-PRAISE BE TO SPACE KING- The monitor in the ship displayed the words in bold, white letters as the High Command from Captain's radio kept hammering on about when they would get the artifact. Chestnut was fiddling with his fingers as the ship jolted and juttled slightly from its trip to the other planet. Hatemonger was huffing heavily with his weapon in his hands, his eye twitching under his helmet, and Bryce was messing with a language translator he made in which he knew Captain probably wouldn't use. The Space Defenders, that's what they were. Starzing weapons in each of their grips hummed quietly, buzzing like a sixth sense.