((Sorry guys...I claim puppy responsibility. :p ))
Ossanlin looked up into the sky with a stalk-eye and saw a strange and heavily-damaged ship come out of z-space almost on top of them. A dangerous jump, someone was either very lucky or very skilled. From a look at the ship though it appeared the pilot might've taken a shot from the hip. All this passes through his mind as he dodges back from controller Asmodee, his decision a torn one. On the one hand he should simply get on the ship and join Myitt. On the other his sense of honor said he owed it to Asmodee to stay and fight, and free him of the slug.
He watches his ship float up off the ground again, the scratches barely showing on the reflective underside of the nose. <Alic, I know Alloran taught you to fly! Go to Myitt and help her...Seran will do everything in his power to destroy her. I have to help Asmodee, he's been infested. I need to get the slug out of his head. You can disengage the auto-pilot at any time simply by requesting it. The ship will revert to manual control.>
Ossanlin squares off against controller Asmodee again and presses the advantage as the controller has need to turn his head up to look at the new ship. He aims a slice at Asmodee's chest with his right katana, his tail-blade lashing forward at the controller's left shoulder. Both were meant as a distraction and possibly lucky hits if the controller kept looking at the sky instead of keeping his mind on battle. He immediately knew that if Asmodee had fought him under his own control, he would've been much more skilled. The true strike came from his left-hand katana, it was aimed at the muscle and tendons in his left arm that made the limb functional. Such damage could be repaired, but the Yeerk would be out of his head before that happened. The blow was disabling, but nonfatal and totally reparable if it landed...that was the key...
********************************
Seran:
An unblocked transmission makes its way through the relay station and plays automatically on Seran's viewscreen...the First of the Council. "Visser 8, your armada has been dispatched to the rebel base and will be arriving within thirty standard minutes. Visser 17 has been placed in command until your arrival, at which time you will assume command of the fleet. I don't suppose I must say this, but do make sure you wipe that rebel scum completely off the face of the Universe. You are to report to the following rendezvous point immediately." Coordinates streamed through the transmission.
"Sir, cannon fire!" The ship shuddered a bit as the shields fought back against the majority of the blow from Myitt's ship. A wash of hot radiation bathes the hull-plating. "Shields still at full power sir."
Seran's smile crosses the entirety of his face. "Very good, she is powerless. As much as I'd like to...."
The ship rocks again, the inertial dampeners making the movement very subtle. "Second ship, third and fourth ships firing from stern!" More hot radiation bathes the hull-plating, heating it excessively.
Seran's grin turns to a snarl. "You heard the Council, plot a course for that rendezvous point and jump immediately."
"Yes, sir!" The crew sets up a projected jump and arms the z-buffers again. "Processing jump sir, only a few more seconds..."
"Sir, rear hull-plating is starting to slag!"
"What?! Shield status you imbecile!"
"Shields are still at full power!"
"Jump immediately! NOW NOW NOW!"
The ship lurches, it's movement not quite as smooth as it could be, and shoots off into z-space, coordinates set for the rendezvous point.
"What in Gernack happened?! I want answers!"
"Sir, it appears that the osmotic shields let too much radiation through, it super-heated the hull-plating and it began to slag off. It has cooled now sir. I believe that most Andalite vessels use plating with a higher heat index and better heat dispersion properties. It appears that the technology is really only effective for Andalite craft."
Seran snarls audibly and the officer whom had given him the explanation shrunk away and turned back to his console. This would be difficult then...his regular shield array was still functional, but it couldn't stand up to nearly as much as those osmotic shields...he would have to figure something out...and quickly.
******************************
Visser 17
His Blade-Ship had been one of the first to arrive at the staging area...but most of the ships were there, in fact all were aside from that pompous ass that was supposed to be their leader. Visser 8 was late. Well, he wouldn't wait and rest on his laurels. He was in command until that idiot arrived, so he would make the most of it.
"Put out a transmission to all Empire vessels, command frequency." The comms officer motioned that he had done so and Visser 17 began to speak. "As you all know the rebels are here. Our esteemed leader Visser 8 has apparently decided not to join us. As commander of this fleet, I order all ships to move on the coordinates that were supplied to us. Let us wipe this rebel filth from this backwater corner of the Universe!"
To start the rest of the ships moving, Visser 17 starts his own Blade Ship moving in the correct direction...a Class 3 planet that was no more than fifteen standard minutes from this location by normal space-flight. "Glory to the Empire!!!"
