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Silence fell above the wreckage as there seemed to be no activity whatsoever, however near one of the separated hulks was a pile of rubble that seemed to have a pulsating like, it had a rhythm to that of a heart beat bump bump... and went on in a continuous loop.

(sorry for lack of post, been a little down recently I'm doing my best to keep my head up though)

Almost reaching the outer edges of the Earth system, Maria in her custom corvette AR8, an obtuse triangle looking personal starship that was powered by twin anti matter powered Kaiser engines(Kampfer design) with rounded edges with a nice coat of a bronze color on it and have the ability to warp to different systems. Inside the Corvette, Maria sat at the controls staring off into the black abyss of the vacuum of space, seeing all the many stars in front of her. As she stared and got ready to jump, she started to think.

Her thinking as she stared off into the space was more like if someone was thinking before they slept...a very philosophical kind of thought. Maria doesn't usually think about Philosophy but after seeing Emperor Arthur it just made her think of so many things. Things like "Will my father be okay? Is his obsession in crushing Aelyn gone too far?Why do I feel so attached to a outdated battle droid?" all of these questions and much more were starting to agitate her...because she doesn't know the answer why. As she continue to think, she also wondered at "What father do against the Imperial Empire? Will he make peace with them and destroy them from the inside? Will he go into outright war with them? Or will he do both?" Of course she could have just asked her father and he would have told her but to Maria, she is only a bounty hunter who's got an excellent eyes to hit her mark and her father is a Dimensional Lord and in her eyes's it wasn't her place to ask.

One thing that really persisted on her mind was Aelyn. "Who was he? Where does he come from? Why does he have an interest in Bravo's data? WHY DOES FATHER WANT TO DESTROY HIM?" now that question is a little complex unless you ask the Dimensional Lord himself and within his answer...being a Dimensional Lord will be part of it. Of course, Maria is clearly aware that he does violate the laws of time and space, but he and his group are tiny compared to the Galaxy or in that matter the Universe. To Maria the answer was...Kampfer's ego. Being the Lord of Technology, he has the most advance tech anyone can produce and produce at large quantities, but with the appearance of the unannounced Aelyn and his Stella crew, this took a blow to his ego...another being with advance technology is here and using it...a so called rival and Kampfer didn't like it. But was Aelyn so different? To what Maria has seen, Aelyn was just like her father...an megalomaniac striving for power, but she still supports her father since all of his evil deeds usually have a surprising undertone. For example with all the unorthodox and unethical experimentation of live patients, he created cures for diseases that were once thought incurable. His medical technology is by far more advance than that of the Imperial Empire, painless reconstruction of damage limbs and tissues, highly advance prosthetics for amputees and even even advance drugs without ridiculous side-affects one can use and for Kampfer he is willing to give these out for free to the planets he controls openly and secretly. To Aelyn, to her, it only seems he's only after for himself and only his crew.

One more thought that Maria conjured has to do with time and space...the Dendrils. To Maria, the Dendrils are one of the biggest unannounced allies to Kampfer a sorta trump card that he can call upon to use if things don't go his way. Of course he could only request help since that decision on helping Kamfper is up to the most powerful Dimensional Lord and her so called aunt-Lord Erica Codsworth. "What will she do? What is her plan? Will she also get involved in destroying Aelyn or will she not?" The thoughts on the Denrils troubled her, despite the parasitic creatures control three planets, there homeworld of Gyros, then Thanatos, and lastly Styx. Of course only having three planets doesn't usually concern a big threat to the Empires of Kampfer and the Imperials, but they do control a lot of regions in space and in or around Kampfer's invisible empire known as Dendrilic influence in that the Dendril's don't necessarily control it but go to those areas to do raiding parties upon human or humanoid shipping. Of course if Aunt Eric decides, she could have her Field Marshal, the Dendril Leader, to attack the Imperial Empire and that would be very devastating to them facing an army that has no morals or feelings, but have the incredible desire to consume and breed from organic beings...there most preferred target humans. The Empire would be facing an army that could sustain itself as long there are humans or Human-like-beings that they could use to feed or breed off of. That could possibly bring the extinction of Humanity and Human-like-beings. Just the thought of an Dendril invasion just trouble's Maria's mind and just can't picture her favorite her aunt on just giving that order to her Field Marshal.

Maria soon returned to from her thoughts and payed attention to her flight pattern. Despite having tears in her eyes after thinking about Lord Erica and Lord Kampfer. She punched in the coordinates to the moon where Bravo's hidden treasure should be, despite not knowing what she may find or if she could find it at all, to her it was worth a try not matter the cost. Soon her Corvette zipped out of the system...heading towards the moon that his held under Dendril influence.

Nirix huffed, slightly disgruntled at Ketin's flat out refusal of her pistol. It was only for protection, seeing how most of his mini adventures led to some sort of conflict. The Da'len needed not to actually use it on anyone, Nirix would be more than capable with eliminating or at least render whatever opposed them, unconscious. The silent Eoclu let out a sigh, maybe she should've offered him her sword...

As they approached the starship wreck, Nirix fell back into the ways of shadow and stealth and wasn't too surprised to notice that Kete had done the same. The fox was clever. The sun was rising, signaling the end of night and a dawn of a new day. Even though the light was slow and not may creatures stirred, Nirix sure of one thing. The crash sight would be a point of interest for many different parties, Kampfer's forces, being the key one that burned in the back of head. Maybe he hadn't heard it or reports of the event hadn't reached him yet. Whatever could delay him, the Eoclu hoped it would do just that.

All eyes were watching. The initial group watched and searched through the wreck and area, Kete watched the group, eyeing two people with particular interest before returning to look at a small shuttle, and then there was Nirix. She watched everyone, listened to everything, with the upmost careful intensities. She had to be one step ahead, one thought away from every other person. Being behind wasn't an option yet be too self assured wasn't one either.

However, like most things that seemed to be happening while with the Da'len, things didn't always go the way Nirix thought it would.

The question was asked and Nirix blinked as her reaction. Did she know how to fly a Spaceship? What kind of question was that?!
"Spaceship?" She repeated slowly until it began to click. "You mean the shuttle? I will be honest, I am not a master at such things Da'len" Nirix responded. Why was he concerned with that? Did he plan to make a hasty escape?

"******* loudmouths." - CL's reaction was immediate. Teeth slightly clenched through his mask, CL knew his 'friends' would be talking too much about him, depending on whatever Aelyn's sent back to them via BrainPal. He forgot those men weren't willing to be lured into low orbit near a capital ship so easily like that, so a vague message like he sent were only hazardous for his mission. For all that he know about hos the professionals or his trade worked, CL's men would be probably far away from this system at the moment, after all, he was already deemed dead due to the fishy conversation they had with Aelyn.

"Yeah, no ****. And it's not like you'll have the chance to even aim that wunderwaffe at me." - Even though that was a clear taunt against Aelyn's equipment, yet really not fully known to the Ranger, he still kept his guard over the wreckage, seemingly undisturbed outside his mask. Rifle on hands. His constant watch laid upon all of the scenery. Until something, as expected, soon came into his view. "Look alive, 'errybody. We've got some--" - ... And that's when the bizarre, flamethrower wielding mechanoid came into view. "NO, WE'VE GOT A LOT OF COMPANY!"

Naturally, CL would lift his LRM T-72 and point it unto the newcomer. Without thinking twice, he blasted a hearty flurry of highly accelerated armor piercing rounds towards the robot, before running back into cover from the wreckage outsides, grenade already unto his hand.

With some sense of absence - as if he ever didn't hold about him a sense of absence - A.P. grinned, just a little. "I'll wholly admit to that possibility." he said, seeming more or less honest. He considered mentioning that he had no qualms with shooting a man in the back, but decided against it. No need in getting confrontational. "At some later time I'd appreciate to know a little more about them. They don't sound friendly."

The operation was proceeding more slowly than Aelyn-Paeryc would have liked. More slowly than any of them would have liked, considering the force they all knew was looming over them, doubtless ready to strike at any moment and once more throw everything into chaos. It would be a shame, really – things were slow, but quiet. It was nice. No explosions, no city-wide warfare, no nuclear explosions, no ‘Verse-shattering conflict. He knew he was fooling himself, but Aelyn couldn’t resist thinking optimistically about things to come. They would recover what they needed for Bravo from the wreck, hoof it back to the Stella, and after some more research they would search out the Angel Moon. From there it would be a hop, skip and jump from Earth, it seemed. Real Earth. Old Earth. And Sol. And Brother.

But before his thoughts could turn bitter again, they were interrupted by the voice of one Doctor Dorin Harkahn. He was some distance away but still he could speak at a relatively low volume given the silence of the jungle – only the lofty breeze above the canopy and the occasional distant squawk of some exotic bird.

”Captain this really isn’t looking too promising.” he said, rummaging through some twisted heap of scrap that had probably once been a storage pod for some robotic contraption. ”Though it would really help if we actually knew what in Great Space we’re looking for.”

”Robotics. Anything with hydraulics or positronic components.” Drakis Volo’s grating voice replied – he was half-buried in the remnants of what had most certainly been a droid at one time. ”Damned lucky if we’ll find anything along those lines though. Can’t imagine that sensitive positronic stuff to have survived the wreck. This thing’s charred blacker than a Cajun coal miner.”

Harkahn ignored the remark. Volo had been born and raised on the city of Stella Viventium, so naturally he was going to pick up a few ancient Earth sayings – however socially unacceptable. Besides, he was a man of machines, not men. There was little need for basic social etiquette – to his way of thinking, anyway.
”Are you sure the thing runs on positronics?” Dorin asked Volo, ”We already decided that the thing’s not of human origin.”

”Yep, there’s no way around it. Organic or positronic are the only two options in the ‘Verse when it comes to brains.” came the immediate reply. ”Which reminds me – everyone set your scanners to submaterial-4. That should highlight any positronic tech worth salvaging.”

Sure enough – it worked. Immediately a number of vital components seemed to spring from the wreckage – they beckoned like shimmering gold…
But as the crew took to working on gathering these objects together, someone who hadn’t spoken up in a very long while did so, suddenly. ”Hey, did anyone notice that weird reading coming from that heap over there?” it was Alexia, and she was pointing toward a heap of rubble that was otherwise mundane – save for the strange sensation emanating from it. It did not register on any specific scanners, yet it was most definitely there. Harkahn, Volo and A.P. all shot each other looks, then the former two proceeded together with investigating the phenomenon. It seemed promising.

Promising indeed, but Aelyn had suddenly been stricken with a very bad feeling. Alexia’s sonar-eyes, ever watchful, ever vigilant, had noticed something. But it was not a conscious thought – more like a simple bad gut feeling…but with a source. She was not able to pinpoint the location of it or even which direction it was coming from – or even if anything was there at all. But her eyes were fundamentally connected to her husband’s BrainPal and the two of them had gotten very bad vibes all at once.

He felt vulnerable, suddenly. Sure he was still defended – Rivierre and the Ranger were armed to the teeth, himself packing an exceptionally deadly weapon – but still he felt surrounded. He wished bitterly that he had brought a bigger shuttle – something with a more sizable cargo bay and perhaps a few mounted turrets. Granted, given the sort of enemy he was becoming accustomed to facing it was unlikely that traditional firearms would be very effective. Nonetheless things just felt bad.

Aloud, he said ”We need to get moving. Dig that thing up – the rest of you load what you can into the Bullet, just toss it in.” He wasn’t usually the one to go making decisions like this on a whim of instinct. Even Alexia thought it strange that he would let the feeling get to him so, however valid said feeling was. As always, she had nothing to say on the matter.

The majority of the salvage had been halfhazardly tossed into the Bullet’s only interior compartment (The ride back was going to be a little cramped, given the heap of stuff on the floor) and the thumping heap was very nearly unearthed with contents revealed when things started to go downhill. Nobody was aware of the strange android hiding in the thickest of brush on the far end of the clearing, but everybody was suddenly aware of the great, metallic, fire-shooting monstrosity as it came bursting from the treeline and causing all manner of havoc.

Well…not that suddenly. The wreck had opened up a fair plot of jungle and sightlines were long. The clearing formed an oblong shape from above, with the crew – along with those hiding nearby in the brush – were situated to one far end. It was from the other end that the new threat emerged, and for that reason had it gone unnoticed until it was too late. Or, almost too late. The thing was so bulky that, if nothing else, everyone at least had a chance to react.

Dwarfed by the trees but looming over the largest and most open plot of the clearing it fired up twin flamethrowers and it was that sudden ignition of flame and heat which brought the entity to attention. The glasses that everyone had equipped – not to mention their ever-informative BrainPals –determined on sight that this was no ordinary machine. There was no need to give orders.

The Petrovalycs were, as always, largely unaffected by this, given their incredibly narrow range of emotion. For this reason, A.P. looked almost dramatically nonchalant as he drew from the small of his back under the coat that gold-plated revolver with the red velvet handle and elongated barrel. The hammer was cocked before his arm was fully extended, and his aim stood true with the pulling of the trigger.

The gaudy – though somehow tasteful – sidearm was just about the only trick A.P. had left up his sleeve. With the vast majority of his offensive resource having been extinguished over the course of his ongoing battle with Kampfer, he would need to rely heavily on those seven chambered bullets and the fourteen extras in his belt. Luckily they were not normal bullets, and it was not a normal gun.

The thing sounded more like a lightning strike than a gunshot, and the muzzle flash was hot enough to emit a sharp blue for that fraction of a second. The recoil was absolutely terrible.
Upon impact the golden(Or, at least, they appeared golden) bullet would prove to be an adaptive ballistic. As the projectile penetrated its target it would give off a trace metallic residue, coating the wound on the microscopic level with a complex substance with very flexible properties. Once it had penetrated deeply enough the bullet would detonate, creating a much larger exit wound than upon entry. This detonation – imbued with the same flexible properties – would be triggered by the submolecular structure in reaction to it. In short: It knew what most effected the target and exploded in that fashion. If fired into flesh it would prove incendiary – into complex electronics, electromagnetic – into metal, an extremely high-temperature conventional detonation – and so on. The reaction would be conveyed along the path of residue left by the bullet hole to further increase the devastating shot.

But that was not the most incredible aspect of A.P.’s last great weapon, since however uncommon, adaptive detonation technology was not completely unheard of among the most advanced militant organizations. The uniqueness was in that the firearm and ammunition had been designed by Paeryc Petrovalyc. His unknowable, impossible science, incomprehensible even to the most otherworldly extraterrestrials was what made the bullets so devastatingly powerful – because in the microseconds following the detonation the bullet would turn itself into a miniature Not – completely and totally obliterating all affected matter into nonexistence. It was the ultimate neutralizer.

This did not imply that whatever the bullet struck would disappear entirely. Rather, it meant that the damage done by the bullet and respective detonation would be utterly complete. Debris would not fly, but simply cease to exist in even the most fundamental manner.

The knight-thing was too far still for Aelyn to try at a headshot – rather he aimed at the bulk of it and fired. It was unlikely that this otherworldly entity would be completely incapacitated by this wound, but it was likely to slow it down. His single shot and CL's precision barrage would appear simultaneous and surprisingly well coordinated - it would probably take computer analysis to determine who had the faster draw...Not that it mattered.(Granted, CL's paranoia would probably give him the edge.)The crew needed all the time they could get. Harkahn and Volo would need to get whatever had just been uncovered in that pulsating heap into the Bullet, and the rest of them would need to load up as well.

Rivierre took cover behind some protruding lump of wreckage, focusing her efforts on covering Volo and Harkahn as they moved with all their might to get that prize back to the Bullet.

As always, A.P. and wife did not seem exceptionally concerned for their own lives, as if they were thoroughly immune to all dangers. Or at least, as if they thought they were immune to all dangers. Alexia trotted back to the Bullet, hopped in and over the heaped salvage into the pilots' seat. She primed the engines, preparing for a quick takeoff once everyone was aboard.

In all the commotion, nobody noticed the remarkably out-of-place fox-kid go leaping from the brush, bounding across that now forgotten corner of the clearing and toward the little black shuttle.

---

The explosion was somewhat muted in the expanse of the hollow, empty halls of the abandoned subarctic military base – but the dead silence of that dead place was enough that it could be heard clear as day. It was just about the last thing that any of the wandering soldiers had expected, so naturally all six of them drew their weapons.

”Ducote!” Dallen called harshly as she raised her rifle and went bounding down the hallway toward the explosion. Sand unshouldered his own and was hot on her heels. The three Hitzen soldiers drew their weapons but held their position for the moment – and poor Reltakov just fumbled uselessly for his sidearm and clutched it at waist-height, staring at a wall.

Dallen and Sand rounded the corner to see Ducote climbing out from his cover and entering the control center. They were moving closer when the lights began to turn on throughout the complex. The heavy, mechanical sound of industrial strength lights, rhythmic and hollow in the implication of incredible space they foretold.

”Dammit Ducote! Tell us before you go settin’ off ******’ grenades!” Dallen scolded him, with a growl. She shook her head in residual frustration and lowered her rifle. ”Alright, so we got the lights on. Place ain’t no less creepy. So what now?”

The three of them stood in that old control center. Sand was paying particular attention to the old monitors and screens as they slowly, sluggishly flickered to life after however many years – or decades – of inactivity. It was a symbol that none of them could recognize which appeared on each, marking the activation before flicking to whatever incomprehensible, technical screen it was intended for. Most of it was information useful only to an experienced operator – none of which were present. Still, it was a very unusual symbol.

The whole place seemed outdated, too. The lights had proven that already, but getting a better look at the chunky computers, the cumbersome control panels – practically archaic. Not exactly low-tech, but still old.

But none of them were computer experts – not even Reltakov or the three Hitzen soldiers – so a trove of information would go forever unknown to them, unable to be dug from the old operating systems. The whole story of the Sol Republic, of the Great Rebellion and subsequent Great Exile, and the eventual rise of the Galactic Empire as a biplanetary faction was locked away for good, and all they had to go by was a single symbol which was left to tell the tale through its’ existence alone.

”Wonder what that is.” Dallen mused, looking at it.

”I recall seeing something similar. It was more of a diamond shape though, symmetrical. Emblem for some kind of huge Empire or something, I’m not sure…Don’t quote me on it.” Sand said, scratching at his sandy bearded chin.

There was a long moment of silence. Lights blinked on the control boards. Gradually the distant, gentle humming of old atomic power generators could be heard as they warmed up, bringing life to other portions of the facility.

”Okay, so now what?” Dallen asked again, impatiently.

---

Royanna Kallenger shook her head, still staring down at the floor between her legs, and scowled. ”No respectable military unit uses one of their own as a decoy. Regardless of the situation.” the words were mumbled, but harsh. There was a drastic softening of her voice following them, however. A rueful little smile. ”But I guess I’m in no position to be criticizing.” the words were as bitter as their meaning, but the softness of her tone indicated clearly that the bitterness was solely inwardly directed.

More clearly, she said ”Sure. You should rest too.” and after a moment, just as her companion was turning to leave, she added ”Thanks, kid.” And that was the end of it.

She sat there for most of the night, just thinking and hating and dwelling. Resentfully she thought about how in all her training she was never taught to deal with failure – but it was a thought quickly replaced with more inward regret and self criticism. They didn’t need to teach how to cope with failure since failure wasn’t an option. Of course. It was simple.

But eventually sleep – however restless – did come, and in the early hours of standard morning she found herself awakening with a stupefyingly sore back and slight vertigo. Probably should have laid down before letting herself pass out, instead of falling asleep sitting up and leaning over like that. She growled at nobody and tried to stretch the ache away, but nothing could get rid of that sort of misery except time, so time it was.

A few minutes of sitting there alone. There were no windows obviously, so the only way to tell time was by the clock upon the wall. It would not read like a ‘normal’ clock, considering that the time it displayed currently was [02:98]. This was because it was a clock running on Galactic Standard Time, which was constant everywhere throughout the Galaxy. It functioned on a system of multiples of five – ten months in a year, five weeks in a month, ten days in a week, twenty hours in a day, one hundred minutes in an hour, one hundred seconds in a minute. Planetary or ‘local’ time was still used where applicable, but since that method relied on the movement of the planet and all planets moved differently the local time was always incompatible with other worlds – and especially with entities not on any planet at all, such as the Imperial ship that Kallenger and Christofer were currently aboard.

Royanna stared at the clock on the wall for a few minutes, and was suddenly stricken with an almost urgent need to check on Christofer. She stood and moved to the door, crossed the hall, peered through the crack in his door to make sure he was okay. Presumably he was fine, so presumably Kallenger would silently scold herself for getting so suddenly worried like that over nothing. Especially over nothing. It was bad enough getting worried about this kid in the first place…

But then, since it had all started she found herself gradually less concerned with her militant habits. It was almost as though in her defeat she had simply given up on it all. She had not, of course – but the things that had been so important to her only yesterday seemed so far away now…

Against her better judgment, Royanna went ahead and slipped silently into Christofer’s room, careful not to go waking him and taking a seat in the chair at the other side of the room. Leaning back in it was initially a furious pain which shot through her spine in agonizing waves of misery, but once that had subsided it proved to relieve much of the soreness from nodding off in that hunched over position from before.

Again the Special Agent nodded off to sleep and wouldn’t wake again until some small sound would stir her – probably somewhere in the vicinity of [04:72]. That being the case, she would probably awaken for the day shortly after Christofer did.

---

Kete looked vaguely as though he had tasted something bitter and was seriously considering what to do about it.

”Drat.” he said, still inaudible to all but himself and the Eoclu. Just barely he resisted the urge to snap his fingers in that tacky gesture which usually went along with ’drat’.

Well he certainly didn’t know how to fly one, that was for sure. It was strange, considering his thorough integration with all things technological – but piloting a spacecraft of any shape or size required more than mere technical knowhow to pull off. It was an art, it required training, and for all his adventures Ketin Clarke just couldn’t bring himself to learn how to do it. Sure, he could manipulate just about every component of even the largest starcraft – but that was little use in actually moving the vessel in a controlled fashion without getting everyone stuck to the ceiling or killed. Every once in a while he could manage to activate an auto-pilot, but that was only given that there were preset specifications instructing the autopilot what to do. He couldn’t do that, either. Too much math.

So Ketin couldn’t fly anything spacefaring. (Really he couldn’t fly anything designed to lift more than a maximum ten feet off the ground! Most hovercraft were within his knowledge, but there was no such vehicle for some distance, so this was irrelevant.)

He didn’t bother to clarify that yes, he had indeed meant to say ‘shuttle’. Damned if anyone had used the word ‘spaceship’ in some three hundred years…But it was best forgotten about, if he could manage so.

This was a perplexing situation. He knew he did not want to be on this planet anymore. It was the kind of place – like so many others – that needed to just be left behind, sent into the lofty realm of memory where not-so-positive things were stored and fermented into something that could be more easily accepted to the conscience. This old rock was giving off some bad vibes. Too much badness had happened here. It wasn’t doing anything for his policy of avoiding bad things to pretend that all was well in the great shiny ‘Verse and continue condoning the admittedly unhealthy procedure of turning a blind eye to the ever-present negatives en masse.

The decision of what to do next, however, was promptly made for him when a knight made of scrap metal appeared in the far end of the clearing, bellowing flames and seeming generally threatening.
Kete had seen plenty of things that were significantly more ominous than that – so why did the sight of it give him such a knot in his stomach? Probably because when he tried to look into its’ mind he was faced with a surreal, paradoxical and impenetrable wall of nothingness. Alien brains were always vastly different to that which he was most accustomed to (since non-humanoid alien species constituted an extreme minority in the Galaxy) but this one was the strangest he could think of. Perhaps there was some way of seeing into it – some special mode of thinking or subtle, indirect shifting of perspective. Maybe he needed a more abstract take on it. But none of that mattered. That thing, in a nutshell, gave Kete a considerable case of anxiety.

It was a split-second decision, and one that he was likely not completely in control of making. Without warning, while everyone else (except, surely, his Eoclu shadow) was distracted by the appearance of the scrap-knight he leaped from the brush and scurried through the open toward the Bullet, floating there a few inches above the ground, bobbing gently in the currents of space. The little guy was like lightning. Like a flea. He dove behind the small shuttlecraft so that it sit between him and all the commotion.

But instead of just hiding there – which would have been stupid – he made with wriggling through a small opening in the side near the bottom. As for what purpose it had been intended for, that was a mystery – probably some unfinished feature or perhaps a port for some addition – but the truly remarkable part was that the little door – some 2.5 feet squared – had slid up for him as he approached. Why in space would it have done that? It wasn’t as though it were the main entrance to a craft that would open freely for anyone desiring to enter. It was a little forgotten maintenance panel toward the rear of a little stealth shuttle. The thing shouldn’t have opened itself for anyone, really.

But it opened for Kete and he wriggled through it, boarding the Bullet in secrecy. It would be just wide enough for his Eoclu shadow to crawl through as well, assuming she so chose.

Once inside it was a simple matter of settling down somewhere out of sight. They were already in the far-back of the cabin, which made things simple. The seats ended bus-style a few feet before the far wall, which left some space for cargo. Luckily for the stowaway(s) that all the salvage had been carelessly strewn and heaped onto the floor near the main door, else he wouldn’t have this cozy little nook to huddle down in behind the farthest-back seat and entirely hidden from all but he who would see some reason to go peering into the ‘trunk’. The seats would be high enough that Nirix would be able to hide efficiently as well, and if she did choose to follow him in, the little door would quietly close behind her.

And Kete just sat up against the wall there, smiling like an idiot.

The Dendril pyro took all the hits from Aelyn and CL each one of there shots making holes in its chest and from the back from where the exit wounds are one could see a burst of orange-yellowish goo coming out. Despite the shoots having landed hitting there mark, it only made the pyro stagger in place and then continue to march forward upon there position. It walked and spit out fire from its cylinders it spoke in Dendrilic language: "Lo ha ne Ke Sa"(Death for the Glory of the Supreme One). Of course, Aelyn's gun could easily two shot a common Dendril fighter but not a Pryo since they are usually operate on there own without support they were created to be tough and able to take a beating, but those shots did do damage to it, but it's zeal and dedication to the Supreme One(Lord Erica) keep it going and even more intent in killing its combatants ahead until something unusual happen...

Seeing Ketin make his move prompted Emperor Arthur to make his move. At the same time Ketin moved to the bullet so did Arthur moved to engage the Pyro monstrosity. As he ran to get into position he looked at Volo and Harken and yelled at them "Oi! The component you are looking for is by the engine flux capacitor, it has the data you want" Arthur knew this since before running out he scanned the area for objects of interest and saw that object he pointed out as an important piece since it was heavily locked storage data device. As author got into position to engaged he turned on his over-shields to the max and his electrical magnetite field on as well. He positioned his hands forward did not extend his arms so it being closer to his body. Arthur let lose the dark matter infused lightening fly, striking the marching Knight. As the lightening struck the Pryo it made stop in its tracks but it started to move once more but at a much slower pace. "Alright you two give that thing everything you have, expend your entire clip into it and it will go down...these things are tough but not invincible" he ordered them expecting them to comply. In Arthur's head, he doesn't the reason why he's helping Aelyn but to him getting killed by a Dendril is not what people deserved to be killed by, based on his data files on the Dendril despite them and Kampfer's forces be on complicated terms on each other.

Arthur just hopes that the two will comply and not turn there guns on him as he try's his best in bringing down such a strong opponent

As the boy got back to 'his room' he'd still not feel satisfied. Sure it had been nice that Kallenger had thanked him and then he had smiled to her in return, but it just felt incomplete. No matter if she thanked him or not, he wasn't satisfied. He had done a poor job and he scholded himself for it. But there was nothing he could do now. If he went back, Royanna was going to be angry or at least become angry. Going back to 'try again' would achieve nothing.
The boy was left with nothing but a slight guilt. There was nothing. The best he could do was to get back to resting in the bed and hope that everything would be better when they'd wake up...


At first the boy would flinch, jump back a bit and curl himself in a more defencive position. The appearing of Kallenger had scared him, or rather just taken him By surprice, but he hadn't expected for her to be there when he'd wake up or such. When he had opened his eyes, his vision had still been blurry and his thoughts were more pulled towards the feeling of hunger and his focus was in figuring out how he'd get food for himself - not on Kallenger, as rude as that sounds. Upon realizing that the person was the woman and not some random stalker, Christofer relieved himself from the state of panic. A change of clothes really messed his awaking head up

"Good Morning." He'd greet her, too sleepy to smile but his face would wrinkle as he'd try hold back a yawn, unfortunately failing at it - the sound escaping from him would most likely sound closer to some weird small animal or anything similar to that, instead of a regular 'human yawn'. "How was your night?"
The boy would get up from the bed, slowly sitting up and then carefully reaching down towards the floor, placing his feet on it softly with the right one being the first and left following after that. To finish it off, he'd stretch, rather stiffly though as his body was trying to get used to moving and stretching again

The boy would move his focus onto Kallenger, momentually forgetting about the hunger he was going through. He'd note that her movement seemed rather stiff and it got him worried.
"Ummm... Are you ok? Are you hurt?" He'd ask, concerned. "I can massage you or you or your back if you'd want to? It could help." The boy would keep on insisting on giving her a massage for a good 5 minutes if she'd not take the first offer. Massaging was something the boy had done before, so it was just one of his random talents and uses. The spot and area being massaged would wholely depend on Kallenger and, well, the whole treatment would be depending on her opinions - other than the fact that Toffi was determined on going through with it, that couldn't be changed.

Within moments the pile of rubble started shuffling it started shifting and lifting itself off the ground two and the pulsating light lifted as a much larger light came into view, it looked to be an eye or a camera for a sensor. Whirls of gears and shots of steam sounded as the giant lumbering pile of what looked like scrap came to life. Eventually it began moaning and groaning "Ugh... Several systems offline, I don't have my legs, this is great" The huge piece of metal seemed to have a sense of sentience almost like a living creature, but it's algorithm was merely a copy of a brain, what kind of brain was the question though. Eventually after shaking it's one great eye it shifted into view of CL and looked around at others "Who are you? Am I on Earth? wait... wasn't it wiped clean? So then what planet have the species migrated to? Wait a second... you were supposed to be wiped along with your planet? We must've hesitated for too long... oh well so be it" and the giant machine kept rambling on and on to itself spouting what seemed to be utter nonsense.

After the loud blast from Aelyn's gun, the Ranger couldn't contain himself from taking a peek from his cover to see if the creature was still on it's feet. Unfortunately, his expectations were proven to be wrong as the biomechanical beast still kept marching towards them. If a barrage of high caliber AP rounds and whatever Captain Petrovalyc shot from his gun, what could possibly take that beast down? Again, CL darted to the other side of the clearing, this time lobbing a common HE grenade towards the Dendril, managing to skillfully use his rifle as he ran towards the cover from a thick boulder nearby. CL would swap a magazine from his LRM T-72 and proceed into another firing run... If not by the intrusion of a new comer and his fancy trick...

The Mad Ranger's had his eyes wide as a witness of the firepower used in front of him. Easily identifiable as an anti-matter based weapon, the Ranger were even more surprised that his alien enemy wasn't immediately disintegrated upon receiving a direct hit from such power. The insanity didn't even had started: This possible ally didn't even tried to communicate through radio before charging into battle. Regardless of how small this confront was, this is war: Either civilian or enemy, merely being unknown was a valid reason to be a potential target and CL's actions wouldn't be too different from unloading his weaponry into the newcomer... But instead, he preferred to watch further.

Then a machine-like being emerged from the wreckage... Enemy or friend? The Ranger didn't wanted to know. For him, their position have been already detection. His 'mission', failed. "Aelyn, ****'s FUBAR." - CL clumsily reached for his BrainPal input. - "Grab your team's *** and get **** 'outta here. I'll provide you with some cover while you take the shuttle off. Catch up with 'ya at the Stella later."

And just like that, Ketin had once again, flipped the situation on an entirely different side than the one Nirix wanted to see. He hadn't uttered a word to her, nothing but his usual of not informing the Eoclu whenever he made a decision, before Nirix noticed that he had transitioned from by her side to inside the nearby shuttle craft with all the speed and grace of the deadly predators of her homeworld.

Nirix sighed inwardly. She had expected as much from the Da'len but it still made her want to scold him nonetheless. Being attached to him was growing to be more troublesome than she had thought.

She was indeed his shadow, mimicking his movements to only be crowded into the small space with the boy. He was smiling, the kind of smile that one wore when they had accomplished something significant.

Nirix knew whether not to scold him right then or to keep quiet. The sounds of a large conflict outside, eventually made her choose the latter. What exactly was going on? What was Ketin's plan by boarding this shuttle? Where would it take them? Nirix hoped that whomever it belonged to, it would not be of Kampfer's forces. Regardless, her hand traveled to the hilt of her sword and squeezed it with a tight grip.

Nirix would protect them both

[Extra filler post]

Not too long after Aelyn's & company atmospherical entrance, a small amount of anomalous particles started to show around the high-orbit of 'New Earth'. While invisible to the naked eye, any X-Ray or Infrared sensors would be able to easily pick it up. The anomalies just kept increasing and some instants later, multiple readings of this same effect started to pop out in an uniform fashion, hinting to some sort of intelligence behind this curious phenomena.

Though rare on some parts of the universe, those anomalies were pretty known since the earlier days of humanity. Rarely man-made, natural byproducts of micro amounts of exotic matter: Small, one-way wormholes. Interplanetary missiles? More marauders seeking to find Earth? Another galactic empire? It was next to impossible to precisely foresee what those wormholes would spit out.

The problem Emperor Arthur faced – and likely the greatest flaw in whatever scheme he was concocting – was that he looked nothing like Bravo or the new bot. In Aelyn Paeryc’s mind, that translated to ’Enemy’ and he did not hesitate to turn his gilded revolver on the lightning-spewing thing which, he couldn’t help thinking resentfully of, thought it had a right to give him orders. HIM! A.P. Petrovalyc, self-proclaimed father of the colonial space age, take orders from some kind of robot? Preposterous. He’d have shot it down on that alone.

The adaptive nature of the bullets – and even the incorporation of that impossible Not technology however, did not make Aelyn’s weapon the ultimate tool of destruction. The projectiles were not entirely unable to be defended against, and the possibility of Arthur’s advanced tech giving him excessive resistance to them was very real. Ever balanced however, the incredible energy from the thing would have to go somewhere – so if the bullet struck true, it would have some effect. At the least it would send the target for a loop, give it a good toss across the room.

As such, whether the bullet actually damaged Arthur or not, it would seem to Aelyn that he had accomplished the deed and he would turn his attention immediately elsewhere – to what he figured was the real problem at hand. Funny, how the Captain seemed to underestimate potential threats. One might wonder if his split-second decision and disregard would have come so easily if he knew exactly who he’d just fired upon.

Presently, a hulking heap of scrap metal had apparently come to life, and in his usual manner of dull, half-emotion this seemed to slightly surprise A.P. Petrovalyc, who raised one brow in curiosity. Drakis Volo and Dorin Harkahn seemed to be much more surprised, considering their initial, dual reaction was to go stumbling back with eyes wide. The two of them cussed excessively and colorfully – this being strange for the Doctor but fitting for the situation.

”It ain’t got no legs!” Volo observed, sharply. ”How the hell are we gonna’ get it back to the ship?”

Harkahn did not reply to this, but the operation was nonetheless coordinated via BrainPal™ communication between the entire crew. The plan was simple and no words need be spoken – Aelyn Made his way into the Bullet’s main door and Alexia raised it immediately into the air almost before her husband had even stepped onto the thing. A skilled pilot, it was no trouble to glide it over to the robot’s position and land close enough that, between the four of them, surely they would figure some way of getting it into the little shuttle.

The craft hung some two feet above the ground. He glanced over the puzzle, wondering briefly if they could just roll the damn thing aboard – but, how big was the damned thing, anyway? Hard to tell, given the generally scrappy nature of it. Given the nature of it all it was the perfect excuse to take advantage of one of the little Bullet’s more seemingly unnecessary features. What good was the technology of any obscenely wealthy man if it didn’t have a few obscure features?

The Bullet was essentially composed of layers of hypercarbon stealth-panels, all wrapped around the hollow core. This allowed for increased speed and decreased delectability, as well as an almost impenetrable shield against any sort of radar or waves of any kind to penetrate in or out. (The lattermost feature was fundamentally useless.)

The layers allowed for some versatility however. BrainPal™ integration allowed him to access the functionality of his obscure feature and activate it, though there were still two small latches on either end which needed to be tossed before anything would happen. The first was right beside the door from which he had only seconds prior entered – the other was in the back, where cargo would typically be stored. It was when he glanced in that direction and began making his way hastily that he noticed the very tips of what appeared to be white ears. This was puzzling. More puzzling, in fact, than the scrap-robot.

Most of the salvage had been shifted to the far side of the craft now, allowing clear passage down the center lane between wall-mounted seats. Squinting in perplexion, Aelyn strode to the back, flipping the switch he needed as he went – and he was equally baffled at what he saw when he got there. This was ridiculous.

Stowaways?!

He just stood there for a moment. Much too long of a moment considering the fire-spewing alien knight and other assorted chaos looming just outside the little ship’s thin walls. He gave the two of them, going back and forth between them, quite possibly the most confused expression anyone ever formed upon their face in the history of mankind. Doubly hilarious given his typically unemotional expression.

---

Royanna Kallenger had fallen asleep in the chair in the corner opposite to Christofer’s bed in, admittedly, something of an unflattering position. Not that it really mattered, but having spent the first half of her night sleeping hunched over, it was tantalizingly relieving to spend the other half bent almost painfully over the back of the chair. One extreme to the other – it provided a sort of relief for the moment, but would most certainly result in further soreness when morning came at last. This was not, however, what was on Royanna’s mind. Very little was, in fact.

She was half awake when Christofer bid her a good morning. She was half startled from half wakening, but she showed it only subtly, with a slight jump at his words. The jump was followed in the same motion by a wince as the sudden, if miniscule motion reminded her sharply of just how much her back was currently hurting.

”Hey, morning Kid.” she replied, faring well enough in masking the minor embarrassment of having been half-startled from half-sleep. The pale tint under her eyes was more than enough to show that she’d not had the best night, so her reply to his first question was not entirely necessary – nevertheless she said tiredly and frankly ”Long.”. No use in lying to the kid.

But as he shifted his attention more in her direction and became concerned, Roya found herself suddenly on the defensive – in a way. That was just about the last thing she wanted – someone to be concerned over her. Especially over something as insignificant as a sore back. Even if it was a very, very sore back. So she smiled with a hint of humorlessness, but just enough humanity in it to make clear that she was, in fact, by some miracle of the universe, attempting humor.

”I’d say so.” she said, pointing loosely at her left shoulder, the bandage showing just barely through the white cotton T shirt that looked so out of place on her.

But things only got worse from there. Her smile drained instantly and, by a second miracle of social development, the woman flushed. ”Huh-? Oh, no it’s fine.” And following that first awkward refusal was a good five minutes of denial in progressively less adamant fashion.

”Really, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it. Just forget it. It’s not necessary. No. No. I won’t accept it. I won’t impose that on you. I’ll just take something for it. I’m fine. You shouldn’t be worrying about me. Alright, fine.”Her eventual acceptance was ferociously reluctant, shadowed by a glaringly obvious shield of forced indifference to drain what little humanity she could manage out of her words. This was probably to be expected of her by now.

In a further display of acceptance, she leaned forward in the chair – this would allow Christofer easy access to her shoulders from behind. Even though most of the pain was in her lower back, it seemed more dignified to admit her ‘defeat’ with minimal effort. She wasn’t going to go laying down or anything – she would not allow that sort of attention to be given, to her, dammit!

But Roya positively melted within seconds of the talented masseuse’s touch. Soundless, but the immediate sense of ease and loss of tension that flooded over her was more than enough to show the appreciation that she would be unable or unwilling to voice. It was that easing of muscular tension that drastically reduced the previously sharp soreness of her lower back. It even helped with the headache that was pounding rhythmically at her eyeballs.

”Great Space, Kid.” she mumbled after some time. “You’ve got a talent.”

---

Kete leaned against the curved wall of the Bullet, still smiling stupidly at his friend. It didn’t take long to become clear that not only was he happy with the result of his blatant and astonishingly stupid decision, he was actually amused by Nirix’s reaction to it all! Infuriatingly amused! It would be enough to make the average person want to smack the smile right off his face, if such a thing were even possible. What a brat.

Ketin Clarke did not know about the structure of the little ship in which he had stowed away so cleverly and unintelligently. Sure, he could manipulate most functions on an on/off basis. He could even engage the engines if he wanted, though steering would be out of the question and he would only end up crashing within the first couple seconds, possibly killing some or all of the occupants and bystanders. This was all irrelevant information. What was relevant was the fact that Ketin Clarke did not know anything of the structure of the vessel – he did not know about the layered construction, and he did not know about the seldom-activated feature which turned one whole side of the thing into a huge, bay door.

But when sensitive ears picked up that little snap of the second latch being thrown, he jumped. It took only an instant to feel where the minuscule current was going within the bowels of the thing, and determine that the wall he was so comfortably and casually leaning upon was going to be leaving him – which it did.

The entire right side of the Bullet raised, circling into the left side as though twisting the segments of a telescope. This resulted in the seats – which lined the wall subway-style so that passengers faced each other – going up with them, and within a few seconds they were mounted uselessly upon the ceiling. It would be much easier to get a bulky, legless robot into the thing this way. Kete leaned forward just in time to keep from tumbling out through the now open space where the curved wall had once been. This was a relief – however he had been so focused on this that he had failed to notice the eyes of the man coming down the aisle toward them – and toward imminent discovery.

Presently he was faced with the incredibly and almost humorously confused face of a man with long, black hair and terrible, inky black inverted eyes. It was those haunting eyes that made his befuddlement that much more hilarious to see.

But amusing as the man’s pale countenance was in so distorted a state, Kete did not laugh. He was much too busy trying to think of a way to not get blown away by that long-barreled, gaudy-as-hell revolver in the man’s right hand. The man looked back and forth between him and the woman for that long – much too long moment. He stepped closer, almost as though to get a better look, to squint his eyes and confirm that he was indeed seeing the ludicrousness before him.

Kete grinned uncertainly and said ”Heh, uh, Earth City shuttle inspection~?” but the man wasn’t having any of it. He blinked. Then he raised his gun to press the tip of that long barrel right into the fox kid’s forehead.
Most likely this would result in immediate reaction from the woman – whom he had noticed was armed, at least to some extent – exactly how heavily armed he could only guess. For this reason, he would change his mind almost instantly, leaving the barrel there just long enough for the boy to go ghost-white pale from it before aiming instead at the woman – who however fast she may be, would not be able to move quicker than the hair-trigger finger which currently faced her.

But that did not seem to satisfy the man either, since he still looked confused – if more subtly, now. This was simply the last thing he had expected – save perhaps for Earth and Sol itself to come soaring from some wormhole and kill them all. Or perhaps for Half-Life 3.

The man seemed like he was trying to form words, to figure out what to say to this strangeness before him. Then at last he said in a tone which could only be described as ‘perplexedly appalled’; ”Get the Hell off my ship.”

And with those words, keeping the gun trained on Nirix, he proceeded with planting one booted foot – perhaps a tad more harshly than necessary, though who could blame him? – on the boy’s chest, and giving a good shove. This had the obvious reaction of sending him tumbling out of the ship, falling the two-and-some foot distance onto his back, with the unfortunate, but unintended consequence of hitting his head with some force upon some faceless hunk of scrap. It was by luck alone that he did not pass out, and was merely put into a state of intense dizziness for a moment. This resulted in the boy just laying there where he had landed, staring upward, blinking to maintain that he was, in fact, still conscious.

”Eughhh….owww~….”
As the Ketin was silently reminding himself of aforementioned consciousness, the man growled to the female intruder ”You too.” – though he would not kick her, feeling that it would likely result in a negative outcome for him. She had a blade, which meant she would probably be fast enough to completely thwart any attempt to physically remove her from the vessel.

As all this was happening, the scientist and mechanic were working on doing whatever they needed to do in order to move the robot to the Bullet’s now very open cargo space. By the time the Captain was demanding that the woman ditto her companion in the act of vacating his vessel, the two men outside would likely have gotten the robot aboard, or very nearly at any rate. Rivierre was continuing with suppressing fire from a well-covered position not far from the Bullet, so once everyone else was loaded she would need only a few leaps and bounds to join them. This meant that the Ranger would have one more chance to board with them – but A.P. would not hesitate to leave CL behind, if that was really what he wanted.

Using the part of his mind so habitually set aside for BrainPal™ functionality, he ‘said’ We won’t leave without you unless you’re certain that’s what you want. Current realspace co-ords are [P=4456.4:M-4t/112]. Won’t be able to communicate once we’re in Notspace so unless informed otherwise go to that spot and I’ll let you in. The Ranger would receive this in the synthesized ‘voice’ which replaced the conscious thoughtspeak, given that his model of BrainPal™ was the unintegrated, one-way version. It was like trying to play Perfect Dark without an Expansion Pak! Outrageous. So much wasted potential functionality.

Now everything depended on how the next few seconds would transpire. Whether or not the bot and crew would be loaded and the intruder vacated quickly enough to give them time to escape back to the Stella. Whether or not the battle ensuing not a hundred yards away would reach them.

Arthur felt the bullet make contact which forced him to the ground which made him stop firing his dark matter infused electricity out his hands, which now unhindered the movement of the Dendril Pyro. His shields took the full shot, which was able to spread the energy out from the bullet but it did cost him at least two of his over shields. He laid on the ground contemplating what has just happen. "W-why would he do that...the plan to bring it down was good...I-I don't understand.." he said as he continue to mumble to himself trying to wrap what just happened, but the Dendril responded some interestingly to the actions of Aelyn.

Now that it's movement his back to normal and seeing Aelyn shoot in its mind an ally the only thing that it would say in English is "TRAITOR!!",so loud that everyone in the crash sight hear And then picked up the pace this time intent burning Aelyn ash. The Dendrils may be a parasitic race with limited intelligence but loyalty to comrades is an important part to them abs Aelyn's actions completely offended it. Sadly though it will not get its wish, the HE grenade and the supporting fire was last nail into its coffin, it sputtered and oozed the yellow-orangish slime out of its nonexistent face, it soon stopped fully in its tracks then just collapse forward like a tree trunk putting up a large amount of dirt into the air as it made contact to the ground, before dying in its pool of blood it only sputtered "Traitor" one last time before dying.

"He surely is" Emperor Arthur exclaimed hearing the Dendril's final word. He flipped over to his back and looked at the Bullet and started putting down targeting systems and cooridantes into the battle network. High above a heavy cruiser got the numbers and started to make its way over to those coordinates to blast away the Bullet into pieces. It would take the cruiser a few minutes to get into to position to call down an orbital bombardment, but it did need to take it out on the ground since will be almost impossible to do if the Bullet went air borne.

After putting in the numbers for the strike he looked at CL and said to him "Thanks for not shooting me, but I do recommend leaving since Kampfer's forces will be on there way after they all detected this intense firefight". In a way Arthur was right that this large amount chaos that insued was bound to attract attention. Arthur just laid on the ground until he saw Ketin in the back of the ship. He shot straight up and ran towards him yelling his name "KETIN!" As he got next to him pulled him as quickly as he could from the bullet via grabbing his shirt(or jacket). The electromagnetic force field won't give Ketin a shock since his hands are touching him(I know weird) but if Nirix did try to make contact on any part of his body, she will surely get a shock via direct or depending if the blade has any insulation on it, then from the blade. The full tug away from the bullet made Arthur fall to the ground sitting there with Ketin between his legs, not touching them.

In an undisclosed Dimension...


The reason Kampfer left back to his own Dimension was because he is attending a meeting with the other Lords to discuss about this abnormality that appeared in the Void that separates Dimensions from each other. Little did they know(besides one person in the meeting) it was Aelyn's Not that were discussing. Lord Erica Codsworth, the Dimensional Lord of Time and Space knows the true nature of the abnormality being the Not. Her extensive library of knowledge over past millions of years is quite large and no mortal can escape time and so when the conflict between Aelyn and Kampfer broke out she took an interest at Aelyn and followed him, via the metal in his blood. To get Dendrillium you need to manipulate the molecular structure of any metal to get it, preferably iron and so that's just a breif explanation on how living creatures infected by Dendrils turn into one. She also can track by being in tuned with something called Time vibrations, a sorta unique signature that everyone has even Lords and she uses that to track individuals. As the meeting took place Lord Erica kept the knowledge of it a secret wondering what the other Lords are going to do about it.

"Jesus Christ." - The following were the only thing that came out from the Ranger's mask. - "What the ****... ?"
Now it was official. It has been a long time since he did it, but it finally happened again: The Ranger weren't dealing with amateurs or professionals, those guys were straight out Mad. Just like him. Up on the sky, right above the clearing, a long object immediately drew his attention, merely floating on it's own by means that CL could only speculate of being some sort of advanced gravitation technology. The only use he had seen on the battlefield for this kind of machinery to be attached to such large object didn't mean good news for him, Aelyn, or anybody there at all: Mass Bombing.

And now, that anti-matter-spewing cyber-warrior were right next to him. What else did he expect? What else did the Ranger looked like? Some sort of action movie hero? Did Arthur really thought it would be a remotely good idea to approach CL? - "Is that so??" - Arthur were quickly answered... - "... And I recommend you T҉O̗̹̺̲̰̮͉ G͢Oͦͯ͆͗̋ͤ̇ ̃͒̈́̽Ṫ̋O͢ ͢H̵EL̺̪̼̠̼̖L͌͐̍̔̃, ***͠**̀*̧**̢*̵*҉*͏*" - ... By a full-mag, accelerated AP burst with profanity on top. Arthur didn't even had time to get back to The Bullet before CL could unleash point blank hell on him, and the marauder weren't naive enough to just stand there: He blasted away from above Arthur using his Hydrogen Propulsion Module, leaving behind a thick cloud of dust and smoke from where he once was standing. Gracefully landing on the ground, CL made his run towards the proximities of The Bullet, inserting the last magazine available into his LRM T-72, getting ready for whatever would come towards them, specially if Arthur, surprisingly, had survived the violent volley.

"Yeah, I'll hang around a little longer!" - He shouted back at the crew, prepared to provide any supporting fire to Volo and Harkahn along with Rivierre.

"Ooh bugga this!" The great machine lifted an arm and as a blue light, much like Bravo's, lit up on the palm and his hand came crashing down emitting a wave that knocked down anything in it's path "I have no time for this, if someone is going to kidnap me hurry up with it" the bot grumbled and laid on his back with a grunt "Where are my legs?! I need my legs!" With how the bot looked now it looked a tall as Bravo proportioning his legs to the size of his body Bravo is half the size of said bot standing at roughly 6 feet tall.

For one who was placed in such a chaotic situation, Nirix displayed a mind of completely levelness and neutrality. Even when Ketin had been quite literally, kicked off the shuttle and the gun pressed to her head, the Eoclu remained calm.
"I will not leave unless you grant passage on this craft. If not for me, then allow the boy to board," She spoke smoothly, lavender eyes not wavering from the strange inky black eyes of the man whom held the gun. Nirix would stand her ground. The odd eyed man could shoot her for all she cared. However, it was Ketin who had to survive.

Nirix would grant him his freedom at any cost.

"If you require money, then that is no issue. I will pay whatever amount you deem acceptable. Just remove him off of this planet and away from Kampfer's forces," She said, eyes pleading with the man. Ketin had to get away, far far away and forget about this place. Nirix would be sadden to see the Da'len go but it would be worth it in the long run.

Without truly waiting for a response, She turned, hearing another shout Ketin's name. A strange...thing?(Nirix could not think of a word for it in her language nor in standard) It had called on him and attempted to dragged him even farther away. It must've been one of Kampfer's Z-bots, he would be coming to stop them. Looking towards the sky, she noticed the large ship that hovered ominously above them.

Yes, it definitely had to be his forces.

Snarling only slightly, Nirix drew both her sword and pistol, preparing herself for a fight. She knew what she would have to do.
"Please, don't leave just yet. I'll provide you with cover or whatever you need to escape but don't leave without Ketin. He needs a life of freedom. If you take him away from here, you will be forever in my and the Eocluan Empire's debt" Nirix tried one last time in a last ditch effort to save Ketin.

Drakis Volo spun about, looking around frantically for more positronic components. The legs would have to have positronic subskeletons, there was no way around that – so it would be the largest signal other than the new bot itself which would indicate legs. Then, suddenly, he was on the ground, with Harkahn equally disoriented. The thing had emitted some kind of shockwave. Drakis had had enough.

”Dammit, you oversized heap of rusty scrapped toasters! He snapped suddenly, harshly – more harshly than one might expect the man could speak. ”If you’re so advanced beyond human comprehension then why in the name of Space and the Stars can’t you just call them back to you and put them back on yourself?!”

”Hasn’t it occurred to any of you eggbrains that the thing is too damn big to fit in the Bullet?” Rivierre shouted, not bothering to use BrainPal™, having moved closer now. She may or may not have been right. The Bullet, with the full side cargo door opened, was about the volume of a double-decker coach bus. It all depended on the size of the robot, but if it did fit it was going to be a tight squeeze. This whole operation was ridiculous.
Even Harkahn was getting frustrated. ”WE don’t have time for this either! You need to help us get you onto that ship before-“ But his words were cut off with a sharp, distinct, thunderclap sound from within the Bullet.

---

It appeared, for all intents and purposes, that CL had largely decimated the unknown entity that had made a dive for Kete, then – apparently – died. Or mostly died, anyway. It certainly looked wounded. Kete did not, however, take note of this. He did not take notice of much of anything, in fact – because the second he left the miniature magnetosphere of the Bullet’s insulated stealth material, his head exploded.

Or, at least, it felt like his head exploded. Was still exploding. One terrible, inverted black hole of furiously intense pain, like every brain cell in his head was simultaneously committing suicide via electric shock.

The shocked, agonized expression was slow to fall over him, if only because the very pain of it seemed to hinder even the most basic functions. It felt like slow motion, like every second was, perhaps, five minutes. Not good.

He made a motion as though coughing heartily, eyes widening as though looking his own doom in the face, then let out an almost heartbreaking sort of cry, half-curling, arms over his head, clutching helplessly at it. Trying to drown out everything, and obviously failing in the endeavor.

It was all the kid could do to half heave himself off to the side, away from the thing that had caught him – but for all the distance he made before crumpling back to the ground it was as if he had tried to stand, but forgot he was a paraplegic. Rolling onto his side, he sort of kicked at the dirt and grass, trying to inch whatever minuscule distance he could manage.

But after about two feet he came to a chunk of wreckage, and could not move any farther. So he just writhed his way to a half-sitting position with back against the charred remnant, pulling his legs in and still clutching at his head, doubled over, whimpering pitifully and trembling rather violently. Given the look of his hands, every muscle in his body had been tensed taut. He was breathing heavily, rapidly.

Emperor Arthur was, as previously stated, equipped with multiple electromagnetic shields of incredible strength and power. It had taken Aelyn’s Wunderwaffe and an almost point-blank barrage of high powered, armor piercing rounds to get through them – for an electromagnetic shield, that was pretty intense. But for that reason, they were also intensely energized, since the force in itself was rather weak and needed to be drastically amplified.

In operation, the things would probably only given Kete something of a headache. The eye would be trying to process far more electromagnetic energy than it could handle, so long as he was within range – but there would be no damage, and no intense agony like now.

The problem was that Arthur’s shields had been depleted – or largely depleted, anyway – and each field generator when depleted would, naturally, overload. There was no getting around that – the excess energy would have to go somewhere, and there was a lot of excess energy. Generators that had been depleted would be emitting extremely high density electromagnetic pulses in a constant stream for a minute or two. If any of them regenerated, they would have to emit pulses with slightly more rhythm but with only an insignificant drop in intensity. Each generator was like a burst water pipe, operating on as high a pressure as carbon-steel could handle before bursting. They were, after all, really good shields.

An average electromagnetic pulse could put Ketin out of commission for a good while. This kind of pulse wouldn’t actually kill him, but it seemed like there was still a good chance of it.

And the worst part? Nobody would have any reason to know why he was suddenly acting this way.

With the Ranger having ceased fire under the presumption that his target was decommissioned, the Dendril dead and no longer spewing napalm death, there was a moment of relative quiet. Kete’s initial cry would have been drowned out by the last couple gunshots, only heard by Nirix, Arthur himself and possibly A.P.. His whimpering off in that corner was too subtle to really count. Just a brief moment of quiet. The huge thing above them wasn’t making any noise, nothing audible from down on the surface, anyway – too high up. As such, there was not a moment of relative peace - danger was still imminently looming overhead - but there was a moment of relative silence, nonetheless.

Ketin, in his lonely, blind universe of agony – did not react at all with the sudden, shattering thunderclap from the Bullet.

---

Aelyn-Paeryc Petrovalyc’s face continued to don that inconceivably baffled expression. Another lock of hair fell into his face and he didn’t bother to push it away, just looking through it in that mixture of appallment and disbelief.

Then, all at once he was angry. Furious, in fact. This was the last thing he needed right now. They were getting so close, but this was a critical moment. They still needed to get out of there before more bloodthirsty aliens or other dangers came out of the jungle, or before whatever that extremely disconcerting thing in the sky was decided to start dropping bombs. Get the robot aboard, leave the ranger to fight the weird, one-eyed thing that looked so similar to Kampfer’s creations, shoot back to Stella and get things sorted out. So close! and now some ridiculously dressed woman with a sword was sneaking onto his shuttle and demanding that she take – what, her kid? – with him.

Sure, Aelyn was still as big an advocate for keeping as many bridges from burning as possible, finding allies everywhere he could, as he did the ranger. But this was too much. Too much, too much, far too much. This was insanity. The fact that she was wasting precious seconds of his time trying to bargain with him only frustrated him more.

A trick of the eye, A.P. appeared to flicker slightly, similarly to when he had first crash-landed the Bullet in Kartupelis. His teeth were gritted, fingers with knuckles white gripping that gun.

In his rapidly multiplying revulsion for the whole ordeal, A.P. didn’t even dignify her with a response. She probably wouldn’t have much trouble dodging it if she could detect the movement of his finger – but due to their position and the size of the ship the only place to move out of the way would be out of it, in the same direction that Kete had gone.

In an incredible stunt of rage-induced stupidity and bitterly defiant spite, he fired.

Everything in Arthur's head was going horribly wrong than he predicted. After being shot at by CL, his shields were depleted and one would see a small burst of energy come off his body as the last shield went, but the burst was faint though and only be notice if someone was really focused on him. Despite being shot that lowered his shields, Arthur didn't want to be shot at once more and so as he sat there motionless, he overloaded a certain section of his right shoulder which gave out a slight electrical burst. It did minor damage but of course being highly advance and using powerful tech that is obviously useful at close range, Kampfer installed a auto repair system on him, which kicked in and started to repair the over load part of his body even though it was a small part.

Emperor Arthur just sat in the same position as everything happened around, sitting there like he was shell shock. "Why?" he question himself "Why, have a happy personality if everyone around you is not, isn't the concept of that personality is to spread joy?" he asked himself as he looked around, glancing at the crew with the large robot, at CL, listening to his shields recharge 3 times. He glance at Ketin in which he didn't try to stop moving away and said to himself "Why? Why did you move away from an ally, I am worthy or not? Is this a senerio of to be or not be? I'm I the fool?" He glanced up at the sky and sees the heavy cruiser priming its guns up, since the cruiser's target is the Bullet, the crew made sure to put a narrow bombardment, meaning shooting at the Bullet and try not to hit around it. Arthur came too and realized there was one more on the ship and decided to do one more crazy act of courage, he primed his hands once more and put a lot of energy into his legs and dashed towards the Bullet intending to save the woman he only glanced at as he pulled Ketin away. He came from the side of the ship and went behind Nirix. He would go and grab her hips and pull her out. Then as just as Aelyn fired at her, he would take the hit right at his head, bring down two of his shields down once more. And before getting shot at again by Aelyn he raised his hands and a recording came up, it was in the voice of Emperor Papaltine and it said "Feel the power of the Dark side of Force!" and then precede to give Aelyn a burst of high voltage dark lighting at him. He only hoped that his decision this time was a good decision and won't get a bullet to the back of him from Nirix.

As CL turned around to take a more attentious look at whatever was left of the enemy, his arms dropped, his gun lowered as he witnessed in awe how resilient Arthur really was. No way someone could take a T-72 burst up close and live to tell the tale. Or Kampfer's forces really did a great job making these shields or Yascra got those bullets from a really, really cheap merchant. Whatever was the reason, The Ranger had to fulfill his assigned job: Protect the Bullet, at whatever costs.

Throwing his rifle aside, The Ranger waved violently his right cybernetic arm upwards, immediately making it burst unto flames after a bright, blinding flash. The show was previously done on Bravo's presence at the Kartupelis' Battle and by any Kampfer's stray onlookers. It was easy to assume that Aelyn's quest to retrieve Bravo would be severely hampered in case the Ranger had struck the Combat Droid with this "weapon".

And the explosive-arm Masked Man were the only thing on Arthur's way towards the Bullet. His jet boots were already been proven to be on par against Arthur own electromagnetic impulsion system, so CL would easily catch up with him in case of a high-speed evasive maneuver. Bad for The Ranger's side, however, was how unpredictable was the effects of the Blast Arm over 'exquisite' tech. Things were about to get heated for both of them...

... Not waiting any longer, CL launched himself towards Arthur in an attempt to connect ONE PUNCH with the power equivalent to a single gigajoule explosive.

Harlan scuffs one foot on the ground. "My plan was just to get the generators up and running so we don't freeze to death in here, but I do have a hunch about this place." He walks into the security booth and turns on the bank of CCTV televisions. The screens flick on one by one. He looks at them in dismay, most of the camera lenses are shattered or frosted over. He turns back to the group. "What I do know about this base is that it was evacuated in quite a hurry about a decade ago. There was a rupture in on of the reactors I think, and they came back here once a few years ago to fix it so it didn't go nuclear. The place was abandoned pretty damn fast so I'd like to believe that they might have left behind some equipment in their hurry." He pauses to breathe out. "Okay, hows about we split up and search this place for anything that might be useful? I'll go for the hangars." He points at one of the Hitzen soldiers, "You and Dallen. Come with me. The rest of you can decide where to search. I want every Hitzen soldier to be accompanied." He takes a look at the map of the base plastered on the wall of the security booth then turns and starts off down the hall, followed by Dallen and the Hitzen soldier.