"Damn it—ugh—!" Alarms flared. The ship twisted violently. Warning lights bathed the cockpit in red.
Another barrage approached.
A final curse escaped the pilot's lips—then nothing but silence as the ship exploded.
Shards scattered across space, but among the chaos… something glowed with power. Unyielding.
"Space control to HQ, we have destroyed the fleeing target. Thank Raven!" He released the transmitter, sagging in relief.
But he didn't have a moment to breathe.
Suddenly, a streak of black and dark purple energy lanced through the remains of the shuttle. Another panel exploded, flinging sparks and molten shrapnel into the corridor. Sirens shrieked. A voice—desperate, controlled—crackled over the intercom, issuing commands.
"Squadron 57, fall back to formation Delta! Shields up! Prepare to receive backup from Escort Ship 33—reroute all firepower to the port side! Maintain distance, maintain distance!"
In the hangar, the officer ran to the viewport, seeing the second escort shuttle wheel into position outside. "33, this is Alpha. Hostile is not neutralized. Repeat: hostile is not neutralized. Prepare to deploy all available drones!"
"Copy that 57. Deploying automated defense grid. All hands, battle stations!" barked another voice, this one clipped and professional. Red strobes flashed through the corridors, illuminating soldiers rushing to their posts.
Outside, the stars blurred. Something moved—a blur of violet, a comet of darkness. Then the sensors locked on, and all eyes turned to her.
"Oh no… it's Komand'r." The officer, watching the dark figure descend slowly into his ship.
The one who hovered above the shattered hull was Komand'r—Blackfire.
Even among the battle-hardened soldiers, they knew taking down this person was no easy feat to say the least. Her presence demanded attention, fear, and something deeper—a primal admiration.
She wore a skin-tight mini skirt in a shimmering, metallic black, cut high to show off long, toned legs that seemed to go on forever, ending in high, armored boots. Her thighs were hugged by gleaming violet leggings, drawing the eye upward to the audacious curve of her hips and the fullness of her ass—perfectly shaped, proud, swaying with every movement. Her torso was clad in a black crop top, exposing a sliver of firm, hard rock abs. Her breasts were large and perfectly round, defiant against the clingy fabric, straining the top with every steady breath.
Her hair—a deep, iridescent purple—spilled over her shoulders, wild and untamed, haloed by a faint corona of black energy. Her skin glowed with an exotic warmth, kissed by starlight and shadow, while her eyes blazed a deep, terrifying violet, it leaked out like fire.
The squad's discipline faltered for a moment, soldiers taking in the impossible beauty of a woman who radiated both royalty and absolute danger. Blackfire looked disgusted, her lips curled in a sneer as she activated her black bolt shield, energy coalescing around her in a protective, shimmering dome.
Her gaze swept the bridge, landing on the officer she'd once called General.
"You!" Her voice was a whip, sharp and contemptuous. "You were my General, and now you bend the knee to corrupted Green Lanterns, all in the name of some false goddess? Where is your loyalty?" The energy in her eyes flickered, leaking like fire, her power crackling in the vacuum, making every soldier on the bridge shrink a little further back.
The officer's hand shook as he raised his plasma pistol, sweat beading on his brow despite the cold. He stammered, but Blackfire cut him off, continuing as if she hadn't noticed.
"And how dare you speak my name so casually? Have you forgotten who I am?"
At last, the officer's pride flared. "AND SO WHAT? You people of royal descent, you don't understand! Power changes hands. How does it feel, hehe. You held your head so high, you forgot what it's like for us below. In the slums, things change—sometimes overnight. But you would never know that."
Blackfire let out a tired sigh, the purple fire in her eyes dying down as her shield flickered out. With deliberate calm, she closed her eyes and stretched a hand toward a hole from her destruction in the hull, sealing it with a burst of black bolt energy before stepping down onto the deck.
Soldiers, still in their oxygen masks, quickly removed them—yet their weapons stayed trained on her.
"You think the affairs of peasants concern me?" she asked coldly, folding her arms.
"I know they don't," the officer spat. "That's why no one here is loyal to you. You need your subjects as much as they need you."
"Submit to the goddess. Hope for mercy. There is progress now—unlike before. Back at home, things are better. Why would we want to go back to the old days?" The officer's confidence was returning, now that he had his platoon behind him.
Blackfire lowered her head. "I see…" she murmured.
She raised her chin, eyes scanning the faces. "So, you would rather be ruled by foreigners than your own people?" She stalked among them, her steps measured.
"That's the limitation of you peasants. You lack knowledge. The people I put in charge of you supply food, protection—but what about your education? Did you ever wonder where the funding for your schools came from? How many times did I personally signed those decrees?"
She was met with uncertain glances, soldiers shifting their feet.
"And yet, when the leaders I assign fleece you for profit, when you're denied what you need—where was this sudden confidence to challenge them? Where was it then?"
She stopped, arms behind her back, voice rising. "You're comfortable being fed and protected. As long as you get the bare minimum, you won't fight back."
Murmurs rippled through the ranks. One soldier found his courage. "Of course we're not comfortable! But if one of us speaks up, we're killed. You think it's easy on Tamara?"
Blackfire laughed—a sharp, bitter sound that echoed down the corridors. "Am I funny to you?" The annoyed soldier challenged.
The annoyed soldier stepped forward, ignoring his officer's shouted order. He was young, brave or foolish, but anger blazed in his eyes.
Blackfire loomed over him even while on the ground, she was rather tall. Her height and presence intimidating as she grabbed his collar and yanked him off his feet faster than he could react, holding him so close he could see the burning galaxies in her eyes.
"Of course it's not easy, peasant! Do you think it was easy for me? That I was born to rule Tamaran with no challenge? Just because one person dies, you all clam up and call it a day? How do you expect change? How do you enact the reality you want—by folding your hands and complaining?"
The purple glow in her eyes intensified. She tossed him back to his squad.
"Peasant behavior!" she spat, turning her back on them with disdain.
The officer watched, seething. 'I underestimated her. She's shaking the morale of my troops… Maybe we were too hasty in jumping ship. No, no, no! Even now she is getting to me! But… Maybe we can be the resistance… the change we want.'
Blackfire turned, a sly smile gracing her lips. The officer's fists clenched.
"You stupid bastards! She's our oppressor—have you forgotten?" he screamed, voice cracking. "Cease her! No—destroy her now!"
A line of soldiers levelled weapons at Blackfire. Others hesitated. The officer, infuriated, shot one of his own men who didn't obey. That snapped the rest to attention and they opened fire as one.
Blackfire grinned wickedly. "See? See what I'm talking about?"
She moved, a living storm. In a blur, she dodged plasma bolts, weaving through the hail of death with impossible agility. Her fist shattered the first rifle, elbow crunching into the soldier's helmet. She spun, kneeing another in the chest so hard he flew across the deck, smashing into a bulkhead. She ducked, her leg sweeping out to knock four men off their feet. Rising in the same breath, she drove an open palm into a soldier's throat, dropping him instantly, then caught another's wrist, twisting the weapon away before smashing him with her forehead. Her foot lashed out in a roundhouse, cracking armor and bone. She darted to the next, delivering a punishing uppercut that sent a tooth spinning into the air. Grabbing two by the heads, she slammed them together with sickening force, then threw their limp bodies aside. Someone tried to stab her; she caught the blade barehanded, twisted, and drove it through the attacker's own leg. Rolling over a fallen body, she hurled herself at the next rank, hands and feet moving in a blur of violence—snapping, crushing, breaking, moving too fast for any eye to follow.
Fifteen bodies lay sprawled before the rest even realized what had happened. Blood splattered the walls, smoke from broken weapons filled the air, and Blackfire stood, holding the severed head of a soldier, her skin spattered crimson, her breath unbroken.
She grinned, baring white teeth.
"See how your officer kills those who disobey? Take your freedom, take your chance, and capture the escort ship for me now—or you will meet the same fate." Her tone was mocking, regal, utterly sure of herself. "I haven't even used my powers yet."
The survivors looked at the carnage, then at each other. Their courage broke, and in a rush, they abandoned their officer, swarming across the bridge to the remaining shuttle like desperate pirates.
Blackfire faced the officer, rolling the bloodied head toward his boots.
He stared, shaking, as explosions rocked the second shuttle.
"What do you want?" he whispered.
Blackfire stalked toward him. "Give me your star system mapping logs."
The officer fumbled with trembling hands, downloading the data into a small portable drive. He handed it to her, eyes wide.
"Here you go," he whispered.
"Hmm, what a ragtag group you have. They can't even secure a ship." Blackfire said as she looked through the windows of the ship to find it destroyed in the process of the soldiers trying to acquire it.
Blackfire checked the device, then smiled coldly. Without hesitation, she raised her hand and fired a bolt of black energy straight through his skull.
He collapsed. Blackfire barely spared him a glance.
"Time to leave," she muttered, shrouding herself in a cocoon of black bolt energy. The shield shimmered, then, with a crack of displaced air, she blasted through the hull into open space.
In a distant stronghold, far from the battlefield, Starfire's eyes fluttered open. She had been watching through the officer's senses, experiencing the horror and awe of her sister's rampage.
"Oh my goodness… that's… that's my sister," she whispered, trembling. Through Raven's new, all-seeing network of conquered minds, Starfire could sense everything. Her sister's power, her ruthlessness, her fury—a storm on the horizon. Even though she had gained so much power, the trauma and fear of her sister still lingered.
And to answer the age old question since the very first ten chapters... I bring you, Blackfire, even more badass.
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