The calm of the alien night hung over the trio as they stood on the plateau, the cool breeze swirling around them. The distant glow of Traxon's two moons cast a haunting light over the jagged rocks and alien plants scattered across the terrain. The stars shone like diamonds in a vast, dark ocean, each one a reminder of the countless lives and worlds beyond their own. For a moment, everything seemed peaceful—almost serene.
But it was a fleeting peace. The threat of the Viltrimits loomed over them, and Nolan, Mark, and Battle Beast all felt it.
Nolan stood still, arms crossed, eyes narrowed as he surveyed the surroundings. His mind was always working, analyzing, considering the best course of action. Mark was beside him, his face a picture of concentration as he took in the alien world, his thoughts no doubt racing as he considered their next steps. Battle Beast, as always, stood off to the side, arms crossed, looking impatient as if itching for the next fight.
"I still don't understand why the Viltrimits are targeting this planet," Mark said, breaking the silence. "What's so special about Traxon? It doesn't seem like the kind of place they'd go for."
Nolan turned to his son, his expression grim. "It's not always about the planet. It's about what's on the planet. The Viltrimits don't just destroy for the sake of it; they conquer for a purpose. And we need to figure out what that purpose is before it's too late."
Battle Beast's voice broke in, his tone rough. "Planets are weak. People are weak. That's why I fight. I crush the weak. It's what I do."
Mark shot Battle Beast a sideways glance. "That's not always the answer, Battle Beast. There's more to it than just smashing things. If you destroy everything in your path, you'll end up losing sight of the bigger picture."
Battle Beast gave a scoff, his gaze hardening. "Bigger picture? I only see one thing—power. If you have enough strength, you don't need to worry about the details."
Nolan let out a slow breath, his voice calm. "Strength is important, yes. But it's not everything. Without strategy, even the strongest will fall."
Battle Beast grinned, his teeth flashing in the low light. "Strategy is good for when you can't crush your opponent. I don't mind a fight. I'll take down anyone, any time."
Mark frowned, not fully agreeing with Battle Beast's mindset but knowing that strength and strategy would both be necessary to face what was coming. The Viltrimits weren't to be underestimated, but neither could they be faced with sheer power alone.
"Maybe we should talk to the leaders of Traxon," Mark suggested. "They've been tracking the Viltrimits. They might have some insight into what's going on."
Nolan nodded. "It's a good idea. The more information we gather, the better. We can't just charge in without knowing what we're up against. It's not just about fighting—it's about understanding the enemy."
Mark glanced at Battle Beast, who still looked like he was ready to leap into battle at a moment's notice. "You don't mind waiting a little longer, right?"
Battle Beast chuckled. "I don't wait. I fight. But if it helps to know what I'm fighting, fine. Let's talk."
The trio began walking back toward the small encampment where the Traxon leaders were waiting. As they walked, the conversation shifted again, this time to more personal matters.
"So, Mark," Nolan began, looking at his son, "how are you handling all of this? It's a lot to take in."
Mark rubbed the back of his neck, feeling the weight of his father's question. "It's... overwhelming, to be honest. I've fought a lot of battles, but this is different. This is bigger than just me. And I'm still trying to figure out where I fit into all of it."
Nolan's expression softened, his usual stoic demeanor giving way to something more fatherly. "You're still learning. That's okay. Nobody expects you to have all the answers right away."
Mark let out a short laugh. "I wish I could say I'm not trying to figure everything out, but it's like... I'm constantly being pushed to be more, do more. And sometimes, I don't know if I'm ready for that."
Battle Beast, who had been walking ahead of them, suddenly stopped and turned around, his voice unexpectedly serious. "You'll never be 'ready' for something like this. No one is. You just fight. You deal with what's in front of you. And if you fall, you get back up. That's how it works."
Mark looked at Battle Beast, the words striking a chord in him. "That's one way to look at it. But I want to be more than just someone who fights. I want to protect people. I want to make sure I'm not just hurting the innocent along the way."
Nolan spoke up, his voice quiet but firm. "You will, Mark. As long as you remember what you're fighting for, you'll always find your way."
They reached the Traxon encampment, where several leaders stood waiting, their insectoid features illuminated by the glow of their campfires. The leaders were humanoid but had sharp, angular faces with large, multifaceted eyes that gave them an almost insect-like appearance.
One of the leaders stepped forward, bowing slightly as he addressed them in a series of clicks and hisses. Mark turned to Nolan, a little unsure of how to respond.
"Can you understand them?" Mark asked.
Nolan nodded. "I've been to a few different planets in my time. I've picked up some languages."
The leader spoke again, this time in a much clearer, albeit rough, language. "We have seen the Viltrimits before. They come in waves, attacking with great force. But they always take something. We believe they seek our energy reserves. It is the only thing they want."
Mark's eyebrows furrowed. "Energy reserves?"
The leader nodded solemnly. "Yes. Our planet is rich in a rare form of energy. The Viltrimits are known to strip entire worlds of their resources. They have attacked many before."
Nolan crossed his arms, his gaze intense. "And you haven't been able to stop them?"
"We have tried," the leader said, his tone tinged with frustration. "But they come in greater numbers every time. We are not strong enough to repel them."
Battle Beast let out a low growl. "That's why I'm here."
Nolan shot him a look. "Patience, Battle Beast. We need to think about this before we act."
Mark looked at the leader. "How many times have they attacked?"
"Three times," the leader replied. "Each time, they take more."
Mark's expression hardened. "We won't let them take anything else."
Nolan nodded, his voice resolute. "We'll stop them. But we need to know everything about their movements. We need to plan this carefully."
The conversation continued as the night stretched on, the group talking through their options and formulating a strategy. As the hours passed, Mark felt a sense of purpose settle over him. He wasn't sure how everything would turn out, but one thing was clear—he wouldn't let the Viltrimits take anything else from the people of Traxon.
It was time to fight. But this time, they would do it the right way.