Admiral Rodriguez tears through the troop transport ships like a child opening a Christmas present. With his newfound psionic powers, he peels their armor apart and slaughters everyone inside by the tens and dozens. Countless horrified screams fall silent as the Mallali and Kraktol inside get a single quick look at the Terran grim reaper, then explode into chunks of flesh and bone.

José's psionic abilities, greatly enhanced by his Kolvaxian body and its strengthened parameters, allow him to send waves of energy in any direction, detect hostile signs of life, and blow apart those who've done his friends and comrades harm.

He tears into one of the transport vessels with his bare hands, swivels his eyes toward a Dakkit soldier huddled in a corner, and glares at him.

"You... you killed thirteen."

The Dakkit soldier feels a probing sensation brush against his mind as the Terran invasively scans his thoughts. An instant later, the soldier's skull explodes, spraying two nearby comrades with his cerebral fluids, both of whom shriek and fall to their knees.

"S-spare us! Please! We're innocent!!"

José examines them as well.

"You. Ten. And you. Three."

Their heads explode, followed by the rest of their bodies.

The more brains José scans, the faster he works, simultaneously more efficiently, yet also more cruelly. With none of his enemies having blood-free paws and claws, he pays less and less attention, barely giving them a perfunctory overview.

After slaying more than six thousand troopers in less than three minutes, José reaches one of the last ships, filled with newly arrived Dakkit and Kraktol who showed up to fight him specifically.

He pauses for half a breath as he sweeps his gaze over them.

"You. Zero. And you. Zero."

The soldiers, expecting equally horrifying deaths, close their eyes and press themselves up against the walls. They shiver and tremble, only for several seconds to pass while the Terran does nothing.

Hesitantly, they open their eyes, shocked to see José nowhere in sight. Both frightened and puzzled, they slowly turn their heads from side to side, looking for him.

At that moment, all of the lights in their ship's cabin go dark. The vessel shudders and crashes to the Bloodbearer's deck, sending its occupants tumbling to their knees. All of its doors lock up, sealing its passengers inside.

"Stay a while..." José growls. "I'll make use of you later."

The Terran locks up two more vessels this way, trapping seven hundred Dakkit and Kraktol inside lightless, inescapable coffins. Many of them grow more frightened at the fact the Terran hasn't killed them, for they already know the truth... their suffering has scarcely begun.

Once José wipes out all of the enemies in the Bloodbearer's hangar bay, he levitates over to Soren, stopping abruptly before her. A momentary look of fear appears in his First Officer's eyes as she holds her breath.

"J...José?"

Her Admiral lightly flicks a finger, shattering all of her chains.

"I'm not in a talking mood."

She nods. "Oh... okay. Yes. I... me neither."

Without another word, José flies straight upward, arriving at the hangar's ceiling. The Admiral pauses for a moment, staring blankly at the devastation before him.

"So much pain. So much suffering. And yet... I still don't feel any less angry. It's not enough."

Bloodlust flares in his eyes as his gaze falls upon Sapphire's remains, her beautiful blue scales spread out across the bottom of the Slipstream's ramp. He recalls all those times she looked at him with loving, adoring eyes.

He was the one she loved most.

But he never reciprocated her feelings.

And in the end... she perished because he was too weak to protect her.

"IT'S NOT NEARLY ENOOOOUGH!"

José closes his eyes. He projects his consciousness outward like a bubble, spreading it across the entirety of the Bloodbearer's interior. Within seconds, he picks up every single Dakkit, Kraktol, and Avaru's brain signal, no matter where they've taken up refuge. Some of them hide in trash bins, while others seek shelter under tables, or even inside the confines of Titan battlesuits, if they're clever enough.

With all their transport vessels broken, they know escape won't be possible. They know they won't be able to fight the Terran, having seen his strength through shared transmissions from deceased frontline troops.

All they can do is hunker down and pray.

But... even that won't save them.

As José's consciousness touches the minds of all his enemies, he senses their terror. He momentarily delights in their shaking bodies and trembling souls.

"Do you feel fear? Good. That's how the Kessu felt. That's how my FRIENDS felt!"

With a single command, the Admiral bursts the bodies and brains of all his living enemies, spraying them across the Bloodbearer's walls and floors like a fresh coat of paint. Only a few scattered souls survive, though for what reasons, they cannot fathom.

After wiping out practically every hostile signature on the Bloodbearer, the Admiral flicks his gaze toward the hangar's oxygen shield, and the vacuum of space outside.

"There are still... so many more left to kill."

.......................................

Aboard the bridge of the White Death, a 43rd-Era Dreadnought in service to the Dakkit Empire.

"We've lost contact with our troops!" A Dakkit officer shouts. "There's a bubble of interference blocking our contact with the Bloodbearer! All we can confirm is that the Terran has killed Loreen Kindris and several of our soldiers!"

His commanding officer barks in disapproval. "That's not good enough! Borf! Switch our transmitters to high-power, narrow-beam. Get me a contact inside that ship! I want eyes and ears, now!"

Dozens of senior crewmembers rush about the Bridge, looks of alarm on their faces. However, having only seen the beginning of the Terran's rampage before abruptly losing contact with their troopers, they don't yet know the full extent of their losses or the Terran's abilities.

Ferund Carrus, secretary to the Alfras himself, strides up to the White Death's commander, Admiral Rufus.

"Admiral. The Alfras is growing impatient. He wants an update on the situation."

"I'm sure he goddamn does!" Rufus barks, showing a surprising amount of disrespect for his direct superior. "We all do! If only it were that easy. Tell him I'm working on it!"

Ferund frowns. "Sir Benjiro will not like your tone-"

"Get off my bridge!" Rufus barks, spraying a fine amount of spittle directly into Ferund's face. "I don't have time for your crap!"

The Alfras's secretary daintily wipes at his fur, then takes a step back. "Very well, Admiral. Carry on."

And so, Rufus does. He pays no more attention to the prissy-looking secretary, opting instead to march over to a nearby communication terminal.

"Well? Status update!" Rufus barks at the officer crewing the station.

"Admiral! I've just picked up a faint transmission from the Bloodbearer's interior. Best I can tell, it appears to be a coded signal for a full evacuation. The transmission is hazy, but I believe it originated from one of our transport ships."

"An evacuation signal?" Rufus asks, his annoyance and anger momentarily fading. A strange look passes across his face. "Why would our troops evacuate? Isn't there only one enemy? Don't tell me the Terran somehow unlocked the Bloodbearer's internal defenses... our saboteur said he destroyed them all!"

The communications officer chuckles nervously. "W-well, you know what they say about trusting a Kessu, sir..."

"Borf! Indeed, I do. Can you establish contact with the ship that sent that signal?"

"Negative. The signal shut off after only twelve seconds."

Rufus pauses for several breaths. He thoughtfully scratches his chin, as if considering a litany of possibilities.

"Pull up the last recorded video of the Precursor."

"Right away, sir."

He turns his attention to the Bridge's main viewscreen, along with the other members of his crew. They wince as the grainy image of the Precursor leaping into the air and killing Loreen Kindris plays out before them.

"Has anyone figured out what the Precursor did to kill the Thülvik?" Rufus asks. "It looks as if he just... waved his hands... and she exploded. I've never seen such a thing."

Rufus scans the room, but all he finds are shaking heads and similar looks of confusion.

Meanwhile, Ferund Carrus watches from the Bridge's entryway, keeping out of the fray. He follows Rufus's movements with narrowed eyes.

The Admiral seems spooked. Since he picked up an evacuation order from the Bloodbearer, the situation inside must have deteriorated. I'll report this to the Alfras.

Ferund leaves, while the rest of the White Death's crew continue their work.

A few minutes later, the communications officer raises his head.

"Arf! Admiral! The interference field around the Bloodbearer has disappeared!"

Rufus rushes to his officer's side. "Excellent! Establish contact with our troops at once!"

A momentary silence follows. The communications officer frowns as he presses several buttons.

"Field Officer Markov... no response. Field Officer Ridel... no response."

Finally, the communication's officer glances at his Admiral.

"S-sir. All... all our transmission requests are coming up blank. Nobody's responding. I can still detect a few hundred bio-signs from our troops, but as for the rest... they're dead."

"What? Dead?" Rufus asks, his fur standing on end. "But... it hasn't been ten minutes. You must have faulty readings. Is something still interfering with our sensors?"

Before the communications officer can answer, a different crewmember speaks.

"Sir. We're detecting an unknown entity exiting the Bloodbearer's hangar bay."

"Is it a ship?" Rufus asks, looking toward the other officer. "The Terran's stealth-craft?"

"No, sir. It's too small to be a ship. It's... it's a body. It's the Terran!"

Several crewmembers look at each other in confusion.

"He's spaced himself?" Rufus asks, looking for confirmation.

"No, sir. The Terran appears alive and well. He's... he's flying, sir! He's not wearing a space-suit, but he's clearly controlling- by the Alfras's name!"

An alarm blares aboard the White Death as a Priority One message displays on the Bridge's viewscreen. An outline of the entire Mallali fleet appears, with more than eight thousand green triangles arrayed in a circle pointing toward one central position; the Bloodbearer.

Abruptly, two of those green triangles turn red.

"We've lost contact with the DMS Blueshift and the DMS Redshift!" An officer says. "The ships... they're destroyed!"

Suddenly, three more triangles turn red.

"Contact lost with the DMS Solaria, the YNN Killjoy, and the YNN-"

Before the officer can speak again, four more triangles turn red.

"What is going on?!" Rufus roars.

"Th-the Terran! He's shredding our fleet!" Someone answers. "It must be him! We don't know how he's doing it!"

"Open fire!" Rufus barks. "Blast him with everything we've got! Take no quarter!"

All at once, the wall of green triangles releases dots toward a tiny, pixel-sized speck near the northern section of the fleet, where the destroyed ships sit. These dots converge toward that point and disappear, as missiles, lasers, and ballistic ordinance strike their target.

Despite the assurance that not one single entity could survive an attack from thousands of warships, Rufus's fur continues to stand on end.

"Report! Have we eliminated the Terran?"

"We're scanning the area, Admiral. There's too much interference from detonated ordinance and debris in the area. It will take us a moment-"

Before the officer can finish, another alarm blares, just in time for seven more triangles to turn red on the fleet screen. Hardly a second passes before five more join them, and then five more!

"He's still alive! We're losing ships, fast!"

Rufus's eyes flick back and forth as he frantically tries to understand what's happening.

"I-is the Terran using some... some kind of superweapon? How is he doing this?!"

"Sir! We just lost a 35th-Era Capitol-Class Vindicator! Whatever weapon he's using, it can pierce through anything, even our hardiest vessels! We're at risk! The Alfras is at risk!"

Rufus sucks in a quick breath. His two seconds of indecision cost the fleet another twenty ships.

"Damn. Damn! Order a full retreat! Pull all assets back! We'll regroup at Enchillon!"

"Sir! I've lost contact with more than a thousand ships! The interference bubble has reappeared!"

Rufus shakes his head. "They're lost, then! Get us out of here!"

"Yes, sir!"

The White Death's hyperdrive ignites, along with thousands of other Dakkit, Avaru, and Kraktol vessels. A minute later, they zip away, fleeing the Veter system with their tails tucked between their legs.

.......................................

Admiral Rodriguez wraps his consciousness around a thousand enemy ships. He slaughters their crew wholesale, turning their bodies into bone shrapnel and painting the interiors of their ships crimson.

He hovers in the vacuum of space, caring little for its harsh environment. His Kolvaxian body easily adapts to the change in pressure, causing him no discomfort. Even without Kolvaxian DNA, the Admiral could survive in the vacuum of space for far longer than any other sentient, thanks in part to his Dermal Armor, vigorous body, and decades of training.

The Admiral pays no attention to the fleeing ships. He watches their engines ignite as they flee for their lives, yet only gives them a momentary glance before returning to his annihilation of the poor sods left behind.

Kill. Kill. Kill.

The Admiral teleports inside one of his captured vessels. He finds himself standing amidst a room of screaming Avaru, the giant birds squawking in fright as they gaze at the intruder in their midst with looks of horror.

The Terran reaches out his hand. He grasps at the air, yanking one of the Avaru toward himself. The male struggles to escape, yet ends up frozen in the air, suspended as if by magic.

"You have some use to me." José says. "Let me pick your brain."

A psionic link establishes between the Admiral and his prey. He violently extracts every piece of the raven-like Avaru's memories, then slices away all of the extraneous information before taking the things he wants.

"This will do." José says. "You may die now."

An instant later, every Avaru on the Bridge explodes, coating the interior with thick, viscous plasma. José pauses for a moment to examine the commander's memories.

"Fleet positions. Patrol movements. Standard procedures. Emergency procedures. Ah, here we go. Control codes. Command backups."

While José scans his newly acquired memories, a sliver of his consciousness continues its bloody work, casually traveling between the many other trapped vessels, and slaughtering their crew. Whenever he finds a commanding officer, he momentarily pauses his slaughter to rip out their memories for himself. Then, he kills them too.

After a full hour, José finishes slaying every last hostile in Veter's airspace. Dozens of ships lay broken, having imploded in on themselves. However, the biggest ships, the juiciest and most formidable prizes, remain spaceworthy.

The Admiral pays them little attention. He rapidly rigs together a series of auto-commands to keep them in stationary orbit before casting the useless wrecks into Veter's atmosphere. He aims for unpopulated areas, since it was not Veter's citizens who attacked his people.

Eventually, the Admiral falls silent. He levitates in the blackness of space, gazing at the Bloodbearer, now covered in pockmarks, ripped-up plating, and scorch marks. His beloved vessel, once a home for himself and his friends, now appears no better than a trash heap. Countless scars dot the vessel's surface. Its many weapons appear broken and shattered, incapable of protecting the ship from enemies.

José stares at the ship for a full minute before levitating forward and flying back into the hangar. He pauses once inside and sweeps his gaze across the countless dead bodies littering the hangar. Reluctantly, he walks toward a pile of furry bodies.

He gazes stoically at the dead Kessu heaped upon each other, their multi-colored fur the only thing that distinguishes one from the other. All of their eyes stare ahead in horror, locked open after death.

"I'm... sorry." José whispers. "I failed you."

Moments later, Umi speaks to José from above.

"Admiral Rodriguez. First Officer Mudrose has asked me to relay a message to you upon your return."

José continues to stare at the dead Kessu for a few seconds before wearily blinking his eyes.

"What is it?"

Umi beeps.

"Second Officer Grundle is still alive."

With a single sentence, Umi sends a jolt of lightning through José's heart.

"What? He is?!"

"Affirmative. While he has suffered multiple traumatic injuries, the nanites in his blood managed to staunch his bleeding and keep him in a vegetative, comatose state. First Officer Mudrose has rushed him to the nearest medical bay-"

Umi doesn't get to finish her sentence. José sends a pulse of his awareness toward the front of the ship, where he detects Soren's brainwaves. An instant later, José teleports forward, traveling half a kilometer across the Bloodbearer and arriving inside the medical center, where Soren frantically tries to put Grundle's top and bottom halves back together. She jumps slightly upon José's arrival, yet otherwise maintains her concentration.

"J-José, I need help!" Soren says. "I'm not a doctor. We need to re-engage the Bloodbearer's holo-crew. Can you tend to Grundle's wounds while I search for the sabotaged control panels?"

The Admiral nods. "I'll do what I can."

Soren nods. She pushes past him, but pauses for a split-second before leaving the room.

"I know you're in pain. But right now, we still have survivors among the crew. We have to pull together to save everyone we can!"

A faint light appears in the Admiral's eyes. He steels his gaze and nods.

"Yes. You're right. Thank you, Soren. Thank... thank you."

The Bloodbearer's First Officer spares her Admiral only a passing glance before heading out the door.

With José momentarily left with nothing to do, he turns to look at Grundle's severed body. Despite the Kraktol's staunched wounds, his lungs rest inside his lower half, making it impossible for him to breathe and circulate oxygen to his brain. Only a few hastily-attached oxygen pumps keep his brain from expiring.

José flicks his eyes across his friend's figure. After a moment, a thought occurs to him. He stretches out his mind toward the surviving Mallali and Kraktol troopers he left alive in the Bloodbearer's hangar, as well as the ones scattered across the ship. Those in hiding who escaped his initial wrath continue to remain crouched, not daring to poke their heads up. They sit in corners and behind barriers, petrified out of their wits.

Like a thousand-limbed octopus, tendrils of psionic energy stretch from José's mind to tap into the brains of all the other sentients on board. He sifts through their memories within seconds, eventually settling on one specific individual.

"Mid-level medical knowledge. He's no doctor, but he'll do."

Unlike before, José doesn't rip out the Dakkit's memories. He simply copies them into his own conscious mind, assimilating them with ease.

A minute later, José's eyes flash with insight. He grabs a pair of medical scanning and operating tools, then leans over his Second Officer's body.

"Don't worry, Grundle. I'll patch you up. I'll bring you back... stronger than ever."