Across the dozens of core planets on the Eastern Front of the Spark War Zone, planets the Star-Fixing Fleet and the Human Federation's Expeditionary Force had just reclaimed in a crushing advance, despair was giving way to fervor in a transformation like rebirth by fire.
The Zerg clouds that had blotted out the sky were gone. The rumbling silicon megastructures lay in heaps of scrap. For the first time in decades, even centuries, sunlight fell unobstructed on these ravaged human worlds.
In a highly radioactive mine pit ten thousand meters below Resource Planet 102, Federation Marine Corps plasma cutters tore through a heavy special-alloy gate.
Blinding sunlight and fresh air poured into the tunnel. Thousands of human survivors stumbled out of hell, clothed in rags, reduced to skin and bone, their bodies covered in radiation sores. They looked like ghosts emerging after too long in the dark.
Some were former prisoners of war from the Federation garrison. Others were descendants of civilians captured when the planet fell.
Under the aliens' brutal enslavement, they had worked dangerous mining shifts in perpetual darkness. Their lives had long since become expendable figures in calculations of ore output.
At first, many survivors saw the enormous interstellar warships hovering overhead, blue exhaust streaming from their engines, and thought the aliens had sent another fleet of overseers. They instinctively curled up on the ground and covered their heads.
Then they saw the Human Federation's huge star-and-stripe battle flags, stained with smoke and blood, unfurl atop the ruins;
Then Federation soldiers in heavy powered armor, Sparkfire insignias on their helmets and tears in their eyes, rushed forward and held them tight.
"Brothers and sisters... we've fought our way back! You're free!"
For a moment, there was dead silence.
"Aaaaaah!"
Countless survivors fell to their knees on the