• The city was in flames.

    Thick black smoke blotted out the cheerful face of the sun and made the wretched air difficult to breathe. Orange tongues of fire greedily lapped at the tarnished walls of once-proud buildings, gutting them out completely and causing several to collapse into ruin. Hundreds of large, insect-like vessels soared through the blackened skies loosing white spheres of energy from their underbellies, obliterating entire sections of the city into nothing but ash. Blood-curdling screams of terror and anguish from dying innocents drifted into the air alongside their spirits, accompanying them into the next life.

    Surrounded by the destruction and chaos stood the Grand Palace of Carval Qualtun, Emperor of the Clevlon Empire. Its beautiful columns and walkways were once the crown jewel of the flourishing civilization, now littered with bodies and slick with blood as a result of many failed assaults. The High Guard, genetically-enhanced soldiers tasked with the safety of the Emperor himself, were the Palace’s only line of defense, and with each wave of attackers more and more of them fell. It was only a matter of time before they were overwhelmed and brutally slaughtered, for their enemies were not known for their mercy.

    Rylon Greer, Third Commander of the Clevlon High Guard, watched with muted satisfaction as the last alien warrior of the recent attack wave was cut down in a hail of blue plasma fire. Even with his enhanced endurance, Rylon could start to feel the heavy weight of fatigue come to rest upon his shoulders, the realization that they were fighting a losing battle. The surface of his gray and blue colored armor was covered with both the greenish blood of his enemies, and the deep red of those brothers-in-arms he had seen ruthlessly killed upon the battlefield. The Lancer Pulse Rifle he held in his gloved hands was nearing the end of its last charge conduit, not enough to last through another onslaught.

    He heard a slight movement off to his left, feeling the presence of another High Guard move in beside him a moment later. “Sir,” a quivering young man’s voice said quietly over the helmet-mounted comlink, “I…I don’t know how much more of this I can take…sir.”

    Under normal circumstances, Rylon would have berated him for such a statement; but the boy was just a Conscript, not even a full year out of the Academy, and had never seen war like this before or much less fought in one. Besides, these were hardly normal times to begin with. Rylon placed a reassuring hand on the Conscript’s shoulder pad and studied him through the T-visor of his helmet. “You must stay vigilant, Zal.” He told him, “When the Junai come again, concentrate solely on survival. Everything depends on it.”

    Zal hesitated before nodding his understanding and returning to his station. The Junai, a race of green-skinned, bipedal aliens, had been the scourge of the galaxy and sworn enemies of the Empire for as long as Rylon could remember. Countless worlds had been destroyed and billions of people had literally been consumed by the monstrous horde, until finally only the Clevlon home world, D’al, remained. The bloodbath began in space as what was left of the Imperial Fleet tried desperately to hold off the Junai advance, buying time for the evacuation ships to escape. The feeble defense was easily sliced into ribbons by the enemy armada, and those who remained on the surface were subject to the unbridled wrath of the Junai war machine. The Emperor had insisted that he be the last one to leave, wanting to be sure all the remaining survivors were safe. Many good Guardsmen had been slain protecting a ruler who considered others before himself, and Rylon knew they wouldn’t have it any other way.

    “Sir, I’ve got multiple contacts headed our way.” Another Guardsman, Captain Motni Prit, informed, “They’re coming again!”

    “Rodger.” Rylon replied. He primed his rifle once more and yelled, “Prepare to fire!”

    The six High Guard soldiers who still remained standing all trained their weapons in the direction of the stone steps before them. Several tense seconds passed before the first few Junai warriors appeared over the lip of the stairs, and then, all mayhem broke loose.