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Printed from https://writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1958569-Prologue---Commitment-to-War
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Rated: 13+ · Sample · Sci-fi · #1958569
In a war ravaged future, humanity is fighting for the right to survive...
The massive battleship arced away from the fleet and headed towards the red planet beneath it.  Alone, it aimed for a large landmass crisscrossed with lines of civilization.  The remaining ships of the fleet hung silently above the iron rich desert world, watching with apprehension and trepidation as their leader waltzed into the lion’s den.

A large man stood in the middle of the bridge of the battleship. He was staring at the main view screen, the approaching planet taking up most of the display. The deep black of space absorbed the light surrounding it making the dull red orb that hung in space before them stand out like a beacon. It drew the eye to the expanses of sapphire water and wisps of clouds that stretched around the horizon giving the planet an almost beautiful quality. Tiny specks of light glinted back at him, the reflection of the orbital defense stations hanging in the distance. They were silent and unmoving, but he was sure they were still watching them.

Batavia.

Here the Ilian Empire reigned, known universally as oppressors, tyrants, murderers and Warlords. The names did not do them justice. 

Supreme Commander Frank Douglas’ hands were behind his back clasped together at parade rest position. He was in his best uniform; medals covered his chest, gold piping edged the blood-red fabric that was fitted to his athletic frame. His flattop military haircut was gunmetal gray speckled with white. After a few moments of tense silence on the bridge he turned around, looking at his crew that was eager with anticipation at what was to come.

“We have all waited for this day for a long time. Far too long. I have anticipated this moment from the day we ventured out into the furnace of war to reclaim what is rightfully ours. Today it ends. No more reports coming every day from the battlefront filled with our sons and daughters dying on border worlds, far from home. No more toiling away endlessly on the machines of war. No more worrying about the future. No more fear. For we have ended this war!

Cheering exploded at that moment, but the Commander Douglas stayed true to his speech. “We have defeated the Ilian Empire, the most ruthless and horrific enemy ever confronted by man. Surrender is now their only option. Though the last few years have been hard, unspeakably hard, it has all come to this, the defining moment of us all. All those lives lost, all the men and women who sacrificed the most any of us could ask for - none of it has been in vain. The Ilian Warlords will beg for peace, the peace that we have been fighting so hard and so long for. Today marks the day we end this war!” The power of his voice echoed through the bridge as he ended his speech.

The bridge erupted in more cheering and applause. Commander Douglas smiled as he turned to look back at the planet below them.  It really was a moment to be proud of. Not only was his crew all across the battleship listening to the speech but he had a virtual connection to the u-net which streamed across the human universe. Trillions of Federation citizens were tuned in to see the biggest event ever, the surrender of mankind’s greatest foe. Douglas cut off the link for the moment as he went about his normal duties. The talking heads of the media would dissect his every word and anticipate what was to come. Many of the channels continued to follow the visuals from the ship’s descent. It was all a wonder to most people. 

“Bring up a visual of our descent on the main screen.” The view quickly changed, zooming in on the world below them in an instant. An overlaid descent vector highlighted in green popped up on the wall screen. It stood in contrast to red soil of the planet and terminated at what looked to be a large city, nestled among a barren plain that grew into stony mountains in the distance.

This was the first time humans had gazed upon Batavia. The Batavia Warlord sent a direct message to High Command allowing the fleet access to his system. The first communication in history between the species, and it was surrender. Initially High Command was wary about venturing into an Ilian dominated system, but Douglas had argued that this was their olive branch and they were ready to surrender. Maybe the two races could find a mutual compromise and coexist peacefully. That was the hope at least because the last decade had been anything but peaceful and citizens of the Federation longed for those long lost times.

The Ilian Empire invaded human space many years ago, appearing in the skies above border settlements with malicious intent. The farthest settlements were lost without warning, millions lost to unknown fates. And the Terran Federation was caught flat footed.

Decades of peace had robbed the vast human domain of any real need for defense from an existential threat; naval fleets dwindled and armies were retired. Humanity prospered on the back of free trade and social stability under the banner of the Terran Federation.  It was the proverbial ‘Golden Age of Man’; until the Ilian Warlords arrived. The years of prosperity had robbed the human race of that edge - the drive to innovate and the all-encompassing purpose to forge ahead, overcome adversity and persevere. The human race had become soft and complacent by reaching the pinnacle of humanity’s desire for peace. But we would not remain so.

And so it is said, that in times of utter misery and hopelessness men of character rise to the occasion.

So began the transformation of the Terran Federation from a peaceful society into an unstoppable machine of destructive potential. Millions of men and women were drafted in the newly reorganized Federal Army and Navy with the war spreading across light-years of space upon dozens of worlds.

The Ilians made no attempts at communication, humanity sent probe after probe to invading fleets only to see them destroyed. It was near impossible to get vital information other than basic observation. During battle Ilian soldiers would commit suicide before they would allow themselves to be captured. Death seemed to be absolute for them.

The lack of communications with the Ilian Empire wore on citizens and soldiers alike. The unprovoked attacks provided much debate among the academics as to the motives of the Ilian Empire. Prisoners vanished never to be seen again. Worlds lost to the Warlords were never heard from again.

Nearly a decade went by before the Ilian advance was halted.  Almost a hundred worlds had been lost in those years, billions of lives erased from their connection to humanity, the Terran Federation shrinking to nearly half its original size.

Over the course of those long hard years, humanity had developed enough technology and gained enough men at arms to finally go on the offensive. Commander Douglas was chosen to lead the free people of the Terran Federation on the greatest Crusade ever seen; to liberate humanity from the clutches of the most evil threat in history. The largest fleet ever assembled struck into Ilian conquered space hell-bound to regain what had been lost.

What the initial landing armies found was horrifying. 

Heaps of human remains, cracked and broken bones piled high into the sky, were all that remained of some cities. The lucky ones were still alive, freed from forced labor camps as emaciated drones, blank stares all that remained of them. The worst was the discovery that Ilian warriors feasted on human flesh. The unlucky ones were treated as cattle, fattened up only to be roasted alive over a spit for all the others to see. The survivors of the cattle camps were horribly scarred, both mentally and physically. Ilian warriors were sadistic and cruel in their conquests, tales of torture and agonizing death spread among the soldiers, eventually reaching the safe worlds deep in human space. The Ilian warriors fought fiercely to hold their conquests, millions dying in the assaults across space. 

News spread quickly among the human worlds and recruitment jumped as the thirst for vengeance drove some, compassion driving others. The crusade picked up steam as the millions of new recruits helped push into the next sector, and then the next sector. Before they knew it they had reclaimed dozens of their own worlds. And the push continued until now, here they were, the end.

Commander Douglas broke from his musings as the battleship broke through the cloud cover and the vast expanse of the barren desert spread before them. It looked eerily similar to the red sands of Mars as the ship rushed over it. On the main viewscreen a glowing green circle highlighted where they were supposed to land far in the distance.

A vast mountain chain disappeared off the left side of the main viewscreen, while the rocky desert dominated the main portion screen. Soon they were on the outskirts of settlement, small buildings and farms rushed beneath the huge ship. An officer ordered the ship to slow, they were approaching the target area. The green circle was highlighting a point not far now, a large open area that looked to be a spaceport. While the mile long ship rarely made planet fall, Commander Douglas thought a show of force was a good idea. 

They came down fast, shedding speed the old fashioned way, letting the air brake them through most of the sky. Massive thrusters fired in the final descent, millions of pounds of thrust scouring the open concrete pad beneath them. Dust and scorched earth billowed up into the air, obscuring the massive ship momentarily as huge supports groaned with the ship settling. A light breeze cleared the scene showing a vast expanse of open concrete that continued off into the distance. Other ships were parked across the pad, many small merchant ships and a few military cruisers clustered together in a far corner.

Alarms began going off as a lone vehicle approached the ship. Everyone on the ship was in high alert, battle stations were manned and all sensors were collecting data on the surrounding area. Defensive systems tracked the vehicle as it came closer before it halted a hundred yards from the ship. The vehicle was hailed by the ship. An automated message replied that it was for transport to the Warlord’s palace.

Commander Douglas smiled as the message was read to him. Did they really think he would take the transportation they provided? After the way that they had treated humanity so far? What made them think he would trust them like that? After thinking over the implications of the offer, Douglas decided to follow the vehicle in his own armored transports with one the guards riding in the vehicle as a decoy. He didn’t know what would happen once they noticed the vehicle being followed but it seemed like a better idea than riding in provided transportation.

He gave the orders and his bodyguards exited the bridge to gather their equipment. The commander was ready and he made his way to the lower exit bay. He didn’t need to change, he was going to wear his ceremonial uniform, medals gleaming and boots shiny. His guards met him there shortly after, fully dressed in dull grey combat suits when they arrived. The face shields were up on their helmets, ammo pouches loaded, weapons slung over their shoulders. Beneath it all their bodies were enhanced with the most advanced combat biosystems; personal shields, reflex and strength augmentation, integral weapons enhancements that practically made their bodies weapons unto themselves. The list went on, many experimental and top secret technologies reserved for only special ops soldiers. These men had been on the ground in many assaults, fought the Ilian warriors face to face and still lived. He was in the presence of the best that the Federation could provide.

The assault ramp underneath the ship opened extending to the concrete pad below, large enough for two main battle tanks to descend at a time. Douglas activated the link to the u-net again, allowing anyone with access to follow him and his guards on their journey. A hot gust of wind came blowing in and Douglas and his men instinctively squinted as they entered the brightly lit bay. In the distance they could see the vehicle hovering nearby, stationary. The experience was identical for those who were in the virtual connection back home. They felt the heat. They gazed into the distance. They felt as if they were in the Commander’s body.

It was viciously hot as the group walked down the ramp. Armored vehicles hovered behind them in tow. The sun was pounding down from above with a vaguely blue hue, the intensity from a much hotter blue star than humanity’s own Sol.  Heat waves blurred the horizon and the tall towers of a city in the far distance.  Everyone’s biosystems adjusted quickly to the increased heat and their combat suits worked harder to maintain normal temperature.

The large boxy vehicle looked to be a large passenger van of some kind. Ilian design was alien but it looked similar enough that you could tell what it was. It started hovering towards the group of men and the bodyguards kicked up their threat level.  Biosystems activated heavy defensive shields and weapons were aimed at the approaching van as it stopped a short distance from them.

A door opened vertically from one side as the vehicle stopped. The bodyguards all tracked their weapons on the opening. Nothing stepped out.

The bodyguards slowly walked over to it in a defensive posture, one entering cautiously, weapon up, combat biosystems on maximum, and searched it quickly.  Finding it empty, he motioned the all clear sign and another bodyguard motioned for everyone to enter their personal transports.  Once inside, the van silently hovered in the direction of the buildings in the distance. The commander’s group followed behind it.

Soon they came up to a thirty foot tall red stone wall, with a heavy metal gate that stretched to the top.  Ilian soldiers patrolled the top of the structure, weapons held at the ready.  The Ilian van didn’t even slow down as the massive gate doors swung open automatically. The commander’s vehicles followed through untouched and Commander Douglas internally breathed a sigh of relief.

They had entered a new world, gone was the boring gray concrete of the spaceport, what they encountered now was a vibrant world of colors. It was in sharp contrast to the barren desert outside the city that they had flown over.

         Ancient trees lined the sidewalks their green leaves in contrast with the purple bushes behind them. Those were cut into odd patterns, and crushed white rock walkways meandered through it all.  It all looked like some public garden as strange looking creatures walked among the trees and bushes on their way to do their business. Neither had been catalogued by the Terran Federation. One reminded him of a black squid, its tentacle appendages moving swiftly over the ground as it walked. It was clothed in a robe that covered most of its body and he couldn’t see any eyes or facial features. He wondered how it could see. Beside the squid creature was a hairy squat egg shaped creature with stubby arms and legs that waddled as it walked. They looked as though they were talking as they walked, subconsciously avoiding the group of Ilian soldiers approaching them.

         The rest of the sidewalk was mostly empty save for a group of Ilian soldiers walking the streets. They were in full body armor and carried their weapons. One of the soldiers barked a harsh sound at the aliens and they stopped in their tracks. They stood still as the soldiers walked up on them and one of soldiers kicked the small creature sending it sprawling down the sidewalk. The big aliens seemed to laugh as they continued on their way and the small creature slowly got up. Douglas shook his head in disgust as his transport passed by. An interesting note on Ilian society he thought.

The little convoy continued down this road for a while. White stone buildings whizzed by and large glass skyscrapers dominated the skyline in the distance. The area opened up again as another vast expanse of gardens swept by and then went into a large sweeping turn to the right.

The garden ended with another large stone wall and the van and armored vehicles stopped at the gate. The gate through this wall was another set of large metal doors. These were stylized with gold inlays and intricate patterns that Douglas didn’t recognize. This one was more ornate and had battlements at the top of the gate filled with Ilian soldiers. None of their weapons were trained on the small caravan as though they expected the human transports.

The doors swung open slowly and the van started moving again. The surrounding area beyond the wall was desert soil. The concrete road before them continued off into the distance towards a large stone building sitting at the top of a barren amber soiled hill. It looked like an ancient medieval castle or church with massive buttresses and towers that reached high into the sky. The building was massive, nearly as large as his battleship. This had to be the Warlord’s palace.

The small convoy of vehicles continued up the smooth road for a minute or so and stopped a few feet from the entrance to the grand castle.  A large overhang provided some shade from the sun. It covered the entrance which led to a large hallway that extended to an arched double door. The stonework surrounding the entrance was magnificent, stylized with etched patterns and stone as smooth as glass. Each massive block of stone looked like had been fit into place perfectly, as he couldn’t see any gaps between them, only a slight line defining them.

Commander Douglas and his bodyguards exited their armored transport onto the polished stone walkway that led to the entrance. The sun reflected harshly off the glasslike surface, nearly blinding them as they stepped out of the dark interior of the transport. The armored faceplates of his bodyguards darkened in reaction, but he had to squint and turn his head to avoid it. Flanking either side of the entrance were Ilian soldiers standing at attention. His guards seemed tense as they slowly walked towards the entrance, eyeing the monstrous aliens as they entered the overhang. The Ilian warriors did not move as the commander and his men assembled in a loose formation before moving towards the entrance.

The magnificent doors slowly opened and another odd creature walked out, another one that had not been catalogued before. The Ilian servant creature gestured towards the doorway with one of its arms and turned back to enter the building. Apparently it expected the commander and his men to follow it.

The commander studied the creature as it walked. It had an odd gait that came from six appendages that were arrayed around its torso, any of which made it look like it could walk or grasp with them. Currently it was walking with four appendages in a spider-walk, the other two held like arms. Its long oblong head hung low off its shoulders, nearly chest level, with a mane of golden hair disappearing under the Ilian tunic. 

The grand hallway which they entered was enormous and stretched off into the distance.  The vaulted ceiling stretched so high it was hard to tell where it ended as the light did not seem to reach it.  Massive gothic columns bore the immense weight of the arching roof.  Hanging on the stone wall behind the columns were elaborately overdone paintings of bizarre and odd looking creatures being slaughtered at the hands of Ilian victors, oddly a few paintings were familiar to him, Ilian warriors crushing the seemingly weak humans.

Ilian sentries stood at perfect attention all down the corridor, standing guard in front of each of the massive columns that led all the way down the hallway. They supported massive glaives at a perfect forty-five degree angle in front of them, making a virtual pathway of razor edged weapons. The sentries towered over Douglas and his guards over ten feet tall according to his biosystems measurements. Larger than normal soldiers he noted. They had the same basic look as an Ilian soldier, vaguely apelike features and thick purple skin with dark fur that stuck out from the gaps in their highly polished silver armor. It looked ceremonial with odd runes and patterns inscribed in the armor.  A heavy frame and thick build helped to increase the menacing look they exuded. Their inscribed helmets covered most of their large skulls, with only their dark eyes showing through a single dark slit. 

Stretching on into the distance in front of him was a regal rug, cherry red and soft under foot, that allowed him to sink in its richness with every step.  It covered a highly polished marble floor that was more than worthy of walking on alone. He noticed there were odd creatures like the one leading them using their many hands to slowly polish the stone to a high gloss. It was disturbingly quiet in the grand hallway, the only sound being the slow plodding of the Ilian servant’s walking limbs in the rich rug, which was leading him unhurriedly. His own light footsteps and those of his bodyguards were barely audible. 

The stony look on his face belied his real feelings about the situation. He was really impressed with the splendor of the palace, it took generations to build something like this. A hint of doubt crept in then, maybe they were inviting them to show how powerful they were, to show the humans that they were nothing compared to the Ilian warlords. He brushed the thought aside remembering all the hard fought victories he had won over the years. This was the time, he could feel it.

The long walk down the regal corridor led to a towering entrance with two intricately carved wooden doors hanging on massive hinges. For all their mass and huge dimensions they opened silently as the group approached.

Their fate awaited them beyond the entrance, one hinged on years of sacrifice and bloodshed. For all of the commander’s bluster he didn’t really know what to expect with this meeting. He could only imagine that surrender was the purpose but what if there was a darker more sinister plot taking place, something he could not control? He had armed guards, the best humanity had to offer and he was surely glad they were with him, but what if this was all a trap? What could he do then? He realized then that he had taken a huge chance that the Ilian Empire was logical, hell, even peaceful in the end.

But if they weren’t? What was he to do then?

The possibilities seemed endless but his gut was telling him that everything was going to work out, that these alien beings were more like them than they thought, that he had made the right decision. He had followed that feeling for his whole life and it had never steered him wrong before. He was hoping now was not that moment when it was.

Commander Douglas studied the room as they entered. It was a large circular room with a domed ceiling. Servants quickly moved around in the background with their various tasks. The walls were covered in trophies, including the mounted heads of many different species that he had never seen before. More columns circled the interior of the room to support the large dome overhead which was covered in painted murals and battle scenes. And across from the entrance was the throne; large, golden and ornate like the rest of the building.

In the throne sat the Ilian Warlord, his purple and black mottled skin contrasting with the dull stone walls behind him. A golden mane of hair glowed in the light that flooded over the throne from some point high above. Commander Douglas noted the difference in hair color, maybe marking the warlord out as a different caste entirely. The rest of the throne room was not as well lit, making the throne glimmer and stand out all the more. The Warlord wore the same highly polished rune inscribed armor like that of his sentries. He was massive as well, seeming even larger than his sentries and just as broad. 

“Supreme Commander Douglas,” a bass voice rumbled from the throne. Douglas visibly straightened, a look of shock quickly passing over his features before being replaced by a stony glare. His guards noticed his reaction and quickly activated all the covert combat biosystems hardwired into their bodies. They tensed, their posture shifting slightly and their grip on their weapons tighter.

“Bah,” the creature snorted, “even your titles disgust me,” the Warlord continued. It startled him that this being, this alien who never once reached out to humanity, could speak English. “It is tough for me to distinguish between your facial expressions but I have been studying your species for a while now and I am sure that I noticed what you pathetic beings call fear, cross your features a moment ago,” the Warlord emphasizing the word fear slowly in a dark tone. It seemed to relish in the term, a terrible grin revealing spike-like dark teeth.

“How can you speak...?” Douglas's voice trailed off as the Warlord continued.

“Ah it soothes my soul to see such a thing, this fear. To answer your first question, yes, we know more about you than you dare to think. As to your second one, you might be questioning why we allowed your inferior species in my domain, to breathe my air, to pollute my thoughts, to observe the wonders of my empire. Well let me assure you, I do so against my best wishes. I did not want your pathetic species spoiling the air I breathe, but alas I was overruled and here you stand before me.”

Quickly regaining his wits Douglas stammered “How dare you speak to me in such a way! Your species is on the defensive! We have crushed your fleets! Killed countless numbers of your warriors! And you dare speak to ME in such a manner?!”

“Your species is a stain on this universe,” the Warlord continued dismissing the outburst by Douglas with a wave of its massive clawed hand. “The Ilian Warlords have ruled this galaxy for millennia and we will let no nuisance such as you impede our progress.  We will not tolerate your existence any longer.  Your race will be crushed. The Warlords will drink your blood victoriously from your puny skulls.  Your sons and daughters will be slaughtered.  Your homes will be destroyed, your culture erased from my universe.  And I will see to it personally,” the Warlord rose casually from his throne at these last words, pushing himself off the throne effortlessly.  Standing fully upright the Ilian Warlord was even taller than Douglas first imagined, easy dwarfing the ten foot high throne behind him. The servants near him scattered quickly to exits unseen.

The massive Warlord stepped down to the plush carpet at the foot of his throne. His massive presence was frightening on a primal level, a creature larger and stronger with an aggressive attitude. Commander Douglas was sure another glimmer of fear crossed his features. He was glad that the link to the u-net didn’t include his emotions. The room became totally quiet as the Warlord stood there, tension thick in the air. He seemed to be pondering something. Suddenly he pointed a taloned finger at the commander, turning his head to stare with a fiery glint in his eyes.

“For your transgressions against the Ilian Master Race you will ALL be made into my slaves,” the Warlord continued in a booming voice that echoed throughout the chamber. “However, you puny pests will die a painful death,” specifically pointing out the commander and his guards.

Douglas shuddered as a new thought entered his mind, the shock of the situation taking precious moments from him. The warlord was not just talking to the commander. These creatures knew too much. English? His title? Who he was? How did they know such things? They must have secretly accessed the u-net; the thought dawning on him with a new sense of dread. If they could access the u-net… they knew about the link.

The sight of Commander Douglas unnerved brought a rumble of a chuckle from deep in the Warlord.  “How do you think your race is taking this little meeting? Are they rioting? Are they dumbstruck like the cattle they are? Are they shaking in fear at the sight of a Grand Warlord like myself? I relish the thought of your race panicking in the streets. You, the Supreme Commander, coming in here acting like a conquering Warlord, and now you look like a feeble little insect ready to be squashed.

“You have no idea of my plans,” the Warlord continued. “And that scares you the most.  The lack of control over the situation is tearing you apart.  Will I destroy your fleet hovering insolently above my planet?  Will I launch a fleet of my own back into human space?  I can see these thoughts brewing in your head.  Yet you try and put up a show of worthless defiance.  That defines your whole race of scum.  I have studied your kind for some time now, and I have come up with a solution to all your troubles.  I will own you, and with that I will do what I please with your race of pathetic beings.  Your kind will not last much longer in my universe,” with the last words a white hot bolt of energy erupted from the tip of the Warlord’s extended finger.  Douglas’s head exploded in a mist of blood and gore.  His body fell limply to the floor, a pool of crimson slowly spreading out. 

Blood sprayed the guards as his body fell to the ground and they reacted immediately, combat programs launched, weapons were brought up. They quickly circled around Douglas’s body, weapons pointed out in a defensive posture. Magnetically accelerated steel pellets spewed from the ends of their weapons, stone columns exploding in violent sprays of dust as the hypersonic rounds slammed into the sentries standing there. The rounds easily punched through the ceremonial armor of the closest sentries, black ichor spraying the walls behind them.

The u-net virtual link back to the human universe was severed with Douglas’s death. Immediately billions of viewers lost their connection, the link going dead. Confusion took over at first.

“The Warlord was supposed to surrender, not attack!” went the cry of millions. Things were all out of place, years of planning and sacrifice crashing down in an instant. The hope infecting everyone only moments ago was crushed, replaced by despair, the future seeming very dark indeed. Then AI systems started to crash. The u-net was infected, spreading destruction and chaos through all of humanity.

The Ilian Warlord chortled wickedly as he turned to leave the throne room unhurriedly. He waved a hand dismissively as he left the room, laughing a deep bass rumble the entire way. Other sentries began pouring into the chamber from the hallway, their glaives held high, charging at the small contingent of guards.  Guttural roars echoed from the walls as they descended on the humans. The doomed bodyguards turned to face the oncoming tide of death approaching them. More steel pellets lanced out and Ilian sentries grunted as they toppled to the floor, armor punctured and limbs mangled.

Suddenly the mag rifles ceased firing, internal circuitry frying with little puffs of smoke.   

Shortly after their heavily enhanced bodies locked up in electronic failure as their combat biosystems failed. They glanced at each other in frozen panic as they realized what was about to happen. The sentries crashed into the small circle of remaining humans. Screams filled the air as the glaives came down swiftly, hacking the guards to pieces. 

Orbital defense stations came online, but the human fleet was dark and unmoving.  Heavy terawatt laser beams and racks of missiles lashed out at them, ripping the ships to pieces as they smashed into the unshielded vessels. Metal shredded and vaporized silently under the intense energy of the weapons as the ships absorbed the punishment. The remains of the human fleet drifted off course as Ilian warships appeared at the edge of the system.

No one could have known the destruction that was about to follow.

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