Obligatory "I'm on mobile"

The invaders swarmed in from a newly torn rip in space-time. The evacuation of the Federation colony system Ghon' dorr, home to at least one colony city from every federation member, was only half complete.

Line Officer Merry Jones gulped, sucking down the recycled oxygen as best he could. This mission was his first one. It was supposed to be easy, if a little tight. His vision swam and he could barely register the chatter coming from his comms unit as he slumped over on the controls in panic. He didn't even noticed what buttons he had pressed as sat up, still hazy.

The invasion fleet had come 2 rotations ahead of the arrival date that the remaining intelligence agents and military strategists could give. If they had come this early, it meant that they had not just defeated, but completely crushed the forces of the Eldar tasked to hold off the extragalactic invaders until the Terran Union Joint Forces could evacuate the planet. Any help was 3 systems away at best, Merry thought, too far to be any good now.

Ahead of them, the invaders formed up in battle formation, though their ships were still streaming out the portal. In their unending (and by now well documented) cruelty, the ones that had already arrived were picking off the evacuation shuttles.

Fuck, Merry mentally cursed.

"Mooooom, we've been watching these old holo-movies for almost ten hours!" Young Merry complained. "Can we pause it? I need to pee!"

"Merry, we're almost to the best part," his mother sighed. "But fine! Just hurry." Merry scampered off dutifully. These movies didn't make much sense to the 8 year old. For instance, the characters were all using such old technology. Why not use a spaceship instead walking everywhere? Or use a blaster instead of a knife? Still, Merry admitted, it was pretty cool. He could see why his mother liked the holo-movies so much. He just didn't understand why they had to watch all 3 back to back to back every year.

"Commander, what are your orders?"

The questioning voice pierced through Merry's mental haze like a sword. His troops were starting to panic, were already preparing to cut their losses and run, leaving behind 4 million remaining people, Human, Eldar, Khuzdul, and countless other species besides, to these invaders. No, Merry could not allow that. And then, half remembered in his mind, something from his childhood appeared, and he knew just what orders to give.

"Sir, we have an incoming broadcast from the Ghon' dorr system," the Federation Communications technician, an Eldar, alerted her supervisor.

"Patch them through," the communications coordinator, a gruff Khuzdul, gestured.

Immediately a torrent of words from Terra's past came buzzing through the speaker. The coordinator's eyes opened wide. "Did you get that recorded?" he asked his subordinate. "Yessir." "Good. Rewind the message thirty seconds and put me on with our propaganda department, the GNN, and the Galactic Assembly, right now."

Merry's troops waited for their commander's orders as more invaders flooded the system, beginning to surround them.

"Men of Gondor! Of Rohan! My brothers! I see in your eyes the same fear that would take the heart of me."

In what systems remained unconquered, the crowds on capital worlds, trade stations, and work planets all stopped to watch the GNN broadcast on their cityscreens, holo-tablets, and computers.

"A day may come when the courage of Men fails, when we forsake our friends and break all bonds of fellowship" and here Merry had paused slightly for effect, "but it is not this day."

The Galactic Assembly and its war council paused from their briefing and strategizing to listen to the broadcast from the newest front line.

"An hour of wolves and shattered shields when the Age of Men comes crashing down, but it is not this day!"

"THIS DAY WE FIGHT!"

And in the silence of his cockpit, dead still save for the loud beating of his heart, Merry concluded the speech, given as much for himself as for his troops.

"By all that you hold dear on this good earth, I bid you stand, Men of the West!"

Then he gave the orders to attack.

Merry came back from the restroom as quickly as he could. His mom was right, the holomovie was getting good. She said it was called the "Lord of the Rings" trilogy, and it was based on three old books from well before the Terran Union's first contact and the foundations of the Galactic Federation. She used to watch it every year with her parents, and wanted Merry to be in on the tradition too.

"Promise me something, Merry." His mother said when he returned. "Yeah, mom?" "Pay attention to this next scene, and remember, always remember, when the best thing, the right thing, is hard to do, remember what Aragorn said before the Black Gates of Mordor."

"Yes ma'am."

Quietly, when he thought he had shut off the comms, Merry whispered to himself, and to the galaxy as a whole, chuckling.

"For Frodo."

And then he went, guns blazing, to his end.

When the final accounting of the Invasion War took place, the Battle at Ghon' dorr was, militarily, of small account. Before they were all wiped out, the troops overseeing the evacuation had bought time for about sixty-five percent of the colony to fully evacuate. It was less than had been planned, but given that they faced the brunt of the terrible invaders head on, it was nothing to scoff at, either.

But culturally, the sacrifice at Ghon' dorr revitalized the spirit of the Galaxy, Terran words and courage setting alien souls alight. In truth, most member nations of the Federation were making plans for surrender, hoping that throwing themselves at the mercy of these terrible invaders would inspire some leniency when the armadas inevitably came to their worlds. And then Merry, in his panic, accidentally contacted the Federation's Communications Hub, and the heart and spirit of the entire galaxy followed after his words, rising up to fend off the invaders. After all, the young human officer who gave that speech did not abandon their people stuck on Ghon' dorr, even though no one would have blamed him for leaving, even though he likely knew it would cost him his life.

Even if the inspiring speech he gave wasn't really his.

Merry's mother wept as she watched her boy be laid to rest. She knew she had raised him on Lord of the Rings. She had not expected this. On the bright side, she mused, she had plenty of new folks, human and alien alike, to marathon Lord of the Rings with and share all the fun facts with. She laughed, then sobbed.

The gathering dignitaries from hundreds of worlds and dozens of species across the galaxy looked on with awe and pity as she approached his memorial stone. She looked over the white marble, reading it carefully as she said goodbye to her son. It read:

LINE OFFICER MERRY JONES

2982 AD - 3001 AD

BELOVED SON AND GALACTIC INSPIRATION

"THIS DAY WE FIGHT"