The destruction of the Earth was a catastrophic blow to Yelgir as well, even though he wasn't very fond of it. It was the governing body, and military headquarters, of the entire Haven Alliance. With the command structure now just Cthulu and his staff, the time and cost of recuperating their losses would be enormous. Years, maybe decades, as well as an inconceivable amount of money would be required to rebuild their forces. The Xien Coalition had lost next to nothing, and it would be easy for them to finish off the remainder of the Alliance. Yes, there were still some ships and fighters left for the Alliance, but they were scattered across this sector of the galaxy as protection for the planets they guard. Yelgir ran calculations, scenarios, and odds through his head, and only came up with two alternatives. Surrender, or death. Either way, the Alliance had fallen.
With this realization, he sank to his knees, staring out the opened viewport. No tears ran down his face, but his heart, or wherever emotions came from, was heavy. The whole purpose for his existence was to fight this war, and now that it was over, he realized he didn't know what to do. For his entire life, he had been training for, and participating in, the war against the Xien. His maker, Jasta, had been on one of the ships caught in the explosion, and now he had no-one to turn to. The members of his team were still alive, according to the signals from their suits, but they weren't the same. Jasta was as close as a father could be to Yelgir; had given him life, a goal, and the tools to achieve it.
Soft sobbing from behind made Yelgir turn. Apparently the human girl was unnecessary to the Xien any longer, as they had left her here on the ship. She was crying heavily now, tears streaming, breath heaving. He wanted to comfort her, but had nothing to say. Entire libraries of scientific, tactical, and historical data in his head, and he knew nothing that could help. He could quote The Art of War in its entirety, but that still wouldn't comfort a hurt person. "I--I'm sorry." he ventured. "I wish there were something I could say to help." He went over and patted her shoulder, something he'd seen humans on the ship do to help someone hurt. A lump rose in his throat, and he wished with all his heart he could do something to make it better.