Moments Before Arrival — Edge of the Venter System
The Voidspire loomed like a fang in the void, its hull cloaked in ritual shrouds of anti-detection static. The forward fleet crept behind her like a predator pack awaiting their alpha's command. Within her throne chamber, Whisperer Vaelora activated the encrypted holo-link to Admiral Kia.
A shimmer of light, and the imposing figure of Kia emerged mid-projection—armor blackened from battle, her face streaked with dust and plasma smoke. Behind her, a Zelith cruiser detonated, casting light across her helm like a second sun. She didn't flinch.
Vaelora's voice, cold and absolute, cut across the distance.
"You burn too quickly, Admiral. The prey is not yet ripe."
Kia snarled.
"They resist. Admiral Tyresh commands the fleet. But it's the ground vermin—Commander Vekra—who holds the surface. He's dug in, and the High Council ordered him not to fall. He intends to die here."
"Then let him believe he has time," Vaelora replied. "Pull back. Maintain orbit and illusion. Let them see hesitation… as if we falter."
Vice General Tano, looming behind Kia, leaned forward into view.
"We lose momentum if we hesitate."
Vaelora's gaze narrowed.
"No. You gain infection. I will deploy a seed. You will know when to harvest."
Kia scoffed—then nodded, the scar along her jaw flexing.
"Very well. We bleed them slowly. Until your trap bears teeth."
The transmission ended.
Mission Briefing: Tamun & Je'ka
In the Voidspire's inner sanctum, Tamun and Je'ka knelt before Vaelora once more, flanked by the handler Ruthen, a hulking woman whose body was crisscrossed with ritual scars and whose left arm had been replaced by a bonded neural gauntlet to control Thal'Karn.
Beside her crouched the beast: Esh'tal, one of the few Thal'Karn bred specifically for infiltration and psychological warfare. Its iridescent black chitin shimmered unnaturally. The creature breathed shallowly, like it was dreaming of blood.
Vaelora did not look at her attendants as she spoke.
"You will descend in stealth. Deep beneath the crust of Venter, near the ruins of their first defense grid. Your false identities have been encoded. You will pose as escaped thralls from the Darcile sector. Scared. Broken. Clever enough to be spared."
"You will find the command under Vekra. Map his morale. Break his faith. Infect the ranks with paranoia. Disinformation, whispers, sabotage. Succeed… and I will elevate you both above all others."
Tamun swallowed.
"And if we fail…?"
Vaelora's gaze slid to Ruthen, then to the beast.
"Then Esh'tal and Ruthen will ensure you do not fall into enemy hands. Nor return as traitors."
Je'ka bowed lower.
"We serve only you, Mistress."
"See that you do," Vaelora said, turning her back. "Go."
Infiltration Launch: The Stealth Drop
The infiltration vessel—Kite of Silence—was a sleek, black-wedged craft engineered for atmospheric penetration and psychic dampening. Its hold smelled of iron and cold sweat. The Thal'Karn clung to the ceiling in stillness as Ruthen finalized trajectory calibration.
Tamun sat, stiff, staring into the bulkhead.
Je'ka whispered, voice low.
"We'll return. We have to."
Tamun didn't answer.
Ruthen stepped into view, glaring at them both.
"You understand your purpose. Speak only when needed. Never lead. Show pain. Show desperation. And remember—if either of you endangers this mission…"
She nodded up toward the dark coil of legs and claws above.
"…he'll wear your spine as a trophy."
She paused—then smirked.
"Now breathe. We descend in twenty."
Above Venter — The Storm Begins
A curtain of shadow-fire ripped through the stars as the combined fleets of Admiral Kia and Whisperer Vaelora surged into Venter's orbit.
Tens of thousands of Mahasimu vessels materialized from void-rift corridors—long, angular warships sheathed in blacklight armor, bristling with siege cannons and dark-energy disrupters. Plasma lances screamed across the void, ripping into Admiral Tyresh's outer perimeter.
Zelith fighters responded in tight formation. Shields flared. Debris spiraled across orbit like scorched glass.
At the head of the assault, Admiral Kia stood at the command dais of the Spear of Umbara, her voice clipped and cold.
"Push their flanks. Cut their long-range channels. But do not overextend. The point is noise, not victory."
Behind her, Vice General Tano monitored the fleet's kinetic spread with perfect calm.
"They'll think we've committed too much, too early."
Kia smirked.
"Let them. Let Tyresh see our fire. Let him taste hope."
Across the void, Voidspire, Vaelora's dreadnought, coordinated precision strikes—disrupting Zelith sensor arrays, jamming orbital scan clusters, fracturing planetary uplinks. The illusion was perfect: an overwhelming push on multiple fronts.
But it was not to conquer.
It was to distract.
Infiltration: Tamun, Je'ka, Ruthen, and the Beast
Amid the chaos, a small wedge-shaped craft broke from the Voidspire's underbelly: the Kite of Silence, veiled in cloaking spectrums, quantum scatter-fields, and psionic null screens.
Inside the vessel sat Tamun and Je'ka, lowly attendants pressed into the service of something far beyond their station. They were not soldiers. They were tools.
Across from them, strapped into the central bracing harness, loomed Ruthen, the Thal'Karn handler, helmet dark and breath calm.
Above, clinging to the ribbed ceiling of the small transport, the Thal'Karn Esh'tal hung like a sleeping predator—its limbs twitching with unspent instinct.
Tamun clenched his fists, knuckles white.
"So much fire… for us to fall unseen," he murmured, staring through the viewport as streaks of burning ships passed by.
Ruthen did not turn.
"Be silent. Speak only in lies when you're below. And remember—this creature does not kill for sport. It kills on command."
Je'ka glanced up, whispering.
"And whose command?"
Ruthen grinned beneath her helm.
"Vaelora's. Always."
The ship shuddered as it pierced the atmosphere.
Planetfall: Unseen and Unwanted
The Kite of Silence descended like a ghost into the war-torn crags outside Tyven's Reach, the ancient fortress-city where Commander Vekra directed the planetary defense. Shield fields flickered with stress. Barrages screamed overhead.
Inside the command bunker, Admiral Tyresh narrowed his eyes at the tactical displays.
"Their assault pattern is erratic. Too precise. They know where not to strike."
Commander Vekra, still bearing the cracked armor of the morning's battle, grimaced.
"It's a show. They want us to think they're desperate. But they're pulling their claws back before they even sink in."
"Or they're hiding the bite," Tyresh muttered. "Initiate full sensor sweeps. I want the underground thermals, psi-resonance, and cloak-piercing radar engaged."
"Sir, we already run them every twelve cycles"
"Now make it six."
But it was too late.
Tamun, Je'ka, Ruthen, and Esh'tal had already slipped past the veil of fire and flame. The plan had worked.
Orbit Withdraws: The Mahasimu Pull Back
As planned, the Mahasimu assault began to slow.
Frigates drifted outward. Capital ships aligned behind cover fields. The fury dimmed, like coals being hidden beneath ash.
From the command deck of Voidspire, Vaelora watched the withdrawal unfold through her throne's obsidian scry-field.
Captain Nyrek approached and bowed.
"The twins have landed. The diversion held."
Vaelora gave a slight nod.
"Good. Now we let them ferment."
Tamun and Je'ka: The Mission Begins
Within the lowland canyons below Tyven's Reach, the stealth pod sank beneath the dust.
Esh'tal scuttled first, vanishing into the cracks of the earth, becoming shadow incarnate. Ruthen emerged next, setting the psi-beacon behind them, activating silent protocols.
Tamun, eyes wide, whispered to Je'ka.
"This is real. We're… we're really doing this."
Je'ka didn't answer.
Instead, she looked back once toward the high horizon where Mahasimu ships still glinted—and where death itself sat watching from above.
Tyresh's Suspicion Grows
Back in the planetary war room, a tech-priest hissed in warning.
"Admiral, anomaly detected. Brief heat bloom. Subsurface."
Tyresh spun.
"Where?"
"Three clicks west of Tyven's Reach. Near the broken siege tunnels from Cycle 4."
Tyresh narrowed his eyes.
"I knew it. They dropped something. Not a bomb—a snake."
He turned to Vekra.
"Seal the west sectors. Triple patrols. No one in or out without my clearance."
The trap had been set. The pieces were moving.
And Venter was now a board of whispers, shadows, and blood.