It was assumed the point of arrival used by Slingshot would have taken notice of the vessel if said system were to be inhabited. In a fit of paranoia, JVLN dictated its forces must use a different arrival angle—one that placed them in the "Kite's Nest" cluster of the target, in addition to sending a significant escort force along. Galactic rotation meant a slight shortening of distance to this target vs. the time Slingshot arrived, but because the galaxy in question rotated once about every 225 million years, the distances involved weren't really significant. The fleet dropped from superlight near what was believed to be a habitable garden planet.
The lead elements consisting of several heavy cruisers appeared first. The blocky, bulky ships bore distinct design elements marking them as Jakobs products. Ironically, this gave them the general aesthetics of a Tediore weapon at first glance, though Tediore did not manufacture spacecraft. Jakobs preferred armor over weapon-energy-draining shields. Scaling energy projection beyond the size of a small town remained problematic, though experimental Eridium-crystal based designs employed by Hyperion offered some protection to capital-scale ships.
"Looks clear" noted a sensor officer on the bridge of JSS Stellar Sheriff. "Signal the rest of the patrol to disengage cloak." Iron Law and Bandit's Bane appeared, having shut down their energy-draining invisibility systems.
"Two million klicks ahead—there's our planet!"
The inhabitants of Khar'shan would have disagreed with the statement, had they heard it.
The rest of the fleet's arrival followed shortly thereafter, having been timed to give the point ships a few minutes to look around.
First came the Jakobs supercarriers—looking like rectangular boxes with engines whose fronts tapered off in a triangular prism. Following the hybrid cargo/fighter vessels came capital-scale warships. Equipped with monstrous turrets flinging huge kinetic impacters, their thick armor and surprisingly powerful engines made them a force to be reckoned with despite rather bland appearances. Last to materialize in the Jakobs fleet were support type ships, including more heavy cruisers, frigates, destroyers, and smaller fleet-supply transports.
To prevent the entire fleet from being jumped, the rest of JVLN arrived at different positions, though still in the same system. From above, the formation resembled a large triangle: Jakobs at the front, with Hyperion making up the bottom-left and Vladof the bottom-right.
Hyperion's ships imitated no one (unless imitation of their own weapons counted), with angular construction, many (mostly-unnecessary) flared portions (some served as heat exchangers/solar panels), and a general vibe of "tried too hard to look futuristic." Their fleet focused on supercarriers, though a handful of battleships and fleet support accompanied the main force. Hyperion vessels utilized proprietary Eridum reactors, allowing them to power shield generators in addition to carrying heavy armor.
Vladof focused on one thing: more firepower. Thus, their vessels were best described as "Bolt life support and engines onto something carrying as many weapons as possible." If they hit you, you'd feel it. However, Vladof skimped on armor, so should the target survive, the attacking ship might be in for a world of hurt.
Overall, thirty supercarriers, fifty battleships, and hundreds of smaller craft moved as one in the JVLN fleet. Intercepted by a picket fleet crewed by some humanoid-looking aliens, the fleet tried to explain its purpose in hunting down fugitives from justice, its authority granted by the Corporate Asset Protection Act, etc. These reasonable requests were rebuffed with violence, so JVLN drove its point straight through the heart of the irritating aliens. One supercarrier actually sustained significant damage from some kind of yellow energy weapon mounted on several enemy cruisers, but escorts rapidly closed and eliminated the troublemakers.
Whoever calibrated the sensors indicating the planet the fleet now orbited was uninhabited would be fired. Out of a kinetic accelerator, into a black hole. Roughly a billion of the four-eyed aliens lived on the surface—which rightfully belonged to JVLN—so repossession operations began. Military doctrine disdained urban warfare despite the nearly unlimited supply of Loaders and BattleMechs that could be generated so long as the fleet had power—so precision orbital bombardment was used to forcibly evict resisting populations. That "evict" often meant "from this existence" did not bother JVLN in the least.
Had the Hegemony been on better terms with the Citadel races, someone might have noticed or cared about most comm buoys to Khar'shan going silent. As it stood, the assumption was that the delusional (it once claimed an economy rivaling the asari) government had simply decided to give the galaxy the silent treatment, again. The loss of several minor survey ships similarly failed to raise any alarms. Net result: JVLN had two months to establish itself undisturbed on a planet mostly emptied of its previous inhabitants save for a few hundred thousand kept around as slave labor.
The universe seemed to have a cosmic sense of karma, as the going-well nature of JVLN's establishment in G-6 coincided with things in G-3 getting worse than usual. From apparently nowhere, gigantic purple-black vessels bearing an extremely vague resemblance to a cross between a crab worm and spiderant appeared, attacking anything in their path. Disturbing changes were noted in areas where the ships landed—spiderants with Eridian cannons replacing their heads, bandits whose skulls split open to reveal some kind of biological spike launcher (with impalers for hands!), threshers which had somehow become even more dangerous than usual, horrible fusions of former Crimson Lance into eight-limbed "Laniders"… It was a horror show that caused even the creator of Skrakk to say "What the hell?"
Zed inexplicably declined to travel to the new galaxy—instead opting for a risky method to get back to Sanctuary. Finding an intact New-U Station a day's drive away from the remains of the spaceport, he re-enrolled himself after great effort (he was, after all, a doctor, not an engineer).
"Now I have no idea whether this will work" he dictated into an ECHO, "But if it doesn't, hopefully my body will still make it back!" Sliding the recorder into his pocket, he pulled out a pistol.
It wasn't a high-powered, super-sophisticated weapon like the types the Vault Hunters typically carried, but it would do. It was, after all, a Jakobs.
BANG.
"Thanks for using this Hyperion New-U station! Please die again!"
"Well that's certainly a weird way to arrive."
"Shut up, I don't even know you! Who stands next to New-U stations, anyway?" Zed ignored the random person and headed back to his clinic, which he'd left in the care of Sir Hammerlock.
Sanctuary welcomed the news that the Vault Hunters all survived the attack, hijacked Hyperion's starship and were on their way to a new (hopefully less crappy) galaxy.
"It surprises me Hyperion has made no effort to retaliate for the destruction of their moonbase or the theft of their most advanced ship. They are well-aware who committed both acts!"
"Oh come on Hammerlock, you know they're probably building some over-wrought super revenge device to blow us up, except it doesn't work because someone left a thermal vent open or something" replied Zed.
Despite tempting fate, absolutely nothing of note happened to Sanctuary for months, unless Scooter lighting his garage on fire (for the fifth time in as many months) tinkering with a faster variant of the Monster counted. The AON system fired up a few times to intercept token Hyperion rocket attacks, but since none of them hit, it didn't really rattle anyone.
Sure, the big corps were building something, and bandits kept yakking about some "javelin" project, but again, nothing involving Sanctuary or attacks against it.
Almost a year after the Vault Hunters departed, rakk dung hit the turbines. The sky turned black with the strange aliens. No one was sure if they were just ships, or if they might actually be alive. Their red eye-beams convinced some they were the harbingers of an apocalypse. Most disturbing of all, Psychos began to act in an orderly fashion—creating what appeared to be prayer rings where they chanted about Vaults and Sirens (before being vacuumed up by the nearest nightmare machine).
"We have to get help!" shrieked Patricia Tannis in a rare moment of complete lucidity. "The Harvesters will kill us all!"
Assembled in a Tribunal, those left in charge of Sanctuary attempted to figure out their next move.
"How?" Michael Mamaril rarely fell into despair, except when faced with something so beyond the impossible no solutions (no matter how wacky) presented themselves. "The Harvesters are indestructible, and they constantly create armies of…I don't even know!"
"Well, we know what not to do! Let Dr. Zed handle the problem! Ahahahah—"
A well-aimed kick from Marcus silenced the little yellow robot. Technically, Claptrap was correct—the last time someone let Dr. Zed create twisted hybrid creatures, they attacked everything in sight. No one wanted to give the Harvesters more to work with, either.
"Does that interstellar radio still work?"
In response to Michael's question, Moxxi pulled the device down from the shelf. Strategy for saving the planet, formulated in a bar. Clearly the superior solution!
"You know, turnin' that thing on might bring them tentacled things right down on our heads!" drawled Scooter. "Cause, radio transmissions, and stuff!"
"We have to take the risk!" intoned Tannis.
"No. We do it as far away from Sanctuary as possible."
Marcus Kinkaid usually only cared about himself and his profits, but Sanctuary were destroyed—he'd lose at least fifteen repeat customers. Also, Moxxi. But he wasn't going to use that as a justification, not out loud, anyway.
"But sugar, if we leave, what will happen to all these people?" She might not have been able to protect all her children, but Moxxi would not let the innocent inhabitants of this town become casualties of war. Not without a fight.
"Them monsters be swattin' everythin' that flies! So we best stay on the ground." As if to accentuate the point, the remains of a buzzard plowed into a rock outcropping, sliced in half by one of the red energy beams emitted by the nearest Harvester.
In a much less excited voice, Scooter noted "Also, those flyin' crabworms destroyed most of the Fast Travel system and jammed the New-U stations."
"Despite the danger, Scooter is right" intoned Michael. "We take vehicles and everyone from this town. We activate the radio, then we drive like our lives depend on it. Because they will. Everyone's lives, not just ours. We will fight for Pandora, we will fight for the lost!"
Despite showing little emotion, the intensity in his voice pulled everyone along like a riptide current. Just as the citizens of Sanctuary banded together to send the Vault Hunters off, so did they unite in the face of the biggest threat Pandora had ever seen. Only this time, a furious calm settled over them. No war whoops, chants, or cheers—every citizen gave it his or her all, because there might not be a tomorrow. Even Tiny Tina somehow remained serious.
Standing on an upturned red chest, Mamaril gave final instructions to the citizens of Sanctuary.
"We are leaving Sanctuary behind forever" began Michael. "You are allowed one small personal possession—the rest of our space must be dedicated to food, water, and supplies."
"You are volunteering for a mission that is almost certain to result in your death" he continued. "We face the abyss, and when it comes, we will go gladly to it knowing we have done all we can to prevent others from sharing our fate."
"All who accept this challenge, step forward."
As one, Sanctuary's inhabitants put their right feet in front of their left.