[Language Warning, Scenes of violence]

"You're daydreaming again, dear."

Scoria straightened at the sound of her father's voice. It took her a moment to remember what she was doing. It became clear when she studied the field in front of her. Halcandrans were gathered together, spending their excited energy on games and tests of strength in preparation for next week's Festival of Flames. She could not resist a chuckle. The scene before the chief's daughter was very... Halcandran.

The clearing was occupied by the Puffballs sparing and wrestling each other while the Malacans cheered them on from the sidelines. Puffballs were hardier and of a brutish nature. They were an avian people, born with large wings or fast feet. They were the most skilled predators on Halcandra, able to outrun any foe (if they did not throw it or crush it first). On the other end of the spectrum were Malacans. The feline people were quick and boasted impressive jump-distances, but they were not as physically gifted as their companions, but they made up for this with creativity. Musical instruments of the finest quality, armor and weapons rivaled by none, art crafted from the most beautiful gems hidden in the volcanic soil. Malacans were an excitable bunch that saw beauty in everything. Someone who was not from Halcandra would find it strange how such different species got along so well. But it was well known here that they were perfect for each other, two races bound together, gifted by the gods and living in peace.

She finally addressed her father beside her, "I'm sorry, Father. I feel a bit distracted. I guess I'm just nervous about the festival. I've never lead it before."

"Hoho, don't worry so much!" As always, the old Malacan was laid back and carefree. "You'll do just fine. Just judge a few events and give an encouraging speech at the beginning and end. It's easy, dear. I promise."

Scoria curled her lips at him, an angry expression lost under her light blue hood. "That's easy for you to say. Nothing bothers you."

"It's true," he admitted, "but I'd be even happier if you found a partner for the festival. How long are you going to make me wait for grandchildren?"

She rolled her eyes at him. "We've talked about this. I told you that I don't know how to decide... and that is NOT permission to set me up. I'll choose when I'm ready."

The little old man chuckled warmly again but left the subject alone. Cinnabar was an elder chief, but he always maintained a youthful personality. His cloak was tinted red, much like the soil in Halcandra. His clothes were set apart from the others by baring no patterns. Sometimes, however, he would put on different clothes, pretend to be someone else, and pester his friends. He was mischievous, cunning, and unafraid of anything. The only thing he ever worried about was his daughter. She was the type to worry endlessly over a single problem and seek advice at the last minute. Her current problem was finding a partner. Scoria had plenty of interested suitors, but she could never figure out who she wanted to share a bond with. She was a kindly Malacan who saw good things in all creatures. If all creatures are good, how could she pick just one to marry? Her father reminded her each time she said this that all she had to do was pick the one she loved and liked spending time with. His child would simply shake her head, still unsure how to make the best decision. It made him wonder if she had someone in mind already and simply refused to tell him. He vowed to help her in any way possible, which usually meant playing match-maker, much to her embarrassment. Scoria deserved the best and to be with someone who would care for her but also respect her authority as the next chief.

The two watched the games in silence for a while when Cinnabar saw a familiar face nearby surrounded by at least ten children. The chief waved him over, and the knight always obeyed. Galacta Knight was a fine warrior and a dedicated teacher. After having surpassed all his mentors, Galacta moved on to spreading his knowledge to the next generations by becoming a mentor himself. All the little Malacan cubs and Puffball fledglings loved him. Although his appearance was intimidating, he was a gentle giant to them. Galacta was a natural at teaching and, to a degree, parenting. For this reason, busy adults would often seek him out for advice or to watch their children. When he was not tending to the children, he would oversee the sparing sessions. Puffballs tended to be brash and overeager, which lead to many injuries and accidents. Galacta usually had to intervene to prevent disaster and then teach the students proper techniques. Given his skill, Chief Cinnabar would often ask him to train the village guards or act as a personal guard himself. The knight was trustworthy, though still young and a bit bashful.

"Galacta, how are things on the field?" Cinnabar began as the knight bowed before him. "Are they ready for the festival?"

When the magenta knight rose to his feet, he nodded slowly, trying not to throw off the cubs clinging to his horns. "Everything is ready, sir. More than enough food has been gathered, decorations are nearly complete, and the musicians are preparing a special selection for this festival. Everything should be finished with days to spare."

"Good to hear," the chief said with relief, "I see you have your hands full again."

Galacta laughed as he placed the climbing children back on the ground, "Yes, sir. I don't mind though. I can keep up with them."

"Of course you can. I expect nothing less from you," Cinnabar praised, "I'm surprised you don't have any of your own yet."

The knight pried off a determined fledgling that wanted a paw full of feathers. "I know, but I'm usually more concerned about preparing the festival rather participating and finding a partner. Maybe the next one."

The chief laughed off the comment and dismissed the knight, who retreated with a mob of children still trailing him. "He's a good boy, but he's determined to drown himself in his work."

"That's his choice," his daughter put simply, "but you're right. It's a shame. He's such a kind man. He could have so much more than training."

Cinnabar smiled and nodded absently for a moment before a thought struck him. A devious idea. Still smiling, he sat up quickly, cupped his hands at his mouth, and yelled to the puff surrounded by kids, "GALACTA, COME HAVE DINNER WITH US!"

Scoria clapped a hand over her father's mouth, and a surprised Galacta Knight tripped over a rock and hit the dirt. Both their faces were red and hot as fire.

[A few years later...]

The entryway of the newly cleaned Lor Starcutter opened, and Galacta Knight quickly dashed inside. Scoria followed soon after, much more wary and tightly clutching a sleepy bundle in her hands. The knight had spent several months digging up and repairing the ancient treasure, a starship built by their ancestors. Many thought the machine was only a myth, so the village was ecstatic when Galacta and a group of students stumbled upon the wreckage by accident. He along with a few scholars decided to fix and study it. Such technology could change their lives, or perhaps teach them to travel among the stars themselves (not that any of them actually wanted to). After a stressful day, Galacta liked to bring his family to the ship and explore. The Puffball was enthralled by the ship, as was his curious child, but Scoria was much less impressed. She hated the thing. She made the same remark at every entry:

"I don't like it. It feels off... Like an angry thing that will bite when you get too close."

Galacta would only roll his eyes, "It was a strange aura, I admit, but it's just because it's unlike anything we have. This is technology from a forgotten time, abandoned by our ancestors. It's part of our history."

"What if it was abandoned for a reason?" She quickly countered, "We have no records of what it was like, only rumors that our people had it. It might not even be ours." Scoria paused for a moment to put her cub onto the floor to play a stuffed toy. Magolor mewled for attention for a second before getting distracted by the toy and promptly pouncing on it and biting its head.

His father chuckled at the sight before turning back to his partner, "I understand what you mean, but think of the good it could do for us. We could learn to make our own ships. This planet is volcanic, after all. A chain reaction could tear it apart in hours. This is a perfect opportunity for us."

"I know, I know. You're right," She sighed, "I'm worrying too much. I just can't help it. I always worry that the instant I relax, something will go wrong. I-" She cast a glance at their surviving child wrestling a toy into submission. "I don't want to lose anything else. If I do, I'll go mad."

Galacta's expression turned serious under the mask, and he quickly brought Scoria into an embrace, "We've lost a lot in a short amount of time, and we're both still hurting, but that stops now, understand? I will not let anything else happen to my family. I will do anything to keep you both safe. If it means testing foreign technology, so be it." He lifted his mask for a moment to give her a quick kiss before withdrawing. "Wait right here. I'll get our picnic basket, and we'll have a nice lunch together as a family."

She chuckled as he ran out of the ship, determined to cheer her up. Scoria was sure that was the intention of the visit, to reassure her that no matter what, everything would turn out okay. He probably made those stupid heart-shaped sandwiches again, too. Very few Halcandrans had the pleasure of seeing what a dork the knight was. She was happy to admit that he was her dork. She had admired him from afar for years until her father convinced her to act. Apparently the knight felt the same way, and they had been together ever since.

A light turned on behind her, and Scoria turned around to face the usually dark screen in the ships main room. The screen bathed the room in a blue-green glow. She squinted her eyes and hissed involuntarily at the artificial light, something she had never experienced before. The mother quickly scooped up her playing child, ignoring his squeaks of protest. She watched the screen in silence as words began to slowly, as though words had been temporarily forgotten:

I CAN SEE YOU

I DO NOT WANT YOU HERE

Scoria's fur was standing on end as she backed out of the room. Her body quaked as the last lines were typed out faster and faster.

YOU BROUGHT THE BETRAYER TO ME

YOU HAVE DOOMED US ALL

IF YOU BRING THE BOY HERE AGAIN

IWILLKILLYOU

[That Day]

"This is the only one left!"

"NO! I won't go without you!"

Mountains crumpled as the massive drills of the invading ship plunged into the ground. The planet quaked helplessly as the deafening sound sent all the wild creatures into hiding. Galacta glanced behind him long enough to see four Malacans and one Puffball get cornered by a strange walking machine piloted by a creature he was not familiar with. The puff hacked at the leg of the machine with his axe only to get stepped on as it reached down and grabbed the fearful Halcandrans. They clawed desperately at the metal hands as they were taken away. Their screams and wails of suffering made the knight's heart ache, but he could not rescue them and protect his family at the same time. Not without the risk of losing one or the other.

"The Starcutter is the only safe place left! You have to go now!"

Scoria hissed back at him, "I won't sit in a metal thing while you throw your life away! The ship above us is as big as our planet! You could never stop it!"

"I have to try!" The knight yelled back over the noise of breaking rock and caterwauling, "I can't let strangers kill my people!"

She shook her head and grabbed his shoulder with a free hand, "I can't let you die either! You have a son, and he needs a father!" The Malacan clung to her baby Magolor, who trembled in fear.

"I have to guarantee his safety," he countered while pushing her towards the doorway of the ancient vessel, "If there is a chance that I can save Halcandra, I'll take it!"

His partner looked hurt but not particularly surprised, "So you'd rather be a hero? You would leave us to go on a suicide mission? For once, can you just forget about work?!"

"Would you rather I hide and let everyone die? I won't be a coward!" He let her go once she was inside the ship, "I'll come find you. I promise." He avoided her glare and addressed the ship, "Find a safe place for my son to grow up."

The ship began to activate, and the door began to close. Scoria shouted at him a final time, voice strained with tears, "You better find us, you bastard! When you do, I'll tear you apart! I'll never forgive you for this!"

The Lore Starcutter rose up into the sky, and with astounding speed, flew past the invading ships and vanished without a trace. Galacta Knight watched it go, regretting his stubbornness but still unwilling to change his mind. The knight spread his wings, readied his lance, and unleashed his fury on the nearest invaders. He smashed machines and swept the pilots away with whirlwinds of fire. He destroyed as many of the destroyers as he could. Galacta's memory became fuzzy at that point. He did not remember being brutal, but enemy blood was all over him. He did not remember tearing down the drills converting the landscape, but they were broken. He did not remember trying to revive a trapped Malacan, but there was a dead one in his arms. His mind was so blinded with rage and the need for bloody justice that he had forfeited self control and spent every spark of energy he had in his body. Galacta fought until his limbs began to seize up and his heart quivered in his chest as it fought to keep beating.

The knight did not recall passing out, but he was suddenly aware that everything was quiet for the first time in a long time. The massive ship was gone, and so was everything else. All the villages were destroyed, and the ruins were empty. Wild animals had taken away most of the bodies, but Galacta buried what was left. Over the course of two weeks, he explored all the Halcandran territories looking for survivors and supplies. This was not over. Not at all. Many of the enemy machines were still lying around, and he was confident that he could fix something suitable for space travel. He wanted to sob and mourn for his people and his home, but that would not help anyone. It was not too late yet. The Halcandrans had built five ships of their own based on the Lore Starcutter, and four of them escaped the invasion. More people still were taken by the strangers, and he could only assume they were kept alive for a reason. His partner and child also survived the chaos, though Scoria would probably attack him on sight now. Regardless, he had to find them. All of them. He would search forever. He would search every star he could find, every galaxy he could see, and every dimension he could reach. Galacta Knight would find his family and his people, and right his wrongs by killing off all the sick bastards that dared to threaten them.

This would never happen again.

Not while he was still alive.