Eyewitness account of the first battle of the failed S1-conquest, figuratively translated
“Privates, take arms!” They all heard him; they all obeyed. From everywhere came the sounds of metal against metal, feet marching, and hoarsely hushed whispers. “Now, we must be swift, but overall, silent. Surprise’ll be ours,” came the voice again. “They’d outnumber us in a fair fight, but I don’t plan this to be one. Kill everyone you meet, but for him. You all know who I’m talking about.” There was venom in his voice, and he spat upon the ground.
He continued. “He’s mine. You can keep any loot you find, but everyone must die. Remember, no blasting, no braining, no explosions today: for all who disobey, your rank will be halved.” There was a very long silence. “Only use your stabbers. They’ll be enough.”
They formed ranks and waited in hushed dejection. Minutes went by. Then hours. One of the new soldiers watched as they traveled through the black void of space. Their ship was small, fast and sleek; the darkness crushed down on them from all sides. The dull metallic lights on the ship were off, and had been for days: a radar deflector protected them from unwanted eyes. The stars, tiny splatters of light, zoomed past them, small, cold, and very far away.
They were traveling faster than he liked, the distant stars barely-visible scratches, lightly etched into the deep night. He guessed they were at warp factor 7, four levels out of his comfort zone. He wished he’d never been recruited and tried to think of his family: but they were already fading away.
They were almost there, quickly decelerating, although at their current speed they could be a couple light years away. Their captain strode down his ship, inspecting his soldiers. When he got to the lonely soldier, he asked, “do’ya have your needle?”
From a small leather pouch he wore on his back, the soldier pulled his out. It was very long, the tip a razor sharp piece of cold, slimy metal: blood stained, slightly bent from use. It resembled the medical type, only several times larger, and made of thick steel. The sickly green liquid it held bubbled slightly, fogging the small glass window.
“Good’, said the captain, ‘remember, use nothin’ else. Our only hope is catchin ‘em off guard. We’re outnumbered, but they’ll be out maneuvered. Fight well—don’t fail me!” He walked off, leaving the man to his silent gloom.
Unaware—and still a few parsecs off—lay their destination. It was sleek like their ship, but many times longer. Made from costly materials and surrounded by a brilliantly hot cloud of seething plasma, it was rightfully filled with the most valiant passengers. It was the Kings Warpship.
He was a kind, gentle king, who ruled with a stern but righteous hand. He was crossing the far edge of his galaxy, and although was traveling many times faster than the speed of light, he still had three more years of traveling.
The king was finally content. As he sat in his throne with his wife beside him, he bounced a young boy on his knee. The boy could hardly have been much older than nine months, for he was still bald. He was the prince.
The King was getting older; he’d longed for a son for many years. Then, a year ago on the ship, the queen had become pregnant. Not that long afterwards, the boy was born. Now the King had a son to take his place when he became too old to rule. The king was about to comment to his wife about how well the voyage was going, when the lights went out. The ship shook; the king, still holding the queens hand, was thrown from his seat onto the floor. All there were puller forwards. The prince, held in his father's hands, screamed in fright. In the darkness, the utter, complete darkness, wild screams could be heard.
Some minutes before, the soldier’d strained his eyes at a spot of purple that hadn’t been there a moment before. He fingered his needle, his first battle just in view, waiting as the spot grew bigger and bigger until he could see it clearly. And inside was the battleground.
The commander gave one last speech. “Put on you cloaks! After we breach ‘em—yes you!—turn on the Grav. Others, wear your blue boots, or you’ll be stuck suckers! “
“Messorem, we’re in range! FIRE!”
The King should have guessed. But they had come too soon. A screen on the wall flickered code red-black-yellow. His face paled at the sight of those colors, legendary as a bringer of defeat. Anti-matter rays! Their Plasma field would soon be compromised.
However, he still had some time before it fell. And he did not waste a second.
The soldier pulled on his cloak, and watched as the others followed suit, disappearing into the shadows of the ship. He faintly heard the Anti-rays hitting the plasma shield, exploding in tiny bursts of light and energy, which subsided just in-time for the next onslaught.
The Plasma field was quickly destroyed, leaving only the electromagnetic-field, which the ship pushed through, although this destroyed their own weaker shield. Then the A-grav was set, and a bubble of air and gravity jumped between the two ships. But not normal earth gravity.
However, it was some time before the ship itself was breached. The antimatter had been cut, and a weaker beam slowly burned a hole just big enough to get through, the Captain aiming to use the ship after it was taken-over. After this was done, a retractable tube stretched between the ships, fitting into the hole.
The soldier marched along the grey tube, beside others of his rank, fear gripping his chest. He prayed to the god he didn’t believe in, hoping it wasn’t too late. The men beside him didn’t look at him, so he kept marching, although the way long, maybe three miles of plodding in the thin air. He would see his family again, his heart told him. He had to. He just had too. But his brain new otherwise
The enemy attacked during the confusion, their boots keeping them immune from the intense gravity, allowing them to jab every last man and woman with their merciless needles. The green liquid acted like spider venom, except faster, more efficient; above all, cheaper, painless. One needle contained enough liquid to poison a small gathering. The foes had a much greater chance of winning, although they were outnumbered forty to one.
The captain watched from his invisible ship, the light distorted by a standard material found on most war ships. He couldn’t see what his men were doing, but he could see their effects on the mob. He felt that this would be another sweet victory for him.
He walked across his ship, and jetpacked himself through the artificial atmosphere, heading towards the Kings chambers, where he thought to find the King.
Meanwhile, the King was running from his chambers as fast as he could, wearing a strange pair of blue boots. He held his son in a tight grip, knowing that there was no hope of winning this fight. Avoiding passengers, panic stricken yet mercilessly crushed to the deck, he ran to the escape pods.
The King was not trying to save himself, but his son. He ran to the nearest pod, and entered a lengthy set of coordinates, wrote a message on a piece of paper, then put the message and his son into the pod. He was sending his son to the home he’d never known, Xellian. That was when the captain arrived.
He was tall, visible again. He towered over the King, who looked up and blocked the entrance of the pod with his body. “It’s been a long time, comrade,” said the captain, in a voice of glee-tinted hate foundered in pain. The King withdrew a small sphere from his pocket, and held it out in front of him. It glowed silver, then fired a ball of energy the size of a small boulder, which engulfed the Captain. He was flung up and back for hundreds upon hundreds of feet before he stopped, only halfway along one of the long corridors that stretched the entire distance of the thin ship. The Captain smirked. “Is that all ya got?” he asked, in triumph. The King gasped.
The Captain was hovering in midair ten feet up, holding a green sphere the size of the Kings. A long arm of green energy stretched out from the sphere, forming a swirling ball at the end, three feet in diameter. He whipped it around his head, until it was a blur. He launched himself forward with his jetpack; midair, he slammed the King in the chest with the green ball. He slid to the ground with a moan against a wall, not far away. He looked up at the Captain, with a strange expression somewhere between fear, disbelief, and pity. “That was not made for you,” he said in a calm voice. “That was the symbol of all evil in this universe of ours. Even I don’t dare to use it. Put it back in my chambers, from which you stole it hence.” “ Never!” yelled the Captain. He smashed down on the King again. “I, have, waited, many, years, to, become, King!” With each word, he threw the King higher and harder into the air. The King crumpled into a heap on the ground. “And then, you go and have a son!” he bellowed. And with that, he stalked over to the screaming prince. “No...!” yelled the King. He dragged himself to his feet, and leaning against the wall, attacked the Captain with all his might.
The Captain looked up in time to see the King launch himself into the air, smash him aside, and close the pod with one hand. The pod rocketed into space, traveling at horrible speeds. The Captain yelled in fury, but all in vain. The King, now above the Captain in mid back flip, blasted the Captain and a chunk of the ship, the size of a house, out into space. The king was blown backwards by the artificial gravity. The explosion rocked the ship, making everyone stop fleeing to look around in confusion. That was minus the Captain's men, who poisoning the last people standing (rather squatting, you could say). There was only a small circle of a hundred men left. The Captain screamed, and flailed crazily.
He finally got himself into a controlled position, and took the King by surprise. Flinging himself farther out into space, he pulled a small laser cannon out of his shirt. Disobeying his own orders, blasted a glowing column of red lasers toward the King. He was hit in the back, as was still upside-down in the air
The King cried out in pain, and went limp. The blast knocked him against a wall, and he rebounded into space. However, he was protected better than even the Captain had thought, and was not blown apart. Even so, he was not daunted. He flew, via his jetpack, and came up close to the king, smiling cruelly. “So long, uncle,” he said. “This was mine.” He reached for the sphere.
But the King was not dead yet. He whipped around, and threw the sphere far out into space. For the second time, the Captain yelled in fury. He lunged for the sphere, but it was already outside of his grasp, traveling in the direction of the escape pod. He snarled, and turned to the King. “I will return!” he yelled. He gave one last laser-cannon fire; and with that, lifted up his hand in a strange gesture. There was a sound like the universe shivering, and the fabric of space-time was torn in two. The Captain had done this with the snap of his wrist. What he’d made was not quite a black hole or wormhole. He leaped into it, was distorted for a brief second, and disappeared.
A strange point should be noted. The pod containing the prince suddenly changed direction, and flew back toward the King. It came close to him, but before the King noticed it, it entered the wormhole, on the opposite side the Captain had taken. It also disappeared from sight.
The King floated around for a few more minutes, getting farther and farther away from his ship. He was bleeding from several wounds, and struggled to breathe in the artificial atmosphere of the ship. And then, he too disappeared. The King, though, did vanish. There was some way he’d done it, but it was his secret
Several months later:
A couple was walking along the beach. It was a crisp day, and not many people were . They were looking for shells, when they heard a noise like a thousand pieces of paper being torn, and smelled a strong burning. They looked up, and saw something streak across the sky. “What in the world...?” began the man. “Hush!’ said his wife, ‘this was amazing!” And it was. It was like a shooting star, but much too big and much too close. They both realized at once that it was going to crash into the ocean, right in front of them! They ran back up the beach, but had hardly gotten a hundred yards when whatever-it-was landed in the ocean. Well, landed was not quiet a strong enough word. More like bombarded. Huge waves splashed upwards, and steam hissed and enveloped everything with a thicker fog than had already been swirling along the beach. The couple shielded their eyes, and waited for things to settle down. After five minutes or so, the water calmed down, and the steam blew away on a cold northern breeze.
They could see that a circular pod was floating in the water, four hundred yards out to sea. It was made of a strange carbon like material, which seemed to be glowing. The man decided to go investigate.
After a word with his wife, he pulled off his shirt and shoes, dived into the water. It was icy cold, and made him sputter and shiver. After swimming most of the way there, he took a breather. He wondered what he’d find when he got to the pod: an alien, a big diamond, or a large rock?
But when he got there, he was disappointed. The pod was as smooth as glass, and there seemed to be no door anywhere. He touched it, worried that it would be scorching hot. It was so cold he’d to stick his hands in the chilly water to warm them up. But it only took one touch to open the pod. The man gasped when he saw what was in inside.
Inside lay a little baby boy, and a piece of paper. It was a little wet, but it could be read with only a little trouble. It stated in a strong but messy cursive the following:
Keep this boy safe at all costs. Don’t tell him he was the son of his father, who was quit powerful, yet might be dead by now. Take him in as your own son, and treat him kindly. Don’t be surprised if I return to find him, or if he disappears without saying goodbye. If he truly was like me, he’ll be an interesting child.
Thanking you kindly,
The man was startled, but accepted the strange note and the baby in a calm way. He stroked the baby's head, and pushed the pod back to shore, conscious not to splash the prince with any of the cold and salty water.
 This will be the only footnote in this chapter, leaving the confusing information to be explained later on.