Space is vast and nearly empty, a dark expanse broken only by distant stars glittering against the black.
Most days, it was nothing but distance and cold light, quiet and endless. But not today, as in the same emptiness is filled with fire and explosions, and lots of it.
As today, a line of capital ships burned in slow, ugly pieces, their armored ribs splitting open and spilling glowing debris that spun away like sparks from a grinder.
Asteroids that used to drift aimlessly are now shooting past through the mess, some natural, some not, their surfaces scarred by impacts and fresh craters still venting vapor.
Every few seconds, another explosion punched outward in a bright bloom, silent at this range but violent enough that the shock made nearby fragments tumble.
And a few thousand miles from this weirdly chaotic but spectacular scene stood rows and rows of ships.
These ships constantly emitted beams as they destroyed their enemies without ever being hit by any of the shots the enemies fired at them, thanks to their powerful shields, which connected to each other, creating a massive spectacle.
But while everything outside was anything but calm, inside the most central ship in the formation's command bridge, the situation was the opposite.
On the massive bridge, there are only two people: one is sitting in the main command chair, while the other is standing right next to them, looking like an assistant.
And in front of the person sitting, a massive amount of data flowed methodically.
He leaned back slightly, one arm resting against the chair, eyes forward. The displays shifted as the battle changed, icons sliding, blinking, vanishing. He didn't rush to follow them. He already knew where to look.
The assistant stood at his side, posture straight, expression plain. Her gaze stayed on a different layer of data than his, with it being mainly focused on the ship they were on.
"Enemy carriers are trying to regroup," she said.
He gave a small nod. "Let them."
Outside, the enemy fleet was slowly breaking apart as they tried their best to stay alive and not become the new target.
Ships that were meant to fight in formation now moved without any regard to other ships nearby, each captain trying to keep their own hull intact.
A cruiser on the right flank took a hit, leaving a large hole, and its engines flared as it corrected. Another followed, then another, each with their own problems, causing them to lose any form of formation they had before.
"Looks like this battle will soon end," the assistant said.
"They always do after all, we are using higher-tiered ships to fight them."
Meanwhile, the enemy line pushed forward, chasing the retreat. Their formation stretched, gaps opening where ships should have overlapped. Weapon fire intensified, bright streaks crossing the dark.
He then lifted two fingers and then swiped them in the air.
As he did, a special signal went out.
From behind the drifting wrecks and shattered asteroids, smaller ships slid into view.
Each of them is not larger than any of the asteroids near them, causing them to go undetected in this chaotic scene
But they were soon noticed when they fired straight into exposed engines and sensor arrays.
This caused the enemy ships to lose thrust; some spun, others slammed into debris or their allies, who were in a similar situation
The assistant then glanced at another display. "Their center is slowing."
"Good."
She hesitated for half a second. "Flagship is still holding."
He looked at it then. The enemy flagship sat deeper in the field, massive and intact, its guns firing in steady cycles.
"They look confident," she added.
"That is not surprising, as they don't know much about us other than seeing us as their prey."
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the chair's arms. "Call her in."
The assistant next to him nodded once as she waved her hand towards the screen.
A few minutes later, a holographic image of a woman appeared before them.
She had a surprised but expectant look as she nodded at the two on the bridge before waiting for her orders
"So it's finally my turn?" she said.
He didn't look at her as he replied. "It is time to wrap it up."
She sighed as she said. "Why am I always the one who has to do the cleaning?"
The assistant spoke evenly. "Weren't you the one who wanted to do this, and you get the first dibs on the flagship?"
The girl rolled her eyes once as she looked at her own main display, which was similar to what the assistant was seeing. "I see it."
He finally turned his head. "Go for the kill shot, don't try to drag it out as we have the other fish who have already taken the bait."
She smiled sweetly as she said. "Wasn't planning to."
Then, from one side of the formation, a large fleet of small to medium-sized ships broke away from the formation.
It moved fast, threading through debris without slowing, using the chaos as cover.
Enemy guns tracked it too late.
The ships slipped under a volley, skimmed past a drifting hull, then cut engines at the last second. Momentum carried it forward, dark and quiet.
Then they fired one after another.
And strangely, all of them came together as they created a tight burst straight into the flagship's side, right where layers overlapped, causing massive damage to the armor.
Seeing this, the flagship tried to turn.
But it didn't finish.
A second strike hit deeper. Internal detonations followed, ripping through the ship from the inside out.
Light spilled from the fractures, then vanished as the structure collapsed in on itself.
Seeing this, the rest of the enemies collapsed.
Some ran, some surrendered, some fired wildly as a last-ditch effort to do some kind of damage.
On the bridge, all of this was visible, and neither side looked surprised, as they had seen it countless times.
The girl exhaled as she smiled slightly. "Another one down."
He nodded once. "Good work."
Hearing this made the assistant show more of her smile, as she is happier to receive praise from her commander than to win this battle.
But while they were talking, the battle didn't end all at once outside. It slowed, then thinned, then faded into recovery signals and drifting wreckage.
Fires burned out, and the wrecks of the ships were cleaned out, leaving behind fragments and special items.
Time moved forward slowly.
The displays changed. New systems. New borders. Fleets repositioning. Reports stacking.
The bridge stayed quiet.
Days passed like that.
The chair changed. The room changed. The view outside changed from open space to city-spanning skylines and orbital rings.
People lined the halls instead of the corridors. They bowed instead of saluting.
Titles followed him whether he accepted them or not.
Orders left his hands and reshaped entire sectors. Fleets moved. Worlds complied. Resistance faded when it realized there was no opening to exploit.
The girls stayed close, appearing where they wanted, when they wanted. Sometimes they argued.
Sometimes they laughed. Sometimes they just watched him work, as if it were the most interesting thing in the universe.
He let it happen.
Slowly, he shifted from being the one in charge of everything to someone who only needed to point, and others would take care of it.
An empire rose over time, spreading across the stars. It took the space left behind by fallen powers and made it its own.
When the wars finally slowed, and the noise faded, he stood alone in his private room, looking down at the capital below.
Lights covered the city like a sea. Roads glowed with moving traffic. Everything felt calm, controlled, safe. This was what peace looked like when no one dared to cause trouble.
Behind him came voices. Laughter. People moving around as if they belonged there.
He turned.
They were spread across the room, relaxed and confident. One leaned against a table. Another sat with her legs crossed.
Someone raised a glass at him with a smile. One woman tapped the seat beside her, inviting him over without saying a word.
The sharp one stood near the door, arms crossed. "Hubby, come in and rest."
Hearing this, he stepped forward towards her with a smile.
But just as he was about to embrace the one near the door, pain hit his chest out of nowhere.
His breath caught. His legs gave out, and he dropped to his knees, hand scraping the floor.
The room felt heavy. Wrong. Like the air itself had shifted.
He looked up.
Space twisted in front of him, opening into a dark hole where nothing should be. It grew wider, quieter, and colder.
Objects slid toward it. A glass vanished.
Hands grabbed him. Voices shouted.
The pull grew stronger.
Their grips slipped.
The room stretched away as he was dragged forward.
The last thing he saw were their shocked faces.
Darkness closed in.
And with a dry breath, he muttered, "Damn… right when things were getting good."