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Ahnasha stayed close by Fendros’ side, grinning up at Rhazii. Of course, even though she was trying to keep up the appearance of an upbeat, confident attitude, there was no avoiding the reality of where they were right now, and what they were doing. Rhazii and the other children had already been allowed to stay in the Hunting Grounds longer than most before the battle, and after they were done here, there would be no choice but for them to go back home. Once they parted ways here, they would only see each other again after the battle.

“It’s alright, you can take it, Rhazii. It’s not like he is going to need an extra sword taking up space on his belt during the battle.” Ahnasha remarked.

Although Julan had no apprehension about his parents’ beast forms themselves, seeing them fully armored as they were did make it somewhat harder for him to approach them. Given their roles in the clan, he knew that he was not supposed to bother them when they were doing “important” things. Consciously, he knew the situation was a bit different right now, but it still took seeing Rhazii with his own parents for him to finally approach them. Of course, even if he had not, they certainly would have called him over soon enough in any case. As for actually knowing what to say, however, Julan quickly ended up stumbling over his words. “I, um, that armor looks very…neat. Is it true that it’s better than steel and, um…metal?”

If Lorag was being honest with himself, this was a moment that he was more nervous about than the actual battle ahead. Rhazii and Julan were speaking with their parents, so Narsi was alone, and Lorag had no excuses he could use to fill his time at the moment. Giving the girl the training she deserved as both a lycan and an Orc, he could handle that, but “emotional” situations were far from being one of his strengths. He honestly was not sure if Narsi cared in the slightest about him, if she should care, or if he should even want her to care. Contrary what some might think about them, Orcs, even Lorag, were not entirely heartless, but he knew that he was no father to her. Not in the way he should have been. Lorag did start to obviously give her his attention, but he mostly just ended up staring in silence for a while. “So…” He finally uttered.
"There was just enough usable bone left for one weapon. I may have created it, but its name should be yours to choose. You're the hero that will be wielding it, after all." The Forgemaster replied. Ahnasha, naturally, took interest in what was happening now that she was equipped and ready. Especially with the comments she overheard from Fendros. She moved up alongside Fendros and immediately set her eyes onto the sword. Reaching out, she ran her fingers down the flat of the blade, though she found it somewhat annoying that she could not feel it directly through her gauntlet. She did not care quite enough to go through the trouble of removing it, though.

Ahnasha chuckled and nudged Fendros' side. "Figures that you would get the one thing that could make me feel jealous while having a Daedric sword on my belt." She remarked, calling attention to her new sword of, what would usually be, unrivaled quality. "I'm surprised you didn't choose to give it to the Champion herself, Forgemaster."

The Nord laughed, shifting somewhat in place. "Yeah, I, uh, did try to present it to her last week." He answered, shooting a glance over to Meesei, who was watching the whole exchange from nearby.

"As honored as I was by the gesture, a sword like that should go to someone who will use it." Meesei commented.

The Forgemaster nodded in response. "Aye. That blade does deserve to taste Daedric blood. Once the Champion turned it down, I had it enchanted to the specifications you gave me the last time we spoke Fendros."

As they were speaking, they would be able to hear some heavy footsteps approaching behind them, followed by a Bosmer woman's voice. "You can also have a mount fit for a hero." She said as she guided Leaps-On-Elves up to the group. Much like the rest of them, Leaps had received some improved equipment for the upcoming battle. The Bosmer, and a few other handlers, had spent the last hours carefully fitting his new saddle and additional armor. For such a massive creature as a wamasu, it was not made from anything so expensive as ebony, but he did now have plates of Dwarven metal situated strategically over his body to give him the most protection possible, without making him too agitated or encumbered to tolerate it. He did not particularly like having his joints restricted in their movement, so armor there was light, but most of his head and other vital areas were protected. Naturally, the saddle was also enchanted to protect the rider from the wamasu's own lightning.
Regardless of what form they were in, the members of Meesei’s pack serves as inspirations to their warriors, and their new armor only made that morale boost even stronger. Lorag, for this battle, was taking on his werewolf form, with dragonplate armor just as heavy as Meesei’s. For such powerful creatures as they were in their lycan forms, the weight itself meant almost nothing, and for Lorag, one of his enchantments enhanced his physical strength even farther. Between the plates of dragon bone and scales, and the ebony chainmail underneath, there was hardly a part of him that was unprotected. Since the blacksmiths only had two dragon skeletons to work with to begin with, his helmet was not made from the actual skull of the dragon as Meesei’s was, though it had been shaped with a similar visage. Aside from his strength enchantment, the rest of the magic bound to his armor focused on magical defense, making him more resistant to nearly every form of destructive magic. It would not confer complete immunity, but it would make him nearly as resilient against arcane threats as physical ones. Lorag did not have a blade integrated into his armor as Janius did, but each of the fingers on his gauntlets were tipped with a dragonbone spike to essentially serve as his claws, and to allow him to fight as he normally would in this form. One hand was even given shock enchantments, which were particularly effective against most Daedra.

Ahnasha, meanwhile, had kept her normal form, and much like Sabine, was equipped in light dragonscale armor. Normally, she was not one to wear armor at all, instead preferring to rely on magical protection, but the craftsmanship of this set was superb enough that she was practically excited to wear it into battle. Like Meesei, she did have enchantments to enhance her own magical capabilities, but instead of defense, the remainder of her enchantments focused on maneuverability. Not only did the feather enchantments make the armor seem pretty much weightless when worn, but they also quickened her movements and overall agility. The muffle enchantment also made her steps unnaturally silent, so stealth would still be an option for her. She had a matching bow to Fendros, and two blades crafted from Daedric metal. The longer of the two was a curved blade, like a saber, with a shock enchantment, while the other was shorter and straighter with a paralysis enchantment.

Of course, among the most impressive sights out of any of them was Kaleeth, transformed, and in her full armor. The largest portion of the dragon bones were used in her armor, as there was simply much more of her to protect. She was more massive than a daedroth, and with the dragonbone plates covering her from nose to tail, it was hard to imagine what could possibly even hurt her. She did not worry too much about agility, since she did not have much to begin with. She had worried that, more than most, her beast spirit would not be too accepting of wearing any parts that might restrict her movement, but Meesei had pulled her aside privately before they had gone to be equipped and gave her something to help in that regard. Now, she was wearing the full suit, which even provided some protection for her long, muscular tail, though that was mostly flexible dragon scales and chainmail, rather than plate armor. Her helmet was even tougher than Meesei’s, as the blacksmiths had essentially been able to use the other dragon skull as the helmet with only few modifications, so it retained nearly all of its natural strength. Only her lower jaw was not armored, as her bite strength was too important to her in battle to restrict it. Her enchantments were almost identical to Lorag’s, with one enhancing her already overwhelming physical strength, and the rest giving her more resistance to magic.

Kaj-Julan was not sure whether or not to be impressed or frightened of his mother. Not only did she tower over everyone else, but between that armor and the skull she was wearing on her head, she almost looked like a dragon. When Rhazii spoke up, though, he grinned, nudged him in the side, and pointed at Kaleeth. “No, she’s why they’re coming back.”

While the Forgemaster’s assistants were working on getting Kaleeth into her armor, the Forgemaster himself took a sword from a crate that had been separated from the rest. From afar, it was hard to tell if there was anything special about it, but the Nord clearly looked nervous holding it. The scabbard was finely made from polished wood and leather, but obscured the blade within.

Taking a deep breath, the Forgemaster approached Fendros directly. He held out the blade across both palms and bowed as he presented it to the Dunmer. “Fendros Avarul, it is my greatest honor to present my…finest creation to you. You will find no greater blade in Tamriel, or any plane of Oblivion.”

Upon drawing the sword from its scabbard, Fendros would find that it was not made from ebony, nor even Daedric metal, but dragonbone.
Vael ‘Virisusai - Aboard the Assimilator





Vael gave a nod. “I agree. We should avoid disrupting the feed. Perhaps even move some communications equipment to a dropship so we can continue it while we make use of this ship. If we do not allow our enemy to know that something has gone wrong, then they will not interfere with us. We may use the broadcast for our own ends once we have completed our task.”




Any casualties were returned to their ships as soon as possible, while the rest set to work on getting the ship ready for use. After multiple, thorough sensor sweeps from the Daedalus to ensure the rest of the ship was devoid of life, they restored life-support and gave the Assimilator a skeleton crew to make it operational as an evacuation vessel. Just as Vael had recommended, they moved enough communications equipment to a dropship to keep the broadcast going while they appropriated the Assimilator for their own use.

Within hours, the rest of the fleet had arrived, though they were far from the first. By giving his announcement of Alderaan’s impending destruction, Anubis himself had essentially given the call for aid to any who intended to help the Alderaanian people. Ships from Chandrila started arriving even before the Assimilator was completely occupied to assist in the evacuation, which had now began in earnest. Bail Organa and Queen Breha Organa led and coordinated the evacuation from the ground for hours, until the worsening storms forced them to move into orbit aboard Bail’s ship, the Tantive IV, to avoid disruptions to their communications. It was a task that was beyond monumental, but the Organa family had no shortage of willing volunteers to assist. Both the Jedi Anakin Skywalker and Master Yoda joined Bail on the Tantive IV, and the respective leaders of most of the fleet’s ships either joined themselves, or sent representatives to assist with the effort.

The scale of this disaster, the destruction of an entire planet, was staggering, but so too was the scale of the response. Planetary governments, philanthropic organizations, and even just individuals with a ship and a conscious, showed up to evacuate as many as they could. There was nearly an incident when vessels of Separatist make arrived from Muunilist, but given the desperate nature of the situation, and Falul’s assurances, Bail was convinced to allow them to help. The skies of Alderaan hosted a constant stream of ships of all classes and many allegiances, and there was hardly a moment when ships were not entering or dropping out of hyperspace in orbit above the planet. The destination for their evacuation was a planet called Mantor VII, which was only a system away. In hyperspace, it hardly took more than a few minutes to make the trip, so the process of boarding and disembarking often took longer than the trip itself. As such, most of the ships they had could make many trips in the day they had been given.

Under normal circumstances, no amount of volunteers would have been able to do much for the administrative nightmare of coordinating such an enormous multitude of ships with any reasonable amount of efficiency. However, the AI, Isaac, proved to be an invaluable asset. The UNSC AI had the capacity to track and send instructions to every single ship involved in the evacuation simultaneously, which allowed the rest of them to focus on high-level decision making, rather than micromanagement. Between the number of ships they had available and the surprising efficiency with which they were able to utilize them, they started out at a remarkable pace in getting people off-world. In fact, if they could have kept up their efforts at that same pace in the day they had, they could have likely evacuated every single soul off of the planet. Unfortunately, that was not what fate had in store for them.

The worsening state of Alderaan itself eventually became a substantial hindrance to their efforts. The storms had been harsh from the beginning, but they eventually engulfed every part of the planet’s surface, and they became strong enough to be hazardous to many of the ships that had come to help them. Only more resilient, usually military vessels could still brave the storms. The rest had no choice but to wait in orbit while the dropships that could still land brought people up from the surface. The Daedalus’ beaming technology also allowed them to fill the ships in orbit, but they could only teleport so many at once. Some ships did ignore the warnings and attempted to land regardless, and not all returned. As one day moved into the next, their pace had slowed to a crawl compared to when they started, but they carried on regardless. The arrival of Mon Calamari ships did reinvigorate their efforts for a time, as they were among the few, sizable ships remaining that could still weather the atmosphere. It was unfortunate that the sheer distance between Alderaan and Mon Cala meant that they could not have been there from the start.




Falul ‘Taham - Aboard the Tantive IV





The bridge of the Tantive IV was currently, and had been for most of the past day, packed with more people than it was really meant to comfortably accommodate. Every member of their ragtag fleet had sent at least one representative to assist. Falul himself had decided to leave his ship in command of his second and instead help directly with the evacuation. He could not claim to have direct experience in coordinating an evacuation, but at least some of the skills involved in coordinating an invasion were still relevant. He did, for a time, have Vael take his place so he could rest. Although some of those present had not slept at all since the start of the evacuation, most notably Bail and Queen Breha themselves.

There were others from other factions outside the fleet that Bail had allowed into their makeshift command center as well. Currently Bail was standing around a holo-map displaying the planet alongside a Human woman who had identified herself as a “senator” from Chandrila. Falul did not recognize the title, and he had been far too preoccupied with the evacuation to remember the names of most of the people he had met today.

It had been three hours since the last evacuation center had been rendered entirely unlivable. Still, there had been isolated areas on the planet that sensors determined could still potentially support Human life, so the Daedalus had spent those hours scanning them for life signs. They did find small pockets of survivors that they were easily able to beam up to the Aegis but only a handful of times, and only in small numbers. The largest of the groups numbered only about fifty. For all intents and purposes, the evacuation was over. Just slightly less than half of the planet’s population of two billion was able to make it to safety.

Falul approached the holo-map, just across from Bail. They were looking at sensor scans that had been sent from the Daedalus. It was the third scan in a row that had returned no signs of life on the planet below. “I believe it is time for us to deal with the matter we discussed before. We still have access to Anubis’ broadcast. We can give your galaxy any message we want them to hear.”
That is the meaning of sapient. It would be a fully-fledged AI.
I have seen no actual problems that would prevent it from being accepted.

If I were to point out one thing, it is that you mentioned the ship has a sapient combat computer, @ZAVAZggg. That would be a full-fledged AI. An artificial being. I wouldn't say there is a problem with having that, but are you sure that AI is consistent with the ethos of the species' society?
It went without saying that there was an air of anxiety in the camp throughout the morning, but there were few present who were not professionals. Regardless of the danger ahead, all three armies had capable warriors that were prepared to face it. Since they were not directly responsible for any more preparations, Meesei’s pack had been free to spend their morning as they saw fit, but ultimately, they did need to get outfitted at least an hour or two ahead of time.

The camp itself now felt empty, as the majority of the warriors from all armies were now taking positions out in the clearing near the great gate. Meesei’s pack, meanwhile, had gathered near the tents next to the portal back to Tamriel, being outfitted in their equipment that had just been brought in from the Silent City. The children were present as well, though after this, they would need to return back to Tamriel.

Meesei, now in her werewolf form, was the first to be equipped, and in the dragonbone plate, she was truly a sight to behold. There was something fitting about a lycanthrope being protected by bone, though it certainly helped that it was also stronger than any metal that could be forged. The plates across much of her body were large and tended to overlap with one another, and any parts that were naturally spiked were kept short for practicality’s sake. Joints and other sections between plates were covered by chainmail made from ebony, and the helmet itself was, appropriately, made from the dragon’s skull. It was open enough to still allow Meesei to use her teeth in battle. Beyond its natural durability, the armor, and all of their new equipment, was enchanted to her exact specifications. Being that Meesei could still use her magic, the enchantments primarily augmented that strength, giving her an expanded magicka pool and quicker regeneration. There were also enchantments to provide additional resistance to magical attacks, in case any were to break through her wards. They were perhaps not the most unique enchantments, but they were practical, useful, and complemented her strengths.

For the others, the Forgemaster and his assistants went around one at a time to help equip each of them in the armor they had selected, either for their beast forms or normal forms. Although he tried to hide it, one could tell he was watching each of them closely for their judgments on his craftsmanship.
Vael ‘Virisusai - Aboard the Assimilator


Vael had not been a part of previous interactions with the crew of the Egg Carrier, and any briefing he received had only contained relevant, practical information about them. He knew that at least one of them would be difficult to work with, but beyond that, the small creature’s apologies did not have much personal meaning to him. But, some of her words did have more of an impact…like a dagger stabbing through one of his hearts. To see a planet devastated and dying, and to have the power in one’s own hands to give life…or to take it. It was not unfamiliar.




CCS-class Battlecruiser in orbit above a Human Colony, Human-Covenant War





The bridge of the Covenant Battlecruiser was a flurry of gunfire, plasma blasts, and grenades. The entry point for the UNSC’s soldiers had not been as close to the bridge as they could manage, but they had to pay in blood for every hall they fought through on the way there. Marines and ODSTs lay dead alongside the Grunts, Jackals, and Elites they had killed on route to the bridge, but their sacrifices had brought them to the brink of victory. Though, they were cutting it close. The Battlecruiser was in position over its target, aimed at a city that was serving as one of the few remaining evacuation centers. It needed only to fire its glassing beam.

With a squad of four Spartan-III supersoldiers as the Humans’ spearhead, the bridge was down to its final defender. The Spartans were outfitted with MJOLNIR Mark IV armor, and most of them were already showing their battle damage. The final Elite they had to face was none other than the shipmaster himself, based on his gold armor and imposing stature. One of the Spartans put a few hits into his shields with a captured plasma rifle, but he quickly forced each of the Spartans back into cover with a volley of concussion rifle blasts. “Nishum! Contemptable heathens! Your world is already doomed!”

The shipmaster kept back the Spartans with a few more concussion blasts while stepping back towards the control console for the primary energy projector. It was already aimed, he just needed to press the button to fire. It was when he was reaching his hand back that he turned his head enough to see another Human rushing towards him from his left. He was an ODST, thrusting towards his chest an energy sword taken from a fallen Elite. The shipmaster raised up his weapon quickly enough that the sword pierced through his concussion rifle, but was stopped short of his armor. The Elite quickly grabbed the Human’s wrist and broke it almost without effort, forcing him to drop the blade. Just a moment later, he activated his energy dagger and thrust it into the ODST’s chest. However, his scream of pain also hid the distinctive sound of the frag grenade in his other hand being primed. When the shipmaster did notice, it was too late to react.

The grenade’s detonation separated the two beings in both a quick and grisly fashion. The ODST was practically blown apart, though the Elite was very much still in one piece. The shield strength of such a high-ranking Elite was enough that he could survive even such a close-range blast with depleted shields and non-fatal injuries. Or at least, that would have been the case had they been alone. The Spartans were quick to finish the writhing Elite with a hail of bullets and plasma fire.

With the death of the ODST, only a single marine remained out of their boarding party, aside from the Spartans. He stepped forward with a shocked expression, unable to look for too long at what remained of the ODST’s body. “Oh, god…Owens. You didn’t have to…I should’ve…”

As the Spartans were moving forward to complete their objective, one stopped just in front of the marine, his mere presence demanding his full attention. “Owens just saved a hundred thousand souls.” He said in a decidedly neutral tone. He did not come across as particularly compassionate or sympathetic, but it was enough to focus the marine.

Even as the bridge had just been cleared, the squad leader of the Spartans had already swung his battle rifle back around towards the bridge’s entry hallways. “Get that program uploaded. Reinforcements won’t be far behind.”

Another of the Spartans approached the control console, pulling out a data drive that had been adapted to interface with the Covenant computers. However, despite how quickly they had acted, and how vigilant they had been, they soon found that they were not alone. It was uncertain at what point in the battle he had entered the bridge, or if he had been there all along, but before the data drive could be interfaced with the console, the Spartan holding it was struck by three shots from a plasma rifle: one in the upper back, and two to the back of the head. As the Spartan’s lifeless body dropped to the floor, the shots interrupted the active camouflage, revealing the massive form of an Elite clad in the dark violet armor of a Field Marshal across the room.

“Zealot!” The squad leader shouted, prompting the remains of his team to dash for cover. The Spartans were exceptionally quick to act, so the Zealot fired his shots at the lone marine as he moved into cover himself behind a support column, striking him in the chest and stomach. His armor was effective to an extent, but it was certainly not enough to keep him in the fight.

Once they had their positions, the Spartans took aim, but the Elite did not seem to make any move from behind his cover for several seconds. The room seemed completely still for those long moments, until one of the Spartans’ motion trackers picked up on their opponent’s movement. “Left!” She called through their comms as she opened fire with her plasma rifle at a shimmering that caught her eye. One shot managed to strike his shields, immediately disrupting the active camouflage and forcing him into cover behind a Covenant weapon crate. It was hardly the best cover, and not likely his intended position to take.

With just a few gestures, the squad leader ordered his team forward. The Spartan with the plasma rifle moved left, knocking over another weapon crate to crouch behind for cover, while the squad leader moved to the pillar the Elite had ran from to keep range with his battle rifle. The third Spartan, who was down to just his shotgun, started to move towards the Zealot’s cover.

As soon as he was close enough, the Spartan pushed aside the weapon crate to expose the Elite to both of the other Spartans, as well as himself. At that range, one shot from his shotgun would at least mostly deplete the shielding of the Zealot, who would certainly fall quickly to the combined fire of both of his allies. However, the Elite was quicker to react than expected. While the Spartan was moving the crate, the Zealot had already been moving to hit him with a backhanded strike that knocked him clean off of his feet. The shotgun did fire, but only part of the spread actually contacted the edge of the Elite’s shield. Both of the other Spartans still opened fire, but the squad leader only landed one burst into the Zealot’s shields before he could return fire and land a shot from his plasma rifle onto the Spartan’s shoulder, at the joint. At least part of the superheated plasma burned its way through his undersuit and into his flesh as the squad leader pulled himself back behind the pillar.

However, before he could bring his weapon to bear on the last Spartan, her plasma rifle depleted his shields, and even landed a shot on the upper part of his stomach, though his armor protected him at least to the point that he was not incapacitated. The Spartan was forced to duck down behind the weapon crate once the Zealot opened fire, but there had been enough time for the first Spartan to recover from the Elite’s blow. His weapon had been knocked far out of his reach, but he was still armed. He got up to one knee with a plasma grenade in his hand, and just as the Elite was turning to face him, he threw and stuck it straight to the Zealot’s helmet.

In almost every situation, a plasma grenade stuck to one’s armor was a death sentence. Usually, there was nothing one could do in the few seconds before detonation but come to terms with their own demise. However, with fast reactions, and even faster thinking, there was a way for the Zealot to cheat death. He yanked his helmet off of his head so quickly he almost broke a mandible that got caught between two of the mouth guards. The excess plasma emanating from the grenade burned his hand, but he ignored any and all pain as he threw the helmet away…directly towards the female Spartan. It landed behind the weapon crate she was crouched behind, and at that point, the fuse was short enough that it detonated almost immediately to envelop her entirely in superheated plasma.

As soon as the Zealot had gotten his helmet off, the first Spartan had drawn his knife. Whatever he felt upon seeing his squadmate most likely die to his grenade did not stop him from going for the kill. He lunged for the Elite’s exposed throat with his blade, but he could not have known of the Zealot’s skill as a blademaster. He could get his free hand to his energy sword, turn, and swing as he activated it in a single, deft motion. Even though the Spartan could see and react in time to know the blade was coming, he simply had no options to prevent the sword from bisecting him.

The last that remained were the squad leader and the Zealot. The squad leader had dealt with his wound enough to continue fighting, though not quickly enough to save his squad. The Spartan took aim, but the still-shieldless Elite decided not to take the risk of challenging him in a direct exchange of fire, instead diving behind the weapon crate once more for cover to recharge his shields. The Spartan still fired a burst, but without an angle on the Zealot’s head due to his dive, the three shots struck his body instead, with no way to know what effect they had.

There was only the briefest moment of hesitation from the Spartan as he made his choice. He had no grenades and did not have an angle on the Zealot, nor would he be able to get angle before his opponent’s shields recharged. So, he chose to complete his mission. He made a dash to the ramp leading up to the command platform. His motion tracker caught the Zealot moving too as soon as he hit the ramp, but he stayed focused on his goal. Only one thing mattered out of all of this.

The Spartan rushed up to the fire control console and reached down, grabbing the modified data drive out of the clutches of his dead squadmate. All of the complexities of this sabotage had been taken care of by the AI that designed the program, so all he had to do was, essentially, plug the drive into the console. He reached out towards the console in front of him, data drive in hand, when that very hand was struck by a well-aimed shot out of a short burst of plasma rifle fire. The drive was practically incinerated, and his hand heavily burned along with it.

The Spartan turned his head to see the Zealot towering over him, his sword poised to run him through. Even with all chances of completing his mission now seeming hopeless, the Spartan still did not give up. He brought his rifle around and fired a burst underarmed up at the Elite precisely enough that a shot struck the hilt of the energy sword itself, disabling it. Ultimately, though, it was only a small success. The Zealot still followed through, striking the Spartan square in the center of his head with a full-force blow from his fist. The hit knocked him to the ground with a loud thud, cracked his visor, and sent his rifle sliding far out of reach.

The Zealot tossed the useless hilt aside, reached down, and pulled off the Spartan’s helmet as he stood over him. Any lesser Human would likely have been killed by the sheer force of the blow, but the Spartan still drew breath. The Human tried to push himself up off the floor, but the Zealot grabbed him by the throat and lifted him up in the air. He struggled just to breathe under the crushing force of the Elite’s grip, but could not avoid locking eyes with the Sangheili warrior.

“Your efforts bear the mark of bravery Human, but your heresy shall always be doomed to fail against our righteous strength. Now, you may die the warrior’s death you have earned.” Vael spoke with an even tone, his voice unburdened with anger, even for the deaths of his own allies at the hands of the Humans. The Spartan could not take a breath to even speak up in response, but he still did not roll over and just accept death. He pulled his knife from its sheath, but his last act of defiance was cut short by Vael tightening his grip to its full strength, crushing his neck almost completely.

The combat knife hit the floor as the Spartan’s body went limp. Vael dropped his victim unceremoniously, then approached the fire control console that the Humans had been so desperate to reach. Even had he not observed them from stealth, their intentions would not have been difficult to determine. The battlecruiser’s glassing beam was targeted on one of the last remaining, and largest evacuation centers on the planet. There were other ships glassing other parts of the planet, but if this ship was unable to complete its task, then the Humans below would likely have enough time to escape before another could take its place. The Shipmaster had failed to protect his ship against the Humans’ attempt at sabotage, but he had at least retained some shred of his honor by dying in battle against them.

Vael’s gaze went to the view screen in front of him. Storms of fire marked the devastation that was engulfing the majority of the planet, save for the part of the continent directly underneath them. Just as the Shipmaster had attempted before, Vael’s hand went to the holographic panel and, with a simple touch, the ship’s cleansing flame extinguished any trace of every lifeform in its path.




Vael ‘Virisusai - Aboard the Assimilator





Looking down upon the dying planet, Vael’s hand clenched tightly into a fist. His determined gaze remained fixated on the planet as he finally spoke. “This planet may die, but this time…my hands shall serve to deliver its people to safety.”
"Well, you have been doing a good job of it." Meesei replied, keeping her arms tightly around Sabine. "I will not lie, I wish I could keep you here in safety, but I do not think we can do this without you."

Meesei eventually released Sabine and gave a quick glance to the exit. They would not be able to put off starting their day forever, but at this point, Meesei was starting to feel that she was ready. "Just promise me you will keep yourself safe out there, alright? We are going to be...creating our future for our world today, and more than anything, I want you to be able to live in it."




Ahnasha gave a shrug. "Honestly, I don't know if I can describe all the...tricks I have now. Really, I think the best way for you to understand them would be to see them with your own eyes. If I want to give up on any illusion of humility...I would say that what I can do is just outright amazing."

Ahnasha took a few steps towards the tent's exit, though continued looking back towards Fendros with a grin and an excitedly swaying tail. "It does sound like I have a lot to show you today. Maybe we should hurry?"
Vael 'Virisusai - Aboard the Assimilator





There was no hesitation, nor even a moment of distraction when his opponent fell, regardless of who dealt the killing blow. He could occupy their attention in melee while his ranged allies found their shots, and that was his precise intentions. The final two opponents knew they were outmatched, but Vael did not expect them to flee nor surrender. He had heard their words upon challenging them, and he knew, perhaps better than anyone, what was going through their minds. They were zealots, completely, religiously devoted to their master, and they would carry out his will by any means necessary. The form it took, in this case, was sacrifice.

Vael was certainly ready to act, and the cyborgs gave him plenty of warning of their presumed demise for him to react. In one motion, he moved a blade to its holster and reached back to produce a small, glowing metal disk. It was a piece of equipment originally of UNSC origin, but one he found useful. Rather than just protecting himself, he threw the drop shield at the feet of the two cyborgs moments before their self-detonation, then rolled towards one of the pits next to the bridge’s central walkway.

The drop shield could not entirely contain the combined explosions and was depleted quickly, but it did dampen them to make them less dangerous to himself and his allies. His own shields flared from the heat of the blast, but he made it down into the pit in time to avoid injury.

Naturally, the first priority of many was to check for casualties, but Vael wanted to ensure that there were no more to come. “Disable the vessel’s external defenses, quickly.” Vael ordered as he climbed up onto the bridge’s central walkway. “Once they are down, have the Daedalus scan the ship for any surviving enemies, then remove them. This will have all been for nothing if we allow them to sabotage the ship.”

Vael stepped forward towards one of the large windows at the front of the bridge, looking for any signs of enemy strikecraft outside. Although, his eyes were eventually drawn towards the planet itself. He remembered what it had looked like on approach, and already the storms were engulfing its surface. It might not have been burning in fire, but it was clearly a planet in pain.
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