A unfortunate Imperial transport ship had been incapacitated in the void. Drukhari corsairs had attacked the ship and then finally boarded it. The corridors of the Imperial transport rang with screams, gunfire, and the alarm blaring through the ship. Vyssira moved apart from the chaos, gliding down smoke-filled halls in search of the captain’s quarters or a locked vault. The deck shook from an explosion somewhere aft when a blur of motion came from around the corner a imperial trooper lunging at her with a power sword.

Her body twisted before thought, the weapon’s charged edge skimming close enough to make her hair stir. A flick of her wrist and her blade hooked his, wrenching it free. The heel of her boot slammed into his chest, sending him flying, hitting the floor with a grunt.

“Tsk Tsk. So close, little mon-keigh,” she said in high-gothic, voice almost playful as she kicked away the sword so he wouldn't try reaching for it.