Paragon Fury

CHAPTER 1
Heaven's Wrath

The old man stared up into the dark night sky, his eyes patiently scanning one star to another. He had consorted the prophets, or at least the writings they had left behind. Tonight was the night. The old mans heart raced, he feared blinking lest he missed their return. Forsaken, that was what his and his peoples fate had been. The prophets promised- they promised the return, and after all this time he was finally going to be the keeper who witnessed this fulfillment. A seed of doubt that began to take root in his mind as the night dragged on, could they have been wrong? Could the prophets have been false bearers of hope? Light! The old man watched in wonder as light blossomed in the night sky reflecting in his somewhat odd gray eyes which where framed by strong features and shoulder length thinning white hair. “At last” he thought as fire reined down from the sky, the gods had returned- Heaven.

Hell- Derrick slammed the thrusters of his sleek and powerful craft to maximum forward power and flicked his orientation stabilizers into full automatic as he focused on bringing his sights on the American fighter in front of him and let his tracer rounds rip through the inferior pilots spacecraft.

This was mans last stand against themselves- conglomerate fleets battling for any scrap of a planet to forge existence on. The new Babylon had risen, the United Federation of Free Planets had betrayed Earth. Derrick was one of the elite, one of the few ace fighters left in this struggle. No one could remember when the fighting had begun- some scholars agreed that it began with a civil war during the year 3201. Derrick didn’t know exactly why he hated the Americans and Europeans who made up the majority of the United World Nations- but he did. Russia stands alone- or at least it did now. China and the rest of the free world, mostly smaller Asian countries had been decimated by the overwhelming force of Europe and the Americas. Russia’s footing on off world planets was their only savior. Russian military and select government departments simply migrated to colonies within the immediate solar system. What followed cost billions lives- nuclear holocaust was only the beginning. Black matter warheads tore the very fabric of existence creating holes in the planet earth. All was lost.

Battle led to battle- with resources in the immediate solar system extinguished the war continued. Mans exploration of the galaxy, not envisioned as many philosophers had as an exploration through unknown became mans exile- mans endless and mindless feud with themselves throughout space. Warring gypsies set on one thing- destruction. And this was about to end. Russia with its mass fleet some 3,000 strong had reversed its course directly into the United World Nations. On a final tour de force Russia had inserted all 3,000 cruisers directly into the center of the UWN’s main caravan consisting of 4,000 transports and 7,000 cruisers. The larger entity had not responded lightly to this ploy. And such is what had become as foretold eons ago by the prophets in the end times was- Armageddon.

Derrick piloting his advanced and mostly intact fighter in the dance of the stars cared little at the moment about prophecies. He was more focused and making sure that he didn’t die. Some like to say that war slows down and that the warrior sees every explosion and has infinite time to think and consider his or her life. For Derrick it was constant and instinctive corrections to his pitch and orientation in space- his constant adjustment of power and targeting systems, and his seamless firing of Russian metal into American spacecraft. It was speed, everything flashed by at blazing speeds and adrenalin did nothing but increase the feeling of exhilaration floating in his stomach. It was hell, but it was Derricks calling in life. Trained from an early life raised on a military cruiser in the art of piloting he had quickly set himself apart from most of the other children.

Cruisers fired away- the UWN were very partial to their light based weapons. High concentration of light particles projected at key weaknesses in enemies ships. However good old Russian tradition relied on age old tested metal projectiles. Bullets old as time- and cannons firing rounds the size of a full grown man worked just as well as the laser based weapons UWN used perhaps even better. While the bigger ships minded their own business it was the fighters jobs to seek and destroy whatever they might. Derrick occasionally encountered escape pods which took him little more than a glance and a adjustment to destroy. He was surprised at the small amount of UWN fighters he encountered but was more than a match for the ones he did. His name was respected among all of the Russian squadrons and feared among the UWN. At the tender age of 24 he already boasted over 56 confirmed fighter kills over his 6 years of campaigning.

Derrick was slightly oblivious to the status of the battle around him as he fingered the trigger and brought another transport down and evaded the “to be avengers” by punching the topside thrusters sending g forces that lifted him off his seat to the extent of the restraints strapped securely across his chest and legs- it took little effort on his part to eliminate the temporary threat. Hours passed as he mindlessly followed one objective to another. The battle that had been rather heated with its large noiseless explosions and blossoming bright lights had eventually led to somewhat large blue planet. The battle that had raged so mindlessly had worn down to pockets of violence. Eventually Derrick shook off his daze and took what felt like a first look at the situation. Cruisers, parts of cruisers, transports, and fighters floated everywhere. He looked around and couldn’t see one cruiser fighting, or for that matter moving. UWN ships and Russian ships floated without purpose venting atmospheres occasionally as the ships already dead fell apart. Derrick checked his own systems and was slightly irritated as he wasn’t able to bring his thrusters beyond 45% power. Running systems diagnostics showed that his number one engine was suffering severe trauma and only operating at 12%. His other three engines where running around 50% capacity. He sighed, and began searching for a flight deck cruiser. His scans pulled up three Russian vessels on the outskirts working their way to the edge of the hundred mile debris radius. He powered his engines, careful not to overstress them and set as direct a course as he could toward the convoy.
         “Bravo Cruiser, Gold Fighter intercept looking for home base” Derrick spoke over his com- his only answer was a low amount of static cutting in an out.
         “Bravo Cruiser, Pilot Derrick requesting permission to come aboard- Gold Fighter out.”
         “… bringing abrei… forward maneuvers permish… … iied… we will be back for.. ou ood… …ukk”
Derrick watched in horror as the fleet engaged their fission core engines and sped quickly out of his range. Manny violent and somewhat offensive expletives filled his head but all that Derrick managed to let out of his mouth was a sigh. He took another good look at his scanners and watched all the inactive dead cruisers looking for a sign that might show him that he wasn’t the last man standing- nothing.

Derrick weighed his options, with his engines damaged and being low on fuel he was obviously  in a tight spot. In one scenario he could attempt to find a cruiser that was intact enough to  dock with, perhaps refuel and attempt to follow the fleet. He started to sense a sliver of hope as he started his search for bigger cruisers that might perchance still have the requirements he needed for fuel and repairs. His hope was soon blotted out by the realization that even if he could indeed find vessel of the necessary requirements he would still need to know where the fleet was headed. He opened his flight computer logs and failed to see any coordinates that had been uploaded since the fighting began. Derrick was devastated. Marooned in a pile of space junk. It was at this point that Derrick overcoming his sense of lost hope for the first time took serious notice in the planet. It appeared habitable, and as Derrick thought harder about it he started to construct a new plan. In this plan he simply attempted landing on this planet and hold tight till his fleet sent someone to pick him up. He could activate his emergency beacon and ride this one out- salvation.