Major Sokt’mar’s uniform didn’t fit right. Logically, he knew it was perfectly tailored to his body, but news like this seemed to make the material tighten in ways it shouldn’t. He wasn’t capable of perspiration like many species in the Stygiboran Empire, but nonetheless, he was keenly aware of the smart cloth digging into his joints as he walked along the gangway that would bring him to the command center of Bai’lent—the primary Scaladorian base of military operations.
The news—what little there was—wasn’t good. At best, Captain Took’Sar and his shipment of soldiers and gravitrum were running late because of the multitude of administrative corrections needed in the Naraxian mines. At worst, the Captain had stolen the ship, crew, and its cargo and had run away from the empire. It wouldn’t be unheard of. Part of the reason gravitrum was such a heavily regulated commodity was how often low-level officers—unsatisfied with the direction their life was going—tried stunts like this.
These traitors were always caught, citing their discontent with the government and its choices. Left, Right, or Center, someone was always angry about the state of things and refused to step back and try to understand the opposition. The Stygibora were often content to allow the Scaladorians a modicum of self-governance, so long as certain laws remained in place, no matter how outdated or irrelevant.
That was the reason the Scaladorian navy even bothered to retrieve these traitors. The first law ever put in place by their overseers was inflexible, and any deviation would result in heavy consequences. All collection of the element known as Gravitrum is to be reported to the Stygiboran hive mind and turned over for redistribution. It was the reason no ship in the entire Scaladorian fleet had access to a single gram more than was absolutely necessary to get to the destination and back. When a captain fled their duty station, a search pattern had to be drawn up by military tacticians using calculations based on their faster-than-light capabilities at the time of launch.
A sensor in the gangway read Sokt’mar’s identification and opened a conference room door a few meters away. A soft muttering floated out, signifying that General Kriz’Nit Far had company. With today being the expected delivery date of the gravitrum, Sokt’mar could only assume the person inside was another general. After receiving the last bad report, Captain Took'sar had personally led the expedition to Narax. Today, well… if today didn’t end with someone breaking one of his limbs, Sokt'mar would be surprised.
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“Enter.” General Kriz’nit Far’s summoned the reluctant major after a few moments.
“Good morning, sir,” Sokt’mar said, rubbing his antennae together anxiously. Inside the room, two generals stood around a holographic projection of the Scaladorian holdings, with data representing the current supply levels and minimum requirements to maintain functionality.
“We’ll need to move some from Mas’nael to Granj’alik. While the human population does an incredible job of making new product at an incredibly low cost, the last of the old working stock on Granj’alik died a few weeks ago and we have no more to replace their farmers.” General Croc’set Jak said, pointing to a series of numbers representing the current food supply across their section of the empire.
“Fine. I don’t like it, but I understand why it’s important. Out people can’t pick up weapons to fight if their stomachs are empty.” Kriz’nit Far said before turning his attention to the major standing in the doorway. “And how do the Gravitrum reports look today?”
Sokt’mar cleared his throat nervously and approached the holographic display. “Not good, sir.”
“Of course they don’t,” Croc’set Jak sighed, “the captain swore he’d find an answer, but just like everyone else trying to squeeze blood from that stone, there is nothing left to find.”
Falling rates of production had been a concern of the Scaladorian military for quite some time. It seemed that ever since the humans had taken up residency of the prison on Narax, there was little gravitrum to be found. However, there was little fear of foul play, especially since this trend started nearly a century ago. Considering the humans only ate if they produced a piece of the rare mineral, the likelihood of anything being hidden away was slim to none.
“That’s not the problem today, sirs.” Sokt’mar said slowly, “While productions numbers are a concern, there is a larger issue at hand.”
Upon hearing this, both generals raised questioning antennae and stared at the messenger, waiting for him to continue.
“Sirs,” Sokt’mar cleared his throat, “Captain Took’sar has gone missing. Our last radio transmission was only a fraction of the way to Narax. Based on historical data and secret recordings of his conversations, I believe he’s defected. We need to initiate a search pattern.”
