Dalenthia

Aeons ago, we - humanity - were a proud race. Restricted to one planet - Galen, sure, but proud, nonetheless.   It is now 12800 AFDE, and Humanity - and her client races, are on the brink. Constant wars have worn down the once proud navy of Humanity, and as her soldiers are besieged on all sides - one thing is clear - they are losing.   A once proud federation of species, close to achieving the utopian ideal that they once wished for - close to achieving paradise, sweet, sweet paradise itself, torn asunder by civil war and conflict.   This is the story of the remnants of a once great nation - of the Ruminant refugee fleet, of the 81st Armored, of the scattered, trapped, idealistic survivors of humanity and Dalethia, who look at entropy with hard faces and refuse to blink, the last ditch stands to ensure evacuation, fleets being constantly beset by hundreds - thousands of enemy ships, of the scattered last transmissions of hundreds of battlegroups across Dalenthian space, of climatic battles being won and lost - and of lives, dear lives, valuable - valuable - human lives, lost to the wind.   This is their story.