“Status,” a calm, baritone voice asked. Admiral Oliver’s tone bordered on indifference as he stared at the various displays before him. The multi-colored displays blinked with scrolling information as the various crew members did their jobs. They were among the best of what humanity offered.

“We are exiting hyperspace in t-minus 25 minutes,” an equally cool voice replied. Captain Rick replied as he adjusted the information output. Everything was clean and efficient, the markings of his background as a former special intelligence agent.

Admiral Oliver nodded as his eyes roved over the various reports. He was in command of the advanced fleet to secure the front lines. Either by domination or by sacrifice.

One month ago, the entire system of the Goldia Galaxy was in trouble. Then all communication was jammed and went dark. Which was very troubling considering how big Goldia was. A class 10 galaxy. Which meant it was, roughly, 10 times larger than the mother galaxy.

At such an extreme range from the core, even rushing, it had taken a standard month to organize and dispatch the armada they were currently spearheading.

Oliver flicked through the Goldia statistics. The small colony of 200 quintillion pioneers. They had settled in barely 400 years ago. No large scale military presence aside peacekeeping forces as per pioneer protocols. Militia armadas were cute at best.

The Neighbors were only a little older by 300 odd years. Odd.

The aged Admiral paused as he zoomed out of the galactic map. Goldia was not the furthest fringe colony, though it was very close considering that barely 200,000 light-years away was the official pioneer fleet.

The Ososira Galaxy was still transmitting information back. It matched the two galaxies in the back. They were under attack, but with better luck as the escort armadas were doing their jobs.

Which begged the question. What happened to Goldia’s militia armada?

“Incoming data waves,” communication officer Sophia exclaimed as she deciphered the encryption and sent the information to the Captain.

Oliver grunted as he skimmed the data before sending it off to fleet command, while also making non-sensitive information available to anyone curious on the ship. Rick frowned as he dug deeper into the data.

“Warping out in t-minus 1 minute,” helmsman Shin stated as the ship wiggled in hyperspace. Signs of a heavy exit.

Oliver eyed the viewscreens as “Her Majesty” popped out into war.

“Status,” a grouchy falsetto voice demanded as angry alarms chimed and rang with fervor. The taxed crew hopped around her commands like bunnies as one of the terminals gave up and lit on fire.

Commander Jane frowned as the zombie terminal tried to die yet again. The two officers quickly dealt with the hazard as Captain Xiao-Long stared at the viewscreen.

The front lines were a mess. 612 hours of combat and the militia fleet of the Swelverk Galaxy was doomed. They had nothing else to draw on and the core worlds here did not have the miracle factories of the core.

“Next wave, incoming,” officer Rion sighed as he projected the war lines. It looked like a dozen children were given crayons and told to go.

Xiao-Long cursed in half a dozen languages as she watched the alien lines slowly begin to advance. Damn them. Did they know no mercy!?

“Incoming!” officer Rion screamed as his emotion took an injection of joy. This immediately caught everyone’s attention. His hands danced on the keyboard as he relayed critical updates to whoever.

A large rectangle appeared above them and Captain Xiao-Long jumped to her feet as she screamed out in joy. The bridge officers quickly followed.

The snap of warp in was always weird to see. One moment it was empty, the next there was something there. Except for this time, the physical matter was a modern warship from the core armada.

The ship sent out a variety of signals and messages as the capital ship took charge as the rest of the fleet warped in as well.

The “Golden Fleet” that all servicemen dreamed of joining. The best of the best was the baseline, which meant that those who were exceptional were genius.

Acting Commodore, Captain Xiao-Long sat down with a sigh as help had finally reached them. Which meant that this war was over.

“{Pleased} Update,” True Hunter Zwelbok skittered towards his fellow grubs as he wiggled. His four large eyes watched the battle unfurl. How glorious. His pheromones communicated his elation.

“{Pleased} The bipeds are nearly crushed. We will hail the hive and the drones can migrate in soon,” hunter Ziik hissed in return as he clapped his mandibles in joy.

“Incoming!” the antenna grub stated and they all watched as a large ship detached from the null sky. Unlike the sub-skillix sized ship, this was a full multi-skillix. Proper for their battles.

It was bigger, true. This did not deter Zwelbok however. They still had the upper hand.

“{Eager} Forty-Second line, advance. Support the Forty-first line!” Ziik commanded and his mixed pheromones told of his eagerness and joy. Watching their enemies fall and scatter was such fun.

“Incoming!”

Zwelbok frowned. His True Hunter senses were tingling. “{Concern} Update!”

“{Concern} They have another 100, 000 ships. Their lines have doubled.”

“{Annoyed} They are simply delaying the inevitable,” Ziik clacked out as he did the math. 250, 000 against their 4 million. No concern necessary.”

“{Shock} Incoming!”

“{Fear} Update!” Ziik clacked his mandibles in agitation. His bravado was shaken.

“{Concern} Another 100, 000 ships have detached… Incoming!”

Zwelbok and Ziik shared a look as their pheromones intermingled.

“{Horror} Large scale hive has detached. Null impact incoming!”

The ship rocked as the large scale detachment of a massive hive sent the normal space into havoc.

“{Anger} Update!” Ziik commanded as the ship stabilized.

“{Horror} Biped ships have increased. Reinforcements in the millions. We are outnumbered by a factor of ten!”

“{Horror} Impossible!” Ziik screeched out.

“{Urgent} Recall all grubs. Fold the lines. We retreat! Alert the Hive!” Zwelbok commanded. His experience cuts through the fear despite his shaking. The bipeds were weak. How did they have this many ships!?

“{Shock} Incoming! {Panic} Larger signature inbound!”

The ship rumbled as the resulting detachment sent their ship careening. Ziik was thrown from his seat and Zwelbok grunted as he watched two ships collide to on their side.

“{FEAR} Retreat!” Zwelbok commanded and their ship slowly began to turn and flee back to their recent conquest of a galaxy. They needed to reform their lines. The hive would be ready.

“{Panic} Incoming!”

Zwelbok’s pheromones intermingled with the rest of the crew. Fear. So much fear.

“{Panic} Incoming!”

The fear only grew denser as Zwelbok, True Hunter of the Hive watched. Watch and witness as the biped’s front lines begin to advance on them.

“{Panic} Incoming!”