You can run, but you cannot hide.

[Seth Karlo]

Serena Kithe was a beautiful woman. She was powerful, though easily swayed, and quick to anger. Slightly deranged, the woman was the first to convince Salazar to stop cannibalism.

Salazar had killed her slowly. Something had awoken within him, a beast that had slumbered for too long. Serena was worse than a spy, she was a virus upon him, a pacifier to the weapon. She had tamed the predator, she had domesticated the hunter.

So she had to die. He hadn't enjoyed it, even shedding tears as he killed the woman he loved. But she had smiled. Finally at peace, away from his insane fantasies, his deluded actions.

Perhaps she had been a spy, a woman like no other, sent by his enemies to control him. Nevertheless, she was gone now. He had more important issues than her to think about.

Gallia.

Their fleet was gathering, amassing in the Taus. Soon, like a hurricane, they would sweep through anything in their path, pillaging and burning as they went. Like a tsunami they would brush aside any resistance and replace it with their own power.

Salazar had plenty of experience dealing with an enemy far more powerful, far more deadly than his own force. And yet, he had lied in his transmission to the King of Gallia. Vengeance was the most powerful force in this universe. That which has the power to incur it's wrath is limited. Love, loss, hatred. All create vengeance. And yet, important to note is the difference between jealousy and vengeance. Jealousy is the desire to be someone, to have their power. Vengeance is the desire to kill them, destroy them, for what they did to them.

Sometimes, people got those two confused.

The new Immortal Hunter had a skeleton crew, an equal mix of women and men. They were the last of his original crew, and he had dabbled in some genetic modification, decreasing sleep requirements, increasing attention span, the like. Some had succeeded, others had... failed... Out of his original crew of almost a thousand, he had 41 survivors. Some were disfigured, some almost as insane as he. Still, they had served a purpose, and he now was starting to put together a perfect method to create the perfect crew man.

He liked his new ship though. The old one was big, bulky, heavy. This new one was a reminder of the old days, the lithe, the sleek. It reminded him of his beloved Vengeance, the ship he once used to strike at the Coalition. He would act in a similar way now. Guerrilla tactics, disrupting supplies, damaging morale, destroying hope. The power of an invasion force relies on pushing the army of the defenders back, keeping an impenetrable wall between them and your civilians.

Salazar was a one ship army, and he would attack these people hard. And they would not be able to stop him.

He had fought for their ancestors too, pushing back coalition dreadnoughts so vast you could not see the far side of them, a lone battlecruiser, rolling across the plain of metal and weapons, loosing concussion mines and firing every turret at that beast of destruction. A suicide mission they survived time and time again.

But others had died. So many had died to save those people. And now, they dared to attack the descendants of those brave people who had defended them? They dared to see themselves as better, stronger.

They would be proven wrong.

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Signature by Sleipnir.