Planetfall

Fortress of Astayax

Chapter Three: The Fortress of Astayax

The planet Astayax loomed like a jewel of fire and steel beneath the stars.

Its atmosphere shimmered with containment fields, and its orbit bristled with fleets — ships like floating fortresses, engines burning blue.

To the Concord, Astayax was the heart of civilization.

To Colonel Brit Kael, it felt more like the last fortress before the fall.

Their shuttle pierced the atmosphere, trailing smoke from battle scars. Inside, Kael’s son, Korrin, pressed his face against the viewport, eyes wide at the sight below — sprawling citadels, molten rivers powering generator cores, and defense towers that reached into the clouds.

“It’s so alive,” Korrin said, awed.

Kael didn’t look. His scarred hands tightened on the console. “Alive… for now.”

The descent through the lower atmosphere was silent except for the hum of the engines and the echo of memories — screams, the crimson light of Tevilis, the swarm. Kael forced the images down as the autopilot announced:

“Approaching Fort Helion — quarantine zone inbound.”

The landing pad shimmered with containment fields. Soldiers in silver armor waited in rigid rows, rifles leveled, their visors reflecting the shuttle’s fading thrusters. When the hatch opened, a voice cut through the static.

“Identify and disarm. All arrivals from Tevilis sector are under strict containment.”

Kael stepped forward, helmet under his arm, posture still military-sharp despite exhaustion. “Colonel Brit Kael. Concord salvage division. Survivor transport Echo-Seven.”

The officer’s brows rose. “Survivor?”

Kael’s jaw hardened. “Two of us. Myself and my son.”

A long silence. Then the soldiers lowered their rifles.

“Welcome to Astayax, Colonel. You’ll be taken for examination.”

---

They were led through gleaming corridors that pulsed faintly with blue light — conduits of energy running beneath glass floors. Holographic banners floated overhead:

“THE CONCORD ENDURES.”

“UNITY THROUGH STRENGTH.”

Korrin stared at them, whispering, “They really believe it’s still holding together.”

Kael’s lips twitched into something close to a smile. “Belief keeps empires alive longer than armies.”

In the decontamination bay, sterilizing mist hissed around them, cold and sharp as knives. When the doors opened again, they were greeted by two figures: a tall man in command armor, and a woman whose silver-blue skin shimmered under the lights.

“Colonel Kael,” said the man, extending a gloved hand. “I’m Commander Rhun Varic, Strategic Operations. Welcome back from the dead.”

Kael ignored the hand. “Wish I could say the same for Tevilis.”

The alien woman inclined her head gracefully. “I am Dr. Lyssara of Elynd, Concord Science Council. I’ve been assigned to debrief you.”

Rhun’s tone sharpened. “We received fragments of your distress transmission. Something about ‘planetary overrun’?”

Kael nodded grimly. “The Scourgeborn. Thousands. Maybe millions. They weren’t spreading by infection, Commander. They were already there. Dormant.”

Lyssara’s luminous eyes flickered with unease. “You believe the Tevilis outbreak was… seeded?”

Kael met her gaze. “I don’t believe it. I saw it.”

The silence that followed stretched thin until Rhun finally exhaled. “We’ve lost four sectors in the last year. All with similar symptoms. Entire biospheres collapsing. The Council suspects a chain reaction.”

Lyssara hesitated before speaking again. “There’s more. Concord Intelligence intercepted old transmissions — encrypted using codes from the Thirteen Suns Rebellion.”

Korrin blinked. “The Thirteen Suns? But they were destroyed decades ago.”

Lyssara shook her head. “So history says. But these signals originated from different systems. Hidden colonies. And they’re alive.”

Kael frowned. “You’re saying the Suns survived?”

Rhun’s face was grim. “Fragments. Cells. Some call themselves Wardens, others Voices of Flame. Each guarding something the Concord failed to erase.”

Kael’s voice dropped. “Artifacts. Data. Maybe even pieces of Dandodylyta’s work.”

Lyssara nodded. “Exactly. They claim they still serve the ‘Original Light.’ The same creed that began the rebellion.”

---

Later, from the observatory balcony of Fort Helion, Kael and Korrin stood watching the fleets drift across the dawn. Storms rolled beneath them, glowing with electric veins.

Korrin’s voice was quiet. “You think those Thirteen Suns people caused what happened on Tevilis?”

Kael’s eyes narrowed. “If they didn’t cause it… they might know how to stop it.”

He turned as Lyssara approached, datapad in hand. “Colonel,” she said softly. “The Council has placed you under observation, but I thought you should see this.”

She handed him the pad. A holographic image flickered to life — a transmission feed, grainy, intercepted hours ago. A robed alien with glowing eyes stood amid ancient stone ruins, symbols of fire etched around him.

The voice was calm, resonant, and chillingly alive.

> “To the Concord that betrayed the stars — we are still here.

We, the Suns that refused to die.

The galaxy burns because you forgot what was buried.

You unleashed the wound Dandodylyta opened,

and now it spreads beyond control.

Seek not to contain it. Seek to remember.”

The image cut to static.

Korrin swallowed hard. “They’re real.”

Lyssara nodded slowly. “That transmission came from a world long abandoned — Virellus Prime. A dead system. Until today.”

Kael stared at the screen, his reflection flickering over the flames of the hologram. “If the Thirteen Suns are awake again… then Tevilis wasn’t the beginning.”

He looked toward the horizon where the fleets burned gold in the dawn.

“It was the warning.”

---

Far away, on Virellus Prime, beneath a sky of shattered moons, a gathering of cloaked figures stood around a crimson monolith that pulsed like a heartbeat. One removed his mask — an alien face burned and radiant with living energy.

> “The Concord stirs,” he said softly.

“Let them. The Thirteen rise again — not for war… but for balance.”

And as the monolith throbbed once more, the stars above seemed to dim.