Spoiler! :
It started out as a normal day for Commander Darien Weston of the Intergalactic Command. He woke up early in the morning on his homeworld, kissed his wife goodbye, and spent two hours on his shuttle to the space station. Weston was a rather tall Glacian, the ice-wielding humans, from Glaciar. His face even looked like ice. His eyes were ice-blue, his hair was beginning to turn silver in his old age, and at work he held no emotion. As he entered the control room the entire room stood at attention.
"At ease," Weston said. Everyone sat back down. Weston walked by his second in command, a Felinus male by the name of Rubyclaw.
The Felinus were part-cat and part-human. You might think they were crossbreeds, but they weren't. The Felinus had cat ears instead of the regular human ears, retractable claws, and a cat tail. Their hearing was at peak sensitivity, and it was impossible to lie to them.
"Status, Lieutenant," Weston said to Rubyclaw.
Rubyclaw turned in his chair to face Weston. Rubyclaw was fresh out of training and made Weston feel old. After all, Rubyclaw was the same age as Weston's daughter. "Well, sir," Rubyclaw said, "we have a problem."
"Oh?"
"Carnage has been reaking havoc all night on outposts on Forestara. The kid's strong."
Lately the Intergalactic Command had been having problems with a Gravitor teenager named Carnage. The Gravitor were the most feared species in the galaxy. They were humanoid, but their features were startling. Each and every one of their fingers were replaced by claws that blackened with age. Nobody was sure how, but the claws on their hands actually functioned as fingers. Three of these claws were retractable. With these claws came a killer instinct. Another noticeable feature was the skin horns. These skin horns allowed the Gravitor to switch from regular vision to thermal vision. However, all these features were only on the males. The females were timid, virtually harmless, and more human than most.
There were two reasons the Intergalactic Command was having problems with Carnage. The first reason was the small group Carnage had formed. They were large enough to reak enough havoc on small Intergalactic Command outposts all over the galaxy but small enough to be impossible to track. The second reason was that Carnage was red-skinned.
The Gravitor came in four different colors: blue, yellow, red, and purple. Blue and yellow were the normal colors. They were the average day-to-day citizens and soldiers. Red and purple were the colors you needed to look out for. Purple signified a Gravitor as the leader of a planet, meaning that they would have the highest training in the combat arts. Red Gravitor didn't need training. They were born with the black claws that came with the becoming of age. They knew how to fight from the day they were born. This is why Carnage was such a pain.
"Have we at least tracked Carnage?" Weston asked.
"No," Rubyclaw answered. "Nor did his group suffer any casualties last night."
Weston folded his arms. "The next planet in the string that Carnage has been attacking is Flare. We can not lose the outposts there nor can we let him recruit anyone to his cause. Double the guard at every outpost. Triple the guard in the cities."
"Yes sir."
Weston wanted the madness to end. He hoped the extra firepower would work. "Anything else I miss?"
"Our galaxy's overwatcher wishes to speak to you in the conference room."
Weston's heart sank. Vero, their galaxy's Overwatcher, was the last person he wanted to speak to. The Overwatchers were a group dedicated to making sure the universe was in sync. There was an Overwatcher for the entire universe: every realm, cluster, galaxy, and planet. The Overwatchers were chosen by the universal Overwatcher who was immortal. Vero, a Glacian, was the current Overwatcher for the Geldran galaxy and Weston's worst nightmare.
"I'll go speak with him," Weston said. "Thank you, Rubyclaw." Weston walked to the conference room and entered. Vero was waiting for him at the head of the table.
"Hello, Commander," Vero said.
"Greetings, sir," Weston replied.
"Have a seat. We have much to discuss."
Weston sat down. "If this is about Carnage, I can assure you that..."
Vero cut him off. "This isn't about Carnage. This is something much bigger than Carnage."
"Sir?"
"I trust you heard about the fate of a Volcanian girl late last night."
"I was running late this morning and didn't have time to catch the paper."
Vero raised an eyebrow. "Indeed? Well, then allow me to explain. The girl was the latest in a series of cave deaths. I'm sure you know to which cave I am referring."
"The cursed one? It's all coincedence."
"The Volcanus Overwatcher and I have been looking over the incidents. It isn't coincedence."
Weston let out a small laugh. "Apologies, sir, but you truly believe the cave is cursed?"
Vero's expression darkened. "It isn't a curse, no. Evidence points to something else entirely. We believe the Master is hiding there."
The Master was a man who would have been in his thirties by now. Ten years ago he had caused the Overwatchers many problems then vanished without a trace after failing to enter the Overwatchers' sub-realm. The Master commanded every power and magik known to the galaxy making him the one of the greatest powers in the universe.
"With all due to respect, the Master has been missing for ten years now. No one's seen any sign of him. There can't be any sufficient evidence."
"Actually, there is. Firstly, the wind power described by a friend of the girl is unnatural even by mountain standards. The only place where this wind should exist is on Atarx. Secondly, every disappearance that happens there is one of a girl's."
"Thirdly, the reason the cave was abandoned by the miners was because of severe flooding which caused many deaths. There was no leakage reported anywhere in the tunnels before this."
Weston raised an eyebrow. "I still don't think that qualifies as a hiding place for the Master.
"That hardly means..."
"Furthermore, the last place the Master was spotted was on Volcanus ten years ago on the exact same day of the cave flooding. The chances of a coincendence like that are very small."
Weston sighed and slid his hand down his head. "Do you want an investigation done?"
"Yes. See that it happens, Commander." Vero disappeared.
Weston entered a room hidden behind a wall in the conference room. He hit a button and the image of a man came up. The man looked to be in his twenties. His face, however, had the experience of an old war veteran etched on his face. This man was the Master.
"What?" the Master asked.
"Master," Weston said kneeling. "The Overwatchers are onto you. They believe you are hiding in the cursed cave on Volcanus."
The Master smiled. "Is that so? They actually are paying attention to the disappearances then?" He turned his head behind him. "You hear that, girl? They're looking for you!" He faced Weston again. "I expect they've also noticed the disappearances of the beings of Time and Space?"
"They noticed it five years ago, Master," Weston answered.
"And their supsicions?"
"They believe it was you, Master."
The Master laughed. "They have one thing right then." The Master's expression changed to a more serious tone. "So tell me Weston. What causes you after ten years to finally contact me again? I see you've been promoted."
"Sir, are you hiding in the cave?"
"No, but the cave is a necessity for me. Tell you what, let us talk in person. Saturday night, meet me on Atarx. I will be at a restraunt called Ginger's." The connection shut off.
Weston groaned. That wasn't the conversation he had hoped for.
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