UEG COLONY WORLD APEX
OCTOBER 16, 2846
1330 HOURS (LOCAL TIME)

The colony world Apex was well-known for its heavily forested and mountainous landscape. The entire forest was basically one gigantic mountain range, covered in both native and non-native flora. All kinds of wildlife prospered in the underbrush, while birds and aerial predators ruled the skies. It was a peaceful planet, managing to avoid the threat of terrorism for its hundred-year history as a colony, thanks to its general lack of political importance. However, the planet was finally attacked in mid-2846, not by humans, but by the alien race known as the Vaskran Hierarchy. By the time it was attacked, humanity had been at war with the aliens for more than two years.

Two long and bloody years since the outbreak of hostilities.

Now, the United Earth Government and its military, the United Earth Government Naval Command, was fighting a gruelling campaign against the Vaskrans in order to reclaim the planet. A blocky and rather unsightly alien transport streaked by overhead, above a small Vaskran base. Two aliens soldiers stood on the top of a hill, one with orange markings on his armour, the other one red on both armour and scales. They each grasped a T3EW Energy Beam Weapon in their hands, fingers ending in a sharp talon claw.

"Hey." The red one began, turning to his partner. His six slitted eyes were all focused on his orange partner as he attempted to strike up a conversation under the shining sun and scattered clouds.

"Yeah?" The orange one questioned, turning to his red partner, though his expression only read boredom as his snake-like tongue slid out of his elongated snout as he tasted the air for the umpteenth time.

"You ever wonder why we're here?"

The orange alien seemed to dwell on that for a while, showing his rows upon rows of razor-sharp teeth as he considered it. Then, he shrugged and spoke. "It's one of life's great mysteries, isn't it? Why are we here? I mean, are we the product of some cosmic coincidence, or is there really a god watching everything? You know, with a plan for us and stuff. I don’t know, friend, but it keeps me up at night."

Silence followed as the two stared at each other, the red one with an incredulous expression, the orange one with an uncomfortable and awkward one. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the red one spoke, clear disbelief in his rasping voice. "...What? I mean, why are we out here, in this forest?"

The orange one stared at his armoured three-toed feet. "Oh. Uh, yeah."

"What was all that stuff about god?"

"Hm? Nothing."

"You want to talk about it?"

"No."

The red one raised a claw to say something else, when the ground beneath them suddenly began to rumble. "What the-" Then they caught a glint of something in the treeline. He raised his weapon and stared down the scope, and immediately realised too late that it was one of those armoured fighting vehicles used by the humans. "OH SCHINDA!"

The two were then vaporised along with most of the uppermost portion of the hill when the vehicle's main cannon fired. The 125mm armour piercing high explosive round left the elongated rectangular barrel with such velocity it left a trail of white-hot plasma as it streaked through the air, and smashed into the hill hard enough to send a massive amount of grass and soil into the air. As the grit and dirt began to rain from the sky, the four-tracked RT413 Dragoon main battle tank rolled out of the treeline and towards open ground, the words Rolling Thunder proudly painted on its left side.

"Ha, ha! Good shot, Bowman!" Staff Sergeant Marcel Carver congratulated in his usual gruff voice, sitting at the commander's seat inside the tank. He was currently staring at the destruction through the Dragoon's holographic 270-degree view and watched as the lizards scrambled and began to deploy a response force. The commander wore his stripes on his Flame Resistant Multipurpose Vehicular Command with much pride. He didn't spend all those years in tank school and numerous offworld deployments for nothing. "Target, left side!"

"You got it!" Sergeant Adrian Bowman responded in his usual relaxed tone as he swung the turret around and pressed the fire button, causing the entire vehicle to shake as another 125mm round shot out and annihilated a Vaskran tank-like vehicle. The vehicle went up in a massive fireball of blue and orange. "Whoa! Damn, whatever the lizards use in those things are volatile as hell!" He observed as the Rolling Thunder was pelted with those strange alien energy beams. He'd seen what those things did to unarmoured soft targets like civilians. Burned right through flesh and bone, leaving a large hole where the beam entered and exited. Against armour, however, it wasn't as effective due to duratanium's high heat resistance. Sure, Marines still fell when they were hit, but against tanks, then they were akin to throwing snowballs at a brick wall and hoping it would fall. Bowman switched to the tank's 25mm Swarmer missile system and independently target every offending enemy soldier, before firing. A dozen tiny missiles immediately launched out of the tank and rocketed towards each one, before detonating. "How're you doing down there, Fields?"

"Fine, really." Replied Corporal Collin Fields as he stepped on the accelerator pedal, leading the charge as the other three tanks of Chariot Platoon. The four treads of the tank kicked up a large amount of dirt as they spun, propelling the vehicle forwards. The other tanks had begun blasting away, tearing any Vaskran vehicle or infantry to shreads. It would be easy to take out the first of the responders, harder to beat the main force. Even now, the next wave Vaskran troops had arrived, alien dropships landing and spewing troops from their carrying bays. Alien fighters engaged in a fierce dogfight with UEGNC Warhawks, decorating the sky with a plentora of smoketrails and explosions.

"Alright, people!" Carver said over tank's onboard communications systems. "Looks like the lizards are coming with full force. Keep pushing forwards!" By now, human DTT-143 Vulture dropships had swooped down behind the tanks and unloaded squads of armoured Marines who immediately opened fire on the alien infantry. Within minutes, the formerly tranquil scene had transformed into the site of a brutal firefight.

And it was just the calm before the storm.

The Alumnallen Castle in the city of Corvell
The sixteenth day of the tenth moon, in the year twenty-eight hundred and forty-six

Violetta stared at her reflection in the crude mirror that Cynthia had fashioned out of a piece of glass and spare bits of cloth. Sweet, pretty Cynthia, with not a mean bone in her body and an understanding of other people that most of the bluntly practical Alumnallens lacked. Violetta silently thanked the younger woman as she dipped her fingers into the small wooden bowl beside her and used the powder to cover up the bruises on her face. Prince Edwyrd Forrester, who was older than Princess Phillipa but younger than Queen Letitia (thank the moon and stars above for that), was prone to hitting anyone who displeased him, not just Violetta. There were a score of serving men who could attest to that. Itervians would have been disapproving, the Cyrainese would have been scandalized, and the Meraliti would have been horrified, but here in Corvell, the capital city of Alumnall, nobody so much as batted an eye. It was an accepted fact of the Almerinte-Alumnallen nobles and royalty were notorious for their quick intellect and their quicker tempers. Nothing to be done about it.

Cynthia was a chambermaid, tasked with tidying up the various rooms of the Alumnallen castle, including those currently occupied by a lady who had a complexion that was strikingly similar to Violetta's. Though Violetta frequently retired to the straw pallet that served as her bed much later than Cynthia did, the other woman somehow always knew when to filch some of the wondrous powder, the goddesses bless her soul.

Violetta finished up with the powder and smoothed out the front of the plain, unassuming beige skirt that she wore. She also had on a matching blouse devoid of any frills or decoration. She pulled her Meraliti-black hair back into a tight bun and scooped up the scrolls beside her bed. Violetta had stayed up quite late in order to ascertain that all the information in the scrolls were, in fact, accurate. She then gathered her skirts and left the small room she shared with Cynthia, preparing herself for the trek to Princess Phillipa's chambers.

Violetta kept her head down as she hurried by. While some of the serving staff, like Cynthia, were perfectly accepting of Violetta's presence, others seemed uncertain and wary around her. When she first took on her position in the castle, the servants were quite scandalized. They'd either treated her like she was nonexistent, were openly belligerent, or were entirely unsure of what to make of her. Some tried to address her as "m'lady", due to the fact that she would have been a lady in her current position if she'd been full-blooded, which Violetta put an end to immediately. She was no lady, and she wasn't delusional enough to believe that her current duties in helping the youngest princess run Alumnall automatically nullified the inescapable truth that she was a half-blood, and half-bloods had no place in Almerinte, least of all in an important ministerial post.

Violetta was two corridors away from her destination when the bells began to ring. One, two, and she was rounding the corner of the first corridor. Three, four, and she was halfway down the second corridor. Five, six, and she was a couple feet away from the elegant wooden doors that led to the princess's chambers. Seven, eight, and the guard stationed outside had caught sight of her and knocked. The last chime of the bell faded away as the guard showed her in at exactly eight o'clock in the morning.

This had been Violetta's routine for the past ten years.

Princess Phillipa Forrester was wearing a military-inspired tea colored affair that day. It was trimmed in chocolate-brown velvet, and large brass buttons ran down the front. Violetta thought that it suited Phillipa very well-it conveyed her clipped way of speaking and her no-nonsense demeanor perfectly.

Pippa glanced up as Violetta walked inside, her arms overflowing with scrolls, just as the bells finished chiming. She grinned inwardly. Violetta was nothing if not punctual, and Pippa loved punctuality in a person. Pippa was breaking her fast on fried wild mushrooms, sliced pears, boiled eggs and toast, fruit preserves, and porridge. She smiled a greeting at Violetta. "Good morning," she said, pushing a bowl of porridge toward Violetta's customary chair. When Violetta first began working with her, she always claimed that she'd eaten before arriving at her chambers. But Pippa had deduced the truth quickly-the cook was a pious arse who wouldn't so much as look in Violetta's direction, let alone give her anything to eat. So Pippa had decided that they would share at least one meal a day, depending on the circumstances, propriety and tradition be damned. Besides, Violetta never ate very much, anyway, despite Pippa's best efforts, so it would not kill the thrice-cursed cook to prepare the extra food.

Pippa frowned in thought as Violetta murmured a "Good morning, Your Grace," and sat down, taking small sips of her porridge. She's not as bony as she was when we first became acquainted, but she's much scrawnier than any Alumnallen. It must be because she eats like a bird; that, and her Meraliti blood.

"The calculations are all correct?" Pippa questioned, gesturing toward the scrolls. Violetta nodded.

"Lord Teignmott does good work, Your Grace," answered Violetta, referring to another one of Pippa's advisers and assistants.

Pippa nodded. "Mmm," was the only response she gave. "Why do you keep telling me that, Vi, when you and I both know that Randolph would have you stoned to death if he could? I know that you're being honest, but really, why must you be so damn nice about him all the time?"

Violetta shrugged slightly, embarrassed. "I-I did not mean to offend, Your Grace."

Pippa rolled her eyes. "For the love of the Western Wind, ViVi. Nothing you ever do offends me in any way, shape, or form. Do stop apologizing for everything. It's really quite vexing. And no, before you start-do not apologize for apologizing too much!"

Violetta couldn't help herself-she smiled at that, quickly covering her mouth with a gloved hand in order to stifle her sudden urge to giggle. Pippa looked on approvingly. Good. She's finally getting a sense of humor, it seems. It's about damn time.

The princess and Violetta finished their breakfast while discussing the scrolls that Violetta had looked over. Pippa groaned in frustration as Violetta mentioned the handiwork of a certain Lady Dremminick. "Why must you save Angelina's work for last every single time, Vi?" Pippa grumbled as she plucked the scroll from Violetta's fingers and glanced down at the numerous corrections done in Violetta's precise, tidy handwriting. "I swear, that woman couldn't tell you that two plus two equals four. But of course, my dear, foolish husband insists that his sister have a ministerial position, and I guess Lettie thought that she would do the least damage with me-how utterly wrong my sweet sister was," Pippa said with a derisive snort. "Well. You've fixed her atrocious math quite splendidly, my dear Violetta. And, what's this-she thought that The Bronze Wind was still abroad?" Pippa asked, incredulous. "Scarletta save me, what was that woman thinking? The Bronze Wind returned weeks ago."

Violetta let the princess ramble on. She talked enough for them both.

The rest of the morning passed rather routinely. At some point, a serving girl came in and cleared away the leftovers and cutlery, which went unnoticed by the princess. Pippa and Violetta were soon joined by the rest of Pippa's junior ministers, advisers, and assistants after they relocated to the meeting chamber. The rest of the people who served in Pippa's staff were quite a varied lot, in terms of family and personality and intelligence level. Pippa sighed heavily as Lady Angelina Dremminick swept into the chamber. One would think that a prerequisite for a position among my staff would be mathematical acumen, she thought. One would think so, but apparently that is not the case.

The topics of discussion mostly focused on the air-merchants returning to port and the castle's supplies, as well as the Itervian dignitaries that were due to arrive that very night. Pippa liked the Itervians-they were a tough, no-nonsense people-kind of like Pippa herself. Except their realm was cold, Scarletta save her, and so were the Itervians. They had no idea what the word "humor" meant. Queen Marleyna herself would be there, in fact, accompanied by her Cyrainese husband and her younger brother. Pippa understood that the other brother was the High Priest, so he would never set foot outside of Itervia in his life except for the case of a dire emergency.

Officially, the Itervians were coming to discuss Alumnallen-Itervian trade, but Pippa knew her older sister better than that. Queen Letitia had more important things that she wanted to consider, which was why the queen of Itervia herself had been invited. Pippa wasn't quite sure what it was, yet-Lettie had been keeping it a secret, even from her husband, which made it all the more worrying. Lettie had grown up with Philander. She trusted him with her life.

The Ministry of Records and Finances finished for the day at four past noon. The lords and ladies all retired to their chambers to prepare for the upcoming feast and arrival, while Violetta lingered in Princess Phillipa's chambers.

"Will you be attending the feast, Vivi? You should. It's only fair that you should," Pippa was saying as a servant girl brushed her unruly red hair.

Violetta shook her head and lowered her gaze. "It is not my place, Your Grace," she answered quietly. As a general rule, Violetta avoided all of the celebrations hosted in the castle. Most of them honored the four goddesses in some way, shape, or form, and what right did Violetta have to attend when her very existence was considered a disgrace to the goddesses?

The princess frowned but didn't press the point. "Well, off you go," she said. "Get some rest, then. The next few weeks will be very busy."

"Very good, Your Grace," Violetta murmured, bobbing a curtsy and returning to her small room.

As afternoon turned to twilight and twilight turned to dusk, Violetta could hear the sounds of revelry even from her quarters in one of the castle's many attics. She spent a couple of hours reading a book about Itervia before she decided to get some air. Violetta skirted the great hall and the main corridors, knowing that they were likely filled with serving men and girls rushing back and forth. Instead, she made her way outside of the castle walls, into the Corvellan Forest. There was a forest clearing that was only a one or two minute walk from the gates of the castle. Violetta reached the clearing and sat down beside the a gurgling stream, staring up at the stars and wondering if Mother Moon could see her from her vantage point high, high in the sky.

Fifteen minutes.

Fifteen minutes and the once-grassy hills and ground had been churned up into a battlefield of mud, gore, and metal. Much of the trees in the area were either on fire or had splintered into a million pieces as shrapnel rained down from above, flaming wrecks of both human and Vaskran craft crashed and burned. Armoured bodies littered the area, still holding their weapons as they failed to find cover in time. And the sky weeped, crying buckets as raindrops pelted the ground like bullets. But the battle still raged on, each side too focused on murdering each other to care about the weather. Down below, streaks of light tore across the landscape as human and alien fought tooth and nail to win the battle.

By now, both the UEGNC and Vaskran main forces had arrived, and the firefight had turned into a full-on battle with vehicle and artillery support. 8.41x63mm coilgun rounds streaked across the air as Marines scrambled to find whatever they could, unbothered by the rain as their HUD helpfully marked out the terrain and enemies. On the other side, the alien soldiers did the same, popping out of cover to fire their energy beam weapons. From a distance, were it not raining, it would make a magnificent light show, one to entertain children for years to come. If one were to ignore the screams of the dying, of course.

The rain mercilessly pelted the hull of the Rolling Thunder as explosions covered the Dragoon with mud, only to get washed off by the rain. Relentlessly, the vehicle continued its brutal push. "Bowman! Target, right side!" Carver commanded, and the tank shook as a round shot out and demolished the wreck of a civilian car the Vaskrans were using as cover. Blue-orange blood sprayed everywhere, along with body parts. "Target! Right!" The rain had grown so heavy by this time it blanketed the area with white water. Visibility was low, and advanced sensors were vital for picking out targets. Only faint flashes of light and the vauge outlines of shapes. Undeterred, the Rolling Thunder pressed on.

Then suddenly, everything stopped. The tank's engine suddenly switched off, along with all of its systems and lighting.

"What the hell?" Carver switched on his helmet flashlights, illuminating the rather spacious interior of the tank in a bright white light. The other two members did the same. "What happened?"

"I don't know!" Fields responded, fear evident in his voice as he futilely pushed on the tank's control pedals and yanked on its yoke. "Controls aren't responding!"

Carver growled as he bashed the control panel. "Dammit! We're dead in the water!"

"Heh, dead in the water." Bowman gave a quiet chuckle in an attempt to hide his anxiety. Carver glared at him behind his helmet.

"Dammit, Bowman! Not the time!" He would have given him a proper reprimand were it not for the engine of the tank whirring back to life, followed by its lights and systems. It seemed as if nothing happened at all, though the exterior holofeeds were still booting up, displaying 'LOADING'. Confused, Carver tapped at his controls and saw that everything was in working order. "What." He said, tonelessly.

"Uh..." Fields agreed, looking around, his feed also booting up.

And then the feed finally finished syncing, and the eyes of each crewman nearly burst out of their helmets.

Because they were no longer in a storm, or a battle, or even a war-torn clearing. No, they were in a forest with trees of red and orange, with great lakes and water bodies and rivers everywhere. The golden gleams of a sun at dawn shone through the leaves, basking the forest floor in a magnificent amber glow. It was a sight to behold indeed, and the crew of the Rolling Thunder would have basked in the forest's natural beauty were it not for the fact that they were at a complete loss for words. Carver, being the man with a plan, was the first to break the silence.

"What the fuck."

The other tankers couldn't agree more, and they each shook themselves out of their stupor.

"WHAT?!" Bowman all but yelled, blinking and shaking his head as if to snap himself out of a dream.

"What the hell?!" Fields cycled and refreshed his visual feed, only to get the same result every single time.

Sensing the rising panic, Carver raised his voice. "Dammit, people! Calm down! We've got the solve this in a perfectly rational fashion."

The crew obliged and sank back into their seats.

Carver took a breath. "Alright. First, we've got to find out where we are." He tapped the tank's holographic console. "Wait, what's not right." He rapidly began to type in a series of commands, becoming increasingly desperate. "Goddammit! I can't get a signal! I have no idea where we are!" He sounded absolutely exasperated.

"So what do we do now?" Fields asked, nervous.

The Rolling Thunder's commander took a breath. "I don't know. Just... drive. Forward!"

And so the tank did, driving forwards to... wherever. It flattened bushes and uprooted trees under its metal tracks as it continued to wander aimlessly, before eventually coming to a stop in a clearing besides a gurgling stream.

​​Violetta stared at the stars scattered across the sky-all that remained of Sister Star, who'd shattered herself to pieces for her love of Brother Desert. Would Violetta do the same for Pippa? She thought that she would, if the circumstances called for it.

Violetta thought of all the stories, myths, and legends surrounding the goddesses. She knew more about their universe than even some of the Alumnallen priests, which she found to be rather ironic. She was technically considered less than human through the Almerintian system of belief, after all. Funny how she should know more about it than some of its most devout practitioners. But Violetta had spent ten years of her life all but locked away in the basement of a library, and there hadn't been much to do other than reading.

And read she did-everything from little-known mathematical theories to ancient scrolls detailing the creation of the world. It was in these very scrolls that Violetta discovered some of the most obscure stories and beliefs concerning the goddesses and Almerinte, though there was no way to confirm the veracity of them. Violetta found these stories to be the most interesting. One of the most notable stories was about how, in a time long-forgotten by even time itself, Brother Desert tried to claim the world for himself.

Legend said that after he'd been banished to the Wastelands for attempting to steal Mother Moon's valuable crown, but before he created humans in a failed attempt to plague the goddesses and Mother Nature and Father Earth, Brother Desert tried to claim the world for himself. The stories told of how plants withered and died at his touch, of how animals fled from his malevolent presence, of how his anger created violent sandstorms that raged for weeks on end. According to the stories, the wrath of Brother Desert repelled everything that the goddesses set at him-he was not hurt by scorching rays of sun, he could tolerate frigid cold, and howling winds did nothing but make him angrier. In the end, Brother Desert was victorious-for a time. He'd managed to transform all of Almerinte into a giant wasteland, but he hadn't counted on his sisters, the four goddesses of the four realms, approaching the elusive Empress.

That was what the ancient texts referred to her as-simply the Empress. From Violetta's understanding, the Empress could give and take life at will. According to the legend, the four goddesses beseeched the Empress to restore life to Almerinte, only to have her spurn them scornfully, telling them that they were perfectly capable of doing so themselves (Violetta thought that Pippa was remarkably similar to the Empress in this aspect). And so, the goddesses returned to Almerinte, and with the help of Mother Nature, Father Earth, Sister Sea, and Brother Sky, began anew. Father Earth laid down mud and mountain once again, and Lativia sowed the seeds as Mother Nature breathed life into them. Sister Sea filled the clouds of Brother Sky with rain as Ver'lya raised trees out of the soil and Scarletta ran through them, leaving a whole host of animals in her wake. Ophelia froze the lands of the north and Ver'lya shined the sun down on the lands of the south and Scarletta painted the trees red and gold and Lativia created fields of wildflowers, and all was right again.

Upon having his plans thwarted, Brother Desert retreated to the Wastelands, leaving with only one warning-that he would return, and he would return when the goddesses least expected it. Some accounts say that he fled beyond Almerinte to the realm of the likes of the Empress, joining the dangerous Lady Luck and Catastrophe in a land that was not governed by the laws of Mother Nature or Lord Time. Other accounts tell of his continuing presence in the Wastelands, where he preys on anyone bold enough to trespass into his realm.

Whatever the case was, one thing was for sure; Brother Desert was gone, his power severely diminished. And now, his creations, the humans, ruled the realms he had once tried to take over, worshipping his sisters. None of the priests that Violetta had encountered ever mentioned anything about Brother Desert's short-lived rule of Almerinte, so Violetta was unsure if that had actually happened, but nevertheless, it made for an interesting tale.

Other mentions of figures such as the Empress, Eternity, Catastrophe, Lady Luck, Lord Time, the Lady of Light, and the Lord of Darkness were few and far in-between. Violetta understood that most of the Almerintians dismissed them as the fanciful imaginings of their ancestors. Violetta thought that there could possibly be merit in the stories, but it was not her place to say so. Even after ten years, many members of the Alumnallen nobility could not accept the fact that a half-blood lived and worked amongst them in the running of the realm. Imagine what they would say when the aforementioned half-blood came out and directly challenged their ages-old beliefs of their world and their goddesses!

Violetta was startled from her musings by the sound of falling trees. What in the name of Father Sun and Mother Moon... thought Violetta, scrambling to her feet as she peered into the darkness, unable to discern anything save for the fuzzy outlines of trees simply toppling over. She listened closely, and she then she heard something else-it was a strange, peculiar sound that reminded Violetta of the sound of gears turning, except for considerably amplified. And it was getting closer.

Scarletta save me, Violetta thought, fear freezing her to the spot. She scrambled into the relative safety of the forest behind her, peering cautiously in the direction of the tremendous noise from behind a particularly large tree. She knew she should run back to the castle, behind the tall stone walls, but some sort of morbid curiosity kept her from going anywhere. Despite her fear, Violetta was interested in seeing what was capable of producing such a sound.

She got her answer as a hulking shadow crunched over the last of the trees, and the thing came to a stop just before the small stream that cut across the clearing. Violetta's eyes widened at the sight. It was made out of a metal that sort of resembled Itervian armor, though it was much duller than the shining steel of armor. It seemed to move on wheels encased in...something. As a whole, it was shaped like...like a four-legged animal with large feet and a small torso.

Violetta had never seen anything like it.

She let out a small gasp and took a step backwards, her palms slick with sweat. Violetta was on the verge of turning on her heel and fleeing for the castle when a fierce gust of wind almost knocked her over. The wind screamed, coming up from behind Violetta and blowing her skirts every which way. Violetta stumbled, grabbing hold to the tree she was standing behind. Leaves of red and gold and brown swirled through the air, some of them settling on the metal of the thing beside the stream.

The wind eventually settled down after a minute or so, and Violetta winced and caught her footing once again. If the Alumnallen belief that the wind is created by Scarletta running through the trees is true, then it must mean that she is here with us right now, Violetta thought to herself in an effort to assuage her fears. Scarletta save us all. What is that?