And the sky itself was set aflame

Note: Image used is an AI production from Bing's image creator

"Dropping out now, Sir." Captain Yv'ronil's eye-stalks snapped up to focus on the main screen as Fy'loniv came into view, dead center on the screen. 'The Humans had lied.' The thought filled him with rage, quickly subsuming the fear placed there by Ambassador Reinwar's threats. As his typically translucent flesh darkened in response to his shame at being fooled, Lieutenant Fa'rithn caught his attention.

"Sir! Something dropping out behind us. Not one of ours."

"On screen." The Captain suspected he knew exactly whose ship it would be and realized that his return to Fy'loniv was precisely what the Humans had wanted. A straight line to the Esteemed Empire's home.

A ship, definitively Human in design, dropped out of its Slip, rapidly turning to charge his vessel, bright tears of light shedding from the skin.

"Draw power to starboard shields, give the battle order. Happily blood will be shed soon." Yv'ronil smiled, a cruel twist at the edges as he had a target to vent his frustrations. A target that had to be eliminated soon lest it report back the position of his home.

The Ja'inovi's crew was one of, if not the finest, in the Empire. They had already moved to battle stations when they noticed the power shift to overcharge shields. Reports quickly filtered up to Executive Officer Ka'rilof.

"All weapons ready, firing solutions set, and awaiting orders, sir." The more ambitious crew members had chosen the enemy missiles as their targets rather than the unnamed vessel disgorging a seemingly infinite number of them. Captain Yv'ronil approved their hits, trusting his crew, shields, and ship.

Beams of light ripped across the screen, some little more than dots of plasma aimed at the missiles, others sustained lines headed for the Human vessel. Before the first missiles met his shields, the shoddy craft was burning, its defences overwhelmed, its hull melted in several places, and its atmosphere venting all over.

"Admiral, the Varangian. She's destroyed, Sir. All hands lost." Captain Williams spoke softly as he saw the rapidly updating status of their escort; in one moment, and after only one enemy barrage, she lost 80% of her crew and integrity. The last 20% was already failing under the damage dealt to her, without additional shots fired.

Admiral Finnian nodded. The losses, though terrible, were expected. "They'll be remembered for their bravery. XO Pearce, are we ready?"

"95%, Sir. At full, we'll lose cloak. 40 seconds, firing solution already set. Let's hope those ResDev nutters have their math right." His Executive was unhappy to be on a test firing on an enemy rather than the planned test on asteroids. Still, they hardly had a choice in the manner of the test.

"Fire when ready. Helmsman, our return course is set?" Admiral Finnian turned in his chair.

"Aye, Sir. If the weapon doesn't kill our engines, we'll be turned around and gone in 10 seconds after firing. If it does kill them, maybe 50 seconds."

"And the cloak?"

"Active in 5 seconds after firing. 20 if we have to cycle."

"20 seconds from charge, Sir. Non-essential power turning off. 10 seconds."

"May history forgive us." Admiral Finnian said under his breath as the lights and screens all over the deck dimmed, partly from the power drain and partly as the main screen turned a brilliant white.

"CAPTAIN! Enemy vessel on screen!" Lieutenant Fa'rithn shouted as his scope pinged the Armageddon sitting beside Fy'loniv.

As it appeared, a third sun lit up in the system, the screen darkening to compensate, and the entire deck watched as that sun cracked the shell of their home like an egg. Two cracks, visible even from here at the edges of their home system, stretched along the surface, swallowing the seas as the intense gravity ripped through their home. Whole cities were lost in a blink, billions of lives ended, and the sky itself was set aflame as their home died. And then the vessel that had birthed that sun disappeared as though its existence was some trick.

"Sir, it's gone. Home and that ship are gone." Lieutenant Fa'rithn couldn't believe his eyes or scanners as he reported their findings.

Captain Yv'ronil stared at the screen, his mind unwilling to comprehend that Fy'loniv was now a broken husk. A rock in space, fit only for mining. The unquestioned seat of power for a millennium of Andromedan history had just been destroyed in seconds by little more than upstarts to the galactic stage.