Throne Room of SESV Blackrock, Citadel of the Silver Empire Armada, GC 3478 June 10th, 0900 Hours—

Prince Drakerto lounged on his throne as he looked up at the holographic projection, watching it change from their fleets' disposition to the nearby topographical features. His Chief Advisor, Klorrvo Jolklen, having just finished outlining the condition of their fleets, moved on to the next topic for discussion, "As you have ordered, Your Highness, we have searched the local area and found a defensible location suitable for future expansion. However, I feel it is my duty to broach the subject of us waiting again, as we will not be able to lift off Blackrock once we set her down. Is it not wiser to wait and see if we are capable of escaping this cage before committing to establishing a permanent outpost on this world?"

"You have made your point clear many times over the last few days, Klorrvo. I am well aware you and the others judge my decision to establish an outpost at this time to be hasty. And I also know that you hold the position that we should not set Blackrock down, even if we do start construction. However, I am not, and never have been, one for half measures, which is the main reason why one of my status is within the Coalition in the first place." Leaning forward to emphasize his next words, Prince Drakerto stated, "Because half-measures never achieve anything of note." The prince let his words settle on those in the room for a moment, then sighed and leaned back. "Though it is not simply my impulsiveness that makes me want to set up a full outpost rather than a half-baked one. More than anything else, every report I have received and everything I know tells me that we will not be leaving this planet… And for all we know, perhaps this is as our honored ancestors will it."

"You are correct, My Prince, it was my mistake to push the subject so hard. I should not have questioned you." Klorrvo said, bowing low and asking for forgiveness.

"Nonsense." Prince Drakerto said, then gave a slight smile. "While I find explaining myself tedious and will avoid giving an explanation when able, for you to shirk your duty by not questioning my actions when you deem it necessary is a disservice to the Empire. No one is infallible, and you are in your position because I trust your opinion. Now, give me the highlights of the Silver Empire's newest outpost."

"Thank you for your grace and faith, My Prince. I will not be found wanting," the advisor said while he remained bowed before he rose, turned to the hologram, and started speaking in his professional tone again. "As I said before, we have chosen a defensible area for a long-term settlement with plenty of space for future expansion. The location is a heavily forested area that is surrounded by what would be, on any other planet, an extremely tall mountain range on three sides. The mountains from base to peak are slightly over twenty thousand feet, which doesn't count the elevation from sea level. Despite their height, there is no snow on their peaks, and the canopy of trees on their slopes is all but undisturbed from base to tip. This has caused quite a hassle for our shock troopers, as the ship sensors are proving unreliable for mapping out what lines underneath the canopy. Making any accurate map of the paths through the mountains will require physical exploration, which will take time and manpower. As for the opening in the mountain range, a series of what could be described as smaller foothills running through the area create numerous canyons and valleys. The location also has many streams, rivers, and lakes, making spots all but impassible by land. Needless to say, this makes the gap easily fortifiable, making our foe hesitate before they could even think of approaching where we plan to land Blackrock."

Klorrvo took a long breath to recover and allowed the prince to take a moment to look at the map and, more specifically, inspect the blue highlighted areas of the hologram showing what he had just covered. "Once past the valleys, any enemy will have to traverse a rolling forest interspersed with small hills and many rivers winding their way over the land. As for our landing spot, that will be this rocky area here. It is on a natural rise, and we have detected a large mass of stone under the ground, which will provide plenty of support to act as a foundation for Blackrock. The landing zone is also placed on an island inside one of the larger rivers within the area."

"That seems rather large to be called an island inside a river." The prince commented as he studied the map.

"It is, My Prince. The island is slightly more than sixteen hundred square miles, more than enough room to put a city and a spaceport, and it doesn't even take up half the river's width…" There was a moment when Chief Advisor Klorrvo paused as he visibly gathered his thoughts before slowly starting to speak again, "I must voice another matter." When Prince Drakerto waved for him to continue, he began, "As we know alarmingly little of this world, this is purely my own musing, but I feel a need to provide caution. It is not about our landing, as you have already stated your opinion, but about the world itself. So far, everything we have encountered is — for lack of a better phrase — "larger than life." The largest mountains I have found reports of being sighted can contain large moons, we have seen trees taller than mountains on my home world, and rivers could be mistaken as seas. With everything so much larger, I could only assume that the fauna has, to some extent, also adapted to such monstrous scales. Not to mention that with so many extraordinary things around us, we will not be able to anticipate what we might encounter."

The prince stared up at the chamber's ceiling with a look of contemplation. "You are right to bring up the concern," the prince stated. "However, I do believe you have not taken a factor into consideration."

"And that would be, Your Highness?"

"Making a leap of logic of my own — though I believe it is well founded — I would guess essence is the reason for the drastic size of the world around us… and if there is that much of it floating around, what will happen to us when we are exposed to it?" Prince Drakerto asked, a vicious smile sliding onto his face.

**********

Exterior Shell of the CMSV Twin Fangs After Landfall, Spawning Pool of the Crimson Monarchs Armada, GC 3478 June 10th, 1045 Hours—

Elder Inklov held her arms out to the sides, her elbows slightly bent and palms up. The black silk of her dress clung to her arched body as she threw her head back, letting her long platinum hair and crimson shawl faintly shift with the wind. Not that there was much movement, as the puffs of air carrying the moist, fetid stench of the decomposing matter in the surrounding swamps were blissfully few and far between. However, it didn't matter. None of it. Not the smell, the humidity, the stagnant rotten air, or the sun beating down upon her face. The indignity of one of her rank having to experience such an unpleasant environment didn't receive more than a passing thought from her.

Because, and it was no exaggeration to say, that any other elder or monarch within the Confederacy would willingly change places with her in a single second if they knew what she was feeling. Any irritations will be worth stepping foot on this planet, as a single breath of the air is filled with as much power as the oldest and densest spawning pools in the heartlands of the monarchs. Sethlom knew that for a fact, as she was called on by many of the oldest and strongest monarchs to maintain and improve the formations that focused the essence into their personal pools. True, the ambient energy wasn't life essence, but it wasn't far off and could easily be absorbed and transformed.

She couldn't help the wild twisting of her lips at the thought of living in this environment as she said to herself, "What will my pools become with this energy?"

"Preferably, something worth mentioning in conversation with respectable company." Elder Sathroth commented from his position at the head of a small crowd approaching her, "These last years, my pool has been severely taxed to sustain my health. Nothing short of shoddy craftsmanship, I would say."

Elder Inklov's lips twitched in annoyance, and her posture stiffened as she couldn't contain a rebuke, "If you had not flaunted your power to your underlings at every opportunity and gotten into so many 'tests of strength' with the Silver Empire's nobles, then there would have been no issues. It is your own fault that what little power you have has waned." The doddering old windbag let out a puff of air as he became undoubtedly affronted and insulted beyond compare, and now he would have to demand com—

"How dare you say such words to me!? I am upholding the honor and dignity of not only us and our exalted positions but also our entire people! Those of lesser ranks need to be shown the heights that can be reached with service, and our temporary allies need to be reminded of and fear our might, which has not withered in the slightest in these challenging times but grown. I would not expect one such as you to understand the nuances of ruling, given your birth. Nonetheless, all my actions have been deemed necessary by the Council. A fact you know fully well from your repeated efforts to weaken me — both politically and physically — by stymieing my attempts to recover after the performance of my duties! But this latest accusation has gone too far! I demand recompense! You will enhance my private pool, or you will be sanctioned b—

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Sethloam couldn't contain her laughter anymore, and she doubled over, clutching her stomach. Minutes passed, and the only sound that could be heard on the exterior of the asteroid — well, meteor now — base was Sethlom, trying and failing multiple times to contain her amusement. Whenever she looked at the fuming elder, she would burst out into another fit. Finally, she was able to straighten up while she wiped her eyes. Pulling back her shoulders, Elder Inklov contorted her face into a professional mask and looked the other elder in his blazing eyes.

“Well," Droan hissed, his voice full of malice and barely contained rage. "I hope you had a good laugh because it will cost you dearly."

The entire top of the asteroid that housed the Spawning Pools was silent after his words, with only the wind and distant bussing of insects daring to make a sound. The conscripts constructing artillery emplacements and bunkers on the meteor were frozen mid-movement like they were in the presence of some ferocious beast that would lash out at them should they draw its attention… Huh, that isn't a bad comparison.

"You are a blathering fool," Elder Inklov said, her voice full of scorn. The man puffed himself up as the insult landed, but she didn't give him the time to speak as she continued, "Your imagination is trapped in the time of antiquity. I told you before, yet you didn't bother to listen." As she spoke, Sethlom let her power seep from her body as she began to shape it. The formation wasn't much, not in the complexity or construction, and it didn't need to be as it was a simple gathering formation.

For those who knew anything about the craft, the only thing to note about the formation was that instead of spanning tens of miles, its diameter was less than the span of her arms. As she spoke, the construct of essence rotated slowly to her side as it activated, "This world contains boundless energy. Find a single native animal of decent size and drain it, and you will have a greater density of life essence than all of our pools combined."

In the short time she talked, Elder Inklov saw Elder Sathroth's cold, beady eyes shift to the side and widen ever so slightly in his wrinkled face. She didn't need to look, as Sethlom could feel the purest energy she had felt in her entire life gather. The energy was collected together and condensed to form droplets by her formation before they fell as vaporizing comets to splatter against the stone and create a mist. "Find an average or even strong beast," Inklov couldn't contain an anticipatory vicious smile from spreading over her face as she spoke. "and we will have pools greater than every monarch in the Confederation. They will be begging to come here, as I see no limits to our growth… With the proper formations."

Elder Sathroth's indignation was gone as he looked at her, and in its place, naked greed twinkled in his eyes. Slowly, his head moved from one side to the other as he looked at the world they had landed the Twin Fangs on. Whatever reservations and grudges he bore in his heart against her and Elder Molten vanished before her eyes. At least they disappeared for now. He did not change. No, it was far too late in his life to turn over a new leaf and suddenly become able to look past slights and challenges to his person. However, he finally saw a path to extend his power and life without pandering to others. To finally claim his own domain. He would be in trouble in the future, but right now, he would follow her lead, which was all Elder Inklov wanted. Because in the long term, he would never be able to keep up with her.

**********

Conference Room Within the TFSV Everest, Super Carrier of the Terran Federation, GC 3478, June 10th, 1050 hours—

"Give me your status reports." Ordered Fleet Admiral Ulto from the head of the table.

With no hesitation, Admiral Pike, who was sitting immediately to Ulto's right, stood up and started speaking, "As of an hour ago, we have received no contacts of any sort from sixty-seven fleets within our armada after transiting to this world. We received communications from groups and individual craft from fifty-one other fleets within the first two days of our arrival, but as our scattered forces consolidated or were destroyed, the distances became too great, and we lost contact with most of the fleets. As of now, we have no way of knowing their status. We have the confirmed destruction of nine fleets at the hands of the Swarm. Currently, we have fifty-three TFSV fleets, numbering some thirty-eight thousand ships of all sizes and classes. Most of that number are combat ships, meaning we are lacking support vessels of all kinds. We have also collected stray ships belonging to fleets in the Silver Empire and Crimson Monarchs armadas. While they do not compose any single fleet, their combined force is the equivalent of four fleets. I have sent you all the details if you are interested." Done with his report, the man lowered into his chair and leaned back.

A heavy silence crashed over the room, and everyone processed the numbers Admiral Pike was throwing around. To an outsider, saying a fleet was lost didn't mean much. Obviously, losing two was worse than one and three more so than two, but they were missing all of the context. The Coalition, the strongest force in the recorded history of the galaxy, had lost seventeen fleets in the entirety of its existence. Well, seventeen fleets that were annihilated to the last vessel, not counting the total number of individual starships lost in battles. To put it in perspective, a single fleet fluctuated around six hundred combat vessels of various classes and dozens of support and supply vessels depending on the fleet composition, with the total spacemen numbering around seven hundred and ninety thousand.

If you assumed all of the fleets they lost contact with were destroyed, which wasn't an absurd notion given how scattered their forces were, it meant upwards of a hundred million of the best spacers in the galaxy were dead. And that was for their faction alone. Besides a few scattered reports, there was no information on large groups of the other two factions within their alliance. Forces that consisted of numbers equal to or greater than the Terran Federation Armada.

No matter how you cut it, even going to the extent of deluding yourself into believing only the nine confirmed fleets were lost and naively hoping the other fleets were still fighting and attempting to regroup, their circumstances were an unmitigated disaster. The thing was, no one in the room was that innocent. When you took the collective age of those around the table and the experience of battles they fought in, you would have to place both numbers in the thousands. So, no one had the delusional hope their losses weren't anything but devastating. If they reconnected with what amounted to a dozen fleets, everyone in the room would consider themselves fortunate beyond all reason.

"Thank you for your report," Fleet Admiral Ulto said. The only sign of his emotions was the sudden flexing and then release of his clasped hands on the table and a slightly rough edge to his voice, but even that vanished the next moment. "To clarify, we have yet to make contact with either the Silver Empire or Crimson Monarchs command elements, correct?"

"That is accurate."

"Understood. Now, Legion General Becker, what is the overall situation on the ground?"

The Legion General looked to have more in common with a mummy than the living, but that didn't stop an air of confident power and control radiating off him with every movement. Standing up, he planted his feet shoulder-width apart and put his hands behind his back as he spoke in a surprisingly rich and deep voice, "There isn't much to report at this time, Fleet Admiral. Currently, one-hundred-twenty-seven companies have been deployed to secure and fortify small paths leading up to the plateau. Twenty-seven battalions are doing the same to major incursion points, with multiple brigades ready to respond as needed. The rest of the legion is building fortifications, patrolling around our bases, or going out on long-range recon missions, where we have encountered numerous hostile creatures native to the world. So far, nothing has proven to be overly challenging for the boys. I have sent you the specifics if you want to look into the matter more."

With that, the man sat down, having never turned his head to face anyone, and pulled a large datapad back in front of him, returning to his work. "Thank you, Legion General Becker. Rear Admiral Winter, if you would."

Standing up, the woman cleared her throat, saying, "While we have received more catalyst — and in the purest form that I have ever seen — and in greater amounts than we could reasonably hope for, we simply do not have the facilities to process and use the material. Without dedicated forge ships creating the facilities and machinery to handle the current supply, we will not be able to use it properly. More than that, given the abundance of catalysts, large numbers of spacers and space marines will be rising in stages and tiers in the current weeks to a point never before seen. As you know, the wounded of higher tiers require more catalysts than those of lesser tiers to heal, and we will not be able to supply the armada or legion adequately once heavy combat starts. For now, the medical facilities are gathering a surplus and preparing for combat as best we can, but there is only so much we can do given our current resources."

Nodding in thanks, Fleet Admiral Ulto said, "Thank you for the report and analysis. Send my staff a report of your requirements, and I will work on getting you a forge ship." Then he turned to the next in line.

**********

A Mountain Peak at the Edge of the Hollow Mountain Range, AB 35923, June 10th, 0930 hours—

Aur sat cross-legged on top of a large stone, a frown creasing his face, pushing his lips past the edges of his long, thin white mustache. The old man wiggled his body, trying to get comfortable, and the sound of cracking stone filled the air at his movement. A moment later, a gust of wind whipped over and under him, lifting him ever so slightly and blowing away a fine stone powder. As his body settled, the frown on his face only deepened, and darkness leaked from his body, eating away at the morning light flooding over the world before he finally let out a snort of disappointment, resigning himself to being uncomfortable. It didn't matter what you did; you just couldn't be comfortable on stone without being in the same place for at least a hundred years. To try was just a waste of time. It was a lesson Aur had long learned, but with the short time he planned on being here, he had hoped.

Eyes drifting down, Aur looked at the wreck of a strange ship. It was not the first of its kind he had come across after his short meeting with the herald, but it was the first that one of its crew lived. A sign, if there ever was one, that he should take the time to study the individual and, through him, his people. Perhaps even send out some avatars to find more of his kind. It was only proper to have the whole story of this latest group that appeared on Hellious before he went to the Council and patriarch.

No one needed to know the time he spent flying around, inspecting the ships, and searching for a living crew member before he appeared before them. And now that he was here… well, it took time to do a proper study. A smile spread across his face as he looked down, his eyes alighting with Qi. Since I'm here, I might as well add a little spice. After all, what is life without a little variety and tension?