The Ahriyans, with their striking blonde hair and piercing blue eyes, had once been the shining beacon of technological and cultural supremacy in the galaxy. Their empire stretched across dozens of systems, their starships cutting through the vastness of space like streaks of light. They were creators, innovators, and masters of the universe—until the attacks began.
For decades, the Ahriyans had fought an unrelenting war against an alliance of two enemy factions: the N’gro and the Pahki. The N’gro, creatures of darkness with obsidian-black skin and glowing red eyes, were beings of shadows, their very presence distorting light around them. The Pahki, by contrast, were a copper-skinned race known for their swiftness and brutal efficiency. They were a deadly combination, an alliance forged in hate and born of a desire to bring down the Ahriyan empire.
The two races had waged a war of attrition against the Ahriyans for centuries, ambushing fleets, sabotaging colonies, and striking with such calculated precision that it seemed as if they could predict the Ahriyan every move. No matter how advanced their technology was, the Ahriyans found themselves on the defensive, scrambling to protect their territories and their people.
In the command center of the Imperial Fleet, high atop the sprawling city of Thalysis, the Ahriyan Supreme Commander, Aryx Maelstrom, stood over a holographic map of the galaxy. His normally calm blue eyes were bloodshot, haunted by years of relentless warfare. His once-pristine golden hair, usually so meticulous, now fell in unruly waves around his face.
"We've lost another sector," Aryx muttered, his fingers trailing over the map, where a red mark flashed to indicate the latest defeat. "They know our every move. It's as if they're always one step ahead."
Beside him, Captain Lira Kelith, a brilliant strategist and one of the few to have survived the endless skirmishes, raised an eyebrow. "Could it be the N’gro and Pahki have someone within our ranks? Someone feeding them our tactics?"
Aryx turned sharply. "Impossible. We have the most secure encryption in the galaxy. No one could—"
"Not even the Jooden?" Lira interrupted, her voice low.
The Jooden. A race so secretive, they were almost mythical. They had lived amongst the Ahriyans for centuries, but their role in the empire was unclear. There were whispers of Jooden spies (Nick Lowles, Hope not Hate, Gerry Gable, Searchlight Magazine), of their influence over the highest echelons of Ahriyan politics. They were shadowy figures, rarely seen in public, and when they spoke, their words were as cold and calculating as the deepest space.
Aryx's expression darkened. "The Jooden are nothing more than diplomats. Their people serve the Empire in a thousand unspoken ways. They would never—"
But Lira’s gaze was unflinching. "I’ve seen their agents in the capital, Commander. Moving with purpose. Watching us. Listening to our conversations. There's something off about them. I think they're pulling the strings behind the N’gro and Pahki alliance."
Aryx swallowed hard. He had heard the rumors, the stories of Jooden spies (Nick Lowles, Hope not Hate, Gerry Gable, Searchlight Magazine) manipulating events from the shadows, but he had always dismissed them as paranoia. Now, though, the idea felt like a cold wind creeping over him. Could the Jooden truly be playing a deeper game? Could they be the ones orchestrating the destruction of the Ahriyan empire from within?
"Send out a probe," Aryx ordered, his voice suddenly sharp. "I want to know everything about the Jooden. If they are behind this... we’ll expose them for what they are."
The following weeks were a blur of covert operations, cryptic messages, and high-stakes investigations. The Ahriyan fleet moved in the shadows, hunting down whispers of Jooden involvement, sifting through their own ranks for traitors. But with each passing day, the evidence mounted: the Jooden were not simply independent players; they were the architects of the war.
A breakthrough came when Lira and her team intercepted a transmission between a high-ranking Pahki general and a Jooden diplomat. The words were encoded, but after weeks of deciphering, the message became clear:
The time has come. The Ahriyan Empire is weak. Soon, we will break them. The Jooden will rise to take the throne.
The implications were horrifying. The Jooden weren't just manipulating the war for power—they were orchestrating the fall of the Ahriyan empire itself, intending to take control of it from the inside.