The Anti Chronicles: Narnethia Part #1

by Adam Narya of Narnethia

http://forums.collegeplus.org/viewtopic.php?f=206&t=6224&start=5580#p336594

Location: Tibet mountain outpost. Time: 6 AM.

The Wardens have briefly left chasing the Luzonians in order to eradicate the Elitinati in Tibet. What they find, however, are Aryan and his Darwens. A terrific battle pitting millions of men against each other commences, and the results are night catastrophic for the environment around Tibet. Meanwhile, Herr Narya, Emperor, has personally traveled to meet his troops in their final victory over the EitE (Elitinati in the East). Inevitably he runs into his anti-twin. A knowing smile is exchanged, a nod of the head - then they are at one another's throats.

First one will get beaten down, only to rise again and turn the tables. Triumph seems impossible, for they are evenly matched. Little did they know, however, that they were ever steadily approaching the portal, one foot back/forward at a time, until they stood on the edge of it. Herr Aryan falls to the ground under a sudden barrage from Narya, but he is able t weather it. Building up to a tremendous knockout punch, he gives it, but in the process of flying backwards, Herr Narya managed to kick him in the chin, causing him to fall backward with a dislocated jaw.

The Emperor landed in the portal field, and almost instantly vanished. Aryan took a good look around, and slowly began to grin, a harsh, lopsided thing due to his new found infirmity. His troops were beginning to rout under the withering fire of the highly disciplined Warden opposition, but he did not care. Though he may have lost the battle, he had won the war. For all one need do, as the game goes, is take out the opponent's king....

The Anti Chronicles: Sho-rock

by Katherine of Sho-rock

http://forums.collegeplus.org/viewtopic.php?f=206&t=6224&start=5550#p333270

...I immediately look in each of the audial library's that I am aware of and find only a cold, shy, demented girl of around twelve. Obviously my men take her in and dress and feed her, but they do not forget to bring along the tape to which she was listening. It is a copy of the scarlet letter. She reacts violently to any touch, even though she is treated with the utmost care. When she is brought to my castle she refuses to walk and is carried through the gates by a village boy. Apparently being scared of men, she is transferred to the care of the palace and to my maidens, the only time she seams to express joy is when they whisper to her; and the sound of wind in the rose garden lulls her to sleep. 

In the morning we awake to find her in that garden, here finger pressed unflinchingly into the longest thorn on a beautiful long stim yellow-tipped rose. A drop of blood trembles down her hand, and her lips twitch ever so slightly with her breath. The Sean is peaceful. I move silently to here side and move to itch her injured hand, when my own hand is inches away she turns her face to me, the face is hard and cold, not in the same way as a statue but in a way that shows that expression has retreated from the features as the mind became more expressive. I pause and then touch the bloody hand, she moves it then, to my face when with the mangled thumb pad she draws a strange check mark down my nose to the jaw and up towards my ear adding a smudge on top of my ear. The others around contemplate moving forward but are still; as are we. Both see the danger in the other. Mere moments later, we move, she to put her injured finger in her mouth and I to touch the design on my face. It is hard. Her blood is red and purple and hard like a mask, my expression is locked into some form that I dare not look at. I send the others away. This is my twin; when she stands up next even those retreating forums can feel the likeness between us even if they had not seen it before. 

She must leave, or we will both be destroyed; both holds power over the other, both counts the other as a threat. She has somehow come from her own detention and posed in mine for this moment when an action must be taken. We move apart, each to her own chamber. I do not bother to wash the chains from my face. The scarlet letter. In it is both blame and respect. I will where it. And I will send her her copy back. I know now what must be done for both of us. I am told that she immediately began the story again when it was returned to her, I couldn't know, I couldn't bring myself to watch. My engineers, magicians, they returned her to her own detention through the story; the story that locked us together and pulled us apart. 

She is gone forever now. The bloody symbol is gone also from my face, but the yellow rose remains, only now instead of a white rose tipped in yellow, it is a crimson, red one, tipped in gold.

The Anti Chronicles: Erronithia Part #1

by Joshua Loomis of Erronithia

http://forums.collegeplus.org/viewtopic.php?f=206&t=6224&start=5550#p333402

The two kings sat across the table from one another. They need not speak, the bonds of space could not separate that which was both one yet two. Nay, they merely gazed, endlessly. Little did their entourage know of the war of thoughts being waged within. Slowly, the Erronithian sovreign rose from his seat. He nodded, and his entourage followed him out of the door. As they exited into his shuttle, he glanced back.

"This is not the end."

"No. of course not," smiled the alternate. "Nay, this is merely the begining."

The two nodded, and the Erronithian shuttle departed to Earth. It landed on the mass that once comprised Erron-vale, that which now was incarnated as Erronithia's most deadly weapon capable of being used planetside. Briskly, the king walked across the runway to the bunker entrance. Once inside, the EMP emmissions severed his link with his alternate. He knew he had only so much time, mere nanoseconds to make an attack. The map lay sprawled out, and he glanced over it. Air force, army, marines, space fleets, espionage, all had to come together in perfect synchronization on a mass attack. Neo Samosa was the target, but that was only the percieved target. Yes, the alternates knew and countered the oves and motives of their origins, but being themselves alternate they were not bound by that restriction. The plan was in place, the time for action had come.

Silently, the Falkyrie II glided through the stratosphere. Closing in on it where three Viper-class Aih'tinorre fighters, ready to shoot it down. The pilot knew his time had come, but he cared not. He knew that this was the price of a patriot. It was a price he payed willingly, knowing the cost of the alternatives at the hands of Kent. Three miles above Neo-samosa, the Falkyrie de-activated it's disruptive EMP shielding and launched five pods. Five Black Hand agents rocketed to the surface of Earth at MAch 3, crashing into the waves of Lake Eerie. Thuroughly disgruntled at the turn of events, the Vipers split to try and catch them. One vaporized the Falkyrie with its twin energy cannons, then followed the other two to circle above the ripples. For an hour, the vultures hovered. Little did they know that the Black Hand operatives had by now reached the shores of Neo Samosa via diving suits, and had begun constructing a porto-rift.

In Erronithia, the 15th Divison idled, standing by in parade formation. Kent watched from space, contemplating on launching a GAOBD to destroy it entirely. Suddenly, the whole Division disappeared. He paused, then it hit him.

"NEO SAMOSA, NOW!!" Shouted the warlord.

Immediately, the HUD brought up real-time imaging of the porto-rift. Through it poured the whole Division.

Kent's fist fell upon the top of a nearby table.

"Deploy the 92nd, fulll combat regalia at 2nd Protocol, NOW!"

The flagship boosted forward, coming into position above the island with all due speed. Immediately, the 92nd Aih'tinorre 92nd Orbital Marines deployed, fully armed and armored. Then, the unspeakable. From approximately five miles off the coast of Neo-samosa came the flashing shots of a high-precision defensive laser, the work of the Eon Antisamosans. One by one, the 92nd disappeared pod by pod in short bursts of fury. Kent spewed forth his rage in a violent stream of vitriol, before turning to the crew.

"DEPLOY EVERY AVAILABLE FORCE, NOW!!! TAKE ERRONITHIA BY STORM! RAZE IT THUROUGHLY, I WANT NOT A STONE ABOVE AN INCH ON THAT WASTELAND!!"

No sooner had he spoken than an ESF fleet dropped out of rift.

Kent stared at it, his eyes streaming hatred.

"The petty fool is reading me now... How he managed it I can't guess but by Jove it won't last," he mused.

Turning, he ordered the remaining Aih'tinorre fleets into position. From the Tibetan protal spewed forth the whole of Kent's fleet, the sheer size of which convinced the Erronithians to with-draw. Yet the damage was done, and a combined force of ELC and Anti-samosans held the beach-head of the island. A beachhead that Kent could only draw against, no matter what he threw at it. Indeed, as long as the Erronithians stayed there, he was caught. He growled, paced, and then cursed. Turning, he paced out of the bridge, wondring what his next move would be.

The Anti Chronicles: Gondor Part #1

by Schylar Reed of Gondor

Location: Top secret Gondorian Bunker
Time: August 9, 1:14 AM


General "Faramir " wearily looks over the maps strewn over the table. He is the new commander of the Black Rifles, having been given the command only recently, and already, he had a greater problem before him than all the previous commanders before him had ever had. "How are we ever to defeat General Meir'boro when he merely copies our ever move?" he explodes. "I send troops to the fortifications in one place, and he does the same; I attack here, and he attacks at the same point, at the same time, with same amount of men! We even lose the same amount of men! It seems the only way we can get rid of this threat to the world is to kill ourselves and hope they do the same!"

Frustrated, the General leaves the dim room and heads to the surface to clear his head. Outside, he walks around, pacing back and forth, racking his brain for a solution. How do you defeat an enemy that mirrors your every move without first defeating yourself? There seemed to be no other solution to the problem other than killing themselves, or marching straight into the portal themselves and leading the White Rifles away from Gondor. He knew his men would not hesitate at either command, but it went against his nature to willing send his men to their deaths. No, he would only exercise those options as a last resort. There must be some other way to win without first losing.

He wished his brother was here. Though most Black Rifles severed all ties with family in order to serve, he and his brother couldn't do it. They had lost their parents when "Faramir" was just a baby, and his brother had cared for him his whole life. They had done everything together growing up, so when his impetuous brother joined the Black Rifles, he had signed up too. "How ironic," he thought, "that he would be known as General "Boromir" and go down in history as a valiant warrior, have his name forever immortalized, and be the last man ever to carry the title of "Boromir", and I should be his successor and be given the name "Faramir". Sometimes fate has an interesting way of doing things."

While he turned to head back into the bunker to see if any new transmissions had come in, he pondered on what his older brother would do. "Boromir" would have known exactly what should be done; he always had a grand plan. If only he could catch just a glimpse of one of those plans. As he strode past the sentries and through the hidden door, it came to him like a thunderbolt. Wheeling around in the doorway, he understood. "It would be just like this." he thought. All he would have to do is get them this far, and then get out of the way in time! But, he shuddered at the thought, the cost would be great. Very great. Yet, it must be done. Standing in the doorway, he now knew what to do. He sent one last glance at the sky before heading underground and sent a quick whisper of thanks. "Now," he thought, "it's my turn to save Gondor."

Next: Part II

The Anti Chronicles: Luminne

by Olivia of Luminne

http://forums.collegeplus.org/viewtopic.php?f=206&t=6224&p=338599#p338017

Odalys stood watching the Schinaam soldiers hurrying all over. She shivered and hugged her parka closer around her as the wind gusted through the encampment.

"Come on," Odalys whispered, "Show yourself, you coward."

"You call me a coward?" Odalys jumped at the voice in her head. She stared into the distance, and her eyes caught sight of a darkening horizon.

"Captain!" Odalys yelled. The captain ran up to her almost instantly. "Its time. Ready the men."

"Yes ma'am." Odalys turned back to the horizon, hearing the flyers screech their battle cry. She turned away defiantly and went to her tent to suit up. Once she had on her armor (a special Schinaam creation. Able to withstand heavy blows, both laser and physical), she equipped herself with a pistol and a Schinaam spear.

"M'lady," the captain looked nervous, "Please, I beg you to reconsider-"

"Captain," Odalys looked at him sharply, "Do not question my actions. I would not do this if I had not thought long and hard about it. I am prepared for what is come." The captain bowed. Odalys left the tent without another word.

Within the hour Atis had come, her and her army. She looked almost exactly like Odalys, but with a face of pure evil. Odalys did not waste time locating her twin. The woman stood waiting for her, watching her every move as she approached. Their armies clashed around them. Atis had apparently created a barrier between them and their armies. No help would come today.

"You are a fool to face me," Atis snarled. Odalys watched her calmly, "You come to me with no one with you?"

"I don't need anyone this time," Odalys replied confidently, "I can take you down by myself."

"Such confidence," Atis scoffed, "It's not like you to act and speak so independently. Surely you don't think you can face me alone? Look around you! My army is your army's worst nightmare. My Narakraz Warriors will leave no one alive."

"Your warriors will die before they even lay a finger on my men," Odalys countered. Her lip curled into a malicious sneer, "And I will enjoy every minute of it." A flash of confusion flew across Atis's eyes.

"Where is the caring, loving woman I know, hmm?" Atis smiled, taking another approach, "She would not want to see innocent lives be hurt."

"Yes I would," Odalys nodded, "Oh, how I'd love to see that."

"What is wrong with you?!" Atis screeched, "You're behavior is entirely unacceptable!"

"Oh, don't even go there," Odalys walked around the perimeter of the barrier. She tapped it with her spear, and the weapon nearly flew out of her hand. "Impressive. So it keeps us in. What does it do to those who are out?" The spearhead emitted a rosy color. A nearby enemy soldier suddenly soared across the field and into the barrier, his scream was cut short as he disappeared.

Atis stared in shock. Odalys fingered the spearhead daintily. "So, that's what it does... Very nice."

"Of course you would use my own soldiers," Atis recovered herself, adjusting her maroon colored jacket. "You wouldn't dare use your own-" Atis cut herself off as a Schinaam soldier flew into the barrier and disappeared. "What are you doing?! You can't just kill your own men! Are you mad?!"

"Last time I checked, I had all my marbles," Odalys smiled sweetly. "Oh, I am going to enjoy this. How about a few more?" The captain flew overhead and into the barrier. Odalys laughed at the look of horror on Atis's face. "Surprised, sister?"

"No! This isn't how you behave!" Atis yelled. "You don't just-" Atis screamed as Odalys shot her in the shoulder with her laser pistol.

"Why not? It's so much fun," Odalys sneered, "The pain on their faces. Their agonized screams. I love it." Atis looked terrified.

"You're bluffing!" She shouted, "You're making it up!"

"Am I?" Odalys shot her again, "You have just witness three murders. Completely voluntary. I was not forced in any way. Not influenced. Do you think it's a bluff now?"

"No!" Atis screamed, clutching her head, "This isn't how it is to be! You can't-"

"I can do what I want," Odalys snarled, "I don't need anyone to tell me what to do." Atis screamed again. Odalys was drinking it all in. "I think it's time for us to part. You may leave."

"No! I will kill you!"

"Not if I do it first," Odalys slammed the butt of her spear into the rocky ground, and the barrier shattered. "You should really use something I don't know how to disable." Atis didn't seem to hear. She was clutching her head and staggering back. Odalys smiled gleefully. She gripped her twin's arm and yanked her to the ground.

"Sayonara," she whispered, "And don't come back!" Atis screamed. Her body looked as if it was being pulled into the sky. Atis's army were swept into the sky with their mistress, right into the cursed portal they had come from. The Schinaam whooped and cheered. Odalys sighed with relief, rubbing her eyes. The captain, perfectly whole and well, ran up to her.

"Queen," he said urgently, "We must get you to the palace."

"Very well," Odalys nodded, "Help me, if you would. I now realize how much I hate my twin. Having to act like her made me see how truly vile she is."

"You did splendidly," the captain encouraged, "The dummies you had built were perfect."

"All the same, I don't want to ever do that again."

Odalys was taken to her rooms. There, she changed into a casual dress and tried to recover. Even though they were dummies, the scientists had made them so life-like it still hurt, making them fly into the barrier. Shooting her twin wasn't as bad, but it still made her feel horrible.

"Odalys!" A male voice shouted, making her jump. A young man burst into her room.

"Thank you for knocking," she chided harshly.

"Apologies," the young man bowed. But he clearly didn't mean it. "What just happened?! You went to war?! Your ambassador is furious! I just barely manage to persuade him to remain at his station, but he made me come instead. What were you thinking?!"

"I was thinking about was was best for my country!" Odalys rose to her feet. "Be careful how you speak to me, Zakar." The young man lowered his eyes.

"I'm sorry," he said quietly, "May I ask how you did it? The soldiers aren't quite the most reliable source, and the captain won tell me anything."

"I'd be happy to," Odalys smiled, "My twin is, as you may know, my exact opposite. She hates me with all her being, and despises all I do.

"It took me a few nights to discover how I could be rid of her. I realized battling her would be of no use, because she and I are evenly matched. I realized, very late in the night, that there was one way I could win, without outright killing her.

"I realized that since she is my opposite, she adores all I hate. That includes pain. I don't like seeing others in pain. So, I thought, what would happen if I did? I had no idea how to go about this line of thought, so I brought in someone who is a professional with acting as different personalities from his own."

"A movie actor?" Zakar smiled, understanding.

"Yes, a movie actor," Odalys nodded, "I was able to hire the best. Over the past few days she helped train me to think, feel, and act as my twin does. It was by no means enjoyable, but I was sufficiently able to look and sound convincing."

"No offense, m'lady," Zakar said, trying not to smile, "But the thought of you in such a way is rather terrifying."

"I felt the same," Odalys smiled, "But I did it, somehow. When I faced my twin, I immersed myself in her ways. I led her to believe I voluntarily killed my soldiers. But they were only dummies. I behaved with all the cruelty she possessed. And in the end, it drove her mad."

"Why?" Zakar was totally absorbed in the story.

"Because it's not how I am," Odalys replied, "To her, I am not a killer. I prefer to care for others. When she saw me ruthlessly murdering, she didn't know how to respond. She couldn't like me. She hates every part of me, and she can't change it. I was starting to act as evil as she was, and she couldn't adjust. She is my evil twin. She can't become to good one. It didn't help when I behaved as if I didn't need anyone to tell me what to do."

"But, highness, you don't."

"True, but I can't always make educated decisions by myself. After that, she was completely immobilized," Odalys shrugged, "It was an easy matter to send her through the portal." Odalys went to her desk. "Now, if you would, please send me a messenger, I have correspondence to attend to."

Day of Reckoning ~ Prologue

by Leslie Conzatti. Used with permission.
http://forums.collegeplus.org/viewtopic.php?f=226&t=7870

Prologue, Part 1--Eillumaeia, The Land of the Elitinati
Dawn rose over Eillumaeia, the same hazy greyness that had overshadowed the landscape ever since the day the Council of Elitinati convened and amongst themselves decided that the entire nation should comply under one system of belief and governance, establishing the Six Pillars of Illuminus, and establishing that there would be no other law, and any voice of dissent must be silenced.
In the years that followed, the Elitinati enacted their control. The borders of Eillumaeia became readily evident, as every inch of them became lined with walls, both invisible magic and visible stone and iron. Guards patrolled the borders, not just keeping watch over the people coming in--but also seeing that no one left without proper authorization. Elitinati schools and "church-temples" were established in the large cities, and all other houses of education or worship aggressively abolished.
The Council decided on laws, the Council oversaw the training of the military, and the Council proclaimed the Principles of Elitinati as the final word in scientific discovery, both magic and concrete. Any sort of "miracle" or "anomaly" could and should be explained by the Elitinati, and anything they did not deem worth explaining or exploring was dismissed as "falsified data" or "irrelevant mystique." In order to be accepted as an influencing voice in the Elitinati Council, one had to prove their dominance over the Elitinati. Therein the peoples fell; no one could overshadow the Elitinati. Their only hope was extensive study and meditation, to become wiser than the Council; but if the Council controlled the education, what more could anyone learn beyond what the Elitinati already knew? Even the news bulletins and the entertainment was geared toward Elitinati dominance. It was a normal way of life for even the fiction world, and as for the news--well, one never heard much from the world outside, but what of that? What was so important that one could not be satisfied to tolerate the "broad" ways of the Elitinati? Could they not be content in their situation? So long as the Pillars stood, the Elitinati provided comfort for its compliant citizens. They "listened" sympathetically to all complaints and questions, then answered them according to their great wisdom, correcting the person's "mistaken hypotheses" and sending them on their way with a "better understanding" of the "right" way to view the world. A series of gas-spewing factories provided the illusion of economic and employment security, and the overrule was complete.

At Gate SE14, along the southeastern border of Eillumaeia, the captain on duty, Sir Lyam, snapped to attention as the cry of a wind-whistler echoed through the trees. There were no wind-whistlers anywhere near the gates of Eillumaeia, of course--but there were those who could make themselves invisible in the trees, and imitate the noise perfectly.
Sir Lyam peered through the fetid smog as he listened carefully to the steps approaching, knowing that this was all the warning he would get before the traveler (or travelers) came into sight, at which time an enemy would be close enough to kill Lyam and all of his men.
today, he heard one set of footsteps. A lone traveler, walking very slowly, and very softly. Lyam had to strain so hard to listen for the footfalls that he had to fight to maintain his composure when the traveler cried, "Ho!"
Lyam jerked upright and squinted through the fog; the traveler stood just close enough for Lyam to make out his silhouette, but remained at enough distance to be shrouded in fog.
"Step forth and identify yourself!" Sir Lyam commanded.
The stranger took one step forward, and in a strange, hollow voice, replied, "The Illuminus is the root, the Elitinati is the tree, and the Council is the crown."
Such was the traditional incantation of only the ones lucky enough to be selected for training as an Elitinati, at their chief Training School at the heart of Eillumaeia. Sir Lyam immediately bowed, acknowledging the Elitinati affiliation of the stranger, even if this person was only a novice in the school. Furthermore, Lyam knew that to press an Elitinati for further identification was to risk an inquiry into his own insubordination that would inevitably result in his being sent to work in the deepest regions of the largest factory.
"Enter, O Great One," Lyam replied, opening the magic gate and the iron one for the traveler.
The stranger entered the magic curtain, but paused before the iron gate.
"Tell me, captain," the stranger spoke in that same, strange-sounding tone, that bore alternately a soft treble and a firm, dark sound, "Have you served as Gatekeeper long?"
Sir Lyam considered this question odd, but he did not hesitate as he replied, "Ever since my younger days, Your Excellence."
"And you have seen everyone and everything that has come through this gate since that day?"
Sir Lyam nodded, "I have seen everything, O Enlightened One."
The faceless traveler gave a light chuckle, and responded, "Only one thing you have not seen, Captain; that which I am. Remember this day," the traveler at last stepped through the gate and into the outskirts of Eillumeia, "For today you have seen the Reckoning of the Elitinati!"

Dark Fortress Assault (CP! Universe)

The CP! Universe of WW3

Dark Fortress Assault

Schylar Reed of Gondor: http://forums.collegeplus.org/viewtopic.php?f=206&t=6224&start=4695#p300824

The Elitinati MUST be stopped! It's time to fight!

Despite the loss of many Black Rifle soldiers on Reach, the cops is still functioning. Flooded with new recruits, they begin planning their revenge. Despite repeated warnings of the impossibility of it actually succeeding, General "Boromier" (every commanding General of the Black Rifles uses this title. Their reall names are hidden for security purposes) decides to take the fight to the enemies stronghold by attacking the Black Fortress. This impenetrable fortress is used as the Elitinati's main base for all operations on earth; the heart of all Elitinati operations begins here.

Undaunted by the task, General "Boromier" leads the troops in himself

The 9th Assault troops assisted by the 3rd Snipers come in from the north, while from the southwest, the 10th and 2nd Rangers slip up in stealth speeders. From the east, the 8th and the 1st entrench themselves in the Elitinati's only escape route. The enemy is completely blocked in.
Right as the last units get into place, both the 5th and the 6th Sky Hawks begin dive bomb runs from the Sting in space. They concentrate all fire on the center of the fortress. With confusion now on the outer lines of where the attack is happening, General "Boromier" orders the troops forward.



Despite being surprised by the attack, the Elitinati soldiers stand fast. They fear the wrath of their masters far more than the bullets of the Black Rifles. With bombs falling around them and furious supersoldiers attacking, they do not break and run, but rather remain and fight. For some time, the contest is doubtful.

As the fight continues, the ranks of the Black Rifles slowly thin, while the enemy grows more numerous with each passing minute. General "Boromier" knows something must be done, or soon all will be lost. "Follow me", he gestures to two young recruits. "If we capture those upper defenses, we could turn those guns away from our men and into the enemy." With no more than two men behind him, the General blazes ahead, guns aflame. The very sight of him leaves no doubt of why he is the head of the BR. Reaching the defenses, they quickly knock out the gunners and the recruits man the guns while the General holds the stairs. The tide begins to turn!

With the guns now firing into their backs, the enemy becomes disorganized and falls back to the inner keep. For a brief moment, all fighting ceases. General "Boromier" leaves his station to pear over the battlements to issue orders to his remaining soldiers. Suddenly, both of his gunners are shot down down. He whirls around, only to see dozens of enemy soldiers blocking him from the stairs. Trapped, he does the only thing possible, he prepares to fight!


Josh's support divisions arrive at just the right time. Scores of bombs and missiles rock the fortress sending everyone running for cover. "Boromier's" assailants dive beneath the ramparts, giving him just enough time to leap off the wall to the ground 50 feet below. His suit takes most of the blow, but even so, his right leg buckles underneath the tremendous fall. He is left limping, but he has no time to worry about that now. While Josh's divisions are still keeping the Elitinati occupied, he rallies the troops and prepares to lead the attack on the inner keep. "To me!" he cries, "To me, men! We have a fight yet to win!" Bolstered by their general's rallying cry, the Black Rifles renew the attack with vigor. The final battle for the Dark Fortress begins.

The 10th begin scaling the walls, while the 3rd Snipers pick off any enemy soldier that dares show their faces. The 2nd plant explosive charges on the main gate, while the 1st, 8th, and 9th, rally around "Boromier" in the center of the courtyard. At the General's signal, the charges are detonated and the gates are blown of their hinges. With a great cry, the Black Rifles pour into the keep!

Though severely outnumbered and outgunned, the courage of the Rifles wins the fight. Soon, the Elitinati are fleeing in droves. Top ranking officials use escape pods to leave earth and return to their ships in space. They leave behind them the smoking ruins of the Black Fortress.

But General "Boromier" is not finished. Taking with him some of the few remaining Rifles, he races to get to the airfield. They arrive just in time to intercept Eliua Orvenston, "Mr. Shark's" right hand man. His bodyguards, the Elantini Pillar Guards, attempt to clear a way through to his escape pod, but the Rifles aren't about to be thrust aside just like that. Vicious hand to hand combat begins.

The guards prove to many for the weary Rifles, and one by one they are taken down. Finally, only "Boromier" is left. His leg is almost crippled now, and the remaining guards move in to finish him off. But "Boromier" didn't come through fire and bullets just to fail in his objective. Pulling the pins of his remaining grenades, he tosses one into each of the Pillar guards cloaks. The explosions kill most of the remaining guards, and before their stunned partners can recover, "Boromier" neatly guns them down. Now, it is just him and Eliua. "Give it up, soldier, you cannot withstand me. I am Eliua Orvenston, a leader of the Elitinati! Against my powers you do not stand a chance" Eliua cries. Crippled, bloodied, and exhausted, "Boromier" falls to his knees and for the first time in his life, the thought that he might not be able to win this fight crosses his mind. Eliuam sensing his foe's weakness, and walks forward and stabs the exhausted "Boromier" in the gut, letting him fall to the ground. "You puny humans will never defeat us. You haven't the strength nor the guts." he says scornfully as he sheathes his sword. Walking into the pod, he turns around to say one last word to his dying enemy. He stops, stunned. With a super human effort, General "Boromier" stands up. "You're wrong, Eliua! We will never stop fighting, we will never stop struggling, we will never stop resisting you until we have driven every last one of Elitinati from this earth!" With that he gives on last squeeze of the trigger and fires his remaining rounds. Having given it his all, he and Eliua fall to the ground together in death.

Epilogue: When the surviving Black Rifles arrive at the airfield, they are too late to save "Boromier". He lies fallen among the bodies of his enemies. His body is reverently carried back to Gondor where it is buried with the greatest respect possible. The mission is a success, and the Black Fortress is reduced to rubble, but the cost is great. Over 9/10 of the Black Rifles never return from the fight, and their leader will never again rally the troops. The remaining Rifles return to their base where they will attempt to restore the Black Rifles to their former glory. Sadly, many days will pass before they will ever be truly at full strength again.


Sorry to all who are wondering what the heck I'm doing. I wanted have an epic story of the Black Rifles, and once I got started, I figured I would finish. Sadly, my writing skills don't do it justice. It sounded much better in my head than it does on paper.