Chapter Seven!
Really sorry for the late update, I've been on vacation for Labor Day weekend. Also, school. Quizzes and homework and other fun stuff.
Anyways, here I am!
And here goes nothing!
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(New Character! Yay!)
Ortaan R''sota stared up into the Prythian sky from the roof of his estate. Three of the five remaining moons were visible, polluting the once-pristine night with the dull blue light of hundreds of point-defense cannons, now activated and ready for action 24/7 per the mandate of Chancellor Amia.
The Republic had destroyed Gsajd VI, no doubt in response to the Prythian attack on the Isilon station fleet, as they had done after Musira Station four years ago. As the official ambassador between the Assembly and the UPR, the mission of preventing a multiversal and potentially cataclysmic war fell to R''sota.
In truth, R''sota had no idea what he was going to do. The UPR's response was the least one could expect. Republic sailors had lost their lives, and Republic vessels had been destroyed, all at the hand of a supposedly commandeered Prythian fleet. Yet there was reasonably solid evidence that the Prythian flotilla was following direct orders, issued straight from the highest echelons of the Assembly's government.
R''sota filled the role of a two-way diplomat. As such, he could neither condone the actions of the Republic nor suggest military action against them. A middle ground was required, and yet none seemed to exist. The Assembly was vehemently denying the accusation that the Prythian fleet was ordered to attack the Isilon flotilla, despite the information suggesting otherwise. A Republic Watchtower had, according to the official UPRN reports, intercepted the transmission which had issued the attack order, something the Assembly continually pressed was a fake crafted by extremists to initiate a war. As of now, both sides were looking to R''sota to support a bridge which was rapidly burning down.
War looming on the horizon was not a new thing for citizens of the Assembly. For years, Carok Prime and the rest of the Caroki Star Union had been placed squarely in the sights of Prythian planetbusters, and vice versa. Yet the Republic's military supremacy over the Assembly had never been questioned. Their overwhelmingly large navy was the only reason the Republic maintained a steady influx of Prythian and Caroki resources.
R''sota's transponder buzzed. No doubt it was the Chancellor. To her, time was a commodity now in short supply. In R''sota's eyes, rushing this would more likely than not make the situation worse.
He let it ring.
A few hundred feet north from his estate, a shuttle swooped down to land, firing two oversized thrusters landward and blasting dust into the sky. Twelve Prythian marines marched off of the landing ramp, clad in armor and wielding plasma rifles, forming a full circle around the shuttle and raising their weapons.
R''sota forced himself to stand up. The shuttle was for him, after all, and keeping marines waiting was never a good idea.
In orbit above Prythia was the puddlejumper Century Dawn. She was an ancient model, a relic of the Resource Wars and the long-forgotten Golden Age of Exploration. However, as long as she functioned, there was no need to replace her, nor were there the materials to do so.
Hidden in the shadow of the massive vessel was a destroyer. A vessel even older than the Century Dawn, battered from a decade in frontline service. A rusted, broken down warship that ran on little more than sheer luck.
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Dimension
Science FictionLanguage warning for the actual novel. Paragon. A dying galaxy, exhausted of all but the most basic natural resources and home to three failing superpowers. A great war tore the galaxy apart two and a half centuries ago, and still, the scars are viv...