[b]Martian Orbit, Sol System[/b]
Two of the fighters were immediately obliterated, the alien weaponry vaporizing them with ease. All the weapons fire pinged off the alien ships, some of it being deflected back at the fleet. Two dreadnoughts were lost, along with countless smaller vessels. Another fighter went down, the debris bouncing off the shields harmlessly. The civilian vessels fell into disarray, many of them retreating to Earth using their short-burn antimatter jump drives. As they took no time to align with a receiving station, the crew would likely regain consciousness on the other side of the Sun. Seeing that they had no chance, Fergus gave the only order he could.

"All ships, fallback to Earth! Use the short-burn jump drives, align with a receiving station if you can, if you can't, then inform an OSA patrol vessel! We'll cover the retreat! Wings of Gliese, form up!"

The squadron fell into formation behind Fergus, the three lost ships missing. Fergus tried to flush the thought from his mind, he'd never lost a single pilot before.

"Nobody kills one of us and gets away with it. I want all weapons focused on their bridge shields, I'm going to board them. The moment those shields are down, break off and retreat. I won't survive this, but neither will their Captain."

The rest silently agreed, making a run on the bridge shields. It was a bloodbath, of the 16 that went in, only 9 made it out. However, they had just barely punctured the shields, leaving a route through the bridge's windows open. Fergus thrusted toward the ship using a burst from the short-burn drives, getting the cockpit through the shields before the hole closed. He had lost the wings, but the cockpit was all he needed. It pierced the bridge windows, staying lodged as air hissed out. The ship's emergency shields reached quickly, sealing the cracks, but he didn't need the air to be vented.

Fergus picked up the assault rifle in his cockpit, and blew off the hatch. Bridge security personnel reacted quickly, but just before they could pull the trigger, Fergus pulled his. The guards were killed in an unimaginably quick sweep. Smoke rose from his heating rifle, the coilgun took a lot of energy to accelerate the projectiles. Jumping to the tactical officer's console, he shot him int he head and took cover behind the console itself. Poking his weapon up, he fired on the gunners, killing them in another sweep. His combat skills were unheard of, with the skill of a wise old man but the agility of a young athlete. He aimed his rifle at the captain of the ship, but something made him miss her head and instead hit her right foot. Instead of finishing her off, he opened his mouth on impulse as if it was an instinct.

"I don't recognize your species, what are you doing here? Do you want resources, slaves? Or are you here for us?"

He moved out into the open, shooting anyone who dared to clench a trigger. They seemed to get the message. Shooting the captain in the leg and arm, he spoke again.

"Answer me or your captain dies! You killed ten of my people, that's ten less people who can understand my thoughts, my motivations, my feelings. Ten of my only friends. Feel lucky that I don't simply detonate my fighter's antimatter fuel cell and blow this entire ship to metal chunks!"