Blackwing_Rise of a New Empire

by L. S. Mercer

  Jaffar nodded, standing back up.

  “The fleet is just out of orbit, they are ready to fly for you. My daughter was right to believe that you can bring us back to power.” He stated.

  Draxis stood from his chair once again and turned to look at Helen; She stood at the base of the steps.

  “Well, Admiral?” He asked.

  Helen’s eyes lit up at the sound of her new title.

  “Kharan is as good as yours my Lord.” She said, trying not to grin too much as she spoke.

  “Then it’s settled. Tonight begins the return of Ostillion!” Roared Draxis.

  Chapter 18

  Damon kicked open the door to Val’Drago’s private quarters. He could see that the king wasn’t in the room. The thing about Drago that Damon loved was his predictability. He knew that the Kind wouldn’t miss being on the front lines of the battlefield for anything. For a moment, Damon admired the room’s decor, with gold painted walls and lavishly potted plants; In a way, it reminded him of home.

  “You guys will be safe here.” Whispered Damon.

  Copper and Alloy nodded, looking scared for their lives.

  “It will be fine, I won’t let anything happen to you.” He said.

  The Eyres ran to the bed and crawled underneath it; Damon figured it was a good place for them to be, so he turned and shut the doors behind him. As he began to walk down the hall, he noted the fractures in the expensively decorated walls; The Alliance was doing a number on the palace for sure.

  It was hard for Damon to concentrate on the maze of hallways with all of the bombs and pulse missiles popping off throughout the district.

  Damon stopped in the middle of the hall as he saw two armored Kharan warriors block the stairwell; They pulled their rifles out and aimed directly at him.

  “Freeze!” Yelled one of them as they both took minor steps towards him.

  Damon put his hands up and smiled.

  “Boys, I’m just lost.” He said, copying their movements.

  They seemed to be getting nervous by how calm he was being.

  “Stop moving!” Screamed the Kharan.

  Damon didn’t stop but instead moved a little slower.

  “Fire!”

  The Kharan pulled their triggers in unison, but something that Damon hadn’t expected occurred. Everything seemed to move in slow motion; He could see the energy bullets firing in the air, coming directly for him. He broke in a sprint and jumped into the air and spun perfectly between the shots; He drew his energy sword. The weapon erupted into a bright green light and became a jagged blade at both points; The perfect size for cutting through both of his enemies at once.

  Time returned to normal as he landed back onto the ground and slid on his knees with the blade out in front of him. In one fell swoop, he sliced through the Kharan like butter; Their bodies falling on both sides of him as he came to a halt.

  “Wicked.” He whispered, staring down at his new prized possession.

  Knowing that he didn’t have much more time, Damon jumped back up from his knees and continued down the stairwell.

  * * *

  Busting through the main doors of the Royal Palace, Damon saw the carnage of the Alliance ships first hand. It was like they were just bombing the entire quarter with no regard for anyone on the planet. Although he wasn’t particularly on board with this method, he ignored his feelings and searched for a staging point where he might find the Commander. It wasn’t hard to do actually, he almost immediately saw the large mobile command center setting itself up next to the palace.

  Damon rushed over as quickly as he could to see Striker and Aela spouting battle plans to everyone. Aela smiled when she saw him.

  “Didn’t expect you to still be here.” She said.

  Damon nodded at her and turned to Striker.

  “Keep fire away from the palace.” He ordered.

  “Why?” Asked Striker.

  “The Eyres are hiding inside.” He replied.

  Striker nodded and went to toss him a rifle; Damon shook his head and gestured to the sword at his side.

  “We have the Kharan pushed into the Trade District. I’d like you to do a little side job for me.” Said Striker.

  Damon remained silent, waiting for his orders.

  “I’ll take that as a yes sir. Our scouts reported a work camp that holds some of our people.” He continued.

  “And you want me to break them out?” Asked Damon.

  Striker nodded.

  “Exactly, but not until we assault the quarter.” He said.

  “If you don’t wait for our diversion, your chances of survival are minuscule.” Said Aela, pointing at a map of Kharan.

  “Do I get another be careful goodbye?” Asked Damon, smiling at her.

  Striker gave them both a confused look, his brow shooting up his forehead.

  Aela shook her head at him.

  “Just get it done Damon.” She ordered.

  Damon smiled again, threw up his hands and backed away slowly.

  “Okay Princess, good as done.” He jested.

  Striker led him to a platoon that was to be under his command during the small prison break. He admired their rankings as well as their fiery determination. Damon had always found it comical how soldiers always seemed so brainwashed, even on the front of war; All they knew was the order to kill.

  “Attention!” Roared Striker.

  All of the soldiers snapped their legs together and fell into an endless salute; Their eyes fixed on the nothing ahead of them.

  “This is your squad leader. You will follow every order he gives with unwavering conviction, or you will all die. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir!” They all yelled in unison.

  “Good.” Said Striker, slapping his hand onto Damon’s arm. “They’re all yours.”

  Damon nodded at Striker and stepped towards the soldiers. He walked all around them, down the line and back. They all seemed like veterans, those who’ve seen war many times before. After scanning them, he stepped back to the front, pleased with what he saw.

  “At ease.” He said, waving his hand at them.

  The soldiers appeared relieved by that simple command. Damon assumed it was due to how non-elite he was with the orders; He didn’t care about all that drill sergeant junk. In fact, he hated it. When all of his Commanders in the past would order him around for no reason, it used to infuriate him; Almost to the point of desertion.

  Damon returned to the command center to talk to Aela and the Commander. Striker was already suiting up in his battle armor, while Aela still seemed to be reviewing the maps of Kharan.

  “So, what’s the plan exactly.” Asked Damon.

  Aela jumped in surprise; She hadn’t seen him walk up.

  “That’s supposed to be your job.” She muttered.

  “My job?” Asked Damon. “Hey, I’m just the grunt.”

  Striker chuckled and mumbled something under his breath as he clipped his shoulder pads into place.

  “At least you’ve finally come to terms with the chain of command.” Remarked Aela.

  Damon flicked her on the shoulder.

  “Ow!” She complained.

  “That’s a fantasy that I can’t give you sweety.” He said with a grin.

  Aela rolled her eyes and went back to analyzing the terrain of the maps.

  “So Commander?” Asked Damon.

  Striker picked up his pulse rifle and turned back to Damon with a smile.

  “Okay kid. All you have to do is infiltrate the tavern just three shops down from the work camps. Then you wait for the big boom before attacking. Got it?”

  Damon nodded and turned away to head back to his troops.

  “Before you go Damon.” Said Striker, making it sound like an order as always. “Put some armor on before you get yourself killed.”

  * * *

  “One. Two. Three!” Whispered Damon to his men.

  On three, two of the soldiers kicked in the back door to the tavern. Damon activ
ated his night vision helmet and followed inside behind the guns. As they entered, it became clear to Damon that the tavern had been evacuated by the Kharan prior to their arrival. This made the entire situation much easier than it would have been otherwise.

  The Kharan loved their taverns to death. There were at least twenty in each on a slow day, which would have been a bit difficult for a small strike team like themselves to take out.

  “Argh!” Screamed a voice from the side of them.

  A kharan jumped from the corner, breaking a stealth field as he leaped towards Damon. Time once again slowed, giving Damon the much-needed speed to counter the element of surprise. As the Kharan glared angrily and pointed a sword directly at his right shoulder, Damon slid toward him, knocking his legs out from under him. As he pulled out his own blade, time returned to normal speed and Damon stabbed downwards into the Kharan’s back. The Kharan let out a loud gasp as his last breath and went completely limp.

  “Wow.” Whispered one of Damon’s men.

  The one he was speaking to nodded back at him with a surprised look on his face.

  “Never seen anyone move like that Sir.” He said.

  Damon smiled.

  “Me either.” He replied. “Finish clearing the tavern and wait for the signal.”

  The men nodded and ran off, guns stretched outwards and ready to fire. Damon stood in the window of the tavern, staring out at the road to the work camps. He recalled the last time he was looking at them, that strange armored man being taken inside. Damon couldn’t help but wonder if they were going to come across him again and if he was going to be a friend or foe.

  * * *

  “Where are you taking this human?” Demanded the hangar guard.

  Gerrig stopped in his tracks, grabbing Sam’s shoulder tightly in a panic.

  “To my ship.” He replied.

  Sam gave the Kharan a terrified look, which made him smile with pleasure.

  “Sorry shaved one.” Said the guard. “The planet is under lockdown. Nobody leaves without clearance from Val’Drago himself.”

  Sam smiled.

  “That’s really unfortunate, ya know?” Replied Sam.

  The Kharan glared at him and placed his hand on the pistol at his side. It did no good; Sam slid a dagger from his sleeve and chucked it straight into the Kharan’s throat. He fell back into the wall, gasping for air and slid down to the floor.

  “You are way too good at that.” Muttered Gerrig.

  Sam chuckled and placed another dagger into his wrist sheath.

  “Let’s go.” He said.

  The two walked into the hangar and noticed that three more heavily armed guards were awaiting them at the ramp of the duster. They ducked behind a stack of storage crates and scanned the area. There were more than just the three guards in the hangar. In five different locations, snipers were waiting to fire if need be.

  “You think Damon’s in there?” Asked Sam.

  Gerrig looked around once more and shook his head.

  “But I don’t think he’s dead either, or they wouldn’t be waiting for him.”

  Sam nodded.

  “Well, we could go back and find him.” He suggested.

  Gerrig’s eyes went wide and he shook his head again.

  “I’m not risking getting blown up for a smuggler.” He argued.

  Sam shot him a look of disappointment.

  “He’s our friend.” Said Sam.

  “We barely know him!” Growled Gerrig.

  Sam’s face went a light shade of pink.

  “I like him.” He muttered. “And I don’t let the people I like die.”

  Gerrig stared at Sam for the longest time before nodding and pulling his pistol from its holster.

  “If you’re so determined to get us killed. Let’s go already.” He muttered.

  Sam ignored him and crept back to the hangar entrance to leave. As they got back out there, they both noticed that the body of the Kharan had already been cleaned up. This wasn’t a good sign for them since that meant that someone could be nearby, waiting for them to come into his or her sights. The two came to a slow pace and scanned everything as they snuck across the hall and to the exit. There was nobody in sight. Sam stopped to allow his eyes to wander around once more before exiting the space docks.

  Chapter 19

  “Sir.” Whispered Talon.

  Draxis was seated on his knees in his quarters of the Eradicator, in the center as always. He didn’t respond to Talon, though he was entirely conscious and had heard him speaking; He simply didn’t feel like responding.

  “Sir, we’re here.” Whispered Talon again.

  “Thank you, Doctor.” Replied Draxis in a quiet, sinister tone. The lights flickered as he spoke.

  Talon hurried out of the room, unsure of why the cyborg seemed so annoyed. In truth, Draxis was just nervous about the coming battle. Though he was quite formidable and nearly indestructible; He wasn’t untouchable. There was always the chance that he’d get killed by an explosion or he’d fail to see an incoming shot before it hit him. War always had way too much to focus on.

  Draxis stood up and walked to the hallway. He immediately came face to face with Helen, who must have been coming to get him as well.

  “We have interesting news. Not sure if it’s good or bad, to be honest.” She whispered.

  Draxis stared at her with an emotionless, cold look in his eyes.

  “The Alliance is already invading Kharan.” She said, wincing as if she was already imagining his rage unfolding before her.

  “Very interesting indeed.” He whispered, turning towards the bridge.

  “My father would like to go over some simulations before we attack.” Said Helen.

  “Simulations?” Asked Draxis in somewhat of a mocking tone.

  “Yes.” She replied. “Some of us just use the good old gun to survive. And we’d like to keep as many of the soldiers alive as we can.”

  “Good point.” He said. “My apologies.”

  Helen looked at him strangely, as if he were sick or something.

  “Don’t come to expect anything from me.” Said Draxis, already knowing that she was going to make some silly comment about him saying sorry.

  “I expect a lot of things from you Draxis.” She whispered with a wink. “All of them are good.”

  The door to the bridge opened and revealed Jaffar standing at the front, staring out upon the planets ahead. The pair hastily walked to the front as well to join him; he turned as they arrived next to him.

  “I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of running simulations without you.” He said.

  “I don’t mind at all.” Replied Draxis, grinning from ear to ear.

  “Good. The Alliance seems to have faked out the Kharan and taken the Royal District out from under them. They are now both staging on opposite sides of the Trade district. The best outcome would be to strike mid-battle and catch them all by surprise. If we let attrition take its course, both sides should be quite exhausted by the time our infantry join the fray.”

  Draxis nodded at Jaffar and returned his gaze to the three planets.

  “I want the work camps.” He said.

  “And why is that?” Asked Jaffar, his eyes bright with intrigue.

  “Unfinished business.” Replied Draxis.

  Helen giggled to herself, earning an odd look from both of them.

  “What?” She asked.

  “We can either drop you into the work camps alone or fly a small transport with some troops. It’s up to you, but we need the majority of our infantry in the center.” Said Jaffar, ignoring his daughter’s amusement.

  “A few troops will do.” Replied Draxis, a light smile spreading across his face.

  Elias, who’d been standing in the corner out of sight, stepped over to join the conversation.

  “Your little robot here ran the best simulations that I have ever seen.” Complimented Jaffar.

  “He is quite smart.” Replied Draxis, giving Elias a
quiet go-ahead to speak.

  “Thank you, sir.” Said Elias. “With the current plan, the Ostillion Empire have an eighty percent chance of succeeding. Which includes the use of my master’s powers of course.”

  “Not bad odds for a war.” Chimed in Jaffar.

  Elias bowed his head, proud of all the positive feedback.

  Draxis opened up the communicator channels to all of the Ghan ships in the fleet and waited for his image to appear across every one of them before speaking.

  “With the forces of the Ghan and the Ostillion Empire combined, the Kharan will finally fall on this day. Their reign of hate and terror will finally be at an end! Our plan has now been transmitted to each and every one of your squad commanders. Follow their lead, and you will more than likely live to see the outcome of this historical moment. To your battle stations people! The war for mankind begins now!”

  Draxis grinned with delight as hundreds of ships activated their thrusters; The image of the future Ostillion capital flashing into his mind. Kharan would soon be his. First Kharan, and then the rest of the galaxy. All would be his in the end.

  Chapter 20

  The signal explosion erupted in a massive soundwave throughout the entire district. Damon and his men rushed out of the tavern the moment they’d heard it; he drew his sword while leading the men directly to the gates of the work camps. The Kharan were already prepared to defend the camps; wielding heavy rapid-fire pulse lasers and mean scowls.

  The squad was able to take out one of the lasers before they’d realized what was happening, but were forced to fall back and duck behind a building as soon as the other began to fire.

  “Sir? What do we do?” Asked one of Damon’s men.

  Damon peeked around the corner to scan the area, but the laser was already waiting for him to do that; it fired immediately as his head came into view. He pulled his head back just in time to dodge the shots; shrapnel flew everywhere, covering his body armor in dirt and wood shavings.

  “Don’t do that.” Replied Damon.

  The soldier smiled.

  “I think we’re going to need a diversion.” He said.

  Damon nodded and rubbed his free hand against his chin.