The conqueror

CHAPTER 6 — The Conqueror
The Great Portal hadn't been used in six years.
The colossal structure still floated on galactic rock at the outskirts of planet Trinita. A metal ring of absurd proportions. Silent. Inactive. Waiting.
When the systems began to charge, light blue energy ran through its structure in bright lines, like veins waking after a long sleep.
The space at the center of the ring distorted.
And opened.
The ships emerged in formation.
Not one.Not ten.Dozens.
Trinita ships of various sizes came through the portal in a steady, ordered stream. White. With light blue lines glowing on their hulls. Silent in the void, but with a presence that filled the parallel universe like a warning that didn't need sound.
Reconnaissance ships first.Then troop transports.Then combat ships.
And at the end, advancing with the calm of someone who doesn't need to hurry because they've already won before starting, Germon's presidential ship.
Germon stood on the command bridge.
Not sitting. Standing.
Hands behind his back, light blue eyes fixed on the main screen where the parallel universe unfolded before him for the first time in years.
Braga spoke from the controls.
"All fleet sectors have crossed successfully, sir. No anomalies."
"Good."
"Zekra coordinates confirmed. Estimated time of arrival: forty minutes."
Germon didn't answer.He kept watching space.
Forty minutes later, Zekra appeared on the screen.
Purple, with turquoise mists.Exactly as he remembered it.
Except now it had something it didn't have last time.
Light.
The cities shone from the surface. Not with the dim light of a colony barely surviving. With the organized light of a planet that worked.
Germon watched in silence.
"Interesting," he murmured.
The fleet positioned itself in orbit, a formation that left no angle uncovered. Systematic. Perfect.
Germon waited.
---
The alarms went off in Zarpon's palace before any sensor could confirm them.
Raven ran in.
"Sir. Trinita fleet. In orbit. Dozens of ships."
Zarpon was already on his feet.
Not with panic.With the expression of someone who had been expecting this news for a long time and was simply receiving confirmation.
"Troop movement?"
"Not yet. Static position."
Zarpon looked out the window.The purple sky remained the same. The city below didn't know yet.
"Call the forces," Zarpon said.
Raven looked at him.
"Sir?"
"Everyone available. Armed. Full formation." A pause. "We're going to receive them."
---
Zekra's surface responded before the first trinita ships began their descent.
A formation of zekran ships rose from the palace hangars. Small compared to the trinita ones. Dark. Gold details shining against the purple sky.
It wasn't a war fleet.It was a statement.
Zarpon piloted the lead ship.
Behind him, in tight formation, dozens of zekran ships followed. Soldiers with black skin and yellow eyes. Black armor with gold details. Firm faces looking ahead.
They weren't going to attack.They were going to be seen.
---
Germon's presidential ship descended to a point equidistant between the trinita fleet and the zekran formation.
A neutral meeting platform.
Both delegations landed.
Germon descended first.
His white armor with light blue lines contrasted with Zekra's purple sky. Behind him, twenty trinita soldiers in perfect formation. Motionless. Precise.
Zarpon descended after him.
His gray armor with gold details. Behind him, his zekran soldiers. More numerous than the trinitas in that space. Black skin. Yellow eyes burning with something that wasn't fear.
It was determination.
The two leaders walked toward the center.
They stopped three meters apart.
They looked at each other.
Germon spoke first.
"Zarpon."
"Germon."
A pause.
"Six years have passed," Germon said.
"Six years in which Zekra built what you see," Zarpon replied.
Germon glanced briefly at the zekran formation behind his counterpart. Then his eyes returned to him.
"National symbols of your own," he said flatly. "Autonomous command structure. Independent technological systems. No formal declaration. No notification." A minimal pause. "No permission."
"We didn't need permission," Zarpon replied. "We just needed to do it."
"You were part of my empire."
"We were," Zarpon corrected.
The silence that followed was brief but heavy.
Germon processed the correction without changing expression.
"Terms you accepted," he said, "to avoid the destruction of your people."
"Terms imposed on us," Zarpon replied, "under threat of death. An imposed sacrifice isn't an agreement. It's a sentence. And Zekra stopped serving sentences six years ago."
Something minimal crossed Germon's expression.Not emotion.Recognition.
"You came with soldiers," Germon observed.
"Because Zekra isn't just me," Zarpon said. "What you see behind me is what we built. And what we will defend."
Germon looked at the zekran formation a moment longer.
"You built well," he said quietly.
"I know."
"With limited resources. In a short time." A pause. "Smart."
"You don't say that like a compliment."
"No," Germon admitted. "I say it as an observation."
He took a step closer.
"But intelligence doesn't change the facts, Zarpon. You broke the rules of an empire that administers hundreds of planets and galaxies. If I let Zekra be the exception..."
"Then other colony planets will see it's possible," Zarpon finished. "I know. That's why you're here. Not for Zekra. For what Zekra represents."
Germon didn't deny it.
"And still you don't surrender?"
Zarpon looked directly at his ruler.
"Never," he said, with a calmness that wasn't arrogance. "You can reconquer this planet. You have the fleet to do it. You have the technology. You have the numbers." He paused. "But you can't take away what we already are. That already happened. And no fleet can undo it."
Silence.Zekra's wind moved the turquoise mists between them.
Germon looked at him for several seconds.
"That," he said finally, "is exactly what someone who's about to lose would say."
"Or someone who already won the only thing that mattered," Zarpon replied.
Germon's light blue eyes hardened slightly.Not with fury.With decision.
He turned to his soldiers.
"Begin the descent."
The trinita ships started moving.
Zarpon didn't step back.
He looked at his soldiers.His yellow eyes scanned them one by one.
Faces he knew. People who had built Zekra with him. Who had walked those streets when they still smelled of fear and had watched them change.
"Let them find us standing," he said quietly.
And his soldiers responded as one, with a fist striking their chests.
No words.No shouts.Just that sound.
Solid.Unified.
The war of reconquest had begun.


END OF CHAPTER 6