The glow in the war room began to fade as the lighting stabilized, and Artemas's projection resolved above the table. Its once-hazy silhouette had taken on a clean, defined form — lines of blue light flowing across its artificial body like current through veins, its eyes opening slowly and glowing a bright, steady blue. Johan stood staring at it, as speechless as his generals. He had never seen Artemas like this, not once in all the years he'd held its leash in secret. Now that he was witnessing it, the confidence he'd placed in the machine began to waver — the presence in front of him bore almost no resemblance to the old Artemas he remembered, and for the first time he wondered exactly what he'd just let out.
Artemas turned its gaze toward him. "With your permission, Emperor, I can begin the second contingency plan."
Johan held its stare for a moment. "Go ahead." His voice lacked the certainty it had carried earlier, but he wasn't about to cower in front of his generals — not after the decision he'd just made to break Artemas's seal.
Back in orbit, Hyperion and Theia were holding their own against the reinforced Terrian fleet. Tarstenia sat ringed by enemy orbitons and warships, never once ceasing fire, and despite being badly outnumbered, the two Fallen Units still held the advantage — their attacks destroying entire squads of ships and orbitons with every strike.
Aboard the Tarstenia, Patricia stood watching it unfold, one leg crossed over the other, her hand propping up her head against the console. She glanced over at her guests. "This is closer to a slaughter than a fight."
Leon smirked and rose to his feet, taking a few steps forward. "I'm itching to get out there. Just hope they leave something for me."
"Hold your horses, young man," said old man Silver, seated nearby. "Your time hasn't come yet. And trust me — there'll be plenty left for you to feed on when it does."
Leon turned to him. "Hey, old man—"
A massive explosion tore through the Tarstenia's hull before he could finish, shaking the entire ship hard enough to throw everyone to the floor.
"What just happened?" Patricia shouted at her crew.
"We've been hit, Captain!" an operator called back. "Heavy damage to the hull — we were struck by an unidentified object!"
A second explosion rocked the ship before she could answer. Patricia scrambled to the radar and saw a third hit had already torn into the left engine. "What the hell is hitting us?"
"It's the catacombs!" another operator shouted.
"That's impossible. We're not even in range!"
Leon grinned from where he stood, braced against a bulkhead. "Guess our time's up. About time I got some fun in, too."
"Shields to maximum," Patricia ordered. "Aim every cannon at the nodes — we need to soften those shots before they land. We won't survive another one at this rate."
"I might have a better idea," Silver said.
"Go on, old man."
"Let's take a page out of our friends' book." He nodded toward the debris field outside the viewport. "Use the wreckage as cover. It won't take long for our part of the job to finish anyway."
Patricia gave him a sharp, appreciative smile. "You really are a sly old fox." She turned to her operator. "Open a line to the Progressive Union units. I think I've got something even better."
"Connection established, Captain. Hyperion and Theia are on the line."
"What do you want?" a voice snapped from the other end.
"We're in a bit of a pickle here," Patricia said. "The catacombs are targeting us, and I don't think we can survive another hit."
"And that's supposed to be my problem?"
"I don't think you appreciate the gravity of the situation. Without this ship, your entire plan collapses, so be a good boy and listen. I need you to pull as many enemy ships toward us as you can. We'll use them as cover until the mission's over. I trust you and your partner understand." She'd raised her voice by the end of it.
"Did you just fucking raise your voice at me?"
In an instant, Hyperion materialized directly in front of the Tarstenia, its blazing trident still gripped in one hand. "Listen to me, you fucking bitch. I don't take orders from anyone but the Chairman. If you don't want your ship split clean in half, you'll leave me the fuck alone."
"Relax, man," came another voice — Theia's pilot, easier, almost amused. "They're not our enemy. Not yet, anyway. Patricia, right? I'll handle the ships and the nodes. You don't need to worry — just sit tight and play the decoy. When it's over, you can head home, and you can take all the credit you want. We're not here to make a name for ourselves."
Patricia stood motionless, her eye twitching with barely contained fury. "Close the comms." She turned toward the door. "Prepare Iapetus. I'm going to tear those bastards to shreds."
Orbit was swallowed in explosions as orbitons and ships went up in flames side by side. The nodes kept hammering the Tarstenia — but their fire had begun to turn toward the other two orbitons as well, streams of laser fire chasing Hyperion and Theia alike, painting the void in orange light. The shift opened a window for the Terrian fleet to pin the Tarstenia and its two guardians in a pincer. For all the raw power the two Fallen Units commanded, they couldn't fight and protect the Tarstenia at the same time — especially now, with the catacombs concentrating their fire.
But before the situation could grow any more dire, the Tarstenia's hull split open once again, vents of smoke and fire still pouring from the wounds already carved into its flank, and two more orbitons launched from inside, leaving trails of dark red and neon green streaking behind them across the burning dark, bright enough to cut through even the haze of the battlefield.
Iapetus and Tethys had finally been deployed.