Today's likebomber is
@RookDeSuit.
At that point, Cayde in calm despair and Nagara having thrown her latest hand to the table right away, did something finally change with the moon.
Namely, all the stealth systems came down. The smearing faded away, details coming into focus. The hologram disappeared, revealing... actually, another hologram, mimicking the hull below it. It was a massive sphere, covered in glowing patterns that served no purpose.
The interior was moderately more... interesting. There was a lot of open space for such a ship, with accessways to literally everything. Just like Fog hulls, someone had to be able to get anywhere in order to get to any component. Which meant the entire thing had maybe a tenth of the hardware it could have, at best. And it compromised the performance of a lot of different components, too.
Not enough for it to be harmless... probably. As for the occupants, almost all the psychic power was concentrated in one young-looking girl, sitting on a throne and wearing an old-fashioned pressurized space suit with the faceplate removed.
"For a mastermind, she lacks any sense of presentation or fashion." Cayde sniffed.
Something happened.
Iona's core housing had been stuffed with thousands of ASM links, and only one was set to a frequency that didn't correspond to another Fog's ASM link. And now there was traffic coming in through that frequency.
Drei examined the code. It would have activated Iona's control intrusions, then made her send a signal to every other member of the Fog, activating their own control intrusions before forcing Iona to relay her requests. Drei tapped into that channel, absorbing the information flow.
It was a request for information, basically. "Tell me everything that happened in the past week."
Which was going to be way too much information for the human stuck reading it, if the Fog hadn't been completely demolished two hours ago.
Drei watched the girl yawn.
I did not wait two hours so you could get your goddamn coffee.
"Alright, strategy time." Drei said, banging her hand on the table. A hologram appeared, showing the sensor data of the fake moon.
---------
Ten minutes later, the Exiles announced their existence to 'Spacesuit Bitch,' as Jessica said under her breath, with the gift of thantonium. It was of course primed, and the shock of translocation set it off, immediately creating a swirling storm of absorbed D-cell energy.
Unfortunately, psychic power was still bullshit, and Spacesuit Bitch simply willed herself back into physical existence. Before she could even fall to the bottom of the crater, the combined force of several thousand sangraals crashed against her soul.
She grunted, and climbed to her feet.
"Who dares!" She shouted at the ceiling. "I am the great god Slyvine! Your petty tricks will not avail you!"
She grunted again as another wave of sangraal hit her.
"Stop it!"
Drei started transmitting on that special ASM channel, and sent a message. "You're not a god. You're just a child with more power than someone else."
Apparently Spacesuit Bitch - Drei wasn't going to grant her the dignity of using her name - didn't get the words, but the message hopefully came across in the form of another sangraal pulse. And if that didn't work, the thousands of Makos translocating in front of the main weapon of the fake moon hopefully would.
Spacesuit Bitch stared for a moment through the structure of her fake moon, forward from her throne room. Just in time to be staggered by another sangraal pulse. Meanwhile, the Makos politely relayed the message that the top hundred kilometers of that portion of the fake moon should no longer exist, extending their domains to make it so.
"Begone, demons!" Spacesuit Bitch shouted, and her soul flexed, crushing all the Makos into a big ball, their domains crumpling. Then her focus wavered as yet another sangraal pulse washed over her from all directions.
"Stop it!" She screamed. "I am a god! I am the great Slyvine! I will not be brought low by such pathetic tricks!"
"You're so vain you think everything is about you, right?" Drei bit down on the urge to taunt, and instead sent "People like you deserve to die" with the next pulse.
Spacesuit Bitch screamed, then glared at the Makos still deleting the world's biggest graviton cannon. They crumpled, disintegrating into a sludge of wrecked and decaying extech.
The next wave of Makos was eight times the size, and wiped away the pile of sludge before attempting to pierce further into the fake moon. It was accompanied by another sangraal pulse.
"Cayde, Nagara, go." Drei ordered.
Two Scimitar mechas, an improved version of the Cutlass, teleported into a specific room aboard the fake moon. Blue bolts splashed across the mechas' shields, and Nagara darted forward, swinging around.
"Lift them!" Cayde ordered, then stepped forward, ignoring the incoming fire, and placed her right palm against a red armored plate. Her left arm cocked back, hand in a knife, and panels popped open, glowing gold. Her domain, looking like a hexagonal lattice, wrapped around her body. Nagara confirmed her reflex network was ready. A sangraal pulse washed against her soul, and then she struck. Armor was no impediment, and her strike carried through like it wasn't even there.
For a single instant, nothing happened. There was no explosion, no thundering blue blast.
This was despite the fact that Cayde had just broken the armor of a Progenitor Delta-type Stellar Siege Commander. Then Nagara's reflex network kicked in, and she translocated away, taking the SSC with her. Cayde's own translocation followed an instant later.
