"Elders, how was the trip?" I greeted the elders stepping off the warship.
"Not bad. Seen only in dreams before—now real. For our descendants, we must protect these worlds, not wreck them like Earth. The cosmos is vast, but there's no retreat," Elder Wu (former premier) sighed.
"Elder Wu's right. Good thing I've got plans, or you'd scold me, heh," I teased.
"You! Still sore about me calling out your womanizing? I'm too old for your tricks," Elder Wu chuckled.
"You love it—say one thing, think another. Scared of the missus?" Elder Wu's fear of his wife was legendary. Rejuvenated, she watched him like a hawk. At banquets, she was ever-present, and he never switched dance partners from start to finish. He wouldn't dare.
"Fine, you win," Elder Wu waved, conceding.
"You're back just in time. I was about to send for you. We're holding a joint exercise this week for the expedition legions to tighten coordination. Thoughts?" I asked.
"Good idea. Which legions are going?" Elder Liu (the old fox minister) inquired.
"I'm sending the elite Palace Guard Legion, plus Gold, Silver, Red, Purple, and Green Dragon Legions—six total. What do you think?" I listed.
"We don't know their numbers. Isn't that rash?" an elder cautioned.
"We've interrogated captives. They deployed a quarter of their fleet last time—about 300 ships. With their scarce resources, they've likely just recovered to pre-war levels. Our six legions, nearly six million troops and over 800,000 warships, should suffice," I explained.
"This is our first off-world campaign. We must be cautious and decisive. Add two more legions—safer with a million warships," Elder Wu mused.
"Fine, we'll pull two reserve legions," I offered.
"Take regular legions," Elder Liu insisted, wary.
"Alright, alright, done. You treat me like a kid," I huffed, half-annoyed. Their doting was… ugh, sweat.
"All legions, exercise begins!" Xue'er's command rang out. Red and Blue Legions clashed, victory by surrender or flagship capture. Gold and Silver Legions, each leading three teams, faced off for three days, followed by a day's rest before departure. Space warfare, enhanced by armaments, echoed ancient battles but felt practical now.
Along and A-Bao, knowing each other inside out, stalemated for three days. Surprisingly, their armaments battled fiercely, with Along's side barely winning. A-Bao, unconvinced, bet on who'd kill most enemies in the real fight.
Meanwhile, in Pandora System's main star, Pandora Palace, a four-armed, three-eyed creature in opulent robes stood in the main hall, brow furrowed.
"Anla'e, can't we attack yet?" The figure behind was Marshal Anla'e, who'd retreated from Sky Dragon System. His deep connections and past merits spared him harsh punishment—just a few months' docked pay.
"No, Your Majesty. Attacking now isn't wise. We know little about them—only their strength and tactics. Nothing else," Anla'e advised.
"What, let it slide? Sixty million soldiers died by their hands! Pandora's warriors, the cosmos' bravest, can't perish to such treacherous beasts!" Emperor Dodoka Mengqi roared from his throne, smashing his goblet. "Anla'e, besides border defenses, how many troops do we have?"
"Your Majesty, our total force is three million warships. Guarding against Kamet and suppressing system rebels leaves us under two million for an unknown civilization," Anla'e said grimly. Since stepping into the cosmos, Pandora conquered its system but clashed with Kamet, Second Cosmos' powerhouse. Kamet's inept commander and border skirmishes saved the fledgling empire from annihilation.
Both sides maintained a tense standoff—small clashes every three days, big ones every four. Kamet's border commander, the idiot's brother, was sharper but bound by orders, limiting him to raids that still cost Pandora warships. To fuel wars, Pandora's resources were nearly tapped out. In a decade, they'd be gone, with population survival at risk. Anla'e realized Kamet's strategy: bleed Pandora's fleet, spark an arms race, and cripple its economy. A single system's resources couldn't sustain it. Rebels, backed by Kamet, worsened the chaos. Damn them.
Desperate, the empire eyed the uncharted, primal Milky Way. Who'd expect such a ferocious fleet? Unknown before—if they'd passed other civilizations, Pandora would've heard. Unlogical. Little did Anla'e know, Feitian, busy with empire-building and Yanhuang potential, used a star map from a captured Pandora ship. If Anla'e knew this map led Feitian to their door, he'd spit blood.
"Only that few?" Dodoka's voice dripped with sorrow. A founding emperor, reduced to this?
"Your Majesty, our resources are near depletion. To maintain strength for intense wars, we can build three million more warships—then nothing," Anla'e answered honestly. This weary emperor wasn't incompetent; he'd led Pandora to conquer a vast system. Truth was best—Dodoka would choose wisely. Anla'e once didn't get it, but now, with internal strife and external threats, he did.
Why hadn't Kamet seized Pandora's system? With their might, it'd be easy. But Pandora was poor, strategically worthless—a perfect chaotic buffer. Kamet invaded only when Pandora grew strong, sowing discord. Cunning, vile—worse than those beasts.
"Any other options?" Dodoka broke the silence, snapping Anla'e from thought. "Ways to solve our resource crisis without fighting?"
Anla'e hadn't caught it, but Dodoka's patient tone—rare—showed shared worry. "None," Anla'e admitted. Pandora never had stability. Dodoka, a warlord, wasn't a peacemaker. War defined Pandora, sustained by conquest. Trading with Second Cosmos nations, via long detours, was a drop in the bucket—unsustainable. Invading this unknown civilization might be a sliver of hope.
How big? Even Anla'e, veteran of a thousand battles, couldn't gauge. Recalling the enemy's wrecked ship—its tech stumped Pandora's smug scientists. That defense, holding an hour under 10,000 warships, with one escaping? If Pandora had that, Kamet's edge would vanish. Hope flickered, but the enemy's mystery doused it. Their ship was just a scout, per Pompomla's tales of varied fleets.
Pompomla's loss twisted Anla'e's heart. A stellar general, gone. If I'd gone instead… His friend, Pompomla's father, drowned in grief. Anla'e bore the blame.
"No retreat. We might face a Kamet-level system—or worse. It's a coin toss, but any hope demands action. The empire's glory hinges on this," Dodoka declared, regal.
As they planned, urgent footsteps echoed. "Your Majesty, the enemy's here!" Major Sake burst in, the same who invaded Divine Realm Star. His panic irked Anla'e. "Calm down! What kind of soldier are you? Report clearly—what enemy? Where?"
Sake cursed inwardly. If not for your rank and the emperor, my dad would've ousted you. But he saluted. "Yes, Marshal. It's the barbaric race we fought."
"What?" Dodoka and Anla'e leapt up, shouting in unison. Sake's "barbaric race" was Sky Dragon Empire, branded beasts for their brutal tactics.
"Why didn't you say sooner?" Anla'e roared.
Sake nearly fainted. This old coot's battle-crazed. First, he's chewed out for demeanor, now for delay? When I'm in charge, you'll scrub my feet—or your granddaughter will. Adopting an Ah Q mindset, Sake calmed. Feet-washing's too creepy—stick to yours.
"How far are they?" Dodoka cut in. No time for bickering. Planning an attack, and the enemy arrives? Hunter and prey flipped. This foe echoed Dodoka's younger, reckless self—act first, damn the odds. Facing them, his fading fire reignited.
"Ten light-years from our first defense," Sake reported, clearing his throat.
"Let's go. Our prey's delivered itself—how can we not greet it?" Dodoka laughed, pulling Anla'e from the hall.
"Prey?" Sake paused, then got it. "Who's the prey? Too early to tell." A spoiled brat, Sake's talent shone. His first clash with the "barbarians" left the war's ferocity etched in him. Sky Dragon's debut was ruthless—forgivable for newbies. Fumbles, like hitting the wrong key in excitement, happen. Plus, beastmen's bloodthirsty nature, tamed post-unification, flared in battle. With no wars and even brawls policed, they cut loose. Those wolf howls? No wonder they seemed savage.
Poor Feitian, unaware that his "three-eyed four-armed freaks" (his nickname for Pandorans) saw him as barbaric too. He stood on a warship two light-years from Pandora's system.
"Your Majesty, why not strike now?" Meng Jiang asked, baffled. Parking the fleet to let the enemy regroup? That's not war—it's medieval nonsense.
"Easy," I soothed. Meng Jiang could be as rash as A-Lang or sly as a ghost. "Not urgent, you say?" he gaped, incredulous.
"We don't move, but others do," I smirked.
"Meaning?" He was frazzled but caught on. "You mean the others are in place?"
"Not bad, catching that. We're baiting them here for a clean sweep," I said.
"Don't flatter me—you tipped me off," he mumbled, scratching his head. "When'd you signal Along? I missed it."
"You were right beside me," I teased. Focus, man.
"Too hyped—only saw the enemy," he admitted, sheepish.
"They're moving," I announced. The enemy fleet formed ranks, advancing—perfect for a show of force. Just what I wanted.
"Along, ready? Hit them in the kill zone," I ordered.
"Boss, count on me," Along replied.
"Your Majesty, is this wise?" Anla'e felt a familiar unease from their last clash. He cautioned Dodoka as they stood before the palace's comm screen, tracking the enemy's slightly larger warships, linked to fleet commanders.
"Of course. They array but don't attack—a strongman's duel. As hosts, we can't look weak. Match their numbers for a fair fight," Dodoka said, eyes bloodshot. A challenge from inferiors? In Pandora, ancient traditions upheld such duels, even the crown couldn't meddle. Dodoka saw Feitian's formation as a call to single combat—logical.
"Have they changed? No way. Another sneak attack like last time?" Anla'e froze, then shouted, "No—retreat!"
Too late. Warships jumped in from nowhere, hammering the ambush zone. Trailing ships, unprepared, were obliterated.
Dodoka stared, dazed, then raged, "Damn beasts! Thinking I'd parley with animals?" In Sky Dragon's flagship, Feitian echoed, "Talk civilized with beasts?" Great minds think alike. But only one true hero exists.
Dodoka smashed ten goblets to quell his fury. Who could watch 200,000 warships vanish and stay calm? "Pull all ships to the second defense!" Pandora's terror campaigns halted that day.
Reader's Corner: Feitian's ambush crushed Pandora's fleet! Will Dodoka's rage spark a comeback, or is Sky Dragon's empire unstoppable? Drop your cosmic battle predictions in the comments—ignite this dragon war!