He was not looking forward to this mission. Terrans were far too stubborn and righteous to see anyone’s point of view beyond their own.
Though no one asked Wrathin what he thought.
The Terrans were too foolish to listen, and none of them understood what peace meant. They did not seem to know how to stop fighting.
Initially, the Rhimodians saw no claim on the system Sol was in. Every galactic star chart—aside from those the Terrans used—showed the worlds to be uninhabited and not associated with any known galactic government. And the last thing the Rhimodians wanted was any ties to any of the galactic governments. Even the Galactic Alliance noted that the Sol system and its sector of space was not claimed by any humanoid government.
Hence the reason The Rhimodians had ventured into this part of the galaxy. Close access to the Wormhole Network and trade posts like Disguised Serenity provided them with means to trade what they needed that they could not create on their own.
It had been an economical and carefully cultivated program Master System had created for their survival, away from their builders. The Rhimodian had not intended to be warriors. They just wanted to be left to live.
The Terran Empire, however, claimed they invaded their space. That the Rhimodians had stolen from them.
Initially, peace was attempted. Negotiations tried to bring the two to an agreement.
It failed.
And the war began.
The Rhimodians would not let what had been taken from them once before ever be taken again. The Terrans would not give up their claim that the Rhimodians had stolen from their territories.
A vicious circle.
That seemed to never end.
When the Terrans had approached the Rhimodians to discuss a new treaty, it had seemed a possible light at the end of the long tunnel of darkness and war.
Yet Wrathin could not get rid of the feeling that something was amiss. His meditation was to help him clear his mind and focus on the task at hand. To prepare. Yet his adrenaline started to kick up.
Anticipation? Possibly.
Did he suspect danger?
Also, possibly.
The lift door opened, and Wrathin stepped out. His unit was preparing to take on this new mission.
Harbin would lead the escort.
“Are you flying with this unit today?” Kian said, his voice crisp and deep, and cutting over the internal suit communicator.
“Do you plan on following uploads?” Wrathin bit back.
Kian charged toward Wrathin.
“Shall we see who is strong enough to be here,” Kian snapped when he hit Wrathin.
Wrathin barely recoiled and threw a punch into the side of Kian’s head, just hitting it in the right spot to open his helmet.
“Shall I count the ways I have defeated you,” Wrathin snarled. His body rushed with adrenalin. Just being in the room, ready to launch, whether he wanted to take the mission or not, Wrathin’s primal adrenalin bubbled to the surface.
Kian’s white eyes burned like suns. “You have never defeated me,” he snarled, his skin’s colors undulating as the emotions fueled him.
“Enough you two,” Bahran said, a bark to his voice.
Kian turned to Bahran. “Oh, so the Tarnished speaks?”
Bahran started forward, a growl in his throat. His skin shifted dark, making him look almost the color of a mire.
