The starship's command deck thrummed with a quiet intensity, its walls vibrating faintly from the engines' low hum as Dead Omen Star receded below, a crimson wasteland shrouded in violet storms. Bai Sha stood in the fleet captain's office, her gaze fixed on the holographic displays, her expression a mask of controlled frustration. The captain's terse assessment of the Federation team's plight—"not optimistic"—hung in the air, a grim portent of the chaos unfolding on the planet's surface. Bai Sha's voice, sharp with urgency, cut through the silence. "What does 'not optimistic' mean?"
The captain, a seasoned officer with the rank of major, adjusted his posture, his black nameplate glinting under the sterile light. "Both the Empire and Federation have deployed fleets to clear the Red-Feather Sparrows, but the efficiency is lower than hoped. Starships, while formidable, lack the agility to counter these creatures effectively. As you saw, even our three ships took time to handle a mere fraction of their flock."
Cen Yuehuai, lingering nearby, gaped in disbelief. "There's no way to deal with them?"
"There are methods," Xino interjected, his tone measured but heavy. "Large-scale extermination strikes by fleets are standard, but extracting people from a Sparrow swarm is another matter. Red-Feather Sparrows are uncommon, confined to a handful of planets like Dead Omen, so research on them has been minimal. Unlike the Creeping Roses, which have extensive studies, there's no tailored defense against Sparrows."
Bai Sha drew a sharp breath, her resolve hardening. "Take me to the captain's office."
"Of course," the captain said, nodding with practiced courtesy. To the students clustered around Bai Sha, he added, "Rest for now. I'll escort Her Highness."
The captain's office, perched on a platform above the high command deck, offered a panoramic view through transparent walls, revealing the orchestrated chaos below. The fleet, though distinct from traditional military branches, shared the Empire's rank structure. Crew members in cyan uniforms bustled about, their shoulder insignias denoting ranks, while chest nameplates—color-coded by specialty—marked their roles: command, navigation, piloting, engineering, communications, and medical. The captain's black nameplate set him apart, a symbol of his unique authority.
In the Empire, "fleet captain" and "starship commander" were hierarchically linked. A captain held supreme authority over a vessel, able to lead campaigns directly or delegate to a commander. Commanders, ambitious and upwardly mobile, eyed captaincy as the next step, though a captain's tenure was transient—ending with reassignment to higher military councils or new ships. Fleet cohesion demanded stability, so the Aeronautics Ministry rarely shuffled captains lightly.
Bai Sha had no intention of usurping command. Her presence in the office was to leverage the captain's access to real-time frontline data. She scanned the organizers' dedicated rescue network, noting that the Federation's own fleet led the effort to save their team. Raising her eyes, she asked, "We've sent no one?"
"We have," the captain replied, "but neutralizing the Creeping Rose nest takes precedence. Most of our ships are at the mountain caves. We proposed joint rescue operations with the Federation, but their military cited a lack of deep collaboration and declined." He paused, choosing his words. "Their concerns are valid. Against Sparrows, more ships don't guarantee success. The Federation's firepower is adequate."
Bai Sha remained silent, her fingers swiping through frontline reports. The captain's earlier pessimism was justified: the Federation fleet had rescued few. The Federation students, displaying quick thinking, had sought shelter in caves and rocky outcrops upon encountering the Sparrow swarm, thwarting direct attacks but complicating extraction. The fleet struggled to clear the bugs—until the swarm was diminished, evacuation was impossible.
"The core issue is the Queen," the captain said. "She's not just powerful but the swarm's strategist. A sentient Queen maximizes the Sparrows' collective strength."
This doubled the rescue's difficulty. The rescue network displayed a growing casualty list, updated in real time. Bai Sha scanned it quickly, relief flickering as no familiar names appeared. "Have we contacted the Research Institute or Starbug behavioral experts?" she asked. "Any viable suggestions?"
The captain shook his head. "No breakthroughs for Sparrows. But scholars hypothesize that the Creeping Rose Queen's incubation triggered the Sparrows' own. Both species are vying for Dead Omen's resources, one covertly amassing strength, the other striking first. Our pre-exercise scans missed these latent threats—a tragic coincidence."
Bai Sha's lips twitched, her tone dry. "Wonderful. This 'tragic coincidence' nearly killed us."
"Don't say that," the captain said, a wry smile breaking his formality. "The Empire team's luck held."
He summoned a topographic map of Dead Omen, highlighting the teams' landing zones and routes. Red and yellow zones marked the Sparrows' and Roses' territories. The Empire had landed just outside these domains, carving a direct path into the Rose nest, amassing points before retreating at the critical moment. The Federation's fate was less fortunate. Their landing zone was precarious, their serpentine path weaving through the contested borderlands. Starbugs, with keener senses, had avoided these volatile regions, leaving the Federation with scant prey. After the Rose nest's lockdown, they'd abandoned caution, charging into Sparrow territory—a move so ill-fated Bai Sha could only marvel at their misfortune.
The Federation must have realized their peril, hence their warning to the Empire: Run.
"Inform the Federation's fleet: the Empire is ready and eager to assist their rescue, even in a support role—fire cover, supplies, anything. We back their plan without overstepping." Bai Sha leaned on the desk, her voice cool but resolute. "How many idle ships do we have? Divert one or two. Go now."
The captain hesitated for half a second, then complied. As Crown Heir, Bai Sha's authority was unquestionable in such moments. The communication with the Federation was swift and effective; desperate, they accepted the Empire's aid.
Bai Sha's decision wasn't purely altruistic. The Federation's warning, whether from a friend or stranger, had earned her gratitude. As for Dead Omen's chaos—two Starbug species battling for dominance—it intrigued her. She opened her light computer, diving into research on both Queens.
The Red-Feather Sparrow Queen: upright, avian, with crimson feathers and golden claws. Its strength lay in leadership, commanding swarms with devastating group tactics and rapid mobility. The Creeping Rose Queen: sprawling, plant-like, with a single dominant flower, its layered, fleshy maw concealing a pulsing red heart. Its danger stemmed from potent hallucinogens—toxic gas and mental manipulation, the latter capable of enveloping an entire territory, potentially the whole planet if unchecked.
Given their threat levels, the Empire's focus on the Roses was defensible. Bai Sha closed the files and opened a video link to Xino. The starship's signal was robust; he answered instantly. "Your Highness?"
"Did you hear my earlier order?" Bai Sha's face was a mask of ice. "I want the Rose nest's gas—all you can get."
Xino's mouth twitched, but he answered honestly. "We've collected some."
"Test it. Now. And capture a Sparrow for experiments."
Xino caught her intent: the gas, amplified by thousands of Roses, could be a weapon against the Sparrows. "The Queen won't be easily affected," he cautioned. "It's a tier above regular bugs."
"The Sparrow Queen doesn't hide behind its swarm," Bai Sha countered. "Kill it first, then deploy the gas. The fleet commanders know this. Our job is to confirm the gas's effect on Sparrows."
Xino swallowed hard. "I'll order more gas collected."
"You said 'some,'" Bai Sha pressed. "How much?"
"About… twenty, thirty, maybe fifty milliliters?" Xino mumbled, sheepish.
Bai Sha stared, incredulous, then slammed the desk. "Are you joking?"
"I was worried about addiction," Xino sighed, his tone half-apologetic, half-defensive. He metaphorically dropped to his knees, then fled the call. "I'm sorry! I'll get more gas—lots of it!"
Bai Sha exhaled, her frustration tinged with amusement. The plan was audacious but feasible. If the gas could disrupt the Sparrows, it might tip the scales for the Federation's rescue. As the starship hummed, she turned back to the displays, her mind racing with possibilities, the duel of sovereigns on Dead Omen unfolding in her thoughts.