"You're telling me there's not a bloody gunner's turret on your goddamn ship?"

"Yes! I'm sorry Boreas, but now's not the time to start this argument!" I snapped back, only to growl and take evasive maneuvers.

"When we get back to Sylkiir V, I'm going to have a word with Tyr! I'd love to do more than sit back here and puke my guts up, but nooo!"

"Boreas! Shut your trap!"

I only heard him grumble out a response before I had to return my attention to the skirmish at hand. After the six Dreadknights engaged our forces, several more hostiles came out of nowhere and joined the fight. Understandably, I was placed under a fair amount of stress attempting to avoid my attackers while also allowing Alannah to tear them several new ones.

And Boreas' bitching was, to put it lightly, not appreciated.

"Hope I'm lining you up for successful shots, love," I murmured, spinning the Ravager out of the way of an oncoming aggressor.

"You're doing excellently, love," Alannah assured me, "I'm just glad you have homing missiles in your arsenal."

"Try to stick to the primary cannons, love," I replied, "Tyr was only able to load twenty homing missiles into my ship. They pack a punch, but they're not lightweight."

"Oh alright–Ooo...What's this?"

"What's what?" I prompted her, turning my head slightly to address my wife. I spotted the holographic layout of the on-board munitions, which was displayed before my wife. Upon seeing the name she had highlighted, I felt the blood drain from my face.

"Ali...don't."

"But whyyy? I remember Boreas talking about them a while ago!"

"There are only two on board for a reason, and you know damn well why we can't use them."

"And what is that reason, Mr. Smarty Pants?"

"Oh, I don't know? Using one would wipe out our enemies and half of our allies!" I snapped, "Now, please switch back to the primary cannons–those are powered by the reactor in my ship, so those don't run out of ammo."

She huffed and thankfully scrolled away from my wild card. "You're no fun, love..."

"I'm saving those for a rainy day, mijn sintel. For now, please focus on gunning down our enemies."

"Alright, alright..."

And so for the next hour, Alannah and I worked together to tear our hostiles apart: years of risky flying paid off as I dodged enemy missiles and outflanked ballsy pilots who thought they could outsmart me.

Fools...

While the combined forces of Jackson's pilots and Vlahos' fighters gave us an advantage, we weren't without our losses: I had to maintain focus even when I had to listen to a few of my fellow pilots go down in flames. Your sacrifices won't be in vain...

Another hour passed before the last Dreadknight was blown up. Watching the silent explosion unfold before me, I felt myself sag in my seat.

"Let's...head down to Zeunia and figure out what's going on," I stated in a weary voice, "How many did we lose?"

"We lost two Dreadknights on our side," One of Jackson's guild members replied, "A few Dominion and Alliance fighters came with us as well, but I think they're taking stock of their numbers right now."

"What about you?" I continued, addressing one of Vlahos' pilots.

"We lost one ship," came the relatively-emotionless response.

"Alright...could've been worse," I breathed, "Let's get moving–I'm sure our friends on the planetside have a few questions for us."

Thankfully, we were able to continue our approach in peace. When my ship sliced through a few white clouds, I whistled when I caught sight of the planet below us: it looked like Ivoralis, but it didn't appear to be as grandiose. The architecture of the buildings around us was more than a little breath-taking, and I had to remind myself that I was still flying a ship. Damn you Boreas...why did you have to get me into architecture?

Putting that aside, I followed Vlahos' pilots as they led us toward what appeared to be a landing pad. Since everything was made with the highest grade materials, it was hard to tell what was what. Regardless, I shut off my ship's engines when we touched down and rose to my feet with a soft groan. Ow...my back...

"Yep, I feel that," Alannah grumbled as she followed my lead and stood up, "Sitting down for so long while trying to gun down enemy fighters is a pain in the neck...and the ass."

"Preach to the choir," I muttered, walking into the cargo hold of my ship and regarding my crew as they dusted themselves off.

"You fly like a coked-out gander," Boreas growled, "Were you trying to make us sick back here?"

"No, I was trying to make sure we weren't going to get blown to smithereens," I retorted, patting my friend on the back, "Get the stick out of your ass and be glad we're still alive."

My partner grumbled behind me as I got off my ship and waited for everyone else to catch up. The cobbled-together forces Jackson had amassed were busy doing maintenance on their ships and checking on their colleagues, so I left them be.

"So, you must be the assistance Baroness Vlahos sent our way," a silky-smooth voice mused.

An Ae'siiri appeared in front of me, and I quickly realized this one was...most likely a male. However, I couldn't be sure since they were garbed in a robe similar to the Baroness'.

"We are," I confirmed, "And you are?"

"Call me Tomas–That is my Terran name, at any rate," they replied, changing to their human form while they spoke, "I am one of the council members that is in charge here on Zeunia. If you will follow me, I will take you to the capital building."

"Lead the way," Jackson chimed in.

We followed the well-dressed individual away from the landing pad and toward a larger building that sat close by.

"Damn, part of me wouldn't mind living here," Raphael mused.

"No kidding. There's at least a nice breeze," Boreas added, sighing to himself, "The perpetual brightness is a drag, but I suppose it's something we could get used to."

"I'd rather not," Alannah replied, "My cicadian rhythm is fucked up enough, so living on a planet that's always bright and cheery would drive me insane."

"Well...when you put it that way..." Ralph murmured.

We continued walking until we entered what I believed to be the capital building of whatever city my crew and I had just landed in. We made our way through a sprawling foyer with marble benches, gurgling fountains of golden liquid, and platinum-colored insects before stopping in front of another 'waypoint gate,' as Baroness Vlahos had called them.

Our guides walked into the gates, so I took that as my cue to follow after them. Stepping into the ring of silver steel, I felt my stomach do a cartwheel before I appeared in a large, cavernous chamber. A large, round fixture was set into the center of the room, and a semi-circle of seven white marble thrones sat around it. As far as I could tell, the fixture appeared to be a large holographic projector that would be used to communicate with another person.

All that aside, I peeled my gaze away from the pearl-white chamber and focused on the beings that sat in the thrones of flawless marble: As expected, they were all Ae'siiri, but what caught me off guard was the difference in color between all of them. Some had more blue or orange specks of light dancing in their bodies while others looked like someone got them with multiple cans of spray paint.

"Ah, you brought our guests here, Tomas," one of the seated figures mused. After that, the other eight Ae'siiri changed to their human forms. While their hair was the same silver-blonde color as the Baroness', their differences still made themselves known in their hair and their eyes.

"Indeed I did. The Guildmaster of the Silver Foxes and his forces have managed to repel the Federation forces that gathered above Zeunia," Tomas replied, turning to regard us, "How can we repay you?"

"First off, tell me what's going on?" Jackson replied, stepping forward to regard the council of silent beings, "From what the Baroness has told me and my lot, the UTF has been primarily focusing on attacking Ivoralis. Considering how many fighters we fought, I don't think they were coming here to make peace."

"Of course they weren't," one of the Council members replied in a tart tone, "As for why they tried to attack, our understanding is that the UTF wishes to dominate this system. If they could not take Ivoralis, their next goal would be to take another planet in the Lichten system."

"I get that, but Zeunia isn't exactly a small planet–or a remote one, for that matter. Hell, it was a quick trip over here from the capital. Either our enemy made a stupid move, or they're trying to pull something."

Before anyone else could say anything else, someone appeared above the large projector.

"Salutations, councilmen and women," the mystery speaker began in a smooth tone, "I am Fleet Admiral Preston Silva of the United Terran Federation. I am sure you received my expeditionary forces with warm arms?"

"Of fucking course we did," Jackson replied with a snarl entering his voice while he advanced on the projection of the immaculately-dressed officer, "We made sure they were nice and warm when we blew their ships up."

"Ah, Jackson Delacroix. Didn't expect to see you and your ilk here," Silva replied, a cold sneer appearing on his face, "Ah, no matter. As the saying goes, it is better to kill two birds with one stone."

"If I didn't know any better, I could've sworn I read somewhere that you defected from the Federation, Admiral Silva," Boreas chimed in, stepping forward to stand beside Jack. Ignoring everything around him, he started working on his holo-computer for several moments before nodding to himself and looking back up at the enlarged projection, "Yep, a report from six months ago stated you and your fleet mysteriously disappeared from the Piioux system. You're not fighting for the Federation, Admiral Silva, so what exactly are you trying to do–well, other than sending your pilots to their deaths?"

The sneer on his face grew as he responded to my partner's jab. "You seriously expect me to tell your band of degenerates about my plan?"

Boreas shrugged. "Hey, it was worth a shot. No need to be so demeaning, you cunt muffin."

Preston Silva struggled to find his voice for several moments before shaking his head and turning to regard the gathered council members. "I am here to offer you one warning only: my forces are larger than any of you could even possibly fathom. Either you can surrender and accept my terms, or you can be eradicated."

"Or," I cut in, stepping up to the plate, "My lot can reduce your forces to a fine powder."

"Of course the Bringer of Death would be here," Silva growled before raising his voice, "Have you ever faced the wrath of a Federation fleet, Mortifer?"

"I've managed to bust my way out of a blockade once when I was twenty-five, so I guess," I replied.

"Wait, did you use a God-Bre–?" Boreas inquired, only to be cut off by our surprise visitor.

"Cease this pointless banter!" the Admiral snapped, "Either surrender, or face certain destruction!"

"I choose door number three," I interjected, stepping forward and regarding a terminal built into the projector that presumably controlled it, "I slap a bounty on your back and put my hunting expertise to good use."

"You cannot put a bounty on a Federation official! That's illegal!"

"You think legality will stop me? I'm a bounty hunter, for fuck's sake! Once I'm given a target, there's no stopping me," I snapped, hitting a button on the terminal that read 'end communication' before flipping the Admiral off, "Don't keep me waiting, you rat bastard."

And with that, the communication was cut between us and the irate Admiral. In the ensuing silence, I regarded the Council members with a cocked eyebrow.

"So, are we going to lay down and let the Federation walk all over us, are we going to show them we mean business?"

"You should understand the Ae'siiri do not stand down when aggressors dare attempt to subjugate our people."

"That's what I wanted to hear," I responded, clapping my hands together, "Let's get down to business."