Immovable object against an Unstoppable force

Clouds of diamond dust billowed in the upper atmosphere, refracting the binary light of Cethea's twin suns into halos of frozen radiance. The shimmering airborne crystals clung to every surface like a mantle of powdered diamonds, save for the massive transparisteel dome arching over Arcadia - the last jewel of civilization on a ravaged world.

Angelic contrails lanced through that prismatic sky as twelve sleek aerial golems screamed overhead in tight delta formation. The airborne type dog mechas cut through the glittering archway of clouds, propelled by silent graviton drives buried within their streamlined titanium hulls.

Major Victoria Ren gripped the control pillar of her command golem tightly, eyes narrowed to mere slits behind her helmet. Forcing herself to breath the dry tank-oxygen in measured inhalations, she fought back the resurgent tides of grief and fury that threatened to drown her mind.

The last time she had seen Arcadia's glimmering diamond skyline, it was through a slit of reinforced transparisteel. She exhaled and steeled her resolve.

No. She couldn't afford to lose focus now, not with so much riding on their strike. The time for retribution had finally come, after all these years of plotting and gathering strength in the shadows.

"Major Victoria," the comms crackled with her strike-op commander's voice. "We are approaching final attack vector coordinates. All wings report weapons ready status."

With an infinitesimal head-motion, Victoria triggered her reply implant. "Leader to bridge, command lance is go for payload release."

Amber reticle-paths began populating her Heads Up Display, tracking data flowing between the strike fleet. While the rebels' intelligence 'ghosts' had slaved Arcadia's planetary defense systems to their overrides, there was no predicting what kind of counter-strike capability the fascist Ilagra still had hidden up their tailored sleeves.

Like vipers preparing to strike, the dozen D.O.G.s banked into individual attack vectors as they crested the stratospheric barrier. Slashing in from multiple approach angles, their flanks bristled with ordnance that could split continents if fully unleashed.

"Target the Automated defense first," Victoria ordered tightly. "I want those pesky turrets down before they reset.

The D.O.G.s screamed in like avenging angels, a class mass-drivers punching white-hot darts of fury down into the heart of Arcadia's gleaming central hab-com sectors. Transperi-steel shielding buckled under the raining explosions.

Nightmarish clouds of debris blossomed from the impacts zones like thunderheads of vengeance. Victoria banked her golem hard, streaking over the raging hell-winds of her opening barrage with a cold sense of satisfaction. Yes, burn you self-righteous fanatics!

An ominous crimson pulsation flooded her threat scopes a split-second before the first heavy counter-battery flak bursts erupted around them. The Ilagra had somehow managed to override the defense lockdowns faster than anticipated!

"Evasive maneuvers!" she barked. "Ana, I want firing solutions for those flak traces inside ten seconds or somebody is getting shot!"

"Working on it, working on it!" The rebel strike-leader's voice grated with effort. "They've reset their systems way faster than expected!"

Slamming her golem into a high-banked spiral as more of the city's defense grid flickered online, Victoria glimpsed the first enemy launching bays opening like hellmouths vomiting brimstone demons. Dark shapes arrowed up from the smoldering husk of the Contemplation Basilica, skeletal anti-aircraft wings sweeping apart in unmistakable acknowledgment of the rebel threat.

With a hateful bark of laughter, Victoria brought her Redeemer online and unleashed withering firepower. The white-hot payload raked across the launching bays, detonating those infernal interceptor-platforms in a string of fiery detonations.

"Whoo, finally awake are we?!" she snarled, swinging her sights towards another bank of emerging launch-tubes. "Hope you fascist loyalists are ready for the reckoning!"

Her D.O.G. banked and rolled with punishing ferocity, whiplash turns just ahead of the achingly near miss of more flak bursts. Victoria's jaw clamped down hard as the horizon itself appeared to shift in dizzying arcs.

"Warning," her suit's threat-response AI intoned in a synthetic hiss. "Power reserves down to 65% and dropping rapidly-"

"I don't care if I have to take the whole damn city down one launch bay at a time!" she snarled through gritted teeth. "The Ilagra must burn for what was done to Emily! Every last one of their cowardly slimebag ranks must burn!"

Ignoring the mounting proximity alerts stitching across her HUD, Victoria rolled towards a fresh bank of those hateful launch tubes and triggered her particle-beam cannons on tight repeating bursts. Hull-scouring sapphire lances of focused Cherenkov radiance chewed through the launch tubes' armored shutters like ethereal blowtorches, sabering those deadly interceptor nests into molten cross-sections.

A deafening crack like the fabric of reality itself being torn asunder resounded from somewhere behind her. Massive shockwave radiating outward as the nearest pillar starship gate simply...vaporized from its foundations up.

Caught in the concussive wake, Victoria's D.O.G. tumbled out of control as something huge and Cyclopean pierced the roiling smoke clouds. An impossibly monolithic shape like some eldritch seamount breaching the waves, bristling with terrifying armaments.

The rebel pilot's eyes blew wide behind her helmet. "Warp...that's a warp gate!!"

Without delay the ship that dropped in locked searing beam arrays onto her embattled fighter while simultaneously dropping two ground type dogs.

For a fraction of an instant Victoria considered signaling a retreat, cutting their losses and regrouping for another assault. But then images of Emily flooded back in all their screaming clarity - the screams and pleas she had been forced to live with every agonizing day since the torture. Since her light gave up her essence.

Flashes of her lifeless body caused her to grit her teeth once more. The rebel pilot jammed her thrusters to emergency flank and brought all batteries online in a singular salvo aimed at the heart of that unknown starship.

"We came to burn this city and break its masters!" she roared into the open comm-links to her scattered wings. "So burn it all!"

————————————————————————

The scorched wasteland of Cethea stretched out before Octavian Ilagra, a desolate expanse of twisted metal and shattered dreams. His fingers tightened around the control grips of his imposing DOG mech, the quadruped's armored frame shuddering with barely contained power.

"Charles," he growled into the comm-link, his voice a rasp of determination. "The rebels have deployed their ground-based dogs."

A burst of static crackled in response, followed by his younger brother's voice. "Yeah I see them. Those models look like they pack a mean punch."

Octavian's lips curled into a feral grin beneath his helmet. "Nothing we can't handle, little brother." With a subtle shift of his body, he felt the neural synchronization kick in, his thoughts translating into directives for the DOG's motor systems. The towering mech lurched forward, its articulated legs carrying it into the fray.

Beside him, Charles' own quadruped joined the advance, its cannon batteries swiveling to track the incoming rebel units. Though brothers, they were a well-oiled team on the battlefield, their sibling rivalry tempered by years of combat experience.

Octavian's hands danced across the auxiliary controls, his mind already calculating defensive vectors. "Focus your fire on the lead units," he ordered, his voice cutting through the din of weapons fire. "I'll draw their attention."

Without waiting for a response, he willed his DOG into a thundering gallop, the mech's reinforced legs pounding against the rubble-strewn wasteland. Plasma bursts erupted around him, the rebel dogs unleashing their fearsome payloads. But Octavian was a blur of motion, his body synced with the machine, guiding it through an intricate weave of evasive maneuvers.

"Wipe them out!" he snarled, his voice laced with a primal fury. "Leave none alive!"

With a roar, he brought the DOG's ionized blades to bear, cleaving through the armored hide of the nearest rebel unit. The rebel pilot's screams were drowned out by the sound of rending metal as Octavian's mech tore through their ranks, a whirlwind of destruction.

"Now, Charles!" he bellowed, his DOG whirling to face the next wave of enemies.

His brother's mech appeared like a vengeful spirit, its missile batteries unleashing a torrent of explosive payloads. The rebel dogs scattered, their formations broken by the onslaught. But Charles was relentless, his mind and body melded with the machine, unleashing a barrage of pinpoint strikes that crippled their foes.

Octavian grinned, his teeth bared in a victorious snarl. Together, they were an unstoppable force, their DOGs moving with fluid grace and lethal precision. Despite their usual rivalry, their bond on the battlefield was unbreakable, a seamless dance of death and destruction.

The rebel forces faltered, their once-formidable ranks reduced to smoldering wreckage. Octavian could taste victory, savored the metallic tang of their defeat.

But then, a new voice crackled over the open comm-link, cutting through the chaos like a knife.

"Checkmate, you bastards!"

Octavian's blood ran cold as he recognized the voice – Victoria, the rebel leader. His sensors picked up a new contact, a landed, stealth aerial DOG unit near the biodome's perimeter. And beside it, Victoria with only the protection of her mech's helmet and the unmistakable form of a TDM core module, its containment housing already compromised beside her.

"No..." he breathed, realizing the trap too late.

Victoria's voice was laced with grim determination. "This is the end for you all!"

Octavian could only watch in horror as the rebel leader raised her plasma pistol, taking aim at the exposed core module. With a single shot, she would unleash an unquenchable singularity, a growing gravity well that would consume everything in its path – including the biodome itself.

And as if that wasn't enough, a new threat emerged. Octavian's sensors picked up the rebel starship, its plasma cannons swiveling to bear on the biodome's defenses.

Trapped between the looming singularity and the starship's devastating firepower, Octavian felt a chill run down his spine. This was no longer a battle; it was an execution. And Victoria, in her final act of defiance, had played them all for fools.

With a heavy heart, Octavian opened a channel to his brother. "Charles, how much oxygen do you have left?"

His brother's voice was laced with resignation. "A couple hours."

Tightening his grip on the controls, Octavian steeled himself for the inevitable. As the plasma bolt streaked towards the core module, he could only utter a silent prayer – a plea for forgiveness, for he had failed to protect their sanctuary.

But then, the impossible happened.

The plasma bolt never struck its target. Instead, it seemed to glance off an invisible barrier, deflected harmlessly into the distance. Octavian's sensors were flooded with readings, picking up a surge of exotic particles and fluctuations in the local gravitational field.

And there, standing defiant amidst the chaos, with only environmental gear was Amara Ilagra, cousin to the patriarch of the ruling family. Her eyes burned with a fierce determination, her hand outstretched, fingers splayed as if manipulating the very fabric of reality itself.

"You underestimate us, rebel," she spat, her voice carrying across the battlefield radios like a thunderclap. "Did you truly believe we would be so ill-prepared?"

Victoria's scream of rage was drowned out by the roar of the rebel starship's plasma cannons, their devastating payloads slamming against the shimmering barrier that now enveloped the biodome. But the polarized energy shield held firm as Amara guided and gathered it to block the barrage of destructive light. Easily it deflected the destructive barrage.

Octavian could only watch in awe as his fathers cousin wove a tapestry of energy and exotic particles, an encapsulating matrix that rendered the tdm core harmless, its infantile gravitational pull neutralized by the intricate energy patterns.

In a matter of moments, Victoria's ultimate gambit had been thwarted, her revenge denied. The rebel leader's voice crackled over the comm-link, laced with a mixture of rage and anguish that cut Octavian to his core.

"You monsters! You tortured Emily until she had no choice but to take her own life! Do you have any idea what you've taken from me??!!"

But before Octavian could respond, the rebel leader swayed, her legs buckling. "I won't die to something as simple, as this!" She saved her balance at the last minute. "N..not until you Ilagra bastards…" But this bravado was short lived as she could no longer hold on and lost consciousness.

...…

The sterile confines of the medical facility felt suffocating, the air thick with the scent of antiseptics and the weight of unspoken tensions. Victoria lay motionless on the bio-bed, her eyes half-lidded and glazed, her breaths shallow and labored. Bandages covering most of her arms and legs. The torque exposure had taken its toll, leaving her battered and broken, a mere shadow of the defiant rebel leader she once was.

Octavian Ilagra stood vigil at her bedside, his imposing frame a stark contrast to the fragile figure before him. His features were etched with a mixture of curiosity and contempt, his dark eyes studying her with a calculating intensity. Beside him, Charles lingered, his presence a silent reminder of the unbreakable bond they shared, even in the face of such adversity.

In the periphery, Amara Ilagra watched over the proceedings, her gaze inscrutable behind her veil. There was something different about her and Octavian knew it however addressing her gay would come at a later date. Right now he had other things needing his attention.

Silence reigned, broken only by the faint beeping of the medical monitors and the rasp of Victoria's labored breaths. It was Octavian who finally broke the tension, his voice a low rumble that cut through the stillness like a knife.

"Speak, rebel," he commanded, his words laced with an undercurrent of impatience. "Your gambit has failed, and your forces lie in ruin. What could possibly drive you to such desperate measures?"

Victoria's eyes fluttered open, her gaze focusing on Octavian with a mixture of defiance and agony. For a moment, she seemed to gather her strength, her lips parting as if to speak. But then, a flicker of resolve ignited within her, and she clamped her mouth shut, her jaw set in a stubborn line.

"Release my people," she rasped, her voice little more than a whisper. "Let the survivors go, and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

Octavian's eyes narrowed, his features hardening into a mask of contempt. "You are in no position to make demands, rebel scum," he spat, his words dripping with venom.

Beside him, Charles shifted uneasily, his eyes darting between his brother and the defiant woman on the bio-bed. Even he could sense the undercurrents of emotion swirling beneath the surface, the unspoken history that bound these adversaries together in a tangled web of pain and resentment.

Victoria's gaze never wavered, her eyes burning with an intensity that belied her fragile state. "Then you'll never know," she whispered, her voice laced with a bitter resignation. "You'll never understand the depths of my pain, the agony that drives me to seek your annihilation."

Octavian's fists clenched at his sides, his knuckles whitening with the force of his grip. "Who is Emily?" he growled, his patience wearing thin.

Victoria's lips twisted into a mirthless smile, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. "Emily," she breathed, the name falling from her lips like a prayer. "Do you know what it's like to hold the love of your life in your arms, to feel her warmth fade as the life drains from her body?"

A ripple of unease passed through the room, the weight of her words hanging heavy in the air. Even Amara seemed to stiffen, her gaze fixed intently on the rebel leader.

"She was everything to me," Victoria continued, her voice gaining strength with each syllable. "My light in the darkness, my reason for fighting, for surviving. And you monsters took her from me."

Her eyes blazed with a mixture of anguish and fury, her fingers curling into tight fists against the bio-bed. "I found her body, broken and discarded like , a plasma pistol still clutched in her hand. She had no choice but to take her own life, to escape the torment you inflicted upon her!"

Octavian's jaw tightened, his expression inscrutable. But deep within his eyes, a flicker of something akin to understanding flickered to life, a spark of empathy buried beneath layers of conditioning and duty.

"Such a brazen lie and still, you expect us to believe your crusade is justified?" he countered, his voice low and dangerous. "And because of that you would condemn us all to oblivion for the sake of your twisted vengeance?"

Victoria's lips curled into a snarl, her teeth bared in a feral display of defiance. "Don't you dare lecture me about justification, Ilagra," she spat, her words laced with venom. "You and your kind are the true monsters, creators of suffering and oppression."

She drew a ragged breath, her eyes burning with an intensity that seemed to sear through Octavian's very soul. "Mark my words, even if you torture me, break me down to my very core, I will never stop fighting. I will find a way to escape, to rally what remains of my forces, and I will hunt down every last one of you Ilagras. I will make you feel the same agony that claws at my heart with every waking moment, the same despair that consumes me in the depths of night."

Her voice dropped to a whisper, her eyes boring into Octavian's with an unshakable resolve. "This is far from over. For Emily, I will see your lineage wiped from existence, I will be a cleansing fire to purge the galaxy of your taint."

Silence descended upon the room, thick and suffocating. Even the medical monitors seemed to hold their collective breath, their faint beeps muted in the face of such raw emotion. Octavian's features remained impassive, but deep within his eyes, a glimmer of uncertainty flickered to life, a seed of doubt planted by the rebel leader's unwavering conviction.

From her vantage point, Amara watched the scene unfold, her gaze calculating and inscrutable. Deep within her mind, the gears of contemplation turned, weighing the implications of Victoria's words, the depths of her pain, and the potential threat she posed, even in her weakened state. But not only that, just who was she working with? The red and gold eyes she saw in her vision solidified her resolve. Victoria isn't working alone. Furthermore the person behind her, whoever they are, is dangerous. Amara not only wanted, she needed to find out who this mysterious person was. And to kill them.

As the seconds ticked by, the tension in the room grew palpable, each participant locked in their own private battle of wills and emotions. And through it all, the specter of Emily's memory loomed, a silent witness to the unfolding drama, her sacrifice etched into the very fabric of their conflict.

In that moment, the lines between right and wrong, between justice and vengeance, blurred and twisted, leaving only the harsh reality of a war that had claimed too many souls, too many lives. And as Victoria's words echoed in the stillness, it became clear that this was a battle that transcended mere physical boundaries.