy.” The unprovoked Empire of Japan bombed Pearl Harbor, Hawaii, launching the United States into World War II. Almost a century
later, the unprovoked Soviet Russia launched a nuclear strike against United States cities, beginning World War III. The United States survives to
this day. Since Iraq, we have never lost a war. This one will be no different.”