Sharkos stood watching the galaxies that lighted what he heard was called ‘the sky’. For light-years beyond counting they had been travelling through time and space. In his home planet, Sharkos had gathered all the kingdoms in a long and terrible war and sailed an armada of thousands of warships to the Milky Way.
Saturn had fought valiantly, their ring systems a powerful defense even against the greatest army the galaxies had ever known, but in the end even them, like the other seven, had to surrender. Mars fought with guerilla companies, and in the end Sharkos had merely ordered the destruction of all their bases and to move on, destroying the planet in doing so. Necessary losses he had thought as he felt the battleship rook under the force of Mars blowing up.
Before him was assembled all his captains and generals. Sharkos had chosen them all himself, loyalists most, others for alliances. Former kings and sons of mere common men, they were all there. Stout and proud peoples of Gorgolia, similar to the humans, though ten feet tall, where the frontmost of his men both in the council and in the battles. Their battlecruisers – Glory and Supremacy – sailed faster and fired harder than any other ships in his flotilla. Beside them, the riders from the steppes stood. Whenever his battleships had battered the futile defenses any enemy laid before him, Sharkos sent in the riders to clear the road for his heavy troops. They rode great beast which breathed fire, devastating any unknowing enemy. Even Sharkos – though he would not admit it – feared the mighty steeds his shocktroops had taken to war. Sharkos himself was from the lands of Hormor, feared and revered for their looks and supreme fighting skills. Sharkos’ face was filled with scars, earned through hard warring and not like to fade. His torso and arms were ripped with muscle, the results of many a brawl and training. Wearing the traditional cloth of the Hormorians around his waist and moving his gaze from space and into the bridge of his battleship, Sharkos pondered on the unexpected silence. For two weeks they had been sitting waiting, without purpose, and the soldiers had grown restless and homesick. Each council they had pleaded to go home, or attack. Now, however, the bridge was silent as a grave.
Suddenly, one spoke up. “My lord Sharkos, you must decide. It is an easy prey it is, easier than any we have ever seen.” The captain of the Supremacy said. “Who wants to fight for, let alone die for, a king who will only sit on his arse? My king, you must act. Whatever your decision is, I and my men will follow you. You know this.”
Sharkos turned to face the planet opposing him. Colored in green and blue where Mars had been all dusty red, it was beautiful. The costs of war, he thought.
“Attack!”
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