Gray Nakamura leaned forward, his steady presence cutting through the tension that gripped the bridge. Around him, the Seedkeepers stood rigid, each weighed down by the transmission they had just witnessed. His voice came measured, deliberate.
"Then we don't watch," he said. "We act."
Chloe Chen exhaled sharply, crossing her arms. Frustration edged into every line of her posture. "Do we even have a plan?" she demanded. "Rushing in is suicide. Their fleet alone could rip us apart before we even reach the atmosphere."
Emma Forrest's gaze remained sharp, unwavering. "There's only one way to stop this," she said, stepping toward the holographic display with purpose.
With a gesture, the projection shifted—zooming out from Earth, traveling past war-torn star systems until it centered on Khatia, the K'tharr homeworld. A metallic sphere wrapped in sterile perfection, a planet built not for life but for control.
"We go to Khatia," she continued, her voice gaining weight. "We cut them off at the source. If we take down the Emperor, this war ends."
Markus Volkov frowned, skepticism shadowing his face. "That's a hell of a long shot," he muttered. "He's surrounded by an entire empire. What makes you think we can even get close to him?"
Emma turned to face him, expression solid with resolve. "Because we have something they don't," she said. "Adaptability. We don't fight like them. We don't think like them. And we sure as hell don't go down quietly."
Reyes, standing near the weapons console, ran a hand through his hair before shaking his head. "If we do this, we commit to it fully," he murmured. "No retreat, no second chances."
Emma nodded. "We can't outgun them, but we can outmaneuver them. We infiltrate, strike from within, and ensure they can't retaliate."
The silence that followed was no longer suffocating. The atmosphere shifted—not with hesitation, but with understanding. Despite impossible odds, they would fight.
Markus let out a slow breath, a grin breaking across his face. "Alright, then," he said. "Let's give them a war they'll never forget."
Gray ran his fingers along the console, scanning data feeds. "This won't just be infiltration—it'll be a war of ideas as much as weapons," he muttered. "Magzorha believes order is inevitable. We have to prove him wrong."
A ripple of agreement spread across the crew. The tension that had bound them shattered, replaced by action.
Outside, the Arbor adjusted its trajectory. The thrusters flared, bathing the void in streaks of blue light. Then, with a burst of energy that bent the fabric of reality itself, the ship vanished into hyperspace—racing toward enemy territory, carrying with it what could be humanity's last hope.