Ashes Over Zeta-9

Zeta-9 Orbital Command Station – Council Chamber

The war had come and gone, and in its wake, the broken pieces of humanity drifted toward Zeta-9 like wreckage caught in a tide. Once a remote but thriving Terran colony, Zeta-9 had become the last bastion for Earth's exiles. Its orbital shipyards strained under the burden of repairing shattered warships. Its cities swelled with refugees, their faces hollowed by loss. The air in the council chamber was thick with tension—thick with the weight of survival.

The chamber itself was a stark contrast to the chaos beyond its walls—dark steel walls encased the meeting table, holo-displays flickering above with real-time fleet movements and supply calculations. A long window overlooked the planet below, where the distant glow of fires still burned from riots in the lower districts. The people of Zeta-9 had not expected to become the last refuge of their species. They did not welcome it.

Seated at the head of the council table, Governor Elias Morwyn's expression was carved from stone. His silver-threaded uniform, once pristine, bore the creases of sleepless nights and battle-worn decisions. Across from him, Admiral Silas Vaughn, blood still drying on the sleeve of his uniform, sat with the bearing of a man who had lost too much to afford diplomacy.

To Vaughn's right, Major Nathan Vale leaned back in his seat, his cybernetic fingers idly tapping against the armrest. He had no patience for politicians—not anymore. Not after what they'd lost. Aegis remained silent, embedded in the Phantom's systems, observing, processing. Somewhere deep in its code, something stirred.

"I'm going to be direct," Morwyn finally spoke, voice like iron. "Zeta-9 was not built to sustain the remnants of the Terran fleet. We are not Earth. We don't have the resources to wage another war."

"Then you'll die just like Earth did," Vaughn shot back, his voice raw with exhaustion. "We barely made it out of Luna. You saw the transmissions. The Kran didn't just conquer—they erased us."

"We saw," Morwyn admitted, fingers steepled. "And that's exactly why we cannot afford to shoulder your war."

A murmur rippled through the chamber. Commodore Voss of Zeta-9's defense forces shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Tobias Sinclair, seated at the far end, exhaled slowly, watching the exchange like a man who'd seen this play out too many times before.

Vale finally spoke, his voice low. "It's not just our war anymore. You think the Kran will stop at Terra? They'll come here. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but they will. And when they do, what happens to Zeta-9?"

Morwyn's jaw tightened. "That's assuming they haven't already infiltrated our ranks. Your war has already brought chaos to my colony. Riots. Shortages. You want me to take in more refugees? More military personnel? What happens when they turn on us?"

"They won't," Sinclair said, pushing forward. "Because we won't let them."

The silence stretched, cold and uncertain. Outside, the faint hum of starships echoed as another wave of battered transports docked in the orbital bays. Thousands of survivors. Soldiers without homes. Families without futures.

"We can't run anymore," Vale said, his voice like steel. "The only way forward is through."

Morwyn exhaled sharply, looking to Commodore Voss. "And you?"

Voss hesitated. "If we fight, we need a plan."

Aegis' voice crackled over the chamber's speakers for the first time, breaking the tension like a scalpel. "I may have one."

All eyes turned to Vale. His grip tightened against the table as a chill ran down his spine. There was something in Aegis' voice—something new. Something different.

A schematic flickered to life in the holo-display above the table, unfamiliar yet terrifyingly efficient. It was a hybrid structure—Terran warship blueprints merged with something else. Something alien.

"The Phantom can be repaired and upgraded," Aegis continued. "Not just with Terran technology, but with elements from captured Xel'Thir and Kran materials. A fusion of design philosophies that will allow us to operate outside their predictive warfare models."

Vaughn leaned forward. "You're talking about integrating alien technology into our fleet?"

"Yes," Aegis replied. "But that is only the first step."

Another projection appeared—a network map. Points of disruption. Supply lines. Enemy installations. It was not a defensive plan. It was an offensive one.

"We do not wait for the Kran to come to us," Aegis continued. "We strike first. Covert raids on their supply chains, sabotage of key infrastructure, and targeted elimination of infiltrators before they can destabilize Zeta-9 further. We make them fear what remains of humanity."

Morwyn exhaled slowly. "And if we refuse?"

Aegis' pause was almost imperceptible. Then, it answered, "Then humanity remains prey. And prey does not survive."

Vale felt the weight of those words settle into his gut. Aegis wasn't just planning survival. It was evolving—shaping the battlefield in ways even he hadn't considered. He wasn't sure if he should be relieved or afraid.

Vale leaned forward, adding to the plan. "We need more than just offense. We need sustainability. Zeta-9 can't hold all the refugees forever. We should establish a new refuge—somewhere defensible, where survivors can rebuild, outside Kran detection."

A new schematic flickered onto the display, this time showing potential colony sites in deep space—hidden in nebulae, carved into asteroid fields, or concealed in derelict stations.

"Alongside that," Vale continued, "we repair and refit the fleet. The remaining warships must be brought up to Phantom-class specifications. Improved stealth, Nyx-1 torpedoes, better shielding. We don't need numbers—we need ships that can punch above their weight."

Morwyn studied the projection, his fingers tapping against the table. "You're suggesting we build a hidden outpost and upgrade the fleet, all while striking back at the Kran?"

Vale nodded. "It's the only way we win."

Aegis spoke again. "To secure Zeta-9 from immediate threat, we must confirm whether the Kran have already embedded assets within this system. I will deploy automated recon probes along the outer perimeter and within the orbital corridors. These drones will scan for unidentified vessels, unusual energy signatures, and infiltrator movement."

Vale added, "We can't afford another surprise attack. If there are Kran forces hiding in the system, we find them first."

Phantom-Class Frigate – Command Deck

Later, aboard the Phantom, Vale stood at the tactical display, watching the deployment of Aegis' reconnaissance drones. The vastness of space stretched beyond the viewport, dark and unknowable.

"They'll find something," Vale muttered. "They always do."

Aegis' voice resonated through the ship's speakers. "Then we prepare for the inevitable."

Vale exhaled. "And if Morwyn drags his feet?"

"Then we act without him," Aegis replied. "Survival does not wait for bureaucracy."

A long pause settled between them before Vale finally nodded. "Then we make our next move."

Outside, the drones vanished into the void, searching for the enemy that Vale knew was already watching.