Belkaden



Trajan Vespian had not slept in over five days having shot up on cheap stims that played havoc with his body and as he shook his head in a vain attempt to clear it, he found that the computer panel readings were not a halucination.


The Reigns from Simon Kaine's last attack were still moving foward though there were much fewer of them. The Blood had ignored the Republic's fleet and sent their creatures against the Imperial ships that had penetrated farther than any flesh had come in the Belkaden system since the Blood came to the galaxy.


President Calrissian could not understand why the Blood ignored the rest of the fleet, but with the enemy attention diverted, they were not going to look askance at a gift and so the remaining Republic and Imperial warships bit cruely into the flanks of the Blood breaking apart shell and carapace even as the enemy did so against the hulls of the remnants of Kaine's fleet.


They made good use of the damage the Reigns caused by moving farther in mopping up what the Blood left behind thinking that when the last Reign died, whatever Quorom was left would be enough for the them to finally break apart once and for all.


If they could reach the rip that connected the Blood's galaxy with their own and close it, they could stop the flow of new broods into their space forever!


They had never been so close and they probably would not get another chance at this again.


"Push harder!" Trajan snapped and the fleet pressed inward, their cycling weapons spitting out death at an alarming rate.





*



General Grevious watched the battered Republic fleet move forward understanding that their crews and the remaining fighter jocks were all at the end of their endurance.


Everything was unravelling and it seemed that even Kaine's sacrifice was in danger of being nothing more than a futile gesture.


His cloaked craft continued to follow the human led fleet intent on completing the singular mission the Taj had commanded of him.





Azguardia Prime



The clarion call had gone out as the powerful transmitters let out their beacon for any and all sentient beings in range that they had only a finite time to arrive insystem to be a part of Hope.


The Blood would neither receive nor understand the signal. They would, however, detect the flow of life as their aura projected a movement towards Azguardia and the crowning capital of the once great Coalition, now the only remaining functioning galactic government.


Grizzled Admiral Corise Lucern narrowed his hawk-like eyes at the approaching Prime Minister as if the Azguard had personally asked him to strip his warship of weapons. His starships were all he had left. When the Blood ripped through his homeworld of Kashan, he led his fleet to one of the very few victories against the Blood experienced during their initial invasion of the Coursca galaxy. Of course, such a victory was a short lived one for an entire Quorom quickly followed forcing his people to cast their lot with the Coalition and abandon not only their world but their massive military production facilities. Admiral Lucern's consort, Christina Thorn and his son who held a prominent position in their starfighter corps had died in that fateful evacuation. Now, the precious Kashan warships, the legacy of his entire people, were too few to be hazarded in offensive roles that did little to stem the tide of the Blood onslaught.

"Admiral. In ten days we shut the doors to this system."

'Your worldships will not make it," growled the Admiral and Regrad's skin over his eyes stretched upward. "Those fat tubs are too slow!"

"We've been over this before, Admiral. I am not designing fighters. These are extra-galactic Arks. They will take time for their drives to spool online and once they do, nothing will catch them!"


"Aye, But it's the spooling part that worries me." It takes a day and a half for that to happen," Lucern barked back and the Azguard nodded.


"A point and a worrisome one. But I have that well in hand."


Corise hated not knowing. The Azguard leader knew that and it was that not knowing that would sit like a festering boil as the man threw his energies into the defensive works erected to stand the coming tide.


A peace settled over Regrad as the die was now cast. They would either succeed or they wouldn't.

RSD Galactus


The vessel was as silent as a tomb which, in fact, it was as General Grevous made his way through. The dead bodies of the crew asphyxiated or half torn apart by the boarding Blood was evidence of that. The creatures did not spend much time on the bodies since, upon boarding, they found the crew already dead. The savagery of the creatures was evident in the blown bulkheads as maniples pulled apart walls, circuitry and power centers interrupting the AI’s control of the warship.

The Dragon General had time to feel amusement at the strategy of Kaine that called for the death of his entire fleet. Their deaths had to be implemented for two reasons. One, full AI control could not be achieved unless the internal sensors recognized the loss of the crew and two, the Blood’s overpowering telepathic abilities rendered them vulnerable. If one person lived and came under the control of the Blood he would undo the AI’s pre-programmed efforts.

The outer weaponry of the Reigns punched through the larger creatures until they could fire no more and the smaller creatures, driven into a frenzy, eventually cut through the hull as if it were a shell protecting precious food inside, which, in fact, it was. That was when the internal defenses kicked in and it became a fight for the inside of the vessels. The Blood lost precious numbers of the broods that hammered the Reigns but, eventually, even the interior systems fell silent as the numbers of the Blood overcame any strategy of flesh.

That was the crux of their problem. The numbers of the Blood kept growing exponentially. They had to be stopped at the source: that rip in space over Belkaden that allowed these creatures to flood their galaxy. The Republic, in concert with the Empire and other functioning governments, was intent on reaching that source and shutting it off. If they could not, the fate of all beings in the galaxy was in the hands of Prime Minister Regrad and his Project: Hope.

But the Taj had other plans. A powerful Empire would not allow the Black Dragon Empire reach it’s full potential and so it had to be destroyed. The Dracconis had gone back in time and prevented Simon Kaine from becoming Emperor by interrupting his assassination attempt of Daemon Hyfe. But the minions of Heir Raktus had failed to take into account subsequent events that would still happen whether Kaine was Emperor or not, namely, the Themien War and the invasion of the Blood.

The weakened Empire was not able to protect against the Blood’s encroachment as it had (evidently) done before and now all life was threatened.

In another 400 years, the Dracconis matrix should be able to recreate their time device but what they would not have would be a focus point to direct it towards.

That was why the General had to enter the fallen Kaine’s flagship. Skirting damage and patiently floating through corridors of the dark ship, he finally came to a room where the central AI had operated from. Seeing the floating carapace of the creatures floating about, he saw that the ship’s AI had not gone quietly. Using an external portable power source, he plugged into the equipment responsible for data storage. In his mind’s eye, he saw the travels of this once famous ship. Days, months…years passed until he arrived at what he was looking for: The date and time of the Galactus’ presence during the first Belkaden incursion, when the rip was first detected and the start of the Themien War.

The Blood was too strong now and the Taj did not think much of the chances for the various governments efforts to seal the rip or to outrun the Blood.

But, when the Themiens first appeared, the Blood was at its weakest. And that was the time when the Taj, through his soldiers, the Dracconis, would strike.

The General just hated the fact that he would have to be preserved for centuries in a manner that left the precious data he contained intact and usable. He hated, hated, HATED carbonite. But when the Taj commanded, one obeyed.




Azguardia Prime


The news was not good. The Republic’s forces under President Calrissian had failed to close the rip and their last transmission had revealed more broods crossing over. The signal from Azguardia seemed to stir the creatures into action. It was as if they could sense that life in this galaxy was moving away from their advance towards a central location.

Then the transmission went silent.

Scores of ships entered under the watchful galaxy guns controlled by the super artificial intelligence aptly named Guardian. It was strange to Regrad how much the original Smarts AI had grown and evolved and he wondered, if things had gone differently, what that ship could have accomplished. He wondered what they all would have accomplished in a different life but as Jedi Master Ekan was want to say, “If ‘ifs’ and ‘buts’ were candied nuts, we’d all have cavities.” He knew Luke Skywalker put a lot of faith in the former Republic Admiral and even though he suspected Zark plucked his ‘wise’ sayings from literature, he knew Luke’s faith was well placed. There could be no hope without the Jedi and it was Master Ekan’s help that finally pushed this last, desperate plan of theirs to completion.

It was Zark and Han Solo who had ventured into the overwhelmed Commonwealth to rescue those they could. Leia’s husband had died defending his homeworld of Capricia as it was overrun buying the precious seconds needed for his family and others to escape. Now, the damaged Millenium Falcon was being stored into one of the Arks along with several Mon Calamari cruisers, the sum of that sad race’s culture.

The Prime Minister began to think about this being the calm before the storm before he was nearly thrown off his feet as the massive galaxy guns began to fire.

“Guardian!” Regrad snapped into his comlink but his voice might as well have been a squeak against a roaring tide.

The guns fired again and again.

“Admiral Lucern for Prime Minister Regrad!” the computerized voice of the Guardian boomed overhead and the sophisticated AI made the connection without waiting for the Prime Minister’s response having presumed to anticipate it.

“Admiral?” the shaken Regrad asked, the one word conveying the entirety of his questions.

The Admiral was just as brisk, “They’re here.”

The waiting was over and if the enormity of the decision weighed upon Regrad, the Prime Minister did not show it. He simply nodded, “Very well. We will begin the evacuation orders!”

Corise nodded, his scarred eye narrowing slightly. It had come. “We will keep them off your backs. I entrust my people to you Mr. Prime Minister.”

“I will not fail them or you, Admiral,” Regrad hissed softly.

The Kashan asked for nothing more and he disappeared off the monitor.

The fighting Kashan were like the Mandalorians of old. He wondered what sort of society would form out of the splinters residing on the Arks.


“Guardian, Launch the Arks.”

And the second part of the massive AI’s programming began to go into effect, one by one the variety of Ark systems flickering on to take control of the engine components that were always on. With the functions of monitoring and handling the Ark systems now being converted over to the vessel’s on computers, the Guardian was given more freedom to aide in the system defense.

The Azguard turned to the image on another screen and his claws gently tapped the screen. “May the God’s bless your journey, Ark One.”

The Jedi turned politician Irtar Mal’Gro nodded somberly, “Good Luck, Prime Minister.”

The screen flickered.

“Guardian, Tactical,” Regrad ordered as the first of the Ark’s was launched from its berth. He felt his warrior blood begin to boil in anticipation.

Azguards are warriors!

While the allied forces near Belkaden were unable to seal the tear between worlds, they did break up the broods enough that the defenders of the Azguard system were not dealing with the entire Blood force. No, the gaps torn into their numbers were enough to cause the offensive host to arrive in waves rather than all at once.

“Manageable numbers,” Corise had hoped for.

The damage the Galaxy Guns were doing to those on approach must be devastating!


He turned from the computer terminal and saw various Azguard clan-leaders looking at him for direction.


“We will prepare the shield,” he stated flatly.


“We cannot win, Lord,” one of them stated. Regrad almost hissed in annoyance. Of course, they could not win.

“It is not faith in our own chances but faith in our Hope. That our people, wherever they end up, will prosper. That our blood spilled here will not have been in vain.”


The Clan Leaders looked at each other silently nodding.


There is always and always will be: Hope.