Hrynkak quietly entered his father’s room. He had been afforded the best medical care available and the most comfortable room that could be arranged. It was all a kind gesture, but the former king was dying, succumbing to the internal injuries he sustained when the Astralbians attacked his encampment.

“Tell me, son,” said the old Hrudukite. “Do you believe in this Progenitor your cousin speaks so much about?”

“Yes, I suppose I do,” said Hrynkak, sitting on a small chair that sat by his father’s bed.

“Suppose, eh?” said Zrykyk with a coughing chuckle.

“I do,” said Hrynkak more assertively. “He sent Rehkna as a prophet, the travelers as a sign, and rain as a gift.”

Zrykyk nodded, grimacing with the effort. His strength was ebbing away rapidly. “Good. A king needs conviction. My people–those who were once my people–are in good hands.”

“And you, Father?” asked Hrynkak. “What do you believe?”

“I stopped believing in the gods years ago,” said Zrykyk, frowning. His eyelids fluttered shut, never to open again. “I learned that they did not listen or act, so far as I could tell, and they were best used as tools to control the masses.

“Though the specter of death changes one's perspective. My losing the throne was for the best. I have watched my son be a better king to my people than I ever was and a better son to me than I ever deserved. I believe this… Progenitor is watching over you, and now I must throw myself at his mercies, in hopes of a better life… to follow… this one.”

With those final words, Zrykyk heaved a final sigh and died. Hrynkak hung his head, weeping over his father’s body.

***

Crush watched in awe as her fleet descended from the skies to land in the purple field that had become the basecamp for the core mine. Over a dozen ships of various shapes and sizes lined up across the field, though it would have been more impressive if every ship in the fleet didn’t look ready to fall apart before the first stiff breeze. She hadn’t felt up to the task of leading her rag-tag band of mutinous former pirates before she had learned that they were to be the saviors of their mysterious homeworld; now she felt more inadequate for the task than ever.

The Liberty landed first, and Tank and Hacksaw leapt overboard to the ground the moment they could.

“Admiral!” shouted Tank in amused excitement. “Your little joke is over! Now, tell us what’s really going on here.”

“I don’t think any of it was a joke, Tank,” said Hacksaw, pointing to a crowd of urchin-like Astralbians, one of whom was carrying a freshly unearthed core.

"I- what?" said Tank, utterly confused. "This is… actually our homeworld?"

"It looks that way, Tank," said Crush. "We'll be helping mine cores out of the mountain behind me and, if the local's prophecies are true, we're going to see them through some tough times in the near future."

"Robots don't go in for prophecies," said Hacksaw.

"We may be changing on that front," said Crush. "Or I for one may be, at least."

A crowd of Astralbians was gathering around the disembarking Robots, shaking, chiming and humming loudly.

"Our adoring fans," said Crush with an air of amusement.

Tank looked at them in confusion.

"Hello," said one of the strange creatures in a voice that rang like a bell. A chorus of "hello's" rose up from the gathered crowd.

"They've been trying to learn Talpaertan," explained Crush.

"So this is what the Astralbians used to look like," said Hacksaw. "Strange."

"Yes," Yrinla said. "Though it's worth noting that we could all change back in a generation. When an Astralbian couple has a child, it begins life as a seed gem. The gem must be put in a nest of special stones, which forms the basic body structure of the child. Many of the details are intrinsic to the individual, but tree priests found ways to form a more humanoid body, which became fashionable during the early years of the empire."

"Kind of like how Robots are built around a core," said Tank, nodding.

"Yes," said Yrinla. "Though I admit I am not very familiar with that process."

"At first, Humans just stuck cores into whatever machinery they wanted to be intelligent," said Hacksaw. "But there's a lot of information in a core, if you know how to read it. The smiths say the metal all but lines itself up when they’re building a core its body.”

“Interesting,” said Yrinla. “That lines up with much of what the local Astralbians have to say about how the Coreborn were built, though they have lost much of the knowledge over the centuries. Evidently no Coreborn has been seen since the tree priests fled.”

“Just point me to the dig site, Admiral,” said Slag as he walked down the ramp and approached the group.

“Officer Slag, I’m happy to be able to put you and your crew’s skills to good use,” said Crush. She pointed up the hill towards the mountain top. “The dig site is through the forest, that way.”

“If you don’t mind, I’d like to take a team up to survey the area immediately,” said the eager miner. Recently liberated from a kind of indentured servitude to the People’s Interplanetary Cooperative, Slag and his crew of miners was happy to get back to their trade, though this time for a fair wage and a good cause.

“Not at all, go right on up,” said Crush with a nod. “In fact, I’ll come with you. Captain Tank, Captain Hacksaw, please settle the rest of the crew in. Yrinla, will you stay as a translator?”

“Happily,” answered the tree priestess.

Crush nodded to her and went to help the mining crew gather some surveying equipment into a cargo skiff. Life had taken a strange direction since her mutiny, but she felt more and more that it was the right one.

If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement.

***

The PIC forces on the small, rocky world that formerly housed the Free Revolutionary Fleet simply weren't prepared for a full scale attack. A pity, thought Grim.

His fleet of Ramshackle Collective ships, their solar sails towering menacingly above, descended on the small base camp, guns blazing. The PIC fired back, but their artillery was no match for the sheer numbers Grim had at his command.

Xanthous Brotherhood troopers rocketed up to the gunships, taking to the decks and gunning down a number of Collective soldiers. After the initial shock, the Grim's pirates regrouped and fell on the troopers.

A flurry of violence followed, and Grim was alarmed by the sheer volume of oil and mechanical parts that flew through the air. However, the mass of Robots eventually overcame the raw strength of the troopers, and they began to fall under the guns, axes, and cutlasses that rained down on them.

One tenacious trooper managed to crawl away from the mass and stood up, lurching towards Grim with an energized ax lifted overhead. Grim pulled his high-caliber pistol and fired a single shot through the trooper’s cracked visor, and the ax dropped to the ground behind him before he fell over dead.

Grim looked over the fleet and saw similar scenarios playing out across the open decks. He was losing higher numbers than the other side, but he had the numbers to lose. They did not. Once the last of the Xanthous Brotherhood unit was destroyed, the fleet turned its attention to the poorly-guarded PIC compound below.

Between the air raid and the destruction of their most elite unit, the compound was in utter disarray. By the time the last of the pirates had disembarked, the battle was all but over. Grim walked through the flames, surveying the carnage for survivors.

He heard a cough and turned his head to the sound suddenly, like a predator zeroing in on its prey. Walking over, he picked the badly wounded soldier up by the collar, lifting him off the ground so that his feet dangled.

“The FRF,” he said, voice heavy with menace. “Where did they go?”

***

A week later, though it seemed like only moments had passed, the Wingspan was aetherbound, this time alongside the Silver Star Fleet. Jasken was happy the time on Kirakna had gone swiftly, and it was likely to be the last easy week for the foreseeable future.

Hrynkak had hardily agreed to ally with the Griffon Republic in the war against the Empire, and everything had moved towards sending the fleet to war from that point onward.

The jump path from Kirakna to Hruduk was now well-traveled, and the travel shields took very little damage on the way out. The fleet rendezvoused a fair distance from Hruduk's orbit, ready to engage with the enemy at a moment's notice.

Hrynkak had a station on the bridge, and Mairen helped him reach out to the insurgent forces he left behind.

"Hello?" said Hrynkak tentatively into the microphone.

"King Hrynkak!?" cried a voice from the other end.

The two spoke back and forth in rapid fire Hrudukite.

"They say that Gred is now occupied by a sizable force of Astralbians, and that it is being used as a depot and logistics base for the enemy," summarized Hrynkak. "They say the Astralbians have spent their time planting trees in some kind of orchard."

"They're growing more star trees," said Jasken. "Are they heavily guarded?"

Hrynkak spoke to his soldiers again.

"No," said Hrynkak. "The guards around the facility are more or less a token force. My men have not engaged, but runners have been sent to the other city states and a sizable network of fighters has been organized."

"That will fit well into Admiral Drai's strategy," said Jasken. "He’s asked me to coordinate a ground assault as well as engage in the coming naval battle."

“I will be joining the ground assault team,” said Hrynkak.

“I know you won’t agree,” said Jasken with a sigh, “but I have to stress one final time that the Republic advises against your going clayside for this battle.”

“You’re right, Admiral,” said Hrynkak. “I don’t agree. If a battle for my city is to be fought in my city, I will be there for it.”

Jasken nodded. “As you will, your Highness.”

“Hugger mines, coming from the direction of the planet,” said Mairen. “I’m getting confirmation from Admiral Drai’s people aboard the Pinion.”

“All carriers, this is Admiral Drai,” said the Admiral over the multi-fleet comm channel. “Scramble fighters to engage with incoming hostiles.”

Moments later Drixen and his squads were aetherborne along with the fighter craft of the Silver Star Fleet, calling out targets and destroying the hugger mines before they made it to the fleet. The carriers and gunships aided in the assault, quickly knocking down the first wave. In addition to the flagship carrier the Pinion, the fleet consisted of a second carrier, the Syrinx, three gunships, the Falchion, the Pick, and the Pommel, and three additional support craft, the Mason, the Drover, and the Usher. All of the ships were armed to the teeth and made short work of the mines.

A second wave followed, this time with units of void wasps mixed in with the mines, and eye beams from distant star trees. The shots that landed barely dented the shields, but Jasken was far more concerned about what would follow. The small trees would undoubtedly be joined by larger ones, most likely including at least one mother tree. A part of him hoped for a rematch with the lord who’d claimed the Halberd.

“Admiral Jasken,” said Admiral Drai. “The Astralbians are engaged with the main fleet. Is your ground assault team assembled?”

“Yes, Admiral,” replied Jasken. “We’ve coordinated with the local forces and plan to take back the city of Gred. The final members of the team are assembling in the Gladius. They should be able to slip away quietly now that the mines are destroyed and the manned Astralbian ships are still a considerable distance away.”

***

Aboard the Gladius, Talon Squad, Grepk’s Marines, Kwa-Kwa and her scouts, and King Hrynkak himself were settled in and ready to disconnect from the Wingspan and begin their assault.

“All right folks,” said Grepk. “We’re going to be coming in hot. Reclan will be piloting so that I can jump out with Keshri and Krum-Bahk to spread the pain as far as possible in our initial assault. After we’ve taken out as much Astralbian infrastructure as possible, we’re out on foot to take the city back as intact as possible. Let’s make these guys pay for what they’ve done to us.”

A hearty cheer rang out and the elite band of warriors began making final preparations for the assault.

***

Settled comfortably on Gateway, Jylik stood behind his desk in the command room of his mother tree, looking over another series of reports. Reports, reports, reports. Thus far being an Emperor had lacked the glory of which he’d dreamed. It was early goings, though. Once he had established control over the Cornucopia Cluster he would be able to rest a little easier and savor his power a little more.

In truth, he owed more than he’d like to admit to Trilia. She had encouraged him to kill his father and gave him the means to do it. He wondered where she was now. She had gone to establish the Empire on Koomia, but he hadn’t heard from her in some time.

“Glorious Emperor,” said a nasally voice over the comms, interrupting his thoughts. “The Republic has attacked our position over Hruduk. The mines were not as effective this time, though they claimed a few fighters.”

“Of course, they were prepared this time,” answered Jylik. “I told you your strategy was easily countered, Riylak.”

“Yes, sir,” replied Riylak.

“Now destroy these interlopers. No prisoners. No mercy. Remember, they declared war on us.”