Agent047
patreon
955 - The Brutality of War
🕑 Added 2025-08-04 23:02:11 +0000 UTCIt took only five minutes for John and Athena to return, but for them and the entire planning division, it had been a months-long, continuous project. In their time-accelerated instance, they had planned, run simulations to find flaws, returned to the drawing board, and refined the plan repeatedly. They did their best to minimize potential mistakes, and though the enemy's human element made them unpredictable, they worked tirelessly to account for every possible variable.
“So this is what it takes to pull off a rescue operation,” Aron said. He had finished assimilating the plan and found it sound. It incorporated the vast trove of information they had gathered from Dreznor’s possessions of war after taking over the star systems and collecting their information and VR, allowing them to predict many of the enemy's potential moves and counter them in advance.
“Yes. We have to conduct them all at once,” John explained. “ They are already using their people who are on the inside to try and retake the control of the space stations, and the moment they realize what we’re doing, they will move to destroy entire space stations if they feel they're losing their leverage.”
The plan was to contact the trapped citizens on the captured space stations and direct them to specific rally points. Then, wormholes would open simultaneously in all those locations for an immediate mass evacuation, completed before the enemy could realize what was happening and mount a counter-attack.
The only problem was the sheer scale of the operation. The rescue had to be conducted on over fifty-seven thousand separate space stations. The biggest headache was the Nexus itself, where over a hundred thousand imperial citizens were now barricaded in various sections of the colossal structure.
“Okay. Go ahead with it,” Aron said, giving his approval. He knew the preparations would take nearly two hours, which felt dangerously long. With so many captured stations, the Conclave wouldn't just act as wardens forever. They would try to consolidate their prisoners. While waiting for that might seem tactically sound, there was nothing to stop the Conclave forces from slaughtering half the hostages if they resisted during the process.
……………………
Nexus.
“Please, open the door! I beg you!” a woman screamed, her voice raw from shouting. Her hands were bloody from clawing and banging at the reinforced glass section of the door, trying desperately to pry it open and get to the other side.
On that other side, her fellow humans watched, their faces masks of shame, guilt, and fear. None of them moved to help. They couldn't. Behind the begging woman, a mob of Conclave civilians, a mix of species, had her cornered. They brandished pieces of metal and other makeshift weapons, watching her struggle with predatory amusement. The blood already smeared on their weapons and the motionless human bodies lying on the floor showed this was not their first kill.
When the Conclave seized the Nexus, they had given their citizens free rein to do whatever they wanted to the humans trapped inside. These civilians, among them construction workers, official representatives of the process, and government loyalists, saw the humans as enemies. With the station's AI keeping it in lockdown and preventing the Conclave military from establishing full control, the mob took matters into their own hands. For those who enjoyed lynching, it was a holiday.
{I repeat: All imperial citizens are under the protection of the empire. All who harm them will face the full wrath and retaliation of the empire,} an AI announcement boomed from the speakers, cycling through different languages to ensure everyone understood the consequences.
The Conclave mob ignored it. The message had been repeating since the start, and they dismissed it as an empty threat.
“Arghhhhhh!” the woman shrieked as a hulking Hurai worker grabbed her by the hair and dragged her back into the crowd.
THWACK! THWACK! THWACK!
The sickening sound of metal striking flesh echoed, punctuated by maniacal laughter. The woman's screams faded, then went silent forever as her skull caved in.
On the other side of the door, the captive humans watched in horror. They felt anger at the atrocity, shame at their helplessness, guilt for being mere spectators, and a sickening tinge of relief that it wasn't them.
The mob's depravity didn't end with her death. They tore off her clothes and began defiling her body, committing unspeakable acts.
All of this was being transmitted live to the empire's central command center, which was monitoring and cataloging everything that was happening so that the empire could fulfill its promise of retaliation. Thousands of similar situations were unfolding across the captured space stations. The Conclave was using the brutality of its civilians as a weapon, a terror tactic designed to force the remaining pockets of resistance into surrender.
But not all humans were victims. In some corners of the captured stations, they were fighting back.
“Please! We were just following the orders we were given by the Conclave! You know what they're like! If we don't do as they say, they'll retaliate against our families!” a Bogomar scrambled backward, pleading with the human before him.
But the man’s furious expression showed that the alien's begging was making no dent in his resolve.
Beside the man lay seven motionless bodies, a mix of different Conclave species. They had made the mistake of attacking him. They had found him alone, not yet at a designated evacuation point, and saw an opportunity, a chance to kill a human without repercussion, a brutal freedom they had only just been granted that they had realised a few months ago that the slave owners had had since forever.
“That is not my concern,” the man said, his hands turning dark black. “You killed our people. A blood debt can only be repaid with blood. So die knowing that even your death won't be enough to repay the debt you've incurred.”
He advanced on the begging Bogomar, raising his hands as if to clap. The alien, thinking his pleading had bought him a moment, scrambled to turn and run.
CLAP!
The sound wave hit the Bogomar like a physical blow. For a heartbeat, he froze, his eyes wide and blank. Then, blood erupted from his eyes, nose, and ears, and he collapsed to the deck, his life extinguished instantly.
Without a backward glance, the man continued on. His route had been modified; he was now a rescuer, tasked with clearing a path for other humans who hadn't yet reached safety. With each step, his pace quickened. The sound of his boots striking the deck grew louder, a percussive rhythm that seemed to propel him forward, lengthening his stride until he was covering vast distances with each powerful bound.
Comments
Sol_Invictus(Hail the Terran Empire)
In new Terran Empire they are called "Human Rights" for a reason
GripenSupremacy
TYFTC
