Sirus felt like he’d gone back in time. Back to when he’d been alone and angry at the universe. Before he’d ever gotten to know Joslynn the way he did now and not as some countess who worked with his family on occasion.

As he stood on Command watching the fleet with a practiced eye he knew he was no longer the same person thanks to her – his fiancée and the mother of his future child. Sirus had never felt anything like he had when she’d told him the news.

But he also had an irrational fear and the urge to drop everything to be by her side. His protective instincts were constantly roaring at him to go to her – to protect his future offspring and the love of his life.

That was not the warrior’s way. He had taken an oath to protect his people, to protect the Draga Galaxy, and he was going to keep it no matter how he felt personally.

The last three days had been utter torture, only able to communicate with Joslynn twice a day. And the farther they got from each other the more delayed the signal was, but it was better than nothing. Because after hearing about the attack on Pedranus he’d been in a panic, but he’d been able to get ahold of Joslynn not much later and she’d assured him all was fine, they’d made it to the core.

The pirates turned privateers had come through after all and were protecting all the evacuees they could. It was not something Sirus would have thought possible after his time on the border, but it looked like Princess Adelina had been right to make the gamble, and for the sake of his future wife’s life and that of their unborn child he would be eternally grateful.

“Lord Sirus we are approaching Scyrian space,” the captain informed him.

His older brother Peter came and stood by his side.

They’d been estranged for so long it was odd to have him standing next to him, staring at their home planet. As the middle child Peter would do best at court, making sure Scyria wasn’t forgotten while their eldest brother, Anatoly, prepared to rule from their planet. Sirus had never been needed at home, and when his eldest brother had married the issue of more heirs was no longer a concern.

His mother let him be after what had happened all those cycles ago when he’d lost his eye. She never once mentioned marriage, only asked that he sent her a cast at least once a week. Now his mother, Countess Malaya, was ready to hand over the reins and retire since Elena, Anatoly’s wife, became pregnant. She was due any week now.

“How long has it been since you’ve been back?” Sirus asked Peter. He couldn’t remember the last time Peter had visited.

His older brother frowned. “Too long.”

Sirus pulled up the holo reports from his console and checked the fleet once more. Prince Asher and Lady Veri were on Asher’s flagship, leading the Priea forces. Ajax was on his own ship, and then there was Prince William and Lord Lucas with the Avvis general. Billions of fighters were ready to fight and die for the Draga Galaxy.

The fleet would stop just for the day to make sure Scyria finished their evacuations and then they would move on to Treon and Seprilles, set up their camps there and do what they could for the planets – maybe even get some repairs done after they’d salvaged any and all ships and weapons.

The Neprijat could be anywhere. But Sirus would find them and hunt them down. Every single one of them until they could push the attack forward, driving them back to their homeworld – wherever that was.

Satisfied with their progress and the fleet’s position, Sirus sent out a vid-cast to his mother. Within seconds she’d accepted his request and her smiling face popped up before him. She glanced at Peter, surprised to see him.

“My boys, it’s good to see you again. Peter, it’s been so long.”

“I’m sorry I haven’t made it home, Mother. Time passes differently on the capitol.”

Countess Malaya’s smile grew sad, but she nodded. “Of course, Peter. I’m just glad to see you. Will either of you be landing planet-side?”

Peter glanced at Sirus, deferring to him in this instance. He supposed they had the time though it was off mission. Perhaps if he turned it into part of his orders…

“We could come down and assist with the remaining evacuations,” Sirus said. “It will be lovely to see you again, Countess Malaya.”

“Don’t be so formal, Sirus. Just get down here so I can congratulate you properly on your engagement.”

He smiled then. Neither he nor his mother ever thought he’d be able to settle down with someone, but Joslynn had eased the pain left over from his capture – smoothing the invisible scars until they no longer hurt the same way. She’d done so much for him – Sirus would spend the rest of his life finding new ways to thank her.

“Why aren’t you in a starship?” Sirus asked. “What about Anatoly and Elena? She needs to be as safe as possible.”

The scoff his mother gave him set off his nerves. Elena most of all needed to be safely in a starship with a physician nearby, watching her for signs of labor. She was so close to the end of the long pregnancy, this evacuation would no doubt be hardest on her.

“Mother, please tell me Elena is already on her way to Priea.”

“Sirus, you know us better than that. We’re not soft like they are in the core. We’re staying until all of our people are on ships and evacuated. We are here to protect them with half our forces. The other half is already on their way with the first wave of evacuees…”

His mother trailed off and frowned, looking up at something he couldn’t see.

Then an alarm on his console went off and Sirus pulled it up, feeling the panic inside flare as he feared the worst. An explosion he could see from the ship confirmed it.

“We’re under attack. You boys get your asses down here and help us get everyone out before it’s too late.” His mother was suddenly the stern countess some said was heartless behind her back, but she was a vicious warrior through and through – she was forged in the burning cold of Scyria, made to survive and protect. Then she ended the transmission without even a goodbye.

Peter grabbed his arm, panicking. “What do we do, Sirus?”

“We follow her command,” he gritted out, flipping through every display and report on his console as he tried to figure out what was attacking his homeworld, though he suspected he already knew. “Captain, get us down there and send out a warning to the rest of the flagships. Find out what is attacking Scyria. Nothing is showing up on my scans.”

“Right away, Lord Sirus.”

Shouts and the crew scrambling became background noise as he looked out the massive viewer and saw more explosions. Most would survive the exposure to the extreme cold. They’d been born on Scyria after all. They were all warriors of some kind or another, but he’d seen what those monsters could do. And once the battlefield was softened the Neprijat would come in and take what was left.

He refused to allow that.

Sirus shut down his console and left Command. He took the quickest route down to the massive hangar where every warrior and pilot suited up.

“Sirus, I haven’t been in actual battle for cycles,” Peter protested, following after him.

His older brother’s weakness had always disgusted him. It wasn’t physical weakness, but a lack of will and fight. He had no urge to protect what was his which was the real reason their mother had sent him off to court, hoping the drive for power and favor would work in their benefit there.

Sirus stopped and gripped his brother’s shoulder hard enough to hurt. “If you cannot stomach a battle then get your ass in a fighter ship, but you are not staying here to wring your hands and do nothing. That is your family down there, your future niece. Grow a pair and suit up.”

He left him and grabbed one of the thousands of suits of armor Princess Adelina had commissioned. The spidersilk armor was light, but he’d seen it tested. It would withstand almost anything. Sirus stepped into it and tapped the Draga seal on his chest. The suit shrunk to fit him perfectly, each plate molded to his body for ease of movement.

Then he moved down the line with the rest of the warriors and grabbed a variety of weapons. He had no need to direct his warriors. Each and every one knew what was required of them. The starship banked hard and they descended to the atmosphere with so much speed it was like slamming into a wall.

“Get ready for the drop!” Sirus roared.

Peter came up beside him, wearing his own armor. Sirus nodded. “If you still favor a mecha I have a few extra over there.” He pointed at the massive machines with warriors climbing up and into them.

They were about the size of a fighter, but were best for the ground. The mechanized arms and legs were an extension of the warrior, but caused a thousand times more damage including bigger and better weapons. They were the best of Sirus’s contingents and would mow through the Neprijat creatures. Fighters would be able to provide air support, and then the remaining warriors on the ground could deal with the actual Neprijat and assist the rest of the evacuees.

The alarm went off as they approached the surface. The Warrior’s Curse wouldn’t land, but it would skim the surface, flying right over the family seat so they could all descend onto the battlefield. One of their best maneuvers.

Sirus took his position at the head of his infantry and watched his brother grab a mecha. “One minute!”

Another alarm went off and he activated the display on his arm and the armor popped up the holos for the systems he was connected to. Sirus checked his warriors and the squad leaders nodded in affirmation. He tapped the command on his arm and the bottom of the ship slid open, revealing Scyria below them.

He watched as the warriors, mechas, and fighters deployed. Peter was ready to go and waited while Sirus activated his helmet. They’d trained together cycles ago, but it was like no time had passed at all when they dropped down to the surface together.

The armor cushioned Sirus’s landing and his knees bent to distribute the weight. The familiar gravity and location was like a balm on his soul, but in the same breath he felt only dread. From the surface he could see the Neprijat’s pets. They were like a plague as they skittered over everything, those eyeless oblong heads so incredibly disturbing.

It was like being on Treon all over again, but this time they had the numbers to actually do something more than try to stay alive. Sirus only hoped they weren’t too late. He pushed out orders to each squad and legion and took command of two mechas other than Peter and a small squad of warriors.

“We need to check the seat and get the heir and Elena to safety first. The rest of our forces will clear the way for the evacuations.”

“Lord Sirus, Veri and I are heading to the surface to provide backup. The rest of the fleet will protect the evacuation in the skies,” Prince Asher informed him over the fleet channel. “May your hunt end in blood and victory.”

“As you command,” Sirus replied.

He led the foray into the madness and chaos.

They used blasters and plasma blades that cut through the monsters like stalks of grain. The mechas took swaths of them down in one hit and the screeches of death were music to Sirus’s ears.

He grinned and cut a path to the family seat, black blood and limbs and monstrous bodies littered the ground as he fought and killed his way to his family. Reports of ships successfully evacuating changed the battle. This was nothing like Treon.

This time Sirus knew what to expect, he knew what to do. Sirus knew he couldn’t be forced to do anything with that Neprijat persuasion while he had his helmet on and that made him nearly invincible. He ripped the head off one monster and cut through the next. Then he spun and beheaded two more.

Sirus was a whirling dance of death as they made their way through the city streets. So few of his people remained, most had retreated to starships or the seat where the shield could protect them, but Sirus didn’t know what kind of tech the Neprijat had.

Who knew if the shields could even keep them at bay?

This would be the test. The shield had worked before, but that was generations ago. Advancement in tech happened every day.

Sirus grunted as a monster managed to pounce on him before he could get his weapon up. His back slammed into the ground and the snarling snout snapped at his helmet but he managed to grab it by the jaws as the spidersilk armor held up under the claws and weight.

With a roar he thrust his plasma blade up and into the beast’s chest. Its yelp told him he’d hit his mark as it slumped over.

The closer they got to the seat the more of the monsters there were. They were thick among the streets and it was slow going.

“I need air support,” Sirus called out as he took a step back to protect the rear with Peter. “There are too many of them. We need someone to clear a path.”

“I am on my way, Sirus,” Veri said over the fleet-cast. “I’m coming down to the surface with a squadron of fighters. We’ll clear the way and then mop up the remaining creatures once you get to the seat on foot.”

Veri had suited up to help his planet herself. She was bloodthirsty and aching to fight. He grinned as he looked up to see her fly overhead, raining fire on the monsters. His squad took cover and they waited it out as screeches wailed and rose through the smoke.

“Get down there Veri, I’m right behind you with another legion,” Asher said over the fleet-cast. “We need to make sure none are left while Scyria finishes the evacuations.”

Sirus and his men moved forward, taking out those who still survived. Some were twitching or crawling as they burned alive. It was a mercy to put them out of their misery. Then they double-timed it to the seat, taking the cleared, direct path even if it was longer than some of the shortcuts he knew.

What worried him more than anything was the shield around the seat hadn’t been activated and no one was picking up the cast he kept sending out. Anatoly, Elena, and his mother could be too busy to answer, but the silence made his mouth dry as ash.

“Sirus,” Peter said over the fleet-cast. “I have a bad feeling about this.”

He didn’t reply, but he agreed with his brother. Something was wrong. Sirus rested his blaster over his arm, his plasma sword across his forearm as a shield. The mechas clomped along, the pistons making too much noise in Sirus’s opinion, but the destruction they wrought was invaluable.

His squad was silent the rest of the way to the family seat. The gates were sealed, but not shielded. Sirus tapped his wrist and his glove slid back to reveal his hand. He pressed his palm against the gate and the moment it recognized his prints and DNA the gate creaked open, revealing the empty inner courtyard.

Not even one of the Neprijat beasts was there, only bodies littered the floor. Some were the creatures and some his people. Sirus recognized a few, but when he noticed one of the guardsmen he stopped looking. They needed to find the last starship and get it off the ground with the remaining survivors.

“Keep your eyes peeled. We don’t want to run into an ambush,” Sirus murmured over the cast.

Peter stayed close as they entered the aboveground seat meant for business and events. Snow fell through the crack in the domes and the silence was eerie. The creatures had gone to ground. Only the occasional screech and snarl as other legions hunted them down and ended them.

The screech of fighters overhead canvassing the area broke through, startling a few of the warriors. Sirus ignored the mistake and stepped inside his family seat.

Claws tried to rip the helmet from his face and he dodged just in time. Sirus fired as it seemed like thousands of the creatures poured from the dark hallways. It was all he could do to keep from drowning in them as one of his warriors screamed, disappearing under a pile of them.

“Peter, use whatever you have to but tear them to shreds! We have no air support here.” Sirus sliced through three different heads in one swing, keeping his back to the mecha his brother controlled.

Flames burst from one mecha arm and cannon fire from the other. It made a dent, but the creatures seemed to come from everywhere.

“We need back up!” Sirus yelled, kicking one away and slicing through another, firing as rapidly as possible. He killed three more while he reloaded his blaster and ended up pressed up against Peter’s mecha.

Warriors died right and left, but at least the two other mechas were still standing.

Then a familiar war cry came from farther in the seat. One Sirus recognized. His mother was a flurry of plasma swords. She jumped over snarling fangs and claws, tossing small grenades into the thickest grouping of beasts.

They burst like an infection and still more came from the shadows.

Behind her Anatoly raged and fired his automatic blaster, the energy pulses about the size of an average male’s head. Other Scyrian warriors came from the halls, converging on the massive foyer and Sirus still didn’t know how they would last until the fleet warriors came to assist.

He spun and sliced and fired and kept the creatures off his brother’s mecha and it became a rhythm as he worked. The killing silence took over him and he bared his teeth as he ripped one from his back and tossed it against the wall, firing twice in that oblong head, already stabbing a second.

Then his heart stopped when he saw Elena in her own mecha, pushing through more of the monsters. Sirus snarled and leapt onto his brother’s back. “Protect her; get her to the ship if you can.”

“Sirus, we’re about to land. Just hold on a little longer,” Veri said over the cast.

“Get her out of here!” Sirus roared, his protective instincts turning everything red and he killed five more without even blinking. He leapt from the mecha and let out a pulse wave of raw energy. The twenty around him flattened instantly, dying when they were crushed against the stone like the oversized bugs they were.

Peter made a run for Elena the same moment Anatoly saw her. Their eldest brother went white as a sheet and then his back arched, claws poking through his chest, but he sliced through the arm and kept fighting.

Hundreds more of the monsters poured into the seat. Sirus breathed hard and sent another request for backup. He would take them all down with him if he had to. None would be left alive after he was through.