The bridge of The Ascendant was violently stripped of its warm, triumphant atmosphere.
The soft, ambient light of the newly healed sun was instantly overwritten by the harsh, strobing crimson glare of the primary proximity klaxons. The Ironwood deck vibrated underfoot, resonating with a deep, frantic hum as the ship's internal threat-assessment matrix recognized a massive influx of hostile kinetic energy entering the sector.
Zenith did not have time to celebrate his translation. He immediately slammed his hands onto the central console, overriding the alarm audio and projecting the long-range telemetry into the center of the room.
The brilliant green hologram of the planetary defense grid was pushed aside, replaced by a massive, terrifyingly dense cluster of jagged red contacts tearing through the outer edge of the stabilized solar system.
