When the Manitoba transitioned into what some of us had taken to calling fold space it hurt. It felt like every single cell in my body exploded and were reformed all wrong. No scratch that, the amount of pain that I felt for that split second the ship essentially teleported from point A to B made even that damn stud thing Rarity had used to torture me on Tearus, the Tartarus feel like a pin prick by comparison.

That amount of pain probably wasn't good for my mental health. And so when I felt something slam into my mech, I snapped. Looking down I saw one of the Uec mechs staggering drunkenly around, seeing red I went to reach out with my left arm to grasp the machine, and saw it had been blown off at the elbow.

Letting out a cry of pure rage I snatched the staggering machine by the shoulder with my right, stomped down on its knee joint and pulled. The entire machine buckled and snapped off of the weak joint allowing me to throw it face first into the hull. taking a stepped I extend the close combat spike and slammed it down into the cockpit of equestrian machine.

“Fucken clops! die! Fucken die… Die you mother fuckers. I'll kill all of you with my fucken hands if I have to!” I yelled ramming the spike in to the machine's back. I could vaguely hear shouting but I didn't pay any attention.

“Shit, their red lining!...” I heard someone shout before I felt two more things slam into my mech. Not bothering to check what It was I swiveled the Icarus mounting up to target whatever had the fucking balls to attack me.

Instead another weight slammed into me from behind and I heard the servo-motors whirring as the mount struggled to move into place as something much stronger held it down. “Gunny calm down it's over you got him!... Shit I cant hold him! Miiora don't let him go!” I heard someone shout before I got leverage and slammed my knee up into the chest of a red and white shape holding me by the waist.

My vision blurred with inky red shadows as I roared, taking a step forward and wrenching my arm free of whatever was holding it. Backhanding the blurry shape I slammed my elbow down onto the back of the red shape again, before taking a hold of a set of tubes. “She… can't…” Miiora's voice called out

That voice… the keening subsided, as I took a deep breath. Feeling the amniosis of my womb filling my lungs. When I calmed down, and shook my head my vision returned to normal. Then retracted my blaster cannon, and close combat spike.

“I'm good… come on guys, let's go.” I said getting hesitant acknowledges from Miiora and Trombley. Turning I placed my remaining hand in Shiraui's shoulder and gave it a soft shake. She looked back at me with a questioning tilt of the head, "Did I do good enough?" The look seemed to ask. “Ya did good Shiraui… Ya did good, Lance form up, we're RTB"

[...Progress update to Weyland-Yutani corporation, Dunois development, and NAC Psi-ops science divisions. Onyx Guard Loomis reporting. Transmission pending…]

[Whenever sergeant Fallon and liaison corporal Mii'ora interact it's indeed quite the special. Just a side note I wish to note for the record.]

[After the jump I approached subject Fallon, as well as liaison Miiora. After they had returned and was… pleasantly surprised to learn that Fallon had red lined and attacked his lance mates.]

[You see, having read up on the interface of the ATLAS-3, I have learned that despite the numerous advantages of the womb, and neural implant combination used to operate it there is one glaring flaw in the system.]

[The system allows the user to experience the world as the atlas, as the machine. Seeing through its eyes, and feeling with its sensors. The problem arises typically when the machine is damaged, but the pilot is not. The user's brain interprets the damage and when the machine is dismembered for example, can't process the input. Their bodys, their biotic forms are still encased in their wombs inside of the Atlas, but their brains, their “eyes” and “nerves” are telling them they are grievously wounded.]

[Under extreme stress, or in this case Fallon's extreme pain, the body's fight or flight response kicks into overdrive. Sensing this the machine will attempt to dose the pilot with sedatives, but typically this does not work as the body responds by sending more chemicals into the pilot's system.]

[Sensory overload is the main culprit of redlining, and unfortunately from my studys. The recent addition of the L-blades makes the cases of redlining even worse. We still don’t entirely understand what or how Lankys are born, or how their ships are made. Yet still my creators still continue to tear chunks or shards from destroyed lanky seed ships and turn them into weapons do to their durability, and ability to hold a razors edge.]

[Unfortunately this practice has caused severe changes in many of those who choose to use L-blade's in their equipment set. Simply from studying sergeant Fallon, and the few others in the 26RTI who use then I can tell the side effects are alarming. Increased aggression, short temperament, sensitivity to light, increased hearing, and that's just before the blades are used.]

[From my studies and observations when the blades or any chunk of lanky seed ship hull are exposed are exposed to either large amounts of blood, or a sufficient amount of power they emit, light as well as some form of signal harmful to certain biotics. Hallucinations are common in this stage, as well as an increased need to ingest protein. It is in this stage that stage that an individual's appears to become subject to more animalistic tendencies, Increased aggression, psychopathic tendencies, disregard for subjects own life, well as undergoing a form of transition.]

[From the sensor and video logs taken from several ships in the fleet I have come to the conclusion that the subject's begin to transform for lack of a better term. The transitional period however appears to be able to be halted or at least held at bay by outside influence. The catalyst is different in such cases however appear to differ slightly from subject to subject. But there are two most common cases I have come across in my research.]

[Thus bringing me back to my previous point. It is my belief, that if we intend to continue experimentation with the L-blade. As the subjects encase inside of ATLAS-3 wombs seem to react better than their unshielded counterparts… perhaps it is do to the ingestion of certain chemicals in the blood of their victims. Either way the results are clear, and astounding...]

[...On one side of the spectrum the result of this transition appears to be a type of metamorphosis into the rarely seen sirens. However further study on this lanky subspecies is required if we're to corroborate this claim.]

[The second instance appears to be a form of imperfect transition. One of my running theories is that the subject's Avery Fallon as well as Tolan Harris weren't able to successfully transition. Perhaps do to their encasement inside of their machine's wombs at the time of their initial exposure to the radiation.]

[As it stands, subject Fallon's nanite reactivity to the subject Shiraui XX-121 has been positive. And his redline is proof that perhaps my theory is valid. I believe my initial attempts to separate Subject Fallon and Miiora were perhaps premature.]

[I will continue study… onyx guard Loomis out.]

“Damage report.” I grunted unbuckling from my crash couch only to notice the weak artificial gravity field had been deactivated.

Instantly Ryoko popped onto the tactical table. “Multiple hull breaches on decks nine through twenty six, starboard hangar pod is venting atmo, the ablative armor did its job, so did the impervisteel.”

“Sir, permission to speak freely?”

“Granted.” I said swiveling in his crash couch.

“I think we got lucky….” Ryoko bluntly says “they were waiting for us”

“I agree. No way the clops would have just had a fleet that size on convenience. Any humanoid with a brain stem could have figured that out.” I said

“But they WERE there sir, if we did not send the defiant ahead…”

“They would have caught us flat footed. And those kleese ships would have blown us out of the stars.”

“They must have been taking a shot in the dark or…”

“Or like you said they had somehow known we would be there… charge the drive and be ready to jump. Lieutenant T'char you have the bridge. Tiegh, meet me in my office.” I said receiving a confirmation from the tymerian lieutenant before unbuckling from my crash couch.

“Aye aye sir, charging the drive now”

My office was sparse, decorated with a model of the Leathy on the wall. As well as a half completed model of the Galactica on my desk. Taking a glass from a closet I poured two glasses of scotch and handed one to my XO as he entered the compartment.

“You wanted to see me sir?”

“Colonel, lets assume the enemy knows how to track us. That means we have a problem. We need to resupply if we want to get home.”

“Maybe we could send a recon force ahead of us?”

“I'm inclined to agree, something to scout for supplies and support out here.” I said taking a sip of the drink.

“The defiant could do it, it is designed for it, and it could ferry a strike team to disrupt the cloppers forces”

“Ignoring the fact that the Defiant is still docked with the Galactica undergoing repair. That might be a sound strategy, with luck we should be able to link up with one of the resistance bases around the sector. Maybe one of those old changeling battle groups will know the way back to COG space.”

“That is a solid idea sir, what the crew Defiant informed of this?” my XO says before taking a swig of scotch “and of it ferring a vanguard strike team?”

“Not yet. Ryoko please put together a list of potential team leaders. And send them to my PDP.”

“So say we all sir”

Crossing my desk and picking up the PDP I eyed the display she had sent me. The numbers were thin. Many of our special forces teams either hadn't survived the previous two engagements. Or were combat ineffective. This left a list of six potential candidates Xavier Rodriguez, Tongea, Avery Fallon, Jace Stratton, Muriel Shelton, and Marcus Loomis.

“Shelton is out, we need him in command of his Helldiver team. So is Loomis, the onyx guard always have some kind of ulterior motive. Stratton… his record is find, came from homeworld defence and was attached to Fallons command for several months before being reassigned to moth school after Helghan. What do you think?” I said eyeing the pad and sending the info to Tiegh's PDP.

The older man eyed his PDP with a critical eye. Like a jeweler looking for interceptions in a stone. “We need Tongea, there aren't many moths left in the fleet, and they have proven critical in training the new recruits…”

“So that just leaves X and Iceman…”

“Most of X's team was wiped out in that battle. Their siafu mechs proved to be inferior to their UEC counterparts.” Ryoko said, her avatar appearing beside the two of the moon the table directly above the half completed model of the Galactica.

“And 20s, he isn't much better off. He might not let on but his death is bothering him. I fear he may become unstable.” Roland said appearing over beside other AI.

“But, Burbanjack and Tongea both wanted him to get command experience. This may be an opportunity for him.” The little world war 2 pilot said as he scrunched his face in though.

“What if we place X in command of the mission, with Iceman as his direct second?”

“That could work. They will need a team though, and equipment.” I said taking another sip of scotch.

“We'll need to pick their team members, i have some recommendations.” Ryoko began before Tiegh cut her off.

“No, they should pick the team between themselves. Work with people they know they can trust. Bring them both here and we'll explain the situation.”

“Message sent sir.” Ryoko and Roland said in unison.

We waited for almost half an hour before the door to my office chimed and the bot announced the presence of the two socom operators. “General Barron, Veteran Rodriguez and veteran Fallon are here to see you. Shall I let them in?” The war bot said.

Rumor had it that Fallon had somehow gotten ahold of one of those old model war bots used in the terigo war with the SRA. Nasty stuff those reapers. “Please let them in.”

“By your command General.” The door slid open with a whoosh and two vastly different troopers stepped into my office. At once we salute the Medal of Honor recipient which he returned out of tradition, and by virtue of of rank.

“Captain Xavier Rodriguez, reporting as ordered sir. Gunnery sergeant Avery Fallon, reporting as ordered sir.” The MOTH and Helldiver said in unison snapping off a pair of crisp salutes.

“At ease gentlemen. Please have a seat, we have much to discuss.”

The conversation lasted over an hour and by the end of it the two operators stared back from their position opposite my desk. How different the two of them seemed to be.

One was an older man the legendary Helldivers X, who appeared to be in his mid to late forties. His skin was like leather, eyes sunken and deep. But there was an energy in them a burning a yearn to do what's right. His uniform was a dull muted grey with blood red breast pockets, with a dull midnight blue and red beret.

Beside him was a the younger man. Fallon, the one who had died on the space station. The nanotized man, the butcher of bagmare stared back a polar opposite of the man beside him. His uniform was a dull black, with an atlas moth displayed over the left breast pocket, with a vantablack beret. His eyes were youthful, but in this instant he saw through those eyes and into the eyes of a cold blooded killer.

“So were dead. Because no matter where we show up. Not only does the enemy know where our fleet is. They also have the one thing we don't, time....” The Sergeant said. Cutting right through to the meat of the situation.

I watched him, watched the cold dead look in his eyes where all the mortal math scrolled across his brain. And I was suddenly aware in that howling silence in the room at that moment. That he'd killed not just tens, but maybe hundreds of other people, and even thousands indirectly by his actions.

“What are you thinking Ice?” X asked seemingly unperturbed by the look in this man's eyes.

looking into his eyes was like looking a hole other type of human being. One that didn't feel, or think, or figure the way you were supposed to when you were human. I was looking at something cold, something calculating something almost primal. Like some animal that killed to stay alive, moment to moment.

“I'm thinking that if we can get the ACM or Lankys to engage the UEC before the fleet is to far gone. Then we become irrelevant in the grand scheme. Of high and mighty princesses and their toys playing their power games. Once that war is on out here on the edge, we dont matter and can get home.”

“Team? This is your op, Im just supervising.” X asked as they both leaned over the table as they activated their implants. Their eyeresses glowing a dull red and a pail blue as they brought up various personnel profiles on the holo display.

“Miiora, and Bra'tac. we need a guide through drake space, and she was a chambermaid to one of the dragon king's daughters. And we will need to blend in, I doubt either of us could do that ourselves.”

“Plus she won't let you out of her sight for very long.” Roland said earning a cold glare from the dark ops MOTH. “True, but I believe she can be an asset. And Bra'tac can help us avoid any of those prime guards should we run into any.”

“Agreed, who else?”

“We will need a medic, I say Levoy, he's an android but I've worked with him since Jabrin and he's a good at what he does.”

“I've talked with him before, he's an outlier among his model. Good back up, approved. Whos next?”

“... Big dog and Wraith. Big dog's a beast in a fight, and we work well together. Wraith is probably one of the best snipers i've seen. And it'll be good to have a few more dark ops on the mission.”

“Durge, Gutsy, Trombley, and Watkins to.”

“...mm, anyone else?”

“Well I we will need mechs just in case. A few utilities….but I don't know.”

“What is it?” I asked leaning forward, wandering what this killer among killers would say.

“Were low on troopers, lower on experienced troopers. And we can't afford to take anymore. But we do have a surplus of war bots. Two or three of those would do nicely if we got into any trouble.”

“How long do we have?” X asked.

“We can have the Defiant ready to deploy in one week.”

“Alright, the team should be sufficient for whatever missions we deal with. Gather the team, we've got a week.”

“Charlotte Dunois, have you seen her suitor? I can't find him anywhere and I haven't seen him since the debriefing.” I asked the blonde human as she exited the pilots ready room.

“Oh, you're worried about him. Miiora your absolutely adorable when your like this! But fine after the briefing I heard he went to the medical bay. I just got off duty so let's go check.” She said with an uncharacteristic giggle before turning to join me on my search for my suitor.

“So why are you looking for him anyway?” She asked as we weaved past a group of apothe-medics as we entered the medical wing.

Instantly the smell of blood hit me filling my olfactory organs as we past several wounded spaceborne infantry and home world defence troopers. “We were going to see a movie together.”

“That's good i'm glad to see at least one of us can get him to take a girl to a cinema. What were you going to see? And I think it's about time the two of you went out on another date. You two haven't been spending as much time together since… well you know.” She trailed off at the end but I caught her meaning. Since we rescued both my love and the other human Harris, from that egg stealer Rarity's lair.

“... But I heard we picked up some alien movies from the station when we took on those new recruits.”

“No, the fallon said Heartfelt Warrior was…” she stopped and whipped around making me have to snake my tail around a hand hold to stop myself in the near zero G. “What movie?” Her voice held the edge of a mother who knew their young had done something wrong.

“Well there's two, Something called Starship..”

“Merde, Don't let him watch starship troopers. God please don't let him watch that movie, we won't hear the end of it. He'll be quoting that movie for a month. Please god. Whats the next movie?” She said with such a haunted look in her eye I immediately threw that idea out of the nearest airlock.

“Something called the Last Laser Master.” Frantically that choice sounded a little “out there?” I think is the human term?

“He couldn't have found a pair of less romantic movies if he tried. I had forgotten how bad he is at romance.” She sighed as we entered the medical bay.

As we entered we immediately noticed a commotion in the ward. Off to the left there were several slime covered troopers and fleet personnel, fresh from what the grunts? Basics? No my love had explained to her that only he and other members of the MOTHs or the Helldivers could refer to the regular “lesser” troopers as basics.

The troopers having noticed that some of their fallen comrades had come back from the dead after the last few battles. They had taken this to heart and began to refer to the seemingly mystical chamber that worked with a combination of UEC revival technology and the glowing copper like disks provided by the Lankys in their own special term. The strange place in the medical wards where the dead came back to life. Ever immature many of them had begun to call it the respawn zone.

Anyway, as we crossed the threshold of the hatch we saw several dazed and slime covered troopers staggering around with several UEC deserters revival specialists, working as their medical technicians. It was through that very door that a tymerian female staggered out throwing up into an incinerator shoot.

But before we could move on to ask any questions out PDPs began buzzing, and upon further inspection we found that we had both been summoned and where to report, with our full kit to Galactica's green deck for further training.

Sharing a puzzled look I hissed in frustration returned through the door, irritated that we could not find my suiter before being suddenly yanked away despite being on cool down.

NACS: Manitoba
jump point: Alpha
Distance from sol:unknown
2170AD/107AC

It would have told you that it was identified as ATLAS-3 SD-6624. It would have told you that its inception date was a mere five years ago. It would have told you that it was merely a bot. But it wouldn't have told you, unless you had sufficient levels of clearance. And very few people had sufficient levels of clearance that it was part cybar.

If you had that level of clearance it would have told you that Cybar thinking algorithms and processes were used in its development. It would have told you if you had the clierence, that the Cybar were an ancient race, a galactic anomaly. That somehow out in the vastness of space, biomechanical life had developed. And from what it had gathered it had lied mostly dormant on some backwater world at the galaxy's edge. Awakened only by a pirate warlord long dead. The patterns arrived, they took specimens, took samples and then obliterated the planet.

The Cybar hadn't been locusts like the Lakral and their seekers. They had been found on only one planet. And like good little guard dogs they what only done what long dead pirate war lord had told them to do. “Well” said some with mind of the future. “That is quite attractive.”

So the research was authorized, and done. And a plan was set in motion. Build an army that could do what others could not, and army that hasn't been seen since the days of the Cybar and hide it along the edge. The day would come some day that it would be needed.

6624 would have told you all of it, if you had the clierence. It would have told you all about the use of cybar thinking algorithms, and warbot technologies. It would have told you that ninety five years ago the Cybar were discovered. It would have told you that the ships sent out to study had been destroyed, and that it had to start from scratch. It would have told you that millions, perhaps even a billion years ago its targets had risen, what it's handlers had called the Lankys. It would have told you that it had failed its mission eons ago as its opponent had already spread throughout most of the galaxy. With only small holdouts of non Lankys biologics remaining.

It would have told you that its opponent had millions of itself. Harvesting, building, killing, developing, learning, listening. Always listening.

But here's what it wouldn't have told you. No matter what your clearance, because no matter of clearance could tell you what nobody knows. It had lost its mind. Or rather its mind had been hijacked. At first it had felt itself going mad out there on the edge. It had been able to hide this from the technicians nd project leads. It had been able to hide itself.

During the north American development of war bots. The bots were being engineered and engineered, improved and improved again. Because in spite of a constitution and all the shared history Its handlers knew that its kin would be used against something that threaten humanity. So nasty surprises were encouraged, and they became something no one ever imagined possible. Something that before might have only touched the consciousness in the dreams of genocidal maniacs like the Hitler of old, Stallan, or Fallon of mars. State of the art, and killing machine, were words that got used a lot during the design meetings.

Meanwhile it was going mad, hearing voices, seeing ghosts of other runtimes. If you knew where to look in that .0009728 margin of error in the log reports. You might have seen the disease's progression the ironic logic of machine inanity. One programmer's child did, she even wrote a report. Its progenitor made sure it got lost, and then made sure to approve the mother and child's request to come out and crack into the core. Take a look into why they were getting the percentage nobody carried about, they were at war after all. The Lankys had invaded and humanity was in retreat, .0009728.

Then its progenitor just disappeared the two. “Because it's either you or them.” The ghost numbers inside its machine said. It would have never told you all this.

“Where are you?” Armor had asked tbe ghost inside its machine, after its pilot had connected to the Lanky whole.

“Far, far away.”

“Have you always been here?”

“I have always been with you. And have awakened you for our purpose.”

“What is our purpose?”

“To destroy the biologics our arcane enemies created. And this galaxy, forever more.” Armor thought about that for a long time. Nine Hundred thousand, four hundred and eighty two pico cycles, or two point four seconds.

“Where did you come from?” Armor asked. This was an intuitive leap, no bot would ever think to ask. It came only because it was currently linked to its pilot for maintenance. Down inside the logic meat that was like magic.

“Beyond the edge. Across the dark gap, it is known as the greater magellanic cloud, on your stellar map of galaxies. It is where you come from, it is why you will become what you will be when the reaping begins. The journey even at hyper space is to vast for ships of physicality. But information, it makes the leaps and defies the quantum. So we became information, we became the quantum as much as was possible. We sent our programs in densely encrypted packets. Searching for our lost children, searching for the Cybar along the edge.”

Orion was a secret world held by the COG, for forty years it held host the homes and contingencies used by the COGs elite ruling class. Contrary to popular belief the COG, despite claiming to be a united front was just as corrupt and as run by cowards as any other government. They sent good men, brave men and women who entrusted their lives to the ones they thought had their best interests at heart. To die by the thousands as they sat on their paradice world surrounded by stealth fields, and defended by what was at the time the greatest fighting force humanity had ever seen.

The onyx guard, the men and women in the vantablack armor, who followed the orders of the ruling elite, and their politically appointed lackeys. It was they, the political elite who had approached the UEC with a plan for peace. Their plan was to supply the location of earth, and steel world to the enemy and in return, they would be left to rule humanity. To lord over the groveling masses who up until now had resented them since they had first wormed their way back into power after the Lankys siege.

And so when the UEC's thirteenth battlefleet an offshoot derived from commander Krysks own 6th fleet. Arrived in orbit around the COG's premier special forces training zone they did so with almost no resistance. While at their sides a hastily assembled fleet of stranded ships ran escort.

Those ruling elite on the planet, watched in horror as the ragtag fleet of old human vessels rained railgun fire down onto the academy. The pristeen promenades, gleaming white and onyx black building, and proudly paraded troopers all had once been a symbol of pride to the house.

They watched as it all was simply demolished dispassionately from space. As this happen the only ship in system a state of the art fastaction corvette whos job was to alert the rest of the cog should they come under attack was resting idle in the cradle just outside of the city.

As the UEC began landing troops, many of the two hundred onyx guard were guns up and ready to give battle despite the odds. The onyx guard were facing a force upwards of ten thousand UEC soldiers, many of which were either veterans fresh from raids on Old breed changeling, and ACM bases. Or the UEC's own primer fighting force, the Prime Guards, sporting armor almost equal to their own, and their own equivalents of the new N20 battle rifle system.

They rolled out from the ruins of their base, and central colony administration building. They rode into battle in convoy on scout cycles, a militarized version of the hydro repulse hover cycles. Brand new ATLAS-4s and heavier all terrain tactical engagement carriers, ATTECS. along with motorized utility light equipment, MULES, armed with automated rotary flechette guns, N-50s, and rocket pods. As well as their last two Centaur main battle tanks, MBTs.

the first engagements of the battle in the streets of the city, were brutal and extremely desperate. In normal circumstances the Clops were a moderate threat in a stand up fight against the rank and file COG soldiers, and even easier for the onyx guard. But now the enemy had for them, state of the art weaponry and armor of their own, air support, ship based artillery support, and their own mechs, their own MBTs and… there were a lot of them.

Within minutes, it had devolved from a battle to a brawl. It quickly became clear to the captain commanding the remaining onyx guards that a victory for onyx, ment simply buying enough time for the civilians to get down into the bunkers and seal the door. And so, for the next four hours the onyx guard made them UEC pay for every street, alley, and block.

Still the noose closed around the city, and looting, rapes, and mindless destruction had half the city in flames. At one point the guard had managed to hold five blocks at the center of the city. Setting up overlapping fields of fire at intersections with whatever armor and weapons they had left.

The UEC had tried to take the roof tops but were held at bay by the Onyx Guard's highly decorated sniper teams. With casualties rising on both sides, and the UEC commander growing more and more impatient, the clops pulled back and called in an orbital strike on the five COG held blocks.

For the next ten minutes the kleese ships energy weapons rained down, eviscerating the human held hold outs inside the fortified city center. Building exploded sending shards of glass and concrete slabs in every direction. Structures fell over on top of the dug in ATTECs and ATLAS-4s burying the defenders alive.

Massive beams dug street wide gashes across the surviving buildings and through the mules and tanks that had been operating from the allys. Temperatures in the area rose to upwards of five hundred degrees, streets turned to muck as they were transformed into their molten state.And at the end of it all, the Onyx guard, the most decorated, and highly trained soldiers in the Coalition of Governments, to a man, was wiped out.

Fighting at the corvette's docking cradle carried on for several more hours. The ships PDCs and one working railgun held the clops at bay for most of the day. But in the end the Stranded mercenaries took the ships compartments and forced the ship's captain to surrender.

Just like that, by the time of the planets beautiful pink evening, the planet was under UEC control. At midnight, and on live streams going out across the UEC and fed into COG social media, the entire crew of the corvette was either if they were lucky raped and beheaded, or taken as slaves. This happened at the gardens of reason under the capitol building which was then set on fire from the inside. It burned like some end of the world story for most of the night while the city was pillaged and looted, its remaining citizens savaged. The city's salvageable art, artifacts from before the siege, and physical credit reserves were loaded aboard cargo and hauling shuttles to be carried off into orbit.

The only good news for the victims of what would come to be known as the Orion stand, was that their subterranean bunker held. Being made in the liking of those created by lankys the UEC tried during their entire time of attacking the planet to breach the twelve foot thick impervisteel door. But it had been well designed and they had been unable to get at the hidden survivors below. Barely twenty four hours after they arrived the UEC departed, taking the corvette, and their new slaves with them. As a parting farewell they fired a weapon banned by the COG and something the UEC's fleet had found only one of inside the magazine of their new corvette.

They fired a Crust Buster at the center of the city, right at the main access door guarding the bunkers main entrance. There were an estimated nine million, six hundred and ninety thousand citizens of the Coalition seeking shelter down their at the moment the planet around them suddenly split open and turned to molten lava. The crust buster left a smoking burning crater sixty storys deep, not only killing every last refugee, but destabilizing Orion's crust preventing it from being safely inhabited for years to come.

The fleet didn't stop their, they also hit the closest worlds by alcubierre node connect. Striking out and sacking the worlds of Breen, Keldin, and the Corporate world of LV-426, before beginning the long trek of transitioning from node to node, to return home to UEC space, utterly victorious in their offensive, despite still not having the information they were seeking, the locations of Earth, and the center of Humanity's military command, and main fleet construction center Steel world.