Together, they exited the transport, taking turns to descend the metal ramp. None of them, however, saw the sight of the attack, or the mining rig that had been hit.

Illura asked first. “Where is it?” She was looking at Vas, confident this was somehow his fault.

Vas shrugged and pointed to his left, down a narrower tunnel. “It's a few hundred yards down there. The transport can't fit.”

Illura grimaced and even Talian frowned, but it was true. The transport wouldn't fit. “Couldn't you have told us this?” Illura asked Vas again.

And again, he shrugged. “It's a newer tunnel ma'am- made after I stopped riding. The map I looked at didn't indicate the tunnel's size.” His tone was calm, but his heart pumped like a stampede. He remembered to breathe.

Thankfully, Talian didn’t seem to think too much of it. “It isn't too far, Illura, but you may stay behind if you wish.”

The advisor tilted her head in reflection. On one hand, she wanted to impress the Peacekeeper. On the other hand...

“I think I will stay back sir. I would hate to slow you down. I can answer any of your questions on the return trip.”

“Of course.” Talian replied with an overly kind smile. “I trust I will have many.” He winked at Vas, pleased with himself.

Vas forced a smile back, fighting down a sudden emptiness in his stomach. If Talian noticed something wrong, he didn't comment, instead turning to his guards. With a nod, they marched on ahead, black body armor fading in and out with the shadows as they stepped between lights. Creighton's men followed behind, with Vas and Talian in tow.

The next few minutes were quiet, calm from one perspective, ominous from another. Nobody said anything until they turned a corner to where the attack site was.

The corner revealed a large cavern, much more open than anything they had passed. It was much darker too. The lights they had been passing before were absent or broken here. The room was only dimly lit from the three tunnels that connected to it. The only light source in the room itself came from a collection of blinking lights in the middle of the space. It was the mining rig, a brutal, cubelike beast, built simply to lessen the risk of malfunction. Two large treads would normally propel it forward, and the enormous drill and shovels would carve dirt apart. However, the treads were ripped apart, and the square body was punctured at several different points, including a gaping hole in its right side from an explosion.

The party paused at the end of the tunnel, staying within range of the lights behind them. Talian's black clad guards were at the front, both on one knee. They looked at each other. “Night vision.” One said. It was the first time they had ever spoken in front of Vas. Simultaneously, their black visors turned red, and they rapidly scanned the room. “Clear from here sir.” The same one said.

Talian nodded and turned to Vas. “Why are the lights out?”

Vas frowned, feigning slight concern. “Probably sabotaged the lights prior to the attack. Would make sense.”

“I figured.” Talian said. He contemplated for a second, for the first time seeming to really hesitate, but he eventually gestured forward. The group marched, Vas hanging back further than he had before. This was it.

Once they'd made it fifty or so steps into the room, the attack began.

The “broken” lights turned on with a blinding flash, disorientating the whole party, but none more than Talian's personal guards, whose night vision couldn't adjust to the flash quick enough to save them from temporary blindness.

Then, from the mining rig, Tuk emerged, balding red hair clearly visible even at this distance. In his hands, he held a Plasma Cannon, one of many weapons Sri smuggled the 19s.

Vas watched this all happen from the back, now well behind Talian. He had a decision to make, and it all depended on one thing. His eyes followed the Peacekeeper. Talian was standing tall, gray robes rustling lightly, piercing black eyes staring through the glare and right at Tuk. He was raising his left hand, raising that horrible blackness.

In that instant, Vas realized a simple truth, one he'd expected, one he'd warned them about. The attack wasn't going to work. They were all going to die. It was time to save himself, to put his sad plan into motion.

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“Talian! Look out!” He yelled at the top of his lungs, screeching his treachery across the cavern. It was a momentous betrayal. Four years with the 19s, hundreds of hours of devoted service, years of true belief. All of it erased in a moment that didn't really matter. Talian had already seen it.

The Plasma cannon released a projectile of incredible potential energy right as Talian finished raising his hand. Squinting, Vas watched Talian, watched the gauntlet. Then, something strange burned into his vision for a mere second- a line that curved into a half circle before continuing straight. Within the half circle, a smaller sphere. It looked a little like an eye but missing its upper eyelid. "Gravity." Vas somehow knew.

The plasma projectile exploded from the cannon and launched towards the group- the guards, still dazed, Vas scrambling backward, and Talian with the Hand raised. Unfazed, the Peacekeeper simply pointed at the rapidly approaching plasma, and the strangest thing happened. It reached a point twenty or so yards out from his raised hand, and, instead of continuing on its normal path toward the group, it veered away, rotating around the point like a moon before shooting off harmlessly into one of the cavern's side walls.

Tuk swore, loud enough for even a retreating Vas to hear, and began aiming a second shot. It was too late. Talian stretched out his hand, palm flat and facing the ground. Then, with a violent twist, he flipped it so that the palm faced upward. Now on his ass, crawling backward, Vas watched in awe as the 100 ton rig crashed thirty yards towards the ceiling, like it had fallen up.

Talian wasn't done yet though. He closed his outstretched hand into a fist, and the rig, with Tuk and a few other fighters still inside, began to collapse in on itself, to a point somewhere inside. The crunch of metal almost hid the horrible screams as the enormous rig shrunk to a shape a tenth its original size.

Back now pressed against one of the cavern's walls, Vas watched as Talian let the rig fall. It hit the ground with a thud and rolled away, now spherical and almost smooth.

There were screams, maybe from him, but the attack didn't stop. Two of Creighton's men stumbled forward, still dazed and shocked. Talian saw the mine before they did. He couldn't save them, but he could save the rest. The explosion rang out with sudden force, sending the two men flying like dolls. It would have killed more, but it simply... died out, fell in on itself. Its propulsion was no longer strong enough to overcome whatever pulled it back.

There was no time to relax. From two adjoining tunnels at separate ends of the cavern, more of the 19s charged out, armed with beamers and antiquated railguns. They fired in a frenzy, desperate and angry. With a curse, the Peacekeeper, the Right Hand of the Gods, raised his palm. This time, Vas felt a tug as something started to drag him inwards and upwards. He clawed desperately at the ground and turned to watch the chaos.

All the projectiles were orbiting around a center point in the room, some already crashing inwards, creating a whirling spectacle of light and sound. Around the cavern everyone but the Peacekeeper and his guards were being sucked into the vortex, into certain death.

Perhaps hearing Vas' screams for help, Talian whipped his hand around and pressed down, sending Vas and the guards crashing downwards. Vas hit the ground with a painful thud, breath escaping with a gasp.

He pulled his head up in time to see the slaughter. Talian had flipped his hand upward again, releasing the 19s from their nightmarish orbit and into an upward freefall. Some were killed by the shots they had just fired, energy and metal falling onto the ceiling and through defenseless skin. Others were killed by Talian's guards, who had recovered and began firing with deadly precision.

A few of the 19s remained in the tunnels, out of the reach of that horrible something. Of those few, one or two risked useless shots, but the others fled, like mice. The Peacekeeper's guards turned their attention to them, gunning them down from behind. Talian noticed too, raising his hand and catching a few in a state of zero gravity. Floating helplessly, they were even easier pickings.

Just like that, in maybe a minute, it was over. Talian lowered the Hand of God and the bodies suspended on the ceiling crashed down, lifeless.

Still prone, Vas reached a dirty hand up to his face. He felt wetness. Fearing blood, he brought the hand to his eyes. The liquid was clear, not red.

He was panting, like a dog, scared he'd somehow forgotten how to breathe. “I told them.” He whispered to himself. “Wouldn't work. Too weak. Too strong.” Then, slowly, he raised his eyes again and saw it, that horrible blackness, that incredible power- The Hand of God on Talian's left hand. He remembered what he needed to do. He rose.

Talian was talking to his guards. “Should still be some survivors in the tunnels.” His voice was distant, faint. “Round them up.”

The Peacekeeper took a moment to appraise the carnage, something unreadable in his expression. He hunched over, exhausted, like he'd worked a full week's labor. Then, he did something surprising, something unexpected by all but one. He took off the gauntlet, removed the Hand of God. With it, the Peacekeeper's were more than human, part divinity. Without it...

Breathing deep, holding the gauntlet in his left hand, he turned to find his young companion. “Thanks for the warning Vas, but I had....”

He didn't finish the thought. When he saw Vas, he saw the boy wearing a protective mask and holding something strange in his right hand.

The 19s would not be the only ones Vas betrayed today.