UEG Colony World Stanza, Caeli Star System
Vaskran Outpost, White Forest
March 6, 2845
0820 Hours

The battle was over before it began. The Colorado-class heavy frigate UEGNC Interloper had jumped in-system and managed to avoid the few Vaskran patrol ships here and there, and launched several DTT-143 Vulture dropships which quickly slipped into the atmosphere of the heavily-forested temperate planet a few thousand lightyears away from Earth.

The ships had silently dropped off some troops in Stanza's White Forest, and snuck up on a Vaskran outpost in the middle of the dense cluster of trees. The aliens inside didn't suspect a thing, mostly because it was early morning and the weather was cold, not very good for cold-blooded creatures such as themselves even with advanced temperature regulators built into their armour. The perimeter guards were picked off one by one, and Echo Squad made their way into the alien structure. It was small, that was for one, and once the rest of the lizards were taken out, the human soldiers got to explore further.

Specialist Samantha 'River' Riley stared at the curious alien weapons her squad had found in the outpost's armoury, before slipping off her helmet and picking up a strange long-barrelled one. "So what do you think of this, huh?" She asked, holding up the weapon and turning around. The rest of her squad turned to look at her, each giving half-hearted nods and acknowledgements.

"River, put that down." She turned to the source of the voice. It belonged to a man wearing Standard-issue Marine Powered Combat Armour, much like she was wearing. "Remember what we're here for. The cleanup crew can snag a few of those later on." Sergeant Roland Ford, Echo Squad's leader, said. Riley shrugged and put the weapon back down. "You got it, sarge."

"How do we know whatever we're looking for is here, anyway?" Corporal James Weathersby asked in his rather strong British accent. "We've been looking all over the place. I haven't seen this disk-shaped metal thing anywhere."

Ford sighed. "It has to be here. Scanners don't lie."

"What about the time the scanners lead the 552nd right into a trap, huh?" Riley challenged. Ford glared at her, his reflective visor slipping into his helmet to show his scarred face. "I didn't ask you. Now keep looking, all of you!" Riley grunted and went back to searching, when she knocked down several storage containers, spilling alien ammo all over the place.

"Dammit!" She cursed, when she caught sight of something out of place, something foreign in the mess of blue-green cylinders all over the floor. "What the hell?" She asked, picking up the tiny diamond-like object.

That was the last thing she saw before her mind was assaulted by a series of excruciating stabbing sensations, and her vision was replaced by a black void.

@PentagonWhite

Hohenstadt, Capital of the Empire
Cathedral of the Nine, Imperial Palace, 11:56am

“Monk’s Hood.” Erika gestured to one of the slowly-drying stems, plucked and laid neatly before her. Her billowing dress of silk and satin shifted almost-silently as her arm made its procession towards the green item, and made its presence known as she worked her way down the review of herbs. “Matron’s Pulpit. Basil, Dill, Horehound, Mint, Belladonna, Elecampane…” she tarried on the last stem, her mind whipping with thought, tongue pressed to the roof of her mouth as the silence of the small antechamber soothed her. “Deaconwort.” She smiled as she found the word, and beamed when she caught the impressed eyes of Master Lorenz.

“Splendid, Princess, splendid!” His bushy eyebrows gestured his approval, his mouth hidden by a prodigious beard. “I see you’ve been studying, very dutifully indeed, simply splendid.” His rough tenor, carved by age, contrasted her ringing alto, both commanding different forms of attention, both fitting their roles. The old man was right, of course: Erika had tortured herself throughout her last night, buried in tomes of herbalist lore. She couldn’t see the use of it, but she had long since learned that she was not wise enough to understand everything that would make her better, especially in the Mysteries. Her fading smile was buoyed for another few moments as she remembered a petulant tantrum, one protesting wearing powerful spectacles atop her perfect vision. The cathedral’s bells rung, far above in the high tower. “You’re free to go, your Highness. Remember to study Gowen’s Treatises for next time…”

The aging scholar looked like he would continue for hours , so Erika cut him off with a quick stand and a shallow bow, all the unranked man was entitled from her. A muttering that led to silence followed her out of the room, right into intent, genteel eyes. Erika smiled again, and turned to walk through the cloister. Sir Alarik followed close by her. He was her father’s newest guard, hardly two years older than her. Clad in the black and gold of the Knights of the Body, in decorative plate and a jeweled saber, he carried in one hand a small wrapped package, a box of in clean white paper. “Good morning, your Highness.” The bells finished their chiming. “Or, afternoon.” He smiled a handsome, winning smile at Erika, too familiar by only a hair. Erika couldn’t help but smile back, ever so slightly.

“Is my father looking for me, Sir Alarik?” She knew he would have some excuse for meeting, though she was beginning to suspect there were ulterior motives. She’d find a way to make her disinterest clear, despite the lean musculature and regal jawline. Mastery of the sword did not a consort make, not alone, and there was little blood to be spoken of. His tan skin evidence that well enough, the mark of a provincial noble with a few mines and cattle.

“He’s not, your Highness.” He clearly enjoyed her surprise. “A package came for you, delivered this morning. A gift to your family, but it must be for you.” Erika narrowed her eyes at the package, suspicious. “It is the duty of the Body to check all packages bearing a noble seal.” She snatched the package, unwrapping it as the strong knight and the demure princess entered the Imperial gardens. Wind blew at her blonde locks, sending them dancing among the smells of spring. Alarik’s short cut stood resolute, though his woolen mantle gave small ripples in the breeze.

She pried the seal open with her nails, whose beauty were sacrificed for her practice of alchemy. “I’m well aware of your duties.” Her rebuke was soft. “They do not include assumptions about Family affairs.” She tore off the paper, handing it to the chagrined warrior, who took it gracefully. She opened the top of the card box, and saw a brilliant, pristine diamond sitting within. A sunbeam infiltrated the box and caught its facets, and a rainbow spread clear as day. Erika felt her breath catch in her throat at the beauty. “…but I think, in this case, I’ll forgive you. In whose name was it giv-“

Alarik was making to answer as her finger brushed the gem. It felt like her hand was on fire. She pulled it back with enough force to drop her to the ground, splaying herself on the mown grass. The flames did not die, and shot up her arm, rushing towards her mind. She called for her magic, but it did not come. Her last sight before being swallowed by darkness was Sir Alarik, crouching beside her, face white with fear.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Her vision swam as she found herself somewhere new. She felt tired, confused, as though the world was spinning. Her body felt odd, surreal: too tall, clumsy, heavy. She assumed she was in her bedroom, or in a pagoda in the gardens, but a quick look around found herself… somewhere. Strange men and women in strange armor. A metal room of bizarre metal instruments, centered around a scar-faced man. Fear knotted in her stomach. “W-where am I?” Her voice quavered, and the knot of terror only grew when she realized her voice was not her own.

"Hey, River, wake up, dammit!" Said Private First Class Ethan Graves, shaking the fallen body of his squadmate, his ACAR behind his back, fixed in place by a set of magnetic grips. River had fallen for no reason. Yes, she dropped a box of Vaskran energy cells all over the place, but it appeared that she bent down to pick one of them up, before collapsing. The whole of Echo Squad (or those in the same room, anyway) was currently staring at the unconscious form of Echo's feisty rifleman.

"What the hell just happened, man?" Private Tyler Webbs asked, making his way over to Graves and crouching next to him.

"I don't know. She picked something up and then collapsed. She's not waking- oh, hello." He was hit with a surge of relief as River's green eyes blinked open, followed by her asking 'where am I' in an awfully confused tone. Graves chuckled and helped her back to her feet. "You're in the armoury, remember? You passed out five minutes ago." He ran some checks on her, patting her down and brushing some dirt off her armour. "You should be fine. We got what we came here for. Come on, we're heading back to the Interloper."



The first thing Riley saw when she came to was the sight of a young man bending over her, gently touching her. Her combat training flared up and she kicked his hands away. "Hey, hands off, asshole!" She cried, shooting up to her feet and assuming a defensive position. She reached for her sidearm, normally holstered by her left hip, only to come into contact with some soft cloth. She growled and reached for her knife instead, also not finding it there. Frantically, she patted down the rest of her dress to find-

Wait.

Dress?

"What the fuck?" She screamed, lifting up and feeling the soft material. "What the fuck did you do to my armour?" She spun around, noticing the strange architecture of her surroundings. She wasn't in a metal room filled with weapons, she wasn't surrounded by her trusted squadmates, hell, she wasn't even in a forest anymore. "Where the fuck am I?" She raised her fists, when she noticed something.

These weren't her hands.

Riley slowly uncurled her fists and stared at them. Too small and pale to be. "What the-" And only then did she notice that that wasn't her voice either. It was too high and clear to be, as opposed to her deeper and more mature-sounding voice register. Frozen in one place, too shocked to move, she could only ask one question.

"What the fuck happened to me?!"

@PentagonWhite