Westheid had misjudged Mivana. The Imperial Capital's spaceport, with its peculiar layout and structure, was inherently disorienting. Anyone unfamiliar with it would definitely get turned around on their first visit.
Although, it was true that Mivana was a bit of an airhead.
"Let's board. Your timing is perfect."
After inviting Mivana aboard the floating battleship, the Recovery Fleet Westheid had assembled was officially on its way.
They weren't aboard a Blazing Flame-class Floating Battleship. Every inch of those war machines was dedicated to destruction and slaughter. That model didn't even bother with heavy armor; its defense relied entirely on shields. All other space was allocated to its power supply or munitions. In short, it was the epitome of a glass cannon.
