And the Skies Rained Fire

The Commander

Vorti Commander Andron Riakal strode through the dimly lit hallway that led to the bridge of his flagship, the Lady Wrath. He walked with purpose, eyes locked ahead of him, hands clasped firmly behind his back, gray uniform tailored neatly to fit his muscular body. Riakal nodded curtly to two privates who stood on guard duty by one of the many transporters strewn about the ship. The thin privates snapped to attention and saluted as the Commander's steely emotionless gaze raked over them critically, searching for imperfections in their storm gray uniforms. Satisfied, Raikal sniffed and moved on.

As the Commander closed the gap between him and thick metal doors of the bridge, his mind strayed to the war and the thorn in his side that was the Terran Empire. Since the unprovoked bombing of the underground capital of Vortus Prime, Raikal had been neck-deep in military movements, bombardment campaigns, and plans for new ships to give the Vorti an edge against the Imperial Navy. And, as Commander General of the Vorti Armed Forces, he was required to sift through them all. It was enough to drive any man crazy, especially one such as him, bred for war and victory. The mountain of paperwork had become so dense that each short skirmish with Imperial-allied raiding parties had been sweet release. Riakal had leapt into the fray himself, blasting enemy vessels out of the sky with relish.

However, his "breaks" from letters sent from the likes of Imperial peace delegations to the General Secretary himself came few and far between. Although typically not a drinker, Riakal had swallowed a whole keg of scarlet ale in the past week, just to keep him awake. For as much as the Commander hated his recent influx of paperwork, he was most certainly not one to skip out on his duties. Thus, when the call came over his personal intercom from the Navigations Officer, asking him to report to the bridge, Riakal quickly buttoned on his uniform, complete with several medals of Ferocity and Honor in Battle and made his way up to the control hub of the Lady Wrath.

As the industrial metal doors to the bridge slid forth to admit him, a voice called, "Commander on the bridge!" and the various officers and pilots stood up from their posts and saluted, clapping their right fist to their chests and shouting, "Mine fists are yours". As was his custom, Riakal ignored them and marched up to the Chief Navigation Officer, Lieutenant K'Khad.

"Mine fists are yours, Commander," K'Khad said, lowering his hand from his breast. Riakal's years of survival training kicked in, sizing up the smaller man. K'Khad was fit, if shorter and leaner than his commander. He was obviously one of the more intelligent men in the Navy, to rise as high as the Navigation Officer on the Commander General's flagship. His gray face, which ran with worry lines, appeared to be one of a man ten years his senior, but his close-cropped hair was jet-black, betraying his youth. Riakal raised a white eyebrow.

"They better be. What is it?" the Commander was not one for mincing words "Do we have a report from our Imperial friend?"

K'Khad shook his head "Not as yet, sir. However our long-range sensors have picked up some interesting information from a Fringe Sector."

Riakal narrowed his stormy gray eyes "Well?"

All eyes on the bridge turned to K'Khad, as every one of the soldiers aboard the Lady Wrath had been taught never to anger the Commander. A slight edge of worry crept into the young Vorti's voice as he realized that he had came dangerously close, "About a half an hour ago I picked up an interesting signal from a primitive little planet on the far edge of the galaxy. The Union has yet to explore its star system but the Terrans refer to it as Cadrum 3. In any case, I picked up a massive energy surge from somewhere around its equator." K'Khad turned and punched some information into the computer display behind him. A hologram of a beige and brown planet appeared, rotating slowly, level with Riakal's head. K'Khad cleared his throat, "You see, Commander, this is an extremely primitive planet. The only sentient species there is nothing more than a group of tribes of hunter-gatherers. However, this surge that I picked up is the equivalent of the detonation of a antimatter warhead on a planet as advanced as Vortus or Earth."

Riakal nodded slowly, digesting the information. The cogs in his military mind began churning. Whatever this energy source was he needed to find it before the Empire did. From the magnitude of the energy surge, the Commander found it reasonable to assume that whatever it was could give him and the Vorti a leg up in the war. Riakal stared through the bridge window at the stars that surrounded his flagship and had a sudden realization. "And you have not mobilized the ship?" he said, voiced laced with steel.

The Navigation Officer's eyes widened, "Sir, I... I thought I should wait for your orders-"

"Fool!" Riakal cut the younger Vorti, scowling "Need I remind you, Lieutenant, that the Union is at war?" the massive Commander closed the distance between him and K'Khad, glowering down at the officer, "You picked up a energy transmission from a primitive system and you did NOTHING about it? Do you not think that the Empire picked up the exact same signal?"

K'Khad's eyes darted from side to side. The other officers and pilots on the bridge continued to go about their business, heads down. K'Khad gulped audibly, "Commander. Sir, I didn't do nothing. I dispatched Lady Wrath's scout squadron as soon as I received the transmission."

The Commander sniffed, still glaring at the Navigation Officer, "Perhaps you are not completely stupid. However, set course for Cadrum 3. We should catch the scouts on our way there. And Lieutenant?" Riakal turned to K'Khad, "You had better hope that the Empire hasn't reached that planet first." And with that, the Commander clasped his gray hands behind his back and settled into to wait for the rendezvous with the scouting party.

Another half an hour later, a deep crackly voice echoed over the bridge intercom., "Sargent Graal of Wrath scout squadron to the bridge of Lady Wrath. Over."

An ensign to Riakal's left tapped his headset, "Go ahead Sargent."

"Requesting permission to dock. Authorization code 4317."

"Permission granted. Proceed."

Riakal leaned over to the ensign and grabbed his headset, "Sargent. This is Commander General Riakal. Report."

"Mine fists are yours, Commander. I'm afraid I have unfortunate news. The Empire's flagship, the Superiority is in orbit around Cadrum 3, along with a good portion of the Imperial fleet. My men and I barely made it out in one piece. I lost a private as it is."

The Commander dropped the ensign's headset and strode over, fuming, to Lieutenant K'Khad's station, and grabbed the younger officer by his throat, pulling him off his feet. The Navigation Officer's eyes bulged and he clawed at his neck, gasping for air. Riakal grunted with exertion and tossed K'Khad's flailing form across the bridge. The young Vorti's howl of fear broke off with a sickening crunch as he collided head first with the reinforced glass at the far end of the command center. Riakal turned slowly, not paying his inferior a second glance, knowing that K'Khad's neck had shattered upon contact with the thick glass.

"Now," Riakal said, voice cut through with undercurrents of anger, "I want that energy source. And I don't expect you to let the Empire stand in our way. Am I correct?"

The Vorti officers and pilots on the bridge rose and clapped a fist to their chests, "Yes Commander!" Riakal allowed himself a small grin. Soon, he would wade waist-deep into his war. And he could already taste his victory.