Sword of the Orange Dream

[Sciamach]

Inquisition Command Vessel, MNS Mgarr, hangar deck A
Airspace above Ghawdex Mountains, Malta, Planet Malta
12/10/822 AS

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A shimmering green light began to shine over the horizon. Alpha, sun of the Maltese Homeworld peaked through the mountains to the east, radiating warmth to everything beneath it as a subtle breeze brushed through the Maltese countryside. The sky was for the most part clear, a few orange tinted clouds, made all the more colorful by the sunrise, drifted lazily over the peaks and valleys of the rocky terrain below.

And from the clouds, came a shape, small at first but rapidly growing-- but not even growing; multiplying.

Tactical Command Destroyer Mgarr descended into the world, flanked nearby by a number of Tridente Escorts, all adorned in white and red and with their forward hulls still glowing from the heat of re-entry. The ships fell rapidly-- almost too rapidly towards the peaks below-- eventually righting themselves just a couple of kilometers above the nearest rocky spire, flaring engines accelerating the flotilla rapidly north.

The blazing sun illuminated the side of the Mgarr's hull as it's side began to part; the east-facing hangar flooding with the green hue of the Maltese star. Just within the holographic shield around the hangar entrance, a pair of figures stood, watching the dazzling display of clashing colors before them as the Destroyer raced through the skies.

Espinosa paced quietly back and forth along the length of the hangar door, the sound of her boots clanging on the flight deck overshadowed by the voice of a second figure-- a young girl still in her teens standing off to the side was reading aloud some of the Crusade's initiation rites as Erika patiently listened. The Inquisitor paused in her pacing and spun on her heel, walking back to the girl and taking the datapad from her hand. She looked it over, her eyes darting from place to place on the screen before she handed it back, whereupon the child started again in a low tone.

"E dalle ceneri di un ordine di caduta , una nuova luce rifulse . I veri araldi della Luce nudo l'onere di damnation-- dell'umanità per caso di mancato , l'umanità cesserà.-- Better that time?" The young one asked.

The Inquisitor pondered for a moment, staring off in the direction of the sunrise for a moment before turning back.

Slightly-- you didn't stutter this time but you need to speak louder. I'm standing 10 meters away from you in a dead-silent shielded hangar and I can barely hear you. Try it ag--

Her order was cut short as her gauntlet chirped to life-- a light indicator on the back of her hand flashing. Espinosa brought her wrist up level with her shoulders, tapping away at a few of the buttons before speaking again.

" Inquisitor to bridge, whats our status?"

Static for a moment.

" We've leveled out, all Escorts have assumed formation and we're about twenty minutes out from Tarxien. We've already laid out a course and flashed IFF; they know we're coming. "

"And the Nergal?"

" It's just like they said m'am. Sitting 4.3 kilometers outside of the Vale. Ambassador 2 is prepped and ready for launch, you and Inquisitor Mendes are cleared for launch at your convenience. "

"Good. Lock down at the spaceport and get in touch with operations Chief Victoria and get my ship scrubbed and ready to fly again. We'll be back before too long."
Espinosa closed the channel, keeping her arm raised but looking over to the child.

"Head on back to your quarters, we're only going to be planetside for a few hours so if you need anything from the loft, grab it when the ship touches down."

The girl made a mocking salute with a smirk and spun around, racing towards the door that led to the crew quarters. The Inquisitor rolled her eyes and typed in a quick name on the holographic display before her.

"Mendes, we're waiting on you down in hangar bay A. Let's get a move on."

She paused, awaiting a response, observing the Dromedary at the rear of the hangar as it's lights began to flicker on, the pilot giving a thumbs-up through the viewport. A number of her personal guard began to file in the hangar's back hatch, heading for the shuttle and boarding as she awaited a response from her fellow Inquisitor.

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[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/

A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.