Author's Note: To those who've been up to date on following the story, the Fanfiction site was acting rather peculiar last week, preventing me from properly posting Chapter 26. That issue has been fixed, so if you know you haven't read Chapter 26, please do so before reading this one.

Chapter 27: Brittle Bonds

Her breath was heavy, but her feet were fast. The sand underneath was powder in the intense heat. Despite such a dicey terrain, she could dance quite easily on it.

However, no matter how quickly she could dance, the small white figure in front of her could dance far faster.

Reitoko's fists were small and short, yet Ovosh was surprised each time the Arcosian managed to reach her. Each attempt at blocking her opponent's fist resulted in minor miscalculations. She couldn't remember the last time she was on the attack. Every attempt she made to create space between her and the Arcosian would be quickly negated by a burst of speed from her opponent.

As Ovosh retreated again, floating backwards and down, she felt a fierce blow against her forehead. Her head was thrown back as she flew at a volatile velocity through the air. Her heading was in a direction outside of her own choosing.

She crashed into the sand, kicking up a thick cloud as her body was dragged through it by her own momentum. As she slowed and came to rest, Ovosh found the necessary strength to regain control of her body, and rolled upwards, spitting out the clump of sand that had gathered in her mouth. There was a small whiff of air, as Reitoko materialized in front of her. Ovosh glared at him as the Arcosian's black lips curled into an arrogant smile, and his hand beckoned her to attack.

Her feet dug against the sand, causing much of it piling against her heel. She then sprung forward. Ovosh reached Reitoko's position in a mere three dashes, before she took a swipe at him.

Reitoko didn't even raise his arms to deflect. Instead, he maneuvered his head at the precise last moment, allowing Ovosh's fists to come within hair's length, but none closer. Veins appeared in Ovosh's arms, as her strikes grew in aggretion. Yet aggression dulled her accuracy, and certainly did not make any swifter.

The Arcosian struck back at a velocity that left him unseen. Ovosh could only comprehend a white blur, before she received a sharp blow directly in the face. Sooner than expected, her back was in the sand again. Ovosh opened her mouth, and a cold breeze rushed in, causing her to cough.

She quickly raised herself up, brushing off particles of sand. Her breath becoming more aggravated, her fists raised up, ready for another bout. But, upon seeing Reitoko, she hesitated.

The Arcosian had turned away from her. His chin rested in his hand, and his tail wove casually through the air.

Ovosh was breathing heavily, yet this was not due to exhaustion. Thin red veins lay visible in her eyes. Larger veins bulged upon her temples, barely coated by the flesh containing them. The girl's fists remained eternally clenched, eager to engage in combat once more.

A fresh blast of air rushed through the desert. Evening had fallen upon them, igniting the sky in a colorful conflagration of red, orange and blue. Capella's twin suns were golden disks hiding behind the dunes.

Impatience compelled Ovosh to blurt out, "Are you going to tell me what I'm doing wrong, or are you going to maintain this tedious process?"

"Very strange indeed," Reitoko commented, although his voice was distant, and indirect, "you're angry, yet not much is happening. If anything, you're getting easier to beat."

Ovosh was almost certain a blood vessel had ruptured in her brain. She also didn't care much about it. Her hair whipped as she rushed the Arcosian again. Her power appeared to be at its peak, and she could feel a familiar fire in her belly.

Yet, once she was upon Reitoko, he took a small step forward, allowing only the wind of her attack to touch him. With no sort of control on her own momentum, she took yet another tumble through the sand.

"Ovosh how angry are you?" Reitoko asked, turning his head in her direction.

Getting back up, Ovosh shook off the sand, as it would have turned to glass if it maintained contact with her. Furrowed brows and bloodshot eyes were aimed at the Arcosian, who appeared rather unmoved. Reitoko was just as expressionless as ever, and still appeared to be stuck in his own thoughts.

"And yet only a minor power increase, that's disconcerting." he observed.

Something had stuck out to Ovosh, as she tilted her head. The vengeful sea within her was beginning to calm. Her breath was still deep, yet became less ragged. Her muscles relaxed, when before, their exact contour could be traced on her arms.

"What's the matter?" she asked. Despite possessing a calmer state of mind, she still spat out her syllables.

"Legends say that it was immense anger that brought about the Golden Warrior's incredible transformation." Reitoko answered, half-addressing Ovosh, half-looking at the sky, "You've been through a couple of battles, and despite some impressive feats, I've not yet observed such a transformation."

"A transformation?"

The electricity in her brain began to fire. She closed her eyes, for sight would distract her. Just like the Arcosian, her hand was on her chin as she searched rather desperately for the answer.

"Perhaps this isn't something that cannot be brought about by artificial means."

Ovosh's arms extended past her, opening up her chest. Her legs spread out. She could see her shadow upon the ground. The evening sun stretched the form of her body across the terrain, forming some sort of lanky star.

"I've always been able to draw out the required power on the brink of death." she suggested.

"Don't be silly!" Reitoko snapped back. His eyes were wide now, and for the first time, he showed a bit of fear.

"What?" Ovosh questioned, narrowing her eyes at the Arcosian, "Isn't that why you wanted me here? To fulfill the legends of these Golden Warriors?"

"Yes," Reitoko sighed, placing a hand on his temple, "but be reasonable. Imagine I show up tomorrow at the meeting. 'Sorry, don't have Ovosh, I killed her in pursuit of some power that only legends talked about.'"

He shut his eyes. In a quiet, yet still audible voice, he added on, "I'm starting to fear that I'm chasing a myth."

Ovosh felt her knees grow weak. She was tempted to kneel upon the sand, but did not yield. A deep pit formed within her insides. Before, she was glaring at the Arcosian with an intense focus. Now, she couldn't even bear to look at him.

"I'm ... I'm sorry." Ovosh stuttered, "But I can achieve this transformation you desire. I just need the proper environment."

"Training is meant to help you in life or death situations," Reitoko asserted, "Not manufacture them!"

And with that, Reitoko marched off, his clawed feet leaving fresh prints in the sand. Ovosh was frozen solid, feeling the pit within grow ever-larger. As she pondered over what had been said, she felt the emptiness within her fill. The girl could only glare at the outside world through her brow. Clenched fists which once hung loosely now shook with intensity. Breathing, which was once exhausted and measured, became heavy and forceful, until the air which filled her lungs threatened to rip them apart.

Night had fallen, but Ovosh's rage did not subside. Powdery particles were blasted in the air as she stretched her ki to the limit. Her energy aura towered over the land, becoming a golum in and of itself. Her teeth were gritted together, and her muscles bulged and throbbed. Over the dark rumble of the land, her screams pierced the cool air, sounding less like that of a young woman, but that of a wounded beast.

A white light had begun to peer over the horizon, from the opposite end the suns had vanished. It was far less intense than the Capella stars, and did not illuminate the sky the same way. The source of the light was the Sanctuary satellite. During brief periods where she could observe the night sky, Ovosh could only see it shaped as a crescent.

But now, it was a disk, as full as the sun would appear in the sky. For a minute, she was transfixed by it. Yet, the smooth white shape kept reminding her of Reitoko's face. And she remembered why she still lingered outside.

There was another burst of power as the sand was scattered yet again. A cool breeze swept through the area, unsettling the terrain, yet this force of nature was pathetic in comparison to the power Ovosh exerted.

Ovosh inhaled for yet another exertion, her mind capturing the image of the golden specter that had haunted her for her entire life. As she smoldered in anger, she felt another presence approaching from behind. Immediately she ceased her current activities, and whirled around.

Her eyes widened in surprise, upon the fact that the small white form of Reitoko was not whom stood before her. The figure was far larger, far bulkier, yet just as recognizable.

Phonium stood at an awkward angle, placing the majority of his weight upon one leg, giving the impression that he was about to fall over. His waist appeared larger than usual, for he was still wearing the heavy metal brace that Mrs. Smitter had outfitted him. As he shuffled towards Ovosh, the Namekian's movements were stiff and measured, as if he were made from rudimentary mechanics, instead of flesh and blood.

Ovosh opened her mouth to say something, but upon realizing that she did not possess any useful comments, let not a single word pass from her lips. Thus they remained parted, giving her a most

"You appear rather cheerful." he commented. Ovosh could see that the Namekian was as emotionally poignant as always.

"I don't think that's accurate." she objected.

Phonium sighed, letting his head hang over, placing himself in danger of tipping forwards.

"What?" Ovosh questioned, quickly becoming irate.

"Nothing." Phonium deflected, raising his head, before he crossed the point of no return. "I wanted to see how your training was going. It's only been a week."

Ovosh's eyes shifted to the side, then back to the Namekian.

"I can't say it's any better than yours."

"Oh, that bad?" Phonium questioned, cracking a small smile.

"Reitoko referenced a transformation," she recalled, "Something that would help me fulfill the legend of the so-called Golden Warriors. Apparently he's been trying to evoke that out of me before the Empire arrives."

Phonium's brows raised, a look of realization was upon him. "Clever, those Imperials."

"What?" Ovosh tilted her head towards Phonium, as if her understanding of him would increase if she did this.

"As their conditioning dampens emotional response," he speculated, "it would make it harder for you to transform."

Ovosh's shoulders slumped. "That is not encouraging news."

"Wasn't meant to be," Phonium responded.

Yet, past the stonewall of stoic, the Namekian could imagine how distraught Ovosh felt inside. She appeared glued to the ground, oppressed by gravity to remain in the sand. Her eyes had closed, and her arms, still afflicted by faded bruises and scars, remained limp at her sides.

"If anything, our struggle with Mura was encouraging." he added on. "There is a clear path ahead, at least from where I stand. But I, like Reitoko, don't know if this transformation is real, or a legendary exaggeration."

Despite his doubt, he could see Ovosh light up. This also had the effect of him standing up a bit straighter, though he could feel a slight strain on his almost-healed back. With renewed vigor, Ovosh asserted, "I've seen the transformation, I've seen her in my dreams."

"Her?"

"A creature." she explained, "She resembles me, perhaps she is cut from the same genetic cloth. But her hair is golden, and her eyes are teal."

Phonium huffed as he mumbled, "Can't say I'm fond of that color combination."

"She is bathed in a golden aura," Ovosh continued, "and her anger ..."

She could feel the creature, deep within the abyss of the conscious sea reach out. And it had taken ahold of one of her arms, causing it to clench.

"Her anger is absolutely overwhelming." Ovosh could feel her breathing intensify, excitement punctuating every word. "Every time I have approached death, she appears."

"Whenever she wants to come out will be a good time, I say." Phonium commented. In a jilted fashion, he began to approach her. "But, I warn you Ovosh."

He came to a stop, a hair's breath away from her. A green hand was placed upon the girl's shoulder. While his efforts were feeble, Ovosh already felt weighed down by the extremity. He stared straight into her eyes, obsidian locked upon deep brown. As Ovosh looked into the windows of his soul, she noticed that they were not filled with the rage that he expressed when they first met, nor were they as unreadable as rock. Instead, she could observe plain, raw concern within the etched lines of green flesh.

"The path of rage is a dangerous one." he cautioned, his voice almost a shaky whisper, "You can lose your way, real fast. One time, I nearly did. It was a miracle that I was even able to come back."

"How did you come back?" Ovosh questioned.

"I don't know, I just remember..." Phonium looked up cotemplating.

Yet another smile crossed his face. This was perhaps the largest he ever permitted another to see.

"...A girl giving me some water, while I was at the brink of death."

He had then turned his back to Ovosh, limping away. Ahead of him was the white-domed compound she had arrived mere months ago, when she was still but a soft-fresh ex-citizen. While his injury had left him looking shaky, there was strength in each of his footsteps.

...

At the break of dawn, many souls were waking up in the primary city of the Guardian's. The skyline of the grand urban area would be far different to the citizens. Various vessels of many shapes, sizes, and need of maintenance clogged the air, forming metallic lines. Several sirens went off as vessels, many from various factions quarreled for landing spaces.

One of these ships, stuck in a long trail of floating steel, was the bulky form of the Iceni. Percy was clutching the joystick of the ship quite tightly as he glared at the ship in front of him. Oriko, seated right next to him, her head nearly scraping the ceiling, appeared smaller than usual, for she was shrinking away from the captain.

Percy was huffing, and his face was red. He jiggled the joystick again, squeezing the Iceni ever closer to the broad backside of the leading vehicle.

"I swear if this guy doesn't get a move on..." he grumbled.

For all his rage, Percy's managed to confine it to the cockpit. Within the main area of the ship, Reitoko and Phonium stood, and stared quietly at one another. Reitoko was resting near the main counter. His eyes fixated upon the cabinets attached to the ceiling with a gleam of desire.

"I'm going to ask the dear captain for a drink if this doesn't go well." Reitoko commented.

At this, Phonium scrunched his nose. "I'm sure he'll oblige, if he gets to join." he replied.

Deep within the bowels of the engine room, there was a steady rhythm emitting from the metal hulk of the main reactor. It's pace matched with Ovosh's footfalls as she walked around the room. Her head was down, and it appeared she was speaking, yet no sound came out.

Victor leaned against the reactor, outfitted in his oil-slicked, loose mechanics suit. His eyes were glued to Ovosh, watching as she paced around frantically. Inquiries bubbled to the surface, until he could no longer hold his curiosity.

"Is something bothering you?"

Victor immediately shrank back against the reactor, as if the machinery would protect him. Ovosh had snapped around, facing him. Her eyes were tinted red, and outlines of veins could be seen on her forehead.

"Why, what's the matter?" she shouted, her voice as aggressive as one of her punches.

"Nothing!" Victor squeaked, holding up his hands.

Ovosh's face remained red, although for difference reasons. Her eyes widened, as she witnessed Victor's cowering form. She then quickly looked away. As her eyes moved to her own hands, she noticed it was twitching. With several deep breaths, the twitching ceased, yet her sight remained thusly occupied.

...

The hours that it took the scores upon scores of various vessels to organize were the longest in recent history. While a massive open hangar made it host to nearly all the factions that graced Sanctuary, the dividing lines that had sparked the conflict remained. Many jostled for zones, often attempting to grab as many spots as possible for their own with little regard for the other. Negotiations were short and fruitless when it was time to compromise. Any faction that came up short conceded to fitting two ships in one-ship zones.

Yet, even in the face of concession, several arguments had broken out along the catwalks and platforms once personnel had departed their craft. These disagreements lacked civility, not to mention a resolution, and they threatened to break out into conflict.

Many had decided to forgo confrontation outside, and opted to bring it within the great Guardians hall. There was already a large congregation of people upon the marbled floor. Cream colored Guardian soldiers stood awkwardly in the middle, as navy blue and black clad shapes of the NTF denizens, and the ragtag man-animals of the White fang jeered at each other.

In the middle of the mess, Phonium could easily spot NTF's charismatic second-in-command, Helena. Her ice blue eyes maneuvered towards him. Taking her attention off of a rival faction, she grinned, before aiming a finger at Phonium, along with a thumb cocked straight up into the air.

Reitoko's red eyes scanned the grand hall, the present commotion below his attention. He could not spot the leader of any faction. Shere Khan was not roaring at some poor NTF soul, nor was Koth glowering at a defenseless anthro-man. If Mahdi was a desert creature, she was lost to the sand.

A guard had broken from the mob in the middle. Reitoko had to raise an eyebrow, for it was a miracle he even managed to traverse such a violent sea of people. His disciplined glare was solely aimed at the Arcosian.

"It is requested that only the leaders enter." he said.

Reitoko turned to the rest of the members of Z. "Very well, I'll see the rest of you later."

...

The guard walked nearly two paces ahead of Reitoko. Bickering and arguments echoed through guilded walls, reverberating off of statues, and bouncing off of finely framed portraits. The Arcosian didn't even pay attention to where the man was leading him, satisfied with glaring upon his neatly-pressed backside.

Even as he was removed from the volatile congregation, disagreements and conflict persisted, though it was not the chorus of an angry mob. Instead, he could hear two people behind the grand double doors he now stood before. Reitoko's black colored lips curled, for he immediately recognized the voices.

Without occasion, nor patience, the double doors were thrown aside. His entrance, however, almost went unnoticed. O'brian, seated at his mahogany desk, did not even spare a glance for him. While the old man remained in a prone position, exhaustion had already filled every wrinkle, and darkened the flesh beneath his eyes.

The cloaked form of Mahdi sulked off to the side, also, not even acknowledging the newest addition to the room.

All attention, instead, had been directed towards two easily recognizable figures in the center. They both leaned towards one another, with aggressive intentions. Though they cast very different shadows, one could imagine them as one and the same. The wild, ragged figure of Shere Khan looked as if he were about to rip apart the man that stood in front of him. His bloodshot eyes glared into the steel gray pools of Koth, who could have easily been mistaken for a serial killer. His own figure was as clean-cut as always, featuring such jagged edges they could have cut flesh.

"Very brave of you to expect that I would ally myself with you after what you did to us!" Khan shouted directly at Koth, letting hot, dogged breath wash over the Admiral's face. For a few moments, the leader of the White Fang gave the impression he would forgo his accusation and simply eat his eternal enemy's head.

"Did I say ally?" Koth shot back, appearing unmoved, "Such terms imply an equality between us, which is laughable. My association with you, animal, is temporary."

"Gentlemen, gentlemen, clearly, we've been afflicted with a case of amnesia."

Both Koth and Shere Khan were able to break off their argument with the other, each expressing sheer surprise upon noticing Reitoko's presence in the room. It was only a moment in time, however, and the conflict resumed unimpeded.

"Clearly," Khan huffed, aiming a clawed finger at the Admiral, "as Koth forgets his human whelps attacked our settlement!"

"It was an ugly stain on the desert." Koth retorted, folding his arms, the slightest shadow of a smile appearing curling upon his steel-cut face, "Surely, you wouldn't want something so putrid to simply ferment there."

"Clearly, nothing is getting accomplished here!" O'brian yelled out, all of the sudden. His commanding voice had managed to get Koth and Khan to break away from one another again.

The Guardian patriarch had firmly stood from his seat. Both of his hands planted firmly on his desk, threatening to spread cracks on the warm chestnut-glazed surface. He was huffing, and his face was bright red. Shere Khan gave Koth an aside glance, as the confrontation had immediately halted. Not a syllable was uttered from the vicious maw of the White Fang, nor did the iron tongue of the Neo-Terran Front dare to interfere.

But, O'brian was not done.

"No working alliance will ever be formed, too bad! Dismissed!"

His arms waved wildly. The two bickering leaders were now silent, similar to children who had been caught. Reitoko had narrowed his eyes at O'brian, his foot began to tap on the ground.

Mahdi appeared to have returned from wherever she had decided to spend her mind on. Her purple eyes appeared to glow even brighter, as she declared, "You are not escaping this so easily."

"No?" O'brian turned, eyes wide. HIs voice was now high-pitched, and possessed clear intent to mock, "What have the sands gleaned to you this time?"

"The sands tell me of a shadow descending on sanctuary." Mahdi replied, as stoic and mystical as ever, "The worms have whispered to me so. If we try to fight them separately, our sovereignty is doomed."

"What sovereignty? " O'brian growled, waving his arms wildly, "Four broken groups with four different goals in mind?"

He had departed from his desk, staring at the window that framed the area behind him. His back was turned to the others, his hands together for all to see. The Guardian leaders was breathing easier, but that did not mean the storm inside had passed.

"It's futile," he said. Reitoko would not have been surprised to discover his face full of tears, were he to turn around. "We might as well face reality. Even if we did come to an agreement, we're no match for the Empire."

Of all the blackest noises of hopelessness, silence was the most deafening. Shere Khan and Koth could only glare at the back of O'brian's head, his gray hairs now appearing to turn white.

The sound of despair was then broken with an angry shout, "You dare!"

Shere Khan appeared as savage as ever. There was drool on his mouth, red veins coursed through his eyes, and his breath was that of a canine growl. But, his anger was not directed at Koth.

O'brian whirled around, "What?"

"So you're simply satisfied with giving up upon the people you have been sworn to protect?" he accused, "Who look to you to preserve their way of life?"

"What way of life?" O'brian retorted, appearing more annoyed than angry.

Yet, Shere Khan did not have the next word. Koth's icey cold fury was brought to bear upon the Guardian leader as well. "So you're not a coward, you just simply hate your own people."

O'brian's annoyance was gone. Now, there was just anger. "Koth don't you dare!"

"Oh but I do." Koth sneered, "But honestly, should we be surprised? A man who refuses to witness our rightful place in the stars doesn't care for his subjects. "

"You don't know a thing about me, Koth!" O'brian seethed, his voice appearing to come from the depths of his heart.

"I don't know about you, O'brian," Koth mused, a gloved hand stroking his clean-shaven chin, "But there is nothing more despicable than a leader who doesn't care for the people he leads. A leader, who would rather sit back while his people are plundered by a rootless, soulless, Galactic Empire, all because of some meaningless dribble. Honestly, I don't know who I hate more, you, or the animal."

Anger had overtaken O'brian's body. It appeared to be so much, that his body was shaking simply to keep itself together.

"It is hopeless!" he asserted.

Khan had found his response. Yet, instead of savage anger, he presented himself with solemn resolve. "Then if it is, what better way to die, than by protecting the ones you hold dear? Unless, you love no one?"

O'brian opened his mouth, but Reitoko's voice had floated in first. "How clever O'brian." mused the Arcosian, smiling. "You've managed to get Shere Khan and Koth united in their disgust against you. Rather strange that hate tends to be more unifying than love."

Shere Khan's eyes shifted to Koth. "We have our own battle to finish."

"Well then, before you tear each other apart, let's finish this battle, shall we?" Reitoko requested.

His red eyes shifted to O'brian. "Shall we?"

O'brian was still trembling in anger. One could have been easily mistaken that an earthquake was taking place.

His underling, Silver, dressed ever neatly and immaculately, looked with concern to his boss. He had always been there, from the first argument thrown between Koth and Khan, to the volatile reservations of his leader. It would have not been unusual to not take notice of him, for he observed the events before him with dispassionate stoicism.

"Sir?"

Exhaling deeply, O'brian stopped shaking. His eyes closed. He remained this way for nearly a minute, his eyebrows rising and falling much like a tide on a far more hospitable planet.

"Very well," he finally said, opening his eyes to those around him. A bony finger was thrust towards Koth, "But I suggest you work on your diplomatic skills. What you say, can have consequences."

"I'm a man of action, I have no time for insignificant niceties."

There was no indication that the meeting had ended. Yet, Koth had swerved 'round, and headed towards the double-doors. With a single hand, the heavy, gold-emblazoned entrance was pushed aside. Not another word of acknowledgment was said to the others.

Reitoko watched the NTF Admiral's exit with slight amusement. That amusement had vanished once his attention returned to O'brian. "If we're going to defend ourselves against the Empire, we'll need all of Sanctuary to resist their occupation. All of sanctuary."

As he finished, there was a notification from a device on the waist of Silver. The thin man grabbed the device, bringing it to his face. A thin eyebrow was raised as he browsed over it. "Sir, I'm detecting another group of ships coming in. They bear no markings."

With a single breath that could not have conveyed any more contempt, O'brian uttered, "Mercenaries."

...

The scum of Sanctuary were now huddled in a large auditorium. Their combined criminal records could have imprisoned entire planets. Despite the wide halls and high ceilings, the room was packed with rugged and lawless individuals standing shoulder to shoulder, arm and arm, each glaring at their adjacent fellow with disgust. It was a miracle a fight had not broken out, for one loose arm, one flailing fist would have been the spark to an all-encompassing violent confrontation.

There was a raised podium in front of the room, jutting out of the wall, nearly two stories above everyone else. The arced structure contained the Guardian insignia emblazoned on its front in gold. The balcony was topped with fine wood, polished to reflective perfection. As Stern emerged from the shadow, his calculating gaze brought to bear upon the rabble, those in the room began to turn their attentions to him.

"I remember you guys," one mercenary shouted out. This particular man's face was so dirty, Stern could not determine where dirt ended and his scruffy beard began. Through black oil and grime, his mouth opened once more, "You pay well for your jobs."

"We also made you sign a Non-Disclosure Agreement." he reminded them.

"That's a separate charge," the man mentioned. A burst of laughter erupted from the pool of criminals below. Stern's nose was beginning to curl, as the scent of various stimulants and depressants favored by the underworld began wafting upwards.

There was a creak behind Stern, and he turned, with mild surprise to see Reitoko and O'brian emerge from the door behind. But, just as it was about to close, another entered. It was a man of lanky stature, dressed in a long blue jacket, topped with poofy hair.

Reitoko scanned the crowd of mercenaries concentrated within the vast room. It was a complete blob, with no defined rows nor columns. He cleared his throat, but his miniscule gesture was lost among the banter.

"Gentlem- " he began to say, before an olive colored hand was placed on his chest. He glared at the individual who did this.

"Allow me to handle this, glorious leader." Percy smirked.

Immediately, as Percy walked to the front, the chatter had begun to die down. Now whispers danced across the room, hushed, hurried, scandalous, and even frightened. Some glared at Percy, while others began cowering away, squishing their fellows on a distinctive bias towards the exits.

"Well, well, well. Been a long time since I've seen your face." rang a low rough voice among the crowd. Despite the tone rumbling within the baritone register, it nevertheless pierced throughout the hushed ambiance of whispers.

"How disappointing."

Percy's dark eyes immediately keyed in on who had addressed him. His eyes brightened in recognition, then darkened because of it. The man who had called him out appeared to stand a head taller than the fellows around him. Wrinkles and scars aged his face, though underneath his thick brown jacket, it was clear that age took little away from his bodily virility.

The man's piercing gaze met Percy's. He only had one bright blue eye to match Percy's two, for the other was concealed beneath a steel eye patch, unceremoniously drilled to his face. Despite his various injuries, the most grievous he appeared to have suffered, thick dark and jagged, ran through the eyepatch.

In response to the man's apparent disappointment, Percy asked, "Why? That I'm alive?"

"That," he agreed, before growling, "and that you've become so gutless."

Percy leaned forward, over the podium. "Really, and pray tell, gutless. I'm not the one too cowardly to join a cause, and too greedy to refuse a paycheck."

The captain's comeback did little to move the mercenary, who shook his head, as a disapproving father would. "What a shame. You were the most ruthless, only loyal to yourself, and not anyone's servant. You were the standard every merc wanted to emulate."

"I'm not really someone worthy of swearing loyalty to." Percy said, shaking his head, "And guess what, neither are you. What you want to do is turn your back on something headed your way. Fine then, by all means, but don't be surprised if you get shot in that broad back of yours."

The one eye narrowed. Even the eyepatch now appeared to glare at Percy. "Are you calling me a coward?" he accused, a hint of malice within his voice.

"What vast powers of perception you have." Percy replied, sarcasm coloring his. "The thing is, this galaxy isn't going to be big enough for you to run from the Empire forever. You're going to have to face them. Now, do you want to face them with an army, or with that pea-shooting piece of junk you have?"

The man held up his hand. "Never mock a merc's ship Perc, I thought you even knew that?"

All whispers had been silenced. The only noise in the vast auditorium was the two men's confrontation.

"I love my baby," Percy declaired, his hand upon his breast, "But even with all she's capable of, she can't face the Imperial army on her own, she need's help."

Eyes filled with intrigue, greed, hopelessness, and even those with resolve turned to Percy's assailant. The man seemed unnerved at the attention, as his tall stance now shrunk down. As he once stuck out of the crowd of rabble, now he sought to sink back in.

He gave an exhale, closing his eyes. "Very well, fine." he relented, "But you've only convinced me and mine, the rest of these guy-"

There was a crescendo, a crescendo of shouts. All appeared to be in agreement with Percy, and the more that agreed, the more that followed, as each of the mercs' spines appeared to lean on one another.

"And the best thing is, the Guardian's have deep pockets." Percy added in.

The auditorium's obnoxious din, with the conclusion of Percy's lucrative implication, became absolutely deafening. Many mercenaries let out wild yells of joy.

Underneath the racket, Percy could hear the voice of Reitoko behind him. "Wondering when you were going to play that card."

Meanwhile Stern stood still as his eardrums were preparing to detonate. A finger was placed on his ear, but it was not to alleviate the decibels now assaulting them. He nodded, then addressed Reitoko.

When Reitoko noticed Stern, he retreated to the rear of the podium. The Arcosian knew very little of O'brian's assistant, yet, upon facing the man, he anticipated news he would not be pleased with.

"If you want to map out a strategy, do it now. An Imperial capital ship has just arrived in the system."

...

In the starfield of Capella, far away from any planet or star, the shimmering sea of subspace spat out the Trinity, the blue waves hugging its sleek exterior, before dissipating in a blue flash. The ship sailed along, gliding through the various minimal forces of space with absolute precision and grace. It was not the only ship present. however.

In the distance, thousands of kilometers from it, another ship stood. Even from such a position far away, the new vessel appeared rather large. It's hull was bloated and round, with a length-wise elliptical bias. There were various incisions that ran along the circumference at differing heights. The top of the ship was plateaued; the structure almost resembling a rounded staircase to the bridge tower.

And, similar to all Imperial starships, even in the blackness of space, it's hull appeared to be a spotless white.

Through the cockpit window, Markova's eyes were glued to the capital ship in front of her. Meya and Bolshoy were seated at her flanks, yet, she didn't even acknowledge their presence.

"An Inquisitor capital ship." she recited, "The finest of its class. A crew of over 8000, including 5000 ki-capable. 45 ki-amplifier arrays, and a Z-type deflector …"

"You have been tasked with a mighty invasion force. A great responsibility, do not waste it." Meya interrupted. Markova turned abruptly, glaring at the Sword, who reacted the only way he could; a stoic and almost indifferent gaze back at his superior.

"By the end of the day, Sanctuary will be ours." Markova declared, her syllables accented and precise.

"Stick with the invasion plan." Meya instructed, crossing his arms. "You are the Right Hand, a relay of the Emperor's thought. Know your place."

Markova:'s eyebrows furrowed, as she replied, "I know my place. And you know yours as well. And soon, the heretic's of Sanctuary will know their place; under our boot.

The Trinity glided to the port of the monolithic capital ship. Up close, within the viewing ports offered by the vessel, various uniformed men could be seen scurrying about. Several platforms had been exposed to the vacuum of space. Those on the platform appeared unaffected by such hostile conditions, as they attended to large ring-like structures in the center of these platforms.

There was a rectangular opening near the rear of the vessel. The entrance was highlighted, as well as the interior, displaying rows upon rows of various vessels lined up. Upon the smooth black floor, hundreds of imperial soldiers stood in formation. Their posture was impeccable, and their forms lacked any minor imperfections.

The trinity landed at the head of the formation, passing through the slight blue glow of the hangar forcefield. Steam hissed out from the ship, as it's inhabitants exited.

A flank was performed by the soldiers in formation, all exactly at the same time turning precisely to face each other, as the three emerged from the Trinity. Awaiting at the head of the formation was a single individual. He had no helmet on, and his military jacket had several golden sashes streaming from his left shoulder to his right waist, designating him as a superior officer.

As the Emperor's servants reached him, he performed the Imperial salute with the usual stoic crispness. In a droning, emotionless voice, he addressed them.

"I hereby recognize the authority of the Emperor's most high Right Hand. Unless you designate it, the ship is yours to command. We have equipped with us, the three-pronged subspace gate."

Markova nodded. A small smile began to form on her face, despite her efforts. "Once I have word from the Emperor, the invasion shall begin."

Author's Note: We're close to the end of something of a conclusion. There's a massive confrontation coming up that's going to cap off the end of Part 1 of this story. I'm planning on releasing the last four chapters here on a day-by-day basis once I have them polished up. Then, after that, we're in hiatus land. The finale will either begin next week, or the week after if I need more time to edit.

Hope those of you who have stuck it out this far have enjoyed the story. After the finale, I don't exactly know when I'll be resuming my updates on this particular tale, probably a year or two to be honest. This was always going to be a long tale, and I hope someday, this site, or some other, will see the end of it.

To prep for this, I'm actually going to do what I should have done long before, I'm going to reply to the reviews. Better late than never I suppose, at least they haven't been piling up too much.

Trevaacin: Ah, the very first review, and my first confirmation that people weren't just ignoring this story. If you're still sticking with this, congratulations, that's commitment. I've always wanted to do some sort of distant sequel to Dragon Ball Z that sort of shook up the rules a bit, a breather from the constant rewrites of the original plot that I see dominate the field. Hope you enjoy this as much as you appear to have when the first chapter came out.

x2leoj: Once again, I was hoping this would be a different sort of tale on the market. I wanted the writing style to evoke some sort of Tolkien/Pulp feel to it that would make it appear grand/epic. That was the intention at least, don't know about the execution. As for the Power levels, to be honest, I'm not particularly invested in that, nor have I given it much thought. That being said, I might put them at the end of the Part 1 finale, just for reference.

Xander1966: I suppose it is rather strange, isn't it?