Intergalactic conquest with an AI

mothership of Cleo's gaze drifted from the planetary champion's composed face to the two Elite guards lying broken on the floor. A faint, silvery light glowed within her eyes as she scanned them, her unique senses instantly mapping the intricate web of their injuries. They were stable, but only just, and required urgent medical assistance if they were to ever wield a weapon again.

Satisfied with her assessment, she turned her luminous eyes back to Rex, offering a tiny, almost imperceptible nod before plucking another fruit from the bowl and eating it quietly.

That small signal was all it took. This time, the bot maids whirred to life; their previous halt command was removed. They moved with swift, efficient grace, carefully lifting the groaning guards and carrying them out of the room to the mansion's hospital wing.

A heavy, charged silence descended in their wake. The planetary champion's mask of pleasantry finally slipped. "What is the meaning of this?" he asked, his voice sounding low and stripped of its earlier false warmth.

It was no longer a question from a host to a guest but the cold, sharp tone of a ruler who had just felt his authority challenged within his own domain.

Rex waved a dismissive hand, the gesture as casual as if he were swatting a fly. "Don't trouble yourself over it. Consider it a simple safety measure for our peace of mind. You will have full control of your systems returned the moment we depart...."

"But it seems you had something you wished to tell us." As he spoke, the floor itself rippled, stone and metal flowing upwards to forge a new throne directly in front of him.

It was grand, yet undeniably utilitarian, lacking the ornate carvings and precious inlays of the one Rex occupied. "So, why don't we start from there? Please, take a seat. Let's talk instead of standing on edge all day."

He gestured to the newly formed seat, a clear and deliberate symbol of lowered status. The planetary champion felt the insult like a physical blow to his pride. His jaw tightened, muscles flexing along it.

Yet, he was a pragmatist above all else. The aura he had felt from Rex's casual retaliation against his guards was a bottomless abyss of power, terrifying in its controlled intensity.

In the span of a few heartbeats, he weighed his options, calculating the risks of defiance against the unknown depths of Rex's strength. Pride, he decided, was a luxury he could not afford. Forcing his body to move, he crossed the room and lowered himself into the offered throne.

Rex's lips curled into a satisfied smile. "See? It wasn't that hard to sit and speak like civilized persons, was it?"

The champion swallowed the bitter taste of humiliation, letting the jab slide. "You're right, my friend," he conceded, the endearment sounding hollow.

"This is, indeed, the primary reason for my invitation tonight. Though, there is also another, more delicate topic I wish to discuss with you." His eyes flickered toward Cleo, a brief but intentional glance.

That single look was like striking a match in a room full of gas. A wave of possessive, high-voltage jealousy radiated from Rex so palpably the air itself seemed to crackle.

"Oh?" Rex's voice dropped to a deadly whisper, his silverish eyes igniting with a threatening inner light. "Did you not receive the warning I sent you through your secretary?"

The champion raised his hands in a placating gesture, meeting that terrifying gaze without flinching. "It is not what you are thinking, dear guest. I assure you, I have no ill intentions toward the lady. I merely seek a moment to speak with you alone. Man to man."

Rex did not retreat his suffocating aura. He leaned forward like a predator sizing up his prey. "You can speak of whatever you wish with her present. There is nothing I hide from her. She will know the nature of our conversation now, or she will hear it from me later. The choice is yours, but the condition is non-negotiable."

Compelled, the planetary champion looked at Cleo again, this time allowing a thread of his own power to brush against her, trying to sense the realm of her strength.

The result was deeply unsettling. He felt nothing. No swirling energy, no core of power, not even the faint hum of a low-tier warrior. She presented as a complete void, a commoner without a shred of combat capability.

The reason was deceptively simple. While the new body Cleo inhabited was robust enough to temporarily channel Rex's planetary energy, it was a taxing process.

When not actively engaged, she kept her link with him tightly sealed, conserving its integrity. It made her appear utterly harmless, like nothing more than a beautiful accessory.

But In truth, she was a fortress without its banners flying; even devoid of visible energy, her physical vessel alone possessed a resilience that could rival any Tier 5 combatant. She was the calm at the eye of the storm, and the planetary champion, for all his power, was completely blind to the tempest she contained.

"As you wish," the planetary champion conceded, the words tasting of ash in his mouth. The fight had gone out of him, replaced by the cold pragmatism of a man presenting a business proposition.

With a swift, practiced motion, he produced a sleek, metallic disc from within his robes. He activated it, and a portable holo-recorder whirred to life, casting a pale blue light across their faces. "If you would be so kind as to look at this, please."

A large holographic screen materialized in the air between the two thrones. At first, it displayed what appeared to be a colossal meteorite, an irregular chunk of rock and ice tumbling through the void.

But as the video advanced, details resolved. Geometric patterns of unnatural, black metal became visible beneath the rocky crust. Glowing conduits, like veins of sickly energy, pulsed across its surface. This was no random celestial body; it was a constructed leviathan, a spatial fortress of immense and alien design.

"As you can see," the champion began, his voice taking on the cadence of a military briefing, "this is a mothership of the Voids. They use these behemoths as their vanguard to invade and consume entire sectors of the galaxy."

"The last recorded appearance was over five hundred years ago, or so the official registers claim." With a flick of his wrist, he summoned additional holo-screens, displaying still images and data streams alongside the main video; they showed spectrographic analyses, energy readings, and long-range scans of the asteroid.

"And?" Rex's voice was a flat, unimpressed plane. Internally, he knew precisely zero plus zero about the Voids, but a lifetime of power had forged an impeccable composure.

He sat with the relaxed authority of a professor listening to a student review a lesson he himself had written, making the champion feel as though he was stating the blatantly obvious.

"I purchased this intelligence from a branch of the Galactic Exploration Guild," the champion continued, a note of urgency creeping into his tone.

"And if I could acquire it, it means many other powerful players have, or soon will. As we speak, I am assembling a team... a specialized crew to infiltrate and scavenge that mothership before our rivals can beat us to it."

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes looking intense. "And as you already know, destroying a Void mothership is suicide. The resulting energy backlash creates a warp-space beacon, summoning an entire Void fleet in a matter of seconds. To my knowledge, no one who has triggered that alarm has ever survived to tell the tale."

He paused then, letting the weight of his words settle, his expectant gaze fixed on Rex, waiting for a reaction, a question, anything.

But... contrary to his expectations, the voice that broke the silence was softer, yet razor-sharp in its clarity.

"If..." Cleo began, having finished her fruit, her gaze now fixed on the champion with unnerving focus. "...we decide to help you; what are you going to offer us in return?"

A slow, appreciative smile touched the champion's lips. Here was a language he understood perfectly. "A fair and direct question." With another gesture, he dismissed the images of the mothership and summoned a new holo-screen.

Hovering within it was the rotating image of a magnificent gem, its core a deep, royal purple that seemed to swallow the light. Inside it, shadows twisted and coiled like captured smoke, a dark, potent energy contained under immense pressure.

"These are Warp Crystals," he announced, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper. "On the galactic market, the demand for them is astronomical, yet the supply is virtually nonexistent."

"They cannot be synthesized; they can only be harvested from the heart of a Void mothership." He zoomed the image in on the shimmering crystal.

"A single one of these provides an immense military advantage for any faction or megacorporation. By altering its resonance, one can generate the same warp distortion the Voids use to move across the galaxy."

"It is the key to instantaneous, untraceable travel." His eyes gleamed with ambition. "You could even use it to chart a course to the very place from which that mothership originated! to take the fight to their doorstep."

The planetary champion's words hung in the air, painted with the grand, bold strokes of a righteous crusade. "Taking the fight to their doorstep."

It was a compelling narrative, one designed to inspire and recruit. But Cleo was not listening to the words; she was listening to the man.

As he spoke that final, grandiose line, her heightened senses, attuned to the most minute biological shifts, registered a sudden, sharp spike in his blood pressure. It wasn't the steady surge of fervent passion or righteous anger. It was the quick, greedy flutter of pure, unadulterated avarice.