As the descending visage of the Infestor bore down on Garamm, her entire countenance changed. Before, it had simply been a matter of toying around with her opponents. Reavers were not known for their love of the blade, thus there was little for her to appreciate in them. All she had been doing was letting off a little steam while she awaited the end of this invasion. The best she had expected was to put something together from all the metal left behind after the invaders had perished. But now, staring down at them all was a horrid beast that threatened to release its vile spores across the entire population, seeking to change those that lived here into techno-organic abominations in their own image, no doubt...techno-organic abominations that did not appreciate the superiority of a good, bladed weapon over their plasma toys.

There could be no greater sin than to wipe out a planet full of people who, while not fully appreciative of the sword, at least possessed the capacity to create them with love and passion. All they were to the Reavers was a backup weapon in case their sordid guns couldn't do the job properly. This would not do. Garamm placed her ship on auto-pilot, charting a course to manage some basic maneuvers in the vicinity of the Cerberus Gate. The intent was to let her focus on her plan of attack while not remaining so still she would be a sitting duck. She needed her full concentration to begin her grand bombardment, after all. Reaching out with her power, one by one the Reaver gunships harassing the Gate would find themselves ensnared and flung outwards towards the Infestor, each one detonating upon impact, gradually building into a vast panoply of explosions covering the surface of the large ship. Every last gunship she could reach out to would find itself sailing through the air to assault that which they sought to protect, and especially so for any ship bold enough to fire upon Garamm herself. She would keep going until she either ran out of ships to throw or came under too intense pressure to continue. Whatever it took to destroy that eyesore, Garamm would do it. The Reavers would pay for their lack of appreciation for the blade, or Garamm would die making them bleed for it.