Intergalactic conquest with an AI

On her visor, a tactical radar shimmered to life. For just a moment, a cluster of energy signatures appeared; those signatures were strange, faint, but unmistakably real. At least ten... maybe twelve. Their power readings pulsed oddly, like unstable reactors, then vanished completely as if swallowed by the void.

The radar glitched and blinked out again. Static.

"...That wasn't friendly," Lyra muttered.

[Exactly,] Mini Cleo replied gravely. [Whatever that was, they weren't ours. They moved with precision... silent, fast, cloaked, and in perfect sync. That's not just some random glitch or battlefield echo. That's something else.]

Lyra narrowed her eyes. "Any idea who or what it could be?"

[No visual confirmation yet. My best guess? Elite infiltrators. Maybe something from the Collector or maybe even one of their experimental assassin teams. Worst case, it could be a proto-hybrid squad.]

Mini Cleo's tone was no longer playful. She was worried, and that.... that was rare.

Lyra rested a hand on the hilt of her whip, her other hand subconsciously touching the blood container on her back. "So... we've been watched?"

[Possibly. Or they're heading toward something or someone. Either way, we need to report this to the original right now.]

"Got it," Lyra replied, her playful smile now gone. "Let's move."

Moving like a whisper in the wind, Lyra gracefully navigated the ruins and broken buildings of the battlefield. Her body was cloaked in deep shadows, her breathing so calm it barely stirred the air.

She wasn't just hiding in the dark; what she had learned from the Blood Clan Elders went far beyond mere stealth. Her training had taken her to the edge of death and back, mastering the ancient assassination techniques passed down by her deadly kin.

These techniques allowed her to become one with the shadows, not just invisible to the eyes but to the senses. It didn't matter if the enemy had night vision or advanced scanners. Her art made her presence slip through the cracks of perception itself, like a ghost hunting in plain sight.

And she needed every bit of that skill now.

With every silent step, she followed the strange readings Mini Cleo had marked on her visor. These signals flickered in and out, sometimes vanishing completely, only to reappear a few moments later larger, stronger, and closer.

"Nothing yet, little general?" Lyra whispered under her breath, her eyes never leaving the shifting glow of the indicators.

[Not yet, little boss... Whatever is cloaking them is either an extremely advanced piece of tech, or they're running anti-hack protocols strong enough to block even the original Cleo. And that… that's saying something,] Mini Cleo responded, her digital voice filled with frustration and curiosity.

Lyra clicked her tongue softly. "That only leaves us with one real option then, doesn't it?"

Mini Cleo, floating near her shoulder in her cute holographic form, tilted her tiny head in confusion. [What are you thinking?]

Lyra smirked, raising one finger in the air. Her crimson eyes gleamed with dangerous intent. "Tell Cleo to lock onto my current position. I want her to prep the artillery and use me as the targeting beacon. If we can't find them… we'll just force them to show themselves."

[W-What?! Wait, wait, wait! You're serious!? That's totally reckless!]

But Lyra was already in motion.

With a sudden burst of speed, she darted across the rooftops, each leap silent and precise. When she finally reached a high vantage point near the source of the strange signals, she paused only for a moment. Then, in one fluid motion, she jumped high into the air with her arms crossed before snapping them open mid-fall.

From her outstretched hands, long shimmering needles of golden blood materialized; even though they were small, they were still sharp, deadly, and humming with power. They spiraled outward like a deadly rain, aimed precisely at where she suspected the enemy might be hiding.

Meanwhile, just moments earlier and several blocks away, the special Lizardman task force had been making its way around the battlefield. Their mission was clear, take down the Wraith-class drone carrier before it could do more damage.

The commander of the operation, a towering Lizardman known as Great Scale, had chosen a clever route. Rather than heading directly toward the drone carrier and risking exposure, he split his forces into several smaller platoons. Each group took a slightly different path, avoiding the main battle lines.

Their orders were simple. If they encountered a weak enemy, they were to overwhelm it quickly and move on. But if they ran into superior numbers, they were to disengage immediately and regroup later. Their goal wasn't to win a battle; it was to strike a critical blow.

And so, in the shadows of ruined buildings and smoke-covered streets, two predators hunted each other. One moved with silent elegance, cloaked in shadow and guided by data. The other crept forward with brute cunning, scales glistening, and weapons ready.

Neither knew they were just moments from colliding.

The moment Lyra's golden blood needles rained down from the sky, the Lizardmen reacted in an instant. They hissed, growled, and raised their scaled arms in defense, their sharp instincts kicking in.

But the needles weren't meant to pierce or kill, at least not this time. The Blood Clan assassins had a different purpose in mind with this move.

The needles splattered across their muscular bodies, leaving streaks and blotches of glowing golden liquid across their scales. Though their thick hide held firm against the impact, the shimmering blood clung to them like war paint.

Hidden under her hood and crouched on the rooftop, Lyra grinned.

"Knew it…" she whispered. "Even if they're cloaked, liquid can't go invisible. Got you now."

She activated her comms. "Cleo! Target confirmed—they're just Lizardmen! Bring the thunder!"

In a flash, she snapped her blood-whip around a broken antenna and launched herself upward to a nearby rooftop, just as one of the marked Lizardmen below roared out. "Hiss! There she is! The collector wants her! Catch that witch!"

He frantically tried to wipe the golden blood from his face, but every motion just smeared it further. And in doing so, he sealed his fate.

Because in the next heartbeat, the sky screamed.

From high above, the frigates answered Lyra's call. Artillery shells whistled down like angry gods. A thunderous explosion shattered the streets below, throwing rubble, flame, and charred bodies into the air.

The Lizardmen didn't stand a chance. Their bodies were torn apart before they could scatter, reduced to smoke and crimson mist.

Several streets away, deep in the skeleton of a crumbling warehouse, the commander of the operation, Great Scale, snarled at the sound.

"HISSS! Take cover—NOW!" He shouted out into his communicator, his voice rattling with fury and fear.

"To all squads near the blast zone, move out and investigate the detonation! Find the enemy and secure the objective!"

Meanwhile, Lyra groaned softly from beneath a pile of shattered debris. The blast had flung her across the rooftop and nearly sent her off the edge. Her cloak was scorched, and her ribs ached, but she was alive.

"Damn… Cleo really went all out that time…" she muttered while coughing as she pushed broken concrete off her shoulder.

[I recall that was your brilliant idea, little boss,] Mini Cleo's voice chimed in as she appeared again, hovering beside Lyra with her usual smug smile.

Lyra stood up slowly, brushing dust off her armor. "Yeah, yeah, I know it was my idea, but aren't you supposed to be the voice of reason here? Like, maybe stop me when I try doing something that suicidal?"

[Excuse me, I've been warning you non-stop for hours, and you never listen to me. You just grin and do whatever you want anyway.] Mini Cleo sighed and floated down onto Lyra's head like a smug digital fairy.

Then her tone shifted.

[Heads up. We're surrounded.]

Lyra's expression hardened as she grabbed her twin plasma pistols from her holsters. She activated them with a snap of her wrists, the barrels lighting up with dangerous heat.

"Yeah…" she whispered while narrowing her eyes. "I caught their scent a few seconds ago. Same musty stench... definitely more Lizardmen."

Figures emerged from the smoke and shadows, circling the rooftop. Their scaled bodies gleamed under the faint glow of distant explosions. They carried pulse rifles, axes, and stun sticks, each trained on her.

Then one of them stepped forward. His scales were a darker shade of green, marked with tribal tattoos. His voice was guttural but clear.

"Hiss… Blood Clan female. You are surrounded. Surrender now. If you resist, we will use force to bring you down."

Lyra's lips curled into a sly smile as she tilted her head.

"Oh honey… You should've brought more friends."

Her twin guns buzzed with energy, ready to unleash hell.

In less than the blink of an eye, Lyra raised her twin plasma pistols and fired. Twin beams of searing energy blasted forward, striking the Lizardman who had just ordered her surrender.

His head snapped back violently as two glowing, fist-sized holes appeared, one clean through his forehead, the other through his snout. His lifeless body dropped with a dull thud while smoke rose from the sizzling wounds.

For a moment, there was silence.

Then the rooftop erupted in chaos.

"HISSSSS!!"

The remaining Lizardmen let out furious roars, their rage exploding like a thunderclap. They opened fire from all directions, their rifles flashing as rounds peppered the air around Lyra. Pulse bolts and kinetic shots tore through the rooftop, ripping stone and steel apart in a storm of fury.

"Hahaha! I'm so popular today!" Lyra laughed like a mad dancer on a battlefield stage, spinning and twisting through the chaos.