"Alpha," the helmswoman called out to Groon. "We are approaching the final jump point."

"Initiate on arrival," Groon ordered. The brown and magenta-streaked High Council member sat in a large black angular chair position in the center of the bridge of his dreadnought, the Joyful Tyrant.

"Yes, Alpha," the helmswoman confirmed. "Jump in five, four, three, two–"

In an instant, the ship's hull melted into the stars and the air compressed like we'd been pushed in and out of an automatic hydraulic extruder.

"Graven minions detected!" Groon's head security officer shouted when we reentered normal space.

The view screens flooded with images of grotesque monsters swarming the ship.

"Minion activity detected on all scanners!" Shar'koth, Groon's lead science officer, informed his Elder and Alpha.

He really does stand out!

Kazz'mon's son was lustrous black speckled in flecks of shimmering gold topped with tall slender black horns contrasted by brilliant canary yellow quills contrasting, exactly like his bearer!

"Evasive maneuvers!" Groon leaned forward as he scoured the crescent holographic monitors floating around his chair.

The bridge lights dipped into deep red and an alarm went off, summing the crew to their battle positions.

"Elder," a deep, composed voice spoke up from behind.

It took me a second to realize the voice was speaking to me. The new rank still didn't feel normal.

The voice belonged to Merrik.

The eight-foot Elder was dappled in shades of rust and umber with large ram-like horns and distinct black scales marbled throughout. He was formerly Groon's Master Gunner, now reassigned as my personal bodyguard.

"Here," Merrik motioned for us to take seats on the edge of the bridge outfitted with force-shield harnesses. The Elder had vibrant sage eyes and thick black short quills running up and down his pale cream chest and abdominals.

"Launch interceptors," Groon commanded his crew.

Eight squadrons of small heavily-armed ships broke off from the dreadnought to confront the enemy head-on.

We were still six days from the rogue planet, but according to the long-range scanners, our intended route was packed to the brim with minion chaos.

"Keep them off my ship," Groon chortled while ticking his long black claws over the arms of his Alpha's chair. "I want them floundering, not us!"

The Joyful Tyrant was surprisingly maneuverable despite its cumbersome scale. The helmswoman had the dreadnought weaving and dodging between the mayhem with the grace and agility of a cruiser a third her size.

"Prepare cannons," Groon's one natural eye glimmered with delight. "I want those chargers cycling nonstop."

Merrik's fangs flared briefly on reflex to confirm the orders, up until recently, he would have carried out.

"Yes, Alpha," Groon's new Master Gunner responded.

It was strange having a chaperon, but the Council insisted due to my singular ability to understand the Graven language.

I suppose it wasn't fair thinking of him as a glorified babysitter. Merrik possessed a veritable tapestry of brands and trophies of merit. The selection process for the position must have been grueling. It was a safe bet that the Elder may have not only volunteered for the duty but competed against some of the most venerated Zhaguai in all of Jahaa to claim the honor.

"Release the drone units," Groon glanced at his Master Gunner. "We're carving a path through his nonsense."

The Menthla-invented octahedron drones were outfitted with minion killing blasters. Their modular power supplies limited them to only terminating small beasties, but they could recharge quickly to provide the interceptors with additional cover.

"Behemoth, incoming," Shar'koth appraised the bridge when a massive crystalline eel made two loops around the Joyful Tyrant. He was sleek and elegant in posture, like his mother, but had sprightly yellow eyes that absorbed every detail.

The squadrons of interceptors zipped into action, firing white-hot lasers at the abomination to clip off its razor-edge fins.

"Any sign of a full Graven?" The Master Gunner checked in with the science officer.

"Negative," Shar'koth answered.

"Proceed with offensive formations," the Master Gunner instructed the squad leaders.

"Snip that serpent to ribbons," Groon howled.

Suddenly, a flock of pony-sized space bats kamikazed for the dreadnought's outer hull but slammed flat against the ship's all-encompassing shields.

"Someone wipe those things off the windshield," Groon chittered at his Master Gunner, but in that same moment, the eel began secreting a nebulous, opaque pink cloud.

"It's disrupting all visuals," Shar'koth stayed on task.

Fortunately, both the interceptors and the dreadnought came fully equipped with alternative sensors.

"Talk to me," the Master Gunner growled over the comm to his squad leaders. "We need eyes."

"Lost sight of the minions at our seven!" Pyro Squad's leader updated the command deck. "All squads, recalibrate sensors!"

"Shield integrity decreasing by ninety percent," the Master Gunner's hands whipped into overdrive across his control panel. "Those bats are eating through the outer hull. We need to eliminate the eel!"

"You heard him!" Groon sent out a mass command to all the interceptors and drones.

Two-thirds of the interceptors converged fire on the eel's midsection as a wave of triple-mouthed stingrays swooped in to disrupt their formation, but not before the Zhaguai fighter pilots carved the slender beast in half.

"First target served!" The leader of Condor Squad called out.

Groon let loose a spirited thump of his fist on his thigh. "That's what I like to see! Now move us out of this haze and get our shields fully functioning."

The helmswoman was three heartbeats ahead of her Alpha, and already had her course corrections entered and verified.

"Second minion wave terminated," Reaper Squad was positioned beyond the pink cloud, keeping the dreadnought and the other squadrons from being overwhelmed. "Moving on to the next objective."

"Copy that," the Master Gunner affirmed. "Repositioning drones into suppression formation. Nova & Pyro Squads move in twos, clear us a wide path!"

The Joyful Tyrant lifted its nose and slowed down.

Merrik's long quills shimmied in approval of his replacement's pending tactical maneuver.

"Condor Squad, stay with us," the Master Gunner continued monitoring the location of the interceptors. "We need cover at twelve o'clock."

"Got it!" The leader of Condor Squad responded over the comms.

"Nova, Pyro, Ibex squads, vacate the blast radius," the Master Gunner shouted hurriedly.

The Joyful Tyrant tipped vertically toward the edge of the pink cloud like a whale breaching the ocean's surface for an urgently needed gulp of air.

"Move! Move!" The Master Gunner barked at the squadrons.

The nose of the dreadnought broke free of the cloud, and a ring of laser cannons sprang open to spray down a cone of light like a white-hot umbrella incinerating every minion in tow.

"Shields returned to maximum," Shar'koth alerted the command deck. Then the Master Gunner activated a white pulse wave across the outer hull, obliterating the bat minions trapped between the dreadnought and the shields.

"Clear out this mess!" Groon chuckled at the successive carnage.

"All squads move in!" The Master Gunner authorized the interceptors to face off against the next wave of minions.

"The Institute wanted more data on those new short-range burner cannons," Groon smirked at his lead science officer. "Let's give them all the battle statics they can handle and then some!"

Shar'koth nodded and continued monitoring the targeting sequence of the drones as they thinned out the smaller, surrounding minions.

"More minions ahead, Alpha," Shar'koth tossed up the feed from long-range sensors onto Groon's primary screen.

The image was packed full of wave after wave of Graven minions.

"Looks like we were expected," Groon turned to me. "Someone even took the trouble to lay out the red carpet."

"Then we shouldn't keep them waiting," I grinned back.

"On that we agree, Elder," Groon chittered with his fangs salivating.

"No mercy for the fallen!" Groon roared to his crew members. "Let us embrace this challenge with strength and honor!"

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.

.

"Let your pilots rest," Groon got up from his Alpha's chair to pat his Master Gunner's shoulder. "You as well. No idea how the lot of you have maintained those brutal, brief sleep cycles."

"Nothing we haven't trained for," the Master Gunner cracked a smile with deep dark circles beneath his eyes.

It took us seven days and nearly nonstop fighting to reach the rogue planet. The onslaught didn't bode well for Lor and her excavation team.

"They're gone..." Shar'koth stared in shock at his monitors.

"No life signs?" Groon lowered his head.

"No, Alpha," Shar'loth amended. "The entire monastery... it's missing."

Shar'koth displayed the site of Darbek Monastery on the main viewscreen. All that remained were charred purple lines webbed across a desolate gaping crater.

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...

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