Federation: Galactic Resource Wars

Year I: Act 2: The making of a fighter

Sector 3: highly populated
System: Thorium Lim 72-73
Planet: P0-6 (gas giant, heavily terraformed)

P0-6 is a planet that inspires awe to many people. Only a few years back it was a gas giant, much like Jupiter. Now it looked much like a machine, with massive cyber cities stretching from one pole to the other and satellites orbiting it and controlling everything, from the weather all the way to how much soil there is. No, P0-6 doesn't look like earth at all, even though that was the goal at the beginning, rather, it looks like an intimidating robotic beast, with it's thunderstorms howling on the atmosphere, and the heavily populated cities reaching for the stars. This planet is a trade center, the base of many galactic corporations and not surprisingly, Federation's main headquarters.

Tayler's Zeta-99 Command Unit pierced through the thick atmosphere and set course to the main docking bases near the headquarters. The headquarters themselves, dominated the scenery. They were situated on the side of a large artificial mountain, overlooking the city. The building itself looked much like a futuristic high tech hive, with many support buildings on the side and a defense ring on it's base, covered by automated Lazer cannons, frantically following and scanning all movement.
The distinct feature of the building was a large glass dome on it's very top and two large banners with the federation's emblem on each side.

Triopal was absorbing all of this information from her dorm window. And she lingered on the emblem, with a hateful look. The emblem was just three colored rhombi, the blue one on top, and the green and orange one situated below by the bottom right and left respectively. Some alien and English writing made a circle around them, but Triopal couldn't make sense of it. Tayler intruded her room again.

"What. Do you. Want?" She turns annoyed.

Tayler smiles and leans closer and hands her over an Iridian native dish. Triopal's eyes shimmer and she grabs the bowl in her hands with quick moves.
He observes the girl while she eats, not being able to turn around even though he was feeling like a creep. She mustn't be much over twenty in earth years.
Triopal's jade green skin shined under the dorm's dim light and a soft purple light was shining behind her, from a tall industrial building, casting a soft shadow on her. Her brown straight hair came to a red end, a relic left from her early teenage life. Her eyes, shining charteuse eyes, shifted from the bowl, to the window, to Tayler and back to her bowl. Her body, untainted, clean, strong, flexible, her chest softly shifting as she was taking breaths between bites. Tayler snapped out of it.
"So." He says.

"So?" Triopal mimics his voice with her mouth full.

"You go under three months of training, then join me on my campaigns against Synox."

"Why with you? And not by myself?" She genuinely asks, swallowing her bite.

"Because I run things here."

"Yes, you and, like, fourteen other alien mathusalas."

He huffs with clear annoyance.

"Look, if you agree to enter the program, I'm your superior and you should respect and take orders from me. Clear?" He says, now his voice tougher.

She giggles.
"You're cute when you're angry!"

That enrages him and he turns red
"Enough is enough!" He shouts, dropping his first on the steal walls.

She stops giggling.

"Now you got two choices, either the trainer dorm, or the deepest dirtiest dungeon in the facility! Make your choice!"
He grunts with a decisive and coarse voice, much like a teacher scolding their student.
"I chose your damn dungeon!" She steps up.

"Much like your father, you make poor choices!" He barks, turning his back to her and the hydraulics doors shuts behind him.

She's once again left in the room alone, the purple light shutting off and the ship's engines powering down and cutting the electricity, leaving her in darkness. Two heavy soldiers looking a lot like spacemen enter the room and grab her by the shoulders, lifting her up effortlessly and carrying her, against her will. She knew resisting them would be futile, as their strong grip numbed her muscles.