Inside the Bloodbearer's Executive Lounge, a large circular table with a holographic emitter in its middle rests in the center of the room. Many luxurious food and beverage amenities line the walls, along with potted plants taken from Tarus II's ecosystem, the original plants that decorated the room having long-since perished to the annals of time.

Admiral Rodriguez and his First Officer, Soren Mudrose, sit next to each other at the perimeter of the giant table, their tiny figures completely dwarfed by its size.

Within minutes, the room's entrance opens, allowing several figures to stream inside.

Lorrie, Lele's aunt and the former Kessu leader from thousands of years earlier, steps through first.

Patriarch Nyoor and Matriarch Baaru, the latter of whom has become the Bloodbearer's Chief Disciplinary Officer in charge of reprimanding rulebreakers and troublemakers among the crew, both follow up.

The newly promoted Second Officer, Grundle Skycrusher, trails behind his Admiral, a deep respect for his superior etched into his bones.

Chief Strategy Officer Sapphire Brighteye, in charge of planet and ship-based combat operations. Sparkles appear in her eyes as she lasers her gaze onto the Admiral.

And finally, the Chief Training Officer in charge of training personnel in Terran-type combat-styles, Big Ruuki. He trails in sheepishly while the door closes behind him.

As these officers enter the room, one of them seems particularly excitable compared to his past self.

"Ehehe! Mraww, I haven't had a chance to thank you yet, Great Precursor!" Patriarch Nyoor meows. No longer does he use a walking stick to help amble along, and even his movements appear much more fluid than before. "I've gotten some spring back in my paws!"

Seeing that the operation to extend Nyoor's life was successful, José breathes a sigh of relief. "I am glad to hear that, Patriarch Nyoor. Why don't you and Baaru come over here and take a seat?"

José starts to motion toward the seats next to himself, but before he can finish, a blue blur rushes over to his side, and Sapphire plops down beside him.

"Oh, Darling! I've missed you terribly!"

The Admiral flinches in surprise, but merely sighs. He continues gesturing to the chairs on Sapphire's left while shaking his head wryly. "...As I was saying, you two can plop down right there."

The group of newcomers all take up seats around the table, with some of them sitting on the far side, while others crowd a bit closer to the Admiral.

After everyone settles down, José glances at Sapphire's expectant, loving gaze, and groans.

"Alright, everyone. I've brought you all here today to discuss strategies for our arrival in Mallali space. We're still a couple of years out from exiting Inverted Space, but in the meantime, it can't hurt to ensure we've reviewed our goals moving forward."

The Admiral gestures toward a Kessu seated several positions away. "The vast majority of our information comes from Miss Lorrie, here. I've also procured some information from the Kraktol guests to fill in the blanks, but even so, my available intel on the Core World leaders is a bit... vacuous."

Lorrie meows politely. "Mraww. Yes, Admiral. Your goal, to warn the Mallali about the Buzor and have them develop a counter-strategy... well, I hesitate to say this, but after some thought, I don't believe you will succeed."

José taps a button attached to the table, activating its imaging matrix. Several holographic figures appear overhead, representing some of the leaders among the Core worlds. Along with a bipedal dog, rat, and other similar creatures, there even stands a bull and a moose.

"In what way?" José asks, gesturing to the holograms. "Looking at all these disparate species, they still share many features in common, chief being that they're mostly all Mallali. If they learn that the Buzor plan to attack them from the shadows, surely they will unite to set up a counter-defense, just in case. That choice requires little thought. Only an absolute idiot would ignore rock-solid evidence like what we'll soon bring them."

Lorrie shakes her head. "Not stupidity, Admiral. I would hesitate to call any of the Mallali leaders idiots. All of them are cunning politicians and savvy back-stabbers. The ones who sold the Kessu off to the Buzor have long since died or retired, but their progeny do not fall far from the tree."

She continues. "I have never met the current Mallali leaders. All of these images, taken from my memories, were obtained secondhand from recordings and database entries I picked up during my time working for the Buzor. They gave me access to intel considered low-level and unimportant, allowing me to get a general idea of the galaxy's shifting power structure. Take this fellow here, for instance."

Lorrie gestures toward the current Dakkit leader, a white-furred dog-like Sentient with black splotches on his eyes and body. His appearance resembles an obese, slovenly Beagle.

"Benjiro, the Alfras of the Dakkit. I haven't spoken to him or seen him in person, but every piece of intel I've obtained indicates he's a self-serving fellow who cares only about himself. If you bring evidence to him that the Buzor are going to attack the Core, he either won't believe you, or won't care."

José frowns. "Are you sure? He would have to be monumentally stupid to ignore such a threat."

"Again, not stupid, but lazy." Lorrie replies. "The Buzor know all about him and his weaknesses. They have greased his paws many times with benefits and tributes. He believes them to be harmless primitives, incapable of space-travel and unable to threaten his rule. So long as he continues to live in the lap of luxury, Benjiro will never bother worrying about the Buzor."

Sapphire raises her voice. "Kyargh! My father once spoke to Benjiro. He acted quite threateningly and warned us away from ever invading Mallali space."

"Yes, because he sees the Kraktol as a minor threat, one which he must snuff out before you get any wild ideas. However, he doesn't know about the Rylon Shipyards, and thus, doesn't consider you much more than an Outer Rim nuisance," Lorrie replies. With most of the Kessu and Kraktol crew having integrated together, news of the Kraktol's secret ship-construction facilities have long since spread around the Bloodbearer's halls, making Lorrie's words wholly uncontroversial.

Baaru raises her paw. "Mraww. If this Benjiro fellow is so obviously corrupt, then why not try to rally the other Mallali leaders? Surely, there must be one or two Sentients capable of reason."

Lorrie points at the figure of a tall and slender gecko-like biped with green skin and bulbous eyes.

"That's the problem," Lorrie says, her tone gloomy. "Look at the different Sentient leaders. Leevoo the Observant, the Gelkor Merchant Queen, has long since established herself as the premier seller of goods in the Core. If a war occurs, she'll simply profit by selling weapons to both sides."

The Kessu scientist points at another image, this time of a humongous pig, his fat belly expanded beyond even Benjiro's gut.

"Hogg, the leader of the Gippen. He runs the casinos and other profitable markets outside of Leevoo's control. If a war occurs, he too will make a fat profit. They might not possess any military might, but they're both opportunists who would love to tear apart the galaxy for a quick buck. They possess plenty of pull in the Senate."

Admiral Rodriguez's appearance becomes unsightly. "Are you telling me that when we arrive, these lazy fools will simply ignore my warnings?"

"To be honest, I don't know," Lorrie says, shaking her head. "If I had to wager credits, I'd say you won't accomplish a thing. However, you do possess a certain legitimacy in your claims that might sway the more open-minded. The Bloodbearer itself, for example. You are the only Sentient in the entire galaxy with a 50th Era vessel, let alone all of your interceptors and shuttlecraft. Hearing a dire warning from you might open the eyes of the ignorant runts playing king and queen."

"I'm not flying the Bloodbearer anywhere near a Mallali world," José says. "I dare not risk bringing that level of attention to my crew. Even if the Mallali have already heard about my vessel, I won't present it as an offering to them. I'll park the Bloodbearer out of sight behind some remote asteroid, where a casual scan won't pick it up on any long-range sensors, and then I'll travel to Enchillon via the Slipstream."

"If you don't go to the Core in an official capacity, you won't wield any significant clout," Lorrie warns. "Your goal is to rally the Core against the Buzor, and especially the demons. Every bit of influence you accrue will help you achieve your goal. Trust me, I've played the political game for most of my adult life."

José waves Lorrie's concerns away. "Don't worry. I have my ways. If push comes to shove, I can always put the fear of the Precursors in them. They won't take me lightly after that."

Lorrie frowns. "Intimidation? Are you going to threaten the Mallai? The Dakkit?"

"I'll make them an offer they can't refuse," José jokes, while leaning back in his chair. "Come on, don't give me that look. I can be persuasive."

"Undoubtedly..." Lorrie mutters. "It's just... do you have a backup plan? If you fail to convince the Mallali of your plan's veracity, your ambitions will fall flat. The Bloodbearer is an incredible weapon assault platform capable of projecting firepower across an entire star system. Even so, it's only one vessel. You can't defeat the Buzor with it alone."

"Kyargh! Why not seek help from other sources?" Sapphire asks. "We Kraktol are not the only Rodaks out there! What of the Trellut or the Groff? They possess decent fleets, suitable for at least assisting the Bloodbearer. Darling, don't you only want to kill Yama? After you finish with him, you won't care about the galaxy's situation. You just need to make some quick friends, not forge permanent alliances."

José strokes his beard thoughtfully. "The Kraktol only possess Third Era ships, though. If the other Rodaks aren't any better, I doubt they'll be much help."

Sapphire blinks in surprise. "Huh? You don't know? Kyargh! The Kraktol possess plenty of ships beyond the Third Era. We even possess a Tenth Era vessel! It's just... well, we keep them near the homeworld, Dragua. They mostly exist to protect the Thülvik."

Soren nods. "Similarly, Admiral, the Trellut are a hardy species with ships that specialize in defense. They possess a 15th Era Juggernaut-Class ship, similar to the Bloodbearer, but focused on ship-to-ship combat, rather than planetary assault. It's a mobile fortress, smaller than the Bloodbearer, but suitable for defending worlds or attacking heavily fortified embattlements."

The Bloodbearer's First Officer gestures toward the holograms in the center of the table, pointing at a giant turtle-looking biped, one with a huge shell on their back.

"While most consider the Trellut to be slow-witted and dull, Turbo Baryon leads his people with quite a unique perspective. In the past, he won many racing tournaments on the Core Worlds, owing to his quick reflexes and iron-like will. He retired a few centuries ago, but even so, I think his flexible thinking could provide us with the help we need. He might be amenable to our cause."

"I'll elaborate on my plan, then," José says. "When I arrive, I intend to slip inside the Mallali HQ alone. The rest of you won't be able to follow after me. I'll scare the Mallali senseless, revealing to them my ability to evade their defenses. By using myself as an example, I plan to show them that the power they've amassed in the Core won't protect them as handily as they imagine."

Soren and Sapphire's jaws both drop in unison.

"No, way, Darling!" Sapphire cries. "That's far too dangerous! If you slip up, the Mallali will kill you!"

"I agree!" Soren adds. "The Mallali enforcers are all heavily armed and adorn themselves in high-level defensive implements. If you fail to infiltrate the Mallali power structure, you'll end up blasted to kingdom come and will fail at the starting line. Even if you make it all the way inside, the leaders will likely call down the enforcers on you. I cannot condone such a risky mission. We should meet them openly and use your position as a Precursor to increase your legitimacy."

"That isn't necessarily a good idea," Lorrie argues. "You forget. The Precursors have long since died off. There are countless minor species spread throughout the Milky Way. Even if the Admiral claims himself to be a Precursor, that will only cause people to doubt his identity. After all, what really are the odds one lone Precursor would survive for a hundred million years? He might be some random Mallali half-breed pretending to be a Precursor purely for the fame."

She continues. "Further, even if the Mallali believe him... do you trust the Mallali? They would love nothing more than to capture the Admiral and turn him into a test subject. Think of all the information and data they could extract simply regarding biomods. If the Admiral goes there and announces his identity to the galaxy, he'll call down a storm upon himself far worse than what we wish to bring upon the Buzor."

The room falls silent. Sensing the tension in the air, many people lower their eyes to fall deep into thought.

The Admiral's biggest goal, to slay Yama, means they must entangle themselves with the Buzor. But, to do so, they will need far more firepower than merely the Bloodbearer can provide. They will need an intelligence network to hunt for Yama's position among the Buzor's worlds.

Additionally, José's identity as the Precursor comes with countless benefits, but also many pitfalls. To those seated inside the Executive Lounge, it seems more and more that this mission will not end simply, but instead be fraught with danger and peril.

Especially for the Admiral himself.

...

José strokes his chin several times. He shakes his head and mumbles words under his breath, yet still fails to come up with a perfect solution.

"I have to do this my way," José concludes. "You're right, in that the Mallali will want to turn me into their little test tube baby. However, that concept will come from their greed. To balance out that greed, I need to strike the fear of God into them. I need to show them that I am not a predator they can afford to piss off, one with means far beyond their imagination."

Lorrie's expression turns ugly. "Your method is both crude and brutish. If you do burn your image into the Mallali leader's eyes, how can you possibly get them to help you? You won't be able to trust them. The moment you leave their sight, they will see you as a threat; one they must eliminate."

"I've lived a long time," José says, his tone ominous. "I've fought in many wars. I've battled on the frontlines and killed in the shadows. I've slaughtered monsters more horrifying than any nightmare you've ever suffered. I've slain kings and torn leaders off their thrones with my bare hands. If there is one thing I don't fear, it's a fight to the death. I don't even fear Yama himself, but rather, that I won't be able to find the little shadow-skulker."

José continues. "Fear is a weapon I've grown used to using. Nobody here has really seen me at my worst. You know me as a relatively nice man, amiable and polite. But if someone deliberately gets in my way or threatens my people... I will make them regret their day of birth."

The Admiral casually raises his hand, holding his palm upward in front of his chest. "The Mallali leaders, according to everything I've learned, are old and corrupt. They're pathetic little pissants who rely on coercion and intimidation to rule with an iron fist. Thugs who use such tactics are nothing before a seasoned Terran warrior, let alone me. There is only one way to treat vermin, and that is to stomp on their tails so that they panic. Once you've broken their mind and called their bluff, they will have no choice but to accede to your demands."

"Lorrie," José says, glancing at the Kessu. "You say that the Mallali leaders will call their mightiest enforcers to rain devastation upon me. But so what? Even if their weapons stood at the top of the 50th Era's firepower, which they don't, I would not fear them. Yama killed me once because I fought him unprepared. I will not repeat that mistake. I won't fall into any feeble trap thrown at me by the crippled old farts of this era, while they will collapse before me like paper dominos before a flood. The way I see it, I only have one method to deal with them, but it happens to be the one I'm most adept at using."

José folds his hands in his lap.

"The Mallali wronged your species, Lorrie. Consider my actions a form of... recompense. Karma, if you will. You have long since paid the price for your ancient crimes, but the Dakkit have yet to suffer for theirs. I am the judgment the Creator has sent, and I shall act as such."

The Admiral falls silent, causing a vague heaviness to fill the air.

Across from José, Lele's father, Ruuki, clears his throat.

"Mraww... I hope you won't go too far, Great Precursor. We don't want to lose you a second time."

José smiles. "Don't worry. I won't put myself in any unnecessary danger. I still have so much to live for, after all."

...

Not long afterward, the meeting concludes and several people file out. However, a few stick behind, consisting of Soren, Sapphire, and Lorrie.

"Err, if you don't mind my asking," Lorrie says, "what are you planning to do afterward, Admiral? After slaying Yama, I mean? Assuming you finish your goal, do you have any other plans?"

José folds his hands atop the table. "I do. Let's just say... this era doesn't suit me."

"I beg your pardon?" Lorrie asks.

The Admiral doesn't immediately elaborate. However, when Sapphire leans around to look at him with her sparkling eyes, he relents.

"Erm... cough! I uh... I need to find a certain... thing. An object. Similar to what the Buzor hid under Tarus II's surface."

"A Warpgate?" Soren asks.

"Yes, sort of..." José answers evasively. "It's not quite the same, though. I need to find... a Rip-Gate."

Lorrie's ears immediately perk up. "A Rip-Gate? What's that?"

"It sounds like a Warp-Gate, or a Jump-Gate..." Soren mutters.

"That's right," José says. "Warp-Gates are planet-bound teleportation gates. You can travel from one gate to another, provided you can calculate the spatial coordinates for both. Jump-Gates, on the other hand, are humongous spaceship-centric gates capable of connecting two distant points in space to one another. By entering one gate, you can instantly travel to the other one no matter the distance. Even crossing galaxies can occur instantaneously."

The Admiral pauses for a moment, as if to deliberate whether he should say anything else. Sighing, he continues.

"Rip-Gates... well, to understand a Rip-Gate, you first have to understand Ripspace."

Seeing none of the women present speak up to interrupt him, José continues.

"Long ago, at an unknown point in time, a 'quantum event' occurred. This event was catastrophic in its effects on space-time. It created a phenomenon we naively referred to as 'parallel worlds' or 'alternate timelines.' Simply put, an unknown entity traveled back in time, and their actions caused the formerly stable time-space continuum to split apart once, twice, and then a million times. The instant they traveled backward, they created all the other timelines at once, forming what humanity later termed 'Ripspace.'"

José pauses to take a breath, then continues.

At any point, at any position in the universe, a rip can occur in space, exposing our universe to the effects of another. 99.999% of the time, this doesn't affect our reality in the slightest, but sometimes it does. Sometimes, a minuscule tear can occur inside a star, instantly sucking it and its energy out of existence, likely into the other universe."

José motions with his hands to manipulate the holographic emitter. He summons a thousand tiny bubbles into existence above the table, then randomly colors one of them green.

"Pretend for a moment that green bubble is our universe. These bubbles all represent other realities, other times, and other universes. They slowly move around, sometimes drawn to each other, and sometimes repelling each other. When they nudge each other, tears can occur in reality, opening up a gap through Ripspace. As you might imagine... sometimes, we can even traverse the gaps, allowing us to visit other realities."

All of the blood drains from Soren's scales, leaving her looking pale and malnourished. "N-no way. Traveling between universes... that isn't possible. I can't even wrap my head around the concept."

Lorrie, however, appears less confused. "Hmm. I once theorized there might be other realities outside our own, but I had no way to confirm my hypothesis."

"They do exist," José nods. "However, navigating them is 99% luck. You see, Rip-Gates are a very special existence that once allowed my people, Ramma's Chosen, to forcibly open tears in reality. We could then enter Ripspace and use it to travel between universes. In this way, we managed to plunder endless resources from other galaxies, empowering our faction well beyond what our small size might normally obtain. As far as I know, we were the only faction who even possessed a Ripgate, though there was no way to perfectly confirm that theory. Leaks were always possible, after all."

He continues. "Theoretically, Ripspace isn't merely a method for traveling between two separate universes. One can also use it to travel through time."

Lorrie stares at José intently. "You intend to go back in time? A hundred million years?"

José shrugs. "Maybe. But then again, it probably isn't possible. Traveling across realities is functionally different from bending spacetime within your own universe. I don't actually know if I can pull it off."

Sapphire's luster fades significantly. "You're... you're going to leave us, Darling?"

"Ideally, yes," José says, his tone firm. "I'm sorry. You have all been great friends. I cherish our time together. However, I don't belong in this universe. I don't belong here, one hundred million years after the extinction of my people. The longer I stay, the greater my sense of unease."

José sweeps his arms around the room. "If I depart successfully, I'll leave the Bloodbearer to you. All of you. You may use it how you see fit, perhaps as a new home for the Kessu. I hope that, when the time comes, you won't use it as a weapon of war, but as a herald of peace. I might use it to scare the Mallali a little, but in the end, I do hope the era of never-ending bloodshed stays in the distant past. Perhaps the Bloodbearer's presence in the galaxy will warn the Sentients away from using weapons of mass destruction. Perhaps they may even realize they should set aside their differences to seek a better future."

The Admiral sighs.

"My people killed ourselves. We exterminated our own species, likely through greed or an urge to conquer. I pray the Sentients of this Era won't repeat our mistake."

Soren narrows her eyes. "But what if your people didn't die because of their own hubris, Admiral? What if they died because of... an external force?"

The First Officer's words linger in the air, almost like a veiled threat.

What about Monolith?

However, having agreed to keep that matter private, José doesn't give give a name to the secret lurking within her words.

"Well, if that is the case, then I pray you will all be able to endure whatever befalls you."

Lorrie lowers her eyes.

"Indeed."