Meanwhile, on Voltrago, Drill Captain Xadanex carried a profound burden in his heart, though neither his mind nor face betrayed this inner turmoil. His weathered features remained impassive, masking the storm of anxiety churning within. The stark reality remained—the Alliance's entire fleet had been smoked to cosmic dusts, along with two additional starships dispatched to intercept the Draconian mothership. Three formidably-armed vessels obliterated by a single enemy craft would weigh heavily on anyone, particularly someone who rarely allowed emotions to breach his stoic demeanor.
This was no ordinary mothership. Intelligence reports from Voltrago Central revealed the vessel comprised some form of organic pure energy substance currently impervious to destruction! The analysts had worked tirelessly, their faces drawn with exhaustion as they delivered this devastating news.
The craft appeared built upon the eternal Principle of Energy—"Energy can neither be created nor destroyed, only transformed." This energy-configured vessel absorbed the firepower directed against it, mutating into an increasingly formidable adversary with each bombardment. Its organic engineering allowed it to grow stronger with every attack, defying conventional military strategy and leaving the Alliance's brightest minds bewildered.
In the Voltrago Central Strategy War Room, twenty-two Generals and Field-Marshals of the Aries Space Marine Alliance had assembled. These representatives of the Supercelestial Council of the Armed Forces appeared either in person or via Trimensional Holograms—three-dimensional projections that rendered them lifelike despite their absence.
Drill-Captain Xadanex stood as the sole low-ranking officer among this distinguished gathering, a privilege he had earned through countless acts of valor on the battlefield. He might have shared their rank had he not chosen the path of drill-captain, preferring the humble life of low-rank with efficiency rather than a high-rank with inefficiency. Besides, this offered him the opportunity to shy away from political maneuvering.
The Strategy War Room featured a vast multipurpose hall with electronic seats arranged in circular formation, resembling an immense roundtable. Holographic displays flickered throughout the space, casting an eerie blue glow across the grim faces of those present.
Captain Xadenex stood on a central dais, his shoulders squared despite the weight of responsibility, briefing the Supercelestial Council.
"Up to this moment, Generals and Field-Marshals, we remain unable to devise a strategy to neutralize the threat from The Draco Constellation," Xadanex stated grimly, his deep voice resonating through the chamber. "The mothership continues to expand with each lethal arsenal we deploy against it. It has absorbed our entire range of weapons—atomic, nuclear, photon, voltron, ultravoltraon, annihihatron, and even antimatter warheads—as if our most advanced armaments were mere trifles."
The officers stirred uneasily, exchanging glances of incredulous shock that seemed to say: "This CAN'T be happening!" Beads of sweat formed on furrowed brows; hands clenched and unclenched in frustrated helplessness.
Noting their helpless reactions, Xadanex continued, his voice dropping to a somber tone, "It's not even attacking other galaxies and planets within our constellation. It ignores them as though they don't exist—even while absorbing bombardment from their warships.
"It has no need to retaliate. They pose no threat but rather fuel its purpose. Instead, it heads directly toward Voltrago." He paused, letting the gravity of his next words sink in. "Intelligence suggests that once it captures Voltrago, the capital planet of Aries, the Draconians will easily overwhelm our entire Aries Stella System. I regret to announce that Draco plans a full-scale Constellation Overthrow of Aries."
"Constellation Overthrow?" gasped an elderly general, his holographic form flickering with the intensity of his emotion.
"Impossible!" shouted another, slamming his fist against the table.
"That's absurd!" cried a third, her voice trembling.
"Unheard of!"
"Madness!"
"Somebody do something!"
Numerous objections erupted simultaneously, echoing throughout the chamber like thunder. The drill-captain's keen eyes scanned the room, focusing on one particular outcry: "We are doing something, General Omkala Gumba," he replied, addressing a portly figure whose uniform seemed too tight around his neck.
"Obviously, that something isn't enough," replied the Humanoid General from planet Ptoliena, a pompous, chubby individual who appeared to have conducted his military career entirely from behind a desk, untouched by actual combat. His jowls quivered with indignation as he spoke. "Have we tried negotiating with them? A surrender treaty, perhaps?"
"Are you out of your damned mind?" challenged Field-Marshal Bukkwaqua Vwez, a legendary Grey Race veteran from planet Doineb, imposing in both voice and presence. His scarred face contorted with disgust, battle-hardened eyes narrowing dangerously.
"I would be, sir, if I lose over ten thousand fine soldiers without killing a single enemy in return," General Omkala retorted, his voice rising defensively as he dabbed perspiration from his brow. "How many thousands more must we sacrifice before acknowledging defeat?"
"I quite comprehend your consternation, General Omkala," said the field-marshal, "but we cannot just negotiate a surrender treaty with a warring race of galactic lunatics,"
"But I fear that we do not yet have a ready interception, let alone termination, plan at the moment, sir," opined General Omkala. "Which, unfortunately, may bring us to the negotiation table, by the look of it."
"Unfortunate is a word I loathe, General Omkala," sympathized Field-Marshal Bukkwaqua. "So, is there no genius in this War Room that can bail us out of this embarrassing mayhem?" the field-marshal addressed the house: though it was obvious he was saying this to deliberately provoke someone in the house. And that someone promptly responded.
"Are you implying that we're all stupid, Field-Marshal Bukkwaqua?" asked a slighted Field-Marshal Odontie from Ersvesa. And he had a good reason for asking. Ersvesa was a planet of highly intelligent Insectoids. He was a massive-headed, human-shaped Insectoid whose extensive knowledge of galactic warfare spanned centuries. Yet even he found himself powerless against this unprecedented invasion, sharing the same helplessness as every officer gathered in the War Room.
"It's meant to be a joke, Field-Marshal Odontie," Field-Marshal Bukkwaqua remarked with an air of superiority. "You should try it sometime."
Silence filled the room, the attempted humor falling flat among the assembled officers. Field-Marshal Odontie seized the opportunity presented by this awkward moment. "Such a dry, costly attempt at wit," he countered with aristocratic disdain. "Had our circumstances been less dire, perhaps we might have indulged in your so-called 'jokes.'"
Half the assembly erupted in laughter, not because of any genuine amusement, but because Odontie commanded greater respect and charisma than his rival. His cutting retort proved far more entertaining than Bukkwaqua's failed attempt at humor.
"Comrades!" Field-Marshal Wexdenex of Voltrago interjected in a calm, diplomatic tone, attempting to defuse the tension brewing between the two high-ranking officers.. He was the Governor-General of the Supercelestial Council of the Aries Constellation; and thus, the Constellation President of Aries. "We are at the verge of war. And jokes are the last thing we need at this moment.
"Instead of quarrelling amongst each other, the question we should be asking ourselves is: What solution, or solutions, do we have against this devastating menace? Right now, the answer is none – except for a surrender treaty – except, of course, another miraculous solution pops up within this room before we depart. So," Field-Marshal Wexdenex threw his attention at Drill-Captain Xadanex, "what effort have we made so far toward a surrender treaty with the mothership?"
"Surrender treaty, Mr. President?" remonstrated Field-Marshal Bukkwaqua. "You're not seriously considering –?"
"Unless you can offer a healthier solution right now, Comrade Bukkwaqua," President Wexdenex cut in firmly, "I suggest we allow Captain Xadanex to answer my question. Captain?"
"We've attempted to reach the mothership through various negotiation channels, Mr. President, but they've rejected all transmissions," the captain responded, his voice tinged with defeat.
"All of them?" General Omkala inquired.
"Every single one," the captain confirmed.
"That's peculiar," remarked the general gravely. "Are we certain our messages actually reached them?"
"Their radio systems remain active even now, and their communication channels stay open," Xadanex explained, barely concealing his frustration. "They simply refuse to acknowledge our attempts at contact."
"What alternatives remain for us, comrades?" the President asked, his tone approaching surrender.
Nobody in the War Room could provide an immediate answer...