Intergalactic conquest with an AI

"Thanks, Little Red... seriously. You always handle everything like it's nothing. I mean it." His voice softened as he looked at her.

Then, after a pause, his voice turned playful again, tinged with genuine curiosity. "Say... why do you always call me 'Young Emperor'? You know it always throws me off."

Zynaria turned her head slightly toward him, her crimson gaze steady. For a moment, she said nothing. The firelight from the distant bar flickered in her eyes like dying suns, and her voice came soft, barely louder than a whisper carried on the wind.

"Because you carry my father's crown."

Rex blinked while the air between them stilled.

"That crown... it's more than a beautifully adorned storage," she continued, her voice calm but threaded with emotion.

"It was forged during the rise of the Kaelzar Dominion, a relic of honor, of duty. Whoever bears it is considered heir to the throne... even if that throne is long turned to dust. You carry it now, and that makes you our Young Emperor."

She glanced away for a brief moment, her face composed as ever, but Rex had known her long enough to hear the quiet tremor in her voice.

"Not that it matters much," she added. "There are only two of us left. A princess... and a young empress."

The silence that followed wasn't heavy... it was sacred. Rex sat up slightly, resting his elbows on his knees as he looked at her silhouette against the pitch-black sky.

"I don't know if I deserve that title," he admitted. "I'm no emperor."

"You are," she replied firmly. "You just haven't realized it yet."

The stars above them twinkled on in silence, uncaring of bloodlines and forgotten crowns.

Rex was just about to speak some half-formed thought that was lingering on his tongue when a sudden shift in the atmosphere pulled his attention elsewhere.

From their quiet, secluded home on the edge of the settlement, something had changed in the distant village. The sounds of revelry and drunken cheer had vanished, replaced with chaos and alarm.

From afar, figures could be seen darting in all directions, mercenaries scrambling, shouting orders, some rushing toward their vehicles, and others hastily loading weapons, armor, and supplies.

"What the hell...?" Rex narrowed his eyes, watching the sudden pandemonium unfold.

"What is happening in the village…" he muttered, then rose swiftly to his feet. Without wasting another breath, he turned to Zynaria. "Come, Little Red. Let's go check it out, but keep airborne and cloaked. No need to expose ourselves yet."

Zynaria nodded in silent agreement, and with a synchronized movement, both of them unfurled their wings. Hers, elegant and refined, glistened with a sheen of crimson light.

His, heavier, edged with battle-worn alloy and humming with quiet energy. With a gust of force, they took off into the cold night sky, their bodies shimmering into invisibility as their cloaking fields activated mid-flight.

As they soared above the village, the full scope of the chaos below came into view.

Mercenaries were fortifying defensive positions, dragging out heavy plasma turrets, shielding generators, and every last scrap of makeshift armor.

Others shouted out frenzied commands into comms, while some, clearly not keen on dying for a random dust-covered town, had already abandoned their posts and fled in speeders and dropships, disappearing into the night.

The villagers were no less panicked; their doors were already slammed shut, windows were barred with anything from planks to metal sheets, and primitive security fields began flickering to life across rooftops.

This wasn't just some brawl about to break out... it was a siege.

"Young Emperor," Zynaria said suddenly, her voice sharp and precise. "Something is approaching. Their numbers are rising rapidly… one thousand… two thousand… five thousand. They're almost upon us. Visuals incoming."

With a flick of her fingers, a holographic screen materialized before them. they were connected directly to the enhanced sensors in her eyes, showing Rex exactly what she saw in real time.

As the screen zoomed in, Rex could see the approaching storm.

A horde of monstrous creatures surged across the barren land like a crimson tide. Dozens became hundreds, then thousands. Their bodies glowed faintly, pulsing with the same dark red energy that painted the skies of cursed battlefields.

No two were alike... some crawled, others bounded on muscular limbs. Some were built like siege engines, lumbering with the weight of a small tank, while others slithered like serpents made of bone and blade.

But they all shared a common trait: heavy metal collars around their necks, each etched with glowing crimson runes pulsing in sync, like a grotesque heartbeat. The symbols radiated domination, rage, and control.

"What are those things?" Rex asked while narrowing his eyes as he pinched and zoomed the holo screen.

Zynaria's voice was measured, but there was a hint of grim acknowledgment beneath it. "Warbeasts. Bio-engineered horrors designed solely for one purpose... destruction. They're used by warlords and ancient factions to soften planetary resistance."

"These ones, though… they weren't just released randomly. They've been unleashed strategically and recently. That makes them different."

She paused, her crimson eyes flickering with lines of alien text, thousands of characters and calculations running across her pupils like cascading data streams. "Probability of them being sent to find us is… high. Very high."

Rex growled under his breath, his gaze drifting downward. The mercenaries were falling apart. Less than half remained within the village's perimeter, desperately attempting to prepare defenses that, by the look of it, wouldn't last ten minutes.

The rest? Gone. Cowards or survivors... he couldn't decide which yet.

"Of course they're here for us…" Rex muttered, his voice low and edged with steel. "Somebody doesn't want us alive anymore."

He clenched his fists, his knuckles cracking as energy began to course faintly through his veins. His bionic systems responded to his rising adrenaline, syncing with his combat protocols.

Already, his HUD was calculating possible battle plans, damage forecasts, and terrain usage.

"What's the plan, Young Emperor?" Zynaria asked, her tone now professional. Rex's eyes hardened as he looked over the trembling village below.

"We can't let those things massacre the people down there, not while we can still do something about it. Besides… if they're looking for us, we might as well greet them first."

"Say…" Rex's voice was low as he looked toward the horde of monstrosities crawling toward the village like a plague, his right hand already shaping his powered claymore from the nanite-infused alloy stored in his bloodstream.

The massive blade took form in an instant, its jagged edge humming with kinetic energy and a faint, dangerous glow. "If we move away from the village… would they follow us and leave the civilians alone?"

Zynaria, still floating effortlessly beside him with her wings spread like the silent herald of a forgotten god, answered.

"Negative," she replied, her tone colder than the night winds that swept the barren death planet.

"Warbeasts are not deployed with discretion. Their programming is simple: annihilate everything. Life, structure, infrastructure... it doesn't matter."

"If it moves, they kill it. If it stands, they tear it down. Even if it delays them, they will raze this settlement to the ground."

She turned her crimson eyes toward Rex, her expression unreadable, though something flickered in her gaze, perhaps curiosity, perhaps pity.

"It would be an efficient tactic to fall back. Let the beasts expend their initial rage on the village. We could reposition and vanish through a space rift. No risk, minimal loss. Tactically sound."

Rex looked at her then. Not with anger. Not with disappointment. But with something harder to define. His gaze carried weight, pain, and defiance.

"I know you're right," he said quietly, almost to himself. "Hell, in another life, maybe I would've agreed. Maybe I would've just walked away, watched from afar while the flames rose."

He let out a dry, bitter chuckle as he stared down at the village below. The panic was palpable now. The shield erected by the mercenaries shimmered with unstable energy, already showing spiderweb cracks from the sheer force of the monstrous siege.

The villagers... men, women, and children huddled in their homes, praying to whatever gods still bothered listening on this forsaken rock.

"But I'm not that man anymore," Rex continued. "I didn't come all this way just to bring my family back and become the kind of monster I used to fight. I've killed more than I can count. I've torn lives apart with my own hands. So yeah… maybe I'm a hypocrite."

He inhaled deeply, the cold air turning to steam against the heat rising from his body as his systems prepared for war.

"But I'm still not ready to kill innocents and sleep like it didn't happen. I'm not there. Not yet."

Zynaria was silent for a moment, studying him. And then, as if silently acknowledging his resolve, she gave a small nod.

"The shield won't last long," she said calmly. "They've surrounded the perimeter. The large beasts, those with reinforced tusks and carapace plating... they're focusing their attacks on a single point in the barrier. If they continue, it will collapse in less than two minutes."

"Then we'll buy time," Rex said while gripping his claymore tightly as a surge of heat pulsed from his core and spread across his limbs. "We hold the line until the civilians can escape. We break open a corridor if we have to."

He turned toward Zynaria, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Can you keep me from getting torn apart in the first sixty seconds?"

"I can do better," she replied, her voice softer than before, almost fond. "I can make you look like a god of war."

Rex chuckled darkly. "Then let's go give them hell, Little Red."

And with that, the two of them dove toward the village below... into the mouth of chaos, where nightmares clawed at the walls and hope was flickering like a dying ember.