Much of the Command Deck has been cut off from the rest of the ship. The case was the same for most of Deck C, which was both the storage, as well as loading and unloading areas of the ship.

Within the southern hemisphere Docking Area of Deck C, were wide and massive, few dozen meter tall doors through which cargo could be sent. One of these doors had a massive 3C painted onto it, and this was where nine men in only their underwear could be found preparing.

Opposite to the massive doors, was an imposing wall of shipping containers, with people manning said walls - the ones who didn't see into light, and even more people beyond it - the lucky few who managed to get here despite all the odds and told them of the disaster outside.

"Make sure you're properly coated. Don't forget underneathe. Unless you want it to fall off."

Hiiro joked and the others laughed, before he sprayed a generous amount of what looked to be clear paint over his body, face and hair, followed by his suit, shoes and even his socks. Last to be coated was a piece of cloth he'd use as a mask. Then, he applied a second coat on himself.

Soon enough, every inch of his rounded yet visibly muscular body had a strange sheen to it. It was a physique that focused on strength rather than style. But admittedly, also a physique that displayed his gourmand lifestyle. Since, out of all the men here, he was the only one without visible abs. Though he was the tallest.

These men being in full display while dressing themselves, would've been problematic for those from Federation and Union. Indecency, and such.

But in the Empire, it was a cultural norm for body to be proudly displayed, so long as the privates were hidden. Since the only reasons to hide oneself are imperfection and complacency. Neither could be allowed in their society.

Hence, there was a strong sense of self-pride even within the lowest of their society.

"Remember, its effect worsens the sweatier you are. So reapply when you need to. The last thing we need is you succumbing to the radiation, so double the coat on your exposed flesh."

He uttered words to which any normal person would immediately recoil and question. However, the Count's troops viewed it as a welcome reminder.

No longer were their weapons meant to just intimidate. They had to actually use them now. And that required every preparation.

"Our friends outside have done us a favor and funneled much of the enemy towards us. I don't know how, but I'm certain it isn't pretty. So castle formation. Five of us will be in the outer ring, with me at the front. The remaining four will be our towers."

The men all nodded and quickly moved into place. Not a single one opened their mouth but there was no hiding the confident grins on their faces.

"Set your muzzles to maximum spread. No need to be stingy. We have more than enough drums to go around. Now, swallow your pills... and activate your plasma condensers in three… two… one."

Unsettling hums erupted from all their weapons as electricity crackled inside the glass containers. The liquid had begun to solidify and glowed even brighter than before.

Only seconds later, any other light around them was completely drowned out.

"Our orders are to tear right through the enemy until we reach our weapons shipment in the north. Then we hold it until the others arrive. Once relieved, we each take a combat suit and head straight for Deck B's main square."

"So we're rescuing survivors, Colonel?"

"Not just any survivors, Lieutenant Kim. The Countess and one other VIP. Of course, any other survivors we encounter, will be under our protection, as well."

"Including Federation?"

"All survivors, Lieutenant. We'll hear the announcement soon enough. That will be our signal. Now, ready!"

But, even though he commanded such from his men, Hiiro himself was unsure of this plan.

*** *** ***

"You want us to guard the shipment?!" He roared in disbelief.

No longer were they in the stuffy Captain's quarters. Instead, they stood within an otherwise empty clearing. Overhead, were a dozen shipping containers being transported by claws, then stacked into 3 layer walls.

This was the main cargo hold of the southern hemisphere docks. Most entrances, especially those that were hermetically sealed, were further blocked and welded shut. The rest were funneled towards the main hold.

All so that they can concentrate on one area.

"What if we turn and melt it all?! We cannot be trusted, brother!"

"No one else can lead the men to face this enemy and be victorious. At least success is possible with you as the spearhead."

Was it faith or something else entirely? The Count had regained his aloof composure, and that also granted Hiiro confidence in his own success. But he couldn't help believing that it was misplaced.

However, when compared to his primary task, this one somehow felt much less important. Perhaps that was part of the reason why.

[Attention all passengers. I, the Count of Dahl, speak to you as Serenity's new Commander. All combatants are hereby placed under my control, and your orders are to evacuate all survivors quickly -but carefully to the southern hemisphere of Deck C. The digital boards will guide you along the proper path. Non-Imperials need not worry. Many ships have been prepared. There are more than enough seats for all.]

[May the stars shine gently upon us, as we move together.]

"Spoken like a Federal Politician." Hiiro muttered, to which the men chuckled. For they knew that neither the Count, nor those listening believed in the sappy implication behind his warm words.

Nevermind the Count's two-facedness that Hiiro and now many others, were closely familiar with. But even so, the people would cling onto it and the glory he'd gain would make him a hero of all three superpowers.

'It's a good thing. He deserves the hassle anyway.' Hiiro thought to himself.

Several seconds after the message ended, the massive doors slowly slid to either side with a dull screech.

For a moment they had no idea what it was. But soon their forms were unmistakable.

Insects.

Hundreds were piled onto and climbing on top of each other, as if racing. Many crawled up the hull and the doors which had stopped opening. Some flew in. But most came in as a tsunami headed straight towards Hiiro and the others.

No.

Calling these things giant insects wasn't enough. These were dog-sized monstrosities with flattened oval bodies, long threadlike antennae, covered in glistening black and dark brown leathery integument.

Their heads were bent down, and their mandibles pointed backwards. Then, of their six long, spiny legs, the first pair was much thicker and tapered into the shape of a blade. On top of that, these things had a noticeably thick carapace.

And they brought with them a disgusting, gut-wrenching stench that stunned everyone despite their masks, and the silver-based spray's artificial scent.

That stench was most likely what lured these things here. But what could have produced such a thing?

By the time he mentally asked himself this question, one of the things had leapt towards him, with its loud beating wings behind it. Many more had taken flight, and there was also the deafening noises their legs kept making.

He caught a good look of the creature's disgusting underside, as its legs prepared to grab him. The twitching, the long spiny hairs, the grimy crevices.

Closer and closer, it flew. Until it was just two feet away.

"FIRE!"

With a crackle and a splatter, the creature, and everything else around them, was torn apart by the first plasma volley.

The condensed radioactive waste mixture had been heated to around 600 degrees Celsius and it ate through anything it touched for a period of several seconds.

Then it left an extremely lethal radioactive zone that remained so for at least an hour or more.

Those on the outer ring with Hiiro, ensured that the bulk of the horde couldn't get past them, while the remaining four towers picked off those that flew. Leaving only a few dozen for those on the container walls to clean up with conventional or plasma-based firearms.

However, maximum spread meant that they only had half of the already miniscule 30 meter maximum range. And the weapons also had a long two second recharge time. Reloading after every sixth shot took twice as long, given how bulky each canister was.

Nevertheless, in this space with only one entrance, against an enemy without ranged attacks.

They were unstoppable.

They bathed in the radioactive splashes of insect fluids and disgusting pheromones, but they just wiped their faces and charged a second volley.

Then a third.

Then a fourth.

The longer they kept fighting, the more insects managed to get past them. But those manning the walls and guarding the entrance were also soldiers like them. Prime elites who served the Count.

Dozens of insects coming in at once, became hundreds.

But the recharge time proved to be more detrimental than they thought. Some of the insects managed to get too close and sliced at their legs, stomachs and arms.

Their specialized outfits kept them from being maimed but they were instead getting fractured and bruised, every hit also peeled off parts of the coating.

It wasn't like they could stop breathing either. No pill would stop the radioactive particles from building up in their lungs, no matter how augmented they were.

They had to finish this quickly.

Then, just as they readied a seventh volley, an insect managed to get lucky and sliced at one of the men's exposed ankles - cutting off his left foot before someone else managed to shoot it.

He screamed as he was forced to stand on his stump. But the symptoms of radiation poisoning were immediate. His hair and large pieces of skin peeled off to expose the necrotized muscle underneath.

Then his wailing ended just as he started swinging his limbs erratically.

With not even a cry, or a passing glance from his companions, he fell face first into a shallow pool of insect fluids and glowing waste.

However, he was still breathing. His beady eyes were searching and his lips kept trying to form words.

It was only due to the leftover coating that he didn't immediately melt. But if left there for long, he would.

However, the man that stood next to him, only grabbed the spare canisters off his belt.

For they could not stop to help him. Even if they did, there was nothing that they could do.

This was Guila's magnum opus.

One that she dared to patent as mining equipment to get around Imperial law.

A cruel curse of irreparable morbidity upon those affected, keeping them alive for the longest period possible.

Cruelty wasn't even the proper word for it. Savagery, barbarity, callousness; it was a weapon so infused with sadism that one could only wonder what sort of hatred she held for her homeland to let it be used upon them.

However, there was no questioning its efficacy.

It was thanks to this weapon, that the Empire no longer employed costly planetary sieges and massive ship battles during the final years of the war. Instead, small boarding parties and ground forces were utilized.

This new tactic was what granted the Count victory after victory, with minimal losses for both sides.

But the Empire could not condemn their soldiers nor their war hero, no matter how dishonorable they thought it was. So they laid it squarely on its creator, an outsider, a traitor.

"Their pace is slowing! AIM FORWARD AND FIRE IN SEQUENCE!"

When the remaining eight soldiers charged the horde and made their way through the half-melted door, they left behind a sickening scene of radioactive waste, hills of scattered insect corpses and a distinct, vomit-inducing smell in their wake.

The only good part is that the green glow was deliberately engineered to serve as a warning and a marker.

Even though the stench of melted flesh and the solitary, woeful throes of their comrade who had been left behind, was more than enough to dissuade anybody from getting closer.