Thought to question, swirled within the mind of that RedForest man.
His figure hunched over, again feeling the weight of his deeds with every volly fired from the dreadnoughts massive cannons.
The shots reverberating through the vast megalithic vessel.
But. In the furthest distance.
Three starships, ablazed with flaming glory. Tore through the sky above the horizon. They stood, firm. Between the Superior Captain and his unholy objective.
The communications officer spoke broken words in an old dialect.
The language of civilisation.
One Redforest himself felt he did not know anymore.
A connection, that bridged space and time, formed the image of both captains as they appeared to each other and proclaimed their purpose.
The RedForest reared it's head, and eyed the new arrival with vicious contempt, as the arrival began to demand what he was doing following his given orders.
Rage erupted like a bonfire set ablaze by lightning in the dry of summer. Sparks fireing back and forth.
One man demanded.
One man withstanded.
One man accused.
The other refused.
One fleet turned.
The other held course.
Turrets rotated.
Cannons charged.
Galzion flared it's plasmatic fury.
As weapons and turrets began their bombard.
The fight, the fight,
It lit up the night.
Galzion and carbon, swirled through the air.
Meeting with violence to their opposing pair.
From the Flagship Scout, out from it's snout.
A beam like flame, soared over the night plain.
It struck the mammoth with exceeding precision.
Yet a glancing blow, for something of it's derision.
A long scar, merely visual, clung to it's face.
Signifying it's disgrace.
Across the port bow and onto the buck.
Yet the great vessel did hold.
Terrifying. Bold.
And with four grand cannons.
Four grand orbs, of world melting power.
Surged through the skies in a second of an hour.
It struck the lead scout, dead in the centre.
Ripped in two, was it no better.
A fall, short, hard. Upon the world's ground.
An earth shatter, world quaking sound.
Three ships did fall,
Three scouts, did fight.
16 vessels, glowing flaming bright.
Exchanging fire, into the cold of the night.
Yet. Though they tried.
They nearly died.
Had the RedForest not had compassion in his eyes.
Ablaze like a light.
Sailing into the dark
of the pale midnight.
Three vessels crushed to the savanna floor.
The Scouts lay there. Forced to the ground.
Their crew's alive, wracked all around.
It takes more than a fall, to kill the Navy.
The scout's leader, with a broken arm,
Made one last call, back to his Command.
Before a medic rushed, to bandage his form.
"Sir. They. Are. Hostile..."
YOU ARE READING
World In Turmoil
Fiksi IlmiahAmongst the empires of the galaxy. Between the factions and the territories. On a rustic world left to itself. A young man had heros once... They were a force sworn to protect. They were a navy of saviours. In a time of need. ...
