The Genesis Saga Chapter 219

No news. Two months and still no news. The anxiety ate Nessah alive as her forces on Verilia were increasingly whittled down by the sole remaining mothership in orbit. Casualty estimates had hit truly sickening levels, and the military couldn’t produce ships and soldiers fast enough to protect what little was left.

To make matters worse, their planetary shields were still offline, and she had no idea when the gru’ul would try to glass the planet next. Maraz and his division were strained trying to repair them, but so much of Verilia’s production capacity had been wiped out by the gru’ul that obtaining the requisite components was incredibly difficult.

Frankly, it was a wonder they were still able to fight at all given the widespread destruction.

Nessah sagged in her chair, overco by exhaustion. She desperately needed a miracle and could only hope that Cyrix had been successful. If the fleet had had to retreat then it would make sense as to why there had been no contact since the battle had begun.

It took a monuntal effort to sit back up and continue. Every decision she took was t by inevitable losses, even when their forces succeeded in repelling the gru’ul from a given location. She couldn’t take it anymore. Good n and won died in droves due to her decisions, each death adding to the crushing mountain of souls upon her shoulders.

Yet, she knew she had no choice but to continue. If she didn’t, the entire planet would fall and her civilization would be eradicated. A new screen popped up in front of her, and she almost dismissed it out of frustration, not ready for more bad news. With a heavy sigh, she accepted the call, bracing herself for the worst.

Iral appeared onscreen before, her exhaustion mirroring Nessah’s own. She gave a quick salute before speaking. “This is acting Fleet Commander Iral, reporting in,” Iral said.

Imdiately, Nessah sat straighter in her chair, a frown on her face. “Acting Fleet Commander?” she questioned. “Where is War Commander Cyrix? He is the one in charge of the fleet.” A sinking feeling welled in her chest. An acting commander could only an one thing.

“War Commander Cyrix perished during the assault,” Iral said bitterly, confirming Nessah’s fears. “I have returned ho with what little is left of our fleet.”

Nessah jolted where she sat, her heart breaking at the news. “What are the results of the assault? How many have returned with you?” she asked, forcing herself to put aside her personal feelings. Her heart pounded in her chest as she waited for the response that would make or break all the efforts her army had done to keep Verilia safe during Cyrix’s absence.

A vicious, bloodthirsty smile lifted Iral’s cheeks. “The mission was a success,” she declared. “The gru’ul ho planet was hit with so much of the orange chemical that there is no coming back for all the gru’ul planet-side. We destroyed both motherships defending the planet and all that was left were normal gru’ul fighter ships.”

Nessah’s hope soared, quashing her earlier despair. “Do you have confirmation?” she pressed.

“Our scans showed that War Commander Cyrix’s final attack delivered a third of the flagship’s payload,” Iral said. “The rest of us rushed the planet and bombarded them with everything we had. We lost many during the that attack,” she continued, her voice choking up. “But we were also successful. What was left of the gru’ul forced us to retreat right after we received confirmation.”

“By the dead gods,” Nessah said, sucking in a breath. “We actually did it,” she said, unable to keep the awe from her voice.

“We did,” Iral confird.

“Now tell , what happened to War Commander Cyrix?” Nessah asked. Iral gave a summarized version of the battle, including his sacrifice to destroy the final mothership. Tears welled in Nessah’s eyes, but she brushed them away. Such a conduct was unbecoming of a soone of her station.

“I have a more detailed report of events I can send,” Iral said. “I drafted it while we were in hyperspace.”

“Send it to imdiately,” Nessah ordered. “Are there enough ships to help us take down the remaining mothership orbiting Verilia?” she asked.

Iral hesitated. “Barely,” she said. “We’re ready to engage, but I don’t know if we’ll make that much of a difference.”

“You will,” Nessah said confidently. “I’ll have your new orders ready in a mont. You’re dismissed.” Iral’s image winked out of existence. Nessah pulled up a new holoscreen and imdiately took in the state of her remaining troops. Every gru’ul they destroyed would bring them one step closer to eradicating them for good. The thought sent shivers down her spine.

Quickly, she ordered her troops to abandon their positions and regroup to destroy the mothership. She equally sent orders to all the ships that had arrived on the edge of their solar system alongside Iral.

It was ti to end the war.

***

An imnse explosion in space visible from even the ground ca several hours later. Nessah grinned as the ergency Tribunal summons ca in. Right on ti, she thought. She did not go to the special eting chamber directly, instead opting to issue the remaining fleet’s orders. They were to collectively eradicate all the remaining gru’ul outposts and not to stop until they were done.

Orders sent, Nessah stood up and went into the secure room for her eting. She took her place in her chair at the head of the table. The other Elders appeared at her behest, their usually calm deanor replaced by chaos and frantic yelling.

Nessah’s appearance went unnoticed for several monts before Orryn turned to face her. “Elders,” Nessah said loudly. All eyes in the room instantly focused on her and the room turned silent. “I know many of you are wondering about what happened just recently on the battlefield.”

“Of course we’re wondering!” Darros exclaid. “All of our troops were pulled from their defensive positions without consulting us and then everything exploded.”

“As War General, I do not need your permission to deploy our troops,” Nessah reminded them. She raised a hand to calm Darros’ next outburst and the Elder reluctantly backed down. “I acted upon new intel before issuing those orders,” she said.

“What could possibly justify such a reckless move?” Darros questioned, unable to keep the anger from his voice. He couldn’t fathom how many people they’d left to die for such folly.

“Because with the destruction of the final mothership, I’ve effectively ended the war,” Nessah declared. “War Commander Cyrix’s offensive was a success. The gru’ul ho world has been turned into a toxic wasteland, and the motherships protecting it have been destroyed. And now, all the motherships sent to kill us have been destroyed.” For the first ti in months, Nessah flashed a genuine smile. “I hereby declare us to be the victors,” she announced. “We did it. We’ve won.”

The room went utterly silent at the declaration.

Every Elder looked at each other and then back to Nessah, searching for any lies that could betray the news they’d been hoping for. “Is that the truth?” Darros asked, his voice quivering. “All that’s left are the stragglers?”

“Yes,” Nessah nodded.

Darros broke down into sobs, hardly able to believe the news. Finally, after so much death and destruction there would be respite. The War Tribunal had done its job and repelled the existential threat that were the gru’ul. The cost to do so was staggering. Billions were dead, their bodies littering the streets of ruined cities and buried beneath the rubble. Never before had their species known such a bloody conflict, and he doubted any other would compare.

The other Elders dared to believe Nessah’s words, and they too broke down in tears, mirroring Darros’ countenance. The relief was alien to them all after so long without hope, but each Elder welcod it gladly. They cared not for their station, nor how their actions might reflect on them. The terrible burden placed upon them was finally lifted.

Nessah gave the other Elders ti to process their emotions, her eyes wet as well. After a while, she spoke up. “We have won the war,” she said, “and now it is ti to rebuild — a task I fear will be just as hard as the surviving the war. As soon as I receive confirmation that every last gru’ul has been eradicated, we shall announce to the world our victory.” She eyed the room carefully. “How do we want to do so?” she asked.

The light-hearted debate that followed was a welco reprieve from the crushing duty they had.

***

It took two weeks for Nessah to receive confirmation that every gru’ul they could reasonably track down had been destroyed, both on Verilia and in space. And with a smile on her face, she ordered all of her troops to co ho and rest, congratulating them.

Ripples spread throughout the military and rumours circulated amongst the populace as to what that ant. Striking while the iron was hot, Nessah convened with the rest of the Tribunal. Once they were ready, their images appeared on every news station and their voices resounded from every holoscreen and radio around the world.

“Citizens of the Sunalii,” Nessah said, “this is War Arbiter Nessah. I am joined here today by the rest of the War Tribunal. After many long, grueling months of war against the gru’ul, I hereby announce that we have erged victorious. The war is officially over!” she said as every person around the globe listened with rapt attention to the historic mont. “We won!” she declared heatedly, oblivious to the sobs and cheers breaking out from people around the world at her words.

“We did not ask for this war,” Nessah continued. “What started as a chance discovery led to the series of events that made it inevitable. We were presented a mystery, completely unaware of the terrible secrets we would uncover. And once we did, there was no going back.

“As your Tribunal, it is our duty to protect you from threats. For almost two years now, we have worked tirelessly to uphold our sworn duty. I will not sit here and claim we were perfect. Not when we have lost so many. Not when all that we worked to build was so callously destroyed. Four billion souls,” Nessah said, choking up. Not even she could remain impassive in the face of such death. “That was the price we paid to live to see tomorrow.”

“The gru’ul thought themselves our betters,” Nessah spat. “That as our creators they had the right to control our life and death as they saw fit. And make no mistake, they saw fit to make us suffer. They experinted on countless souls in unspeakable ways. They tried to glass us twice. They created the worst chemical weapon possible and deployed it against us out of anger during their genocide. All in the pursuit of perfection.

“Our imperfection led to disastrous consequences,” Nessah declared. “We have done horrible things to win this war. I am sickened and disgusted by what we have done. And I would do it again in a heartbeat.

“In order to win, we studied the orange chemical and learned the forbidden knowledge we denounced so thoroughly. We deployed it in such massive quantities against the gru’ul’s ho world that no life will ever flourish there again. We condemned innocent beings to suffering beyond words, all so that we could survive.

“I am ashad,” Nessah said, her head hanging low. “In defending ourselves, we have beco monsters worse than the gru’ul. It is with a heavy heart that I hereby declare the gru’ul to have been eradicated. They will never recover from what we have done to them. No longer will they pose a threat to another. No longer will they hurt another. No longer.

“I will not demand your forgiveness for our cris,” Nessah said. “For the alternative was for us to be the ones damned to such a terrible fate. We will bear this sha in your stead.

“We have lost much. Now is no longer a ti for destruction but creation. We must rebuild what we have lost. We might not be able to go back to who we once were, but we will forge a new path forward. One where peace flourishes. It will not be a utopia, for we are not perfect people. And unlike the gru’ul,” Nessah finished, “I embrace that.”