Quoted By:
“Twenty minutes. That was the window of time afforded to our enemy. Here, a mere horizon length away from the station, our heat-fuzzed sensors could finally make out the composition of its defenders. Several dozen cruisers and destroyers patrolled the area above the station, wandering in tight circles with their sensors peering at the distant stars.
Even at that distance, they exhibited signs of radiation-weathering. None of the Mizarian ships had been designed to operate close to the harsh, inhospitable environment of their parent star. None save for one possible exception.
I remembered the battle we had observed months ago – the clash between a fully-equipped Mizarian fleet and the dying remnants of a modest hunter. I remembered the sensor readings we had taken of that behemoth – the intimidating mass signature and the peculiar, flare-white coloration. White for visibility. White for heat-reflection.
My blood ran cold.
Five minutes from our engagement envelope range, an optical signature separated from the launch station's reflected light. Attitude control engines fired with frantic succession, swinging around a massive, arrowhead prow that lagged just behind the RAIN’s position.
The last remaining supercapital of the Mizarian warfleet burned cyan, surging forward to silhouette itself against the horizon. Unprepared and off-guard it may be, it would still fight to condemn us for all that we have done to its species – and all which have yet to do."
- [UNSIGNED], EXECUTIVE AUDITOR, TRS NOVEMBER RAIN, AD. 2242, SEPTEMBER 10th, PERSONAL JOURNAL
