+++THIS IS CONVOY LEADER JADE PETAL, TO ANY SHIPS IN RANGE! WE REQUIRE IMMEDIATE ASSISTANCE! SOME...SOME TITANIC DAEMON SHIP JUST BROKE INTO REALSPACE! I REPEAT-+++
The message blared through her mind, her implants parsing and relaying the information within the moment it took for the signals to reach her craft. Convoy 726. Made up of Light Armed Candlelight Transports, mostly utilized in Outer System Trade Routes due to being armed with a Light Macro-Cannon Turret and Ultra-Light Missile Batteries against would-be pirates and malcontents. The current one was transporting...children. Families. Last-minute evacuees that had been missed due to one reason or another. No matter, the Daemon was on a course to them.
Her implants also, imperiously, provided the dimensions of the Warp Titan that had erupted from the Warp, its ever-changing shifting mass displayed through thrice-blesses pentahexic cleansing protocols, a precaution she had installed at great personal cost against the coming storm. The Blessed Mathematics of the Star-Mechanicum had no place in those less augmented than their members, but money had a way of ensuring it could be fitted into bodies less suited for the task.
It also meant that she was the only mortal present that stood a chance to parse the data her augurs displayed beyond a mere blob of hostile mass.
"This is Thule-6969 HRMHVR; Authorization N'Nomitron Besh-Huk-Fault-Teradon-Jenus-Hamulustiar-Orgnazus. Initiate Override Theta-Fractal Numas," she carefully enunciated, and, one by one, the restrictions and limiters of her implants unshackled themselves, her perception slowing and accelerating. She cared not for the protests of her current Co-Pilot, Imeria, she recalled, nor her attempts to override her authorization using her own. It's too bad that a trainer's authority was far below that of a N'Nomitron squad leader. "To the cadets," she broadcasted into their minds, her own unshackled implants shutting down any other communication from and to their Noosphere implants that connected them to their craft and sister-siblings. "I am escalating this training mission to a combat one; refusal to adhere to orders is hereby equivalent to treason and will be met with punishments from military imprisonment to summary execution. Fall into formation 39-Vega disseminated now."
There would be guilt later. Much of it. But not now. There were lives on the line, and she would spend every single life under her command, including herself, to safeguard the convoy.
This was not a conscious decision on her part.
But the result of decades of service, decades of training, decades of living as a Thule.
Because, despite everything, she was, in the end, a weapon born, schooled, trained, and elevated to be wielded against the enemies of the Glimmering Federation and its peoples.
"Brother Fren, I am requesting your help in combating the enemy force now designated as 'Warp Titan Alpha' in whatever capacity you can," she spoke, the connections to her cadre of cadets flowing data back and forth, their ships aligning themselves according to her will and direction. One was on the verge of panic, but her attention and forced injection of one of the calming drugs into Thule-Grantia//:Aultus-c's system settled her within seconds. More guilt to stab her later. And an official Investigation to explain her decision, but that would only happen if she came out alive.
"For those we Cherish, We die in Glory," was his reply. 'Truer words were never spoken,' 69 thought as she began to accelerate. "Weapons free, fire at my command, targets according to my calculations. Trust your machines and follow my charge," she intoned, her fighter at the head of the formation. If she were to lead a bunch of cadets to their deaths, she would not be accused of cowardice later on by sitting back.
"May it end in our hangars," the cadets faithfully replied, even though theirs had already been destroyed.
The Charge:
(6-Hour Moratorium)
[] (Write 8 Names. Write 8 Regrets. Write 8 raging cries against the coming of the night.)