A Beast Awakens: Thermonessa (Part I)

*Before Formation of the Empire*

The dreaded, insurmountable Central Galactic Alliance is nearing its extinguish of the mighty Olympus. Surrounded on all fronts, the Olympian High Leaders issued for a weapon to be built – a “super weapon” of sorts (as one may call it) – to be built for the protection of the home-world. With time not favoring the lone planet as it battles against an entire galaxy, the race to finishing the so-called “super weapon” has managed completion, only for now... can the “super weapon” be unleashed in combat as The Sword and Shield of the Galaxy.

War Clock: Three Years, Seven Months, Three Weeks, and Two Days into the Galactic War

Location: Olympian Galaxy / Solaris Cluster / Phlannix System: Fourth System Planet: Thermonessa – Southeastern Continent

Mission Brief: The Southeastern Continental Division, set far out in the faraway planet, Thermonessa, of the Phlannix System, is on the brink of starvation and defeat, and in peril need of resources and reinforcements to ensure its continuation in defending Therma’s Holding – the last foothold of the Southeastern Continent that holds valuable resources of great use and importance to the combined fleets of the Central Galactic Alliance – all the while holding off threats seeking to exterminate them while awaiting for a rumored “super weapon” to arrive for support.

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“Have you heard, Captain? There are reports flowing around that the Second Extrasolar Fleet has been destroyed. Destroyed!” Maklin said excitedly, seated cross-legged on the cold dirt, cave floor. He was a thinly boy, not yet fifteen years of age, when he decidedly snuck aboard a Olympian transport ship to serve alongside the Omega-Third Olympian Planetary Army and has remained since then. It would be a few more days until sunlight would shine upon the southeastern continent of Thermonesa: a rugged, mountainous continent filled with countless complex cave-systems and marshlands stretching out to the horizon beyond. For two years almost, the southeastern continent lay in darkness under the blankets of stars that shined in their glory and Thermonessa’s three beautiful, grey-colored moons with hints of blue clouded swirls as the only means to provide natural light for the continent shrouded in darkness. Such was the cycle for the southeastern continent to experience through every two years – along with the eastern, western, and the intercardinal continents – on Thermonessa: two years basked under clear, blue, sun-lit skies, and two years covered on thick, rainy-filled seasoned, night-lit skies. However, though, such conditions the planet experienced through made no matter to the Omega-Third Olympian Planetary Army whom was tasked with defending Thermonessa – a strategic-based planet situated in the Phlannix System that harbored raw mineral resources for the Central Galactic Alliances’ naval fleet armor.

“There is no such news, Maklin.” Ryder said straightforwardly. “Merely false hope attempting to be instilled into the men in hopes that it will keep their spirits alive. Need I remind you that the Second Extrasolar Fleet is the very same fleet that annihilated the Alpha-Second and the Alpha-Third Olympian Grand Fleets into nothing but wreckages floating in space?” He sighed softly, shaking his head as he looked upwards to the star-lit sky. “Alpha-Fourth, whomever served up there and however long they lasted, were no different. They are gone just as the previous two fleets.” Ryder was a man well into his mid-forties that stood average height and held a light-body frame with stubble beard, shoulder-long straight hair, and a sleep-deprived face that marked the wearisome state of condition not only for he, but for the rest of his troops. Having recently acquired command over the Southeastern Continental Division – a 30,000-manned unit from the Omega-Third Olympian Planetary Army’s 240,000-manned combined force that was equally divided into eight divisions for the eight continents – for approximately half a year as the rank of captain, it fell to him to ensure the defeat of the Central Galactic Alliance’s rapidly approaching Third Interplanetary Army. Only, it was close to three years ago when the seven other continents maintained continuous contact with one another; and after repelling many invasions from the Third Interplanetary Army and resources dwindling, silence was all to be heard from the other continents. Few months had passed since contact with the last known operating division, the Northwestern Continental Division, was made and it was only a matter of time when the men of the southeastern continent began to question when their time would be next.

Holding the responsibility of being captain over the Southeastern Continental Division fell upon many soldiers next-in-line of authority, it seemed, when each previous captain died within the following days of receiving the rank. It was a moment he had hoped to avoid would be given to him knowing that with a starving and weakened division could only do so much before the inevitable would come for them as it did for the other seven continental divisions. “But the news is true. The High Leaders have developed a powerful warship of sorts that defeated the Second Extrasolar Fleet to its entirety – on its own!” Maklin announced enthusiastically, looking down to his notebook as he inscribes words next to a sketched drawing of Thermonessa’s three moons shining down upon the marshlands of Therma’s Holding: the sole remaining foothold Ryder and his division had left upon the southeastern continent. “It is even said that the ship is autonomous of sorts. Can you believe that?!” Ryder had no words to say. He simply turned his attention towards the young boy who had a blanket snugged over his shoulders and wrapped around his upper body. The blanket was old and worn in appearance and stained black and brown in many areas. It was all the warmth that could be provided when standing or sitting near the cave’s entrance since a fire could not be lighted to avoid risk of being seen by enemies. The two years of darkness engulfing the southeastern continent brought about endless nights of freezing temperatures and cold, piercing winds that stung with intense pain when directly in the winds path, especially when winds entered the cave-system Ryder and his division took shelter in.

The cave’s entrance was also its only exit as it stood upon a grassy plateau that was overshadowed by towering snow-peaked mountainous chain, fields of marshlands below the cave’s entrance that extended as far as the eye could see, and man-made fortifications built around the cave’s entrance that contained automatic motion detector sentry guns. Just a few more days and we can finally be rid of this hellish squalor of a darkness that blinds us from seeing the enemy approach. Many of the men long for the warmth of their wives, and many more simply desire to see their families and hold them once more. He wanted the darkness to end, there was no doubt in his mind that he wanted such. But most importantly, he wanted the war – this… Galactic War – to end. The Eternal King surrounds us on all fronts, outnumbers us all by a million-to-one, and spares no enemy he deems traitorous or rebellious to be taken prisoner. Only through death by extinguishment does he see satisfaction in our demise. Like Maklin, he seated himself on the cave floor and stared out to the nightly sky filled with stars, wondering if any Olympian naval fleets were taking battle amidst the emptiness of space – hoping, however small a chance it may be, his home-world would succeed in defeating off the Eternal King and his dreaded, insurmountable Central Galactic Alliance.

“Are you well, Captain?” Maklin asked, the voice in his tone showing concern as he showed the same for everyone else in the division. Ryder did not seem to hear the young companion as he kept his gaze locked upon the night sky, then shifted it downwards onto the marshlands’ water to watch the reflections of the three glorious moons in their natural state. “Captain?” This time the captain heard the response and turned to look at Maklin. “Yes, Maklin? What is it?” The young boy placed his pencil inside his notebook and closed it, his every exhalation showing the cold, frosted steams of breath exuding out as he shivered intensely. “The Olympian warship. The warship of which reports have been flowing around that it defeated the Second Extrasolar Fleet, I believe them, Captain; and I believe this warship… will save us all from the galaxy’s wrath.” Ryder noticed the hopeful smile forming on Maklin’s face. He yearns for a hope that does not exist – will not exist. He dreams for a future that will not come – would not come. But most of all: he desires for a sense of belonging in this unforgiving galaxy – a galaxy we have no chance in winning against. “Tell me, Maklin: these reports you have been hearing, why do you place much hope in this ship that has not seeked out to rescue us, the other continental divisions – if alive – or the remaining Olympian forces spread out in the galaxy?” He kept his attention locked upon the young boy’s face, wanting to see if there was any hint of doubt to be expressed. He wished no harm or bad nature upon Maklin, but he simply wanted to point out to not raise such expectations or hope into something that may not be real, especially something managing to defeat an entire fleet – a formidable, powerful fleet – on its own.

Cold breezes began to blow inside the cave, eventually coming to make way deep into the tunnels of the unexpecting soldiers whom were resting with many fires lit inside to keep them warmed. The marsh grass could be heard rustling faintly from the winds and its waters streaming smoothly down into creeks nearby. “Yes, Captain. I do believe them, and I know the ship will be coming for us. I have dreamed of this day many a times and finally, it will happen.” Maklin continued smiling. “When I return home, I can not wait to tell my townspeople of the journeys I have been through. All this will have been worth it.” Ryder gave a brief smile after hearing Maklin’s words, admiring the fact that despite the hardships and conditions the Southeastern Continental Division has been through, the young boy still managed to maintain some hope through the perilous war-torn galaxy. “I envy the hope you have within you, Maklin. I would be lying if I said I did not, and certainly wished my men had the same outlook as you have.” He sighed and looked down, pulling out a food ration consisting of stale bread and plant seeds from his grey-colored faded trench coat as the bright moonlight shined on him. He carefully opened the package and inhaled the smell it released, nothing pleasant nor special of it other than the fact it was months old but provided something to eat. “Do you have anyone special back on Olympus, Maklin? Parents or siblings, perhaps?” Maklin shook his head. “My biological mother abandoned me when I was but a small child. I have no memory of her. Wherever she is, whoever she is, I only wish the best for her in her life. She had me at a relatively young age so perhaps the thought of raising and taking care of me frightened her. My father was among the first of many volunteers from my town to join arms against the Eternal King and his Central Galactic Alliance back when the war first broke out.” Maklin sighed as he looked down and placed a hand upon his notebook.

“He had my mother – my step mother – promise him to make sure I would not partake in this war should anything happen to him. When a year passed, during the Wakelin System Campaign, I received a letter that my father had been killed in combat. My mother mourned grieved greatly, as did I as well. Angered at the Central Galactic Alliance, angered at the Eternal King, and angered at… just everyone and everything, against my father’s wishes and my mother’s promise, I lied of my age and joined the Olympian forces to enter the war.” Ryder continued listening intently as he brought his legs in to sit cross-legged, noticing Maklin bringing a hand to his face to wipe a tear away as he sniffed. “When they discovered of my age, that is when I stowed away on the transport ship headed to this planet. Ever since being here and experiencing what goes as with the rest of the galaxy, I feel this is what my life was meant for: to serve and protect the Olympian people and my home. I do miss my home at times, but I have no desire to returning back to Olympus until the Central Galactic Alliance is defeated and the Eternal King is dethroned from his position.” Maklin’s smile returned once more as bright as ever. Ryder smiled at that also but not for long. He placed his hand into the food ration package and took out a single breadstick – stale and hard all the way – and placed it into his mouth to chew. By the might of all Olympus this is terrible. There is absolutely nothing worth of eating for this so claimed “breadstick” of a food ration. He sighed. I suppose it will simply have to do as it has done for the past two years. “I am sorry for your loss, Maklin. Each and every one of us have all lost something to this dismal war.” He said calmly, chewing the breadstick that felt like a rock in his mouth.

“Whether it be close friends or loved ones, this war has shattered us all into fighting a war that has no chance in winning. It was foolish of our people to decidedly rebel against the Central Galactic Alliance and declare war against an entire galaxy.” He shook his head. He continued chewing the breadstick but realizing it will be a sore process for his jaw, he resorted to leaving the breadstick within his mouth to allow his saliva to soften it and break it down for better consumption. “All I wish for in this war is to be over with. Many lives have been lost, and many more will continue to being lost so as long as the Olympian home-world continues to war against the Central Galactic Alliance.” He looked towards to the inside of the cave tunnel that led into the interior of the complex cave-system where all the remaining 8,000 soldiers sheltered inside. He had no confirmation whether the other seven continental divisions of Thermonessa were operational still, but he had the feeling they were decimated completely, wondering himself when the Southeastern Continental Division’s time would be next. He then turned to look at Maklin. “You seem tired, Maklin. If you would like, you may head back to your mat and rest. I will look after for the remainder of your watch.” Maklin’s eyes seemed to be grateful for the offer, however, he did not want to leave the captain to take over the watch. “It is most kind of you, Captain, to allow me my rest but I cannot allow you to take over my watch. You are the captain. It is the soldier’s job to watch over the holding.” Ryder simply smiled. “I am very much a soldier as you are, Maklin. I can handle it. Go on now; you may use this time for rest.” Maklin nodded and stood, keeping the blanket snugged about him on his shoulders as he held his notebook. “Thank you, Captain. I will send out for the next man assigned to watch on my return to my mat.” Maklin proceeded into the cave tunnel and disappeared from sight soon thereafter.

Ryder exhaled deeply once more, still allowing the saliva to dissolve the breadstick within his mouth as he stood and walked to the man-made fortification’s edge. It was total darkness around save for the natural moonlights that shined upon marshlands below. Small droplets of snow fell onto his shoulders that came from atop the snow-tipped mountains above, providing a sense of refreshment for him as he allowed it to continue falling onto him. More winds blew as the grass moved in a wave-like manner and the waters of the marshes had ripples appearing around. Only a few more days and we will finally be rid of this damned darkness that plagues us hour after hour after hour. He remarked as he stared off towards the horizon beyond that was all only pitch-black darkness into territory unsafe for venturing. It had been quite some time since the last attack committed upon the Southeastern Continental Division that left heavy losses on his forces, but his unit managed to prevail and drive back the enemy but only at the cost with depleted resources and numerous footholds lost. Therma’s Holding was the last remaining foothold still intact not only in the southeastern continent, but only the entire planet itself. At least to his knowledge it was. “If there really is a ship out there that can save us from this galaxy… help us. Please. We need you more than ever now.” He muttered softly as he looked down. “I feel a presence gathering. Not the Third Interplanetary Army nor the Central Galactic Alliance itself, no, but something far greater I can not describe.”
When the breadstick was finally soft enough to eat, he swallowed it whole and spat out the bitter cardboard aftertaste that remained behind as he shivered in the cold winds. As he remained standing, he heard footsteps coming from behind within the cave’s tunnel. “Captain Ryder, it is most pleasant to see you here. Although, I would be most content if you were to shelter yourself inside amongst the fires made within that warms a great deal a many.” Ryder recognized the voice and remained his state of position. “As the current captain of this division, Strandmin – or whatever is left of it – it is my responsibility to ensure the protection and well-being of this foothold. But your offer is most appreciated, however. I will remain here to accompany your watch alongside you.” Strandmin nodded and stopped at the motion detector sentry guns to check their functionality. He was a tall, gaunt man in his mid-twenties clad in clothing that once fitted finely on him but became loose due to his dangerously weight loss of food shortage. “There is word going around within the cave-system being spread by a certain boy of claims that a ship has defeated an entire extrasolar fleet by itself.” Strandmin said, finishing his check-up of the sentry guns. “And not just any extrasolar fleet, but the very famed Second Extrasolar Fleet itself. One must wonder how the High Leaders managed to develop such a ship amidst this war without the enemy knowing.” Ryder gave no response to Strandmin’s words as he looked on to the horizon beyond, or whatever he could manage to see. He breathed quietly, taking in the cold, fresh air that blew around while listening to the sounds of grass and waters moving forth and back. “The boy simply wishes to keep hope alive in the men, Strandmin. If not for him, I am fairly certain everyone here would likely go mad and kill off one another before the enemy could ever honor us with doing that themselves.” Ryder said jokingly but kept true to what he said regarding Maklin keeping hope alive. Strandmin, however, chuckled at the comment and stood beside the captain and leaned on beanbags, looking out the skies above.

“Perhaps, perhaps not. It makes no matter to me. Words will not bring the enemy to throw down their arms and kneel before us in surrender. Words will not feed our stomachs nor keep our beds warm with a woman laying at my side. Words are wind, Captain. It is the truth and the enemy knows it too. They will not stop and will never stop until every Olympian and our allies are gone from this galaxy.” Strandmin was right in the matter. “Words are wind, Captain. It is the truth and the enemy knows it too.” Ryder repeated the words in his thoughts, wanting to desperately rid of every enemy himself if he could but he knew he was in no such condition to accomplish such and neither were his division. “This war, for all I know, could potentially be lost, Strandmin. There is no doubt in my mind many of the men feel the same way as I do, but I have a responsibility to make certain that all my men – as many as I can save – make it back home to their loved ones. Abruptly announcing their end will soon be upon them will bring down the morale more. I can not allow them to think or feel such in that manner.” He sighed deeply, bringing a hand to his head and rubbing it in frustration. “All men must die, Captain. You know this, I know this. The inevitable always comes for us whether we welcome it or not. You and I… bleed just as any man does in the rest of the galaxy, and any man dies the same just as every man has in this galaxy’s past.” Ryder remained silent for a few moments as winds softly blew his hair, looking upwards to the skies above and wondering again if any Olympian naval fleet is currently battling a fleet of the Central Galactic Alliance. Strandmin stepped forward to place a hand upon the captain’s shoulder. “Captain.”

However, before Strandmin could speak his words, there was a loud rustling heard within the thick bushes of grass about thirty meters out as every sentry gun quickly turned towards the sound of origin and locked aim, ready to fire. The captain and Strandmin also looked towards the direction of the sound, attempting to identify what it was. “Who goes there?” Ryder called out, trying to use the light provided by Thermonessa’s three moons to locate the cause of noise. No response was made. “Alert the others. I do not wish for this foothold to be attacked defenselessly should a whole army decide to attack us.” Ryder ordered for Strandmin who nodded and turned to head inside the cave-system. When Strandmin was gone, the captain turned his attention back onto the grassy marshes as the sentry guns kept true to their locked aims. “I said who goes there?” Another rustle was heard and this time, one of the sentry guns fired upon the detected motion that resulted in a feminine voice to yell out. “Do not, please! I yield! I yield! Please, it is only I and a friend! We are in desperate need of shelter and medical treatment! Please!” Ryder, feeling something did not seem right, eventually decided to let the two individuals entrance inside. “Come forth! The guns will not fire upon you but be quick about it! it is dangerous enough to walk alone on this continent!” As he watched from above, he saw a female figure approaching; and in the female figure’s arms was an unconscious man – a very large-build man who seemed to weigh three times the weight of the woman – being held by the shoulder with ease as she approached. Ryder quickly went down to help, noting just how heavy the man was. This man is heavy, indeed. How, in the might of all Olympus, was this woman able to carry the man by the shoulder this close to the foothold without alerting the sentry guns? He wondered greatly, but it was a question that would have to wait as he and the woman managed to make it atop near the cave’s entrance and entered inside. Strandmin was seen approaching with men at his side when Ryder was helping to set down the man onto the cave floor as the woman collapsed onto the ground and leaned back against the wall, breathing heavily in exhaustion.

“Who are you?” Strandmin asked the woman as he pointed a gun at her, the rest of the other soldiers he brought doing the same. Ryder looked back at the woman now that his attention from the unconscious man was no longer needed and stood, staring at the woman and examining her from head to toe, still attempting to understand how such a lithe body could have managed to carry a man of large size. “I said… who are you?” Strandmin stepped closer while keeping the gun locked upon the woman’s direction, his finger inches away from the trigger as he awaited an answer. “My name is Lanya, and I am from the Dire’s Pass foothold beyond the marshlands that were taken from you and your division.” She said, coughing harshly as she attempted to regain her breath. “Dire’s Pass? That foothold was taken from us some months ago.” Ryder said, not turning his attention away from the strange woman who seemed very much different from any human woman in the galaxy. “Then… that would mean – “ Lanya coughed harshly once more as she slightly raised her arms to use her index fingers to point to herself, smiling. “Indeed, Captain Ryder. I am from the Third Interplanetary Army of the Central Galactic Alliance serving our most beloved, trusted, and noble leader to have ever existed in this galaxy: The Eternal King.”