[DaoCFan 2.0]

Chapter One
In Which All Things Began

Daociro awoke one pristine morning and looked down upon the wonderful planet of Inheritance.
"All the places I'll go." Daociro said; he brought his hands to his chin. And said conclusively "I think I'll check out the Science Forums today."
The Science Forums was a long rectangular hall; rimmed with white marble pillars, down in this room sat a man with angelic wings that stretched to either side of the room; his eyes however, were vibrant, and full of truths that no one understood; or even wanted to.
"Hey Eyes? I had an idea the other night."
"Let me guess, you think that gravity is limited again?"
"Yeah, pretty much."
"Daoc, Daoc. It's all explained in String Theory and the theory of Quantum Thermodynamics! Theories are all fact!"
"Oh really Eyes?" said a voice from the corner of the room.
The two of them turned around, and saw a black cloak approaching them. While Daociro saw nothing underneath; Eyes clearly saw the face of a skull, with two flaming red eyes.
"Hello there Corsair." said Eyes coldly.
"Charming to see you here." said Corsair sarcastically. "Still trying to state your04 and bull theories I see?"
Eyes went pink. "Don't you be rubbing around that arrogant crap with me you big ugly-
"STOP!" commanded a voice from the end of the room.
They all turned around, and Daociro saw at the entrance a woman, who looked like Aragorn from afar. But most notably of all, was the beast that stood behind her. A great big thing... A great— big —
Cat.
"Hey, Excelsior!"
"Hey, Daociro!" called the woman named Excelsior "Now I'd advise you all to stop fighting, before my little friend here eats you."
The cat behind her licked her chops menacingly. The two of them then exited the room.
"Until our next crossing." said Corsair darkly, and he went back into the shadows.
"Man that stinks." said Daociro.
"Yeah, we should really continue this conversation elsewhere."
"Hey why don't we go to Shade's Shop OF DOOM? It's pretty comfy there; with nice fluffy pillows-
"OF DOOM" finished Eyes.
"Yeah you've got a point there."
"I Know!" Eyes said "Why don't we go to the newly made Rupert Grint is Sexy Topic!"
"That one got closed a few weeks ago Eyes."
"Damn it!"
"Wait, I got it! Let’s go to Tyrant's Smoothie Shop!"
"Not a bad idea Daoc! We can talk about Quantum Thermomechanics Theory, AND get fat at the same time!"
"Great idea! Let’s go add more flames to the Obesity problem of America!"
...Later at the Smoothie Shop.
"Stryker where are my smoothies?" called a little girl to behind the counter.
"In a minute sir." said Stryker miserably.
"THAT'S TYRANT TO YOU!!!" suddenly a rock magically appeared into the girlish hand and he threw it at Stryker.
"OWW! – Hey neat rock!"
"Thank you, hehe!" said Tyrant in a little sweet voice.
"Excuse me miss?" called Eyes.
"I'M A GUY!" roared Tyrant irately.
"Oh, sorry, excuse me sir?"
"Hello there, sir! Welcome to Tyrant's Smoothie Shop! How may I serve you?”
"Yeah I'll have a Signature Shake with a Rupert Grint."
"And, I'll have a..."
"DID I ASK YOU?!" roared Tyrant to Daociro.
"Oh, he's with me." said Eyes.
"Oh! And what will you have sir?" said Tyrant in that sweet little girl voice again.
"Um... I'll have a Kingdom of Heaven Cappuccino, with a screen name on the side."
"Thank you sirs! Wait here while we tenderly and graciously prepare your meals."
Tyrant stepped back to the counter. He magically created two more stones in his hand and threw them at Stryker.
"GET MOVING! WE HAVE ORDERS TO FILL!!!"
"I'm working as hard as I can sir!" pleaded Stryker.
"NO YOU AREN'T!!!"
Suddenly there was an explosion, and the back of the store erupted into flames.
"AHHHHH!!!!!" screamed Stryker "....... Hey cool flames!"
Meanwhile, Eyes and Daociro sat on the boardwalk. Talking about a theory that neither of them really had a clue about.
"So you're telling me that according to this theory of Quantum Thermodynamics... It's really impossible to make a perfectly well done Hamburger?"
"Exactly." responded Eyes.
"What if you burn the hamburger?"
"That my friend is one of the great loopholes in this theory, like Black Holes in the Universe."
"Ah. Oh hey, Woil Ono."
A massive sludgy amorphous blob walked along the boardwalk, it turned its head to the two of them, and opened its wide flaccid mouth.
"Heio Daico! Eoieses!"
"Pleasure to see you." said Eyes sarcastically, and with a grimace upon his face as his fumes wafter to his nose.
"Waht rae yuo tlniakg aubot?"
"Ntnihog" said Eyes cooling.
"Whhuu? Speak Egnlsih!"
Eyes rolled his.
The blob shrugged "Whtaver wridoes. Rmeemebr, Draogns Rlue!"
A weird dragon like shape erupted from its edifice, and made a weird roaring gesture. From what they could tell, that dragon must be in pain.
"What was that all about?" asked Daociro.
"I'm as baffled as you are." responded Eyes.

Chapter Two
The Dragon's Ascent

Suddenly another man walked up to them.
"Hey look, is that Sora?" asked Daociro, while pointing to the man, who had wild, golden hair, and looked suspiciously similar to the main character of the critically acclaimed RPG; Kingdom Hearts.
"Gone." answered Eyes.
"Sora's not gone."
"No, that’s Soragon."
"Hey guys." called Soragon.
Daociro and Eyes exchanged greetings with him.
"Yo, have you heard about this junk?” Soragon handed a piece of paper to them. The two of them eyed it closely.
"What's this?" Daociro asked.
"Oh, that’s a recruitment paper for the Draconis Empire." Soragon answered. "Those rebels drive me nuts."
Indeed, it was a paper for the Draconis Empire. Upon it was a long, lanky man with no shirt. Hair white as snow, eyes like fire. Beneath him it read...

"JOIN THE DRACONIS EMPIRE! TODAY THE CHIT-CHAT FORUMS! TOMMOROW, THE WORLD!"

"This is ridiculous." said Eyes, tossing the paper over his shoulder. It fell gently into the shady abyss below.
"What's their purpose anyway?" asked Daociro earnestly.
"No one knows." Soragon answered. "That guy on the poster, (Randomic Slayer I think his name is) he just started recruiting people into his army, promising them power and glory."
"The road to hell is paved with good ambitions I suppose" Daociro said.
"Well, they haven't done anything bad, yet." Soragon answered. "I just don't trust them, something's iffy about them."
"I agree." stated Eyes.
"Same here." said a female voice behind them.
Soragon jolted around, Eyes and Daociro's head shot up.
A weird misshapen creature gazed back at them, looking somewhat like a leopard, except not as cool.
"Hey Yoli." waved Eyes.
"Back on topic, back on topic." insisted Yoli. "I don't trust them either, and my superiors don't either. You know, the High Ones, the Ones Always Watching..."
She breathed the name, as she uttered it time seemed to slow. "...Michelangelo..."
Daociro felt for sure somewhere in the world something extraordinary was happening... Like birds singing in the heavens... Of course they just have been taking a dump on a windshield... Good things to one thing, is a bad thing to another.
While Daociro thought aimlessly about the birds taking a dump on a windshield. Eyes asked Yoli "Do you think you'll ever join the High Order?"
"Shhh! Such talk is Blasphemous! – Heavens, heavens no I am not that mighty."
"Some people would disagree." Soragon said complacently. "Many, including me, think you’re worthy."
"Hush, hush!" Yoli laughed, her face blushing. "I'm too modest for such a thing."
Suddenly Tyrant approached them, "Here are your drinks sirs!"
"Oh, thank you." Eyes said, handing her the money.
There was a very, very, grim silence that followed.
"Wh-where's my tip?" whispered Tyrant in that little girls voice.
"Uh, I, I."
"You didn't forget to give me a tip did you now?" he brought his finger to his dimple and twisted it.
"I... I... I..."
"...Well?"
"Um... I...."
"ANSWER ME YOU PIECE OF CRAP!" Tyrant roared in that evil voice.
"I don't have any change." answered Eyes fearfully.
"Really?" said Tyrant in that girl’s voice.
"Yes sir." Eyes whispered.
"Oh... well then... I take it your business is no longer welcome."
"Help me Yoli!" hissed Eyes.
"There's nothing I can do I'm afraid. It's capitalism at work."
"Sorry!" pleaded Eyes in a tiny voice.
"GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!!!" bellowed Tyrant. And it was then that the earth quaked, and a long, brilliant lightning bolt hit Eyes in the head, as Eyes convulsed around in the light, Soragon could only say.
"Wow... cools lightning."

Chapter Three
A Word of the Awards

While Eyes still writhed about in the sparks; Yoli said.
"Are you all going to the Inheritance Award Ceremonies tonight?"
Soragon turned to her, "Where is it?"
Yoli responded earnestly "Where do you think? Announcement Hall!"
The lightning stopped and Eyes crawled out of the pile of soot and ash. "Oh really?" he panted. "I-I thought it was in... The Chit-Chat Forums."
Yoli laughed "No, no, this is too important for such riffraff. But, on a more serious note." She sighed. "The Draconis are going to be holding a demonstration there."
Daociro stopped thinking about the birds and the turds at mention of this. "What kind of demonstration?" he asked alarmingly.
"They're marching I think, to kind of get the affair started off."
"But you've got to stop them Yoli!" Daociro pleaded. "You don't know what they may be-
"I know, I know Daoc. Don't you think I already tried?" Yoli seemed very serious now. "...Well, whatever I could of done; I've lost the chance to do." she looked down at her paws and began to stroll off. "I'll see you all at the award ceremony." she called back, and then she went off.

"What do you think is eating her?" asked Soragon.
"Who knows." said Eyes and Daociro in unison.
"Just give the girl a little free time." said Tyrant in that girl voice, yet calmly and quietly. "I'll be there though." He turned to Eyes then "And you'd better have my tip, punk!" she snarled in that evil voice again.
"Yes sir." whimpered Eyes.
"See you later!" Tyrant called back happily, and she too went off, probably to order around Stryker again.
"Oh, speaking of the Forums I best is off; I should be expecting something!" Soragon remembered. "I'll see you two later!" he ran off.
"You too!" called Daociro.
After Soragon left, Eyes and Daociro enjoyed their slushies... Little knowing that these would be the last days of comfort they'd witness for a long time.

Chapter Four
The Lord of Inheritance

Hours later, Daociro stood in the slowly gathering Announcement Hall. The ceiling loomed so far above, he could have sword a cloud had drifted in and started to rain.
"Daoc!" called someone.
He turned around, and behind him stood two familiar sights, A woman with white skin, clothed in white garments, black hair and a headband, and a man, a battle-worn man, a scar running long on his face; his body encased in a heavy suit of armor.
"Hello Saphfyre, Sverdar."
"Hey there Daoc." said the man. "You ready for the ceremony?"
"Why should I be ready? I'm not going to win anything."
"Good point." said Saphfyre.
"This should be interesting though." said Sverdar, rubbing his scruffy chin. "They've got quite a few guys out there."
"From Draconis?" Daociro asked.
"Draconis." said Sverdar and Saphfyre together.
Daociro looked down, and then asked. "Do you think you two will win anything?"
"Me? Nah! Everyone knows Bosco will win everything." Sverdar said.
"Even if he gets all the crappy awards; here its quantity, not quality." Saphfyre finished earnestly.
"Oh, I see." Daociro said. "Oh look, here's Eyes."
Eyes walked in, looking the same casual self that he was before.
"Hey Daoc, Sverdar, Saphfyre." he said, "You two want to sit with us?"
"Us? Oh certainly!" said Sverdar thankfully.
They all took their seats; within the course of a few minutes, the auditorium grew from a quiet gathering of a dozen, to a chattering horde of nearly a thousand.
But when the light upon the stage went alight; all went silent. And all gazed forward.
There was the sound of a small door opening in the corner, all turned heads. And walking towards the stage was a man, in white robes. His skin was Caucasian, his hair spiked and blonde; face, minutely chubby. But as he walked, it was so silent, that a pin drop would sound like an atom bomb. And even the pin would have the courteously to keep quiet now, if it fell.
His footsteps echoed across the stage; and there stood at the podium, the Lord of all Inheritance.
"Good evening." said Michelangelo, in greeting.
The crowd remained silent still.
"Today, we are here to award, to the great members of our society, a chance to stand before the world, as champions." his words continued to echo across the basilica. Falling upon deaf ears he could not tell... so like all men of innovation, he tried to figure it out if they were.
Michelangelo whistled throughout the vastness; it was answered in turn, by a loud call of whistles spread evenly throughout the theatre.
Michelangelo clapped, and everyone inside clapped in turn.
Finally Michelangelo yelled abruptly "AHHH!! AHHH!!! AHHHHH!!!" and everyone inside the hall screamed in a loud din. The windows shuttered as the call came to end.
Michelangelo rubbed his sore throat. "Anyways, let us congratulated Yoli. Is she amongst these masses? I do say, I cannot see here."
"I am right behind you, sire."
"Oh there you are, and don't call me that; you sound foolish."
"For give me... master."
Michelangelo rolled his eyes. While everyone in the room broke out in boisterous applause for their most beloved of peers.
Michelangelo raised his hand, and the clapping subsided.
"Now, please sit back, relax. And witness this lovely" (his voice was coated with false approval) "demonstration, by the Draconis Empire."
The room fell silent, and everyone adjusted themselves to see the entrance of the room, now alit with light.
Unbroken silence still lingered, as suddenly there were beheld the rhythmic beating of drums. People turned around, shifting their eyes. And then finally, the doors of the basilica opened.
There were the clopping of hooves, and Daociro, looking back, beheld a fearsome sight. A black horse, all black, except its eyes which were red like hot coals. And upon its sinister saddle; was an awful figure.
"I think that's the man from the poster." Daociro whispered to Eyes.
Daociro wasn't the only one whispering now, many people did. For the din of marching footsteps, clacking hooves, and banging drums; drowned out all sounds.
"I know that’s Randomic Slayer." said Eyes to Daociro.
"He's far more fearsome in person." Daociro commented.
"Not to me, he looks drop dead gorgeous."
Daociro turned to Eyes, an incredulous look borne upon his face.
"Oh... um, sorry." said Eyes.
Black banners filled the sky, ahead of the battalions of men, and behind Randomic were two other black horses. Each man had wretched crowns, twisted and cruel.
"Who are those guys?" Eyes asked Sverdar.
"I think that's Sergeant Major Jefferson to the left; you can tell by that lazy eye of his."
"Damn do you point out details?" Eyes commented.
"And besides him is Morzan" Sverdar continued to state. "He has that long red sword there, the one with the runes."
"Way to go Sverdar! Pointing out the specifics!" said Saphfyre.
"Well I try." Sverdar said, blushing.
The armies continued marching; now the banging of drums was meet by the calls of trumpets and the chants of soldiers, or as Daociro saw them, madmen.
Randomic held his head aloft, his albino hair rocking with the motion of his steed. He held up his right, and all the men stopped. All idle chit chat stopped post haste.
Randomic gazed forward, into the eyes of Michelangelo.
"Ah." Michelangelo said. "What a lovely demonstration you've shown to us. Come now all give him applause."
People in the stands, clapped, but with all insincerity, though some in the stands rose up and clapped wildly and with highest approval. Corsair being amongst them, Eyes saw. And a feral hatred gleamed in his brilliant eyes. Only what Randomic did next contained it.
"Stop clapping! All of you!" he spat to the crowd. People stopped, and shunned back, in fear. "Ah, Michelangelo... It has been a while."
"A while that should not have ended."
"Ah, I doth protest my liege" Randomic mocked. Most men would not laugh before a near god; Randomic was not one of those men. He brought his head high, and laughed as loud as he could, so everyone heard that he was able to defy the will of the gods. He whipped the right end of his lips with the back of his leather glove.
"Come now Mikey. Look around me!" he held out his arms. "I achieved something that you could never hope of dreaming!"
"And for what reason have you assembled this hoste may I add?" Michelangelo asked.
"For reasons that you cannot even fathom." Randomic said. And then he reared his horse around to face the people.
"A new day is here!" he called. "And it belongs to Draconis!" he drew his sword and rose it high into the air. His men went wild with applause, drums banging, horns blowing. The few supporters he had in the stands clapped with approval.
Randomic then gazed down to Sergeant Major Jefferson, his sword still in the air. And he commanded.
"Let them know."
Sergeant Major Jefferson smiled, and he withdrew his bow. "With pleasure." he aimed towards the wall behind
Michelangelo, where the image of a blue dragon facing west was hung.
The arrow was sprung, going alight with cruel flame in midair. Some people screamed, fearing the arrow would strike Michelangelo. But instead it struck this dragon; the sound of rushing fire filled the arena. And the dragon edifice transformed. The dragons head turned east, and as the flames rippled from the arrow tip and engulfed the figure; the blue turned red, and the true sign of Draconis' power was realized.

Chapter Five
The Inheritance Awards Ceremony

The Blue Dragon of Inheritance had turned Red upon the wall; as the crowd gazed in awe and fear. The Draconis banged their drums again. Randomic moved his way back behind the crowd, the army's parting, allowing him to pass. Sergeant Major Jefferson and Morzan escorted him out the back door; the soldiers soon followed.
The crowd turned to Michelangelo, who looked back to the dragon. "We'll need to be repainting that." he said aloud. The crowd answered, with boisterous applause and approval. "Anyways, let us begin the festivities anew, Yoli, if you please."
Michelangelo stepped aside, as Yoli took the podium. Applause growing greater still.
“Yes, thank you, Oh Honorable Lord." Yoli said, putting her paws upon the desk to read the papers. (Michelangelo off in the distance brought his palm to his forehead and swept it down across his face in disbelief.)
"Now, Here are the final results for the Nominee for the Nicest Member! But before I announce the nominees, I hand out my thanks to all of you who voted and or nominated; and I also wish to hand out a special, special thanks, to Ajihad." (Ajihad rose up in the center of the crowd, applause going about him. He cupped his hands around his mouth and called to Yoli "You go girl!")
Yoli blushed, and continued. "Without him we could have never put together this affair. And also a special thanks to Sethirus, who could be here on account of a bad case of spyware." The crowds went 'awe'. “But it's taken many long hours, and many orders of Tyrant's Softies..."
(Tyrant rose up in the crowd, applause now about his girlish form; he brought his hands to his mouth almost to say "OH MY GOD, I WON!!")
...for us to get this affair to where it is now. Thank you all." Wild applause rang throughout the stadium, as it never had before.
"Now, the nominees for Favorite Newbie are... The Chronicler."
A man stood up in the crowd, under his left arm was a humungous red book; and in his right was a long feathery quill.
Yoli then, froze for a moment.
"Hmmm. This is an iffy setback." she leaned over the podium towards a conveniently and previously unnoticed microphone. "It appears, The Chronicler, is the only nominee."
People looked around chattering as to what may have happened, but people over time got besides this, and began to clap.
"So, the winner is, The Chronicler... By default."
The Chronicler smiled, dropped his red book and quill, and made for the stage. A conveniently placed woman with white hair and robe sauntered over to him, holding in her hand a little plaque, with a blue dragon.
"Oh my gosh! Here's your prize!"
"Um, thanks?"
"Oh my gosh! Aren't I pretty?"
She looked into the crowd, twitching.
("Who's that?" Daociro asked Sverdar. Sverdar shrugged, while applauding. "I think that's Euphoria.")
The awards continued on. Soragon won best graphics artist, Bosco (who was armed in a green glowing suit) won most rebellious member...
"Most random... Onion!" Yoli called. (A moon walking banana received the price, when he did he said in a deep slow voice, "Oh yeah!")
"Most Photogenic... Euphoria!" (The woman who had previously been handing out the prizes brought it to her chest, screaming and jumping up and down in the air.)
"Most mature... Carnoc." (A red haired man rose within the stands in a black tuxedo and a pair of glasses. He ambled over to the stage calmly, and received the prize from the still ecstatic Euphoria. He took her hand and kissed it like a gentlemen.... And then he seized his prize rose it up in the air yelling. "I'm number one! Oh snap! Beat that!!! OWNAGE!!!")
The prizes continued on and on, and after hours of announcements, and Daociro fidgeting in his chair. It came time for intermission.
"And now, we'll take a ten minute break, while we prepare to announce the greatest members of Inheritance."
The crowds parted; as Daociro sat in his chair looking towards the sky. There was a cloud drifting up there, he could see it. But it crackled with thunder, and a long cold shiver went down his spine.
Something was wrong.

Chapter Six
Consequently

Sverdar returned from the consessions stands minutes later, as did a few others. Yet the numbers whom left for intermission seemed far less now when they re-entered. In his right glove was a nice fresh batch of waffles, which Garfield had so generously sold at her stand.
Sverdar turned to Daociro, "Hey Daoc, you won't believe what's going on outside!"
"What's going on?" Daociro asked.
"While those Draconis guys were getting ready for another demonstration to announce the end of this whole shindig, there's this massive protest against them, it’s incredible. There's food being thrown and everything."
"Who started it? Does anyone know?"
"No one knows." Sverdar said. "But I think it's all Eragon Shur'turgal's doing. He hates them; he's their most outspoken opponent."
"How come?" Daociro asked.
“No one knows, the origin of his hatred is as unknown as the origin of his hatred."
Daociro nodded, and looked back towards the stage. For the intermission was over, and the auditorium was half full.
Yoli attended the podium, "And now that the intermission is finished, let us announce the most Star Glistening, all time favorite, King and Queen of Inheritance!"
No one seemed to pay attention, eyes shifted around the room. A nervous hold filled the room.
None knew of the horror about to be unleashed just outside the door.
Eragon Shur’tugal picked up a pile of waffles, and hurtled them at Sergeant Major Jefferson's feet. He looked down, and dismissively kicked the tossed food aside.
"Go back to the Forum Archives, you evil traitors you!" Shur'tagal called bitterly.
Bosco stood amongst their masses, a bitter battle waged inside of him. Rather two... One was either he picked up the waffles and tossed them, or he sat down and ate them because of their fluffy goodness.
But another one, a far more sinister one, waged on. He turned to Corsair, who did not seem to be having the same problems with the same dilemma.
He looked over to the Draconis, and made his decision. He flew back his red hood, and revealed five skullish heads. All but one turned back, and hissed at the crowds. He ran across the lines, and Bosco soon followed, amongst others.
Bosco turned around and fired his green plasma rifle. A shot that would change the world. For soon the distance between the two crowds vanished; for the Draconis had charged.
Yoli continued to talk, unaware of anything. "These two people..."
Shur'tugal looked on his horror, he twisted around and strode up the steep steps back to Announcement Hall.
"...have shown characteristics..."
A long black lance scurried Garfield's right yellow butterfly wing. She fell to the ground, twitching.
"...that are most favorable..."
In the Hall, Daociro looked behind Yoli, and observed the red dragon.
Alagaesia ran as fast as her two little leathery feet could carry her; the anorexic snowman body of Hresvelgr hurtling over her head, yelling "By Woden! They got me!" before landing on the steps in a pile of slush.
"...and desirable..."
Daociro gazed into its eyes, and noticed something foul.
Islanzadi reached the tops of the steps, and turned back. She reached out with her long scythe and brought it to the heart of an incoming Draconis. She raised the blade and removed his soul from his body; the body fell to the ground, limp and unscathed.
"...amongst all citizenry..."
The eyes were inking black, and growing darker still, dark than any night.
Woil Ono, who had joined the enemy ranks, ran towards the stairs; the dragon edifice emerging from his back, breathing acidic sludge from its flaccid mouth.
"...and non-citizenry..."
The ink was running, like blood.
Amantila turned around, a massive red lion connected to a hex leapt towards her. She screamed "Raícima cím laeyento arusse évenar, an l'adsala cema cím Laemarai!" and she transpired through the being. The lion landed, turned around and screamed. "Accursed traitor Wiccan!"
"...of Inheritance."
A little fire erupted into those black eyes.

Suddenly, Shur'tugal burst through the rear entrance. The opening of the doors was heard throughout the vastness.
Yoli looked up.
Sverdar and Daociro looked back.
Eyes inserted a quarter into a soda-vending machine.
Shur'tugal screamed. "RUN!!! THE DRACONIS ARE ATTA-"
Before he could finish, he was engulfed in fire; his charred ashes fell to the floor. He lay there moaning, as a great black dragon placed its claw upon his body. Randomic slayer rode on his back; his alabaster hair blowing in the heat, perhaps the heat of the flames. But more less the heat of his hatred.

Chapter Seven
Loss

As Randomic looked down disdainfully at the crowds beneath him; and with a hate unlike any other. The windows beyond the higher balcony broke apart in shards; Draconians leapt in on ropes and slings, Sergeant Major Jefferson fired his M-16 Assault Rifle, the rattling of ammunition heard in all corners of the auditorium.
Crowds rose up instantly, screaming as they went. As Daociro made his way towards the aisles, he was knocked over. As he lay down upon the floor foot after foot pounded on him, it was not long though until a hand reached out to him.
"Daoc!"
Daociro reached; and as he was pulled up he realized it was Eyes pulling him up with his right hand; his left hand preoccupied with a can of Diet Pepsi.
"What did I miss?" Eyes asked, unusually calm.
Just on the other side of the room the Black Dragon of Randomic lifted a helpless newbie; its venomous rows of teeth sank into his screaming flesh and tossed him about.
"Oh." Eyes said conclusively.
"Death to all enemies of Draconis!" Randomic declared into the horrible, bloodied air. He rose up his black lance and brought it down to the floor; as it landed fire rippled around him, his dragon, and the helpless victim within its clutches. Seats and other refinements about him crumpled into ash; only one thing stood untouched.
"Let him go." said a great leopard, the flames rippling around her.
"Who is this here?" said Randomic smiling dementedly. The dragon turned to her.
Yoli snarled; "You heard me, release him."
"Heh-heh-heh-Ha-ha-HA-HA!" Randomic laughed; each burst greater and more sinister than the last. Finally he stopped, for Yoli had leapt upon him.
The man in the dragon's mouth was tossed aside; he lay in a pool of his own blood and the Dragon's spit, moaning.
The Dragon looked fearfully at his master being maimed, and with a Dragon's whimper; he ran off out of the building over the carnage.
Even with that simple leap, Randomic's arms were slowly being crushed, already bruised and bleeding. Randomic gazed into Yoli's large blue eyes; his fire gazed into her water.
Randomic tried reaching for the spear besides him; Yoli saw this, and with a roaring snarl brought her right paw to his hand, and crushed it. Randomic screamed in pain.
"You reign is finished." Yoli snarled. "As if it ever started." Yoli then lifted her head, as though to look down upon him with the same disdain he viewed his victims with. "You're going nowhere."
But it was with these words; that even in his pain, with bruised arms, crushed hands, and with a ferocious beast in no rush to kill him on the spot. He laughed.
"Ah, ha-ha. But you, you cannot go anywhere either. For if you do... Then I go." Randomic smiled even more now. "And unlike you, ha-ha, I have servants, servants loyal enough to die for me."
"As do I." Yoli stated almost conclusively. But Randomic disagreed to that conclusion.
"Then where are they?" Randomic paused for a dramatic effect. "They've fled. My legions on the other hand." Randomic's perverted smile grew to even greater lengths then it had before.
Suddenly Yoli's arms were seized; as men held her down. She roared with rage, he arms flailing to try and get at these restraints. But in doing so, Randomic escaped her clutches.
"Size her! Size her! Bind her ankles!" Randomic ordered furiously.
Yoli's legs were wrapped with iron chains, but before they were fully wrapped a first time, she let out a fearsome kick; in doing so, a Draconian was flung back clear to the other side of the room. Her legs were seized again, and she did not have the liberty of kicking this time: Morzan had clubbed her on the head; she was down for the count.
Draconians left and right brought the loose ends of the chains to the returned Dragon's saddle. Randomic limped over to its side.
"Are you well my lord?" Morzan inquired urgently.
"What do you think?!" Randomic spat. "Assist me to my mount!"
Morzan and Sergeant brought their arms under Randomic’s; they heaved him aloft, onto the dragon's saddle. Randomic once placed there, sat hunched over for an uncomfortably long time. At first glance he may have been looking into the full moon outside, coming strong through the doorway. But he was gazing instead, at a blank spot on the floor, where Eragon Shur'tugal had been only moments before.
Finally, he stopped thinking of him, attended the reigns with his one good hand, and lumbered the dragon forth. As it went, Yoli's blond leopard hair dragged across the red rug. She was fast asleep, unknowing of where destiny would carry her.
It was minutes later, too late for Yoli's sake, when the crowds re-entered the room and attended the wounded. They looked around; bewildered, horror-struck, angry, bitter, weeping, and most of all, lost. For the sheer size of what had happened couldn't be taken all at once; like a chocolate cake, should an analogy be used. But in the smallest understandable bite, everything rounded up to one thing.

Chapter Eight
Ashes to Ashes and Dust to Dust

The Plains of the Current Issues Forum was a desolate and unfriendly place; the skies were always red and yet the sun never shown, nor did the moon. There in the distance stood the edifice of George Bush flailing his arms around wildly, and over there, Mr. Phelps of the Westboro Baptist Church, his horns rose towards the sky, his red beady eyes shifting left and right in a body of solid cold stone.
Here on this plain, there was an old man, rather the skeleton of a man. He often scouted around these strange and bizarre lands, always carrying with him a tattered confederate flag. To others he had no name, for no one else knew him. But he preferred to call himself Mr. Skelly Bones.
One day he was walking across the red earth; muttering to himself an old southern tune, the Flag of Succession; at first sound it may've been the Star Bangled Banner, but these stars did not shine.

Oh, say can't you see by the dawn's early light
What you yesterday held to be vaunting and dreaming,
The Northern men routed, Abe Lincoln in flight,
And the palmetto flag o'er the Capitol streaming?
The pumpkins for fare,
The foul fetid air,
Gave proof through the night that the Yankees were there;
Now the flag of secession in triumph cloth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

'Midst the dust that is raised by the fugitives' fees,
His acts of coercion now bitterly rueing,
See the Rail Splitter running in panting retreat,
And gallant Virginia in laughter pursuing;
Now he catches a beam
Of the bayonet's fierce gleam,
And he hurries away with a jump and a scream;
And the flag of secession in triumph doth wave
O'er the land of the free and the home of the brave.

But where is the despot, who came to our soil,
In the garb of the soldier - his minions disguising,
And showed them our fields and our homes as their spoil,
We only can say that his speed is surprising;
O'er the fences he made
When that was his trade.
He has leapt in his fears from our vision to fade;
And the flag of secession in triumph cloth wave
O'er the land of the freed and the home of the brave.

Oh, such is the welcome the Southron bestows
On the minions who strive to make slaves of a nation,
We've a hand for our friends but the sword for our foes,
And the charge of our soldiers in fierce exultation;
Then again to the fight,
And God for the right,
And the Northmen shall shrink from our warriors' might,
And the flag of secession in triumph shall wave
O'er the land of the freed and the home of the brave.

As if almost on cue when he finished mumbling the last word brave there was a great flash and wind. Skelly Bones fell over on his pelvic bone and coccyx. He looked up through his eye-sockets and saw a strange sight. Three dragons, three riders; one with white hair and no shirt, one with a lazy eye, and another with a long red sword. And behind them all there was a great big yellow leopard who seemed at first to be standing upright.
"Now what in the name of Robert E. Lee are y'all doin here on M' Property!" hollered Skelly Bones.
"Do not speak so before the Lord of Inheritance." said the one with the red sword.
"Ew, lordy. The only Lord I worship is the Good Lord, Jesus Christ. Mmmm-hmmm." Skelly nodded.
"I thought he was the son of god?" the one with the lazy eye asked.
"Hush!" ordered the white haired rider, and it was harked too well. "There is a poison in the air, every word we speak insights quarrel and brawl."
"That be cus'f my outhouse out back." Skelly said.
"Or is it?" the man with the sword said.
"Silence I said!" the white haired man demanded again.
"What is silence?" questioned the lazy-eyed man.
"Silence as in the Invisible Children of Darfur?" the swordsman asked.
The white haired man raised his hand and backhanded both Sergeant and Morzan across the face in a single stroke. And then returned to present mattered amidst the moaning of his two agents.
"Good sir." the white haired man said with false courtesies. "Is the word true that there is a fortress here, in this desert?"
"Y'all mean in the 'Are Fortresses really useful anymore' region? Yepp'in, it all true."
"I thank you for the assistance." they all began to move off; but before they moved much Skelly noticed something.
"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Sir I do declare your dragging a cat behind this hea' caroovan!"
"I am aware of it sir." the white-haired man said with that same unnecessary fake courtesy. "Thank you, and farewell."
The man's dragon went on, the two other dragons going close behind. The leopard's body dragged behind them ever so slowly and that was followed by a mass of men all armed and robed in black.
"Now what in the good lord's name are eating those guys?"

Chapter Nine
The Plan

The morning that followed the Draconis attack was silent and filled with shock. Across the Inheritance News Broadcast, news of the attacks was spread far and wide. Word even reached as far as beyond Inheritance, towards other Stellar Boards amidst the stars.
At Tyrant's Smoothie shop, business began slowly; but at first seemed normal. Tyrant washed the counters, having donned upon himself a new skin, in light of the new times. Instead of the little girl, he became a young man; with black spiky hair, a black goatee, and a leather suit. His olive skin beaded with sweat in the early dawn heat.
Suddenly a figure appeared at his shop. As Tyrant looked up he gazed before the robes and eyes of a god.
"My lord, Michelangelo." Tyrant bowed.
"No, no." Michelangelo pardoned him. "No need for such greetings and talk; for there is a great urgency now and I require your aid."
"What is it?" Tyrant whispered.
"You are aware of the times are you not?" Michelangelo said, pointing to a conveniently placed television. Matt the Moderator bringing a coffee cup to his mouth, addressing the situation at hand. The ticker "Draconis attacks Inheritance Awards, hundreds killed, injured, and missing; According to unnamed sources." passing slowly across the bottom of the screen.
"Yes, yes I am." Tyrant answered.
"And you also are aware of what this all means don't you?"
"I... don't, sir."
Michelangelo paused, changing the subject for a brief moment.
"Are you well, Tyrant?"
"Yes."
"You don't sound it, there's no lying to me."
"Then no. I am not well. I lost my best man yesterday, Stryker was struck down by Sergeant to my knowing." he then paused. "I would want nothing more than revenge."
"And revenge you shall have, Tyrant."
He looked at Michelangelo perplexedly. "I beg your pardon, sir?"
"I said, you shall have vengeance." Michelangelo paused, turning around to gaze towards the rising sun.
"Before the sun rises over our heads; we will all be at war."
"You are declaring it?"
"Not quite yet; we lack the means of doing so, and without Yoli and half our people we are at a loss." Michelangelo turned to him. "And that is exactly the reason why I have come to you."
"What is it that you ask of me?"
Michelangelo handed him a slip of paper.
Tyrant looked at it, flipping it over to gaze at both sides. "What exactly is this?"
"You shall see; go indoors, to a place no men dare follow you, and look at it then. I believe you shall be quite surprised." Michelangelo winked at him, and walked off towards the sea.
Tyrant looked down at the paper; it was coarse and did not seem of any importance. A breeze blew past, causing the paper to flutter in his grips. Suddenly though, he felt as though someone had knocked him in the gut. Sweat beaded down his face more than ever; clinging onto the counter, he made for the bathrooms.
The Bathroom's to Tyrant's Shop left much to be desired; the linoleum floors were stained and cracked; as were the walls. The mirrors were cracked; and every few minute’s a quarter sized roach could be seen skittering across the floor. The stalls on the other hand were pearly white, gleaming like the full moon in night.
As Tyrant sat in the stall many minutes later; he gazed over to the paper-towel rack, and to his dismay, found only a metal bar. As he gazed at it frustratingly, he needed to find another solution to the problem. And then with revelation, he remembered the paper he had been holding in his hands the entire time.
As he brought it forward, it caught his full attention in a ray of sunlight coming through the window. The paper was no longer the same, there were brown lines going every which way.
At first glimpse they showed nothing, but as he realized that there were boxed in this picture; and patterns, and curves, and circles, triangles, polygons. He realized this was no mere paper.
It was a plan.

Chapter Ten
Nicholas

One week after Michelangelo visited Tyrant that blazing morning; times had changed beyond measurement in addition to the seven days.
Indeed, Michelangelo had declared war; and no sooner had this happened that there was a battle held in the Role-playing region. 'There were Samurai against Jedi!' Sverdar explained to Daociro upon his return. 'Feudal Knights against Roman Legions! Robots against Dragons! It was incredible; you should've been there!' Since Sverdar was still talking to him; Daociro took it that their side had won.
But their were casualties to be mentioned as well; Excelsior's cat had been slain by Morzan, having sacrificed itself to keep its master alive. Excelsior in her grief fled the field, vowing never again to fight upon the fields of war. And there was the news of Sethirus, who dwindled further day by day due to a bad case of the Trojan Virus, morals wavered, but did not wane.
Most important of all these events however; was the discovery of the Draconis' base in the 'Are Fortresses really useful anymore' region. New recruits flooded in now, as opposed to trickling, as hopes of ending the war quickly grew higher then ever. Daociro was one of them.
He, along with his company of five others all walked down a long wooden hallway towards the great warehouse, upon which they were assigned to the ship Bombardier. Their names and descriptions were as followed: Eyes; Camthalion, a long lanky man with mousy hair; Celephon, a woman who admonished herself with dragon skin clothes; Amantila, a fair woman with glossy eyes and elfin ears; and Hresvelgr, the anorexic Odinist snowman, small enough to fit in Daociro's pocket; and did.
"WOOOAAHHH!!!" Hresvelgr exclaimed, his head shaking violently from left to right, sticking out of Daociro's pocket. "Lemme out! Lemme out! Lemme out! By Fenrir's teeth I command you!"
Celephon looked down the hallway; a ray of bright light caressed the floor there. "What do you think this ship looks like?"
"I predict it is something mighty and fearsome." Amantila said. "Something to carry us to nothing but war."
"By Mimir's Well!" Hresvelgr exclaimed. "You are no prophetess! We ARE going to war! And by the Vanir God of False Teeth..."
A man walking by stopped and gazed at Hresvelgr, shrugged his shoulders, and moved on.
"...I advise that you keep such nonsense to yourself!"
"Can't you all be quiet?"
"God can't you both just quit talking!"
Eyes and Camthalion stared for a moment at one another.
"Wow that was weird." Camthalion said. "We actually agreed on something."
"I know, lets never speak of it again." Eyes concluded.
Celephon laughed herself senseless.
Suddenly they passed through the end of the tunnel. The light shown around them, for one astonishing second they swore they had all been blinded. But when the light lessened, they beheld an astonishing sight.
Three great vessels, all in a row, ships of the stars. Bound to soar through the air as opposed to sail through the water. Hresvelgr was astonished without end.
"BY THOR'S HAMMER! BY TYR'S LOST HAND! BY VALHALLA'S MIGHT!"
Eye's reached over to Daociro's pocket.
"What are you doing?" Daociro asked.
Eye's reaching over plucked off Hresvelgr's head, and threw it at the nearest ship. It exploded into a pool of slush; the Nordic talk ended abruptly. But Celephon's laughter had only just begun, when.
"Hey!" commanded a monotonous voice in the distance. "Don't do that! These ships are under work."
They all looked around; and saw a fray of sparks towards the other end of the ship. As they approached the sparks; Daociro realized what a strange sight they were really looking at.
There was a man, hunched down in what seemed to be a massive bronze tub, shaped like a bowl. He had 4 pairs of extra thick goggles on simultaneously. And wore a pair of suspenders that seemed to keep the metal bowl upright. At his waste was a keyboard, and with his hands he typed feverishly, with the assistance of not one; but two pairs of mechanical hands.
The man looked up; his eyes over-enlarged, observing the ship's every detail with a grin on his face.
"Excuse me sir?" Daociro asked.
The man turned around; his eyes glaring at them; the size of grapefruits.
"Hello Professor Trelawney." Eyes said.
"That's Nicholas to you. I- um."
Camthalion kneeled down before him.
"My lord I beseech you, excuse the moronity of my kindred, they mean you no ill will."
"Oh come off it, Cam." said Celephon, smirking.
"And come off him, your creeping us out." Eyes said.
"Hypocrite." said Daociro.
As Camthalion got grips of her and rose to her feet; one of Nicholas' robotic hands brushed its scuffed mechanical shoes.
"That's a pretty cool suit you have there." Celephon complimented tears of laughter still fresh in her eyes.
"Oh, thank you." Nicholas said complacently. "It's nothing really. I just threw it together."
"Damn straight." Eyes said.
Nicholas ignored his comment. And Celephon's laughter.
"Excuse me sir?" Daociro asked.
Nicholas turned to him with his enormous amplified eyes, Daoc made a nervous "Guh!" sound as he saw them.
"Oh, sorry."
One by one the metal goggles lifted up, each time one lifted Nicholas' eyes grew smaller and smaller. Until to Daociro's further dismay he realized Nicholas had no eyes.
"How can I help you?" Nicholas asked.
"I- uh- um... I.... I.... Eh...”
"He will ask you as to where we can find the Bombardier." Amantila said.
"Th-there she goes at it again!" Hresvelgr exclaimed, pointing his stubby hands at Amantila, his head having miraculously grown back to regular size without anyone’s attention.
"Who's he?" Nicholas asked briefly.
"Long story, not worth telling." Eyes said.
"Ah" Nicholas said, "But as to your first question; you won't have to look very far. It's right here."
Nicholas slapped his hand against the side of the ship; suddenly there was the buzzing, monotonous warning of "Hey! Don't do that! These ships are under work." they all flinched.
"Oops, sorry, security system's still on." Nicholas reached for his pocket in the metal overalls and pulled out a little keychain; he pressed a button, and the ship made the sound of a car alarm being deactivated. "Whop, whop!"
"That's better, now; I think it's about time you six got on board. I've got to go contact Tyrant; now I all hope to see you again, Misters and Missies?"
"Daoc." "Eyes." each of them said their name in random order.
"Ah, well I am all sure you know who I am." Nicholas pulled down one level of goggles to reveal normal sized eyes, simply to wink at them. "Safe travels to all of you; bring glory back to the forums!"
"We will your eminence."
Nicholas rolled his eyes through the goggles, and pressed another button on the keychain. There were the sound of hydraulics; as an entire portion of the ships side drew down like a drawbridge. As it landed with an echoing thud, they looked up towards the unseen innards of the ship, and ascended into it. As they did, Amantila made one last prediction.
"We all go in and never again shall we see our homes the same."

Chapter Eleven
The Armada Readies Itself

The great lofty chandelier in the Bombardier’s main forum shimmered its clear glass above the white and aquamarine floor. Daociro could hardly believe such a vessel was designed for the skies of battle rather than to transport people across a once beautiful world.
They all gazed in awe at the sheer size of it all; suddenly, someone called out Daociro's name.
"Daoc!"
He turned around, and up there on a balcony, was Soragon.
"Soragon!" Daociro called "What are you doing up there?"
"Not much, I am just observing my correspondents work. It's pretty impressive isn't it.”?
"That is it Soragon, that it is."
"Hey! How about I give you all a tour?"
"That would be lovely!" exclaimed Camthalion.
Celephon laughed, for some really bizarre reason.
Daociro, Camthalion, and Celephon went up the stairs towards Soragon; Eyes stayed down in the main atrium to make an observance of things on his own, Amantila waited patiently down at the atrium, and Hresvelgr although he didn't want to go, had no say in the matter since he still fit comfortably in Daoc's pocket; he fancied a nap in such times of suppression.
Soragon lead them all to the elevator, as they stood inside Soragon insisted they take a seat. When Daociro said they were fine standing, Soragon cautiously pressed the "^" Button, for the top deck. And quickly sat him down upon the floor. No sooner had he did, was there a terrifying lurch and everyone who was standing collapsed down upon the elevator floor. Hresvelgr's head squished hard upon the floor.
"OW! My brain!"
Daociro fell on his side next, Celephon slipped backwards, and Camthalion fell every which way.
"God- agh! That hurt." Daoc groaned.
"I told you so, but don't fret, we're already there."
Indeed, the doors had been opened; and the outside sun now glared red and bright into their eyes, because in fact they were outside.
They all rose, and followed Soragon as he cast his right arm out over the railing to show them something. Hresvelgr's head was positively flat as a pancake, with the concave of Daociro's bottom carved in it.
"Look." Soragon said. As they looked out, there was nothing to be seen except more docks and more ports. But suddenly, there was a great rumbling sound, as a vessel much like a Star Destroyer, roared up into the sky. They all stepped back as this ship rose up into the sky, drifting into the clouds above.
"What on earth is that?" Camthalion asked over the roar of engines.
“That my friend is a Blademaster Class Destroyer; that's the biggest one we'll see today, that's his own personal ship. And if you look down there, that big wheel shaped ship is a Shade Class Cruiser, the rotation of that exterior wheel is what gives it its means of propulsion. And see those ships blasting off into that portal there?"
"Yeah." Camthalion said.
Soragon smiled, "That’s my ship; the Soragon Class Fighter." The ship looked like an X-Wing, Tie Fighter crossbreed in Daociro's opinion.
"There's a Superman Class Bomber." A ship much like Soragon's except with a long broad nose, and twice its size, hovered above the dock. It revved up, and suddenly burst off into a green portal. A grey mist erupted briefly, and when it cleared the ship was gone.
"Whoa! Where'd the ship go?" Hresvelgr exclaimed from the squished side of his mouth.
"Only the pilot knows; probably to the Current Issues Sector though. That's where we're going; we can't use the portals though, the Tyrant Class Battleship is far too large." Soragon pointed behind them; as they turned, in the sunlight gleamed the tops of two other Tyrant-Class Battleships, like their own. They rose like the tops of Submarines out of the water, or in this case, from the warehouse roof.
"There's a Sapphire Class Nurse ship." A large metal Twinkie rose from the docking bay and towards the sky in the distance. "But there's much more to see here, come on I'll show you."
They all followed Soragon, Daociro looked back; looking towards the ships soaring high, and a great wild thrill went through him. How could anyone possibly outmatch them?
"Come on, come on!" Hresvelgr insisted. "Let's keep this gravy-train rolling." Daociro woke up from this state of awe, and went with the others.
Chapter Twelve
Onboard the Home One Flagship
The Home One Flagship soared through the black void between the forums; a place where the stars shine bright amidst a black mantle. Sergeant Major Jefferson, as commanded by Randomic, was told to scout the outer reaches of the Current Issues atmosphere to ensure no surprise attack was to come; on account of the declaration of war, and the discovery of their base there.
Randomic's Dragon, black like the sky around it; soared through space escorted by two Stryker Ships. They soared through the void in silence, for no air dwelled there, and by what cruel magic Randomic managed to survive here, none can tell.
The dragon soared into the Home One's Fuselage, as it entered; the dragon coughed as it adjusted to the sensation of breathing again. Randomic had no such trouble, he dismounted the beast; and escorted by his two vanguards from the ships, was assisted towards the captain's deck.
Sergeant Major Jefferson sat before the controls; he talked to a fellow Draconis, robed in black.
"Yes, I'll take a Mocha Latte."
"Make that two, please." said a soldier to Jefferson's left.
"I'll have a Cappuccino." an officer said.
"Fresh out." said the man taking the orders.
"Damnit!"
"Well just take the two lattes, thank you." Sergeant dismissed the man.

"Jefferson!" Randomic commanded.
"Yes sir?"
"What are you doing?"
"I'm commanding the ship, like you told me to."
"Commanding the ship, y-"
"Here are your latte's sirs." said the man, returning from the kitchen.
"You call this commanding a ship!" bellowed Randomic, seizing the latte. "I'LL BE HAVING NONE OF THIS!" He tossed the latte, and it landed square in a female officer’s face. She moaned like a cat in the alleyway.
"Sorry August!" Sergeant called.
"its cool." she said, her feline eyes flinching from the scalding heat of the drink. She pounced off to the emergency ward.
Randomic calmed down, "Status report?"
"Hmm, oh. I come to report the emergence of a new and vital ally to our cause. Stryker, come forth."
The Vanguard to Sergeant's left stepped forward, and removed his helmet. Revealing spiked blond hair and a pulchritudinous face. The man kneeled.
"I pledge myself, and my allegiance, to Draconis. And it's most gracious lord."
Randomic presented his hand, and Stryker kissed it, a little too well.
"Peace Stryker, that's enough." Randomic said, shaking the spit off his hand. "I am aware of your loyalties, and of your resources, you may go now."
"Very good my lord." Stryker rose, and returned to his post at the Coffee Shop.
"And we have reported no ships going by since we departed... Five- days- ago."
"Don't be impatient Sergeant, they will come."
"But do you honestly suspect this is all very necessary? To have our best ship out here on patrol?"
"I am aware of my actions Sergeant! Do not deny them!" for once, Randomic sounded frightened.
"How so?" Sergeant tried to ask as benignly as possible; Randomic did not take it so.
You have breathed the fumes of the Current Issues for far too long." he spat. He almost went to strike Sergeant, but something stopped him. He closed his eyes and breathed, as though thinking something. Soon afterwards, he opened them, and bade Sergeant farewell.
As he made to his dragon; Sergeant commanded, "Prepare an honorary gun salute!"
"Right away, sir."
Randomic standing beside his dragon; rubbed its helm with unusual affection, stroking its scales back.
"Are you ready to depart, my lord?"
"Hmm? Oh yes. I am ready."
He mounted the black dragon; and went off into the eternal night pursued by his two ships. As he left, the order was given for the honorary laser cannon salute. Red light went, and speckled off into the distance.
Back on Inheritance, parallel rows of meteor showers could be seen. All evenly spaced, all long and quick moving.
They hailed it as a beautiful and rare event; little knowing of how much more often such things were about to occur.

Chapter Thirteen
Sketches of Pain

Back on the warehouse floor; hordes of new soldiers began to crowd onto the Tyrant Class Battleships. People tossed their excess luggage into the cargo bay; so much so that the people manning them couldn't keep up, a large pile soon emerged on top of one of the men.
Nicholas soon joined the crowds, as he prepared to make his way towards the captain’s deck. But just as he was about to board the ship, there was a great commotion behind him.
"Stop him!"
Many heads turned.
"Stop him! Grab that boy!"
There was much confusion, as hands reached out and a boy with a scruffy, dirty face was heaved up about their heads.
Gotcha Sketches!" said Eka ai fricai, a thick set man with a shaved head. "Nick! Come here! Check this guy out, trying to be a stow-away."
Nicholas worked his heavy suit through the crowd; the people moved aside. And Nicholas brought himself towards Sketches.
The little boy twitched around, tears welling in his eyes. "Lemme go! I just want to help is all?"
Nicholas brought more metal goggles towards his eyes to amplify his view. As his watermelon sized eyes gazed at the boy queerly, Sketches continued to plead. "Please, please, please..." he continued on, unaware that Nicholas had made his discussion at first glance. He just was building up a dramatic pause.
"If he wants to be a stow-away, let him be a stow-away. Send him to the Luggage bay, keep him there."
Nicholas then said. "For his own safety, treat him well." but no one heard it; there was too much commotion and excitement at the young boys doom to hear. Sketches were cast off into the luggage bay, a seething heat building up in his little heart.

"Bosco."
"Yeah Corsair?"
"Where are you?"
"I don't know, it’s too dark."
"Then turn the lights on."
"Where the hell are they?"
"How am I supposed to know?"
"Exactly."
"What?"
"Never mind."
A switch was flipped, and Bosco and Corsair stood upon a long metal doorway in the Home One Flagship.
"How'd the lights get turned off?"
"It's this faulty wiring, that’s what turned it off."
"That's funny; I thought it was divine intervention."
"Ha-ha-ha Corsair."
"I'm serious."
"Whatever."
"Hey!"
The two of them turned around, and saw Stryker at the other end of the hall.
"What are you doing down here?" he asked.
"Not much" Bosco said "We're just on our way to get a flight- I- I- mean a bite, yes, a bite."
"And what are YOU doing here?" asked Corsair.
"What you should be doing, staying out of trouble and getting what needs to be done."
"Now you know that's not our style."
"I know, and here's my thought on that."
There was another flip of a switch, and the lights went out once again. Stryker walked away.
"Little does he know, we know where the switch is?"
"True that is Bosco, true that is."
Bosco leaned over and flipped the switch; but the lights failed to turn on.
"What the?"
He flipped the switches again and again, and nothing happened.
"God- damns it!"
"Oh and by the way you two." Stryker called. "This isn't the way to the Hangar Bay."
"Oh, really." Corsair said defiantly.
"Yeah; you’re really two inches above the Septic Tanks."
"I told you I didn't need to take a bath."
"I'd be careful of roaches; later."
"Wait, WAIT! NO!"
There was a weird crunching sound.
"Was that you by my leg Bosco?"
"No."
"Oh, bloody hell."

Chapter Fourteen
Firefox

So it was, not to much later that the Tyrant Class Battleships raised into the skies; their great keels towards the stars. The warehouse broke aside, as these titans of the skies made their way towards the plains of war.
Nicholas headed the lead battleship, his mechanical arms clenching onto the archaic ship's rudder-wheel. Down in the cargo-bay, Sketches gazed towards a porthole to the outside sun; misunderstanding, fear, and spite festering within him.
Soragon had concluded their tour, Daociro and the others went towards the uppermost decks to gaze down below at ever shrinking Inheritance.
The giant warehouse was little more than a speck on the earth now; the sun sank brilliantly towards the west. The oceans beneath them showed golden and vibrant.
"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Amantila said breathlessly; she turned to Daociro.
"Yes, it is, isn't it?"
The ship soared through a white cloud, as it went through the world washed away; and as they rose it came back to them brighter than ever. Wet film caressed over Daociro's face.
Eyes meanwhile, despite all the beauty going passed them, was inside at the cafe. He stood at a Pepsi Vending Machine; he gave it a hard kick.
"Come on! Give me my damn soda!"
"What going on?" Hresvelgr asked complacently.
Eyes turned to him, a menacing gleam flared in his eyes.
He seized Hresvelgr by the throat. The anorexic snowman kicked violently.
"Gotcha!" Eyes tossed him inside the vending machine.
"Woooahhh! What was that for?" Hresvelgr's face was squished against the viewing glass; his eyes brought out to either side of his face.
"I need a soda."
"Why didn't you just ask?" Hresvelgr's groaned. "You didn't need to throw me in here?"
"Yes I did."
"You did?"
"Nope, holler for me in a few minutes, I need to go to the bathroom."
"Whut, Wait! STOP!" Hresvelgr shook violently inside the machine; so violently in fact, it groaned and creaked until it feels over with a banging crash. A pool of water seeped out from the bottom of the befallen machine.
Meanwhile; Amantila and Daociro still observed the world sinking away before them. The skies above grew darker; stars could be seen as the sun still set upon a world shutting its eyes. Suddenly, something caught Daociro's eyes.
"Whoa! Look at that!" Daociro said, pointing to a weird pattern in the sky he had never seen before.
"That's Vroengard, it may not look it, but that's actually many, many miles away. It's another system in fact, within the Inheritance Galaxy. Much farther than Current Issues and other Outer Rim Systems; it’s the outermost in fact, just past the Shur’tugal sys-"
"What the?"
Daociro was looking towards the heavens; the light of the sun grew weaker still, the sky growing black. But he saw a brilliant red and white streak, so massive, so gigantic, and so indescribably beautiful.
"Wow, I've heard about this before." Amantila breathed. The glass windows closing around them as they neared closer to the vacuum of cyberspace. "That's the Mozilla Firefox. Wow, it’s so beautiful in person, books don't even cover it..."
"...There's actually a bit of lore." she continued. "That concerned the Mozilla Firefox; its name I might add is given due to the fox-like nebula at its front. But nonetheless, do you want to hear it?"
"Certainly." Daociro nodded.
Amantila smiled, and then looked back towards the sun.
Oh vast cosmos, with your stars; twinkling and alight.
Little does she know of the peril, that awaits her?
Fire born from some wretched hate,
Ice borne towards some wretched love.
Iron chains, and blackest sight.
The prince shall be crowned; day shall mix with night.
A forest shall cover the world from the twilight, upon which no starlight shall linger.
And the fire that brought it life; shall bring upon it death.
The clock shall turn back; the waste and ruin shall wash away.
Death shall make way for life, all time will begin once more,
and the High King shall walk the earth again.
Amantila stopped; her eyes glinting into the sunlight, and then she turned back to Daociro.
Daociro was still, looking astonishingly at her; and then smiled, "Wow, that's a beautiful bit of lore there."
Amantila blushed and looked away from him. "I know, it is fascinating isn't it?"
They stood their silently for a long time, the silence was broken by Hresvelgr screaming "Eyes! You rapscallion! COME BACK HERE!" This was followed by Celephon bursting out laughing, and Camthalion groaning.
"I should see what’s going on." Daociro said.
"You do that." Amantila beamed. As Daociro left she gazed out into space; the window separating her from the null of the void. Inheritance was behind them, shimmering blue and gold. Sinking away into the shadow of night. What lay ahead of them, even she could not wholly tell?

Chapter Fifteen
Found
Within the 'Are Fortresses really useful anymore' region; rose a great castle, upon her lofty walls hung towers and ramparts; battlements and tiers that washed away in the sands. Whilst the sun rose on Inheritance; bright and shining. It sank hither, a dim star on the horizon.
Yoli gazed here, bound by chains atop this tower. Shrouded by a labyrinth upon which only its masons and lord knew by heart. A tear lulled down her tattered face, hair splint and frayed; nose bleeding, mouth dry.
The Lord approached her, his white hair flowing in the breeze.
Yoli looked up towards him, pain, sadness, and biding wroth in her lion-heart.
Randomic knelt beside her; Yoli's face bound by a muzzle, she could not speak.
"Poor, poor, little pussycat." Randomic mocked. "Poor little baby; so far away from home, away from all she wishes to have: All she ever had."
Yoli did not move at all; she gazed towards the stars, trying her hardest not to heed to what words he said.
"She wants nothing more then to be loved, then to be wanted."
Yoli still tried hard, she tried humming; but the muzzle prevented this, the words came stronger now.
"She was these things once, she was loved... So loved." Randomic's voice sank to a seductive hiss, and at times, a deep rumble.
"She would gaze towards the stars, from the comfort of her own home..."
Yoli could no longer ignore him.
"And now she looks upon those stars..."
Yoli's face began to turn.
"And she looks..."
A great tear went down her face.
"She knows..."
Her whiskers bent down.
"That her home is lost... Amongst the stars..."
Her eyes went red, she began to shut them.
"Lost amongst the infinite stars... And never shall she see them again."
A gleam caught Yoli's eye, and her eyes opened again.
"Such beautiful stars."
A wild glee flickered there; her lion heart silenced, rumbled with a roar. But when she tried to open her mouth; it was something else that roared.
Randomic's dragon stood erect atop the wall; its head pointing towards the sky, roaring with such panic and excitement that even he was astonished. And as he looked up, his heart sank; so deep into his very fiery core. And as she looked, her heart rose so high; upon the highest plateau. For the first time, in so long it seemed, there was a tear of joy upon her face.
Such beautiful stars.

Chapter Sixteen
Darksteel

The Current Issues Forum already loomed in the sights of the three Tyrant Class Battleships, having joined them now were eighteen Shade Class Cruisers; two Blademaster Destroyers, one being Blademaster's personal ship; Five Sapphire Nurse Class Ships; and not to mention the dozens of Superman Class Bombers, and Hundreds of Soragon Class Fighters. The Armada was ready for attack.
Shur'tugal approached Nicholas in the Captain's Quarters. He was more machine now than man, most of it having been destroyed by Randomic. Where his head was, there was now a grey dome with six glass marbles arranged in a honeycomb; his lower arms were brawny and thick with metal, little glove-like hands erupted from them. His legs were likewise, where his calves were there were now great brawny metal "tanks" to say the least; beneath these, (he bothered to lift his legs) would have been a great hole, for these were jetpacks. His whole body was coated with colors of gunmetal, and grey; not the most cheery of sights.
Nicholas turned to him. "Ah, how’s the new suit treating you Shur'tugal."
Shur'tugal was silent, "Shur'tugal died in the Announcement Hall." he said in a deep monotone. "My name is Dark-Steel."
Dun-dun-dun-Dum-dum-dum...dum...dum...dum
"Would you turn off that Darth Vader music!" Nicholas ordered to a snickering man behind him.
"But yes, I am doing well with all of this. Now I can finally have my vengeance."
"Peace Shur- I mean, Darksteel." He changed what he was saying when Darksteel began folding his arms menacingly.
"Who is this vengeance for?" Nicholas asked.
"Morzan." Darksteel answered.
"Wasn't it Randomic who tore apart your body though?"
"True; but his time will come. It is Morzan though who my true nemesis is."
"How so?" Nicholas continued to interrogate.
And so Shur'tugal began his long and very elaborate speech on how he had come to hate Morzan.
"Ah, I see." Nicholas said a few minutes earlier.
“Now you know." Darksteel said.
"But do you?" Nicholas said, looking over towards you.
Meanwhile, Alagaesia Hobbit looked at him dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?"
Later, down in the hangar bay of the Bombardier, those on-board were called there to ready their positions as they drew closer still to the Home One Flagship. Eyes having been put in charge of a squadron of Superman Class Bomber's, took great pride in donning upon himself a pirate's hat. Daociro was one of the many hundreds of Soragon Class Fighter Pilots, along with Celephon. Camthalion; received a special class of fighter, an Ingek Class Quin-Fighter. Its wings jutted out of the fuselage like a star. Darksteel also received a ship similar to this, adapted to his mechanical body. Hresvelgr and Amantila were left in charge of the gun-turrets on the Bombardier.
Daociro sat inside the leather interior of his ship; his back sank into the squishy, squeaky black leather. He brought his hands towards the clutch, his hand flung back as it was cold to the touch. Suddenly there was a great deal of static; Daociro jolted upward and looked around to see where the noise was coming come.
"Eyes to Daoc, over. Eyes to Daoc."
Daociro reached over, and picked up a small headset; placing it over his head, bringing the microphone towards his mouth.
"Yeah, yeah? What is it? Over."
"Are you ready for this? Over."
"Yeah, as I'll ever be, over."
"I can't wait to shoot down some Draconis! Pow, pow, pow, pow! Over."
"You know, we don't have to say over."
"I know, but it sounds cool as hell."
Daociro laughed, and then more static came in.
"This is Tyrant, we're preparing to launch. Man your stations."
"Good luck out there." Daociro said into the mouthpiece."
"You too kid." Eyes responded.
Suddenly an alarm rang out, as the countdown neared for the hangar-door to be opened. People scurried into their cockpits, engines revved. Then the alarms ceased, for the door had been opened. There were only a few inches of metal between him and the deep void of space.
"So this is it." Daociro said.
Tyrant's Quin Class Fighter rose above the others; its golden body, barbed and cruelly brilliant shimmered in the setting alien sun. Blue flames tricked, and then roared. As his ship flew ahead of the others; and soon, they too followed. The shepherd led the sheep. The Commander led his men. One thing lead to another. And at last all things had begun.

Chapter Seventeen
Allies and Enemies

Sergeant Major Jefferson put the black phone towards his ear, through the static of space he said.
"Lady Akania, can you hear me now?"
"Yesss." said Akania in a deep, smoky voice.
"Good, can you hear me now?"
"Haf'nt you've got better things to doo?"
"Oh, yes of course. Sorry, got caught up in watching this Verizon Commercial." Sergeant took the remote and turned off the T.V.
"What haf you called me for?"
"Are you aware of the War?"
"Ov Course!" Akania exclaimed in her thick Swedish accent.
"And are you aware of the reports of Inheritance Ships crossing into our airspace?"
Akania paused, and then responded surprisingly shocked. "They hof?"
"Yes."
"By Krom! They are quick on their little hooves feet."
Sergeant had a hard time picturing that image.
"You won’t us to halp in thees crisis?"
"Yes, the Felagund Empire is still loyal to the Draconis is she not?"
"Until stars hof waned, and light hof gone; yes."
The static between the two grew greater still. When did Akania get such a thick Norwegian Accent? Sergeant thought to himself in the midst of faulty communications.
"Whe-whe-whe-whe."
"Can you hear me now Akania?" Sergeant asked urgently.
"When can the Felagund come..."
The line went dead. The silence was thicker then any fog.
Officers and soldiers turned towards him; for they too noticed the silence growing.
Sergeant gazed upward, his hand over the mouth of the telephone. In the distance he could see so many twinkling stars; like a cloud. But he knew, he knew they were not stars.
And then he heard it; the wailing sound of an engine. So identifiable to a Tie-Fighter, but in truth, a ship of Inheritance.
He dropped the phone.
"Fire! All hands on deck! Fire at will! Man the fighters! Contact all ships of the line! The enemy is here!"

Chapter Eighteen
The Beginning of the Battle

The Soragon Class Fighter flew over the captain's quarters of the Home One Flagship. Inside the cockpit, two pilots manned the controls; one manned the forward controls, the other manned the guns. As they flew over, they failed to recognize the sheer pandemonium they had caused... As usual.
"Man this thing flies like a dream! Bosco approves of this!" exclaimed Bosco.
"It is a vessel of god!" Corsair decreed.
"Eh?" Bosco said, turning around toward him; he looked back forward. "Sure Corsair." Bosco continued on, "I still can't believe these guys had a ship like this in there."
"Wasn't there a sign on it also?"
"I don't know, I just read the words: STOLEN, PLANE, AND NOT TO BE FLOWN UNLESS ORDERED BY DRACONIS."
"Isn't that a sentence?"
"Yeah, who cares?"
Corsair looked over the Gun Turret of their ship. "Uh, Bosco?"
"Yeah?"
"Is it just me, or are those cannon are moving?"
Bosco turned around; from the corner of his eyes he saw the gun turrets of the Home One rotating. Right towards them.
"Holy jeez!" Bosco exclaimed.
"Don't take the lords name in va-"
"DAMN IT, SHUT UP AND FLY THIS THING!" Bosco screamed quickly.
The ship made a hard turn straight down; as it went red glare blasted clear over the tail of the engines.
"Incoming fire" Tyrant said over the intercom. "Evasive maneuver 24."
Daociro heard this, and pulled his ship as far to the left as he could. The ships in his squadron formed a perfect vertical circle; the light passing through likes a finger through a ring.
The laser fell beneath the Bombardier; at the central command deck, Nicholas ordered. "You may fire when ready." The message was broadcast towards the main gun turret atop the vessel; a quarter mile long round barrel, firing a laser capable of boring a hole over ten meters wide, and twice as deep; even through the toughest of metals.
Hresvelgr was behind the controls. He heard the command in the little earphone delved into his slushy head.
"How you like these apples, eh?!" Hresvelgr said as he banged the keys furiously to get the gun in position. He pressed the flashing big red button at the lower right corner of the keyboard. When he pressed it the entire barrel shot back; a straight line of blue crossed the sky, as long as the barrel it was sent from. Hresvelgr could not thuroughly enjoy it, because he was presently sprawled in a pile of mush upon the rear wall.
As the light approached the Home One Flagship, Sergeant ordered swiftly. "Activate Defensive Shields!"
His men beneath him manned the keys furiously, the light growing greater still as it approached them. Suddenly when it almost seemed that they were going to be destroyed, there was a translucent grey orb that surrounded them. The light exploded in all the colors of the rainbow and sparkled away like fireworks.
Moments later, five ships soared furiously from the Current Issue's Hemisphere; all seemingly different alterations of the Home One. And even in the depths of space could there be seen on the planet more ships rushing towards the void of space, to ready themselves in defense.
"Fire all broadside cannons!" commanded Sergeant. There was more tapping of keys, and with a jolt of recoil; the cannons were fired.
Streaks of yet more red light crossed through space, they approached the Shade-Class Cruiser the Dharma. Her captain, Elfin King, ordered. "Descend 90 degrees!" The ships outer wheels turned violently, driving the ship downward; her spokes unseen at the ferocity of their speed. The ships that followed her did likewise; the laser was deflected by Michelangelo's Grenadier Tyrant-Class Battleship.
The Shade-Class Cruisers drove themselves closer to the Home One, closer than any other ship had thus progressed; so far, they were within firing range.
"Ready all Forward Laser Cannons, fire on my mark." The eight other men within the cockpit turned dials and pressed yet more buttons still. The wheels slowed as the guns were withdrawn; again, the other ships followed his orders.
"Incoming Shade-Class Cruisers, Captain." a young female officer addressed to Sergeant.
"Thank you, Tina. Ready all Municipal Cannons, you are free to fire at any time."
The sides of the vessel then, seemed to open with all sorts of holes and crevasses. One might have thought the ship was falling to pieces, in earnest it was something far more sinister.
Elfin did not seem to notice, as he achieved optimal firing range.
"Fire!"
Light sparkled off the forward part of the ship, like a shower of sparks they rained upon the Home One Flagship; little explosions could be seen on the surface.
"We are damaged captain!" exclaimed another officer.
"We can take it, she was built for more." Even in the face of battle, Sergeant smiled at the pride of his ship.
As the Home One continued to maintain fire from the onslaught of Shade-Class Ships, they, ironically, seemed to be missing the cannons outright. The ship was shaken, but in earnest was unscathed for the most part.
Suddenly, when Elfin ordered a momentary cease-fire to prevent the cannon's from overheating. Little barbs and cannons erupted from the holes on the Home One; by the time Elfin realized what was happening it was too late.
"Turn back! FULL SPEED BACK! FALL BACK!"
To one afar it seemed as though the side of the Home One had exploded like a volcano. Light blasted from its starboard end, as the ships revved up presently to retreat from emanate doom whatever protection they may have provided was rendered useless. They exploded in a shower of sparks, shrapnel, and debris that floated weightlessly through the void of space.
The fire of the fray reached over the approaching Soragon and Superman Class ships.
"Pull up! Pull up!" Eyes exclaimed over the intercom.
What ships could move from the onslaught of fire, yet still, two Superman class ships were gunned down.
The side of the Home One opened again, this time to release her second most deadly onslaught.
"The ships are ready, Captain." announced another officer.
"Good, very good." Sergeant said.
From the hangar bay of the Home One, erupted an entire swarm of steel and mechanical circuitry. Blue and red jets lit up the black skies; they were like a midnight fog, impenetrable and thick as velvet.
Tyrant's Golden Ingek-Class Quinship accelerated forward, all other ships in tow. Having joined them now were yet another regiment of Shade-Class Cruisers, Blademaster's Personal Ship, and all the Tyrant Class ships: Nicholas' Bombardier, Michelangelo's Grenadier, and Tim (another moderator's) Fusilier, which crawled forward, still firing their main laser cannons.
Tyrant gave a command to all Soragon and Superman class ships:
"On my command, we break ranks, and prepare to fire at will."
Daociro brought his hands over the controls.
"In three."
He licked his lips, his heart raced, sweat beaded down his face.
"Two."
The ships of Draconis roared in closer, their engines slowly wailing into the intercom.
"One."
The lines of battle were drawn; the pieces were all into place... The die had been cast. It was now any man's game.

Chapter Nineteen

Morzan's Ship

Inside the Hull of the Bombardier, down a long gray hallway of steel, there was a small little room with a single glass porthole gazing out into the bleak abode of space. Cages and suitcases piled up against the walls; a line of rust ran down from the ceiling. The door was locked, but inside sat a poor wretched boy; peering at the erupting fray of lights.
"So it begins." He said, with lament.
Daociro's ship shot over the front of the Angrod Five Draconis Battleship. Light splashed about him as he dove downward, in pursuit of a Stryker class ship, which, to Daociro's Amazement, was being piloted by a monkey.
"Monkeyman come in, Monkeyman!" wailed the intercom.
The monkey screeched as he banged the controls furiously. Laser beams flaring, the ship going faster, and then slower, every which way imaginable.
"Monkeyman! Man your ship properly!" the intercom went again. "Ship on your tail!"
Daociro eyed the controls and the ship, his thumbs over the gun trigger as he prepared to fire; waiting to get him in sights.
"Monkey!"
The monkey screeched again as he started punching the controls.
"I have you now!" Daociro said, as the rapid whooping of his ship stated that indeed, his foe was in firing range.
The rockets were released, and trailed off into space going towards their target.
The monkey cooed as he seized the controls and turned them around violently. The ship went off in a death spiral; the rockets missing only by inches.
"What are you doing now?!" the intercom screamed at the hairy pilot.
"I missed him?" Daociro said in disbelief.
The monkey was now flailing around the cockpit, hitting the glass and the floor each second; the ship spiraling like a bullet.
Suddenly the pilot was ejected; the glass windshield of his ship fell away. The brown monkey hung still in space, cooing; as two ships suddenly flung past him; he whirled around, tail following slowly.
The ship still spun though, moving close to the speed of light.
"Monkey! Pull up! Pull up!" The intercom screamed; but it was not heard. Instead the ship, still drilling through the vacuum of space, plowed clear into the side of the Angrod Five; fire erupted and bellowed as the ship keeled over to one side. Erupting in fire as it began to slowly fall into the Current Issue's Gravity.
About all this though, the municipal cannons of the Home One still erupted in fury through the air; Eyes' Squadron dove down atop the Home One, where the Municipal Cannon's could not reach. Only meek Auxiliary Lasers.
"Unload all bombs! Fire!"
The top of the Home One Flagship danced with a shower of sparks: though the bombs had hit their mark, they had been deflected.
"Agh, Damn!" Spat Eyes, as he brought his ship back around to make back to the Bombardier before they received too much fire.
Meanwhile, down in the nearby Carnesîr Four, Agorius Two, and Amras Seven. The ships were encountered by the great masses of the Tyrant Class Battleships.
"Prepare for attack!" commanded Nicholas over the intercom.
Hresvelgr, still manning the Main Cannon, pressed more buttons still, as the cannon rose with a groan, upward, stretching itself towards the heavens bringing the cannon downward.
"Fire!"
Down in the Attack Tiers of the Bombardier; the air sounded with the recoil of laser cannons; as soldiers ordered commands and for more supplies to maintain the cannons. Red light flared across the skies, and was met with heavy counter fire from the two ships; Carnesîr Four and Amras Seven.
The Main Cannon groaned more, as it rose higher still. Nicholas contacted him. "Hresvelgr, what are you doing?"
"Let's see how they like this." Hresvelgr smiled through gritted teeth, pressing more buttons.
"Hresvelgr, no!"
Just as the gun fired back; it was severed in half and exploded. The light of the cannon pierced the captain's chambers of the Amras Seven, as well as her stability controls. The Amras lulled forward, rear-ending the Carnesîr Four; the two slowly dragging each other downward, laser fire still erupting from the two of them. The Bombardier on the other hand, while still firing, now had a gaping hole in its top; supplies rushed out into the vacuum. Hresvelgr rose out of the wreckage with a jetpack.
"Ha! Beat that!" he exclaimed, his face turning bluer by the minute.
"HRESVELGR!!!" Roared Nicholas. "GET OUT OF THERE! YOU CAN'T SURVIVE THERE!"
"What are you killing I'm fi-"
Hresvelgr fainted, bluer than any blueberry.
The Home One hangar-bay opened wide in the midst of the fighting. There was the roaring of some infernal engine; as the Septimus Nine prepared for take off.
"You are ready to depart, Septimus Morzan." Sergeant said to the captain.
"Ha-ha! With pleasure!" Morzan declared. The Red Septimus Nine drifted out into the fray; shaped like a huge, bold X At the end of each wing was a little glass dome, upon which a gunner was placed. The ship went forth; its engine rumbling rapidly "Tut-tut-tut-tut-tut-tut"
"That ship sound's a lot like Sebulba's doesn't?" Sergeant said to Tina.
"I wouldn't know, no one cared about that movie."
The Septimus Nine continued through space; all ships of Inheritance that caught in its path broke apart into shrapnel and debris. The wings arched and moved, as the ship moved between all ships on both sides; Draconian and Inheritancean.
Suddenly however, the Septimus Nine slowed, as a lone Inheritance ship stood in its wave. An Ingek Quin-Class Fighter. Silver bladed arms arching from its shimmering core. A voice seeped into Morzan's intercom.
"It's been a long time, Septimus."
Morzan ship stopped in midair, other ships flying around it not caring the least bit at all. And as the two ships hovered there, their minds met; fire met fire; hate met undeniable wroth.
"Ah. Shur'tugal."

Chapter Twenty
The Battle Rages

The Streamer Barrage of the Bombardier Inheritance Ship blazed across space; colors sparkled and exploded amidst a black canvass. Ships in mid-flight sputtered and stalled, falling downward into the auburn and baize clouds below.
The Home One Flagship crept through this fray of light; its municipal cannons still firing, still raging, still reaching destruction unheard of till these moments dire and cruel. At the helm of the ship, Sergeant still commanded his ship with keen accuracy.
"Tina! Prepare the second flank of Stryker-Class Fighters!" "August! Aim those cannons towards that Tyrant-Class Battleship!" "Stryker! Get me a Cappuccino!"
"De-caff or no?"
"Decaff is fine."
As Stryker ran off towards the kitchens, burning hotter than the fields of carnage about them. August called,
"The Municipal Cannon's are dying down sir! They've lost their energy!"
Sergeant looked at her for a moment, at first with slight disbelief and shock; and then with excitement and thrill.
"Very well, bring the ship around; we are going headlong into the fray. Ready all Rear Engines! Aim the ship towards that cluster of Tyrant ships there!"
The ship gave a jolt; sputtered, and then with a lunge swung forward through space. Like a Roman Trireme careening towards the enemy, preparing to ram them.
"A long time it has truly been Shur'tugal. I have waited very long for this moment."
Morzan caressed the broadside of his sword with his palms.
"Far longer have I waited?" Shur'tugal said "You remained loyal to him, you stayed while I fought him; I was wise enough to see."
"To see the doom of our time?” Morzan said. "To see this emerging from the abysmal deep ready to smite those in its wake; to bring death to Inheritance?
"No. Septimus. I was wise enough to see Draconis' doom sealed upon her very birth; to know her rise, would only bring about the downfall of all who remained loyal."
"Loyalty to Draconis.” Morzan finally said. “Is to have loyalty to victory, and to always have her, at your side."
"We shall see to that."
The Septimus Nine's engines revved, light stemmed from behind. The Ingek Quin-Class Fighter shimmered brightly in the sunlight; ready to strike a keen blow upon any foe.
And then there was the resounding ring of laser cannon.
The line had been drawn once again, now a new conflict stirred amidst this raging ruin of fire and steel.

Chapter Twenty-One
The Fray

The Bombardier's Cannons rumbled and stirred with the recoil of ammunition. "Direct all power to the starboard generators!" Carnoc yelled to his men.
"Don't you find it weird that we have a ton of names for like two things?" a soldier asked another over the roar of the battle.
"Not really," the soldier answered "Oh, by the way, you should pay more attention to your Reflector Defensive Offensive Beam."
"Gotcha."
The combatant floors rang clear and loud with the sounds of interstellar battle; lights seemed to dance around the room, turning and shimmering. Carnoc occasionally had to command Onion to stop break dancing in the middle of the room and return to his post.
Up at the Bridge, Nicholas saw the battle raging about him and his crew. "How are we faring Ekai?" he asked one of his men.
"We are doing well captain; no significant damage has been sustained by the ship."
"Good, yes, very good."
But yet, almost upon saying this. The light of the stellar sun seemed to wax away; darkness filled the room. Nicholas looked upward, hands withdrawing from behind his back. He gazed to see if the sun had merely set behind the alien planet, but instead of this; he saw something far less serene, and far direr.
An iron curtain crossed his vision, so black, so dire.
"My God."

The Ingek Class Fighter dove down in-between the Bombardier and the Home One Flagship, in its wake came a barrage of red lasers and the 'tut-tut-tut-tut' of the Septimus Nine. Its red wings arching and flexing in the canyon between the two ships. At the tip of each of its wings the gunners there, in there turrets; send forth ray after ray of assault.
"Get back here coward!" Morzan screamed over the intercom to Shur'tugal.
"Too slow to catch me, in both mind and body; who would have known?"
"AHHHGH!!"
Soragon class fighters tried their hardest to dive out of the Septimus' wake, but more so often then not they merely were sucked into its momentum and crushed. Daociro was not one of these unfortunate pilots; he was bolder, more daring isn't a good term to use, petrified is more to the point.
He brought his ship around and gathering as much courage as he could in his adrenaline shocked state, went in pursuit.
"Captain" hissed one of the gunner's to Septimus. "Ship on our tail."
"Dispose of him."
The upper-left turret of the Septimus Nine spun about, Daociro numbed by fear blindly went forth; unknowing that he had been spotted.
"I have you now, maggot."
The gunner reached for the trigger.
Eyes came down in his Superman class bomber, the long keen nose of the ship swept over the gunner dome; then came the resounding explosion of a bomb.
The Septimus Nine spun, one of its four wings having been completely disintegrated. It lulled downward, still vainly in pursuit of Shur'tugal's ship. But as what remained of the ship same so close as to fire that ship. The hulk of the Septimus was pushed against the side of a Draconian ship: fire erupted about, the Draconian ship shook and groaned. There was the trail of a rocket, and then little more.
"Eyes." breathed Daociro.
"Don't do anything like that again." Eyes stated. "Savvy?"
Daociro breathed heavily, and then nodded frantically. "Yeh, yeh."
Meanwhile, the main broadside cannons of the Home One met equally great fire from the Bombardier; out in space the Grenadier approached the Home One's opposite side, and the Fusilier remained off afar, still firing her main long-range cannon long after the others had stopped. It was truly a clash of titans.

Chapter Twenty-Two
Clash of Titans

"Ship to starboard men! Man those gun ports!"
The Bombardier coasted towards the side of the Home One Flagship. Fire was constantly being exchanged between the two ships of the line; shrapnel burst and flew amidst the vacuum of this deep space.
“Captain!" called Tina to Sergeant Major Jefferson. "All Automatic cannons are overheating; we must take them offline sir!"
Sergeant looked at her with a relatively blank stare as though he had not expected such an occurrence, and then returning to himself he ordered. "Take them off line then! Have all men ready the Broadside cannons."
Tina reached over her station and reached for an intercom, as she spoke into it her voice reverberated across the entire vassal in a strange monotone. "All gunners to your stations. All gunners to your stations. Fire at will."
As though her very word was law, men streamed to the sides of the ships; across her side they would reach down, load the energy shells into the base of the cannons, and they would prepare to fire. Likewise did the people onboard the Bombardier; how strange it is how enemies could be so alike without their knowing.
The Grenadier too, now coasted alongside the mass body of the Home One. Ships across the field of battle now were swarming around this one point, this one singularity upon which everything depended: The Inheritance came to do harm, and the Draconians came to undo that harm; that wrong that had been done unto them.
Daociro's ship however had returned to the hangar bay of the Fusilier, which now was away from the fray; providing a place of retreat and recuperation for those ships which had been damaged. As Daociro leapt from his cockpit inside the laser-shield protected bay, he looked back and saw the entire fray of battle laid out before his eyes. Had it not been for the war it all would've seemed like a fireworks display set alight by Tyrant, alas if only that were so. Not in these times.
"It's strange isn't it?"
Daociro leapt and turned around; there on the ground sitting cross-legged was Amantila.
"It's strange." She continued. "Peculiarly in fact, how one thing looks different to another? What say you, Daociro? Do you not agree?"
Daociro looked at her perplexedly, and then nodded with consideration. "I understand. Though if only what I saw were the truth then the world would be so much fair."
"Every rose has its thorn Daociro; we shall all soon realize that."
The light rippled and flashed once again, as a new event more horrible occurred.
Black hooks and tubes stretched across the space, clawing deep into the metal carcass of the Bombardier. Sirens wailed abroad stating there had been a breach in the hull. And soon after from this breach emerged a new horror. From the portal made in the walls the tube stretched clear back to the Home One, and along its hollow innards
marched soldiers from Draconis.
"All men! Too the second-level!" ordered Carnoc as he lead a handful of his own gunners into the fray. Many others followed, and in pursuit followed Hvreslgr walking along with his stubby legs.
"I say, what's going on here!" he declared. In response a flaming red lion emerged upon the black floors of the second level. His claws dug deep into the chest of an Inheritancean. The Inheritance parted at this sight.
"What say you men of Inheritance?" the lion roared. "Afraid to face death, or rather I, Aryalover, in the face?"
Hvreslgr, feeling strangely bold, challenged the beast. "What say you? I've got somethin' to say ter you! You can kiss my sorry, pale, slushy, underside that's what you can do!"
The lion's red eyes drove daggers into Hvreslgr. His teeth were born and his mane flared. "I see we have someone willing to face this death. Alas, if he were only nobler as opposed to- stupid."
Hvreslgr took this insult as a slap in the face. "You have no right to speak, you overgrown cat!"
"We shall see to this! RROOOOAAAA!!!!!" Aryalover's roar reverberated across the hull of the ship, ending upon the vacuum of space.
But as the lion's mouth was opened, the overly bold and brazen Hvreslgr had a stroke of genius; decapitating his own head, he tossed it into Aryalover's mouth. Upon entry Hvreslgr fell to the ground awaiting the re-growth of his head, and the lion's mouth clamped shut. Flamed ebbed along his body and he tossed back groaning trying to breath. The flames grew and the beast ran back towards the Home One to seek help. However midday, the lion's flame erupted and died, along with it the lion himself.
The chords bonding the two ships snapped, both recoiled and the void of space began to claim the innards of the ships. Soldiers within the tubes were shredded there in that void, and not even the ships themselves proved much refuge.
The Grenadier, now alongside the Home One, drove her cannon fire into her belly; the lines of battle had been broken even, or so it seemed.
On the Fusilier, Timothy gazed upon the battlefield with awe and dread. And then something happened, he did not intend.
"Captain! We have something coming in fast!"
He looked over and ran to the screen. "What is it?"
"I don't know. There must be something wrong with the machines, according to this it's moving at speeds that aren't attainable by any vehicle of ours or the Draconis. See look! It's off the scales the computer can't even keep up!"
Timothy looked at that screen for what seemed a very drawn out time.
"Sir, what do you think it is?"
Timothy continued to look, and then finally, he smiled. Speaking slowly, he said.
"I know who it is."

Chapter Twenty-Three

Sethirus

A clear sphere appeared from the gloom, its edges hot from the speeds at which it traveled. As it approached the fray it did not slow, nor did it gain speed; space silenced this orb from making a sound, space made it appear the same as the background upon which it traveled.
The battle continued in fullest sway, cannon fire rippled and roared; fires could be seen within the ships once more. Hvreslgr's head had re-grown miraculously quick, and with it came the wits to run for the hills as the vacuum of space seized the entire level.
"Come Hvreslgr!" ordered Carnoc over the wail of the vacuum. "Make for the doorway!"
Ahead of the two of them the doors were, ever so slowly, coming closed to prevent the entire ship from being lost. They broke for it, trying as they might to break the force of the vacuum. But the vacuum was too strong, Carnoc realizing this turned to Hvreslgr.
"Hvreslgr, I need to toss you."
"Whu?"
"I need to toss you; it's the only way at least one of us can make it out of here."
Hvreslgr looked at Carnoc, and then nodded. "Alright. Let's do it."
Carnoc anchored himself as best he could to the ground and grabbed hold of Hvreslgr. With the door still closing, he brought his arm back and then brought it forward.
Hvreslgr went forward a grand total of a foot, and then was blown back and flung out of the ship.
"Well that was interesting." Carnoc said, as suddenly his body was flung from the brace he had made and flung out of the ship as well.
Back onboard the Home One, Sergeant was now pacing in frustration, as the battle seemed less as less in his favor. Five out of his fleet of seven ships, his included, had been destroyed. Randomic would not be pleased, and there would be no lying to him; he most surely could see the ships falling from the sky already.
Then something happened to worsen his situation much more.
"Captain!" Tina called once more. "All our guns are loosing power fast."
And it showed too, while just moments ago the entire ship had maximum fire power (save the Municipal Cannons) there was now an ever shrinking green line that was transforming to yellow and then red. Fortunately the enemy seemed to be undergoing the same problem; the rapid barrage of fire was now steadily dying down to very little. Try as they both might, neither side could fire.
"Tina, status report."
"All our guns are down sir. Engines are up and running, all vital systems on-line."
"What's happened the-"
Suddenly he saw a flash in the sky, a speck reflecting the stellar sun. The silence gripped everything; no sounds were spawned in that moment.
The fighters in space drifted now, their cannons too disabled. They dare not ram one another for that meant the death of both, and still, try as they might their guns were disabled.
Only one vessel could still fight.
The Orb, heading straight for the fray, began to change. Rather than being a crystalline clear sphere, it became opaque and white. Lightning now began to sparkle and glisten about its body.
It changed course, no longer going in a straight line, it dove straight down right into the silenced fray; and as it went great surging waves of energy were released from its body. All ships struck by this rogue wave fell limp to the planet beneath: be them Inheritance or Draconian.
Sergeant Major Jefferson now considered a retreat vital; he was about to open his lips when suddenly, the ship was grazed by an energy pulse.
With a lurch, and a flicker of the lights, the Home One tilted and began to sink. Pulling himself up Sergeant commanded "Retreat! Order all ships to retreat! We cannot hold the line! RETREAT!"
Frantically, the order was given throughout the entire Draconian fleet. Down on the Current Issue's Planet. Randomic could see the ships coming down; and like the fire emitted from them there was a fire in his eyes. Bitter, and wrathful, he clenched his fists so tight his knuckles cracked.
The Orb shrank away now, towards the Fusilier. Daociro and Amantila rose as the orb materialized through the energy shield and entered the hangar bay. The Sphere landed on the floor, and as it opened a sickly old man emerged, and collapsed.

Chapter Twenty Four

Discovery

"Thank you, Timothy."
Sethirus now lay in a white bed, his white hairs caressed over his wrinkled old face. His skin beaded with sweat, his eyes groggy and weary.
"No, it is us who should thank you. You brought to us victory."
"Would you not have had it yourself without my help? UGH!" Sethirus went into a coughing fit, upon which Timothy asked that he please get some rest.
Exiting the room, Michelangelo having boarded the Twinkie Sapphire Class Nurse Ship from the Grenadier, approached Timothy. "How is he?"
"His vital signs are not well; he's not in any critical condition; though it is appropriate to worry. He was in no position to do what he did. Doing that sort of thing takes a lot out of a man."
Michelangelo nodded, and then approached Sethirus; but Timothy stopped him. "Please, sir. He needs his rest."
Daociro and Amantila waited by the hangar bay still of the Fusilier for the arrival of the others. First came Camthalion, who held her head up high in defiance of her enemies. "Who here thinks they can challenge me?" she declared. Celephon arrived soon after, laughing hysterically out of panic, humor, or just sheer insanity. Daociro figured it was the latter most; Amantila, all three.
Eyes arrived last; Daociro rose up and offered to shake his hand. In response, Eyes looked at him confused. "What are you doing?"
"Hmm? I want to thank you for saving my life back there again; I want to shake your hand."
Eyes still was confused. "Shake hands?"
Daociro tried to explain, he himself very confused. "It's a way that friends express gratitude."
Eyes were even more perplexed then before. "Friends?"
Daociro went silent.

The Home One continued to fall from the skies, sirens wailing, people screaming. Tina once again sent out a call across the ship; this one was more welcome though. "Booster Engines to full power! Stabilizers activated!"
With another lurch the ship stopped, hung midair on its side, as it began to rotate upright ever so slowly. When it did, Sergeant spoke. "Is everyone alright?"
"Yessir." "Yessir." went the calls one at a time across the room. At times broken by a "My leg!" or "MY EYES! MY EYES!!"
Sergeant then did something he had not done the entire stay upon the ship; he left his post and inspected the ship himself. Tina followed, as did Stryker nearby.
About the ship they went, people rose to there feet looking around bewildered. Left and right Sergeant looked; trying to make sure his ship had not been completely wrecked. Then a soldier ran up to him.
"Sir! There's someone in the laundry bay, he's not one of our own." Wide-eyed, Sergeant broke into a full-fledged run in pursuit of the leading soldier.
Hvreslgr looked around, his head numb and dully aching, a bright light looking him dead in the face. "Where am I?" he murmured to himself; the last five minutes had been completely unbeknownst to him. Despite this though, he felt surprising comfortable; as though we were laying on down, or cotton, or silk. Suddenly the light went dark as sounds were heard and it seemed as though a dark hand came over his eyes.
Elsewhere on the ship, a more sinister discovery was made.
"WOOOOHHWWEEEEE!!!!' Corsair declared as he exited the ship. "That was INNNSSANE!"
"Tell me about it, least we did our part to dispatch the enemy."
"We did?"
"Yep."
"Did what?"
"I don't know. Hey what's that on your shoe?"
"I have no idea." Corsair lifted up his shoe. "Ugh, yuck. It looks like blood."
"Ick, where do you think it came from?"
"No idea."
"Wasn't me, I've already had my monthly trauma."
Corsair went silent, silent enough for them to hear a moaning from there plane.
"Help me... You – idiots. "
Looking back, they saw the third discovery, fouler than the first, but not quite as foul as the second.

This post has been edited by DaoCFan 2.0: 24 March 2008 - 01:09 PM

[Morvich]

This should be pinned.

This post has been edited by Morzan202: 02 April 2008 - 06:52 PM

[water-and-fire]

Wow this is really long! I read some of it and I think it's really cool!

[American Flag]

Where's a topic getting pinned when you need one...