15 Cron

Her metal hands clasped together, “Please, Father,” she begged. “The people of this planet have done nothing to deserve such a fate. They are innocent.”

Cron looked down at his daughter, his heart torn. He knew how much Annikin cared for her friend on the planet, and he didn’t want to cause her any pain. But he also had to consider the wishes of his crew and the mission they pursued.

“Annikin, I understand your concern, but this is far more important than friendship,” Cron said firmly.

“But Father, surely there is a way to spare this planet and still fulfill our mission,” Annikin persisted. “Can’t you see how much it means to me? Please, I beg of you.”

Cron sighed and ran a hand through his hair of blue flame. He knew that Annikin rarely asked him for anything, and he hated to see her so distressed.

“Very well,” he said finally. “I will see what I can do to spare this planet. But I cannot make any promises.”

Annikin’s smooth face lit up with joy and she threw her arms around her father’s neck in gratitude. “Thank you, Father,” she said, the cool metal a familiar touch to his leathery skin.

Her metal feet made a tinny sound as he set her back down. A toil of his own creation, made to accompany him in his journey across the stars. Little did he know how much she had kept him sane.

The discourse over the planet was just; his drive to quench the rebellion had an undeniably positive impact in interstellar diplomacy. But Annikin was right. There could be another way.

As he sat atop his throne, the helm of the spaceship, he pondered. He must experience this planet for himself.

“Annikin,” He called after her, the gunmetal gray figure pausing. Her featureless countenance turned up to him again. Ever since she visited the planet, her body had been adorned with colorful clothes, gifts from the locals.

“Take me to them. Your friends,” He rose out of his seat, his ungainly height unused to standing after so long. She ran up to him and hugged around his leg. She was so small when she wasn’t standing on his lap.

“Thank you, thank you,” She burbles, her expressionless face unable to hide the elation she felt. Over the years, her body language was more than enough for her Father to tell exactly how she felt.

“I just want to see it for myself, dearest,” He couldn’t promise anything yet. The fate of his empire, the peace of the galaxy, depended on his decisions. He needed to do what was right.

The teleporter shimmered, light swirling around them in a dance as they left the Corsair and reformed on the planet’s surface. She threw her arms up and basked in the mid-morning sun. She was quite literally aglow, her reflective metal spectacular. He could already tell that she loved it here. Even the flame on his head perked up, the fresh atmosphere allowing it to burn brightly.

A paradise. Caught in the middle of conflict. It really would be quite a shame to see it all go. The flora, the fauna. They had no involvement in the interstellar scuffle.

It wasn’t long until a few of the folk came out, wary of the stranger that accompanied their friend. She seemed comfortable around the giant blue monster. She chittered to them in their native language. Cron brought out an earpiece, able to translate the unfamiliar speech.

”- my father, Lord Cron,” She finished, gesturing with a wide grin. The adults stepped back, but the children had no reason to be afraid. They wouldn’t know the name, unless the parents told fairy tales of the one who flew the Corsair and conquered the stars.

A few parents grabbed the arm of their children, but the ones who knew exactly what this meant didn’t bother. If Lord Cron was on their planet, it would only be too late when he left. The planet destroyer wouldn’t destroy while still on it.

A particularly brave individual approached the towering alien. Above his head, he offered a simple bracelet. A surprising fit, Cron nodded in appreciation as it adorned his skinny wrist. His long, slender fingers patted the child on the head. He must be one of the close friends of his daughter, because he ran over to her and gave her a hug. They held hands and ran to the others. As he followed at a reasonable distance, the slowly growing crowd parted.

The most powerful monster, peacefully strolling through their quaint village. Their technology is rudimentary, focusing more on the arcane to subsist. In balance with nature, a good sign. No overexploitation, but fostering growth and peace. From a small scale, this planet wasn’t so bad. It’s possible that it was a lucky landing on a rural community. He has to see more.

He walked up to the clan leader’s hut. Of course his kid made friends with the village leader’s son. That’s how it works in all the storybooks, anyway. Art reflects life.

The leader steps out, a gray old satyr. She has quite the impressive beard, long as she is wise. His hand wraps around her dainty paw in greeting, his new bracelet catching her eye. A kind smile, a gentle sparkle in the misty eyes. He has Annikin translate, his intentions clear. The problems of the planet are not on the surface, she lets on. Underground, a demon grows.

Whoever is drawing the attention of his empire is trying to hide what’s really going on. How long they’ve been operating under the surface is unknown, so they may be more prepared than his army could handle. The Corsair was brought out when left with no options.

“A demon… This couldn’t be arcane magic, could it?” He asks his daughter. Would she know what this planet holds?

Her head swivels no, not arcane. A word doesn’t translate, but gets passed around the room as she says it, caution on the local’s faces. Bisma. Alien Magic. Magic of the stars. Magic from otherkind, corrupt. It rots the planet’s core.

He reaches up to his flame, scooping a lick of fire off his head. It swirls around his palm, dancing and flickering. It can feel the surface magic, happy and excited. He scoops a hole in the ground and places it at the bottom. The blue flame turns red and weeps. Its strength is sapped, then turns black. It grows, sparking and becoming a raging fire. He stomps it out before it gets out of hand. His suspicion was correct.

They were luring the Corsair. A magic that feeds off of others, redirecting and becoming stronger. Attempting to destroy the planet would be feeding the very bomb that could wipe out a solar system.