Shariah, from almost an entire deck away, can hear it. A thunderous sound, loud clanging, and as she gets even closer, she can hear the chanting. A chorus of men and women hollering like wild beasts and chanting something over and over again. She hasn't had the opportunity to board the Army vessels yet, and she was surprised at how cozy they felt inside compared to the more metallic and sterile Navy ships. It's not wood paneled like civilian liners, but the paint scheme is of more natural colors rather than the blue, gray, and black of the Navy.

  She turns a corner and an airlock cycles, a slight hiss being immediately drowned out by a wave of sound that Shariah could feel as well as she could hear. The crashing and clanging of metal objects against one another makes it hard to pick out any single word for a moment, but a massive blast of sound hits her after there is a horrible crashing sound, like a car accident. The crown explodes into just pure excited sound and nothing more. Just barely over it she can hear a male voice, booming loudly, and it announces,

  "Anyone else wish to try against the champion?"

  Eventually, pushing through the crowd, Shariah finds something completely expected and stupid. Very stupid.

  Clad in Army powered armor, four combatants enter the ring of people. One of each pair climbs onto the other's back or shoulders, and the riders, carrying a sizeable length of metal piping, are beating the snot out of one another, the armor holding up, just to try to knock the other from their perch. An infamous sport done by all grunts since powered armor became mostly standard, power jousting.

  Doing this alone is stupid. What elevates it more is that through the clear visor of one of the riders, Shariah can see they had crammed the alien woman Phillia into a suit, and it appears she has been doing well, currently being christened the champion. On further inspection, this seems to be the case because she has sword training, or at least medieval weapons training, meaning with her powered strength, she can easily win the competition with ease as the only one who has done something like this before, outside of being a bunch of slightly more evolved apes.

  In all honesty, Shariah has no idea how to feel about this scenario. For one, no one is actually going to get hurt, considering the metal piping being used as swords and lances is bending more than it's even scratching the paint on the armor. Yet, they stuffed a VIP, according to recent briefings she received from home, into a very expensive piece of Army hardware that even at its current state of development could, in theory, crush all the bones of the user if only six internal safeties are broken or maulfunction, and for some unknown reason these maulfunctions and failures only seem to happen on base outside of combat simulations as only the super old models have any combat fatalities due to this on their records. Lastly, despite how human-like Phillias biology looks, she still has considerable physiological differences that could potentially make little accidents happen more often. Mostly due to the shape, size, and natural flexibility of her limbs compared to those of a normal human man or woman, and this is in both directions, she is more flexible in certain places and much less flexible in others compared to human standards for either sex. This does not mention that while scrubbed of most of her mana radiation, she still emits enough where the medical techs have modified her day-to-day clothing with some radiation shielding, and powered armor of all kinds requires a specific type of underwear for better comfort and action, so that suit will now need decontamination.

  Then there is her final hesitation, the fact that it looks like everyone is having a great time...including the Colonel, who in theory should be in charge of stopping these things from getting out of hand, and it looks more like he is helping it become more out of hand, yet at the same time considerably more fun. Yet, her duty is to be the fun police in this situation, considering that most of all, she needs to get ahold of the younger Hollander because new orders have arrived.

  Wading through the armored bodies of soldiers, Shariah avoids more than one close call with an armored boot slamming down onto her normal black leather boots. Yet, she makes it to the center as Phillia dismounts another soldier with a quick flick of her wrist, and the armor's servos and artificial muscle do the rest of the work. Upon seeing her, the Colonel calls for a stop in a booming voice, and everything calms down quickly. Now slightly nervous and embarrassed by ruining the fun, Shariah pauses before speaking and tells the old man,

  "I am not here to stop the game. Colonel, we have new orders from central, and you're going to need to hear them... it is related to you all getting to go home and join the main war. "

  There is a pregnant silence before the crowd erupts once again, boredom of a peaceful post giving way to almost hysterical excitement for the chance to go and do their jobs. The Colonel nods quietly, not sharing in his men's relish as he follows the Diplo-Colonel to his office on board the army transport.

  After getting back into his greens, Malakai sits at his desk and picks up a half-finished cigar, lighting it up with a small torch before taking a long drag. Shariah lets him finish for a moment as the loud purification fans come online to take away the potentially dangerous smoke. When this ends she begins,

  "Well, I got you the transfer you wanted."

  He nods and says,

  "I meant me, not my boys..."

  Shariah shrugs, stating,

  "They all seemed happy about it."

  Malakai nods, responding,

  "Always are when the majority of em didn't fight in the last war. Insurgent stomping isn't fighting a real war, when you face foes on equal footing. Everyone but my Lt's and even a few of them are barely one or two tours experienced, and I really don't want them on a frontline fighting Euros, none of em can even comprehend what it's like to fight through a nuclear war zone... although from what I've heard the current war isn't to the point yet, but I fought five... no it's six years ago now, but it was the same then.

  A year or so of fleet engagements, a few ground wars with more traditional infantry and tank ground-pounding, maybe a few naval officers agree to not fight over a planet and just send the army and marines in to fight one another, usually over those inhabited worlds that can't easily be evacuated. Then politicians lose their cool, ours or theirs, it doesn't matter, and suddenly it's very clear why even us army boys wear completely sealed powered armor.

  I've been on the surface of a world undergoing an all-out battle, warships cracking continental plates as they fall shattered from the sky, nuclear devices breaking hard-points on battle-lines. U.S. Army boys are sent down there to dig the enemy out of mile-deep bunkers because the Navy can't just put a ton of tungsten moving mach-fuck into the ground due to the rules of war. We wade through nuclear wastes, moving through whatever structures still stand, killing every enemy to a man because when you stand on a world that is burning, you don't surrender, and you don't check to see if your foe has the same feelings."

  Shariah interrupts,

  "That sounds like everyone breaks the rules... I can't believe you'd fall to that level. I took you as an honorable man."

  Malakai laughs without any humor, his eyes staring at something many miles away as he keeps going,

  "When you watch a mushroom race into the sky, knowing the flash before was where hundreds, if not thousands, of good men were, enemy or friendly, it doesn't matter, you'll understand there is no such thing as rules and honor, or it just died when the first atomic warhead was fired or launched. It changes your philosophy the first time you see it happen. The first time a ship crashes into a world with the force of a planetary extinction event is jarring; the sound and feeling of the ground beneath your feet is indescribable, as if the world had been alive and sleeping, only to now start thrashing due to the manmade nightmare on its surface.

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  It changes the mind of a soldier; it takes that hopefulness and honorable view of war and turns it on its head. It takes the view of modernity as a whole and shatters it immediately, giving you the understanding that the peace we love, the human experience of love, happiness, continued innovation, and comfort, are all lies we created because in the face of a sun forming on a planet's surface, you understand that it is all insignificant. That the manmade sun, a pale imitation of the stars in the heavens, is the only truth, the violent destruction and creation, a massive cycle, are the only truths, and the only things that matter in that moment where you watch a planet die around you...

  Of course, after a while, this mindset changes, and we go back to enjoying our human comforts, our honor, our rules, and our capabilities. Although late at night or when we close our eyes just a little too long, we see the truth still. The sight of an enemy soldier bleeding out in an irradiated field, or maybe it's a friend, it's a coin toss for me. The sight of the most brilliant light I've ever seen. The ash-covered sky glowing a hellish red as bits of burning space debris fall like brimstone being cast down by God upon the sinners below. Then the worst of all, the silence after... when you pull that trigger, making a squealing enemy go quiet, the sound of your own breath inside your helmet as a haunting silence takes over, and you are aware of your surroundings. Then the sudden switch back to deafening noise and terrible fear.

  Diplo-Colonel Shariah, I asked for my transfer because I have survived this; my mind is already damaged by these types of conflicts. I don't want any more young men to lose sleep at night because they were forced to bear witness to a world dying in violent splendor. I know it's not your call... and I'm sorry if I rambled like the old man I am."

  Malakai's vision returns to Shariah, and his distant and hollow eyes fill with apologetic warmth, almost as if he had no control over what he had just said. The old man shakes his head and then motions for Shariah to say her piece, done talking for the day. Shariah then states, recovering,

  "I'll see what I can do for you, but you do have time before you leave; there are some tasks you and your men are required to do."

  Malakai raises an eyebrow as Shariah finishes her statement,

  "Well... Congress has declared this planet as a protected territory since its own nation abandoned it... and I have been appointed the military governess of this system until it can be fully integrated or can be released as an independent governing body."

  Malakai laughs and asks,

  "And what is it you need from me?"

  Shariah shakes her head with a sigh, stating,

  "You are being tasked with training up a homeguard or self-defense force on the world as the US has called for most of the vessels and miltiary personnel here to return home to help with the war effort, they will also send a National Guard Division to set up shop and help integrate our command structure with theirs as well as to set up some anti-orbital defenses."

  Malakai nods simply stating,

  "Alright, easy enough. I rather like the magic people; they have been rather welcoming to my boys."

  Shariah nods and, with a sheepish grin, says,

  "You're also playing the role of recruiter... and also it's up to you to set up their chain of command."

  The mustached man groans as he can already see the paperwork piling up for him, but as a soldier, he soldiers on, ready to babysit for the next couple of months.

  Allinior Pollitica Sub Renau, or just Al, stands in line among a few dozen others of his hometown, the once destroyed hamlet mainly composed of wood and thatch now composed of buildings of brick and mortar, and some strange gray stone called concrete. He stands proud, his draconic heritage on full display as he towers above the others at the ready. As a member of the Landed Gentry, he was once one of the most respected people in town, just below the local noble who had abandoned them when the King took his grace away from their world. Now, Al finds himself an equal amongst those he used to be respected by, but it doesn't matter to him; he has a duty to fulfil and one he plans to fulfil with his entire heart.

  In front of the line of all the young or physically capable men from the town stands one of the humans, the people from the sky, once called demonic, but Al knows at worst they are just people like him, but they have acted more as angels since the King granted the world his scorn. Food, water, warmth, something called electricity, healing, and housing, all of these things were granted freely by the humans, initially gifted with no ask of repayment, but Al knew this would come, and he plans to pay back those who saved his daughters.

  The human inspects the line, his big glass bowl of a helmet showing his face as he scans everyone gathered. His brown eyes scanning every feature, Al almost feels like a freshly slaughtered livestock being inspected by the butcher on the quality of meat. He then speaks, his voice firm but loud,

  "Alright. Do you all know what we have asked for when we called upon all those able to do service?"

  No one speaks until Al responds for them all,

  "We have come to do whatever tasks you have asked of us. It is the least we can do to repay your kindness."

  The human shakes his head before he continues,

  "This service is not for us humans... well, mostly. It is for your home and for your people. This ask has come around because our government has declared this world to be under the protection of the United States as a protected territory. You are not part of the United States, but are granted the protection of the rights our Constitution has granted us. This means you are no longer subject to any king or lord. You have full freedom to practice any religion you wish, freedom to speak as you wish, and freedom to congregate, move, or do business as you wish. These are rights we cannot take from you. Due to this, we have abolished all forms of slavery and serfdom in this world, so please do as you wish with this.

  All people here are free and are full citizens, with the unalienable right to own property if they have the means to do so. As for economics, we have no say or hand in how you all conduct business so long as it doesn't trample upon the rights of others. Currency is another issue for right now, but we will fix that one soon enough."

  The line of men stares forward awestruck, Al for the village's entire existence was the only non-noble allowed to own property, and it had been part of many village discussions on what to do with the land owned by the deliquent nobles, but it appears the humans are going to let them own it themselves... and Al assumes it will fall upon them to evenly distribute or auction the land as needed. The human speaks again,

  "As for service, we are not asking for workers; we have plenty. We are asking you to form a militia for your world. It is our duty as your protectors to defend you from external threats, but we live so far away and have our own wars, so we are hoping to train and arm the populace enough that you can stand a chance to survive until we arrive. We will grant you our military technology and the skills to utilize it, as well as attach a permanent group of military overseers to make sure you can call for help when needed.

  By service, we are asking you to serve your community and your world, to protect your friends and family, and the new lives you will gain under our wing. The property you earn and work with your hands, the products you make, everything. We are asking you to serve yourselves.

  Again, this role is as a part-time soldier; there will be some extra pay for your work, and all it requires is yearly training, and of course, in the event of an attack from somewhere, you are expected to fight.

  Now, anyone interested, please step forward to sign up."

  The human appears surprised when everyone present lines up to sign. This is because his little sales pitch sold them all, and all were now willing to fight and die for their world, not for their lord or the king, but for themselves and what they hold dear.

  Then a day later, they are all shipped off for basic training...

  Al steps off the dropship back to his home village after training. He is wearing his combat uniform, a surprisingly light set of armor that can apparently defend against most threats he may face. Over his shoulder is slung his main weapon, something called a rifle, something he practically sees as his second wife after what was drilled into him during training. A weapon he thought impossible, a weapon that makes a normal person like him capable of taking on any form of nobility at range, and he is quite accurate with it after training.

  An armored vehicle rolls off the dropship, the one granted to them by the humans to protect their home from aerial threats. He feels secure in his place now, a defender of his home and a truly free man. In his heart, he finds a loyalty he has never felt before toward the humans, those benevolent people from the stars. He hurries home, wanting to see his family and to get to work, all to create a better future, a future directed by him and his friends. A world where birth doesn't matter, only the sweat of one's brow, is the main lesson he learned at basic. The training changed his life, seeing people from all classes treated as one, and he will always ask what someone can do, rather than who they are, before he assigns worth. He isn't like the humans, and he never plans to be, but he has realized what he is during training, something that transcends blood and genetics, he is an American, the protector and enjoyer of freedom...