Special Notes: Something new for my readers, enjoy. Audible Book Chapter File: "The Charge of Denamaus" [A Bonus Story, 175 years after the founding of House Eagle] [House Eagle, Eagle Mountain, Planet Cepheus Major] “Master Rip,” the young Tarlock Priest nudged the sleeping Demonian. “Wake up, sir.” “Huh… what?” mumbles Rip. “The Hatchlings have gathered, sir.” “Where’s Tear?” the elderly Demonian eyes fought to focus and remember where he was. The Tarlock Priest lays his hand gently on the shoulder of the last remaining Founding Father of House Eagle. The others were gone now, Raen and Moeth killed during the 2nd Corax invasion seventy-two years after they arrived on Cepheus, and the rest of old age. The nano virus Raen had passed was first generation and had only given long life. Each subsequent generation would enjoy longer and longer life. The aged Demonian slept most of the time these days, waking only to tell the stories and eat the food provided him. “Master Tear passed away ten years ago, remember,” says the Tarlock. Rip looked confused for a moment and then pushed the Tarlock’s hand away. “Of course… yes… I know that, I’m not addle-brained. Where’s Lord Eagle?” “He visited earlier, but you were sleeping,” replies the Tarlock. “The story, Master Rip,” a brave hatchling calls out. “Yes, yes. I was going to tell you the story of when I fought the bull,” says Rip rubbing the broken tip of his horn, it had never grown back as it should. “No,” all the hatchlings say together. “The story of Denamaus Plains.” “Of course,” says Rip. “The Charge of Denamaus Plains, it was the end of the Kitsune-Demonian War. We had lost the war, our population nearly wiped out, and our planet destroyed, it was to be our final charge. Only twelve million Demonians out of two billion remained, and only two million of those would survive the charge.” “You were there, weren’t you, Master Rip,” says a hatchling. “Yes, I was there,” says Rip closing his eyes, remembering, and beginning the tale.” ***** [Denamaus Plains, last day of the Kitsune-Demonian War, Planet Demonia] “Rip, where are you…” shouts Tear over the clamor of others around her looking for their loved ones. “Over here,” yells Rip pushing against the surging crowd of Demonians flowing into the tunnel. Dirt and rocks were dislodged from the ceiling and fell around them as shock waves from explosions on the surface shook the tunnel. The Kitsune forces had reached the far edge of the Denamaus Plains. “Did you get them to safety?” asks Rip. “Yes, they’re down in the Hell Prison tunnels with the other Daraians. Clap said Raven Intelligence has word that the Carinian Black Guard are trying to run the blockade with evacuation transports. If they make it, the transports will be in Hell Canyon.” "Will they let Raen, Moeth, and the others go?" "I gave the Prison Guard the twenty-thousand we had saved, he said he would let them go." "There's nothing else we can do for them, the Daraians are on their own now." Rip grabs his mate by the arm and pulls her against the wall of the tunnel. The last of the surviving Demonians left on the planet were retreating to the Denamaus tunnels, confusion and panic gripped the swelling numbers of Demonians pushing into the tunnels before the giant steel doors would be sealed. “You made it back just in time,” shouts Rip. “Someone said this is the only tunnel entrance to the City still open.” “Not for long, look,” says Tear. “The Tarlocks are closing the doors.” “There’s still people out there,” shouts Rip. “We can’t do anything, let’s go,” says Tear. Rip breaks free of his mate’s grasp and runs for the giant doors being closed. “NO, STOP,” shouts Rip throwing himself against the door and yelling at the Demonians outside. “Come on, run!” “We can’t hold the doors open any longer,” shouts the Tarlock trying to pull the doors shut. “Their artillery is in range.” Explosions tore through the hundreds still running for the safety of the tunnels. The Tarlock grabbed Rip and threw him back into the tunnel. Rip watched in horror as the doors shut and sealed the fate of those still out beyond the doors. Tear pulls Rip to his feet and they run deeper into the tunnel. The artillery barrage on the surface increased and the ground rolled, threatening to collapse the tunnel. The entrance tunnel opened into Denamaus City, the Capitol of Demonia, seven-hundred feet below the surface. Demonians pouring from the tunnels into the cavernous under-ground city was just short of a controlled riot. Four Tarlocks were shouting into bull-horns at the arriving Demonians coming from the tunnels. “Soldiers and Tarlocks to Sulta Center,” shouted one of the Tarlocks, referring to the Capitol Building. “Farmers and Metal Workers to Creimon Plaza,” shouts another Tarlock. “Seventeen year olds and under to Luctite Square,” shouts another Tarlock. “That’s us,” says Tear. “What do you think is going on?” “I don’t know… Sulta Center is only a few blocks away, but Luctite Square is on the other side of the city. I think maybe they are organizing us for something.” The streets were packed with Demonians waiting, some praying, some cooking over low fires, some sleeping, and others just holding each other. “At least the air is cleaner down here,” says Tear. The journey to Luctite Square, the center of the education district, took longer than it should have. The narrow streets through the cavernous chamber that housed the Capitol City was packed with millions of refugees. “We won’t get there on the ground,” says Rip pushing the door open to a store. “Let’s go to the roof tops.” Rip noticed the store was bare, there was very little left anywhere on the planet, and the Capitol was no exception. They found the stairs and ran to the roof top, others had already had the same thought as Rip, the roof tops were a high-way of activity as Demonians leaped from building to building. Rip hoped to discern some pattern to the chaos, but even from above, that’s all the city appeared to be, chaos, a last desperate rallying of a defeated people fallen to the relentless genocide of the Kitsune. The streets around Luctite Square was crowded with the younger Demonians, some as young as eight or nine years old, and even younger arriving. Tarlocks were moving through the streets shouting instructions. “Follow the wave in front of you… don’t stop running… pick up a weapon when you find one… be brave…” shouts the Tarlock. “What are they talking about?” asks Tear. “Are they sending the hatchlings out to fight?” “I understand now,” says Rip pulling Tear in close and holding her. “There is no evacuation for us, we’re getting ready to make our last stand.” “But the hatchlings?” says Tear beginning to weep, a thing Demonians never did. The Demonians had tear ducts, but it was considered the greatest weakness to cry. Even younger hatchlings were arriving from deeper in the tunnels where they had been hidden during the war. Hatchlings barely able to walk were being taken by the hands of the older hatchlings. The hatchlings were holding sticks, clubs, rocks, and anything they could find that they could use to fight the final battle. Tear buries her face in Rips shoulder. “They’re sending the hatchlings out to be slaughtered.” “This is the end,” says Rip holding Tear. “We are all going out to die, there will be nobody left to care for them. It is kinder that they go with us than slowly starve to death here in the tunnels alone, the Kitsune would never give them mercy.” “What about the eggs?” cries Tear. “I haven’t seen any of the elder Hatching Mothers,” says Rip. “They will probably stay with the eggs and give them mercy.” The city grew eerily quiet, no shouting or crying, and the last of the hatchlings from the lower tunnels arrived. Rip could see it on their faces, even they knew this was the last day for the Demonians. Two hatchlings, both obvious half-breeds without tails, as were Rip and Tear, walked up and held out their hands, there wasn’t fear on their faces, just a quiet resignation. “Nobody will hold our hands,” says the smallest of the two. Tear takes the hand of one hatchling, and Rip lifts the other into his arms. “Stay with us,” says Tear. “We’ll go together.” “The end of Demonia, and still there is prejudice against the half-breeds,” growls Rip. “Don’t let that be your last thought, my mate,” says Tear. “Think of our friends. Remember that first day when the High Priestess brought us to join the Moeth Alliance." "I remember," says Rip. "Raen looked at your backside and asked what happened to your tail," says Tear, laughing a little. "He had such a concerned expression thinking maybe it had got cut off." Tarlocks brought food and a little water for everyone, there were no great speeches and very little information being passed back through the city. Rip wandered around and listened to the conversations and rumors the other seventeen year olds were passing. None would speak to him though, of course. Demonians don't trust half-breeds, without a tail it's impossible for them to speak the Demonian language. Demonia is spoken completely with the tail and body, the verbal language of Demonia was only developed after the first off-worlder arrived five thousand years ago. Rip was a half-breed, and as such was considered a mute, and could lie, he would never be trusted by other Demonians. “Get ready… be brave… stay together…” shouted a Tarlock. Rip ran back to Tear and the hatchlings they would take with them. “Did you find out what’s happening?” asked Tear. “They said we are going to attack the Kitsune in a single last charge,” replies Rip. “They have put us into groups, the soldiers are in the front, and we’re in the last rank.” “What’s taking so long?” asks Tear. “They said Prince Vengeance is assembling us in two-hundred entrance tunnels,” replies Rip. “That’s a long walk to the furthest gates and is taking time to move so many people that far. All the gates will be opened at the same time.” “Let’s see…” Tear does the math in her head. “That’s 60,000 at each gate.” “If we were all to exit from one gate we would be cut down as fast as we could exit, but by splitting us up Prince Vengeance thinks the Kitsune can only concentrate fire on one gate while the rest of us assemble on the Denamaus Plains for the charge.” “One gate is going to be the sacrifice,” says Tear. “We’ll be okay,” says Rip. “I hear we’re going to the Cappati entrance.” “I don’t know which one that is,” says Tear. “It’s the one next to the park with the swings at Cappati Hills,” says Rip. “We went there once when we were little.” “I don’t remember,” says Tear. “You made me push you higher and higher on the swings, then you fell off and blamed me,” says Rip. “Oh yea, I remember that,” says Tear smiling. “But you’re remembering it wrong. I kept saying stop, and you were saying ‘higher? Okay, higher’” “I don’t remember it that way at all,” says Rip innocently. “Hey, something's happening.” The streets ahead of Luctite Square began to empty as the group ahead of them moved forward, heading for the tunnel they would be using. The Tarlock sounded the order to begin moving. They followed along and then turned north and left the city through a tunnel that ran north. The tunnel inclined gently upwards as they moved towards the surface, but it was still almost two hours before they arrived at the Cappati tunnel. A group of soldiers were at the entrance to the tunnel, a pile of lethal Ungula Staves lay on the ground next to them. Rip and Tear were up front with the other seventeen year olds and each took one of the weapons. A Tarlock stood in front at the gate listening to a Com-device, and somewhere in the back was another Tarlock to push everyone forward for the charge. Explosions outside began rocking the ground and many of the hatchlings began crying. Rip tried to comfort the one he was holding, but the hatchling was too small to really understand what was happening. The explosions continued and Rip pressed his face next to Tear’s. “The rumors were wrong,” says Rip. “The charge has already started, they are staggering the opening of the gates to control when each wave goes. Our gate will be opened last to keep us behind everyone.” Rip pushes the hatchling into Tears arms and shoves his way to the front where the Tarlock is standing. “Get back to your place, half-breed,” shouts one of the other seventeen year olds. Rip shoves him aside and faces the Tarlock. “You see my uniform,” shouts Rip. “You know what I am.” “Yes, Raven apprentice,” says the Tarlock. “I know what you are, you should get back to your place now, the gate will open soon.” “No, this is not necessary,” yells Rip. “You can still save our species. Raven intelligence says the Carinian Black Guard are bringing evacuation transports for the Daraians. The fourteen year olds and above will go on the charge, but take the younger hatchlings to the transports.” “It would do no good without a Hatching Mother,” replies the Tarlock. “You have one right there,” says Rip pointing at Tear. “A half-breed?” says the Tarlock shocked. “Being a half-breed won’t effect the eggs she can bare,” says Rip. “Will you let your prejudice rob us of our last chance to save our species.” The Tarlock puts his hand to his ear, listening to an order coming over the Com-link. “They are calling for this gate to open,” says the Tarlock. “For the love of the Dragon, do what’s right,” begs Rip. “The transports will be in Hell Canyon.” The Tarlock looks at Tear and makes his decision. “Bring the Hatching Mother up here,” says the Tarlock. “I’ll take her and the youngest hatchlings north.” “Save our people,” says Rip embracing Tear for the last time. “Fight well,” replies Tear. The gates open and Rip charges out of the tunnel and onto the Denamaus Plains. Tear waits for the youngest hatchlings and with the Tarlock takes them north to Hell Canyon. Without the hatchlings Rip’s wave only had twenty-thousand, but also without the hatchlings they weren’t being held back and sprinted forward with the strength of youth nearing adulthood. Rip’s species was the source of all the legends of Demon’s among the human worlds. All the nightmares, terror stories, and false legends of unspeakable evil had been perpetrated by the Kitsune who now were committing genocide against the Demonian people. The Demonians had suffered five-thousand years of slavery and murder at the hands of those they charged towards. The thousands of years of abuse rumbled under the powerful legs and cloven hoofs of the Demonians as they raced forward. Twelve million Demonians roared and thundered in the single largest attack in the history of all the known worlds. The attack was a futile and last desperate plea for life. The Demonians didn’t even have their own spacecraft, nor had they even advanced past a pre-industrial stage or discovered flight yet. Some of their most elite had been taught to fly spacecraft, and even taken to other worlds to work. The Demonians were a simple and gentle reptilian race, living underground in vast tunnels, but their appearance and natural strength frightened the Kitsune conquerors. Rip echoed the roars of his people thundering across the plains as he charged with his group of twenty-thousand towards the main group already far ahead of them. The Kitsune weapons opened fire on the front ranks of the Demonians, cutting them down by the tens of thousands. Explosions from heavy artillery, armor battalions, and heavy infantry decimated the Demonian ranks. Missiles from orbit rained down on the charging Demonians, but the charge never faltered. The Demonians reached the first ranks of the Kitsune and the horror the Kitsune had envisioned in their deluded nightmares became truth. The second rank of Kitsune sacrificed their own people and rained fire into the first rank. Fifty-thousand Kitsune lay dead among two million Demonians as the charge continued. The second rank cut down another two million Demonians before they were over-run and smashed by the ocean of Demonians still charging. Rip’s group was still trying to catch up with the main force of Demonians, and it was fortunate they hadn’t yet. They reached the position of where the first rank had been and tried hard to not look at the ground. The remaining eight million Demonians slammed into the third rank of the Kitsune. An order was given by the Kitsune Commander Talusino of the Wolf Battle Carrier to empty their remaining missiles into the Demonian charge. The third rank of Kitsune forces perished with five million Demonians. A stray missile slammed into the middle of Rip’s group and he was thrown from his feet and into a crater. Rip rolled under a broken Kitsune tank and was saved from the hail of razor sharp shrapnel fired from a splatter ship in orbit. Rip crawled to the top of the crater, looking for the remainder of his group. Of the twenty-thousand, perhaps five thousand survived the barrage from orbit. The main force of Demonians continued their charge, only three million remained. Rip and his five thousand caught up with them at the fourth rank of Kitsune forces. The Kitsune had no more support available from orbit, and were torn apart by the Demonians. Rip swung his Ungula Stave wildly, no thought, no reason, just survival, and anger. The fourth rank of Kitsune didn’t go down without a fight, one million Demonians fell at the forth rank. The remaining two million Demonians continued their charge. Rip saw Prince Vengeance’s battle banner and roared with pride. But, the Kitsune still had sufficient forces to defeat the remaining Demonians. The charge was a futile effort from the start, but better to die here on the battlefield than hide and wait for the Kitsune to break down the gates and send their nuke crawlers into the tunnels. Rip charged with the remaining Demonians, bracing himself for the weapons fire from the fifth rank, but the fire never came. The fifth rank threw down their weapons and knelt in the position of surrender. The Demonians, even in their anger, were a gentle race and had never, and would never lift a weapon against an unarmed man. The Charge of the Denamaus Plains slowed to a walk and halted less than one-hundred feet from the surrendering fifth rank of Kitsune. Prince Vengeance walked out half-way between the two armies and met the Kitsune Ground Commander, and accepted his surrender. It would be days before it was known why the Kitsune surrendered. Only two million Demonians remained. ***** [House Eagle, Eagle Mountain, Planet Cepheus Major] “It was General Fox, huh?” shouts a hatchling. “Yes, it was General Fox,” replies Rip. “General Fox was secretly Prince Sionnach, exiled when Lord Canusium ‘The Wolf’, killed Emperor Laeten.” “The Fox killed The Wolf,” says another hatchling reciting a memory verse used to teach hatchlings. “Yes, General Fox hid for almost two-hundred years and built up his forces,” says Rip. “He founded House Fox and hid right under the false Emperor’s nose. On the day of the Charge of Denamaus, General Fox boarded the false Emperor’s Battle Carrier and killed him. General Fox revealed himself to the Kitsune people, took the throne, and then surrendered to us.” “We let him go because he was innocent,” says a hatchling. “That is correct, we must never punish an innocent man for the actions of another,” says Rip. “What happened to Hatching Mother Tear?” asks a hatchling. “She made it to the evacuation transports with the hatchlings, and was taken to Carina by the Black Guard,” says Rip. “But she didn’t get to be a Hatching Mother until we arrived here on Cepheus.” “What about Lord Raen and Lady Moeth?” asks another hatchling. “None of the Daraians hiding at Hell Prison made it to the transports,” says Rip. “A Kitsune missile hit the tunnel entrance before they could escape, it took us a week to dig them out.” “Tell another story, Master Rip.” “Master Rip needs to rest,” says the Tarlock caretaker. “You go rest,” says Rip irritably. “How about the story of when I fought the bull?” The hatchlings scoot closer to hear the story.