Admiral José Rodriguez, the last living Terran, slowly strides toward the bubble-shield separating the Bloodbearer's hangar bay from the blackness of the Void outside. The oxygen-shield allows physical objects to pass through, while also maintaining the pressurization of the hangar, providing a window-like viewing experience into the galaxy beyond the Bloodbearer's shadow.

After arriving next to the oxygen barrier, José flicks his eyes from left to right.

"Umi?"

His single-word question transmits to his ship's synthmind, the Unified Management Interface. Umi's robotic female voice replies immediately.

"Admiral Rodriguez. I have taken over the Dragon's Breath's control systems. I will bring it closer to the Bloodbearer while making the rest of the Kraktol fleet hold their positions."

"Good. How are the Kraktol crew feeling right now?"

"Answer: The Kraktol are currently experiencing 75% increases in epinephrine, relating to their fear and anger."

"Let me know when they've reached the two kilometer mark." The Terran says. "Have them hold position, and face the broadside of their ship toward me."

"Yes, Admiral."

...Two minutes pass.

The Terran Admiral eventually spots a tiny blinking light approaching from the distance. Amidst the fantastical brilliance of the Milky Way galaxy's hundred million stars, and unobstructed by any planet's atmosphere, José might not have noticed if he weren't intently searching for the Dragon's Breath already.

José's eyes shift slightly, zooming his vision in on the tiny speck. The double-bullet shape of the Dragon's Breath becomes much more visible, along with its symmetrical spiderweb of hallways connecting its two main hull-pieces. The ship grows in size until even an ordinary human could see it amongst the stars, before it slows to a halt and rotates to bare its underside to the Terran Admiral.

After cracking his neck, José smiles. "Great. I'll be going, then."

"Admiral," Umi says, as Jose takes several steps back to get a running start, "a shuttle would be far safer and much more reliable."

"Yeah," José says with a nod, "but it would be much more boring, too. A man has to let loose once in a while, don't you see?"

Without waiting for a reply, José coils a massive amount of power into his legs. Like a bolt of lightning, he rushes forward, sticks his foot through the oxygen-shield, and stomps off the side of the Bloodbearer's hull.

"HUP!"

Immediately, total silence swallows José Rodriguez. The human warrior exits the oxygen-shield and flies into the vacuum of space without a spacesuit or any specialized equipment, relying on his body to launch himself toward the awaiting Kraktol ship.

Moments later, José aims his hands behind himself. A strange "vibration" erupts from his palms, accelerating his speed by several factors. The human smiles giddily as the Dragon Breath's underside quickly expands in size.

The nine-foot-Terran rushes toward the Dragon's Breath at hundreds of kilometers an hour. With only two kilometers separating the Bloodbearer and the Dragon's Breath, it doesn't take José more than fifteen seconds to clear the gap at such a frightening speed.

Two seconds before impact, the Admiral's smile disappears.

[Activate the Dermal Carapace.]

The human's body shimmers, giving his skin a metallic sheen.

WHAM!

The metal-covered Terran crashes through the sturdy underside of the Dragon's Breath, tearing into its hull like a knife through tofu. The Terran Admiral rips through five feet of the Dragon Breath's exterior, only to frown.

I didn't make it all the way inside?

Oh well. Sometimes, you need a little elbow grease.

With a shrug, José glances at the mass of metal enveloping him; the remnants of a small section of the Dragon Breath's hull. He spreads his body out and shoves the metal aside, then begins ripping the exosteel apart with his bare fingers, creating a horrifying sight like a wasp burrowing into a rotted wood house.

Inside José's head, Umi's voice appears. [Admiral. You have one thousand, seven hundred and fourteen hours, fifty-four minutes, and sixteen seconds of oxygen retention available.]

[Oh, shush,] José chides the synthmind. [Warn me when it's actually getting low.]

[Very well. Also, I have received several alerts from the Dragon's Breath's synthmind. It has issued multiple warnings regarding your hull breach.]

[That's to be expected.]

The Admiral continues ripping through the steel blocking his path. Eventually, a blast of oxygen explodes against his face as he finally tears into the Dragon Breath's interior.

Multiple warnings blare in the hallways. The Dragon Breath's synthmind, different from Umi, speaks in an oddly-calm voice. "...detected. Prepare for combat. The Terran intruder is considered a Class [ONE] threat and must be destroyed at all costs."

José leaps inside the ship right as an emergency force-field activates, sealing up the hull breach behind him. The blackened void outside remains visible, but an oxygen-shield similar to the one on the Bloodbearer prevents the Kraktol flagship from losing any additional oxygen reserves.

The Admiral glances around the small room and quickly identifies it as a ten-by-ten foot utility closet, one filled with all manner of janitorial machines and cleaning agents. The bright-white walls and excellent lighting give it the appearance of a hospital, including the odd lemon-scents wafting in the air.

Without hesitation, the Terran strides toward the door, which hisses open automatically in front of him. As he steps outside, he spots three dozen heavily armed Kraktol standing in the fifteen-foot-wide corridor, all of them wearing spit-polished exosteel armor.

The Admiral nods appreciatively. Not bad. Hyperweave combat suits, the pinnacle of Third Era armor. And those guns, they look like outmoded versions of the LP-114 Carbines? I think I read about them in my history classes once or twi-

José doesn't get to finish his thought. Without warning, a hail of blaster fire erupts from the Kraktol commandos. They pepper the Terran with thousands of bullets, beams, and blasts, instantly shrouding his body with a thick layer of smoke.

Thanks to the bio-steel enveloping José's skin, he doesn't even feel the attacks. However, he immediately frowns.

How rude. They didn't even give me a chance to say hello. Still, I almost feel bad fighting these guys... like I'm picking on fresh cadets from the Federation's weakest military academy. No, even they would pose more of a threat than these crocodiles.

While the hail of gunfire explodes against José ceaselessly, the human rubs his chin.

Hm. Perhaps it's more like children throwing wads of paper? Like those rebel youth from Jedara, the ones who hated Ramma's Chosen. Yes, that's more like it. I have to be the bigger man, here. These grunts are only following orders, after all.

With a slow nod, José makes up his mind. He casually strolls forward, making the Kraktol nearly shit themselves.

"H-he's not going down! What do we do?!"

"Impossible! I didn't think anyone but the Thülvik could be this powerful!"

"Keep shooting! Aim for his weak points!"

"WHAT weak points?! You IDIOT!!"

A moment later, the two front-most Kraktol instinctively stop firing and dive to the sides, narrowly avoiding the Admiral's hands as he tries to slap the guns out of their claws.

José blinks in surprise. Oh? They're quicker than I expected. Even without biochips, the Kraktol have some Grade-A genetics.

One of José's eyes changes color. Normally, both appear brown, but for a split-second, his right-eye turns blue. Magnetic beams fire from his eye and envelop the weapons of three Kraktol commandos, making them yelp in surprise as their guns leap from their grasp and slam against the walls, held fast by the magnetism coursing through them.

"Ancient Rodaks!"

The commandos find themselves completely taken aback by this shocking shift in battle momentum. Before they can react, José lightly backhands two of them, striking them with enough force to cave any human's head in. The crocodiles fly to the left and right, crash against the corridor walls, and fall limply to the floor.

José sighs. He raises his eyes toward the remaining thirty-something commandos, all of them now staring at him with terror-stricken faces.

"...We can do this the easy way or the hard way. Take me to Commander Orgon, or join these guys on the floor. What will it be?"

The Kraktol's response turns out to be another barrage of blaster fire.

"We'll never give up, Terran!! Any ally of the Kessu is our enemy!!"

As another useless hailstorm pelts José's skin, the Terran shrugs. "Well, okay. Your choice."

...

Minutes later, José strolls out of the hallway, past a hill of unconscious Kraktol, all of them knocked out with backhanded-slaps.

"Sheesh," José grumbles. "I'm not even enjoying myself. It's as if I've stumbled into a home for crippled children, and now I'm beating them senseless. Umi, please direct me to wherever Commander Orgon is. Let's get this over with."

"Order received, Admiral. Please turn down the hallway to your right and proceed forward one hundred meters..."

Umi begins issuing José directions, one after the other, through the Dragon Breath's overhead speaker system. Multiple times, José encounters groups of Kraktol in the range of dozens to nearly 200 heavily armored commandos. Their weaponry and armor, at or near the peak of Third Era technology, never threaten him in the slightest. After blowing them away with melee attacks, José always presses onward within moments, continuing his relentless momentum without hesitation.

The Terran draws nearer to the Bridge. "Say, Umi? I have a question."

"I will attempt to answer, Admiral."

"You downloaded the historical files of the entire Kraktol fleet, yes? Tell me, is Third Era technology commonplace in the current era? Are the Kraktol only equipped with such outmoded relics? And what about the rest of the galaxy?"

Umi beeps neutrally. "Error. Your query is not immediately answerable. If you would like, I can gather and collate the relevant data. I will require forty-seven minutes and fourteen seconds to compile the results."

"Get back to me on that. I'm curious as to the battle strength of other species in relation to the Kraktol."

...

After thirty minutes of tearing through the Kraktol ship, including one particularly heated confrontation between himself and five squadrons of trained troopers who try to capture the Terran with metallic nets, José finally arrives at the ten-foot-wide sliding metal door to the Kraktol bridge. Before stepping inside, the Terran pauses.

"Umi?"

"Yes, Admiral."

"Disable the weapons of all the bridge officers."

Umi beeps in response. "Orders acknowledged. Admiral, why did you not request this action previously?"

"Well, I didn't want to demoralize the innocent crewman who had nothing to do with their commander's choices. The lower-ranks have no choice but to follow the leader's orders, or so it usually goes. As for the bridge-crew, well..."

José's eyes narrow.

"...the situation for them is very different. I think a bit of psychological warfare is called for at a time like this."

"I must admit that your logic does not fall neatly into my calculations, Admiral. However, I have completed your orders. The weapons of all the Kraktol bridge-crew are now non-functional."

"Great. Now, sit back and watch the show."

Admiral Rodriguez steps toward the giant door. It splits from the middle, opening into the ground and ceiling, allowing him an instant evaluation of the situation inside the Bridge. Fifty senior Kraktol officers level their weapons at the intruder while crouching behind chairs and boxes, trying to use anything they can for cover. Their eyes widen as they press the triggers on their weapons and nothing happens.

"...fire, I said!" Orgon the Unkillable barks. "Fire at once!"

"My weapon has jammed!" First Officer Megla shouts. "It won't shoot!"

"Mine as well," Tactical Officer Soren adds.

Multiple words of agreement go through the air, making every Bridge member lose the coloration in their scales. Only Orgon stands tall as he glances at the Terran and notices José's lack of weapons. "You. You did this."

José casually ambles forward, a faint smile on his face. He glances at the lower-ranked bridge-crew only once before turning his full attention on Orgon. "That's right. I did."

Orgon straightens his posture. "Tch. You must have used your synthmind's abilities. Very well! What do you want, then?! Why have you come here to personally wreak havoc, rather than sending a team of soldiers to face us?"

The Admiral's smile fades away.

"There are two answers to that question, Orgon. The first is that I would rather do this sort of thing myself. The second is..."

José pauses.

"...the second is that I have no other crew. I am, and always was, the only Terran aboard the Bloodbearer."

Orgon's scales shiver. "The only one? You, alone, command the Juggernaut?!"

"That's right. I hope you'll forgive me for this small deception, but I suppose that makes us even, doesn't it? A lie for a lie."

The Admiral slowly walks forward and stops only ten feet away from Orgon. His nine-foot stature serves to make the eight-and-a-half-foot Kraktol Commander look surprisingly small, despite his immense height among other Kraktol. In turn, it causes all of the other Kraktol bridge-crew to feel like ants before a boot.

José raises his hand, making the Kraktol commander flinch. However, he merely spreads out his index, middle, and ring fingers.

"Thrice. That is how many times I extended my goodwill and gave you a chance to turn our relationship in a positive direction. The first was during your initial arrival, when I warned you not to lie to me regarding the Kessu's vessel being theirs or yours. The second was when I told you to head home and leave the Kessu, and me, alone."

The Terran cocks his head. "And the third... the third came when I extended my invitation for a fair fight. It would be your last chance at redeeming yourselves, yet you chose to attack me on my arrival. I must say, you have performed quite poorly on the diplomatic front, Fleet Commander."

Orgon growls menacingly. "That's because you allied with the Kessu, our most hated enemies! Then you barged into our vessel and tore it apart! A killing machine like you can never know any peace!"

José awkwardly coughs into his fist. "Ahem. I suppose I could have come in through a hangar or something. Never mind that. Look, I will offer you a chance to turn all of this around. If you wish, I will let you choose your strongest warrior and have them engage me in melee combat. Out of consideration for your primitive weaponry, I will deactivate my protective bio-chips and fight them fairly. If I lose, I will give you my ship and leave in disgrace. If I win, I will kill you and send your fleet back to the Thülvik in disgrace. What do you think? Aren't these terms fair?"

Orgon blinks several times. His confusion mirrors that of his crew.

"...what? These terms... are you mocking me, Admiral?! What craziness are you spouting, now?!"

The Kraktol commander visibly balks at José's words.

He continues. "How could you so easily overpower our fleet, only to follow up with a ridiculous offer where we stand to win no matter the result?! Either we will obtain your legendary Precursor vessel, or everyone in my fleet except for myself will survive to live another day! Those terms are so wonderful that my scales have declared you a deceiver!"

The Terran shrugs. "I am feeling remarkably generous. Isn't that enough for you?"

Orgon shakes his head. "No. It is not! I demand an explanation! Are you suicidal? What winner in a battle would allow his opponent a significant chance of reversing their terrible misfortune?!"

Despite all of Orgon's crew now holding a chance at victory within their grasp, several key bridge-officers nod along with their Commander's words, disbelieving the Terran's offer.

José falls silent.

The Terran's thoughts turn inward, where he sighs to himself.

Perhaps Orgon is right. Why am I making such a generous offer? Am I, perhaps, feeling suicidal after losing my whole species?

Two seconds pass.

José shakes his head mentally. No. Maybe that has a small amount to do with it, but this is about sending a message. The 'rule of the strong' seems to rule the modern Milky Way and its politics. In the era I originated, such was not the case. I have to change such a barbaric system if I hope to restore order and give hope to species like the Kessu.

The Admiral stares resolutely at his Kraktol opponent.

That's right. Actions speak louder than words. The Kessu and the Kraktol have suffered tremendously to one another. Untangling their hatred will only happen if I show them what it means to be merciful.

Admiral Rodriguez clears his throat. "I have my reasons, Commander Orgon. From where I stand, you have doomed your crew to oblivion over a hatred extending back tens of generations, one which has little bearing on the modern Kraktol. I must punish you, specifically, for your unwarranted genocide against the Kessu, while teaching a lesson to those who follow in your wake."

"Unwarranted..." Orgon snorts. "More self-righteousness from the almighty Terran. What lesson will my crew learn, then, Admiral? What lesson shall you gift us from your unreachable plateau?"

José sweeps his eyes around the room, to the expectant Kraktol, who have emerged from behind their cover to watch the two commanders exchange words.

The Admiral answers. "When you rely on the rule of 'might makes right' to bully the weak, someone greater than you will eventually arrive to repay your evils in full. That is my role to serve. I am a warning, not only to those present, but to the leaders of your society. If you continue to trample on those weaker than you, I will turn you into an example for other tyrants."

Several minutes pass as José continues explaining himself, making the expressions of the Kraktol contort and twist endlessly.

When he finishes, the Bridge falls silent.

Commander Orgon stares, unblinking, at the Terran before him.

"...I see. Perhaps I underestimated you, Admiral. I assumed you were came here to toy with us. I believed you intended to massage your ego by trampling upon our heads, while allowing us a chance at leaving alive to make yourself feel like a righteous do-gooder."

Orgon lowers his gaze.

"It was I who was in error. Three times, you have extended a charitable claw toward us, and three times, we have bitten it in anger. I will not do so again."

José raises his eyebrows. "Oh? So you will stop pursuing the Kessu?"

Commander Orgon shakes his head.

"No. I cannot make that call. I am merely the Thülvik's servant; I carry out her will. So long as she desires the extermination of the Kessu, so shall I."

Orgon takes a step back. He crouches into a fighting stance and extends his talons.

"I will accept your challenge, Terran. Your win and loss conditions... are acceptable. When I die, please remember your promise to release my crew."

Admiral Rodriguez frowns. "You seem certain that you will fail."

"Of course! Unlike you, I am not someone blessed with such firm convictions. I exist only to serve, while you are clearly following a path you believe righteous. I can never release my hatred of the Kessu... and so, I will fight for the sake of my crew!"

"You may select your best combatant," José says. "It is not you who must battle me."

"Bah! Come now, Terran! For my species, only the strong may lead! Look around you! None of the Kraktol aboard this vessel can match my prowess in battle. That is my way, the way of the Thülvik!"

Seeing the conviction in his opponent's eyes, José nods. He releases the metallic dermal plating from his body, lowering his defenses to the minimum. Likewise, Orgon sheds his Hyperweave combat armor, relying purely on his scales for protection.

"You should keep that armor on," José says. "Even without my bio-chips for protection, you will not be my equal."

Commander Orgon doesn't flinch. "Hmph. If you will fight without protection, then so shall I!"

"Alright. Suit yourself."

José crouches into a combat stance. He extends both of his hands in a jiu-jitsu-like pose, one modified over countless eons by humanity's mightiest warriors, and smiles.

"It's too bad, Orgon. In another life, we might have been comrades."

Orgon nods.

"In another life."