[Galavant station UEC, Incoming transmission.]

“... But the immense wealth and resources that flow throughout gates were never meant for us. Kleese work the docks Loading and unloading precious cargo. The Tymerians fix the pipes, humans fix the filters, and the myrialos fix the water purifiers we keep this rock Living is and breathing. Our cast toil and suffers without hope and without end. And for what? To be raped, beaten, fed on occasion, one day the ACM will use its power to wrest our control from Equestria, and Eques will go to war to take it back. To them we will always be slaves! That's all we are to the UEC! Eques built their Empire on our backs, Spilled the blood of a million of our brothers. But in their eyes, were not even sentient anymore. So the next time you look in the mirror, say the word. Slave! Every time we demand to be heard they hold back our water, In space they ration our air, until we crawl back into our holes and do as we are told! So when the time comes I know what side I'll be on, do you!”

=======================================================

[COG fleet twenty-six]

[NACS-22058.2 Manitoba]

(Miiora)

I love the human showers, the hot clean water, going down my scales it feels amazing, to say the least. Having Fallon in charge of the team means I have privacy to use the squad's shower. But now my revelry in being able to use the shower is interrupted by the warning claxon.

“Combat stations, Combat stations All hands Combat stations. break, Ready five squadrons Alpha to November Launch launch launch!”

I re-clothe myself before scrambling out of the shower and into the squad birth and begin to feel myself being lifted from the deck as the Manitoba kills her thrust. Gently flicking my tail up against the ceiling pushing myself back toward the deck where my Claw coverings magnetize with a click. I hear the hatch slide open and catch the sight of a female with blond shoulder length hair. Dressed in a form-fitting black and orange Nordic Empire flight suit sprinting out of the door, helmet clutched in one hand. I suppress a hiss as I put on the battle armor the NAC created for its new Tymerian recruits I look to Avery Fallon who smiles in my direction.

“Put me on the ground any day of the week, Shoot me out of a bio-pod whenever you want. But I hate this space battle bullshit.” he says as he puts on his black Battle armor. He straps on what looks like a pack of some kind before grasping his M-66C and clamping the weapon to a seat before sitting down and strapping in.

“Miiora, Trombely sit down and strap in.”

===================================================================

(Charlotte)

“Icequeen, Snowman. We have inbound fast movers, Move to intercept, launch, launch, launch.”

I look to the left as the crew chief points down the catapult before flashing my recognition and goosing the engines. The Icons representing my squadron flash to life on the tactical plot, before the blue icons representing Snowman’s Razgriz squadron appears as well. As we scream through the black I can't help but hope Avery will be safe on board the Manitoba.

++++++Incoming tight beam++++++++

“Squadron leaders we have an enemy fighter on our tail, Hostile heading your way. Sending silhouette, Weapons free.”

++++++++Tight beam end+++++++++++++

‘This is Snowman I am, go on guns, weapons hot.’

“Attention fighters this NACS Kamehameha, we are full burn on the way.”

As the Defiant sails passed I scan the panoramic view of the inside of my fighter's cockpit. There in the distance, a glowing red pinprick stands out, my onboard computer highlights the object and displays a distance counter 20km and closing fast.

My attention is drawn to an actual picture wedged into an unused section of my control panel and smile. The picture shows Avery and myself as children in a suburban park. The boy from the PRC smiling while holding a toy Siafu in one hand while in with his other he holds my hand. I a privileged diplomat's daughter grasps his hand with a smile and a small blush on my face while in my other hand I hold a toy of an orange mark 1 Gungnir fighter.

I remember that day, my parents had taken Avery and his mother with us on vacation to hide the fact that there was about to be a welfare riot. In the background my parents smile while sitting on a park bench, the picture having been taken by Avery’s mother. I guess even at that age glancing at the toys in our hands we knew what we were going to be, without even knowing it.

Taking the moment to close my eyes and gather myself before opening them again and glancing back at the incoming. It’s 10km distance, Showtime, I thumb the selector on my throttle before the overlapping square and circle appears and begins flashing. Magnifying the image to verify the silhouette before letting the serpent missile fly. The angry firefly of the missile streaks off into space and explodes after about a minute of acceleration taking the strange glowing object with it. The light from the soundless explosion backlight what looks like black silhouettes of three small strange looking spacecraft.

‘Squadron leaders count two-five enemy marks at point one-five.’ Suddenly the space in front of us flairs to life as more red blowing objects appear. The strange craft appears to be trident shaped, and side from the portions of their hull’s that are glowing red, they appear to be almost organic and black as pitch. My mind races to come up with a known race or faction with something like this, small fighter class, black ships, but stealth….

Suddenly the pail red blip of a “Hostile Unknown” appears on the tactical plot and streaks passed my starboard wing and slams into one of the NAC Shrikes. The two icons disappear from the plot before the tactical plot updates the unknowns to the solid crimson of “Hostile confirmed”.

[Missile verrouillé, Missile verrouillé]

“Merde!” I flick the switch to the Alt mode and burst in a half barrel roll to starboard deploying chaff and flares while using my left arm gatlings to shred the incoming missile. Then this area of space turns into the second circle of hell as glowing black and red spacecraft engage the COG ready five squadrons.

Flicking back to fighter mode I flip to engage one of the black fighters only to see it slam into one of my Valkyries. The cockpit section of the fighter blasts apart by the force of the impact before the entire thing explodes. I burst forward passed the explosion and watch as one of these alien fighters fires two glowing red missiles at one of the SRA Torkov fighters. The bulky fighter deploys flares in response and the missiles go dumb and explode short of their target. Seeing that its attack isn't working whatever is controlling the alien ship fires a series of white barbs from the underside of the ship.

The Torkov being less maneuverable than the alien ship ends up making a fatal error and receives a burst of barbs just behind the cockpit. The SRA fighter goes limp in space failing to explode as I finally get a missile lock on the alien and blow it from existence. Out of morbid curiosity, I look to see if the pilot survived and am greeted with the grisly sight of the upper torso of the pilot floating out of the bloody cockpit.

“This is Razgriz one I have two on my tail.”

“Icequeen copies, Razgriz one. Moving to assist.”

==========================================================

(Space)

The two groups of fighters streak around each other in space like a swarm of angry gnats while the Hammerhead Cruiser Kamehameha lumbers its way into position. However, this is when the unexpected happens the glowing red fighters who had previously been engaging the COG fighters immediately disengage and make a B-line for the hammerhead cruiser. In response, the cruiser lets loose with a volley spread of missiles, and point defense fire. Eight, sixteen, thirty-two missiles burst from their launch tubes and streak towards the hostile fighters. In response the alien fighters either shoot down the oncoming missiles with the white barbs or use each other as shields, throwing themselves in the way of oncoming missiles to ensure the fighter behind can maintain its course. Eventually, three Fighters turned Missile slam full tilt into the cruiser's hull. One carves a swath of destruction down the port armor plating, another slamming into the hammerhead amidships. And the final manages to slam into the cruiser's port side Fighter bay punching right through the thick metal plating like it wasn't even there.

The holes in the ship's hull belch out smoke and debris, sparks and water from destroyed sections fly off into space. And beside the debris are the bodies of the crew who were in those sections, their bodies sucked out by the sudden decompression, severed heads, limbs all removed sections of the ship on the unfortunate individual's exit of the ship.

‘Attention all fighters you have more hostile fighters advancing from sector nine-three, point two-two’

“Captain I am picking up…. Sir we have been boarded! Single border, Port hangar bay!” a sensor operator yells from the CIC of the Kamehameha.

“Sir! I am picking up a radiation pulse!”

“My god… warm up the nukes, maximum yield. Let's blow this bitch straight to hell. Empty the magazine.”

===============================================

(Charlotte)

‘Icequeen, do you see that?’

“All fighters, all fighters maximum burn return to the fleet. Attention all COG units, Attention All COG units, Nuclear fire mission Level five radiation warning.”

“What the hell? Lets move people!” As I flip my fighter back towards the fleet I see the silhouette of something massive appear as streaks of red light begin to illuminate the inky black of space. Four massive white scythe-like protrusions each one easily the length of the Kamehameha appear the glowing red sections giving them the appearance of being covered in blood.The glow then continues down the massive bulk of the ship's massive superstructure, spots of glowing red highlighting the Jetblack organic structure of the ship's hull.

I go for the maximum burn that will allow me to stay in formation, while the Kamehameha sails by us. The tactical plot shows the blue icon of the NAC ship emptying her magazines at the massive six-mile long vessel. The ship in response sends another wave of that strange fighter from holes in its hull who slam directly into the Kamehamehas hull. Fifty, one hundred, one-twenty, two hundred missiles and more fill the airspace between the NAC ship and the unknown claw ship. Then the ship launches her nukes five hundred megatons of nuclear fire fill the space vaporizing the Hamehameha instantly and blinding the sensors of any COG vessel looking in that general direction.

In space for the next few minutes, there’s a third sun in the Helian system. However, when we go for the turn around to reunite with the fleet and re-arm and refuel the light and radiation dies down and we see that the alien claw ship doesn't have a scratch. As the second wing of COG fighters launch and ours lands, another wing of Alien fighters launches as well from their mothership.

‘Attention all fighter craft in sector six two. Move to sector seven, three. Attention all ships this is Manitoba actual, we are raising the black flag.’

The forty-year-old Annihilator-class Siege breaker that is the flagship of COG fleet twenty-three begins to slow as its running lights dim slightly. Along with its hull, the huge heatsinks rise from their resting place’s in its hull as its main railgun charges. Arcs of heat lightning stretch from the heatsinks as the Manitoba’s bow begins to blueshift from the heat. Massive vents open in its ventral and dorsal hull as it begins venting jets of blindingly bright superheated gas from the barrel like the muzzle break on a rifle.

There is a flash of pseudo-motion as something white hot flashes three hundred miles off of my fighters port wing. Then one minute later there is a flash of light so bright my fighters computer cuts the visual feed leaving me in the dull green glow of my HUDs tactical plot. When the light dies down enough for my computer to return my vision I have the sudden urge to throw up. In front of the alien ship, there is a massive expanding bloom of superheated gas and backlit by the light of the explosion another shape looms off of its starboard side. My brain makes the connection with the massive oblong shape before all across the fleet alarms begin going off.

‘Siege warning, Siege warning Lanky seed ships detected.’ In every battle, we have ever had with the Lanky's they do something that breaks our expectations of them, and now when we think we have figured out their playbook they turn another page.

The strange thing is thought that the seed ship in the distance isn't the jet black of usual Lanky design. But a rust red the color of Mars dirt, we have only ever seen red lanky seed ships once and that was after they burst from the planet's surface. This ship and others like it are proven veterans of the war and almost every time they appear it marks the site of a vicious battle for the pride of humanity. They represent humanity's failer to protect its first colony and are reminders of how close we came to extinction.

‘Attention Coalition forces this is Manitoba actual, Orion fire mission, clear the back blast. Level nine radiation warning.’

A new vector line appears on my HUD and I look to see one of the three massive 1 kilomiter long Orion missiles detatch from the Manitobas hull like a missile from a fighter. The massive Pycreat missile thrusts forward sueing conventinal thrusters as the entierty of the fleet moves out of the blast radeus of humanitys dertyest weapon. In the distance another of the red seed ships appear from the black, flanked by five of their jet black cousins.

Six hundred metric tons of Pycreat flairs to life as a small star ignites behind it. The first of the missiles nuclear-shaped charges ignites propelling it forward. Then after six seconds a second then a third, a fourth, a fifth as the Orion squirts its nuclear thrust as it rockets toward the alien ship in the distance. Radiation warnings start going off throughout the fleet, and no doubt ships on the other side of the system would be picking up the massive radiation bursts. I manage to land my fighter inside of the flight deck of the Manitoba, staying inside of my cockpit while the techs rearm and refuel my fighter.

The minute's tick passed as the Orion missiles close the distance accelerating to fractional speeds under nuclear thrust. However, one minute before impact one of the black seed ships moves its massive bulk to intercept with the missile. The Orion lacking any kind of guidance system and moving at fractional speeds slams into the seed ship reducing the ship and its inhabitants to their component atoms.

‘Ingoming fighters, All wings scramble. Scramble, scramble! Marines stand by to repell boarders.’

As I am catapulted from one of the Manitoba’s launch tubes a thought crosses my mind. We came to this system to help the Helghast defeat the UEC, and now we rest on the brink of a battle for the pride of humanity and our very survival. Our intelligence reports state that the UEC despite some of their arguably advanced technology struggle to battle the Lankys. Unlike the UEC our personnel and equipment are up to the task. Two entire generations bred to fight them, built for This war.

Author's Notes:

The chapter I hope you have all been waiting for. Let me know what you think.