Vidor
Vidor had grown tired of waiting. His destination was the moon of Gelderia, though for the time being it remained little more than a point of light on the forward display. His journey was almost at an end. After weeks aboard the cruiser, another few hours should have meant nothing, but he was growing impatient.
“How long?”
The navigator immediately looked up from his station. “Three hours and forty-seven minutes until we reach the Kresh installation, Commander.”
Vidor frowned. “And until we are within range of Gelderia?”
“Four hours and twelve minutes.”
…Too long. He rose from his chair. The bridge crew straightened almost as one. There were no Viltrumites among them. All aboard this cruiser had been drawn from the Empire’s subject races, including the soldiers housed throughout the decks beneath them.
“Maintain course.”
The navigator blinked. “Commander?”
“I will proceed ahead of you.”
“...O-Of course!”
The Kresh had been informed of his arrival days ago. Their commander upon Gelderia’s moon was instructed to prepare a full report on the war, though Vidor doubted it contained anything that Viltrum did not already know. Those facts were embarrassing enough. For generations, the Kresh had been supplied with weapons and intelligence with one simple expectation in return: Gelderia was to be conquered. Viltrum had possessed neither the need nor desire to commit its own people to every insignificant conflict across the galaxy.
The Kresh hated the Gelderians already; thus, arming them had required little effort, and their continued war kept Gelderia occupied with matters close to home. Yet Gelderia endured, and worse, it had been invited into the Coalition of Planets more than once.
Vidor had always found their constant refusal particularly contemptible. Of course, the Coalition was a collection of frightened species huddling together beneath the delusion that sufficient numbers might protect them from Viltrum. That being said, their very existence offended him less than the worlds that lingered around their edges, unwilling to join yet equally unwilling to stand against Viltrum. Such spinelessness… but it was no matter.
Gelderia would have no need to decide anything for itself soon enough. The Empire would decide for them. Perhaps a generation beneath Viltrumite rule would purge such weakness from their descendants.
The outer hatch opened. Vidor stepped into the airlock with a shallow inhale as the atmosphere evacuated with a diminishing hiss. His cruiser continued onward beneath him through the void. Vidor watched it for only a moment before turning towards the distant point indicated by the coordinates transmitted into his visor. He bent his knees against nothing and accelerated.
The cruiser disappeared behind him. Stars blurred at the edges of his vision as his speed climbed. The distance remaining was trivial by Viltrumite standards. His soldiers could endure another few hours aboard their vessel. Vidor had questions for the Kresh commander to answer. For close to a century, they had left the Kresh to their own devices, but a recent report saw him pulled across galaxies for correction’s sake.
The Kresh had pursued a Gelderian force beyond their world, hounding him and then lying in wait for the recovery force. What should have been an overwhelming victory turned out to be anything but when the Gelderians swiftly captured their vessel and flew it home. Clearly, this proxy war had ceased to be useful. Thus, Gelderia would be incorporated directly into the Empire. Its ruling family would be removed, and the tech jacket production facilities would be seized intact, alongside whatever scientists were required to operate them.
Of course, the population would be given the same choice afforded to every civilisation fortunate enough to receive Viltrum’s attention. Serve and prosper… or resist and suffer. His distaste towards the inferior species aside, the Kresh would remain useful. They had spent generations cultivating a hatred that would make them enthusiastic overseers once Gelderian resistance had been broken.
…Whether they deserved such a reward remained another question entirely, but far be it from him to question Anissa’s wisdom. Vidor would merely ensure they remembered who their masters were beforehand.
Vidor flew in silence.
There was little else to do in the vacuum. His cruiser had already transmitted word of his impending arrival to the Kresh installation, although he imagined they would be surprised to find him arriving several hours before it. The base eventually became visible against the grey surface. Several vessels rested upon landing platforms while others patrolled the space above.
It was far from an insignificant installation, which only made the Kresh’s failures more irritating. Several weapons turned towards him as he approached, remaining trained on him for several seconds before those manning them swivelled the weapons away. One of the larger hangars opened beneath him. A shimmering field stretched across the entrance, keeping the atmosphere inside as Vidor flew through it and touched down where the Kresh leadership awaited his arrival. Warriors lined either side of the hangar with their weapons held against their chests.
At the very front was an older Kresh, as ugly as any member of his race, with a dull-purple exoskeleton, mandibles, and thinning hair to crown his head.
Every disgusting head bowed to him, and Vidor finally exhaled.
“Commander Vidor,” the frontmost Kresh greeted.
“Which of you commands this installation?”
“I do. Commander Kallak, my lord.”
“Good.” Vidor stepped towards him. “Walk.”
Kallak’s mandibles twitched. “I have prepared a full accounting of the war as requested.”
Kresh soldiers flattened themselves against the walls to make way for him.
“You will provide it aboard my cruiser when it arrives.”
“Of course.”
“Your forces will also begin preparations to depart.”
That made Kallak look up. “Depart?”
“Gelderia.” Vidor took another two steps before noticing. He glanced over his shoulder.
“My lord…?”
“You have had nearly a century to conquer this world. You have failed. The Empire has therefore decided to correct that failure personally. My cruiser carries sufficient forces to begin the occupation. Your warriors will supplement them.”
At first, Kallak said nothing before bowing his head as he ought to. “It will be an honour. My forces await your command.”
Vidor resumed walking right as an alarm screamed through the corridor. Red light began flashing overhead as the Kresh around him stiffened, torn between fear of him and their duty.
Kallak slowly touched the side of his head. “Report.”
“...Commander! Intruders have appeared inside the installation!”
“Appeared how?”
“Two lifeforms. They’re currently tearing through Sector Seven on the lowest floor! One is Kelda. The other…”
Silence.
“My lord,” Kallak said. “Please, let us go to the command room on the topmost floor where we may see these intruders for ourselves.”
Vidor frowned. “...Lead the way.”
They changed direction, occupying a shuddering elevator to the top of the moon base. By the time they entered, security feeds already covered the central display. Vidor’s eyes immediately settled upon the two intruders. Kallak stopped dead beside him as they laid eyes upon the second intruder.
“My lord…” Kallak rasped. Vaguely, as he stared at the screens, Vidor was aware of the insect prostrating himself to him. “Please. We will right our wrongs. F-Forgive us. I implore you.”
Many other races across the galaxy bore a superficial resemblance to Viltrumites. Still… Vidor’s eyes narrowed at the feed. There was one species whose resemblance stood head and shoulders above the rest.
They were a species under the purview of Nowl-ahn, designated Terrans, but they referred to themselves as humans. This was certainly a Terran, judging by the Gelderian company he was keeping. Though outwardly, he was indistinguishable from a Viltrumite. Nowl-ahn’s reports had been extensive for good reason. Terrans were genetically compatible with Viltrumites to an extraordinary degree. This one was even flying. Could he be…
Vidor’s gaze dropped to the green ring upon the stranger’s hand.
No. The device was allowing him to fly, among other things. He watched as the Kresh’s weapons fired uselessly against a translucent emerald barrier. Green light blasted free from his hand, charring the Kresh and their armour entirely and driving those unfortunate enough to live through several walls.
Nowl-ahn was stationed on Earth, so what was a Terran doing so far from home?
As if able to hear the question, the Terran looked up. Had the Gelderian tapped into the security feed somehow? Their technology was as advanced as it was mysterious. He raised a glowing green hand, the visible power wreathing him, gathering at a point in front of his outstretched hand. The Terran blasted straight through the base wall, dragging Kresh soldiers and equipment towards the opening before disappearing into the void.
“My lord.”
Vidor turned to see that Kallak and the rest were still kneeling in the false belief that the intruder was a Viltrumite.
“W-Was that—”
“No. He was an intruder with a Gelderian, not a Viltrumite but a Terran. Surely you would be able to tell, mongrel, considering your people failed to eliminate Gelderia’s strongest—who evidently lived after enlisting the help of a powerful Terran.”
The Kresh leader hesitated. “...Should we pursue?”
“The Terran is returning to Gelderia,” Vidor said slowly.
The bigger question was, where had he acquired that device? Some kind of band? Why was he here?
The Kresh commander opened his mouth again.
“My lord, the losses—”
“Tend to your wounded. My cruiser shall soon arrive, at which point the invasion will begin.”
“Y-Yes, at once!”