Vikkron (DISCONTINUED)

Purple Flare

Noir was sitting in his chair, starting deeply into the terminal screen. His grimy ship was quite small, having all it's systems accessable from the single control room. The ship chugged forward through a wormhole, heading towards the new Izal outpost at the edge of the galaxy. Although many still didn't want to fight their enemies, there were officials who wanted to advance into Hallow. Supposably those officials called for more ships such as carriers and frigates to act as posts or patrollers.

The possible threat of the Izal and the fact that their past wasn't very legitimate was quite obvious. Why make weapons and starships of such power if they had never had reason to use them? They were lacking passive ships, too. No one had enough information of the new race, and it seemed like getting that information wouldn't be a simple walk in the park.

Then, the ship picked up energy signatures of another ship, Observatory, entering Noir's wormhole. This was much larger that his tiny merchant ship, it had a small hangar bay at the bottom and looked to hold a decent sized crew. Both ships dropped out of the wormhole and slowed to a halt. Then, a man, Vitarian, jumped out of the hangar of the Observatory and into that of Noir's, landing effortlessly. Noir grabbed out his shotgun and pumped it.

***

The Genesis had it's next major goal—to use the galaxy map given to the Izal by Noir to travel to a point of interest at Nova Two, a sector around the galaxy's center. One specific location was labeled "Passage To The Lopside." After hours of research while traveling to Nova Two, the "Lopside" was a separate realm of quite nightmarish creatures that appeared only black and white, no gray, wherever they were. They, based on the files on the Lopside, were similar to beings with a "high lifeforce," others seen as "Creators." Either way, none of the powerful beings that existed were to be rekoned with, and there were many names for them in each separate galaxy.

From their present location, the Genesis would take around a day to arrive outside the Lopside. The trip went through an Ion Storm, so they'd have to drop out of the wormhole and either take a detour or fly through the thick ionic fog. However, that would not need to be worried about until the time came.

The commander lay in her quarters, dressed in a sleeveless undershirt and shorts, reading more on the races of Hallow. As in their galaxy, there weren't many intellectual species in the vicinity of one another. Many of the higher factions controlled multiple planets and had disputes between one another upon meeting for the first time. Maybe, after all of the fighting was over, the Izal could ally with other species as well.

Meh-vaj set the book down on the wrinkled bedsheets and looked at her clock. Having eight hours left before her waking shift, she went over to her terminal, starting out into a vibrant simulation of the stars. She opened up a messenger and looked at the profiles of her comrades and friends. One was online, as always. She clicked the profile and started typing:

*Meh-vaj: What do you think we should do? 

*Rel: ??? On what? Specify please?

*Meh-vaj: The war. Should we fight it, or leave in hopes to stop it?

*Rel: You're throwing this at me now? Besides, do we even have a choice? Our superiors will hunt us down and destroy us without thought.

*Meh-vaj: I know, it's not smart... But I was reading through documents that we've translated. There are many space stations that are open to races hostile to the Terrans. We could go there!

*Rel: You really are insane, no?

*Rel: ...What stations?

Meh-vaj smiled behind the terminal screen.

*Meh-vaj: The T.S.E.R.S.S. It's somewhere out in the Agros sector of the galaxy. Should we head there tommorow?

*Rel: Ugh... Alright. If we get killed, though, I'm blaming it on you.

*Meh-vaj: Fire away.

Meh-vaj shut down her terminal, stood up, and lay down in her bed. Grabbing a remote on her nightstand, she pressed a button, letting the display of stars glowing in purple flare fade away into complete darkness.

***

"I don't pleasure being visited by you, Creation," Noir said. "Everyone knows that a visit from you isn't good."

A glitchy voice replied from the corridors of the grimy ship. "I've never understood why people tend to fear me," it said. "I'm just your average person who was a scientific host to a successful experiment."

"Who can kill someone and not even care."

"I know, I know,"  the voice creaked. "Though, there are upsides, being a living weapon of extreme power as one of them."

"I can't trust you, Creation. You know that. Your kind aren't trusted anywhere anymore."

"Except at the station, of course. I'm always welcome there, hehe." A floating body in a red-maroon cloak crossed the hallway in front of the control room. Noir shot in surprise and fear, missing by quite the calibre. "Cut to the chase!" He yelled. "What do you want?"

"The Izal. I've heard that you've allied with them. Knowing your kind, scalawags and theives, you're bound to give them up for a price."

"You think I'll give up the Izal? The ones who are warring with the TGF? The Terrans are still a possible threat to all throughout Hallow and beyond, being a neutral expansive party."

"The Izal currently are being seen as hostile expansive to many parties, Noir. Don't be gullible. You know that they can turn on you as fast as they started this whole mess." The wall to Noir's left was blasted apart in an explosion, smoke filling the room. The cloaked body floated in, it's left eye glowing as a purple flame. "I just need the information to fight or stop this nonsense."

Noir shot at the body again, although knowing that a simple splash of bullets would not sway the Creator. A rounded sphere lit up like a reflection on colored sunglasses as the bullets touched it, dissolving in an instant. "Knew you'd have that sheild," he said. In surprise, Noir was thrust up into the back wall, unable to get to the floor. The Creator laughed, walking over to the terminal and inserting a transfer drive.

In a few moments, the transfer was complete. The floor vibrated softly as Noir fell, still alive. "Thanks for your business," the Creator said, dropping a bag of credits onto the desk. "Keep the change," they said before floating out onto their ship and flying off.

Noir bashed his arm against the left, undamaged wall. Getting back on the terminal, he looked at what the Creator had taken.

Everything. He had files on all of the known Izal locations, their weapons, everything. And, knowing the Creator Arkivitalius, something was going to happen to someone.