These were veterans. Warriors hardened by hundreds of battles. Many had started as simple guards or miners, forced to defend their homes with makeshift weapons. When pirate raids struck, they didn't wait for help; they fought with whatever they had.
Sometimes it was guns, but more often, it was their bare hands, their teeth, and their sheer will to survive. They were born in fire, raised in war, and trained in pain. These weren't just troops; they were survivors.
To them, this invasion was just another day in the cursed outer sector of the galaxy. Another enemy. Another battle. Another chance to protect their home.
And so, as the ground shook and the sky darkened, they readied their weapons, tightened their armor, and stood tall.
Because no matter what came next... they would fight. They always had.
On the northern and southern fortresses that guarded the great city, tension was rising. One of the sharp-eyed soldiers standing on the outer wall raised his voice in alarm.
