Chapitre 22: INTERCEPTED LOG GALACTIC COUNCIL
Galactic Council War Room:
The sprawling Galactic Council War Room hummed with barely restrained energy. Representatives from countless civilizations filled the chamber, their holographic projections shimmering in the dim light. At the center of the room, the image of Cybertron rotated slowly, a grim reminder of the devastation wrought by Galvatron and his Decepticons.
High Arbiter Delan stood at the head of the assembly, his pale, humanoid face set in grim determination. The murmurs of dissent and frustration swirled around him like a storm, each voice a cacophony of anger, fear, and desperation.
"We cannot allow this affront to go unanswered!" bellowed Arvid Skhal, a towering figure from the Vraug Coalition. His armored form gleamed under the chamber's lights, and his guttural voice carried across the room. "Galvatron has obliterated one of our fleets. The Council's inaction has emboldened him!"
"And what would you have us do?" hissed Lian-Tyr, a serpentine delegate from the Dracon Syndicate. Her scales glimmered like molten gold as she coiled around her dais. "Throw more fleets into the void for him to crush? Our ships are stretched thin as it is."
Arvid's fists slammed against his podium, the sound reverberating through the room. "We must consolidate our forces, form a grand fleet capable of overwhelming him!"
"And who will command this fleet?" countered the insectoid Xaltan representative, her mandibles clicking with irritation. "Certainly not the Vraug, who barely held their lines in the last engagement."
"Enough," High Arbiter Delan said, his voice cutting through the din like a blade. The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him. "We face an unprecedented threat. Galvatron's resurgence has destabilized the balance of power in the galaxy. If we fail to act decisively, we risk the annihilation of everything we have built."
He gestured toward the holographic display, which shifted to show the Decimator unleashing its devastating superweapon. The violet beam sliced through the Galactic Council fleet, reducing entire capital ships to ash. Gasps rippled through the chamber as the footage replayed.
"This is the power we are up against," Delan continued. "A weapon capable of annihilating entire fleets. Galvatron has unified the Decepticons under his banner, and his ambitions will not end with Cybertron. If we allow him to grow unchecked, he will come for us all."
The room buzzed with uneasy murmurs as delegates exchanged worried glances. Delan allowed the silence to stretch for a moment before speaking again.
"Therefore, I propose the formation of a Galactic Defense Coalition," he said. "A unified force drawn from all member civilizations. Together, we can pool our resources, technology, and manpower to create a fleet capable of challenging Galvatron."
The chamber erupted into chaos as delegates voiced their objections.
"You expect us to trust our fleets in the hands of other species?" demanded the Taren Commonwealth representative, his voice tinged with distrust. "What's to stop one of our 'allies' from using this coalition to seize power for themselves?"
"Unity is our only chance at survival," Delan replied firmly. "Galvatron's forces have already outpaced our individual militaries. We must put aside our differences if we are to stand a chance."
"And what of the Autobots?" asked a small, rodent-like delegate from the Varx Compact. "They are Cybertronians too. Should we not reach out to them for aid?"
The suggestion hung in the air, met with a mix of shock and disdain. Lian-Tyr's serpentine form writhed with agitation. "The Autobots are no better than the Decepticons," she hissed. "They have waged war across the stars for centuries. Bringing them into our ranks would be inviting chaos."
"And yet they have fought against the Decepticons for just as long," countered Delan. "They are the only faction with firsthand experience of Galvatron's tactics. Their insight could prove invaluable."
As the debate raged on, a figure stepped forward from the shadows at the edge of the chamber. Tall and imposing, clad in ceremonial armor that gleamed with ancient runes, High Admiral Kael Varn of the Drelian Ascendancy commanded immediate attention. His silver eyes scanned the room, and when he spoke, his voice was calm but unyielding.
"The Arbiter is correct," Varn said. "If we are to defeat Galvatron, we must unite under a single banner. The Drelian Ascendancy offers its fleets and resources to the Galactic Defense Coalition. But I will not place my trust in a fractured council. This coalition needs a leader—someone with the experience and resolve to see this war through."
A ripple of unease spread through the chamber. "And you propose yourself, I assume?" Lian-Tyr said, her voice dripping with skepticism.
"I do," Varn replied without hesitation. "I have commanded fleets across three campaigns against the K'rivon Hegemony. I understand the intricacies of interstellar warfare. And unlike many in this room, I am not afraid to make the difficult decisions required to ensure victory."
His words hung in the air, their weight undeniable. Slowly, delegates began to murmur their agreement. The Xaltan representative clicked her mandibles in approval. "If anyone can lead us to victory, it is High Admiral Varn."
"Very well," Delan said, nodding toward Varn. "If there are no objections, High Admiral Kael Varn will assume command of the Galactic Defense Coalition. Let us proceed with the formation of this alliance."
The holographic table in the Galactic Council War Room pulsed with energy, displaying a fragmented map of the galaxy. Dozens of sectors flashed red, signaling territory either lost to Decepticon influence or under immediate threat of destabilization. The enormity of the crisis loomed over every delegate present.
High Arbiter Delan stood at the center, his expression grim. "This is the situation we face," he said, gesturing toward the map. "Galvatron's forces have already begun their expansion. Cybertron's neighboring sectors report significant Decepticon activity—raiding supply depots, targeting key outposts, and eliminating resistance. His ambitions are clear. If we fail to act now, the galaxy will burn."
The room was silent, the weight of his words pressing down on the delegates. High Admiral Kael Varn broke the stillness, his voice commanding yet measured. "To face Galvatron, we must first secure alliances. No single species can stand against the Decepticons alone, but together, we may have a chance."
---
The Call for Unity
Delan nodded, turning his attention to the delegates. "We are dispatching emissaries to every corner of the galaxy. Our goal is to forge alliances with every willing civilization. Trade partners, neutral factions, even ancient rivals—no stone can be left unturned."
The suggestion drew murmurs of dissent. The Xaltan representative leaned forward, her mandibles clicking in frustration. "You expect us to align with species we've been at odds with for centuries? How can we trust them in such a fragile coalition?"
"We don't have to trust them completely," Varn interjected. "We only need them to fear Galvatron more than they distrust us. That fear will drive them to our side."
Lian-Tyr, the serpentine Dracon representative, coiled tighter around her dais. "Even so, we will need time—cycles, if not longer—to negotiate terms. Galvatron will not wait for us to prepare."
"No, he won't," Varn agreed, his silver eyes narrowing. "Which is why we must act with urgency. I will personally oversee the coalition-building efforts, ensuring no faction hesitates unnecessarily."
The Council's decision marked the beginning of a monumental undertaking. Fleets of diplomatic ships spread across the galaxy, each one carrying emissaries tasked with convincing hesitant civilizations to join the Galactic Defense Coalition. The challenges were immediate and numerous.
---
The Arkansis Protectorate
A delegation arrived at the Arkansis home fleet, a sprawling armada of nomadic ships known for their unparalleled stealth technology. The Arkansis, a race of insectoid warriors, were legendary for their hit-and-run tactics, but their isolationist nature made them difficult to approach.
As the Council's emissaries presented their case, the Arkansis Matriarch listened in silence. Her multifaceted eyes betrayed no emotion as she considered the proposal.
"You ask us to fight a war that is not ours," the Matriarch finally said, her voice a low, chittering hum. "Why should we risk our fleet for your cause?"
The lead emissary stepped forward. "Because if Galvatron is not stopped, his forces will consume all they encounter. You value survival above all else, Matriarch. Joining us is the only way to ensure your fleet endures."
The Matriarch's mandibles twitched in thought. "We will consider your offer. But know this—if your coalition falters, we will withdraw without hesitation."
---
The Skaar Dominion
The Skaar Dominion was a civilization built on conquest and brute strength. Their warships were massive, heavily armored, and bristling with weaponry, but their reputation for ruthlessness made them a controversial ally.
When the Council's emissaries arrived, they were met with suspicion. Skaar generals, towering reptilian figures clad in spiked armor, growled their discontent at the notion of cooperation.
"We are conquerors, not defenders," snarled General Krath, his claws tapping against the hilt of his plasma blade. "Why should we bend to the whims of weaker species?"
High Admiral Varn, who had personally accompanied this delegation, met Krath's gaze unflinchingly. "Because Galvatron will see you as a threat and crush you before you have the chance to retaliate. Join us, and you will stand as equals among the galaxy's most powerful forces."
Krath's eyes gleamed with intrigue. "Equals, you say? Prove your words, Admiral. We will join your coalition—on the condition that we are given command of the front-line assault."
Varn's lips curled into a faint smirk. "We will see."
---
The Solari Concordat
Unlike the Skaar or Arkansis, the Solari Concordat was a peaceful civilization, known for their groundbreaking advancements in energy and weaponry. Convincing them to support a war effort was no easy task.
The Solari High Chancellor, a frail yet brilliant humanoid with crystalline skin, listened intently as the emissaries described the threat Galvatron posed.
"You ask us to divert our research and resources toward destruction," the Chancellor said, her voice soft but firm. "Our principles forbid us from aiding in such endeavors."
"Chancellor," Varn said, stepping forward, "your principles will mean nothing if your civilization is reduced to ash. Galvatron's weaponry surpasses anything we've seen before. Your expertise is the only hope we have of countering it."
The Chancellor hesitated, her crystalline features flickering with doubt. "Very well. We will contribute our knowledge—but only in defense. We will not condone reckless aggression."
Not all negotiations went smoothly. Some factions refused outright, citing distrust of the Council or unwillingness to involve themselves in another galactic war. Others demanded exorbitant concessions, straining the coalition's resources.
In one particularly disastrous encounter, the emissaries to the Krevvon Hierarchy were detained and nearly executed, forcing Varn to divert a task force to rescue them. The incident sparked heated debates within the Council, with some questioning whether the effort was worth the cost.
"We cannot afford to lose focus," Delan reminded the assembly during an emergency session. "Every ally we secure is another step toward survival."
The flagship Eclipse drifted in the quiet void of deep space, its massive silhouette framed by the flickering light of distant stars. High Admiral Kael Varn stood on the bridge, his hands clasped tightly behind his back as he gazed at the assembled fleet before him. Hundreds of ships of varying designs and origins orbited in loose formations, their gleaming hulls reflecting the dim light of the system's binary stars.
It should have been a sight to inspire hope. Instead, it filled him with unease.
"Status report," Varn commanded, his voice cutting through the low hum of the bridge's systems.
One of the junior officers at a nearby console straightened. "Admiral, fleet integration is proceeding, but slowly. Coordinating maneuvers between species with such varied designs and technologies is proving... challenging."
Varn nodded, though his jaw tightened. The integration process was taking far longer than anticipated. While the coalition fleet had grown in size, its cohesion was another matter entirely. Species that had once been bitter rivals were now forced to fight side by side, and their lingering mistrust created fractures that no amount of discipline could fully mend.
"Admiral." A crisp voice broke his thoughts. His aide, a slender Drelian with a datapad tucked under one arm, approached with the stiff posture of someone bearing bad news. "Reports have just arrived from the frontier sectors."
Varn turned, his silver eyes narrowing. "What's the situation?"
The aide hesitated, a rare show of discomfort that made Varn's stomach twist. "Three outposts have fallen in the past two cycles. Galvatron's forces hit hard and fast—there were no survivors."
The words hung in the air like a shadow, darkening the already somber atmosphere of the bridge. Varn exhaled sharply, running a hand over his cropped hair. "Show me."
With a tap of the datapad, the holographic display in the center of the bridge shifted. The image of the coalition fleet dissolved, replaced by grainy footage from the destroyed outposts. The first clip showed a mining colony in flames, its defensive turrets obliterated. Dark shapes moved through the smoke—Decepticon forces, systematically dismantling any remaining resistance.
The second clip was even worse: a civilian spaceport, its once-bustling docks reduced to twisted metal. The camera feed trembled as its operator ran through a collapsing corridor, only to be cut short by a blinding explosion.
A heavy silence fell over the bridge. Varn's gaze lingered on the final frame, a crimson Decepticon emblem seared into the hull of a wrecked ship.
"He's testing us," Varn muttered, his voice low and bitter. "Probing our defenses, looking for weaknesses."
The aide stepped closer, lowering his voice so only Varn could hear. "With respect, sir, our fleets are not ready to confront him. Integration is months away from completion, and even then, it will take at least a solar year to fully coordinate operations."
"A year?" Varn turned to him sharply, his eyes blazing. "Galvatron won't give us that kind of time. He'll tear through our frontier before we can even deploy a unified response."
The aide shifted uncomfortably. "What are your orders, Admiral?"
Varn turned back to the holographic display, watching as the Decepticon insignia pulsed ominously over the fallen outposts. He felt the familiar weight of command settle over him, heavy as a planet's gravity.
"We hold the line with what we have," he said finally, his voice hard as steel. "Relay my orders to all member fleets. Fortify the border sectors immediately. Every station, every ship—prepare them for combat. No ground is to be ceded without a fight."
"Yes, Admiral," the aide replied, bowing slightly before hurrying off to relay the commands.
The days that followed were a flurry of activity as Varn's orders rippled across the coalition. On every member world, the urgency of the situation became painfully clear. Fleets scrambled to deploy to the frontier sectors, their commanders wrestling with logistical challenges and untested alliances.
Varn personally oversaw the preparations aboard the Eclipse. The flagship was a marvel of Drelian engineering, its sleek frame bristling with advanced weaponry and defensive systems. It had been designed for battle against the K'rivon Hegemony years ago, but now it would serve as the vanguard of the coalition's defense.
In the hangar bay, engineers worked tirelessly to retrofit alien ships with standardized communications arrays and targeting systems. Sparks flew as welders fused mismatched components, their work illuminated by the flickering glow of plasma torches. The atmosphere was tense but focused, the weight of the galaxy's survival driving them forward.
Varn strode through the hangar, inspecting the progress. He stopped beside a towering Arkansis warship, its angular hull etched with intricate patterns that glowed faintly in the dim light. A group of insectoid Arkansis technicians scurried around its landing gear, their movements precise and efficient.
"How long until it's combat-ready?" Varn asked, addressing the lead technician.
The Arkansis worker looked up, his multifaceted eyes reflecting the admiral's imposing figure. "Two more cycles, if the upgrades hold. Your systems are... less elegant than ours."
Varn allowed himself a faint smirk. "Functionality over elegance, my friend. We'll need every weapon operational when the time comes."
The technician clicked his mandibles in what might have been agreement before returning to his work.
---
Meanwhile, Varn made a point of addressing the various factions aboard the Eclipse. In the grand assembly hall, representatives from each species gathered to hear his speech. The tension in the room was palpable—centuries of mistrust and rivalry simmered just beneath the surface.
Varn stepped onto the dais, his presence commanding. He surveyed the crowd, letting the silence stretch before speaking.
"I understand your doubts," he began, his voice resonating through the hall. "Many of you have fought each other in the past. You carry the weight of old grudges, old wounds. But today, those grudges must be set aside."
He gestured toward the holographic map of the galaxy, now littered with red markers indicating Decepticon activity. "Galvatron doesn't care about your rivalries. He doesn't care about your history. To him, you are all the same—obstacles to be crushed beneath his heel."
The room was silent, the weight of his words sinking in. Varn stepped closer to the edge of the dais, his gaze piercing. "If we stand divided, we will fall. But if we stand together, united under a single banner, we can show Galvatron the true strength of this galaxy."
He raised a clenched fist. "Let him come. Let him test our resolve. We will meet him with fire and steel, and we will show him that this galaxy will not be broken!"
A rumble of agreement spread through the room, growing into a roar of approval. Even the most skeptical representatives found themselves nodding, their doubts momentarily overshadowed by the admiral's conviction.
As the assembly dispersed, Varn felt a glimmer of hope. The coalition was fragile, but it was a start. Now, all they needed to do was survive long enough to make it matter.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone