//------------------------------// // XI. The Shield // Story: The War in Heaven // by voroshilov //------------------------------// “The Emperor demands much from his servants. He handsomely rewards successes and harshly punishes failure. Such is his way, such is the way that keeps the Empire running.” - The Emperor’s Expectations by Michelle Drakum - "You have done well," the processed voice of Emperor Nicholas came from speakers all around her, "the gateway is secure. Soon we shall use it to begin transportation of soldiers and materials, this shall greatly assist our war effort. However, we have encountered a problem." "Problem?" Penumbra asked, bowed in supplication, "how may I assist in removing it?" "The gateway is just one of a number of structures, all around the galaxy, the vast majority of which have lain dormant for billions of years. The vast majority of them are similar to the gateway, in that they allow for the transportation of matter in space; most of these will never reactivate. But, there is one that has presented a number of anomalous properties, that are preventing the transits of our ships through the Rift, which are vital to facilitating our communications. Your orders are to travel to the Varia System aboard the Spite of Vengeance, there you will land on Varia Major and secure the Shield of Abaddon, located in the planet's northern pole. A task force will accompany you, go swiftly, time is of the essence." "At once.” Penumbra rose and made her way down to the hangar, practically sprinting down the long, samey corridors. The hangar itself was surprisingly quiet, with only a small number of maintenance personnel working on a pair of bombers and three Fusiliers in snow white armour with white cloth skirts down to their knees and hoods at the back of their helmets bulking up the neck joint by a dropship, similarly snow white, engines flared and ready. "Praetor Penumbra," one saluted, "we were told you were coming, hop aboard." Penumbra took up a seat in the middle of the left hand row, two of the new Fusilier class on her left side, with one two seats down to her right. Another three sat across from her, in an unbroken line. "You don't look like most Fusiliers I've seen," she said, addressing none of the individual Fusiliers in particular, "what's with the armour change?" "We're the 47th Guards Andromedan Snow Corps," one of them said, "trained and equipped specifically for warfare in sub-zero temperatures. Hence the armour change." She nodded. "How cold is it at our target?" "Very," they replied, "according to Emperor Nicholas, you should be able to handle the temperature without a change in clothing. We? We need special equipment." "How many are there?" "Thirty two thousand, that's what Emperor Nicholas allotted us. Five cruisers, along with our armoured division and air assets. Should be more than enough." When they arrived on the ship, Penumbra was greeted by a hangar full to the brim, barely enough room to land the dropship let along to disembark from it, with the corrupted alicorn having to manoeuvre her large frame up through the dropship's tail and then land on one of the few, thin pathways that had been made to allow soldiers to move back and forth. One of the Fusiliers, a captain by the red stripe painted onto his helmet, saluted her as she made her way along. "Navigation estimates we'll take two hours to reach the target if we enter the Rift now." "Get it done," the alicorn said, projecting her voice a little further so the walking Fusilier could hear her, "is everyone briefed for this mission?" "Yes, sir." "Good, start loading transports. We need to start getting this hangar clear the moment we enter the system." "Yes, sir. I'll pass it along." The Captain tailed off, marching down one of the few small, connecting pathways between the passageway they were in and the one to its right. When Penumbra reached the much wider corridor that led further into the ship, a pair of Fusiliers stepped up to her. "Sir," one said, "Emperor Nicholas has assigned us as your escort. Do you need anything?" She thought for a moment, collating her various intentions and plans into a list of demands. "I need a battalion of troops under my personal command, a medium tank, an orbital strike targeting beacon, and a mug of tea." One of them saluted. "At once, sir." They dashed off down the corridor. Their fellow opened the communication pad on their wrist, which appeared much more heavily insulated than the ones she had seen on other Fusiliers. "Praetor Penumbra has ordered for a battalion of troops to be placed under her personal command, with a medium tank attached as support. She's also requested an orbital strike targeting beacon, to be delivered to her personally. Over." A few seconds passed, "affirmative, tasking 3rd Battalion, 999th Division to her command. Anything else?" The Fusilier looked up at her, at her negative, they replied, "that's all, command, out." "How long will it be before I get the beacon?" "A few minutes, at most, sir." Penumbra nodded. "Are there any unoccupied officer's quarters?" "Yes, sir." The Fusilier pointed down the corridor. "First right, then third left, been unused for a while." "Very good, contact me when the ship is in position. In the meantime, go do whatever it is you'd do before a battle." The Fusilier saluted, before tapping out a message to their comrade, then marching up the corridor to get a drink themself. "Praetor Penumbra is in OFQ-11 on deck 13, deliver her tea there." Exactly an hour later, Penumbra received a message from the captain of the Spite of Vengeance, updating her as to their estimated time of arrival and current presence within the system. She hadn't sent a response, recognising a reply was not necessary, preferring to continue her light reading on the workings of the standard Proton Rifle used by Fusiliers. Ten minutes and thirteen seconds after she received the captain's message, the ship suddenly rocked and the sound of an explosive shockwave rumbled throughout the interior. Penumbra threw down her datapad and sprinted to the express elevator to the bridge, having already memorised the layout of the Truth class Light Cruiser, a layout standardised across all ships of the class. "Status report," she yelled the moment she entered the bridge, aiming at anyone who would listen, "what was that?" "Some form of planetary defence system," an officer yelled back over the din of the rest of the crew, "we're ascertaining exactly what and where now." The ship rocked again, then again, as more and more explosions erupted on the edge of the shields, emanating from green blobs fired from, apparently, all over the planet. The shields ran orange-red, appearing all over the ship as they struggled to recharge fast enough, just barely holding off the assault. "Source identified, sir." The same officer rose and moved close to Penumbra, "a number of defence platforms located periodically all over the surface, they're broadcasting a message in binary, ordering us to 'stay away, quarantine active'. Orders?" Penumbra allowed herself a moment to think, formulating a strategy, "Emperor Nicholas has ordered we claim the artefact as soon as possible," she mused aloud, before settling on her plan, "take us into the atmosphere, we'll use the cruisers as cover for the landings." The officer nodded. "Take us in, let's get moving!" The cruiser, at the head of the formation, began to angle, aiming directly for the magnetic north pole of the planet, approximately where the artefact was located. With a slight shunt, its speed tripled, the rest of the force following behind it. The planet-bound gun platforms continued firing, the shields buckling under the weight of the bombardment. Only when the cruiser broke atmosphere, fast enough that it caused a roar to erupt on the bridge as a shockwave burst around its entry point, did the vast majority of the gunfire stop. Steadily, the cruiser began to tilt, bringing itself to a stop, the movement only noticeable due to the slight movements of the dark patches of the cloud cover that filled the viewscreen in all directions. Only two of the platforms remained firing, though they seemed to target more the other vessels that were following up behind, entering the atmosphere with audible thumps. "We're fifteen kilometres over the target," an officer called out, "we're in the midst of a heavy snow storm, advise caution when landing." The fire of the gun platforms echoed as the final cruiser's shockwave dissipated, visible only through momentary green flashes behind layers of cloud. A silhouette hovered a few kilometres from the starboard side, another cruiser, though evident only through the faint orange glow of its shields. "Commence landings," Penumbra ordered, "then bring the ships around to draw the fire of the guns. Use the hulls as bait, keep them off the transports. Ground troops will knock out the guns." She turned and prepared to leave. "And you, sir?" "I'm going down there, if there's any action you think would require my authorisation, I'm giving it in advance." She entered the elevator, heading straight to the hangar, where a battalion should have been waiting for her. Sure enough, the moment she stepped out she was met by a squad of Fusiliers, with another pair joining them within a few seconds. One stepped forwards, a Major by the orange stripe on his helmet. "Major Felix, 3rd Battalion, 999th Division, standing by, sir." "Get all of the Battalion's transports launching together, Major. We're here to secure an artefact, we can leave the rest of the assault to the others." Penumbra followed the Major to her waiting dropship, with another squad of Fusiliers already in and ready to go. The pilot's voice came over the intercom, "get yourselves seated comfortably. We're going to be experiencing a lot of turbulence so fasten your harnesses and please remain seated until we're on the ground," silent over the din of the hangar, the dropship lifted off, passing out of the shield and instantly beginning to buffet about. "Battalion's moving with us," Major Felix shouted, "got our tank coming in too, where's the landing zone?" "I've marked it on your HUDs," she answered, "that's my closest estimate to the location of the artefact." The Major opened his wrist-mounted datapad, he looked at it for a moment, before looking back up. "It's close to one of the gun platforms?" She nodded. "I believe so. In fact, I believe it's underneath this particular platform. We can use the forces landing nearby to help us get inside." The Major thought for a moment, before nodding. "Good plan." The dropship's buffeting stopped, with only the shrieking wind and rhythmic thump of the gun platform as stimulus. A few seconds later, there was a light thud and the dropship came to a halt, the pilot's voice coming over the intercom, "we are on the ground, go, go, go!" The ramp fell heavily, the first squad of Fusilier running out, barely visible amongst all the snow in their camouflage. Penumbra and her squad quickly followed, the eyepieces on her helmet automatically accommodating for the low visibility and bombardment of snow. Ahead, at about fifty metres distance, stood a walker. This particular one was a dark green, though it had been covered in a coating of white to act as camouflage. Why they had not made it white to begin with, Penumbra didn't know, nor could she understand putting camouflage on a twenty feet tall armoured death machine with a glowing red eye. Nevertheless, the walker strode forwards, firing its two cannon arms into the direction of the gun platform, visible by its towering silhouette and, every twenty or so seconds, a burst of green light. "Platform's guarded by some automated defence systems," Felix yelled over the din of gunfire, "we've got a lot of fast movers." A platoon of Fusiliers ran by, firing orange bolts into the wall of snow ahead, three of their number were knocked down by thin beams of blue light, emanating from somewhere within the cover. Her goggles suddenly updated, allowing her to see hundreds of light green outlines of soldiers and vehicles through the previously impenetrable wall of snow, along with a number of red outlines of hostile bipedal drones and floating spheres. Behind Penumbra, her battalion had gathered, dug into the thick snow on the ground, spread out about twenty metres both left and right. With the whoosh of rapidly moving air, then a thump of something heavy hitting the ground, her tank was deployed, rumbling up to just behind the line of dug-in infantry. She surveyed the platform from a distance, using her goggles' enhancement of her vision to determine probable locations for an entrance. After a solid minute of searching, in which time hundreds of soldiers had passed her, as did many more gunshots, she had decided on a location, marking it with just a thought. "That should be the entrance," she said, knowing the troops with her could see what she meant, "move to secure it, use the tank as a ram to break the lines." "Ura!" With a thunderous, collective battle-cry, the battalion charged, Penumbra at the lead, the tank just behind her, infantry flanking in a flying-V. The first drone she met was badly damaged, its dark grey metal shell covered in scorch marks and missing one of its arms. She brought up her sword, suspended a couple of metres ahead of her in a magical aura, slicing the drone in two from its waist to its chest. The walker she had seen earlier moved to her left, having been joined by two of its fellows, laying down a creeping barrage that shattered the majority of the drones in its wake, giving Penumbra and her battalion a much easier showing. The gun platform came into view, towering at least half a kilometre over Penumbra's head, built of hundreds of varying sizes of black patterned blocks of unknown material; the gun itself was made of three tiers of black cuboids, each approximately eighty or so metres long, of decreasing width, recoiling every twenty or so seconds as a green bolt shot from its end and up into the cruisers far above. The site she had believed an entrance was visible, with slight shadows around its edges suggesting it was an indent of some kind. A field of some eight hundred drones, split in an approximate eighty to twenty ratio, lay between Penumbra and her entrance, with the numbers decreasing every step she took. Though several hundred Fusiliers were dead in the snow around her, several hundred more were pushing forwards, leaving many more destroyed drones in their wake. She came to a stop as she came across a makeshift foxhole, the two Fusilier crew of a pulse gun using it for cover, cutting a deep gash into the ranks of drones ahead. She dropped into the divet, most of her body sticking up out of it before she went prone, which meant only her upper jaw upwards showed. She crawled slowly up to the Fusilier not firing the gun, careful not to startle them or risk getting too close to the object of a gradually waning hail of gunfire. "I am going to charge that entrance," she said, pointing out her destination to the spotter, "I need you to cover me and my unit." The spotter nodded, tapping their comrade on the shoulder to relay the message. "Ready when you are, sir." Penumbra lit her horn, careful to angle it down so as not to draw too much attention. She contacted the rest of her battalion, all in various positions of cover around her, telling them to break for the door as soon as she gave the signal. Upon being asked what the signal was, she rose up to her full height and loosed a wave of magical energy in front of her, blowing away a large chunk of the drones as her forces began their charge. The pulse gun behind her made a thunderous rattle, being joined by many more like it, with what few drones stood directly in her path being ripped apart within seconds, hulls reduced to molten slag by the sheer heat of the pulse gun's shots. Penumbra reached the door first, blasting it with a bolt of magic so she didn't have to slow down. She barrelled straight through the door, which blew open on the force of her impact, crushing another three drones who had been standing within. She was soon joined by a pair of Fusiliers, the three pushing ahead down the small corridor, which opened out into a large, foyer type area. She moved aside to allow the rest of the battalion in, her tank simply waiting outside and holding the door, laying down a withering hail of fire into the remaining drones' back line. The foyer contained two staircases, one down and one up, taking up the tenth of the room. There was no decoration of any kind inside, with the material on the walls and floor apparently providing ample lighting. Penumbra signalled for her forces to begin to move down, then for the Fusiliers from other units to move up. Only within the confines of the building did she realise how cold she had been, patches of her fur completely frozen to ice, with her talons covered in a thin, mostly transparent sheen. "Sir." One of her soldiers - a Leftenant by the blue stripe on their helmet - jogged up and saluted. "Staircase down leads to a large elevator platform, more than likely, the artefact is down it." She nodded. "Just as I predicted," she allowed herself a moment of thought, devising a suitable plan of attack. "Get the troops on the platform, I'm going to see if I can perform a scan of this structure." The Leftenant saluted and ran off, delivering the message to the few squads of Fusiliers who remained in the foyer. Penumbra, meanwhile, removed a thin black cuboid from her armour's left saddlebag, placed it on the ground and placed a datapad on top. The pad flashed, a bar slowly filling up as it retrieved and downloaded the information she wanted. When the bar was full, the pad flashed again, the bar being replaced by a holographic projection of a three-dimensional model of the gun platform, with a number of readings taken from various energy signatures. As she had suspected, the controls for the gun itself lay above, guarded by around a hundred security drones - the forces who were already storming it would have little trouble dealing with them. The location of the artefact, or, at least, the location she would put the artefact, lay below, in the form of a large storage complex, with only a few dozen drones guarding it, mostly formed near the bottom of the elevator platform which led to it, guarding what appeared to be a large door - similar to one that would be put on a warehouse. Most of the energy signatures that had appeared were easily explainable, such as the firing chamber for the gun or the generator powering the elevator. However, one signature, in the storage area below, seemed to be emanating from empty space, not attached to anything or having any obvious reason for being there; then, without any reason, it vanished, as though it was never there to begin with. Despite the potential danger, Penumbra joined her troops on the platform, filled nearly to the brim with soldiers. Fortunately, the platform appeared to have been designed with much larger things in mind, allowing her several hundred strong unit to all travel down together. With a distant rumble, the elevator slowly began to descend, only the movements of the patterns in the walls informing them they were moving at all. With agonising slowness, the elevator opened out into the lower room, forty or so drones below looking upwards and readying their weapons. Penumbra thanked her soldiers' intelligence as they began to peak over the edge and open fire, cutting down drones before the soldiers themselves could be seen. The odd few threw grenades, which exploded with an odd "bwoah" sound below, until eventually everything went silent again. The platform touched down after far too long, revealing a field of smashed drones and an immense, closed, door ahead. The Fusiliers wasted no time, taking up guard positions and spreading themselves out in case something came through, whilst a team ran to the door controls - conveniently indicated by a bright green terminal - Penumbra close behind. "Door's been locked remotely," an engineer said, tapping commands into the terminal, which popped open a second later, "it'll take me a minute or two to open it." They removed a curved implement from a large pouch on their chest, which sparked momentarily before it began to cut apart the cabling the engineer aimed it at, doing so with flashes of white light and a thin spray of sparks. After much cutting and typing in the console, three mechanical thumps erupted from the door. "Door's unlocked," the engineer said, "stand back." They typed something else into the console, which beeped and the door rumbled again, opening with a painfully low speed. No drones waited behind it, not that they would have been able to do much given the sheer weight of Imperial forces ready for them, but it raised a niggling doubt in Penumbra's mind. Regardless, she shook it off and ventured inside the pitch black storage room. "Where's the lights?" She inquired, before lighting her horn. "Everything reconfigured when I unlocked the door," the engineer said, coming up alongside her with another squad, the flashlights at the crown of their helmets lit, casting a wide and strong beam of light, "must have knocked out the lights." Something clicked audibly in the darkness, the Fusiliers all instantly dropping to guard stances. "Stay frosty," a Sergeant said, as more troops joined Penumbra, weapons ready. The engineer who had accessed the door was engrossed in their datapad, with lines and lines of data scrolling by. They tapped a button, taking them to an isometric view of the room. "That can't be right," they thought aloud. "What?" The Sergeant next to them asked, "what is it?" The engineer shook their head. "Apparently," they pointed into the darkness, just in front of Penumbra, where a squad of Fusiliers stood, "there's something on top of that squad." The squad in question all looked up at once, before something clicked audibly again, followed by a deafening screech as a whirr of blades and metal crashed down into the squad, the Fusiliers having no time to defend themselves. The attacker was a large, mechanical torso with four sword-like arms, the two at the top twice the length of those below. A cylinder of blue through its centre seemed to keep it afloat, with a visible blue forcefield giving it a metre and a half or so distance from the floor. Its head was a diamond shape, with a single large, red eye in its centre. It spluttered out a loud, deep, roar of static. The Fusiliers began to move away, the odd couple firing as they did so, as the creature moved forwards, slicing anyone within five metres in half. "Fall back, fall back," a Sergeant yelled before their head suddenly became detached from their body in a flash of sword. Even Penumbra retreated, not willing to let such a quick and deadly adversary get any close to her. Ten Fusiliers, each armed with a machine gun, made a firing line, at some thirty metres from the attacker. With an echoing shriek, their weapons fired in concert, causing the attacker to stagger as it turned to cover its eye. Penumbra knew she had found its weakness. "Rockets," she yelled, "I need rockets!" Five Fusiliers, rocket launchers ready and waiting, appeared behind her within a second. "When it turns around," she ordered, "aim for its eye." The Fusiliers nodded, switching their launchers with a click to manual targeting mode. Penumbra charged the attacker, the machine gun line ceasing fire to avoid hitting her. She swung out at the cylinder in its torso with her sword, warping the transparent material slightly. The attacker spun one hundred and eighty degrees in an instant, blaring out another bellow of static, swords all ready to cut Penumbra into quarters. Five explosions prevented that future, the attacker's eye - and head - detonating in a shower of shards. The blue cylinder flashed, then fell grey, and the attacker's lifeless husk collapsed to the ground, smoking. A squad rushed it, firing their rifles and machine gun into its upper torso, melting its inner circuitry in a shower of sparks. A pair of engineers approached, making certain it was truly dead. They gave a thumbs up, the Fusiliers relaxing slightly and moving forwards again. Whilst her remaining troops attended the dead and scouted out the room, Penumbra inspected the husk of the attacker. A handful more engineers had joined the previous two, now poking at and slicing up its hull and insides. "Do we know what it is?" She asked. One of the engineers nodded. "Think so. Apparently it's a 'Mobile Enforcement Droid', built of some pretty fancy stuff too, considering inside it's as simple as it gets." "Simple?" Penumbra took a look inside, seeing only a rapidly cooling semi-molten heap of metal and rubber. "Yeah." The engineer held a length of blue rubber insulated cable in their hand. "Electronics are old school, I'm talking build at home style kit. You could fetch all of the electronic parts for a couple of Centium in the Empire. Though, whoever built this obviously wasn't Empire. This is all long before our time." "How did it move around?" She asked, whilst examining where the translucent material had warped when her blade hit it, having left perfect right angles in the pit. "Some sort of repulse lift," they said, "again, pretty old school tech. We use similar stuff for ground transport of Rapture fighters, though way smaller and a hell of a lot more powerful." Penumbra tapped her talons on the ground. "I detected a large energy signature before we came down here, hung in mid-air by the looks of it, it flashed off after a few seconds, could this have been it?" The engineer laughed. "Wouldn't bet on it. This thing's battery was almost dead and used up about as much power as my gun. Been active for who knows how long, too, definitely hasn't shut off any time recently." "Keep an eye out for any more of these things, I'll secure the artefact." The engineer nodded, rising from their crouch to join the patrols now filling the storage room. Penumbra marched straight for the artefact, or where she believed the artefact was, located at the back end of the room, presumably within the storage crate that was no less than twice as large as any of its fellows. A squad had reached it, recognising whatever was within was important, and had surrounded it, lights trained all around it and guns covering any possible angles of attack. There was a plaque on the black metal plinth holding up the crate, reading something in a runic language Penumbra couldn't understand, presumably a description or name of the artefact within. With her magic, she pulled up the casing, which gave way surprisingly easily, revealing the object of their mission. It was made up of three shapes, the centre a brass coloured diamond, the other two being white coloured semi-translucent rectangles attached into its central spine. It emitted some sort of faint white noise, which only intensified the closer Penumbra got, before it rendered everything else inaudible as Penumbra touched it. "He has ordered them to be brought here. Under the guise of a population transfer, he says here they shall be exterminated." Two figures, visible only through vague silhouettes, spoke, both female in voice, with muscular shadows and, apparently, full armour and weaponry: similar but noticeably different to any Penumbra had seen before. "Why are they being transferred to begin with? Why not exterminate them where they were?" "Their species can still be useful, he has said, but these members are not. Besides, their homeworld's all but gone now." "Seems odd to bring them all of this way, why not just take them to a prison planet? Or, vent them into space?" One of the shadows shrugged, "I don't understand his motives either. But, then again, does anyone? Far as I'm concerned, pay's good, so, I don't really care." Another shadow, shorter and more lithe, appeared, "what are you two doing? We need to prepare for his arrival and you're slacking off? Get back to work." "Yes, Adjudicant-General." The shadows vanished, being replaced by the artefact. "A glimpse," a voice, deep and ethereal, echoed all around her, "of a future, or past." "What was it?" Penumbra asked, hoping the voice could hear her, "what were they talking about?" "Creatures," it said, "that you will know, or have known." The whole world seemed to slowly spin. "Who?" Penumbra had a sinking feeling she knew. "Someone you will meet, or have met." The world was spinning. "Who?" She asked again, with more force. "Do you feel it? Feel it spinning, spinning?" "Praetor," a medic said, shaking her shoulders gently, "Praetor." They turned to another Fusilier. "Make sure the exit's ready." The soldier nodded and ran, leaving three medics directly around the collapsed Penumbra, with a few dozen Fusiliers guarding. "Hold up, she's coming around." "Is she healthy?" Major Felix asked, frantically, looking about the roof every couple of seconds, "we need to move, now." A deep rumble punctuated his sentence, emanating from above. "Steady, Major," the medic said, "we can't risk damaging her." Penumbra blinked hard twice, clearing her vision and focusing on the medic crouched over her. "What's the matter?" She asked, slowly pulling herself up, artefact firmly in her talons. "Something happened when we knocked off both gun platforms, now the whole place is coming down." Felix was ready to run, waiting only on Penumbra and the artefact. "Do we have evac?" She grasped the artefact in a wreath of magic, holding it just in front of her where she could make sure it was safe, and preparing to run. "Yep, but not for long." "Then let's get moving." Penumbra and the sixty or so remaining Fusiliers ran towards the elevator shaft, where cables for each soldier hung. At their bottom was a small clip, which attached firmly to another clip inside a case on each Fusilier's belt, shooting them up towards the upper floor the moment they were connected. Penumbra's cable took the form of a ring, which she grasped with both her front feet, flinging her upwards with such momentum she was only safe with use of her wings. An engineer sat at the top signed an apology, before pulling up another Fusilier and running for the exit, which had been made a large hole by some form of cannon fire - evidenced by the multitude of scorch marks and pile of debris. Dropships hung inches above the ground outside, Fusiliers leaping aboard before they sped off the instant they filled their capacity. A significant space had been saved for Penumbra aboard one, with only two Fusiliers in red armour - not the winterised pattern of the rest of the units - aboard to assist. Penumbra managed the hop without difficulty, with Felix being yanked aboard by the two special forces marines as the dropship launched skywards, its ramp closing as the gun platform emitted a baleful green glow and exploded, the land beneath cracking and presumably falling, though the ramp closed before it could be seen. "Praetor," an officer aboard the Spite of Vengeance appeared in her eyepiece, "I have a message for you from Emperor Nicholas, on a secure channel." "Patch it through." The officer was replaced by Nicholas' face, with the rest of her eyepiece darkening slightly as it fully polarised, her mouth being enclosed by similar material. "Penumbra, I trust your message was completed successfully?" "Yes, I have the artefact." "Excellent." Nicholas paused. "I sense something is troubling you." "The artefact appeared to knock me unconscious. It said something to me." She did not want to elaborate further. "What did it say?" Her wish to not elaborate was instantly overridden by Nicholas' question. "It showed me a vision, it claimed of either the future or the past, with parallels to." She paused, unsure of how exactly to proceed. "To ponies, talking about extermination." Nicholas nodded. "I see. The pony survivors are either in the ships with me, or are being relocated to a planet closer to the Core, where they can begin anew. I can assure you, there is no extermination." Penumbra, though she did not know exactly why, accepted that assurance. "Did you wish anything of me?" "I did. I have received reports of a station within the Krivin System, three parsecs from your current location. You are to transfer from the Spite of Vengeance to the Glorious Song, which has just joined with your force. The Glorious Song will provide a blockade and soldiers to allow you to assault this station, located in the system's innermost ring of asteroids. Those aboard the station are a potentially grave danger to our plans if they are allowed to spread further. Crush them, leave none alive, then destroy the station." The transmission ended, Penumbra's mouth being freed and eyepieces depolarising again. A few moments later, the dropship landed, with Penumbra being greeted at the ramp by a pair of helmetless Fusiliers, both apparently female, with hair shaved short on both sides, with the top being tied back into ponytails. Their faces were covered in swirling patterns made of a dark green dye, apparently tattooed on. "Penumbra?" The one on the left, with the ginger hair, asked in an accent that was recognisable but Penumbra couldn't quite trace. At the alicorn's nod, she nodded and gestured she follow. "You're with us." Their dropship contained another four soldiers, all similarly helmetless, with near identical hairstyles - save the colour - and each with a tattooed pattern on their face, each one apparently unique. "I've worked with Andromedan Snow Corps," Penumbra said as she took a seat, "now, who are you?" One, the sergeant by her green cape, replied, "212th Valkyrie Volunteer Brigade. According to command you've been assigned to our squad. We'll be translating into a hotzone so don't expect to leave the dropship until we've boarded the station. Now, introductions. This is Óglach Erin." One with blonde hair and green eyes waved. "Óglach Caitlin.” One with blonde hair and blue eyes waved.  "Óglach Ellie." One with chestnut hair and green eyes saluted.  "And you've already met Óglach Cassandra." The ginger haired soldier from earlier gave a two fingered salute.  "And Óglach Felicity." Cassandra's fellow, with brown hair and brown eyes, saluted as well. "I'm Sáirsint Harriet. Stick with us and you'll do just fine."