The bright sun was extinguish'd,
And the stars did wander darkling in the eternal space,
Rayless, and pathless,
And the icy earth swung blind
And blackening in the moonless air;
Morn came and went—and came,
And brought no day,
And men forgot their passions in the dread of this their desolation;
And all hearts were chill'd
Into a selfish prayer for light...
The winds were wither'd in the stagnant air,
And the clouds perish'd; winds halt, and mists disperse,
Darkness had no need
Of aid from them—
She was the Universe.
— Excerpted from Lord Byron's "Darkness"
Prologue
The war was drawing to a close.
The relentless onslaught of the Antonios Legion breached the three barriers deployed by the Sacrum Chu Imperium Joint Expeditionary Force, one by one. Amid the dying stars, Marshal Crux Carrier "St. Andrews," led by General Palmer Lloyd and escorted by six Winged Hussar-class Light Missile Destroyers and twelve Reliat-class Rapid Torpedo Frigates, navigated through layers of scattered wreckage to the final battleground.
The vast silhouette of the Garden Stargate was visible to the naked eye. On the broad bridge of the St. Andrews, Palmer watched as the battlefield was projected on the virtual portholes by the central computer. Standing with his hands clasped behind him, he gazed intently at the unfolding vista. In the midst of the last battlefield's darkness, sporadic explosions briefly lit up Palmer's eyes.
Here lies the final battlefield, a graveyard filled with countless shipwrecks adrift in the icy vacuum of space. From time to time, the fleeting glow from the engine of a rescue craft would briefly shine upon the carnage.
Though he was on the brink of victory, Palmer found his spirit untouched by jubilation.
Unlike the interstellar wars of many a tale, this battleground was mostly shrouded in darkness. The glow of energy weapons and kinetic shells illuminated but a mere fraction of the area. Even the gamma ray guns lurked invisibly amidst the void. Charged pulse energy weapons were the only thing that could bathe the battlefield in light. This kind of weapon was fitted mostly on capital ships. When discharged, the projected image of the battlefield would automatically dim. A mere few seconds of looking directly into that beam could cause irreversible damage to the human eye.
Then, it happened, the moment when the battleships succumbed to the fire and destruction. It was a sight of morbid splendor. Silent infernos ruptured the massive steel hulls, exhibiting a savage and mesmerizing beauty. Throughout the bygone days, these blossoms of death had bloomed countless times across battlefields. Their stamens were composed of the fiery radiance born from exploding vector engines, warp drives, and onboard energy systems, and their petals were molten streams of metal and ship hull fragments. In the airless expanse of space, the brilliant flames did not linger long; the floral tribute soon faded away, just like those frail and ephemeral lives, plunging irrevocably into the abyss.
After an arduous struggle, the mighty fleet of the Sacrum Chu Imperium was left crippled. Apart from the flagship, a Thunder-class battlecruiser, only two Rager-class frigates remained, but even they were severely damaged. They hovered around the flagship like cubs desperately trying to protect their wounded mother.
The cornered beast kept fighting, but everyone knew its fate was already sealed.
For reasons unknown, Palmer suddenly thought of a poem, a poem that was quite well-known throughout the galaxy:
I am the sword that pierces the stars.
I am the flame that lights up the darkness.
We lead the way without fear,
And death's flowers are our destined tribute.
My beloved,
Weep for me not.
For among the stars,
The flowers shall bloom for you.
And the steel wreckage,
Shall be my eternal headstone.
Lift your head,
For the starlight is my gentle gaze.
I shall be by your side always,
Until the end of time...
"General," the comm officer's voice chimed in Palmer's ear, "we've received a communication from the enemy. You can now speak directly with their top commander. Would you like me to connect you?"
"Have we confirmed their identity?" asked Palmer.
"Affirmative, commander." Lieutenant Chris Chen answered in the channel. Maybe it was Palmer's imagination, but the lieutenant’s tone seemed to carry a hint of reverence. "It's Marshal Banus Assanes."
Palmer paused for a second. Marshal Assanes? The legendary Marshal Assanes from the Sacrum Chu Imperium? But his uncertainty was then washed away. Of course! Marshal Assanes was the only person who could craft such a meticulous strategy, and he almost pulled it off. From the moment Palmer heard about the Sacrum Chu Imperium fleets’ abrupt arrival, his mind was drawn to an ancient battle from Earth: during the Punic Wars between Rome and Carthage, Carthage's celebrated general, Hannibal, led his troops across the snow-laden Alps and onto the Italian mainland, nearly altering the course of history. History, it seems, revels in these heart-wrenching ironies. Just as Hannibal met his downfall outside Rome, the famed Marshal Assanes of the Sacrum Chu Imperium seemed destined for a similar fate, right outside the Garden Stargate.
Among the stars, all tales are old.
Suddenly, a voice snapped him out of his musings.
"General?"
Palmer nodded, "Go ahead, connect the call."
As the mobile communicator hovered towards Palmer, a burst of radiant light projected a holographic figure. Indeed, it was Marshal Assanes. Age had taken its toll; his hair was almost entirely silver, yet immaculately combed back, not a strand out of place. His high nose, wide chin, and sunken eyes gave him an air of seasoned wisdom. He might have looked worn, but his eyes gleamed with unyielding resolve.
Palmer straightened his posture.
"I know you," Banus Assanes pronounced with undiminished gravitas, though his voice was tinged with weariness. "You are Palmer of the Lloyd lineage. Your father, Saleh Lloyd, was the Minister of the Industrial Technology Department in Carilion."
"Impressive memory, Marshal Assanes. You were the one who conferred my rank at the St. Triumph Military Academy's 132nd graduation ceremony," said Palmer, suppressing an urge to salute in respect.
"Ah, yes, and you turned out quite well, I see," the old marshal conceded with a nod.
"Marshal, you almost won that battle," Palmer said earnestly.
"You know what they say: almost only counts in horseshoes and hand grenades," the old marshal said with a nod and a smile. "I suspected there might be a defense fleet at the Stargate, but my plan was to try and neutralize them and seize the Stargate before reinforcements arrived. I bet on myself, and I lost. The reinforcements came far quicker than I would have thought possible. How did you make it happen?"
"Only about half of our ships have made it to the war zone," Palmer confessed with a hint of sorrow, "Believe me, sir, and I mean it, this was the toughest battle of my life."
"I see." the old marshal nodded, "Sometimes when it comes to bravery and sacrifice, numbers are meaningless."
"Sir, it's time to yield," Palmer said softly.
"You know as well as I do that that’s not an option.”
"You lost the battle. Cease your futile struggle."
"Several millennia ago, back in Earth's Great Navigation Era, they believed that the captain must go down with the ship." The old marshal's eyes, filled with both desolation and pride, stared past Palmer and beyond the projection as if he was mourning the last fleet of the Sacrum Chu Imperium. Soon, his gaze met upon Palmer's, "Living on holds no purpose for me. The crew feels the same way, and I won’t let this battleship fall into your hands."
A chill ran down Palmer's spine. He realized what the old marshal was going to do.
"General! We've detected an abnormal energy surge! The thunderbolt energy cannon is priming!" The warning from the battle analyst rang suddenly in Palmer's ear.
Palmer knitted his brow and asked, "What's its target?"
"The Stargate!" shouted the battle analyst, "God save Lagrange! He's going to destroy the Stargate!"
"General, time is of the essence!" Chris' voice pierced through, "The TB3000 - Pulse Energy Cannon fitted on the Thunder-class battlecruiser could devastate the Stargate! A direct hit on the space seed could destroy it. The odds are slim, but we can't risk it at this distance!"
"Sir, you don't want to do this!" Palmer's eyes locked onto the old marshal, his face icy and grim. Deep down, he knew the marshal had every reason to take this drastic step. The marshal's campaign had come to naught. The Sacrum Chu Imperium's fleets had been annihilated, and he had no hope of ever capturing the Stargate. Reinforcements from the Imperium, positioned on the opposite side of the Stargate, would never see the Stargate open. Still, the marshal had one last option: destroy the Stargate once and for all. This would turn the Garden Star System into an insular system, trapping the Antonios Consortium and ensuring they could no longer menace the Sacrum Chu Imperium. It takes at least sixty years to build a new Stargate, and that's only if there is an unwavering supply of manpower and resources constantly pumping through the Lagrange Point from the other side. Having just set foot in the Garden Star System, the Antonios Consortium was far from stable and lacked the technological foundation to create space seeds, not to mention build a Stargate. The graver concern at this moment was that the Antonios Consortium could be confined in the Garden Star System for all eternity.
"Give me one good reason." The old marshal's face remained impassive, but there seemed to be another emotion behind that icy cold mask that Palmer couldn't quite discern.
"General, thirty seconds until it's fully primed!"
"We've lost too many Stargates in this war!"
"War comes with its unavoidable costs—destruction and death. You should've learned this on your first day at the academy."
"You are well aware of the Garden Stargate's significance. It could become a Stargate Hub!"
"Twenty seconds!"
"That’s irrelevant to the Imperium." The old marshal slightly shook his head.
"Sir!" yelled Palmer.
Marshal Assanes smiled at Palmer and said, "Kid, I will do my part, and so will you." After saying that, the old marshal cut off the feed, and his holographic image vanished in thin air.
"FIFTEEN SECONDS!"
Palmer shut his eyes, "ALL UNITS, OPEN FIRE!"
The Crux Carrier's CI-600T Heavy Ion Turret blasted forth, unleashing a giant ion pulse beam on the Thunder-class battlecruiser that seared through its outer hull. Railgun and cannon fire soon followed, ravaging the two surviving frigates.
Then, a swarm of corvettes and fighters launched their attacks on the target. The fearsome assault shredded the battlecruiser's robust armor. Due to the pressure differential, equipment fragments, and even some human remains, spewed from the battered openings. Soon after, the ion pulse beam pierced through the ship's final layer of armor, igniting its power transfer system. The fireball spread to the vector engine and the warp drive system. As the ship fragmented, the blast from the warp engine distorted the surrounding area in a magnificent display.
In the blink of an eye, it was all over. A few scattered scraps of refuse were the only clues that a ship had ever been in that spot.
"General, our scanning system shows no signs of life on the battlefield." The battle analyst let out a sigh of relief. "Victory is ours."
"General, that was close." Chris Chen came up to Palmer. Both of them gazed at the now-darkened battlefield with the massive shape of the Garden Stargate prominent against the backdrop of the galaxy. "That beam was only a few seconds away from being fully charged. Marshal Assanes has lost his mind!"
Palmer shifted his attention to this young lieutenant and asked, "Chris, do you really think Marshal Assanes was going to destroy the Stargate?"
"A hundred percent," Chris responded, his eyes widening in surprise at Palmer. However, when he caught Palmer's intense gaze, he stammered, "Yes, general... I mean, destroying the Stargate must be part of the Sacrum Chu Imperium's strategic plan."
"I'm certain that Marshal Assanes received the order," Palmer mused, his eyes refocusing on the battlefield. The inferno had died down, but the Thunder-class battlecruiser's fate was sealed. Before long, the recycling fleets from the consortium would arrive and reduce the lifeless ship into pieces, like ants breaking down their prey, leaving nothing behind.
"General, are you saying Marshal Assanes had no intention of destroying the Stargate?" Chris blurted out, "But, it doesn't make sense, the energy cannon was charging..."
Palmer refrained from further comment. Turning his back, he exited the bridge and issued the final command of the campaign, "Let's move out."
With the thrust vectoring engine activated, the steel behemoth started to pivot, departing from the battlefield. Palmer knew that Antonios was out of harm's way, the Garden Stargate would remain intact, and countless ships would continue to sail through this Stargate into the stellar expanse. He knew he would revisit this place many more times, but deep inside, the general felt he had left a piece of himself in this starry cluster forever.
