Orbital station Dukokus VII slowly made its daily spin
around the dead moon of the same name. Unrelenting in its movement, it encircled the celestial mass much like a satellite,
never breaking free of its rhythm or given path. Its life was simple and monotonous, rarely ever escaping into any realm of
adventure or eventfulness. Yet, when the day came that such adventure would come, the break would be short-lived. It would be
a day long remembered. The events would be those to determine the future of all of Saladium, for many years to come.

“ Commander, what is our current status?” inquired a tired station Captain to his chief of operations.
“ All systems are functioning well within normal parameters, Captain. Full diagnosis will be completed within the
hour.”
“ Very well. Proceed, Commander.” he replied calmly, as he always did. The station lacked any activity, beyond actions
which were derived from the book, that life perpetuated itself in a seemingly repetitive manner. This diagnosis, like the
other fifty done within the last week, would show little sign of change. Nothing new. Simply ordinary.
But for the most secure penetentiary in the Confederacy, what else could be expected?
The Captain wandered about his bridge, going over a visio-text in hand, which detailed the latest shipment of
criminals who had been dropped off. The list named off over three hundred different identities, none which sparked any
interest in the Captain. Of course, this was due mainly to his general lack of interest in his duties as a whole, and so he
did as he often did, he merely skimmed over the list. Sometimes he’d keep an eye out for names of those who had
received excessive media coverage, but on this list he found nothing. Just a pile of faceless names. In a way he was thankful
for not having to know any of them, so a simple list verification suited him fine.
He passed the visio-text over to the Commander, and authorized the list with a quick signature, then checking over
the diagnosis data in hopes of finding something new. Something beyond normal. Something perhaps even extraordinary.
That was not to be. Apparently a riot had erupted in the lower half sector of the violent offenders ward, and a fatal
food-fight had taken place in the dining halls less than an hour before. Hoping sincerely it wasn’t the cook’s fault for the
ordeal’s lethalness, he moved on to other less-than-interesting reports. Thirty deaths due to inter-cell
recreational activities since yesterday, and forty new reports of injury due to inmate harassments and inter-racial
disagreements. For a penetentiary of over one and a half million prisoners, this was nothing amazing. Just plain day-in,
day-out news.
His Commander returned with the full diagnosis minutes later. He signed it, handed it back for his second-in-command’s
approval, then had it sent to Spacecom HQ as was customary and mandatory. Spacecom always wanted to know what was happening
with its judicial system. The Judiciary Council was none too nice about poorly run penitentiaries, and Dukokus VII was no
exception.
The Captain slowly walked around the bridge, glancing at consoles, manipulating a few controls, and occupying his time
with petty problems and non-constructive activities, as there were simply no constructive ones to do. Ever since he had been
posted here six months ago, he had regretted the move, off of the Regalia X outpost to this more prestigious position. Had he
known so little ever occurred on a station that served as a prison, yet still the largest of its kind in U.C.I.A. space, he
would have turned down the offer in favour of a prolonged service aboard Regalia X. It was of little consolation for him,
knowing it would be more than eighteen months before he would be able to be re-assigned. How he dreamt of the command of a
starship. But it seemed all so terribly far away. Would it ever come?
Then the Red Alert status sirens and lights blasted forth into the quietness.
“ What the hell? Who authorized the Red Alert?” yelled the Captain. “ We’re going to have total chaos down there if we
don’t shut it off!”
“ Sir!” declared an officer from a console across from the Captain. “ We have an entire armada of ships decloaking off
the starboard side!”
“ A what?”
“ Sir, we have ten ships closing in on our position. Do we raise the shields?”
“ Are you crazy? Who are they? This is Confederacy space!”
“ Ten unidentified ships.- Heavily armed.- Closing fast.”
“ Geez.” muttered the Captain, totally unprepared for this event. “ Th-then raise the shields. Raise them fast. Send to
Space Command. We require assistance. Priority One. Do not delay!”
His Commander returned to the bridge. “ Sir, the shields are not responding! We’ve got a general shutdown of all major
station systems in five minutes unless we revoke the demand for the shields. We just can’t handle it.”
“ Why didn’t you find that in the diagnosis, Commander?”
“ We didn’t do a diagnosis of the shields. The last time they were used was when the station was built, as a test run,
eight years ago!”
“ How long ‘till you can get them working? We’ve got less than two minutes before they arrive.”
“ There’s just no way, Captain! No way! The main generating core has been bypassed by the shield systems in favour
of the auxiliary systems, which don’t even exist! Took them out two years back ‘cause they took up too much room! Who’d ever
thought we’d need them?”
“ Can you re-route the shields back to the main generator core, instead of the auxiliary?”
“ Give me time. I might be able to-”
“ Just do it, Commander! On your way!”
The officer strode off the bridge and headed down to the reactor core to attempt to transfer the energy lines back to the
main power source, as they should have been. But his actions were in vain. Too little too late. A station deep inside
Confederacy territory, and as safe as Earth itself. Little did either he or his Captain know how close the Rebel Manojarrans
had come to destroying Earth. Surely if Earth could be so closely threatened, so could a mere orbital station.
The fleet of ships closed in and fired. Ten ships. Ten torpedoes.
And one colossal explosion.