Outskirts

The Outskirts

Crimson screens flicker to life as a Garla captain enters the bridge of her ship. Her half unclasped boots scrape against the floor as she trudges toward the main console. She drags a clawed purple hand weakly down the screen to unlock it. She then slumps down in the chair, her heavy lidded yellow eyes tiredly trailing over crew reports. It was 03:23 in the morning as she was not enjoying it one bit, but she didn't have a choice. Her mining squadron was to be moved from sector 15,294.6 to 16,459.3 by 03:30 hours, and she didn't have any time to waste. The move was sudden, but it didn't surprise her. They can nearly cleansed this entire section of the empire of valuable recorces, and now it was time to move to the next recorce rich sector. She clicks a button on the screen to enable the station wide speaker system. "Prepare for hyper jump in t-minus 5...4...3...2...1..." space seems to fold around the small mining station for a few moments before resolidifying into...nothing.

Only a black void dotted with stars streaches out endlessly before them. She sat bolt upright, vaulting over the console to stand in front of the forward window. Her amber eyes did not deceive her. There was nothing. No asteroids to be harvested, no planets to be raided of recorces. Just...nothing. She hurriedly checks the coordinates. Sure enough, they where supposedly positioned in sector 16,459.3. There had to be a mistake. No one should have touched this area of space yet. She had been informed that there would be plentiful recorces and supplies at this location. But it seems as though her informant had been...misinformed.

Her purple ears twitch as she tries to contain her anger, her hoop earings jangling. She turns and walks out of the main hub, entering a lift that takes her directly down to her quarters.

Her room was nothing special. A badly made bed with sheets and pillows strewn about, a small bedside table, and her personal closet that doubled as her armory. The area was sparsely decorated, despite her nearly two decades aboard the damned mining station. She had hoped for a better position after she had spent some time leading this mining crew, but none had came. She was certain that her skills would be better used in the battlefield, but no opportunity had serfaced.

She grudgingly pushed the contempt out of her main train of thought as she steps into her small closet. Her main goal now was to inform her crew of the misfortune.

In twenty minutes time she reentered the command center of the bridge. Most of her higher ranking officers had entered the room, awaiting her arrival. She was clad in traditional Galra armor, with a short sash hanging off her back and an eyepiece over her right eye. She takes a moment to gather herself before stepping up to her platform. "As I am certain you all have already noticed, this sector is devoid of any harvestable materials. I have checked and rechecked our scanners to make sure we truly are in the correct location, and we supposedly are. Sector 16,459.3 for future reference," She pauses, sighing as she takes off her eyepiece to polish it on her sash, making a point to avoid eye contact. "We do not currently have enough fuel to make a jump back to main imperial controlled space." This earned a rumble of murmuring amongst the crew. This was certainly troubling news to say the least. Before anyone could speak, the captain continues. "We must make it our first priority to get back to civilization." The crew nod in agreement, glancing between eachother. "That is all for now," She sighs, stepping down and toward the door.

Almost as soon as she exits, a tall soldier pulls her off to the side to speak. She exhales slowly before looking up at her younger brother. "Yes Sol? What is it?" She asks tiredly.

"I have some information that might interst you about our current predicament, Euke." He says under his breath, trying to be as inconspicuous as possible.

Euke was immediately alert, gesturing for him to follow her back to her quarters. Once they enter, she pulls a chair out for him before sitting down on her bed. She leans forward, intent on what he was to say next.

"First of all, one of out engines was internally damaged within the last forty-eight hours. Someone must have sabotaged it from the inside because one of the fuel lines was cut. Even if we were to have enough energy for another jump, the engine would stall, or worse."

Her frown deepens. This was worse than she had originally thought.

"That's just the begining," he continues, his dark yellow eyes shining fiercely. "I've heard talk of a turncoat in our ranks. They are apparently part of the resistance against Emporor Zarcon. They want to strand us here so that we cannot come to the aid of the main fleet when Voltron strikes."

Euke's eyes widen. "So Voltron has returned. I did not belive the rumors."

"Well, apparently it has, or some belive so," Sol grumbles, the chair creaking as he leans back. "We must watch out, and be careful what we say in public. We never know who is listening."

She nods quietly in agreement. This whent farther than she thought it would. She had believed it just to be a miscalculation or mistransfer of orders. But it wasn't. "Keep me informed on what is happening. I'll keep an ear out too. You're right, we can't be too careful."

He nods, standing and exiting the room.

Over the next few hours, Euke whent through security feed after security feed, scrutinizing each and every one of her troops. It was then that the emergency lights turned on in her room. She shoots to her feet and dashes out of the room and toward the bridge.

"Ma'am!" A young soldier yells as she enters the room, his eyes wide in fear. "Communications have been shut down completely."

Euke curses under her breath. That was horrible news, but it didn't explain the fear in the trained soldier's eyes.

"What else?" She says between clenched teeth, her hands gripping the cold guardrail.

"Cadet Mull has been murdered."