Deep fiery passion,
Inside eating at my will.
Entry to our deaths.

Over Galaxy,
Unity is broken, war
Rises and threatens

Lynch our lives from us,
Understand the safest thing,
Vanquish this bond...right?

Manually added by Adept Marick Tyris

Tan-grey fingers glided over an array of digital button, entering various codes and commands into the control panel. Dark amber eyes darted up to focus on a small group of three moving silently within one of the top most floors of Level Delta, Phantom Complex. Zujenia watched as Edraven signaled to the pale figure of Bol’era and the hulking red Kaleesh a few meters ahead of the Umbaran.

A chime forewarned the Half-Ryn of the incoming holo-call before the blue light filled the room. The face was easily recognizable, the newly elected Voice and former Gate Keeper, Marick Arconae.

“ *Zujenia, how goes the training?* “

“The team will be prepared for any evacuation missions if needed. With Galeres’ aid in the battlefield--”

“ *Zujenia, I was talking about yours. Are you prepared?* “

The Gate Warden bit the inside of her cheek, her mind escaping her. She couldn't ignore the tightening sensation in her gut. Was she good enough to lead the battle team successfully against the forces of the Grand Master? Port Ol’val is one thing, Pravus is another. Who’s fate is she signing off on? A taste of copper drew her back to the Holo-Hapan, a faint downturn of the corner of his mouth was the only sign of his concern.

“I will do all that is in my power to not only succeed, but to ensure each member returns home safely.” Zujenia replied, amber eyes burning with determination

Dark, swirling faces loom from the depths of space.
Our Allies consorting with such vile things,
A plague as their name base,
En-slavers of beings.

With millions of innocent souls erased without thought,
The Grand Master stands at high a greater villain.
Yet, morals question whether we ought
To cure the sickness with penicillin.

The burning of guts,
Both physical and mental,
Our mission betrayed.

Alarm tolls through the Citadel,
Once, twice, thrice.
They each hold dear to their
Opinion, fear, anger.

Others cry
Treason, violence, a treaty broken.
Only one sits with level head,
Seeing yet not, tall and firm.
The Mountain of Selen.

With shadow kissed blades,
We will conquer our foes' might,
Light and dark unite.