Why did the war start? It’s a deceptively simple question, but to understand how all these billions of people have died, and, indeed, continue dying, requires a basic knowledge of the events that happened before, in addition to a modicum of understanding about Darkfire culture.
Ruthless expansion is the driving force behind all Darkfire ventures. Some would tell you that military conquest is their imperative, but that’s only really part of the picture. There are two industries in the Darkfire Empire: war and colonization. One always serves to feed the other. That being said, one could argue warfare is the primary pursuit of the Empire, and there’s probably some truth to that. Their limitless numbers of soldiers, the awesome power of their mighty capital ships, the brutality with which they crush any opposition; this all speaks to a single-minded drive towards destruction. At least, that’s the common Earth perception.
For decades, the Empire had been using technology licensed from the Draconis that allowed them to grow clones in a few years, and in astonishing numbers. Indeed, many Imperial officers use their soldiers as a blunt instrument, safe in the knowledge that no matter how badly executed a plan is, by sheer dint of numbers it will succeed. And though admission into the officer corps is most commonly by birth, it’s rare to advance far based on blood alone. Because of this, officers who wield their troops like a cudgel almost never advance beyond company command, and the truly awful ones are usually killed by their subordinates.
The Darkfire power structure is as unique as it is convoluted. Though the Emperor rules with absolute power, the aristocracy do have some influence, as does the Leadership Council. The Leadership Council is made up of the twenty most senior generals, the twenty most senior admirals, four field marshals, and the heir to the throne. To attain the rank of field marshal in the Darkfire Army, one must be both a full admiral and full general. Due to the fast promotion of officers in the field, it occurs more than it might in any other army. The commitment required to become a field marshal is so rigorous that only the absolute best in the service even attempt earning the rank, with a 99% failure rate. They are also the only officers guaranteed to command from an Imperial Dreadnought, the most powerful ships in the galaxy.
That being said, the Darkfire army was limitless. For every soldier that was killed, ten more had been shipped out to the front lines that morning. The Draconis cloning technology provided their manpower, but their insatiable lust for resources made them dangerous. Hundreds of worlds have been strip-mined by the Darkfire. They were so thorough and advanced that they would never suffer a strain on resources. The sometimes-inefficient command structure and lack of initiative on the part of their lower ranking soldiers provided their enemies with an edge, albeit a somewhat intangible one. They were constantly vying with Earth for colonization and resource rights, which is as close as anyone can come up with for a casus belli.
And so it came to be that The Third Interstellar War began. Riding high from its victory over several independent worlds, the Darkfire juggernaut began its assault on the Earth worlds. The Taurus system had the dubious honor of being the first to fall. Two full Dreadnought fleets, led by the grandson of the Emperor, warped in on the outer edge of space.
Horatio Darkfire, next in line for the Imperial Throne, was the youngest person to ever reach the rank of field marshal at the age of 32. He was something of an anomaly among the Darkfire high command. Typical Darkfire strategy for pacifying indiginous populace usually involved very high body counts. At the other end of the spectrum, Horatio tried to win the hearts and minds of his enemies, with a very high success rate, as well as trying to reduce civilian casualties to the absolute minimum. In an army where high amounts of collateral damage were a license to bragging rights, he was viewed with a certain amount of suspicion by his peers, though the soldiers that served under him loved him. Failure under most officers would result in death or imprisonment, but unless it was an incredible amount of incompetence that led to the failure, they could expect much more leniency under him. Because of his youth and royal blood, many of the other officers in the Leadership Council don’t believe him to be half as skilled as he ought to be for someone in his position. He was well aware of this, and took every opportunity to personally lead his troops in battle.
As the Darkfire forces arrived, panic spread among the few Earth ships defending the planet. A corvette jumped out of the system almost immediately to run for help. Horatio grinned. “Singe them.”
The Imperial Dreadnought, The Emperor’s Hand, was more than twice the size of a regular Dreadnought. Very few of its weapons actually fired on the first volley. Just enough struck the defending fleet to destroy a frigate or two and send the rest scurrying for help. Horatio deployed his fleets into a defensive formation while The Emperor’s Hand hid behind a moon at the edge of the system and went dark. An hour later, an Earth Supercarrier fleet warped into the system and immediately engaged the Darkfire ships. The Earth ships spread out as fast as they could, wary of a Darkfire NOVA launch, which would effectively destroy any ships within a several thousand kilometer radius.
As soon as the Supercarrier, which had been identified as the Moscow had been seperated from all but a few of her escort ships, The Emperor’s Hand fired up her engines and joined the fight, behind the Earth ships.
The Moscow tried to rally a defense against the new threat, but it was too little, too late. One broadside from The Emperor’s Hand blew out the Moscow’s shields. Grinning as the Earth ships’ fire was absorbed by his ship’s shields, Horatio commanded, “Open a line to the Moscow. Put it on the main screen. If she tries to run, shut her down, but don’t kill her. I want her in one piece.”
The heir had to keep from laughing when the captain of the Moscow came onto the screen. He was obviously terrified, but apparently decided to try and intimidate the Darkfire prince. “Admiral, there’s no reason to keep fighting,” Horatio began. “Surrender your ships and crews and I’ll spare your lives. I won’t even do you the indignity of sending you to a POW camp. I’ll send you back home unharmed. This will be the only chance you get to walk out of here alive.”
“Go to hell, Darkfire! I’ll never surrender, especially not to filth like you.”
“My, my, admiral, no reason to be hostile. I’ll allow you to bear witness to the consequences of your insolence.” Turning to a crewmember, he said, “Fire the NOVA. Burn the world.” On the screen, the admiral was visibly horrified as he saw the NOVA launch from the bow of The Emperor’s Hand. When it impacted the planet, the light was bright enough to rival the sun. As it died down, he could see what had once been a lush green world turn into an angry red wasteland riddled with rivers of lava. By then most of the Earth fleet had been destroyed, with whatever remained fighting to the death or turning to run. It didn’t matter at that point, because by now dozens of worlds were under attack. “Now, my dear admiral, prepare to be boarded. I plan on killing you myself.” The video link cut off.
“Your orders, sir?” a crew member asked.
“I’m going to take a battalion and board her. The Legion will assist me. Admiral, the bridge is yours.” The crew snapped to attention as the prince left the bridge.
“Pretty confident, isn’t he?” one of the crewmen asked.
The admiral grinned. “You’ve never seen the Legion in action, have you?”
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