Altair Burning

Altair Prime, our blessed home,
shining cities are now dust.
We fled death, must Sector roam,
cinders is now homeworld's crust.

Mighty foe - Antaran fleet -
warned of coming, we prepared.
Our fleets crushed, all forces beat,
people slaughtered, few were spared.

Final flight from fiendish foe,
fleet remainder scrambled - fled -
No clear course, but engines glow.
We seek shelter from foul pred.

K.E. Brenne, a.k.a. "kebzero", January 2002