[color=c4df9b][b]Samantha Brisinggart[/b][/color]

The bottle crashed against the logo on the reconstructed machine, spraying alcohol everywhere. Sam wiped her mouth, a determined look on her face. 

Now or never.

Those words echoed through her mind as she pulled her clothes together, zipping up her jumpsuit. The princesses had landed, and now the Swansong can finally fly. The old warbird shall fly again, after years of being derelict, to its final last brilliant spark. 

It was easy enough to get it outside; no one cared what junkers do with their small shitty scrap ships after all. An easy matter for her to get out of her colony, and with it, her plane. Anchoring her ship in place outside the colony, she started up the Swansong, the engines rumbling, making the entire frame vibrate. There was no inertial dampener on the cockpit of course, old Earth tech didn't seem to be that advanced, or the long dead pilot of this plane had no use of it.

Inhaling, she pressed on the flight stick, and pushed a freshly installed radial lever on her side slowly along its axis, careful not to gun the engine too quickly. The Swansong responded in kind, moving forwards faster and faster. Sliding her fingers along the top of the flight stick, the verniers fired off one by one. Everything, even the old on board OS, was working. There was a slight flagging of the right side verniers, presumably because she choked the output somehow, the controls were stiff, but it was working, and she was flying it. 

Faster, and faster, she pushed the vessel, until it hurted, and keeping her eyes focused took almost all her will to do. It was not just a reckless move however, it took her much much quicker to her destination, with Annona first being visible, then growing larger and larger in her view. Two shapes seemed to grow larger, before she passed them, like a howling comet, the first losing a hand and part of its torso from the sword that flashed out from the Swansong. 

Tch, a miss, but no time to turn around, she needed to crash into the ceremony first, before they initiate lockdown. There was no way she was going to get through a colony blast doors with the Swansong after all. Sam had managed to speed past the outer perimeter before they were able to react in time, but there was still the entire armies worth of people parked at the docks. She didn't even need any zooming softwares or the likes; the large ships milling about in one side of the colony was proof enough.

[color=fff79a][b]Freya Schwartzschild[hr][/b][/color]

As per their family's honors, she stood near the procession, far enough apart to not be lumped in with the parade, but close enough to be involved. They were here to guard the Royal family after all. Percival's Axe was saluting as well, though the person inside should be busy scanning for threats.

Freya sighed internally as the event commenced. Were it not for the fact this was her duty as well, she would've only put in a token gesture of her presence, before assigning her underlings to guard the princesses whilst she visited the local law enforcement to scan for corruption. 

[color=fdc68a][i]"...r, Tristan here, perimeter breach. Th...s an unknown drone flying towards the co...ny. Perimeter says they couldn't get a g... look at it, but it seems to be an unmanned plane with how fast it was. Just the one."[/i][/color]

Her commlink flared to life in her ears, accentuated by static crackling. [color=fff79a]"Understood, Tristran. Shoot them down before they disrupt the ceremony. Get Lancelot to accompany you."[/color]

How foolish, it was, to send just one drone after this ceremony. It was unfathomable for anyone to just send one drone to fight. Unless it wasn't a drone, but some sort of bomb or super weapon. No matter how she spun it, she just couldn't believe that it would just be one solo drone. No one was that stupid, not even the pirates she hunted. Something was very wrong here.

[color=fff79a]"Percival. On guard. We might have trouble."[/color]