Vanquisher: The Remnant

Chapter 8

"Sir, unauthorized sector entry off the starboard side. It's the defector."

Colmor took a deep breath, as if he was breathing in the information and letting his body process it. He could see from his peripherals the ship entering the sector, the small bubble of the ship breaking into regular space forming off in the distance.

"What do you want us to do, sir?" the deck officer asked politely. Colmor again did not speak. He was calculating, the gears in his head cranking away, attempting to churn out some ethical way of dealing with the scum that had deserted his beloved Remnant. His hands fell from their resting position from his back and he leaned forward, placing his hands on the edge of his holotable. He couldn't think of any way to eradicate these heretics without causing an uproar amongst all of the other pitiful factions. His deck officer still faced him, awaiting an answer that he needed immediately.

Colmor stood upright again and faced the deck officer, "Fire at them. Damage their ship. Disable their engines. I want them damaged but not destroyed. Gravity will do the rest for us."

"Right away, sir," the deck officer replied hastily, turning back to his computer. He punched in a set of orders that would be dispersed amongst the battle crew, which would then be executed swiftly and proficiently. Colmor watched as the heretics approached ever so slowly. A smirk glimpsed across his face, a small gesture of pleasure. It filled him with triumph knowing that those who opposed the Remnant would be dispatched within a moment's notice.

The first shots had been fired, the massive cannons of the Tempest rocking the ship as they discharged. The massive shells impacted the defective frigate with enough force to pierce the armor plating with ease. Other ships in the battle group joined in as well, unloading rounds at the unsuspecting ship. Once the frigate's engines had been dispelled, all fire upon the crippled had been ceased. The smoking carcass began slowly slipping into Oanus' atmosphere. Massive plumes billowed out into the vacuum of space as the ship finally began falling. Colmor strode over to the window, where he could see the frigate better, and he watched it burn through the atmosphere until it finally came to a disastrous rest on the surface.

Colmor turned to the nearest deck officer and requested they contact SIgma and invite him to the bridge. The deck officer tapped his computer screen a couple times and the request had been sent. Colmor waited for Sigma to arrive on the bridge, time coming to a crawl until finally Sigma came through the hissing doors to the bridge.

"You wanted to see me?" Sigma asked calmly.

"Yes. I'm assuming you remember that squad I had you assemble a few days ago?"

"Yes, sir. What about it?" Sigma requested.

"I need you to take them down to the surface and investigate the frigate we just shot down. I want you to report any survivors and don't shoot anyone unless I give you the green light, understood?"

"What if they shoot first?" Sigma asked hesitantly.

"You have the green light to shoot if you feel it is completely necessary," Colmor replied smoothly.

"Understood. I'll be down there by sundown," Sigma stated. Colmor nodded and awaited Sigma's salute. Sigma rendered his salute and upon return he dropped hit, pivoted on his heel, and departed the bridge. He stopped outside the door for a brief moment, attempting to pinpoint the location of his squad without having to scour the entire ship to find them. He assumed, based on what they normally did, that they would either be in the rec room or the mess hall, and considering it was nearly lunchtime he figured they'd be in the mess hall. He traversed his way through the seemingly endless blandness that accompanied every trip through the halls of the Tempest. If it hadn't been for his instinctual navigation of the ship he would have gone mad. He couldn't fathom learning the entirety of the ship's labyrinth of halls for another time. After a long and forgetful walk, Sigma finally arrived in the mess hall. To his relief, it appeared Argas and Raenim were eating together. Sigma strode over to the table they were consuming at and sat down. Argas looked up at Sigma with a bite of sandwich in his mouth. Raenim continued to eat without a passing glance.