Page 54 of Possessed By the Dragon Alien
“No,” he said honestly. “But I’m sure that trying is better than living under the Axis forever.”
Through the viewport, he could see more ships arriving. Vessels were carrying people who’d decided that freedom was worth fighting for. Worth dying for, if necessary.
The rebellion had become something neither he nor the other Zaruxian brothers had expected. It had become an army. And armies, he knew from his time as a high chancellor, could accomplish impossible things when they had something to believe in.
He watched a group of converted mining haulers maneuver past a squadron of the warlord’s battle craft. Their crews coordinated with the efficiency of people who’d found a common cause.
Thiswas what the Axis had always feared. Not any single enemy, but the idea that their scattered, oppressed subjects might one day unite against them.
“Come on,” he said to Nena, taking her hand. “Let’s go help plan the liberation of our homeworlds.”
As they walked toward the strategy chamber, Madrian allowed himself one moment to appreciate the strangeness of his situation. A few cycles ago, he’d been High Chancellor Madrian of the Axis, one of the most powerful beings in the galaxy. Now he was a rebel, preparing to assault the very seat of power he’d once served.
The change should have terrified him. Instead, as Nena’s fingers intertwined with his and the sound of determined voicesfilled the corridors around them, Madrian found that he’d never felt more certain of his purpose.
The storm was gathering. And when it broke, the galaxy would never be the same.
TWENTY-FOUR
The stars stopped stretching. Reality snapped back into focus as the rebel fleet dropped out of space fold at the edge of the Zarux system. Madrian gripped the railing of the fortress ship’s command deck, his wings spreading involuntarily as the viewports revealed what lay ahead.
Home.
The word hit him like a physical blow. Through the reinforced transparent surface, Zarux hung in space like a blue-green jewel. But it wasn’t the ancient world of his people anymore. Gleaming metal towers rose where a sacred Zaruxian city once stood. The Axis had built their seat of power directly on top of his birthright.
“Fekkingbastards,” Razion growled from beside him. “Look what they did to our world.”
Madrian said nothing. Couldn’t speak past the rage building in his chest. Dragon fire scalded his throat as he stared at the planet that should be a thriving home for the Zaruxian people. Instead of the sacred groves where his parents had walked, Axis Central existed.
They’d turned Zarux into a monument to conquest. They’d laid utter waste to Teria, which was on the other side ofthe star both planets orbited. It was far from this fight, thankfully. Restoring that planet, which he’d only known of as a designation, would take longer and be harder than Zarux, but they would do it. First, they needed to end the Axis’ rule.
Madrian had a feeling in the pit of his gut thatthatwould be harder than anyone thought.
“All ships, this is Command,” Ellion said from beside Madrian on the command deck, into the fleet comm. “Begin final approach. Remember the plan.”
“Everyone’s standing by,” said Fivra from the sub-command deck, one level above them.
The Terian mates of the Zaruxian brothers were up there and would be taking over command of the fortress ship when the “plan” was implemented. Madrian wished Nena was down here with himnow. His thoughts were clearer and his feelings were more grounded when she was by his side. He needed to only look at her to feel peace, and that wasnotwhat he felt then, on that command deck looking at what they were facing.
Around them, forty-three vessels—the final number that had arrived—began moving toward the planet in formation. It took a little time for the ships to recover from space fold, so luckily they had some element of surprise going for them, and a few modifications had decreased recovery time to a minimum. Converted mining haulers flanked sleek pirate ships. Reinforced agricultural transports flew alongside Dokkol freighters. The sight should have been chaotic, but Madrian noted the surprising coordination.
These people had learned to work together. United by something the Axis had never understood.
“Rien, sensor report,” he called.
The pale prime watcher bent over her displays. “Initial scans show standard defensive positioning. Four dreadnoughts in highorbit. Twelve destroyer-class vessels patrolling the outer system. Energy dome at full power.”
Madrian frowned. “Only four dreadnoughts?”
“That’s what the sensors show. Theyhavererouted, and are incoming.”
Something cold settled in his stomach. Intelligence reports had indicated at least eight capital ships defending Central. Where were the others?
“Sir,” called one of Stavian’s former miners from the tactical station. “We’re receiving hails from the Axis fleet.”
“Ignore them,” Madrian said. “They’re just trying to delay. Begin the attack.”
The first wave hit with devastating precision. Madrian watched the display as Vedd’s pirate ships streaked past the Axis destroyer screen. Their weapons tore into hulls that hadn’t expected such coordinated resistance. Meanwhile, the Dokkol vessels absorbed return fire that would have crippled lesser ships. Their thick, alloy-reinforced hulls shrugged off energy blasts.
