Cantral The Entra

You need a strong message.

I step into main command, a seamless window scrolls around half the room and once more I'm face to face with Prime. A smooth black orb, which camouflages against space, a predator of mass destruction. Her offspring, from the goliath Battle Cruisers to the sleek, unmanned reconnaissance drones and every intimidating fighter in-between are safe here under her watchful gaze. But the minute we rapid travel away, we're thrust into a more unforgiving reality. As Fendan said, entra are spread thin, and we have no end of enemies. Yes, I'm scared to leave my protective fortress.

Soft chatter and dutiful mechanical beeps steal me from my melancholy. My gaze is redirected to closer afield. Entra in main command are more refined and reserved than their counterparts that stalk the canteens. Neat hair, fresh clean uniforms, trimmed nails, that tap touchscreens with poise and elegance.

My hand skims across the back of a chair, one ever so slightly smaller and less intimidating than the one beside it. Smooth, soft, black fabric covers it, the same material as my chair, the one beside it. I ease myself carefully into the Captain's seat, as if I expect opposition, as if I expect them to know my imposter status. But not a single voice raises a concern, not a single set of eyes stray my way. The moment passes without observation, without ceremony.

From this vantage I can see the entirety of main command, a vast, bustling space filled with upwards of one hundred people. Officers of main command. Highly skilled, with decades of service decorating their jumpsuits. Haroc would not give me a green crew, but he gave them a green Captain. Will they groan internally as I enter a room? Will they whisper behind my back and rage against my inexperienced leadership?

Upon my raised platform, I watch flashing lights, and screens as they populate with information about navigation, communication, weaponry, Oneeran geography. It's all accessible from this one room. And there's a team of elite specialists assigned to each, working autonomously, oblivious, so far, to my presence. These colossal vessels are no easy feat to maintain. Or build.

A surge of adrenaline courses through me. This ship is mine, its crew are mine to command. I'm where I always wanted to be, I'm sat in the chair I've wished to occupy for years. But... I sigh, where's my passion? Where's my heart? Why does this sight not fill me with euphoria? Did Fendan feel as I do the first time he sat in the chair? Did Haroc?

Jaxa sits in the chair beside me. "Cantral, we are ready to leave, we await your command."

My command. Mine. I cannot hide behind the orders of a superior as every other person can within this ship. I stare at Naerris, if Oneera falls, it will be my fault. My fault.

"Retract from Prime," I give the order confidently. "Once clear, rapid travel, we fall out at Oneera."

The ship lunges forward as we depart from Prime. Our pilot traverses Battle Cruiser infested space smoothly, and I leave behind everything I have ever known. We pass stationary ships, Prime's offspring, but they'll fight to the death to protect their mother. Open space stands before us, and with a pull of a lever, rapid travel engages.

The ship tingles with energy, a silent pulsing buzz. Prime disappears, Naerris disappears. Now, I truly am alone. We move faster than the speed of light, faster than the sight of the Universe, beneath our ships the cosmos shrinks.

Our journey has begun, two days until we reach Oneera. A beautiful planet of sapphire blue oceans and land like emeralds. But its days are numbered, once the entra are done with it, it won't behold beauty. It won't behold anything.

I hold the screen Fendan gave me and read again through the mission. Another folder catches my attention and a note from Fendan heads the text: I thought it might be helpful to learn a little about Oneeran cultures, you never know when this stuff will come in handy.