The bridge was dim, the crew gathered around Chloe's console as she intercepted the incoming transmission—stronger, colder, cutting through the void like a blade.
"K'tharr," she confirmed, her voice low but steady. Her fingers moved with precision as she pulled the signal into focus.
A deep, resonant voice filled the space—a cadence weighted with centuries of authority, worn yet unyielding.
"Resistance is a fleeting inconvenience. Your civilizations cling to a fragile existence, teetering on the edge of chaos. The galaxy will find true order under our stewardship. Your world, Earth, with its unique resource, will be integrated into the greater cosmic harmony."
The screen flickered, resolving into an image.
Vorlag.
His massive form was cloaked in gold-and-silver armor, its smooth crystalline plating pulsing faintly with energy. His glowing eyes were locked on some unseen horizon, his angular features etched with a conviction that chilled the air.
---
Emma's lips curled into something between amusement and disdain as she leaned against the console.
"'Greater cosmic harmony.'" She exhaled, shaking her head. "Always the same tune—tyrants dressing up control as salvation."
She studied Vorlag, feeling the sheer weight of his presence, even through the hologram.
Chloe frowned beside her, arms crossed, sharp eyes narrowing. "He's not just a warlord, Doc. That's... belief. Deep as bone."
Emma nodded, her mind racing as she pieced the threat together.
"And foresight. They see Earth in their future—our trees, our WoodDust. It's not just a prize. It's their destiny."
Mark leaned beside her, his quiet strength grounding her as his gaze flicked between Vorlag's imposing form and Emma's expression.
"He thinks we're ants," he murmured, his voice low. "Beneath notice until we bite."
Emma's gaze hardened. She tightened her grip on the console's edge.
"Then we'll sting like hornets—make him feel every prick."
She turned to the crew, the fire in her voice spreading, igniting something deeper.
"This isn't just a fight for survival—it's a fight for who we are, for what we choose to be. They want order?" She straightened, daring the weight of Vorlag's words to crush her.
"We'll give them defiance."
---
Near the back, Liam shifted, his doubt surfacing, his hands fidgeting.
"What if he's right, though?" His voice cracked slightly, the emptiness of the dead systems still clinging to him. "What if they're inevitable? Too big, too old, too strong?"
Emma met his gaze—steady, unwavering.
"They're not inevitable, Liam. The Zogarians thought the same—bigger, older, stronger." She let that sink in before delivering the blow.
"And we sent them running with their tails between their legs."
Liam swallowed. His shoulders straightened slightly, a spark of belief flickering to life under her words.
---
Chloe replayed the transmission.
Vorlag's voice echoed through the bridge like a drumbeat—each repetition a shadow pressing against their resolve.
Emma stepped to the viewport. The stars stretched beyond, a distant tapestry whispering of battles yet to come.
Her father's journal weighed in her mind. *The green fights back.*
She had turned that fight into victory once—against odds as steep as these. That memory fueled her now.
"He's ancient," she murmured to herself, lost in thought.
"But age doesn't mean wisdom—just arrogance." Her gaze lingered on the void beyond. "He doesn't know us. Doesn't know Earth."
Maya glanced up from her station, adjusting her glasses, her tone measured, certain.
"He'll learn the hard way."
The crew nodded—a ripple of agreement shifting the atmosphere.
Chloe's grin returned, Liam's hands stilled, and Mark's quiet nod was a promise.
The Arbor hummed beneath them, its WoodDust core pulsing with defiance, carrying them closer to Earth.
Closer to war.
Vorlag's words dissolved into static—just another challenge they would answer with fire and will.