Intergalactic conquest with an AI

Just then, the final two maid bots inserted the crimson-core energy cells into her armor. The plating hummed as power surged through it.

Glowing red neon lines lit up across her chest, shoulders, and helmet like veins of living light. The suit's systems came online, and Lyra felt the familiar weight and strength return to her limbs.

She rotated her shoulder plates, testing the balance, then knocked gently on the Tyrant's broad metal chest with a grin. "Well then, Tyty, are the boys prepped and ready?"

The Tyrant turned slightly toward her, his mechanical voice still flat but firm. "Affirmative, Commander. All transport ships are fueled, loaded, and standing by. Your orders are required to initiate planetary descent."

Lyra nodded once and stepped forward, her armored boots clanking on the polished floor. "Alright then… let's go claim a piece of this hell."

Behind Lyra, the hangar rumbled and roared to life like a beast waking from slumber. The launch sequence had begun.

Giant clamps released, warning lights flashed red, and loud, rhythmic sirens echoed through the metallic corridors of the destroyer's launch bay. One by one, the heavily armed transport ships of the Blood Legion came online, their engines burning with a low growl, eager to descend into battle.

These weren't ordinary transport ships. Each one was reinforced with thick armor plating and bristled with mounted weapons, from plasma turrets to kinetic cannons designed to hold their own even under enemy fire. And now, all of them waited for just one thing: Lyra's signal.

Without hesitation, Lyra turned and marched toward her personal command transport, a massive, fortress-like ship that dwarfed the rest.

Unlike the others, this one had been personally engineered by Cleo herself, built not just for durability but to serve as a mobile command center capable of leading entire armies.

Its hull gleamed with black and crimson alloy, and glowing energy conduits pulsed across its frame like veins of light.

She boarded through the side ramp, the door hissing shut behind her, and made her way to the front cockpit.

The pilot cabin was wide and lined with control panels, holo-screens, and an armored command seat in the center. Lyra sat down, her crimson power armor clicking into the chair's magnetic lock.

She looked forward through the reinforced glass at the haunting, rotting world below.

"Well then," she muttered, her voice low and cold, "System, take us down into that graveyard of a planet, the one that only knows how to steal lives…"

Her words weren't just dramatic; they came from a place deep inside her. This planet wasn't just another mission. It was personal.

Because this cursed world… was the place where she had first met both Cleo and Rex. But it was also where her father had drawn his last breath. His death remained an open wound that never fully healed.

Upon hearing Lyra's command, the transport ship's AI core blinked to life. Bright glyphs lit up across the panels, and the ship responded with a soft hum that slowly rose to a deep, vibrating growl as the engines charged.

Then, with a powerful thrust, the massive ship glided out of the destroyer's hangar, leading the fleet like a queen at the front of her legion.

Behind her, nearly a hundred Blood Legion transports followed in tight formation. Each one was loaded with Aegis units and essential supplies, including rations for Lyra and crates of ammunition and repair materials for her forces.

The fleet streaked through the atmosphere like falling stars, trailing flames as they pierced the thick layers of the planet's sky.

As the descent began, the Tyrant unit standing behind Lyra received a signal. His glowing optics flickered briefly before he spoke.

"Commander," he said in his ever-neutral tone, "Outpost Theta-7 has sent a distress signal. They are under siege. Enemy forces have breached the outer perimeter, and current outpost defenses are unlikely to hold. Requesting immediate assistance."

Lyra's expression sharpened. "System, you heard him. Prioritize full speed. Get us there now."

She reached out and gently patted the hardened sphere embedded in the center of the cockpit; it was a glass-like orb housing the ship's AI core. It pulsed gently in response, as if acknowledging her touch.

[Understood, Commander. Reallocating power from life support and secondary weapons to shields and engines. Engaging maximum thrust.]

"Wait, what!? Why are you disabling life support!?" Lyra shouted just as her helmet hissed closed and sealed itself around her head. "I need oxygen to live, you know!"

[Worry not, Commander. Your suit's internal life system has been synchronized. Oxygen levels stable.]

Just as the AI finished speaking, the ship jerked violently. Lyra was slammed back into her seat as the acceleration suddenly increased tenfold.

The G-force was brutal even inside her power armor. The entire ship groaned under the pressure as it pushed its engines far beyond standard limits.

Within minutes, the rapid descent came to a sudden and jarring halt. The atmospheric stabilizers roared as the ship broke through the clouds and hovered just above the planet's dark surface.

[Commander, we have successfully entered the planetary zone. A direct route to Kaelzar Outpost has been established. Do you wish to proceed alone or wait for the rest of the fleet to regroup?]

The voice of the AI was calm and composed, as if nothing unusual had happened... but the sudden stop had launched Lyra out of her seat like a ragdoll.

"AAARGH—!"

If it hadn't been for the Tyrant unit, who had buried his massive feet deep into the steel floor and caught her mid-flight, she would have splattered against the ceiling or the windshield like a bug on a car.

Now tangled awkwardly in his arms, Lyra groaned as she rubbed her back. "Ugh… remind me to format this damn AI when we get back…"

Though the power armor absorbed most of the impact and protected her from real injury, pain was still pain, and to Lyra, that meant it still counted.

The Tyrant simply held her with one hand and looked forward, completely unbothered. "Confirmed," he replied dryly.

"There's no need to wait for the others," Lyra ordered firmly, brushing herself off as the Tyrant unit gently set her down. Her voice was sharp, full of authority.

"Have their ships follow at regular speed. No way they'd survive what you just pulled on this ship. And don't forget to switch the damn life support back on, or I swear I'm pulling your core out myself!"

[Understood, Commander. Adjusting course. Life support system reactivated.] With the AI's calm reply, a soft hiss of air filled the cabin as oxygen levels returned to normal.

Lyra's power armor registered the pressure change and loosened its emergency seal, allowing her helmet to retract. She took a deep breath, shook her head, and focused her attention forward.

Meanwhile, on the surface of the Necrotech world, chaos was unfolding at the Kaelzar Outpost.

The once-imposing stronghold now teetered on the edge of collapse. The defensive perimeter had shrunk down to a fragile front line, one held together by a single warrior.

A lone Tyrant unit, battered and scorched, stood between survival and annihilation. Without him, the outpost would fall within minutes.

This particular Tyrant had fought with unwavering resolve for months. He had crushed waves of infected, repelled raiders, and even withstood a duel against the mutated creature responsible for the destruction of the nearby human outpost.

But the price had been steep. His right mechanical arm had been torn off in that battle, leaving exposed wires and sparking cables where a weapon once sat.

In most situations, he could have simply replaced the limb... but not now. Not after the raiders destroyed the nearby Kaelzar manufacturing plants. Not after the fall of the Mauler Juggernaut, who once stood guard on the manufacturing plants.

Now, alone and running on the last of his energy cells, the Tyrant unit faced a fresh threat... two towering mutated infected, over three meters tall, covered in twisted muscle and festering bone armor.

Worse yet, these creatures regenerated every wound he dealt them. His blade would carve deep into their flesh, only to see it seal shut within seconds.

"Squads Eight and Eleven, provide suppressive fire on my location. Squad Two, reinforce my position immediately," the Tyrant ordered, his voice remaining steady despite his condition.

He dodged and weaved between blows, every movement shedding sparks and leaving dents in his chassis. His frame groaned under the weight of fatigue, his once-polished armor now scarred and blackened.

And as if that wasn't bad enough, the dreadful wailing sound echoed once again across the battlefield, the cry of the child-like creature that had orchestrated the fall of the human colony. Its presence stirred the infected into a frenzy.

Reinforcements tried to come, but they were too few and too late. The Aegis units that arrived were torn apart within minutes, leaving the Tyrant unit facing the mutants alone.

The two monsters closed in with their Claws raised ready to rip him apart. But then A thunderous roar filled the sky. A new light bathed the battlefield in crimson and gold.

Lyra's command ship descended from the clouds like an avenging angel, casting its shadow over the crumbling outpost. The glow of its underbelly lights lit up the ruined landscape, and every infected creature turned their gaze upward just in time to face annihilation.

"Burn them down," Lyra commanded, her voice echoing through the ship's comms as she rose from her command chair.

[Confirmed. Deploying incendiary warheads.]

Dozens of missiles launched from hidden silos across the vessel's undercarriage. They rained down on the infected with terrifying precision.