In this vast and cold world,
So many dig their own graves,
but only the fools jump in them.

One. The first needle was sent, seeking the target through the depths of space like an enchanted arrow seeking a flying sparrow. Slow and methodical, the Stormwarden seemed to drift above the frenzy of fighters and ships with Cy at the helm. In flight it was a beauty to behold, gliding effortlessly in any direction as if pulled on invisible strings. Without a visible propulsion system, it would seem to defy mechanics, although what direct its movements were electromagnetic fields generated by its onboard core and extended through its arching rays. It made itself push and pull itself through the vacuum of space by manipulating the attractive and repulsive forces around it radiated by everything. Making it far less predictable in movements, and far more fluid than anything which replied on propulsion systems. The design of the ship was definitely Valis in nature, using an extension of how the species naturally moved around outside of their vessels, and thus nearly impossible for other species to copy the technology and theory behind it. After all, while humans may have stolen the secrets of flight from the birds, it took then many centuries to get acquire something so simple.

Two, three, four. The next three hit their marks, clipping on to the wings of the pirate fighters. While the needles themselves did nothing to damage the fighters nor their flight capabilities, the shower of penetrating needles would be only the beginning as Cy watched the dogfight linger on. The others seem to be busy on the ground, but there were still a few dozen fighters out there, flying about it would be far better to destroy them all before the capital ship was destroyed. However, these were after all pirates, and thus there was a good chance that they would rather not destroy the Babylon and commandeer it into their fleet or sell it for parts. Although there was also a small chance of them decided to destroy both ships and blame the damage as collateral in the current political plights. Alternatively, given the state of affairs on Teta below, the pirates could be in leagues with the XRF, to raid the supply line. Either way, five, six, seven...


... Twenty five, twenty six, twenty seven, Out there on the fringe, hovering like a cloud, planting seeds for the gathering storm. The anchors on the Babylon would be next, however it would be far easier to take care of that in a more personal method. The best weapon after all is the enemy itself, like a parasite Cy would be able to hijack their ship, turning it against them, detaching their thin threads and burrowing them into their own ships. But for now, Cy was content on taking out their auxiliaries before committing himself to the mothership. Those who enter the eye of the storm, must prepare for losses. Thirty.

Now was the time to harvest. The tips of the Stormwarden crackled with energy at last, coils of electricity dancing across the length of the ship as it pulsed with a light-blue light. With a single flash of brilliance, the hammer was thrown and all the energy built up dispersed. Thirty bolts of space-lightning shot out from the Stormwarden, attracted to the needles which had silently began to siphon charge from the ships they latched on to. As life came to the Valis in a flash, so too would their deaths, in a burst of light. The same will be of those ships below the cloud, who were struck down by Zeus above as the wrath on high. Thirty pirate ships, stalled in space, all their systems downed. And yet they still began to move, closer together, towards each other, attracted to the supercharged needles which called out to their brothers. It would not be a good death, as the pirate inside found themselves subject to whims of the puppeteer as they drifted to the centre of the battlefield ignoring debris and other ships. Their life-support systems were disabled, and their weapons targeting out of luck. Communications nonfunctional, and emergency escape out of the question. It was only a matter of time, those who held on to their breaths long enough to face the judgment of the warden would see the light of death.

All targets assembled together, a pile of ships. Locked together in a feeding electromagnetic field, gathering the mass of metal prisons into a single target. It was time to terminate them as the second of the two charges shot out and fried them all to a crisp. Only fifty or so more to go. Recall the energized needles, drain them back into the core, and begin the next harvest. Repeat until all fighters were destroyed. The massive amounts of energy used would total a 15% loss, however energy return from targets was estimated to be about 0.5% returned. so all in all, an equal trade off. Not accounting for the lives lost, that is.