The Alessian Era

[Cylienia]

It was a time of peace and prosperity. The Cylienians, headed by the god-king Alessia, flourished among the stars. Alessia once walked as a terrestrial man, over a millennium ago, but excessive genetic manipulation left him immortal. Not only this, but he was no longer a man; rather, he felt much more like a god as his title suggested. A dozen feet tall, several hundred pounds of steel cable-like muscles, he literally shook the ground when he walked. When he spoke, it was felt in the bones. He was truly a god.

And this was his empire.

The Cylienians had relocated to a faraway galaxy within the Aemor Supercluster and settled in well. Multiple planets had quickly been colonized and stripped of resources to further the Cylienian machine. The exact purpose of their exploitations was known only to a select few, but most willingly followed orders.

This was the Alessian Era, and the Cylienians were walking as gods among the stars. All seemed well...too well.

[Cylienia]

On the fringes of some dark and cold solar system, low in orbit over an icy hunk of rock that barely qualified as a planet, sat a massive bloodred ship. It was the IVS Bloodraven, capitol ship of the Royal Expeditionary Force commander, Royal General Maars Raemstein. Normally, a crucial command ship such as the Bloodraven would never be caught hanging around some distant, dangerous system like this one...unless something major happened.

And indeed it had. For on the surface of this planet was a crashed ship, smaller than the Bloodraven but at least a corvette-class. It was a dull gray hunk of metal that smoldered mildly on the ground in pieces. Several red-clad REF soldiers moved through the remaining ship's corridors, hunting for survivors. This ship was definitely of human design, but it was not from this system. In fact, its system dialogues and languages were unlike any in the entire known Cylienian empire. So where had it come from?

This is exactly what Raemstein was trying to get out of one of the ship's survivors.

He was clad in gray armor, completely devoid of any color. His features resembled that of man, but not quite the same as Cylienians. More rounded, less tall and thin. Smaller eyes. Rounded teeth, not the pointy needles like Cylienians had. He was half-alive, but he tried to tell Raemstein what he knew. Something about "not your enemy" and "they're overwhelming" and "help us". That's the one phrase he kept repeating, "help us".

Us? Who is us?

"Our worlds are burning...we need your help. They're overwhelming us...outnumbered...relentless."

"They? Who are they?"

"I...I don't even know. They...not human. I think."

The man could not speak after this, as he was clearly slipping away from life. Raemstein ordered the man to be brought aboard his ship and treated; they needed him alive for further information. This was clearly something urgent...

[Vaal-Tahr]

It all started with one man. One man who knew the inside plans of the Cylienian war machine. One man who understood what Alessia was doing and how it would affect everyone.

Retired General Tyrus Vaal'Ardon. A Royal Expeditionary Force general responsible for a vast majority of the training for REF soldiers.

Vaal-Tahr is a region on Nova Cyla, the capitol planet of Cylienia, where the REF trains and hones their war skills. General Vaal'Ardon is a native-born man of that region who rose to power to oversee training; in fact, the only general who outranked him was Royal General Raemstein who ran the entire branch. But Vaal'Ardon knew things most others didn't about Cylienia, and he decided to challenge Alessia's rule directly and threaten to secede from the rest of the empire. He felt the god-king was becoming too unstable and that the people were neglected. He quickly found that he was not alone in this thinking, and not long after he declared himself Governor of Vaal-Tahr.

This enraged Alessia; he would not have his own home planet torn apart. His empire would remain together at all costs.

For months, tensions rose between Alessia and Vaal'Ardon. Mobilization of troops on both sides began, and the border between Vaal-Tahr and the rest of the area became increasingly volatile.

This would be the beginning of the end.