Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Just then, the door swung open, and Carlos, Emilia, and Y'Ssera entered, each taking their seats around the table. Rex's thoughts were interrupted, and he shot a quick glance at Cleo, but her expression had already returned to its usual calm mask.

Carlos took his seat, giving Rex a nod of respect.

"Sir Rex. Lady Cleo,"

he greeted them formally.

Emilia offered a polite smile, though her gaze flickered with curiosity as she glanced between Rex and Cleo. Y'Ssera, meanwhile, looked mildly bored, adjusting her hair with a flick of her wrist.

Rex cleared his throat, straightening in his seat as he remembered his role.

"Alright, so… let's get started. What's on the agenda for today's meeting?"

Cleo subtly adjusted her posture, letting Rex take the lead as the others settled in. Though she didn't look at him, he could tell she was listening closely, almost as if she were testing his abilities.

And as the planning session began, Rex couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to Cleo's decision and her past than she was letting on.

As everyone settled around the huge table, holographic screens flickered to life in front of each person, projecting data and visuals. Cleo stood at the head, her gaze sharp and focused.

"If you'll direct your attention to the screens, this is the plan our leader, Rex, has decided on."

Rex gave her a sidelong look, a bit taken aback by her formal tone, but didn't interrupt. Information about the recently acquired necrotech world scrolled across the screens, with diagrams and images detailing the risks and resources required.

Carlos furrowed his brow as he scanned the data.

"What exactly am I looking at here?"

he muttered, scratching his shaved head.

Rex grinned, leaning back in his chair.

"I had the same reaction, baldy. But just keep reading; it's all explained."

After a few more minutes of tense silence, Y'Ssera looked up, her expression regretful.

"I'm sorry, darling,"

she said to Rex, her tone soft.

"But I won't be able to join you this time. This kind of enemy... it's deadly to my people. We've encountered necrotech worlds before, and our protocol is to destroy them from orbit. Going down to the surface is far too dangerous."

Rex gave her a reassuring smile and a wink.

"Don't worry about it, Ys. This mission will just be me and Cleo. We're immune to the virus, and so are our troops. We're the best suited for this kind of operation."

Y'Ssera nodded, though a trace of sadness lingered in her eyes.

"Be careful, darling,"

she murmured.

Cleo took over, her fingers tapping commands into her holographic console, bringing up a new set of data. Schematics for a sleek, medium-sized warship appeared, along with blueprints for upgraded Aegis units.

"As Rex said, we're immune to the virus, but that doesn't make us immune to the physical attacks of the infected. We'll need time to prepare an appropriate force. It will take two years to build an army large enough, as well as a proper escort for the ship I'm currently designing."

Carlos looked up from his screen, his face a mixture of curiosity and concern.

"And in the meantime... what's our role?"

Rex turned to him with a grin.

"Carlos, you're in charge of running operations for the Thunderblade mercenaries while we're gone. You've got a free hand to manage things however you see fit. Just keep them in one piece, alright?"

Carlos chuckled, giving Rex a mock salute.

"You got it, boss."

Y'Ssera stretched her arms, letting out a delicate yawn that showed her sharp, cat-like fangs.

"Well, if you'll both be occupied with preparations, I think I'll return to hibernation. You did wake me up far earlier than scheduled, darling～."

She gave Rex a playful smile, her eyes half-lidded with a mixture of affection and fatigue.

Rex frowned slightly, concern crossing his face.

"Sorry about that, Ys. Is it affecting you? Did waking up early cause any damage?"

She waved a hand dismissively, her smile softening.

"Nothing serious. My bio-weapons systems are still disabled, so I'm not at full strength, but I'll be fine. I just need more rest."

She reached out to pat his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture.

Rex smiled back, squeezing her hand. "Alright, then. Rest well, Ys. We'll take it from here."

Y'Ssera nodded, her gaze lingering on him for a moment before she rose gracefully from the table, her robes flowing behind her as she left the room.

As the door closed, Rex looked around at the remaining team

. "Alright, looks like it's just us. Let's make these two years count."

Cleo nodded, her usual stoic expression softening just a fraction as she met Rex's gaze.

"We have a lot of work to do. But I have faith... we'll be ready."

And with that, they returned their attention to the screens, each preparing for the challenges that lay ahead.

World of Nakor, Year 5602 of the Imperial Galactic System

The war between the allied fleets and the hive minds dragged on, with no clear end in sight. The arrival of the allied supercapital ships had momentarily lifted the spirits of those watching from afar, a glimmer of hope in the darkness.

But unsettling rumors began to circulate that another hive mind was reportedly joining the conflict, raising questions about why the hive minds seemed so fixated on the world of Hanarix.

World of Nakor, Year 5603 of the Imperial Galactic System

The tide turned grim. Of the three supercapital ships that had been sent to support the allied forces, only one limped back, battered and scarred, its hull punctured with gaping holes. The sight of its crippled frame orbiting Nakor cast a shadow over the people's hopes, a reminder of the scale and brutality of this war.

Yet amid the gloom, a new arrival sparked intrigue. A sleek, medium-sized ship with gleaming white and gold hulls appeared in orbit above Nakor, staying for a few days before being joined by a formation of matching fighters. Once they had all docked, the ship opened a wormhole and vanished, its destination known only to a select few.

Aboard the white-and-gold ship, Rex strolled onto the bridge, his gaze drifting to where Cleo was standing by the controls. His eyes traveled over her figure with an appreciative smirk.

"Hello there, Cleo. Looking good,"

he said, his voice laced with playful mischief.

Without looking up, Cleo replied in her usual deadpan tone,

"Welcome back, Rex. And in case you were wondering, my face is up here."

Two years of working together had given her an uncanny sense of exactly when Rex was saluting her butt instead of her.

Rex chuckled, undeterred.

"Oh, my bad. I was admiring your beautiful black hair. Nothing else, I swear."

He flashed her a grin, then added, "

So, how much longer until we arrive at the necrotech world?"

Cleo's gaze remained fixed on her screens. "

Approximately three hours, using the wormhole."

Rex nodded, glancing at the holographic display showing past recordings of Cleo's encounters with the infected of necrotech worlds. The twisted, undead machines flickered on the screen, their cybernetic parts sparking erratically as they lumbered forward in endless, mindless waves.

"So... do you think there'll be any survivors down there?"

Rex asked, a trace of hope in his voice.

Cleo's golden eyes shifted slightly, betraying a hint of sympathy.

"Highly unlikely. According to the black market's information, it took them nearly three years to acquire those coordinates. And we've spent another two years preparing to get here. My informants indicate we're the first to arrive, but if anyone's survived this long... it would be a miracle."

Rex fell silent, his expression contemplative as he stared at the flickering images on the screen.

Meanwhile, on the surface of the necrotech world, a father and his twin young daughters sprinted through the rubble-strewn streets, their breath coming in desperate gasps.

Behind them, a group of infected drones lurched forward, rotting humanoid figures whose decayed flesh was fused with malfunctioning cybernetic implants, their eyes flickering with erratic lights. While slow, they were relentless, and there were far too many of them to outrun easily.

"Papa!"

one of the twins cried, her voice trembling. "

I... I can't run anymore!"

The father glanced down, his face pale and exhausted. He was already carrying her twin sister in his arms since she was burning up with fever, her body weakened by an untreated illness that would have once been trivial to cure. But now, medicine was a distant memory, just like the days of peace.

"I know, sweetheart. I know,"

he said, his voice cracking. "

But we have to keep going. Just a little further."

He spotted a nearby building that looked relatively intact. Grabbing his daughter's hand, he pulled her forward.

"Quickly! Let's go inside and head for the roof. We can block the stairs behind us."

He kicked the door open and ushered his daughter in, following close behind to make sure none of the infected were too close. They sprinted up the stairwell, the father glancing anxiously over his shoulder at every turn, praying they could stay one step ahead of the relentless swarm.

At last, they burst onto the rooftop, but the girl he'd been leading collapsed onto her knees, her legs finally giving out from sheer exhaustion.

"P-Papa… I... can't... move anymore,

" she gasped, struggling to catch her breath.

"Just hold on, sweetheart,"

he murmured, bending down to comfort her. But his eyes widened in horror as he spotted movement behind her.

"Sweetheart, look out!"

A decayed, cybernetic drone stumbled out from behind a pile of debris, its mouth opening in a grotesque hiss as it lunged toward his daughter, its metallic fingers outstretched.

The father lunged forward, desperation flooding his veins as he reached for anything, anything at all, to save his little girl.