- An -

  "All units, begin evasive maneuvers!" The urgent and bred over the open el, snapping An's attention back to the present.

  Instinct took over. An's fingers flew across the trols as he ehe teral thrusters, yanking the Graviton Prime into a sharp roll just as a group of missiles passed them. The proximity arm screamed, but they'd narrowly avoided destru by mere meters. His heart pounded in his chest.

  Not everyone was as fortunate.

  A blinding explosioed behind them. An caught a glimpse on the rear monitor—a fellow Mecha ed in a fireball, torn apart into a thousand pieces. A haunting, guttural scream echoed through the s, cut brutally short. The li silent. An's stomach lurched, but there was no time to process the loss.

  They had arrived at Olympus, their intended destination, but any hope of a straightforward nding evaporated. The Orks had anticipated their arrival, ying a deadly ambush. An armada of hundreds of Ork warships awaited them in orbit around the p, bristling with ons and ready to unleash havoc.

  "Alert. This is Graviton Prime," Hank broadcasted over the chaotic frequencies. "We have pleted teleportation but are met with an Ork armada. Be advised, they are initiating an orbital assault."

  He repeated the message, ensuring both the ining Mechas and and were aware of the dire situation.

  "An," Hank's voice came through with steady urgency. "I'm taking over navigation. Keep an eye on our energy levels and mahe sedary ons."

  "Uood," An replied, his voice tight but trolled.

  He shifted his focus, flipping a series of switches that rerouted his trol inputs. The dispy panels before him refigured, highlightior output, on status, and targeting systems. His primary responsibility was now the twin ounted on Graviton Prime's shoulders and maintaining the readiness of the primary on.

  Hank's piloting was nothing short of masterful. While An was petent, Hank moved the Graviton Prime with an almost uny fluidity. To him, the Mecha wasn't just a mae—it was aension of his body. Each thrust of the jets, every precise maneuver, seemed effortless. The Graviton Prime dahrough the void, its movements so erratid swift that the targeting systems of the Ork ships struggled to keep a lock.

  An found himself gripping the armrests as Hank executed plex maneuvers—sharp accelerations, sudden decelerations, corkscrew rolls. The G-forces strained against An's body, even through the dampeners. It was disorienting, but it also made them a nearly impossible target.

  Ork fighter ships swarmed around them like a pgue of metallic locusts. Their guttural alien chatter overpped on the unsecured els, a cacophony of chaos. They fired relentlessly, crimson bolts of energy streaking across the darkness.

  "Stay focused, everyohese are just the attack ships—cruisers are still ahead. Keep an eye on their fire!" Hank's voice crackled over the s, steady but urgent, as the chaotic ballet of battle unfolded around them.

  For An, the work remained as intense as ever, though his role was slightly less plex than Hank's. His fingers danced over the trols, targeting and firing the shoulder-mounted ons. Each pull of the trigger sent a hail of psma searing through the space, aiming to reduce the swarming Ork fighters to dust.

  "What's our status on energy and ammunition?" Hank inquired, his eyes never leaving the swarm of enemy ships swirling on the holographic dispy.

  "Energy at 90%. We're still in good shape," An replied, gng at the fluctuating power levels on his sole.

  "Good, but we o serve it for the Titans—not waste it on these small fries," Hank reminded, a hint of caution in his tone.

  "Just a bit longer. Once we break through the cruiser line, we'll have a straight shot to Olympus," another pilot's strained but determined voice cut ihe s.

  "Crush the Ork scum!" someone else shouted, the ferocity in their voice eg the collective se.

  But amidst the din of battle, a new arose.

  "Something's nht. Look at the energy readings ing from the far side of the fleet," a pilot warned.

  An's brow furrowed. He swiftly adjusted his ser settings, redireg the sensors to analyze the specified quadrant. The data streamed in—unusual energy signatures fred on the dispy. It wasn't Ork teology. These were human maes, powered by Z Crystals, just like their own Mechas.

  "Do we have allies fnking them?" An wondered aloud, opening the el. "and, are there friendly units behind the Ork fleet?"

  No immediate response came, but the answer sooed itself. Emerging from the shadow of the Ork armada, a formation of Mechas advanced swiftly, cutting through the bess of space like silent predators. Leading them was a Mecha unlike any other—a sleek, obsidian frame that seemed to absorb the surrounding light, save for a single emblem embzoned on its arm: a crimson star.

  "What the—? Is that the Dark Star?" a pilot gasped over the s. "Did House Lot send their top Mecha to support us?"

  "How did they get behind the Orks?" another voice questioned, disbelief mingling with awe.

  Specution buzzed across the els, but there was little time to pohe pilots were still neck-deep in battle, each sed demanding their full attention as they faced down waves of enemy fighters.

  "Eyes on your targets!" Hank barked, bringing the focus back. "The cavalry's arrival doesn't ge our missioill have hundreds of ships to deal with."

  "Something's nht. The Dark Star isn't engaging," An remarked to Hank, breaking the tense silehat had settled between them.

  Hank, focused ily on navigating the Graviton Prime through the chaotic battlefield, spared a quice at the monitor. "What do you mean?" he asked, edging into his voice.

  "Look at the telemetry," An tinued. "I'm watg it oernal cameras. The Dark Star isn't fighting the Orks. It's just moving—directly toward us."

  Hank frowapping a few trols t up the feed. "That's odd. Why would House Lot's fgship Mecha hold baow?"

  An zoomed in on the enigmatic Mecha. The Dark Star's sleek, obsidian frame cut through the star-strewn darkness, its only marking a crimson star embzoned on one arm. As he watched, a tiny spark ig the ter of its chest, growing brighter by the sed.

  "Wait, something's happening," An said, his eyes widening.

  The spark blossomed into a brilliant fre before abruptly colpsing into an abyss of shadow. Darkness spilled out from the Dark Star, an inky void that seemed to swallow the very light of space. It expanded rapidly, an all-ing shroud engulfing nearby Mechas—ally and enemy alike.

  "By the stars..." Hank whispered.

  Explosioed as the shadow ed dozens of Mechas, fres of fire snuffed out moments ter by the encroag darkness. Pilots' screams echoed over the s, cut short with chilling finality. Panic rippled through the fleet.

  "Hank! The Dark Star is attag our Mechas!" An shouted, his voice sharp with urgency. He flipped a switch, broadcasting over the open el. "All units, this is Graviton Prime! The Dark Star is hostile—repeat, hostile! They're attag our forces!"

  Desperate voices flooded the s:

  "Mayday! We're utack!"

  "What's going on?"

  "Get out of there!"

  Amidst the chaos, a stern annou cut through, authoritative and clear. "This is tral and. All pilots, be advised: By decree of the Emperreat House Lot is hereby decred traitors to humanity. They are to be sidered enemy batants. Urgent message—firm receipt."

  "Copy that," came the shaken aowledgments from scattered pilots, disbelief evident iones.

  "All Mechas, disengage and distance yourselves from the Dark Star. The Emperor is deploying the Imperial Guard," tral and tinued.

  "The Imperial Guard?" An echoed, swallowing hard.

  Hank's expression hardened, his eyes never leaving the dispys. "Kid, keep your eyes on the visuals. If the Imperial Guard is stepping in, we're about to witness something that will go down in history."

  As soon as Hank finished speaking, An watched as the teleportation ptform activated once again.

  As per tral and's orders, the Mechas began to fly away from the Dark Star. Meanwhile, three mechas desded from the teleportation ptform. At first ghey didn’t seem much different from the others, except their mechas radiated a deep purple glow.

  “Holy fuck. They sent the Dogs of War.” An heard another pilot swear.

  GCLopes