6

[Vega star system, Sector 2828; Star 732]

—Deep Space: X'Hal's Belt:

*THROOM!*

Entering the ship was the easy part. The Gordanians nearby were sucked into space through the hole I created, which was quickly sealed by a force field. The remaining Gordanians in the corridor looked at me with murderous eyes.

"Kill him!" one of them shouted.

There were seven in total, likely the crew responsible for patrolling the ship.

They raised their weapons, but I didn't give them a chance. My eyes glowed red, and I fired an energy beam that cut six of them in half, leaving only the one who shouted with just one arm.

"ARGH!" he screamed in pain.

I walked slowly towards the fallen Gordanian, watching his expression change from pain to hatred. He tried to get up, but without one arm, his attempt was pathetic.

I grabbed him by the collar of his uniform and lifted him, pressing him against the ship's wall.

"You're going to tell me everything I need to know about this ship," I growled, my hands tightening around his throat.

"Or I'll make sure your pain lasts much longer."

He spat blood and rage at me, resisting with all his might. "I'll… never… tell you… anything!"

I smiled, a cold, humorless smile. "We'll see about that." With a swift move, I thrust my hand into the nearest terminal, ripping out wires and chips, connecting myself directly to the ship's system. Meanwhile, my other hand kept the Gordanian pinned.

I felt the resistance of the security systems, but the technology in my suit surpassed any block they had. The ship began to yield to my command, one system after another.

However, I needed more specific information, and for that, the Gordanian still had a use.

"I'll ask you one more time," I said, my words icy. "Where are the main controls and the energy core of this ship?"

He hesitated, but upon seeing the threatening red glow in my eyes, his determination faltered. "The controls are… on the bridge, two levels up," he whispered, each word a struggle.

"The energy core… is in the heart of the ship, three levels down."

"Thank you," I said, my voice laden with satisfaction.

"Now, rest." With a quick move, I struck his head against the wall, leaving him unconscious.

Connected to the ship's system, I could feel its structure, its defense systems, and its weak points. I prepared for the next stage of the plan. With the ship under my control, the Tamaraneans would have a real chance to turn the tide against the Gordanians.

I moved with speed and precision, knowing that time was of the essence. Every second counted as I made my way to the bridge, ready to take full control and bring the battle to its conclusion.

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I decided that the first step would be to take control of the energy core. If I could disable the ship's firing systems, it would give the Tamaraneans a better chance to attack effectively. I followed the corridor, ignoring the alarms echoing through the ship. There was no time for subtlety.

I descended three levels until I reached the lower compartments where the energy core was located. Upon entering the room, I was met with an unexpected sight.

Several slave workers of various races were chained to workstations, keeping the lower systems running. Their faces were a mix of fear and mistrust.

To my left, there was a group of Tamaraneans, their orange skin glowing faintly under the dim light of the room. Their green eyes, usually full of life, were dull and tired. They operated control terminals, monitoring the ship's energy distribution. Their hands trembled with exhaustion as they adjusted parameters with mechanical precision, their faces covered in grime and sweat.

Next to them, a group of Kallurians, with their scaly blue-toned skin, operated heavy machinery. Their claws scraped against the controls, and their multifaceted eyes blinked constantly, an expression of pain reflected in each movement. The Kallurians were known for their brute strength, and it was evident that the Gordanians exploited this quality to its limit. Heavy chains bound their legs, restricting their movements as they lifted and adjusted massive components of the core.

A bit further away, a pair of Rannians, more fragile in appearance, were tasked with calibrating the delicate instruments that regulated the core's temperature. Their pale skin and white hair starkly contrasted with the filthy and oppressive environment. The Rannians were famous for their intelligence and precision, and it was clear the Gordanians kept them under constant surveillance, ready to punish any mistake.

Further along, I saw a group of Grolls, short and sturdy creatures with dark green skin and small, bright eyes, crawling along the floor, cleaning and repairing exposed wiring. Their bodies were covered in scars, and their movements were slow and heavy, each step a struggle against exhaustion. Chains on their wrists and ankles clinked with every movement, a constant reminder of their miserable condition.

In the center of the room, a Durlanian, capable of shape-shifting, was trapped in its original form, a translucent, amorphous mass, manipulating several panels simultaneously. Even in its weakened state, the skill and dexterity with which it worked were evident. The glow in its eyes revealed a sharp intelligence despite the inhumane conditions.

Their faces were a reflection of years of abuse and enslavement, with deep physical and emotional scars. It was evident that most of them barely had the strength to continue, their miserable appearances a testament to prolonged suffering. Their uniforms were tattered and filthy, and many showed signs of malnutrition and disease. The room, filled with the acrid smell of sweat and oil, was a true hell for these workers.

"Are you prisoners of the Gordanians?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

One of them, an old Tamaranean, nodded. "Yes, stranger. They forced us to work here. We've been trapped for years."

I watched them as they freed themselves, still distrustful, but now with a spark of hope. "Stay in the lower levels and wait. I'll end this soon," I repeated, before heading towards the energy core.

The core's controls were complex, but not for me. My mind processed the information quickly, and I soon found the system transferring energy to the ship's cannons. With a few precise adjustments and commands, I interrupted the energy flow. The sound of the cannons ceasing echoed through the ship, signaling that the first part of my plan had succeeded.

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Without wasting a moment, I sped out of the core room in a blur of speed. I ascended through the ship's levels, flying down corridors, smashing doors, and freeing prisoners wherever I found them. In every compartment, the conditions were equally horrific: beings of all races, hungry, beaten, forced to work under constant threat of death.

Each slave I liberated received the same instruction: "Go down to the lower levels and wait. Freedom is near." Their expressions of surprise and gratitude fueled my determination. They would soon be free, and the Gordanians would pay dearly for their crimes.

The Gordanian soldiers who tried to stop me stood no chance. My strength and speed were superior, and I easily knocked them down. Every blow sent a Gordanian flying into the walls of the ship, their bodies falling unconscious to the floor. The rage inside me fueled my strength; each fallen soldier was a small vengeance for the innocents suffering.

I finally reached the command bridge. The doors burst open with a crash, and I was met with a scene of chaos. Gordanian officers were in a frenzy, shouting orders and trying to regain control of the ship. The bridge commander, a tall and muscular Gordanian, glared at me with pure fury.

"Intruder on the bridge!" he roared. Soldiers positioned themselves, ready to confront me.

But they were not prepared for my fury. I launched myself at them with unstoppable speed and strength. My fists found their marks with devastating precision, each blow knocking down a soldier. Energy bursts from my eyes cut through the air, hitting those beyond the reach of my fists.

I annihilated each Gordanian soldier with precision and force, knocking them down as if they were nothing more than insignificant obstacles in my path. One after another, their bodies fell, creating a trail of chaos and destruction. The command bridge was in complete turmoil, officers shouting orders in a desperate attempt to restore some semblance of control.

Then, the bridge commander stepped forward. He was a colossal Gordanian, clad in battle armor that increased his height to an impressive eleven feet. His heavy armor gleamed under the ship's lights, and he was armed with heavy ammunition ready to obliterate anything in his path. His eyes, full of fury, met mine.

"Intruder, do you dare challenge the Citadel? I am Admiral Kraggar, and this will be your tomb!" he bellowed, his voice reverberating through the bridge walls.

Without a second wasted, Kraggar advanced, his weapons firing. Explosions echoed through the room, but I moved with superior speed and agility, easily dodging each attack. Every bullet that passed me only fueled my determination.

When he realized his shots wouldn't hit me, Kraggar dropped his weapons and charged into hand-to-hand combat. He tried to strike me with his massive fists, each blow as powerful as a battering ram, but I dodged and counterattacked with deadly precision. His strikes were heavy but slow compared to my speed.

"Never underestimate a Strontian," I said, my tone icy and full of contempt. "You stand no chance against me."

Our battle was fierce but one-sided. Kraggar, despite his immense strength and size, was clumsy and slow. Every blow he struck found only empty air, while my attacks hit his weak spots with devastating accuracy. His armor, meant to be an advantage, became a burden.

With a swift motion, I delivered a powerful blow that made him stagger back, his armor shattering. Kraggar fell to his knees, panting, but still full of hatred.

"The Citadel... will not be shaken by this," he growled, trying to rise once more. "You may defeat us here, but our strength is endless."

I approached slowly, my eyes burning with restrained fury. "It's only a matter of time," I replied coldly. "Every tyrant falls eventually. And you will be just the beginning."

With a decisive motion, I raised my hand and delivered a deadly blow. My hand pierced through armor and flesh, ripping the admiral's head off with a single strike. His body fell lifeless to the floor, and his head rolled, eyes still wide in a final expression of shock and terror.

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From here, let's skip to the meeting with the allied planets of the Vega System, along with a brief coverage of the news about the event we just witnessed.