They looked like thunderstorms. Perhaps some were; flashes of light high in the atmosphere. But most weren't. Most were the bombs.

Safe on the moon, watching it on a scanner, she felt a small pang of regret, because she hadn't had time to collect all of her personal belongings before she left. Did she regret this step for any other reason? No. It had to be done. The Federation must survive. And if that meant destroying its very heart, then so be it.

Like a surgeon removing a cancerous organ. Somehow, despite it being the centre of the Federation, Earth had always been the centre of rebellion too. It spread the seeds of dissent like a dandelion's spores blown on a summer breeze. But those seeds were men and women. She had already dealt with many of them. The recent news from Guada Prime reported that some of the Federations most persistent, if generally ineffective enemies, were dealt with at last.

Almost a pity. She'd had high hopes for Avon, but he proven too stubborn. Men so often were. Blinkered. Even self-interested ones like that. They didn't have the subtlety of thought that she valued in herself.

She shook off the memories of the sometimes pleasant interactions they'd had, and watched the scanner again. The planet below grew dark under the flashes of light high above it. The seas boiled. Would life come back one day, she wondered? If it did, the Federation would be waiting for it. She would make the Federation an empire strong enough to last a million years.

She shut off the scanner. She'd dealt with Earth.