Agent047
patreon
908 - Mobilization
🕑 Added 2025-05-13 21:53:13 +0000 UTC“For anyone who witnesses injustice and atrocities taking place, there are four paths he can take,” Dreznor’s voice echoed through the parade ground, calm yet heavy with conviction. Before him stood a massive formation of soldiers, rigid in attention, their eyes locked on him with reverence and resolve.
“He can hate what’s happening but say nothing. He can speak out against it. He can take action against it. Or ” his tone sharpened, “he can join in and try to benefit from the suffering.”
A charged silence followed as his gaze swept across the gathered ranks.
“So, what are you going to do when you witness atrocities? Are you going to just stand there and watch it happen?”
“NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!” they roared in unison, voices thunderous.
“Are you going to speak out against it?”
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!” they bellowed again, louder.
“Are you going to do something about it?”
“YEEEEEEEEEEEEES!!!!” they shouted, their voices shaking the air.
“Good,” Dreznor said, his voice firm, eyes burning with conviction. “This is the kind of army I would be proud to bring into battle against those who commit atrocities. An army I can trust to guard my back. An army that will be remembered in history, for your sacrifice, your resolve, and your refusal to turn a blind eye just because you are not the one suffering.”
He paused, letting the silence weigh heavily on their hearts before continuing.
“Today marks the second step in our vow to take action, to keep our promise, and to liberate those on the receiving end of this cruelty. We will not stop until the Conclave abolishes all forms of slavery and indentured servitude. Until they uphold universal rights that no one, not even the powerful, can trample. Until their governments are restrained from excessive brutality and no longer allowed to erase entire civilizations just because they lost a war.”
A wave of raw energy surged through the soldiers.
“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH!!” They roared as one, their voices filled with shared fury and hope.
“No longer will we live in fear that our civilization might disappear overnight, turned into slaves, our people treated as property. No more shall we bow to arrogant tyrants, protected by the shadow of stronger civilizations.”
His voice rose.
“We will not stop until our demands are met!”
“YES!!!!!!!!!!”
“We will keep moving forward until they have no choice but to take us seriously!”
“YES!!!!!!!!!!”
“If our sacrifice is what it takes to build a future where our descendants can live free, then may we die a thousand deaths, for every head they take, two more shall rise!”
“May we die a thousand deaths! May we die a thousand deaths! May we die a thousand deaths!”
The chant thundered from their throats like a storm, rolling across the base, the mountains, the skies.
On that day, every citizen of Zypharion watched, eyes wide, skin prickling with goosebumps, as their army prepared to carry this message to the Conclave in the one language all tyrants understand: Violence.
“We will not stop until we either reach our goal, or none of us are left standing,” Dreznor declared, his voice unwavering, eyes locked with those of his soldiers. “And that includes me. I will be with you through every step of this mission. If we are to go extinct, then we will die together.”
He raised his voice one last time.
“May we return glorious, or never return at all!”
“May we return glorious or never return at all!” The soldiers roared back in perfect unison. Without hesitation, they turned and began moving in formation, like clockwork, each unit breaking away into preassigned directions.
The sky began to darken. Not from clouds, but from the thousands of ships descending from orbit, blackening the heavens as they arrived in waves. They had come to collect the soldiers, men and women who had completed their training, taken their final vacations with their families, and were now ready for war. Ready to fight for the ideals they had come to hold sacred.
Dreznor stood in silence, watching as over twenty million soldiers boarded the ships, battalion by battalion.
He let out a slow breath. “What did the Conclave do to the Empire… to drive it this far?”
Only days ago, the promised reinforcements had arrived. The specs of the ships were enough to make even him uneasy. And that was before he realised just how many there were. Even with his current twenty million troops, they had filled less than twenty percent of the fleet.
The Empire had sent him enough vessels to field an army of over a hundred million soldiers.
And with them, twenty wormhole-capable warships.
But that wasn’t the most shocking part. Accompanying the fleet had been a detailed starmap, an encrypted dataset with absolute coordinates of nearly half the weakly defended star systems within the Conclave’s outer territories.
Systems ripe for the taking. They hadn’t just given him a fleet. They’d handed him the blueprint of an invasion.
And now the wheels of that invasion were turning.
{That’s not something I’m permitted to answer just yet.} The little protagonist responded with a soft chuckle. She knew Dreznor’s question had been an expression of disbelief rather than a genuine inquiry.
With the boarding schedule having been meticulously planned in advance, and every soldier knowing exactly where to be at what time, it took only two hours for the entire mobilized force to be stationed in orbit, ready and waiting.
Dreznor himself remained on Zypharion with a million-strong force. His task now was twofold: to defend the planet, and to coordinate the simultaneous offensives across dozens of star systems.
Standing at the command center, he spoke with calm determination, broadcasting to all ships: “For the liberation of all those who are oppressed.”
The moment the words reached the fleets, the twenty wormhole-capable warships activated. One by one, they tore open space, forming twenty shimmering wormholes, each linked to a different star system.
With practiced precision, the fully staffed 20% of the fleet surged forward, vanishing into the folds of space. The wormholes sealed behind them like silent doors, leaving only the ships that created them behind.
Dreznor stared at the emptiness left in their wake. “Our three-year timer starts now,” he said, watching the wormholes seal shut behind the departing fleets.
That was the window they had to accomplish their mission, the maximum time the Empire could stall the Conclave’s inevitable requests to open wormholes to the captured planets under the guise of 'liberation.' By then, they needed to be in a position where their demands had to be met. If not, the Conclave would teeter on the brink of civil war, an outcome neither Dreznor nor the Terran Empire wished to see.
Comments
GripenSupremacy
TYFTC
Sol_Invictus(Hail the Terran Empire)
TYFTC!!
