Xeraph Knights's Story

Horrified shrieks and alarms sounded throughout the district. In the skies there appeared a group of five Griffin fighter craft, speeding toward the luminescent vortex, out of which a party of dark and strange-looking creatures emerged, assaulting the populace. From the sky, the Dragoons delivered a rain of energy blasts to the spawning enemy forces below.

On the ground, a sortie of Knights rushed to the scene, a flurry of Stallion assault vehicles -themselves loaded down with Knights- rushing passed them. The civilians fled the scene, screaming and crying and trampling over one another. It was horrifying sight to behold, but they had to press on. They hadn't even assessed what the threat was, but they assumed it to be another raid of Manasphere demons coming to finish Sepulcher Town.

However, upon closer examination, they discerned that these things did not appear to be the demons at all. Regardless, they were assaulting their home territory just the same. The Stallion gunners opened fire, their mana-turrets dolling out bursts of magickal energy, seeking to pierce the hides of these new foes.

The Knights, armed with Omisace pulse rifles, unleashed their own mana-powered weaponry upon these malicious entities. Their numbers were strong, their training made them durable. Their armor was sturdy and had pulled them through the most hellish campaigns. Laying down fire onto the invaders, the Knights continued their advance, seeking to blast apart the incoming enemy.

"Duly noted, Councilor Vorsa," replied Naleema one last time before giving the whole council a final, graceful bow with her hands raised toward them. "The Nazuan Rebellion thanks the Zorocratic Union. Myself especially."

As she turned, her frock flourished and danced around her lithe frame. She wore her smile on the way out, as she had on the way inside, and her guards silently followed.

Like puppets on a string.

As she turned to walk away, Vorsa leaned in closer to Bastille. "If these rebels don't turn out to be who they say they are, I hope you're prepared to face the repercussions, Klaven." With that, the vresk rose from his seat, along with the rest of the council, and left the chamber. Bastille remained, sitting in his chair, contemplating, holding his head in his hand.

'Aeons help me,' he thought gravely.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Outside the chamber, the devilishly handsome Master Lancer of the Dragoons approached the Misranan group. "Lady Saree, I presume. It is a pleasure to meet you. I am Master Lancer Alexander Steele. I'll be leading the fleet in the campaign against your planet's oppressors."

The Dragoon took a bow, placing his right arm across his chest and craning deeply. He stood back up, looking to the woman and her party. "I'm here to inform you that we will be making our course to your planet soon. We'll be taking a route through the Manasphere, and should arrive at Misrana's doorstep in no time at all," he stated plainly with a smile.

Naluma stopped in front of the rather strapping man, but due to her sudden movement, her frock kept moving forward until it nearly consumed the man before her. Once the cloth settled, the woman bowed her head, and not at the waist, because he was lower than the councilors. "The pleasure is all mine, Master Steele. Especially since you all have been so generous as to help our cause. Could you describe to me what this Manasphere is?"

They arrived, traveling through the mystical energies of the Manasphere. Exiting in a flash of blue light in the Onyx Galaxy, Alexander stood on the bridge of his Warhorse-class vessel; the ITV Stalwart Valor, Naluma standing near him. "And that, Miss Saree, was the Manasphere. It is a dimension from which we derive our magicks and energies. It provides a limitless supply of energy, allowing us to further our cause." He looked out upon the starry expanse, a smile on his face.

"We've developed a way to extract its energies utilizing our technology, which works in tandem with the magicks provided to accomplish, well, just about anything we set out to do, and much cheaper than utilizing traditional energy sources." Turning to her, he grinned once more. "Well, we've arrived. I hope this journey has been largely educational."

A swath of crystalline soldiers was cut down by the incoming hail of fire from above...almost as if they had been caught off guard. It didn't last long though; the instant that the Xeraph defenses started firing on the invading enigmas, they would feel a strange buzz start to tickle the back of their minds. A small division of thirty or so humanoid crystals suddenly looked at eachother, paused, and then rushed into a central point between them.

With loud screeching and shattering sounds, their independent bodies and lights merged to form a large tetragonal prism. From this structure unfolded six large pyramids, all of which had a light shining at the tip. Energy seemed to gather and a flurry of ripple-fired energy beams screamed up towards the incoming dropships.

Meanwhile, on the ground, a small detachment of invaders, twelve or so, bottlenecked two streets, forming a line to hold back the incoming Knights while their dark brethren finished harvesting innocent minds for reshaping. The crystalline soldiers had an unnatural agility that allowed them to evade most of the incoming fire, but it seemed as though they could only focus on three or four enemy targets at a time. As such, three or so were shattered to pieces by magickal blasts in the initial exchange of fire. This caused the remaining crystals to revise their tactics and stack up on the two street corners, taking potshots at incoming Knights.

Their primary means of attack seemed to be small, razor sharp shards of black crystal flung from their needle-like hands, which penetrated almost any surface and exploded in a detonation of brilliant energy after just a moment. As the defense forces and their newly formed mini-fortress fended off the Xeraph counter-assault team, the remaining VARIAtech invaders began to move into the buildings, seeking out stragglers for assimilation...

Groups of Xeraph Knights were being cut down left and right by the strange enemy, and above the Griffin fighter craft were broght down by the enemy's even stranger weaponry. At the backs of their minds, there was an unpleasant tickle, a pestering buzz that made it difficult to concentrate on attacking. Blood painted the ground around them, their brothers dying off. Xeraph Knights didn't die easily, but they did die; these mysterious crystalline beings was making certain of that. They were at an impasse, helplessly watching as the invaders carried off groups of citizens all the while laying down fire and not seeming to make any dents in the enemy ranks.

Just then, the cavalry came through.

The Malleus Demonika, the Union's own slayers of Manasphere demons, were sent in to investigate the attack, and to destroy any and all attackers that threatened the security of Rorian Grand and the rest of the Union's territories. Better-trained than the Knights, they burst onto the scene, armed with the very same pulse weaponry, as well as their highly deadly mana lances; large pole-arm weapons powered with magick energies to produce a high-intensity blade capable of slicing and piercing through the hardest of hides and materials.

Charging onto the scene, making their way into the thick of conflict, they met the invaders head on, unloading out of their own Stallions and rushing the mysterious creatures. They weren't like any demons they'd ever seen, but they could die just the same. Moving to cut down or impale the invasion party, as well as obliterate them with ranged weaponry, the hunters pushed hard to beat back the enemy and drive them back to whence they came.

A straight line of hunters charged them, while another group laid down fire from behind them, being careful to aim around their fellows. Utilizing a phalanx, they moved forward, harnessing their shielding systems to protect them as they advanced, their compatriots behind them providing them covering fire to allow them to safely move forward. The hunters moved to impale and slice the crystal beings, seeking to shatter them with their powerful weaponry.

The sudden fearless charge by the new Xeraph forces seemed to catch the invaders off guard. One of the defending detachments was quickly overrun by the incoming Demonika soldiers, four of them been cleaved into bits in the process. The remaining crystalline horrors bunched together near the portal that was still open and laid down an incessant hail of fire, tightening and reforming the line as two more of their dark comrades were blasted to pieces.

The flying fortress overhead also joined in suppressing the incoming Demonika soldiers, as large, thick square columns burst out of its individual faces, attempting to squash five or so Xeraph reinforcements at a time. All at once, the crystal men that had entered to search nearby buildings flew, literally, from the windows, landing in the street in a cloud of dust. Wordlessly, they ducked back through the portal. Once they were through, the battle-prism overhead fragmented back into individual soldiers, who crowded back in through the white vortex along with the remaining linemen. Five more crystal men were obliterated in the retreat, but that was fine. It had been calculated for. Their black, glassy remains slowly evaporated into nothingness as the white portal slowly wound itself shut with a droning howl.

Then, even amidst the groans of the dying and scared, there was peace again. Unfortunately, in the raid, seventy innocent beggars and peasants had been taken, their minds sucked right from their heads by the cruel needles of the invaders.

_________________________________


In the stark, blank void that surrounded Nucleus, the VARIAtech home world, the away team arrived through a vortex similar to the one with which they had appeared on the Xeraph world. The remaining forces drifted through dreamily, a host of small, individual prisms herded in the middle of their flock. Seventy new minds to be cleansed and indoctrinated in the great, black world that lingered not far off in the distance...

The Xeraph forces were able to push back, obliterating a good number of the enemy. However, they lost some of their own men in the process; a handful of hunters, thirty Knights, and ten Dragoons. The enemy retreated through the vortex from which they had entered, taking with them a decidedly small number of civilians, but took them nonetheless; and that was a loss for them.

However, peace returned to the condemned sector once the dust settled and the enemy evacuated. A hunter finish retrieving his mana-lance from the crystal corpse of his enemy. "Load this one up, and be sure to keep it contained. The Sorcerers would likely want to study it." A group of Knights walked over, picking up the slain crystal figure. It was quite heavy, even given the strength-enhancement properties afforded to them by their mana-powered armor. They loaded the creature into a Stallion, and returned their attention to surveying the area: they had to make sure no one was injured.

"How familiar. The origin from which the magic energy on Celestria is much different than that on Misrana, however the use is the same," said Naluma, musing over the grand ship, much different than the cyborg ships she was used to, where one could feel the ground thumping gently as the beast's massive heart beat below them. This ship did not beat, and the floor was not as soft on her feet, but it had its own charms that Naluma took to immediately.

Once they arrived in the Onyx Galaxy, the woman could not conceal the amused smile. "How very useful. We were so very, very far apart. Two weeks at least from Terra, and farther still from the Aurora. It's been a little while since I've seen Misrana."

Indeed, the very colorful planet floated before them, locked in a slow pull around the blue giant, Zola. Around the planet there were various large satellites.

"There might be a problem. I can't introduce you as a friend of the rebellion or you might not get admitted by the Nahatsuan military. Those platforms- there's about forty in all- will hold you back. The reason we haven't been taken over yet is because of them. The Aschen tried to attack us once. We held our own until they flew off."

"Indeed," Alexander began, "There is much about the Manasphere we do not yet understand, but that is all a matter of time. What we do know is that it is a source of unlimited energy, or seems to be, and that it is a very versatile dimension. It is, however, quite a dangerous place as well..." he trailed off, thinking to himself. Eventually, he snapped his attention back to Naluma, a smile spread across his face. "But now we need to focus on landing."

Naluma seemed concerned. "There might be a problem. I can't introduce you as a friend of the rebellion or you might not get admitted by the Nahatsuan military. Those platforms- there's about forty in all- will hold you back. The reason we haven't been taken over yet is because of them. The Aschen tried to attack us once. We held our own until they flew off."

Alexander pondered for a moment, then smiled as he faced her. "Then who shall you introduce us as?" he asked with a laugh. "Don't worry, Lady Naluma; if there's one things we are good at, it is getting to where we need to go. We could always simply send a group of Bison to the surface. THey would easily slip past any security measures," he looked out in the distance through the window on the bridge. "Unless of course, you have an idea of your own."

"I will let you know if it comes to that, Master Lancer. For now, let me convince the Nahatsuan army that you aren't here for the purposes that we've actually brought you for. Would you allow me to hail them?" asked Naluma, clasping her fingers at her waist. "I do not expect this to be a huge challenge. Perhaps not even tricky. I have my ways with the Nahatsans."

As her own ship came into view, she waited for Alexander to either link her to the ODPs, or for them to hail the ship she was currently in.

Alexander fired up the comms, directing Naluma toward them. "Do whatever you feel is necessary. Whatever helps us advance," he said. Looking out at the beautiful planet, he got a sense of unease. He'd fought in several campaigns, and never felt such hesitation. Something about their being here seemed improper; out of place. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but Alexander had the strange feeling that they were making a mistake coming here...

However, he shook the feeling off. 'Maybe I'm just getting more cautious these days,' he thought.

Naluma made her way to the comms, waiting for a prompt.

Once it came, the woman seemed cheerful to learn that an ustelan diplomat by the name of "Magannamus," was on the other line. That would be the extent of the conversation that everyone in the ship would likely be able to understand, for Naluma and Magannamus began to rapidly chat in Misranae to one another. There was a short pause in which Naluma threw back her head in laughter, then began the conversation again. Somewhere, her voice seemed to become more commanding, more conservative, and soon Magannamus cut off connections.

Naluma beamed up brightly to the Master Lancer.

"If you all would- we've been allowed access to the Zanzarian port! The ship I arrived on Rorian Grand will lead us there."

To his relief and utter cheeriness, Alexander nodded in response to Naluma's guidance. "Full sail ahead, men!" he called. The Stalwart Valor eased forward, following the path laid out by the strange ship Naluma had arrived on Rorian Grand in.

The Master Lancer stood, hands folded behind him, as the mysterious and marvelous world came closer and closer. Misrana was more lustrous than he could have thought it. Beautiful architecture, landforms and sea waters painted the planet's face, affording it a glamorous appearance that mere words could not accurately portray.

In short, Alexander was quite bewitched by the sights he was taking in. His mouth was agape in awe, as if he were bearing witness to the birth of the world itself; the construct of angels that lay just beyond hi reach, and he would soon have his feet planted above those marvelous landmasses. They came into orbit, and the Xeraph could merely wait further instruction.

Alexander was growing increasingly impatient.

The fleet of the Dawnscar Ascension was treading the blackened expanse of Auroran space. Patrolling the Aurora for dangers was never a bad move if a nation valued their security. Admiral Kerta Fex, a vresk if ever there was one, helmed the Warhorse-class vessel as its fleet scoured the void for hostile activity.

That is, until the scanners picked up hostile activity.

"Sir, detecting multiple energy signals not five light-years away. How shall we proceed?" The admiral contemplated for a moment before opening his mouth to speak. However, he was cut off by his ranking officer; the Paladin Killian Io.
"Investigate. I want to know who is causing commotion in this sector and I want to know why."
Kerta, unnerved by the Paladin's interjection, retorted. "Sir, I don't think that is in the best interest of our cause."
Killian turned to the admiral, a snarl forming on his upper lip. "May I remind you, admiral, that the Ascension is my ship. You just have the utmost privilege of steering it."
The vresk looked down at the comparatively small human. Had it been anyone else, they'd have been wrangled in the admirals massive hands and broken over his knee like a twig. However, the admiral knew of Killian Io's exploits; his lengthy and hellish campaign as a Knight of the Union; He knew better than to trifle with the man.
"Yes, sir," he finally resided.
"We'll go in alone, lieutenant, leave the fleet behind just in case."
The navigator acknowledged the order, bringing the ship to full speed as to meet the source of the activity.

What they found was more than expected...

It was a battleground alright, with many players in the game. However, one particular group of vessels stood out to the crew: Avaeon Republic ships. Up until now, the Union had only heard of these people. Now it seemed they were in a full scale assault. Who initiated the attack the was anyone's guess.

It would take some more observation before Killian could decide what to do.

“Commander.”

Amritha’s soft voice stirred James out of his thoughts for a moment, the dim bedside lamp making long phantoms across the spartan room. The Savage rubbed at a few excess days of stubble around his chin and jaw as the capsuleer powered up the tiny pad-clock on the metal nightstand beside him. Days had passed by and he found himself tucked away into the captain’s hole now, outside though the ship continued bustling along; six hundred odd souls grinding away across the bowels of the vessel. Five hundred and ninety nine if you were the kind that didn’t consider capsuleers human.

“I’m up.” Savage finally brought himself out of the bed and into the pants at the side of the mattress, watching a holographic display jump in front of him. Amritha, rigged into the digipsionic pod somewhere in the bowels of the Malmo, might have been however far away but gave the Commander plenty of evidence that the ship and her crew were waiting on him. A screen rolled by from a surveillance camera on one of the cruiser's gundeck; olive-robed sailors checked the mechanism on a dual-purpose railgun, segue to the galley crew making a thousand pounds of icecream and Savage waved the holograms apart.

"When you're ready I need the logs for the last few hours, I'm opening the enigma package." Savage idly threw a shirt on and took one glance at the matte-black ruggedized laptop. The device had sat unmoved, as per orders, since the vessel departed in formation with the rest of Task Force Viking over Arik. With the Colonial Sphere behind them the Malmo had dropped off with the rest of Task Force Viking completely; where now a tentative carrier group seemed to inch towards the battlefield on the long range sensors, the Malmo had let its FTL drive cool dark making a chill across the hull of the vessel in the surrounding cosmos.

“The Imperial military has prepared for a large deployment in the area, and the Malmo received a broadcast piggying off of Viking’s comms. The situation in the Isirian sector seems to have developed." The woman's voice trailed into a mechanic din when she was spread all throughout the ship. Stuffed away in deep in the hull she still peered over his shoulder like a prying child as he stood in front of the desk.

"Curious, Ams?" Savage's boyish charm seemed to only draw a laugh for himself as the woman occupied the tiny holoprompter nested against the wall.

"Only to see what sort of trouble you'll get into this time." Amritha was a smart, competent woman from the Inner Empire; once or twice during pillow talk she had spoken about the IE briefly. She wasn't one of the 'fortunate' ones, like the boy who'd grown up as a Savage. "Or finally get yourself killed."

"Funny how capsuleers appreciate our mortality moreso than the ones with it." Despite his incredulous tone he knew she pulled back a bit at that, didn't stop him from letting the short chuckle come after she spoke.

"Those comms exchanges are ready, commander." It was only a certain silence that ever convinced Savage he was alone; mentally he felt the woman huff in remark and then occupy herself with something. The room remained dim as Savage undid the two latches holding the enigma machine closed.

He made a quick mental note to apologize to the capsuleer, but if he truly decided it he hardly thought of what to say as the ruggedized slowly pulled open. A floating image greeted him, the infamous dagger and eye, Counter-Balance.



The IM app made cute little keyboard noises as James watched whoever was at the other end type, and his eyes narrowed at the prospect that he might have crossed half the galaxy for nothing but a spook run.

Welcome to the Aurora, don't expect to go sight seeing any time soon.

"Who is this?" Savage began typing his thoughts as he spoke, and a split second later the other user replied curtly. Not important.

You're officially removed from Task Force Viking's roster; as of this communication, your objective is the defusal of this situation. Are you aware of the incident taking place in Isiria?

Savages reeled back from the desk for a moment, the other hand fumbling to the remote control and pointing it at the blank wall to activate the large-screen. The ships’ menu faded out after he scrolled the volume down and came back to the ruggedized.

A few hours ago the Empire declared war, Commander.

As if on que, after the enigma pulsed a short signal somewhere in the ship, the capsuleer returned to the room at the holoprompter carrying a handheld screen. “Commander Savage, we’ve received a broadcast on the civilian-comms.”

The airscreen coalesced into an image of the Empyrean heartland, two suns (though they almost appeared as one) brightly hung in the sky overhead a suited man. The calming grey color was a difference in with the greenery, modern architecture and a waiting crowd of reporters and bystanders. Prime Minister Dauch stood before the waiting cameras like an aging obelisk, and while the wrinkles at either eye furled.

“Ladies and gentlemen, men and women of the domestic and foreign press, I only have a short time and I shall be brief with this. Today my administration received confirmation from the executive of the Aschen Empire that it has initiated hostilities against another sovereign state in its nominal territory, a region called the Aurora.”

Following Dauch’s accent was a cold, crawling realization that Viking had not left “on a routine patrol”. Savage and Amritha stood side by side in front of the flickering television screen, Dauch almost talking directly to them despite being thousands of lightyears away.

“Today, frail and battlescarred nations teeter on the brink of dissolution and the graveyard of history and today, the Federal government stands once again for Aschen perseverance through war. The Aschen are ready to face any adversity that will afflict it in these upcoming tribulations -- they overcame even their own adversity. They have earned their right to exist.”

The image cut to a voice recording as Savage turned back to the ruggedized, the app closed remotely and a blank loading screen sat for him.

“Minister Narek will explain in full detail the groundwork the Federal government has suggested for a united front in support of the Aschen Empire, for a quick and stable establishment of peace as soon as possible -- with multi-lateral decisions and agreements for all belligerents. Fellow citizens of the great Coalition, pray for your Aschen brethren. Pray for their fighting men -- and most importantly, pray for our unfortunate enemies.”

Whisper swept into the CIC of the Nighthawk as her form regained its corporeal state. Word had already reached the technicians as to her arrival, and they were preparing to jack her into the Reverence. After the Avaeon had effectively shut down a military vessel only a few weeks prior, they weren't taking any chances. It would be far more difficult for the Avaeon's to override the ship's systems with Whisper jacked in. Viruses were designed to corrupt program, and AI's. They weren't designed to contend with a human mind behind the ship's systems.

She sat down in a chair that was being wired into one of the control consoles. The Nighthawk wasn't specifically outfitted for her like the Blackbird, but they were making quick work of it.

As she sat down a technician lay the chair back.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

Whisper nodded.

As before the searing pain of the jack being jammed into the back of her neck drew a jerk and a gasp from her lips before her consciousness was seamlessly separated from her physical body. Unlike before though, her consciousness wasn't contained inside of a virtual box, but rather she had full run of the ships systems. Its weapons, its sensors, its life support systems, its comm systems, everything was at her disposal.

A woman's voice filled the CIC from the loudspeakers.

"Blackbird, online. The aliens have engaged with the Harbinger of Piety. Our FTL drives are spooling up. We'll be clear of the combat zone in five seconds. Four. Three. Two -"

As the UDW vessels engaged with the Nova Wolf, several other ships bearing Isirian IFFs blinked into the vicinity. A destroyer, two frigates, and a trio of corvettes were now drifting through the open space. Though the ships were clearly Isirian in make, many bore Aschen upgrades and modifications. Many of the Isirian ships had also been outfitted with more advanced navigation systems, upgraded weapons systems, hard light and combat shielding.

Aboard the destroyer, the Astral Comet, the CIC was a buzz of activity. The entire region had been on high alert with concerns of an imminent invasion, but many had felt it nothing more than a precaution. Few had expected a return of the aliens so soon, but they had been disillusioned to that belief upon picking up the Harbinger of Piety's signal.

The DRADIS screens were displaying several alien vessels engaged with friendlies.

"Put me through to the Harbinger of Piety," Commander Renaud ordered.

'This is Commander Renaud aboard the Astral Comet. Requesting orders.'

AHSC Harbinger of Piety
Reverence II class Supercarrier
Admiral Elisha Whitcomb

The situation continued to remain tense, as the Reverence's AI adjusted the ship's maneuvering to try and catch the Frigate as it buzzed around the massive Carrier like an angry wasp.

"Main weapons are unable to garner firing solution, UDW Ships have confirmed arrival." The AI reported, and then several screens were brought up. "Isirian vessels confirmed for arrival as well." She added, and the Admiral nodded. Alarms klaxxoning in the background as she contemplated her actions.

"Do we have weapons lock?" She asked, and the AI nodded. "Secondary Anti-Frigate batteries are keeping pace, we also have reports from the Trident's Thrust and the Miracle's Grove, they have confirmed firing solutions." The AI reported, and a Lieutenant quickly turned towards the Admiral.

"Sir! Incoming communication from the Alien Hostiles." He reported

Whitcomb nodded. "Patch it through on the speakers."

“You have two of our people aboard your vessel. You have 2 minutes to surrender them to us or we will take them from you, dead or alive. This is your only warning.”

Whitcomb pondered for a moment, contemplating her next move before a second CIC officer turned to face her. "Admiral, text message from the Nighthawk, it's from Admiral McGregor." He said, and Whitcomb nodded, bringing it up onto a holographic screen. The message simply read.

'Ignis'


It was at that instant the UDW Ships began to open fire, and Whitcomb moved to act quickly. "Open fire all primary batteries! Get us away from that damn frigate! I want all ships weapons free!" She shouted, grabbing the railing as the Reverence II kicked on it's massive engines, and then quickly banked a hard left, putting the Nova Wolf directly in the line of fire to allow the UDW to garner a batter firing solution, but should it manage to survive the hit, it would be greeted by the Trident's Thrust coming sharply about danger close to the Reverence's Hull.

"Wait for it..." Commander Chamlotte said, narrowing her eyes.

"Wait for it.." As the curved hull of the Reverence pulled away, the Nova Wolf would be in a clean line of fire perpendicular to the Trident's Thrust.

"Now!" Commander Chamlotte called out, and the Trident's Thrust loosed a massive and brilliant pink beam of light directly center mass at the Nova Wolf, the Polaron Blaster designed to rip through shields and deliver a high-energy impact against armor and hull alike. This initial attack was followed up as the Miracle's Grove tailed an Escort ship, loosing a pair of Avenger Ant-Ship missiles that were threaded on the Reverence's Wide-Spectrum arrays to guide itself towards the enemy ship as it zipped about. However, it was just as the Reverence's weapons came to life, with rotary flak cannons putting up a thick wall of fire danger close, and encapsulating the Avaeon ships in a wall of shrapnel, debris, and thermite clouds as it's Stormbringer Anti-Ship defense systems swiveled to life, with the AI's predictive algorithms, it would fire a fusillade of brilliant green disruptor bolts at the ship, and lead it in almost every possible direction it could go, with the intent to box it in with a wall of disruptor fire.

It was then Admiral Whitcomb opened a comm to the Nighthawk, to relay an order to Echo.

"Get yourself a Combat skin and report to one of the Torpedo turrets, see if you can't fire yourself out of the torpedo and get yourself aboard one of their ships." She said, relaying the risky idea to the Golem.

"And try not to get yourself killed." Whitcomb added.

Though on the Nighthawk, Raphael frowned and disconnected the comms from the Harbinger of Piety as the Nighthawk prepared to jump. His shimmering eyes on Echo.

"I've got a better idea, go speak with the prisoners, and do that thing you do so we can learn about their biology."


"Sir! UCON assets are in system!" Another Lieutenant reported, while Whitcomb nodded, and then opened up the comms.

"UDW Stalker, this is Harbinger of Piety actual, need you to swat some gnats, danger close; we can take it." She said, and then turned to the AI.

"Disengage flaks and turn on the Hard Lights, button us up for danger close enemy and friendly fire."

The AI simply nodded, and it was then the Harbinger of Piety ceased fire, and a brilliant, blue polygonal shield shimmered around it, encapsulating it in a cocoon of light. Almost akin to a second skin of armor.