sailed through the wreckage of Battle Group Six, Central Arm, as motes of debris vaporized against its shields and trumpet fanfares resounded through its halls.
The brassy clamor lowered enough for Durandal to say, "Another flawless victory, as planned and executed by me. Not that I'm bragging."
"Uh-huh." The security officer scrolled through another page on the tablet she'd picked up a couple of stops ago. Sure, at the moment all she could get on it were different translations of
, but it gave her something to do besides stare at the neon walls. Or repaint them.
"I decimated most of a battle group, and not in the less-impressive literal sense. Clearly you're just jealous that I didn't need you for any errands during this particular -"
blared over the trumpets.
"You were saying?"
"Fine, so some particularly enterprising squadron managed to teleport into the former Juggernaut hangar bays before I blew their ship to pieces. Shut up and get your armor on."
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