FY System, Third Planet
In the planet's low orbit, one could see a great many wrecks of warships — and, among the wreckage, even the bodies of some dwarf soldiers. Not far from these wrecks hung a fleet of warships, 200 or 300 strong. At the very center was a T3-grade warship of the most massive bulk; the T2 and T1 warships beside it were, before it, like small children — not a thousandth of its overbearing might. On the hulls of these ships, all bore a crimson lizard crest. Every one of them was a Fire Salamander warship.
Aboard the Fire Salamander T3 Flagship — Bridge
A starfaring creature with red scale-armor over its skin, standing on two legs, a tail behind it, a lizard's head atop, sat in the captain's chair. Most of the crew across the whole bridge were of this same form. This was the Fire Salamander clan.
That Fire Salamander commander watched several images before him — all of them scenes from the ground battlefield on the planet below. One could see a number of T1 warships that had entered the planet and dropped down a considerable force of combat mecha and ground troops; then, relying on the T1 warships' air superiority, they launched attack after attack on the dwarves still resisting below.
"These puny midgets — they actually dare resist our mighty lizard warriors!" The Fire Salamander commander looked with contempt on the dwarf fighters in the images, resisting with weapons of every kind in hand.
"Commander, look at the agonized faces of these midgets as they die. Let the whole FY System see — this is the fate of any who defy our Fire Salamander clan!" the Fire Salamander adjutant beside him said in excitement.
The Fire Salamander commander gave a cold snort. "Were it not that I have no wish to damage the mineral vein on this planet, or the dwarves' industrial facilities — and that they're born artisans and miners besides — I'd long since have had my fleet bombard this planet from orbit and turn every last dwarf to ash!"
"Once we've taken control of this planet, its dwarves will become our slaves — spending their whole lives' toil to mine out the wealth of this world for us!" the Fire Salamander adjutant said at his side.
The Fire Salamander commander narrowed his eyes. "Once we've mined out this planet's vein, we'll grow our Fire Salamander clan strong on those resources. The chieftain has said: by then we can seize the several surrounding systems, and truly become one of the overlords of this Reef Star Region!"
These Fire Salamanders had already begun to dream of a beautiful future. They looked at the dwarves on the planet, clinging to their last gasp, as one might look at a swarm of ants.
The Planet — Dwarf Command Center
"Report — the Third Shelter has fallen; 30,000 of our people are in the Fire Salamanders' hands!"
"Report — Ground Combat Squad Nine has been wiped out to the last."
"Report — the combat-mecha squad's coordinates were exposed; hit by high-altitude bombardment from a Fire Salamander T2 warship — annihilated!"
One piece of bad news after another spread through the whole underground command post.
A dwarf who looked to be middle-aged sat in his chair, a bandage wound over his shoulder where he'd been wounded.
"Chief… must we go on resisting?" a dwarf beside him asked, rather dispirited.
"Not resist? Would you rather we became slaves under those accursed lizards, then?" the dwarf chief said, seething.
"But… how do we resist? Our interstellar fleet has already been annihilated; all we have left are these laughable ground forces. Their destruction by the warships overhead is only a matter of time," the dwarf beside him said feebly.
"We've already sent for aid to the other dwarf tribes of the Reef Star Region! So long as we hold out until reinforcements arrive, we still have a thread of hope!" one dwarf said.
"Reinforcements? Heh, heh, heh — the other dwarf tribes' fighting strength is no better than ours. You've seen that T3-grade warship in the Fire Salamander fleet! Which dwarf tribe has a T3 warship?" said a dwarf who'd lost all will to fight, with disdain.
At these words, though no few of the dwarves were unwilling in their hearts to accept it, this was the reality — and their present plight.
The dwarf chief picked up the laser pistol beside him and said through gritted teeth, "You're right. This is indeed our present plight. If any of you wish to surrender, I won't stop you. But as chief, I cannot yield to these invaders; I cannot lead my people into their enslavement. I would sooner die fighting than live on my knees!"
"That's right! We dwarves are valiant warriors too!"
"We'll live or die with the chief!"
"Kill those accursed stinking lizards!"
Some of the young dwarves cried out one after another. But a portion of the dwarves kept silent, saying nothing.
"Carry my words to every shelter base. Anyone who wishes to surrender, I won't stop. But I, Bajin, chief of the dwarf race, will bear my honor and fight the Fire Salamanders to the bitter end — even if this is a battle destined never to be won!" Chief Bajin said, unshakable.
Having made this final call to arms, Chief Bajin came to a small room within the shelter. Here were his wife and his five children — two boys and three girls. The eldest had only just come of age this year; the youngest was but 10. All were crowded onto the room's single bed, faces touched with fear, deep in sleep.
"Bajin…" His wife looked at her husband, her expression a tangle.
"The ground forces of our shelter have basically lost their fighting strength; what comes next may be the final battle. I'll lead the last of the combat troops out to fight; by my reckoning we can hold only one to three days before it falls. I've hidden a shuttle at this spot. If… if I should die, then take our children and find a way to leave this place — flee as far as you can!" Chief Bajin handed his wife a bronze key.
His wife gripped the bronze key and looked at her husband, saying in a pleading tone, "Come away with us!"
"I'm sorry. I am the chief of our tribe; I must fight to the very last moment." Chief Bajin stroked his wife's cheek, and looked at the five children lost in sleep. "A pity that, to the end, I never did find our child Annie. Where she went, I don't know — but perhaps it's better than staying here. I only hope she's out there living well."
His wife held her husband tight. She wanted to weep, but feared to wake the children; she could only clench her teeth hard and sob, letting no sound of crying escape.
"Take good care of our children. And if you ever have the chance… go and look for Annie…" His words done, Chief Bajin walked resolutely from the room — leaving behind five children lost in sleep, and a wife with a face full of tears.