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His slender fingers touched the keypad lightly, and the computer beeped quietly in response. His dark purple eyes were focused on the flickering screen, which was lighting the small room before him, displaying all the planets under their possession. Or, what was left of them. This was one of the five sanctuaries they had left. They rest had been destroyed by the very creatures that they'd created. It wasn't his idea to create them, the test subjects. It had been a covert operation being funded by the Military. He'd been assigned to it, and now he was one of the few survivors. They'd already demolished the main base. His family had been killed, his wife, and his two sons. He didn't have anybody left in the world, but he didn't want his race to die. They'd made mistakes, that was true. But they'd been brought up in a certain lifestyle, being taught which ways to think. So at the time, when he was a youth, he thought nothing of killing innocent races for his own benefit. Now it was different. Now he was paying for his mistakes. His whole race was. They'd been demolished, their creations sweeping through the towns and villages without protection, killing women, children, anything. They didn't care; much like he didn't care about other's lives so many years back. He considered for a moment. They'd deserved this. They'd killed millions of defenseless people, and now they were being killed. Ruthlessly, killing without mercy or care. They contained such hate towards his race, but he could understand why. He shook his head, his short silver hair getting into his eyes. He brushed it back behind his ears, and leaned back. He was a rebel. Even his haircut was considered 'wrong' in his society. But still, he was one of the most powerful Warriors that was still alive, and the government couldn't afford to exile him in these times. They needed him to fight. He was tired of fighting, what was the point? He felt hopeless so often, like there was no point in trying to defend the rest of his people. There had to be a way to save themselves, but all they could think of was killing the creations. He didn't think that was right either. But his species was past right and wrong. He decided that it was because they were so desperate to survive. The Creations were living things too...but they did owe their lives to them. 'We did create them, didn't we?' he thought. The thought had been plaguing him ever since one of the Original Four approached him. They'd been alive long before he was ever born, but the suction of space had killed them. They'd simply resurrected them in a way. 'And we abused them,' he thought bitterly. He blinked in the dim light, watching the small dust particles dance through the light from the computer screen. He didn't use to like watching the little, insignificant things like dust, but the War had brought something upon him. That was why his hair was cut short, and he wore a simple circlet band instead of a charmed one. He knew things the rest of his race didn't; he could see the reasons why the Creations were attacking with such vengeance. The computer blipped, and his eyes flickered. It was reading new Ki signatures, foreign signatures. He inhaled sharply as he tried to connect to the old surveillance system that was active in the area. He hacked into it, and finally a fuzzy picture appeared on the small screen. Ix'bet's heart beat faster in slight fear, and sweat broke out on his brow. His breaths were staggered and raspy as the fuzzy picture cleared to let him see the dark figures. There they were, two of the Originals. And four others, one different from the rest. One was a female. He leaned in closer. Could that be the one they lost? Could that be her, the one they'd tried to recover so many years ago which resulted in the death of so many of their Warriors? Yes...she looked like an Original, but she wasn't. She didn't have any scars; she didn't have the weathered, harsh look of an Original. She was an offspring of them. She had to be. There was no other possible way. Six of them. Two Originals, one Offspring and three strangers. From what he had heard from a desperate report, they were in trouble. He'd been the one who'd received the desperate cry from the last Warrior living on the planet they tried to invade. He heard her desperate voice; he heard her choking on tears as she described the sheer power that she witnessed. She had barely survived the first attack. He was sure she was dead now. "Ix'bet. Report," a gruff voice echoed through the room. Ix'bet grabbed his scouter and clicked it on over his left ear. He pressed the small red button on the side of the earpiece and set the machine to communications. "Ix'bet here. Four new enemies have arrived. The Offspring, and three strangers." His voice was stony as he waited for his superior's reply. The General swore. "Move all the scientists to the launch bay. We need to transport them to Refuge. The Genetics Laboratory is their next target. They brought reinforcements...they're going for the homeworld. They're going for Talis, Ix'bet." His voice held fear. Ix'bet could imagine the looked on the General's face: eyes narrowed, face pulled back in a frown, but fear radiating off him. Ix'bet shivered involuntarily. "I know, sir. I deleted all the files with the coordinates to Refuge. They don't know where it is. Hopefully, we will survive." Ix'bet lowered his head, remembering the terror he saw on his wife's face when a Ki blast when through her heart...he remembered her unseeing eyes as she fell to the ground, he remembered not being able to hear the heartbeat when he pressed his ear to her chest, and he remembered the dead tears running down her cheeks as she passed into the afterlife. "I hope so too, Ix'bet. Keep me informed on their movement. I want to know exactly where they're going." "Yes, sir." A single tear fell onto the cracked floor below the Talisian Warrior.
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