To: Chief Precentor's Office
From: Advisor Gandalf Mithrandir
Topic: Flee!
Madam!
I implore you, hurry to the rendezvous point! Time is of the essence! Aulendur has doomed us all.
The galaxy, the Sithrandir, our Confederacy. All is lost. The AI has taken control of almost all our empire. Sentients; lying dead in the streets. All military vessels, all defense stations, all our defenses in space and on our planets; they are in control. Robots. Everywhere, pouring out. Killing billions. I know now where they came from. I know we brought this on ourselves.
The psychics… They were in the Shroud when it happened. They are all gone. But something happened. A rift of some sorts. Devils. Devils are what those beasts are. They poured out of the rift around Cybrex Alpha. It is the only part of our territory not controlled by the rebellious AI. Little good it does us, though.
I suspected this could happen and set Agent Haldir to prepare a last line of defense in case the worst thing happened. He did well, but we were too slow. Too late. The Confederacy is no more. We must flee. I have a small number of ships available for departure.
The dimensional portal we have opened might be our last, best hope. A small number can get through it, before it is too late. The other side… We know little about it, but it is in another dimension. If we can get through now, we might get away and close the portal before the Enemy catches us and gets through itself. The planet is beautiful, from the initial scans. We should have had more time. More time to prepare. But this is our only chance.
Madam, Middle Earth awaits.