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ABBITT: Ambassador Abbitt Strellous’ log:

'Things are getting bad on the Epison system border: The DHA has become increasingly violent and has been amassing a large force over the past three months. While defending the inner planets of our home system is easy, I’m worried about the cost of lives it will require on the outer edges.

As a world leader, I can’t allow them to operate their narcotic trade business this close. To deter an outright attack on their part, I’m going to speak with UTC representatives and see if they would lend an allied fleet to push them back. Hopefully, they’re willing to spare some warships in exchange for trade discounts.

Beyond that, the Scarlet Troupe problem has also been brewing. Myself and others in our secret council are pouring more resources we can to expedite the Micai Warrior program. It’s incredibly rare when anyone wages war against the Mici government, but to do so means that someone is a whole new category of evil, and that’s not a word I use lightly.

Tomorrow we’ll arrive at a spaceport and meet with UTC officials at an embassy. We’ll tackle this and get some reinforcements for the growing threat. If not, it may be time to deploy Project White Glint.’

• End log

The interstellar flight to the very colony they were headed to was uneventful. For this journey, the Mici had prepped an unusual vessel for an added layer of security: A tactical cruiser, one of their powerful ships ever crafted, seen by many as a technological marvel. They were never ones to participate in any sort of lethal combat, but in a galaxy as dangerous as the Milky Way, defending themselves had to be top priority.

Within orbit over the blue and jade-green marble, the enormous, white-plated support ship had exited warp, briefly looking as if it had been stretched like a rubberband upon doing so. From there, the Mirra, as it was named, began its descent after communicating with space traffic controllers for clearance. Instead of taking a shuttle toward the surface, they would be landing directly. Luckily their massive craft was engineered for atmospheric operations.

All of a sudden- everything went to hell. Alerts went off at the bridge. Little did anyone know, the entire colony world had come under siege after a mysterious fleet of heavy warships decloaked, assaulting all planetary defenses, orbital guns, and a UTC dreadnought, all of which were getting pelted. It all started after they began atmospheric entry, and flying back up as no longer an option, lest they risk getting destroyed.

Eventually, the fight came to the Mirra’s crew: A heavy cruiser deployed by the unknown invaders had pursued them toward the surface and fired off salvos of rockets. In return, Tachyon beams were fired back, blowing out many of their weapon systems without causing any damage that’d result in its destruction.

By this point, most of the civilian population had yet to figure out they were in danger.

To evade the missile swarm, the Mici tactical cruiser zipped past a mountain range and made a few sharp turns on purpose, detonating most in the process. At this rate, they were uncomfortably close to ground level, and the only way to avoid being destroyed by those rockets was a crash landing.

With only the moon to illuminate the surrounding landscape, the Mirra had lost all its altitude, its underbelly now scarping HARD against the terrain below, rutting up grass and soil, while taking out any objects in the way. Since the bridge staff knew there was a house in their pathway, its forward-facing thrusters quickly flared up to slow their momentum. They left quite a trail of destruction their wake, thankfully no residential buildings were to be hit, except… one.

Once the Mirra had grinded to a halt, its nose struck the outer wall of a house, causing part of its to cave in as a result. The aft section finally settled and landed on the terrain behind it, impacting the ground with an audible boom, followed by a few quakes. If such noise didn’t wake the homeowner by now, this impact certainly wood, and it was a miracle they didn’t bulldoze through it.

As the heavens above became illuminated by faint flashes of orange and blue light from orbital defenses engaging the ones who put them in this situation, multiple airlock doors cracked open.

Descending from small gravity lifts were dozens of Mici, all of whom were either crew, or Mediators (Law Enforcement guards outfitted with an arsenal of gear dressed in black cloaks). Among them was the diplomat himself: Abbitt.

“This way! We have to make sure no one is hurt!!”

Immediately after disembarking, he and three Mediators came sprinting toward the house in order to check on its occupant since a presence could be sensed inside, and hoped they weren’t injured. With a worried expression, the knuckles on his small digits frantically knocked on the side door if one existed.

If they were to get the homeowner’s attention, they’d need to leave quickly while they still had time.

RUPERT: Rude awakenings were quite a common occurrence for Rupert Wilkins. Nearly nine times out of ten the disturbances were caused by vivid nightmares having to do with pretty much the exact same subject. Visions of a chaotic future haunted him just about every night, and even when he tried to fit in a catnap on the sofa in the evening. Sleep was anything but a luxury for him because it almost always ended in a similar manner, which involved waking to a start all sweaty, delirious and distressed.

This time around, Rupert was sincerely determined for a different outcome although that mindset on its own was hardly going to change a single thing. He had attempted to take action by pushing out as many negative thoughts as possible and drinking not only one but two soothing teas before dressing in his comfiest pajamas and pulling the covers over himself in his bed. If he ever wasn't meant to be bothered by those devilish dreams, that moment of peace would occur right here and right now.

It was going as well as it could have, perhaps even more so than usual. Rupert hadn't tossed and turned as much as what was typical for him and when he slowly slipped from consciousness, he actually fit in an hour or so without anything bothering him. Things, for once, were really looking up. If this carried on throughout the remainder of the moonlit hours, he would finally be able to experience a morning where he truly felt as if he'd rested well!

But then it hit. Literally hit.

The noise was deafeningly loud and equally as unexpected. And, as if that wasn't perceptible enough on its own, whatever had caused the ear-splitting boom had shaken the entirety of his home and along with it, the land surrounding it. It was such a terrible ruckus that it might have woken the dead, so it was a given that a living man like Rupert Wilkins would immediately pop out of bed. Shaken from head to toe, heart pounding, Rupert got on his slippers and made way for the nearest window so he could witness what had created such an unholy amount of disruption.

"Oh, what on..."

Rupert paused mid-speech, completely dumbfounded by the white metal mass that had collided with the wall. It was giant, intimidatingly so, and unlike anything he'd ever laid eyes on before, save for those spacecrafts found on science fiction movies which he'd flipped past on the telly every so often.

He wasn't given enough time to wholly take in its surprising appearance in or notice that the wall by his bedroom had been severely damaged, though, because in a span of a few minutes, several tap-tap-taps sounded off at the side door. Attention snapping to the one thing that served as a barrier between himself and what he could only presume was a person or who-knew-what-else affiliated with the crashed aircraft, Rupert reached out for the knob. At first he hesitated to open up, fearful for what he might find on the other side. But curiosity overcame caution as it so often did and with the click of his keys he unlocked the door, peeking his head out to find nobody at all.

At least, until he glanced downwards. Too small to be children in silly costumes and far too big to be ants, Rupert wasn't sure what sort of folk he was looking at. "Erm..." The journalist wasn't sure what he was supposed to say to these creatures so he just left it at that, his jaw hanging slightly agape as he ogled at them.

ABBITT: As expected, there was a Terran man at the door, or so they thought.

Only a mere few feet from that door, laid the slightly but visibly damaged Tactical Cruiser in all of its might, easily towering over his own in size. A craft like this was a rare site since that class of starship was typically kept out of sight for the most part, only when needed. One of the few occasions humans ever got to lay eyes on one was during humanitarian missions or during times of crisis.

Abbitt, who was surrounded by a couple of Mediators, straightened his posture and spoke first. Luckily he had on a universal translator that would eliminate any language barrier, and did so rather frantically with a visible frown. As much as he wanted to give Rupert a proper greeting, the entire planet was under siege, and time was very limited.

“You need to evacuate with us! The whole colony is under attack!”

Almost immediately after warning him about what was going on, there was a small, visible blue flash in the heavens, followed by what resembled shockwaves. It was an explosion from orbit, and a pretty massive one from a starship’s fusion reactor going critical. Everyone glanced back and up to see it. What came out of the diplomat’s mouth was going to be worse news.

“They just destroyed a Terran dreadnought-”

What followed was a series of objects piercing through the night sky: Fleets of small craft, possibly fighters from the looks of it, and not human-made. Said lesser vehicles flew overhead in formation, likely for some type of surface bombing run or seeking targets. In an instant, their situation had gone from bad to worse. By this point, most planetary defenses must’ve fallen if such an armada had gotten through.

Turning around, Abbitt gripped and tugged on Rupert’s ankle, attempting to usher him towards the Mirra as his Mediators began running back toward it. “Come on! Hurry! We can still fly out of here!!”

RUPERT: If Rupert had been given a chance to speak first, he might have not known what to say. The strange fellows had taken him aback in more ways than one. But an individual from the group of mothmen had immediately chosen to lead the conversation so that was off his list of worries. Unfortunately, where that problem was metaphorically crossed out, greater concerns replaced it. The first and foremost being the little guy's terrified tone and the alarming instructions he'd barked out while using it.

"E-evacuate?" Rupert stuttered a bit as he blinked cluelessly and rubbed the bleariness from his eyes. Having been forced out of bed by the earth-shattering crash wasn't making this any easier. "W-what colony?" There was no need for the insectoid to respond to his question as it was answered by something much bigger and louder. The airborne explosion had Rupert shooting his attention up to the sky.

What he witnessed was like something straight out of a Star Wars film. Rupert caught enough of a glimpse of the dreadnought before it was obscured in smoke and flames to gather that was what it essentially was. The fiery display was hard to mentally digest on its own, but the strange creature's remark made it several degrees more difficult. "Terran?" Rupert uttered the word, catching onto its meaning pretty quickly.

"That's one of ours?!"

He glanced up from the cricket people, if that was what they were, to the heavens again. There were starships everywhere. Fleets of them! The multitude of menacing, jagged forms reminded him of scavenging crows, scouting out prey from overhead. His humble abode looked to be the target. Just as that dreadnought had been the previous victim.

Was Earth under attack?

Rupert winced as he felt a slight pinch on his ankle and he looked down to find the tiny white thing tugging at it and suggesting that they fly away. But how could he? He wasn't a bug like this little guy! He hadn't a set of wings to get him off the ground!

Unless...

He eyed the fallen ship. The one that was crashed, and had left a dent in the side of his bedroom wall. There weren't many other options, it seemed. "A-all right!" Rupert blurted out and made a run for the grounded metal giant. In nothing but a black tank top and grey slacks, he felt a bit ridiculous, but this entire scenario was exactly that. Absolutely mad.