Blaring alarms rang out through the largest galactic observatory in the universe. The Eye has watched over hundreds of primitive civilizations across the vast expanse, studying the progress, evolution and downfall of hundreds of species through hundreds of thousands of years.
Right now, the alarms warned of an attack on one of the primitive worlds watched by the greatest minds the universe had to offer.
“What is it?” Kurmar demanded from above his half circle of floating holographic screens.
“Planet six-one-six-zero-nine, Commander Kurmar,” One of the four eyed females called from the front, her long fingers brushing frantically over the controls.
“Have they finally destroyed themselves?” His voice came out much harsher than he wanted, but the anger and fear of one of his favorite worlds starting a war with itself once again, were too great.
Kurmar had watched the strange species for years, enjoying the depth of emotion they showed of all while being disgusted and fearful of the darker things they were capable of.
“No, commander,” Zunta called, her four eyes scanning all the screens around her, “They are under attack.”
Fear gripped Kurmar at the thought of the hundreds of lives he had gotten far more attached to than he should have. It was one of the worst things a Watcher could do. Getting attached to certain inhabitants of a race they watched and recorded always ended the same. He had dismissed many Watchers over his three hundred years as the commander for that very reason. But his fascination for the race he spent hours observing late at night drove him to his feet.
“By who?” He growled, causing many heads to turn his way.
When Zunta didn’t reply, he marched down to her platform, gripping the back of her seat with a white knuckled grip, “By who?” He demanded again.
She glanced up at him with pity in her wide, oil black eyes. Zunta was the only one of the thousands of Watchers that knew his secret. To his surprise, she had kept it for over two hundred years, never once questioning why he wanted the feed from the primitive world to be sent to his private observatory.
“It’s the Spinners, commander.”
A cold spear of dread pierced his chest at the name. Fear gripped him for a moment as the faces of the thousands of innocent beings flashed in his mind.
Spinners were the most deadly beings in the universe. They killed without cause, destroying everything living they came into contact with. Feasting on the flesh of anything with a pulse, they ravished the planet until all life was dead, then moved on to the next world.
When a soft hand landed on his clenched fist, he snapped out of the vivid memories of the last time they watched the Spinners destroy a world.
“We cannot let them do this again, commander,” Zunta whispered, her endless black eyes pleading for him to do the right thing.
“We are Watchers, Zunta,” He growled, “We are to watch and not interfere.”
She shot to her feet so fast that Kurmar had to take a step back to look up at her angry eyes towering over him by at least two feet.
“What good is it for us to watch if we cannot help them?” Her high pitched voice screamed through the massive observatory, drawing stares to them.
“Calm yourself, Zunta,” Kurmar ordered, not wanting to get on the bad side of this Orsinite. When angry, the Orsinite's could be deadly with the loud, high pitch of their voice. If she wanted to, Zunta could kill every Watcher in the room in seconds.
She glared down at him, “We must do something, Commander. I will not sit by and watch as another race is wiped out of the natural progression of their evolution by a race that should not exist in the first place.”
She had a point. The monstrous beasts made quick work of the worlds they attacked. All efforts to find and kill the hive leader had failed, leaving all the planets under The Eye’s watchful gaze at risk.
Kurmar knew there was only one thing he could do. As the Commander of the observatory, he had a great deal of power and sway among the leaders of the Decagon. A ten species council that ruled over thousands of planets and billions of beings.
He let out a long sigh, lowering his eyes from Zunta. “You are right, my old friend. We cannot allow this to continue.”
Zunta relaxed, her pale white skin taking on the more rosy color he knew her to have. She sat down in her seat and took in a long breath.
“What will you do?”
He met her eyes again, and couldn’t miss the fear in them. He was not the only one that had grown fond of this race.
“I do not know yet. I will speak with the Decagon.”
Her eyes flashed with anger again, but even Zunta knew that as Watchers they could not do anything to help. Only if the Decagon agreed to send assistance would anything be done to help the small, fragile race they had watched for so long.
“Send me everything you have on the Spinners. I will travel to the Decagon now.”
She nodded, and before she could turn back to her screens, Kurmar faded from his corporal form, taking on his true state and drifted through space in the blink of an eye. He solidified in the chambers of the council members, clearly taking them all by surprise.
“Commander Kurmar, what are you doing here?”
As the last of his form solidified, a ping from his internal communication sounded, telling him that Zunta had sent him the information he needed.
“Council members,” He began, not wasting time with pleasantries, “There is a situation that needs immediate attention.”
Council member Ark’Mirakam sat forward, his long tongue flicking out towards Kurmar, “What situation?”
Kurmar turned to face the Serpinamian, “An attack by the Spinners.”
“Where?” Another council member demanded, getting to his feet.
“A planet far in the universe. It is one of the many we observe at the Eye.”
“Is it a planet under the Decagon?”
Kurmar took in a long breath, letting it out slowly to calm his nerves.
“No. It is primitive.”
Already he saw the answer that lay on the tip of every one of their lips.
Before they could answer, Kurmar spoke, “I have never requested assistance from the council before. I have done many of you favors, both in official capacities as well as private. I will not hide the desire I hold to assist this race, but I will hold each of you to the favor you owe me.”
He pinned each council member with a firm gaze, making his point clear. He would talk if they did not do something.
“What will you have us do?” Ark’Mirakam asked, easing back in his seat.
“Send the Torian’s.”
Those three spoken words had every one of the council members sitting back with shock, each of their eyes going wide.
“Commander Kurmar,” Ark’Mirakam recovered first, “Do you know what you ask?”
“Yes!” Kurmar growled out, taking a step closer, “Nothing less will do. I do not only want the Spinners dead, council members, but I want this race saved. They are on the verge of meeting the requirements of joining the Decagon.”
He hated lying to the council, but he was willing to do anything to save the race that had wormed its way into his heart.
“The Torian’s are not a force to toy with, commander. Once the order is given, there will be no way to stop the warriors from finishing their task… at all costs. They are not known as the most brutal, deadly and efficient force in the galaxy for no reason. Are you sure you wish to send such a powerful force to this primitive world?”
Kurmar didn’t hesitate. “Yes. Send them now, council members. No delay will be tolerated.”
Eyes narrowed at him for the demand, but he knew that each of them had secrets they did not want getting out. Secrets he knew and helped arrange for them.
With a heavy sigh, Ark’Mirakam sat forward, crossing his arms on the thick wooden table in front of him.
“Commander Kurmar, are you willing to use the sway you have over us for this? Once we send the Torian’s to this world, you will never again hold anything over us.”
“I know. All past favors will be voided once this race is saved. Saved, council members. Nothing less will do.”
He waited, watching each of them exchange a look.
Finally, they all gazed down at him and he bit back his smile.
“Very well, commander. Your request will be granted. The Torian’s will be sent to this primitive world to save the inhabitants.”
“Give the order now, council. There is no time to wait.”
He watched a screen appear in front of one of the other council members. He mentally sent all the information the Torian's would need for this mission, and hoped deep inside that he hadn’t just made a fatal mistake.
Torian warriors were the most feared and violent force throughout the thousands of planets under the Decagon. Merciless, deadly, and with skills that shook even the most seasoned warriors. The Torian warrior force was the last resort, called in for the most violent and dangerous tasks needed by the Decagon.
A soft ping from the screen drew his attention and Kurmar flinched at the harsh voice coming through.
“This is Bor.” The cold, deep voice called.
“Lord Bor,” One of the female council members said, her voice holding the tremble that accompanied her fear, “This is council Member Lucila, Decagon council.”
No answer came, but the connection was still there. Lucila swallowed, “By order of the Decagon, your services are needed on a top secret mission of the highest importance and urgency.”
“Mine… Or the Torian’s?”
“The Torian’s,” Kurmar growled, not wanting to waste any more time with the pointless back and forth.
A chuckle came in through the line, sending a wave of unease through Kurmar. It held no tones of humor or joy, rather the deadly edge of someone looking forward to a fight.
“What is the mission, Council members?”
Lucila motioned for Kurmar to speak.
“Spinners have attacked a primitive world. You are to go to this world, kill all the spinners, and save the inhabitants of the planet.”
“Who are you?”
“I am Commander Kurmar, the head of the Watchers at The Eye.”
“And you think you can give us commands.”
“The Decagon has given you a command, Bor! Your orders are clear, warrior king. Go to this planet, kill the Spinners, and save as many inhabitants as you and your warriors can.”
“And if we do not?”
Kurmar gritted his teeth, glancing at the council members.
Ark’Mirakam sat forward, “All funding for your division comes from this council, Lord Bor. As agreed, we will fund your division on the understanding that when needed, you and your warriors will assist the Decagon.”
After a moment of silence, Bor spoke again, “What world are we saving today?”
Kurmar didn’t miss the sarcasm in the males voice. For a moment, it reminded him of the race he had watched for so long.
“All the information needed has been sent to you, Lord Bor. Gather your warriors. Earth awaits your arrival.”