“Squadron Commander Xiao,” it blared, causing aches that rolled from his temples into his teeth. “Your presence is requested immediately in the War Room by Captain Hodge. Please verify receipt of this request.”
Yen yawned and brushed the hair out of his face in order to better wipe the sleep from his eyes. He fumbled, searching for the transponder on his nightstand, but only succeeded in knocking his alarm clock onto the floor. He heard the crackle of the intercom as he noticed the transponder resting absently on the floor, no doubt still sitting where it was dropped forgotten the night before.
“Squadron Commander Xiao,” the announcement continued, funneling its request directly into his room. “Your presence is requested…”
“I’m awake!” he roared, drowning out the intercom with his own angry yell. “Can’t you hear me, you asshole? I’m awake!” Reaching down, ignoring the lights that burst in front of his vision as he bent over, he grabbed the transponder and activated its signal.
“I heard you the first three times!” he yelled into the microphone.
“Many apologies,” the voice replied over the handheld receiver. “Captain Hodge requests you at the War Room for a strategic conference.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he muttered to himself before pressing the send button. “Let her know that I will be there shortly.”
He tossed the transponder across the room and threw his legs over the side of the bed. Though he wasn’t sure if he could keep down breakfast this morning, Yen’s belly still growled angrily as bile sloshed from side to side in his empty stomach. As much as he would have preferred a chance to eat, he was already running late. He didn’t want to be the reason all the other officers on board had to wait to start the meeting.
He stripped out of the pajamas that his aides had clothed him in the night before and staggered, naked, to the shower. His yellow skin stood in stark contrast to the sterilized white tile of the bathroom as he entered. Turning on the water, he let the jets wash over his body. The spines on his back rose in response to the pleasure he felt as the hot water cascaded onto his tense shoulders and ran, dripping, from his long dark hair. Trying his best not to lose track of time while enjoying the shower, he pressed the knob to deactivate the water and grabbed a towel from the peg on the wall. Yen dried quickly and pulled on his dress uniform; its dark grey fabric signified that he was an officer of the Alliance Fleet while the rich purple piping along the shoulders and sleeves signified him as Squadron Commander.
Exiting his room, Yen’s boots clicked loudly on the metal floors of the ship as he made his way to the lift. Stepping inside, he entered his command code and the doors slid shut before him. He felt a twisting in his stomach that he knew was a sickly combination of hunger and nerves, the latter being caused by him being late to the meeting. He dreaded confrontation with any of the senior officers, though there were only two that outranked him aboard: Captain Hodge and Eminent Merric, the tactical officer. Still, with his powers acting so unpredictably, even the smallest disagreement could quickly turn lethal. His fears subsided as the doors opened on the War Room. Though he was the last to arrive, many had still not taken their seats around the circular table that dominated the center of the room. Small clusters of officers — with their orange, yellow, and red piping signifying their ranks — stood around the numerous displays on the side walls, many of which showed the progress of the Alliance Fleet as it raced through the void of space.
As Captain Hodge, her own captain’s piping a brilliant white, noticed Yen enter, she called the room to order and invited them all to take their seats. Yen made his way through the crowd and sat two seats down from the Captain; only Merric sitting closer to her due to his rank. The others spent little time with cordial salutations, instead focusing on the three dimensional map of the universe that floated above the center of the table.
“Welcome, all of you,” Captain Hodge said, drawing their attention to her position at the table. “We are faced with a situation we were not expecting and have, therefore, not planned for accordingly. We are now pursuing the entire Terran Fleet through space in an attempt to destroy the last vestiges of Terran existence. However, we are also facing one of the biggest catastrophes in Alliance history as one after another of the suns in Alliance space are being blacked out by Terran deception. You all received data streams this morning informing you of the specifics, but all information at this time is fluid. I now invite Eminent Merric to fill you in on the details of what we know.”
Taking her seat, Merric stood instead. Yen raised an eyebrow as he watched the other officers pouring through volumes of data on the screens before them, updating themselves on the attacks against the galaxies’ suns. He was sure he had received the information himself, but hadn’t bothered to check his files before staggering from his room this morning.
“Thank you, Captain,” Merric began, his low voice carrying in the vaulted War Room. His fingers began flying across the keyboard before him; his actions reflected in movements among the floating diagram above the table. One after one, the representations of suns disappeared from the screen, replaced by silent black orbs. “To date, seventeen suns have been corrupted by the Terran assault. A list of affected planets is on your display screens now. As you can see, we’re looking at approximately three point two trillion individuals now trapped on dying planets. These numbers are, as always, an estimation since it is unknown how many people escaped on ships once the suns were attacked.”
One of the Warrants, the working class of officers on board the ship, on the far side of the table raised a hand. Yen recognized her as one of the weapons bay Warrants, responsible for the maintenance and operability of both the plasma rockets and rail guns. Her handsome face was framed by her Wyndgaart tattoos and her eyes were serious as she waited to be recognized.
“Warrant Scyant,” Merric said, pointing at her position. Scyant rose to her feet and addressed the group.
“Do we have any information yet on how to reverse the Deplitoxide affect on the suns?” she asked. Yen was impressed that she had done enough research since receiving the packet this morning to clearly identify the chemical being used from memory. Having asked her question, she took her seat again at the table.
“Unfortunately we do not at this time,” Merric replied. “However, we are currently awaiting a response from High Council on our possible courses of action. Regardless, the destruction of the suns is not our primary concern. The Alliance Fleet is being sent solely to pursue and destroy the Terran Fleet before it is able to reach Arcendor.”
His fingers flew across the keyboard as the map zoomed in on a specific sector of space, dominated by a multitude of red dots. “We have been receiving partial reports from freighters and commercial ships operating throughout Alliance territory. So far, we have tracked the Terran Fleet through four galaxies as they move toward Arcendor. From the estimates we have received, we believe…”
“Don’t we have ships defending these galaxies?” a young Magistrate asked from a few seats to Yen’s left.
Merric glowered at the younger man, obviously slighted for the interruption. “Yes, we did,” he emphasized the last word venomously to ensure no further interruptions. “The Terran Fleet has been sweeping into galaxies en mass, annihilating any meager resistance that can be offered by one or two Cruisers located in orbit around the inhabitable planets. In some instances, though it has been rare, the Terrans have left a small defensive force behind in the galaxy, usually consisting of one or two ships. We believe this is being done only for galaxies of strategic interest or along major concourses that they believe our Fleet would be taking in an attempt to stop their insurgency.”