Green sundown

[Sturmwind]

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[font=Century Gothic]Chapter 1: The seeds of revenge

801 AS, Honshu system

The Honshu star's blue light shone upon the silver edges of an armada composed by refugee transports, gathering in the high-orbit of the system's only inhabited planet. The eerie reflection made by these two colors meeting was chiefly obstructed by a true flying wonder, a poetically intimidating Sekigahara-class battleship, finest example of the artisan Kusari engineering. On the side of the vessel were three Hiragana runes, which read "Moriyama".

The Moriyama was the flagship of the Honshu defence fleet, with two more destroyers and several gunboats serving under the battleship's command. As it would later turn out, the vessel only had a few more hours to enjoy its role as a command ship, or as a wonderful piece of artwork itself. Shōshō Yamada, the commander of both the Moriyama and the defence fleet just holstered his ceremonial katana on the bridge of his battleship, fixing his eyes topped by his unnaturally thick eyebrows on an approaching communications officer.

"Shōshō Yamada! Shōshō Yamada!" the approaching soldier shouted.

The comms officer's troubled tone betrayed that he was bringing no good news. Yamada stoked his beard, then signalled the soldier that he could begin his speech with a slight nod at his direction.

"Shōshō Yamada! We have lost contact with recon wing Wasapu 3. Chūi Tanaka's communicator went silent a minute after they reported making contact with a squad of Rheinland heavy fighters."

Yamada didn't respond first. He gazed through the window of his command deck, taking a brief look at the silvery reflections of the refugee transports in Planet Honshu's orbit. A role model officer Yamada might have been, but he never would have expected a situation of this magnitude to erupt. He simply couldn't believe Rheinland was on their doorstep, with seemingly no more motives than to eradicate the House of Kusari from memory. How could one man, even if such a high ranking officer as himself, stop a galactic blitzkrieg, while having to arrange the safe extraction of millions of innocents before taking action? Despite all the odds, his cool, modest nature triumphed.

"Understood. Report back to your position," Yamada replied.

"Hai, Shōshō Yamada."

The communications officer bowed and ran back to his post. Yamada stepped to a black desk full of monitors and buttons, in front of which another two officers stood. He dismissed them both, then pressed a triangluar, green button and began to talk.

"Get me the destroyer Inukami in line."

A "hai" echoed from the other side of the radio, then following some static, a deep Kusarian voice joined the comms channel.

"Daisa Sasaki reporting from the IKN Inukami. Standing by for your orders at full green status, Shōshō Yamada."

"Daisa Sasaki, I will signal the go code for the refugees in two minutes. Move the Inukami from Osaka back to Akita, then to Honshu and prepare for the last stand. Leave your fighter wings behind to cover the extraction of the valuables and the personnel from the storage facility."

"Hai, Shōshō Yamada," replied the deep voice without the slightest note of doubt, even though the selected path was probably swarming with hostile bomber wings.