"Percy? Percyyyyy... Where are you, buddy...?" Lucien walked around the courtyard, calling out to his son with a smile on his face. "Your mother needs to talk with you!"
"Eep!" With a small squeak, a young boy of maybe seven years old tumbled out of the sole tree in the courtyard. "Father! You startled me..." He stood and dusted himself off, wearing a petulant pout as he did.
Behind him, a much taller woman dropped down, much more gracefully than the boy. Her flowing, blue-green hair was tied back in a bun, which happened to have a few leaves in it, and she was wearing the dark green coat, pants, and hat of military personnel... If a little lopsided. "Careful, Perce!" She laughed loudly, "You know your parents would kill me if ya went and got hurt under my watch! How'm I supposed to protect you like this, huh?"
"Anima, please." Lucien laughed, too, but much lighter, the practiced laugh of a ruler. "I did say to watch over the boy... But, you know, you could do to be a bit more careful, no?"
The woman, Anima, had the grace to look a bit embarrassed. Still, that grin never faltered. Not once.
"...Now, Percy." Lucien turned to his son, "You know you're not supposed to be climbing. Honestly... You're such a troublemaker, bud, you-" He cut himself off, seeing Percy's downcast expression. Lucien sighed, "...Alright. I suppose I can forget this... But you'd better come talk to your mother now. Understood?"
Instantly, Percy's entire demeanor shifts. He smiles, looks up at Anima- who smiles back- and then back at his father. "Yes! Of course! Thank you, father! It won't happen again!"
It was a lie. Everyone knew it. But at that time, no one cared. For that tiny moment in time, not one of the three thought of the future. One looked up to the stars, and the oh so tall people around him-
And two looked down, with a smile. To the one who saw them from the same view as the very stars.
____________________________________
"Mission report, Lieutenant Colonel!" The harsh voice of Grand Admiral Brooche snapped Percival from his thoughts. He stood in a dimly lit room, at a large holotable surrounded by multiple high-ranking officers. Apparently, from the way some had disapproving looks and others were trying not to laugh, Brooche had been calling him for a while.
"Lay off the boy, Grand Admiral. I'm sure he's tired from the ordeal at the Matatrie Asteroids. After all, I hear it was a decisive win..." The interjection by Captain Ryn Calder was accompanied by an empathetic glance.
"If I may, Grand Admiral, I concur." The next man to speak was the tall, broad-shouldered, grizzled man who was Admiral Marsch von Ardfelt, his gruff voice a rarity to hear doing anything but giving orders in battle. His one working eye did not waver from Brooche.
"Sorry, sorry!" Percy finally regained his bearings enough to focus, clearing his throat, "...Mission report. Right." He picked up a datapad and, with a few taps, brought up the full report. "In summary, Coalition forces were made up of the Starchaser- a modified Constantine-Class destroyer converted into an impromptu battle carrier- two dozen interceptors, and a pair of Ravyn-Class gunboats. Confederate forces were around fifty or so fighters, and three Reaver-Class cruisers." He took a breath, "...Once spotted, we had no choice but to engage. I positioned the Starchaser behind an asteroid thirty mytes to the port of the Confederate force, ordering my forces to turn off all sources of power, so the Confederates would not find us. They locked onto the shipment of minerals we were sent to obtain..."
It was easy to see where it was going from there. For some, at least. Calder nodded, looking amused, while a boy of around nineteen flashed a grin.
Percival continued, "...A few minutes went by. A single Ravyn gunboat had its wires damaged by Matatrie swarms chewing out its wires... But other than that, there were no more losses on the Coalition's side. Unfortunately, one cruiser managed to escape..."
"That's enough, kid. You did good." Calder slapped the boy on the back playfully, who let out a slight oomph. "Well, Grand Admiral? Is that a good enough recap for you, or do we have to put off our next debriefing even more?"
"...Yes, yes. Good job, Lieutenant Colonel Percival... Your contribution to the war effort is appreciated." Brooche let out a sigh, sounding resigned. Her feline ears twitched in irritation as she decided to just move on. "As I was saying. We received a call from a colony on the rocky world of Phuna AUN, a planet in the Phuna system. They have received an ultimatum from the Confederacy. However, they are allied with us."
Suddenly, the holotable in the middle of the room sprang to life, projecting the image of a giant walled city up against the walls of a cliff. Brooche continued, "This is Valenspire, the capital of Phuna AUN. It is one of the largest cities in that region, and an invaluable location of control, not only for the Phuna system, but for the entire region. Therefore, we can rule out the idea of bombardments."
The hologram zoomed in further, highlighting a series of anti-aircraft cannons along the gorge leading up to the city of Valenspire. "There are numerous AA guns, along with this gorge being the only access to the city. However, those AA guns cannot defend on the ground. Meaning, a ground force would have to land up to five mytes away, giving us a definitive forewarning to any invasion. Again, I cannot stress enough how important holding this city is to the war effort."
The hologram flickered to another image- a large, heavy artillery cannon that, even by looking at it, could clear mountains with only a few volleys. Brooche looked to another man, now, to finish- General Garrick Thorne. He nodded respectfully and continued where the Grand Admiral had left off. "Right. Valenspire is very well defended from air strikes, bombing runs, and the like... However. We've received word that the Confederacy is sending one of their best generals... General Threx Malcor." Thorne spoke the name with barely disguised disdain. "His strategy hinges on heavy armor. So. We're going to be dropping these babies off at Valenspire to help 'em out a bit... Siegehammers. The heaviest artillery you can transport."
Brooche nodded in thanks, flicking off the holotable. "Thank you, General. Now, for the assignments... As we all know, we cannot hope to stop a full-on siege from the Confederacy in space at the moment without committing far, far too many of our people. So, assignments will be primarily ground-focused."
She starts listing names quickly, "General Thorne, General Solas, you will oversee the fortifications on the surface. Admiral Jalen, I'm leaving it to you to oversee the transport and air support."
Finally, the lights of the room brightened, and everyone went rigid with a salute. Grand Admiral Brooche took one more glance at Calder, then left the room. Instantly, everyone relaxes- A young woman lets out a loud sigh, a man who Percy can only assume to be General Solas slumps in his chair, a young boy with his hat tilted over his face falls over, and the rest disperse.
Percival is left confused. He... Didn't get an assignment. This was an important mission, no? The most important, Brooche had said. He was the best choice for the job. Why-?
Quickly, he starts to follow the Grand Admiral, only to be stopped by a hand on his shoulder.
"Boy." It was that same rumbling, gruff voice from before, the voice belonging to the broad shoulders of Admiral Ardfelt. "You want an assignment? ...I have someone I'd like you to meet. Come." There was no room for protest. Apparently, the man was as strong as he looked...
"This is Jalen Vorren." Ardfelt had steered Percival towards the young man who had fallen out of his chair earlier. Remembering this, Percy looked up to Ardfelt. This is the man who gets transport duty? The question was written all over his face. The older man only nodded in response. "I am the one who mentored him. ...Jalen. Wake up, boy."
"Ah-" The young man, Jalen Vorren, woke with a start. He straightened his hat and flashed a smile, "Hey there, gramps. What's up? ...Tch. Hey, that's that Percy kid." In response, the older man nodded. Jalen and Ardfelt seemed to have an entire conversation with a glance, ending with Jalen sighing. "...Alright. Pack your stuff. You're coming along, I guess."
Percival looked back at Ardfelt as Jalen led him away. He wanted to know why- why the old man had helped him... But he's smart enough to know when to stay quiet.
_________________________________
"YA HEAR THAT?! IT'S THE SOUND OF FREEDOM, BABY!!!"
"No, it's- ugh..."
Percy didn't really care enough to argue with Sari right now. Especially with the chopping sound of the rudimentary aircraft's rotary engine splitting his eardrums. The black haired woman, though, seemed to be enjoying herself plenty... He would never have agreed to use this ship, not something so noisy and old. But alas, the locals' airships were the only things able to get through Valenspire's defensive grid.
"HAHA! Ah, I haven't been in one o' these babies since... Eh, actually, I've never been in one..." She paused as the thought washed over her, "...Well, whatever! Point is, it's fun as hell!" Sari graciously decided to leave it at that- not without one more cackle, though.
The Vural-class rotary dropship drew closer to the great city carved into the mountain, the great city of Valenspire, with its huge walls and towering spires-
The impenetrable city itself.
After a while, the fleet of old dropships landed in the small hangar bay cut into the side of a mountain, just outside the city. There, hopping out of the vehicle, Percival was approached by a shockingly stout man carrying a datapad. "Check in. Lieutenant Colonel number three, present." The local was counting heads, so to speak. Just a simple roll call-
"Percival. What a pleasure to finally meet you." These words were spoken by a much taller, elegant man wearing long white robes: Valenspire's senator, a renowned diplomat.
A diplomat, that is, with astoundingly bad teeth.
"Sir Morael. Likewise." Percy flashed his best smile and extended his hand in greeting, "My father spoke highly of you." It was a lie. Of course, Morael didn't know that.
"Oh? How delightful!" Another lie. This time, though, the smile was much less flattering. "I dealt with him often. Always a pleasure... Say, how is he now?"
CRACK. Percival would have to get that tooth fixed later... Still, the smile stayed up, albeit a bit strained, "...Sir Lucien is, regrettably, no longer with us. He was killed in the line of service." As if, Percy thought. He was lined up against the wall and slaughtered like livestock, along with the rest of Tessalia.
"Ahh... My condolences, my child. I am... So deeply saddened by the news..." Liar. Liar. Liar... The grip of the handshake was unbearable. Great gods of old, this pale man's teeth are horrific... The sound of the bustling hangar around them pierced through the boy's ears like an electro needle, too much, too loud-
"...Yo, Percy? Who's this creep..." And just like that, the moment passed. Sari's confused tone was a blade cutting through his distress, and just like that, molded it into cold dislike. "...This is Sir Morael. He is the seated senator of Valenspire." Percival's tone was strained. That told Sari all she needed to know.
"My, my..." The tall, pale man bared his yellow teeth in a mockery of a smile. "...Is this one your royal betrothed, then...? Quite a looker, she is..."
Sari, predictably, did not like that.
She growled, "Percy... I'm gonna bite him..."
Despite how much the boy would love to see that, he discreetly kicked her in the shin. "No, you won't. If you bite him, I'm leaving you to the Shuchni'lila..."
"Lord Ruler. Vorren is landing. Requesting meeting." The croaking voice came from another stout man in an engineer's suit, speaking to Morael.
The tall man looked regretful, deceivingly so, "Ahh... I'm afraid I've business to attend to. Important business." The last part was added with that same mockery of a smile. Oh good, Percy thought. Passive aggressiveness.
Both let out a synchronized sigh as he left.
Percy smacked Sari on the back of her head in a scolding manner. "...Honestly, Sari..." He couldn't really say any more. She knew that very well, too.
_______________________________________
A metallic thunking sounded through the trenches, distinct from the faraway artillery fire. The sound came from one man, trudging through the mud in a heavy, battle-torn exosuit. Towering at nearly 8 feet tall, it was a hulking piece of steel, not made for battle yet excelling in it.
"Nice job, General!" Soldiers called to him as he passed, newer ones saluting him while older, more grizzled men flashed a grin.
"Ah, couldn't do it without ya fellas," his booming, friendly voice answered, "drinks on me! Don't be late, haha!"
A cheer sounded throughout the trench. The General marched on, patting soldiers on the back and laughing as he passed.
"You're the best, General!"
"Wouldn't rather be anywhere else,"
"If only everyone else were as great as you..."
"Ha! Whole lot better'n those damn desk generals, eh? Haha!"
He had heard it all before. Of course, the praise from the boots on the ground would have given any lesser man arrogance- But not the General. The General was beloved by his men and women, and hated by other officers. He prioritized his people, kept their morale high, and spent time with them as friends.
His name was General Threx Malcor, of the 301st Royal Confederate Mobile Infantry.
And he was marching on Phuna AUN,
less than a single cycle away.
_______________________________________
"Cheers!" The bar was packed full, yet it didn't feel claustrophobic. It was friendly, warm, "to our great city! Haha!" The words came from Admiral Jalen Vorren, Coalition officer. He lounged back on a chair, lifting a full tankard above his head and a loose grin on his face.
They were celebrating the installation of the Siegehammers. Indeed, it was a joyous occasion...
...
"Ugh... It's so bloody loud in here. It's going to give me a migraine..."
Percy's grumbling was easily drowned out by the noise. The room was, indeed, packed with rowdy patrons.
"Ah, lighten up, Sir!" The good-natured shout came from the woman sitting to his left, Thalia Andstenn, the Livgardet's very own sharpshooter, dark skin smeared with dirt and dust from lying in dirt all day. "This is a big moment. Let 'em have their fun."
"Mhm, mhm," Rikhard Fenholm nodded from the next table over, a techie who ran repairs during battle with more than a few screws loose, "I was up there on the palisades just a while ago, I'll tell ya-"
"Rikard! I knew you were here, you scoundrel!" Rikhard ducked instinctively with a grin, as a thrown mug cracked on the wall behind him, "You're supposed to be running calcs for the guns!" The great bellowing voice of the Livgardet's Sergeant Venn Halmar followed the mug closely, a gruff man best known for his swearing and intense love for "The old ways", as he liked to say.
"Hey-hey! Got the chow~ Eat up, boys!" Tommie Ekran sang, a middle-aged man with a scruffy brown beard, emerging from behind the counter with trays stacked high with suspicious-looking food. He slammed them down on the table with a thunk, much to the dismay of Thalia.
"I helped cook today's menu, so I expect y'all to eat up!" He spoke, still wearing that careless grin and old snow cap from an old mission, "I call it, stew à la mystery meat!"
"I call it a war crime," Thalia said dryly, poking at it with the edge of her fork, "I am not eating that."
"For once, I've got to agree with Thalia..." The usually quiet Thyra Brandt spoke up, the ceremonial flagbearer of the Livgardet, "That looks like it could kill even me..." And that was saying something. She was a tall, gruff woman, about six and a half feet tall, with battle-hardened muscles worn and scarred from constant war. Nothing scared her-
-nothing, except Tommie's stew.
"Aw geez, guys," Tommie rubbed his head in mock embarrassment, clearly not bothered in the slightest, "you're making me feel bad..."
"I-I think it's... Not... Not bad..." Olan Jorvik tried to choke out around a mouthful of stew. He was the youngest of the Tessalian Royal Guard, barely twenty years old, a communications officer eager to please everyone.
"E-excuse me... I need to-" Without another word, he got up and ran outside. As the young man left, the group burst out laughing.
"Ah, poor kid..." Thalia commented, fiddling with the attachments on her rifle, mystery stew long since pushed away, "You guys gotta stop teasin' the poor kid... He's doin' his best, y'know?"
"...I'll go with him. He may need medicine." Ina Korven stood, speaking slowly as ever, broken Galactic common language the only proof of her remaining allegiance to her old world.
Ina shot a dirty look at Tommie as she left, eliciting yet another laugh from him. He leaned back in his chair, raising a sloshing full tankard of ale as he did. "Till Seger, lads! För Tessalias ära!"
"Till Seger," the group echoed, raising their drinks in unison.
"...Are we... Are we still saying that?" Olan had just reentered the room, pale and unsteady, supported by Ina's steady arms, "I mean... Tessalia's-"
"-Gone?" Venn cut the boy off, gruff voice cutting through the tense silence, "Aye. So we say it louder. Sit, boy."
Silence stretched for just a moment longer as Olan sat.
"...Well," Finally, Tommie spoke, fiddling with the cap on his head, "If y'all ain't gonna eat what I made, better get drinking! Till seger!"
The group echoed the chef's chant, almost mechanically- even Olan, this time.
"Alright, alright-" Tommie began, "who's dying next? I got five on Venn, just outta optimism-"
Another laugh.
No one had even noticed that three people were missing. Two, gone much earlier.
And the other slipping out unnoticed.
...
Cold air washed over palisades taller than people. It was just becoming nighttime, the sun had just set, and darkness was closing in.
The Shuchni'lila were on the prowl.
Night-dwelling creatures, they took up residence in the cavernous, rocky ground of Phuna AUN in the day, hunting at night. For so many villages, seeing even one was a death sentence- they would board up houses, turn off lights, muffle all sounds...
Yet Valenspire's great walls were more than enough of a defense.
Percival knew all this, yes... But it didn't stop him from staring down in fascination as the creatures butted their heads against the base of the wall, dozens, maybe hundreds of feet down. Their forms were shrouded in the deep darkness, nothing more than writhing masses in the inky night, guttural roars echoing throughout the valley.
"...I would have thought there would be more of them," he mused quietly, "the locals made them seem like such a problem... But..."
Behind him, Anima stood with her hand on his back, keeping watch.
"...Yeah. It is a bit odd... I only see a dozen or so..." Her eyes scanned the base of the wall, eyebrows furrowed in a rare moment of seriousness.
"Ha. Thought I'd find you here, kid." A third voice spoke up from behind the two. Turning quickly to look, Percy saw Thalia standing with a gently amused smile, her rifle slung over her back. She walked over to them slowly, also looking over the walls once she got close to the two.
Thalia looked at Percy for a moment, a single eyebrow raised, "...you good, kid?"
He nodded in assent, still staring intensely downwards. It was a familiar look, one the Ranger knew well- Percival was thinking.
With a nod, Thalia also turned her attention outwards. Her brow furrowed, her sharp eyes picking something up.
"...Kid," her voice was low, urgent, "when a predator avoids an area with potential food, it means there's a bigger predator that they're scared of."
"...I know." Percy answered quickly, his mind already ahead of her, "yet they aren't afraid of people. We know that much. There are no other creatures native to Phuna AUN that are known to intimidate Shuchni'lila... They're apex predators. They have armored hide, able to shrug off anything short of a pulse rifle..."
"Maybe... Maybe they've just moved on?" Anima was hopeful, yet her muscles were already tensing on reflex, "...Kiddo. We need to get Jalen."
"Can't." Thalia answered before Percy could even try to, her voice sounding more worried by the minute, "he left just a minute ago, with Ardfelt- they're taking a tour of the AA defenses. Sir Morael himself requested an escort."
"...There's no reason for an escort of that size. Unless..." Percival trailed off, "...unless he's expecting an attack... Or-"
"-or he's drawing the defenses away." Thalia finished, her voice cold and steely. Without another moment's hesitation, she jogged off back towards the tavern.
"Anima," Percy whirled about with hard eyes and that familiar calculating expression, "find Valenspire's garrison captain. Tell him to man the walls. Get the engineers to the Siegehammers, and tell them to load the shells."
He began to walk at a brisk pace, not bothering to look behind him as he spoke,
"...Tell them the siege of Valenspire has begun."
...
...