The Arbor drifted through a graveyard of star systems, each a silent monument to the K'tharr's relentless hunger. The viewport framed desolate planets—husks stripped bare, their surfaces pocked with craters, their skies choked with swirling dust that swallowed what was left of their stars.
Emma stood at the bridge's edge, arms crossed, her breath fogging the reinforced glass as she traced a shattered moon's slow spiral of debris. The vast emptiness stretched beyond calculation, ruin threading through the void like an old wound that refused to heal.
The crew watched in hushed awe—Chloe at her console, her usual sharpness dulled by the sight; Liam staring, his hands curled into tight fists; Maya adjusting her glasses, disguising what Emma knew was a flicker of fear.
The Arbor felt small, insignificant against the scale of devastation.
Mark stepped beside her, his frame tense, his gaze locked on the destruction. "It's like they wiped them clean," he murmured, the weight of it heavy in his voice. "No trace left—just nothing. No cities, no life, not even wreckage worth naming."
Emma's eyes lingered on a planet's scarred surface, its crust fractured, a metallic sheen glinting where an atmosphere had once thrived.
"They don't conquer," she said quietly, the analytical edge in her voice giving way to something deeper, heavier. "They erase. Systematically. Deliberately." She exhaled, her jaw tightening. "This isn't war. It's annihilation."
The bridge was silent except for the hum of the ship's core, the crew's breath merging into a collective rhythm—a quiet resistance against the absolute void outside.
Liam finally spoke, his voice brittle, barely above a whisper. "How do you fight something that leaves nothing behind?"
Chloe glanced at him, her sharp edges softened, but she didn't answer. Her fingers flew over her console, her focus shifting.
Maya's hands paused over her screen, the analyst in her struggling against the human in her. "They're efficient," she said at last, her tone clinical but strained. "No waste. No mercy."
Emma's gaze hardened. "Then we don't hesitate either."
---
A crackling transmission pierced the silence, filtering through Chloe's station like a dying echo.
She tensed, amplifying it, isolating the source. "Distress signal," she reported, fingers moving fast. The static broke apart—shattered, desperate words spilling into the bridge.
**"They're here... please... anyone... help us..."**
The message dissolved into a hiss, then silence.
Emma's chest constricted. "Can we reach them?"
Chloe's brow furrowed as she pulled coordinates, her voice clipped with urgency. "It'll be close—too close. The K'tharr are already there. They're moving fast."
The main screen flared to life.
Sleek K'tharr warships glinted like predators' scales, closing in on a tiny orbital station, its form fragile against the void.
Energy beams lanced through its structure—precise, merciless. Metal tore apart in seconds, defenses disintegrated into scattered dust. The crew watched in helpless silence as the station's lights flickered, then died.
Its wreckage drifted, another monument of ruin in the vast graveyard.
---
Emma turned from the screen, her voice steady but sharpened by fury. "That's what we're up against—a force that doesn't stop, doesn't feel."
Mark's hand gripped her shoulder—a silent anchor—but she pulled away, refusing the comfort.
"We saw their methods in action," she continued, sweeping her gaze across the crew. "No hesitation. No quarter. That's why we can't falter—not now, not ever."
Liam's fists slowly unclenched, conflict flickering through his features.
Chloe exhaled, her sharp focus returning, fire back in her eyes.
The Arbor pressed forward, its engines humming, the silence of dead systems following them like a shadow toward Earth.