Editing Power Guardians (section)

==== Part 2 ====
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Present Day

Three ships warped onto the screen. Scant of imperial livery, painted fully black, full of unknown weaponry, and appearing chaotic in nature, Captain James Emmerrit was damn downright scared. "God help us all!" he cried from his command post, and sounded to combat stations.

"Grand Master! Sir, we have encountered Imperial Ships, they powering up weapons! Do we retaliate?" yelled the Grand Master's helmet. Quickly donning his armor's gauntlets, he screwed on his helmet shut and replied "Negative Captain. Power up the void shield and use evasive maneuvers. Relay to the other Captains" Red emergency lights blared across and the emergency maneuver alarms sounded. Brother Omniel barely had time to grab a bar onto the wall as the ship pirouetted through space, throwing him to the left, then right. He lost his grip and was thrown to the ceiling before being slammed down onto the floor. Clambering the stairway ladder that lead to the bridge, the ship jerked erratically over and over again. "Sir, we have minimal damage on ventral hull structure from these evasive maneuvers. There is only one enemy, a battle barge, attacking us, and with a well aimed shot from the coilgun we can disable their engines temporarily. A mishap could do serious damage to them, but we cannot continue our evasive maneuvers at the risk of internal tearing," the Captain of Old Broadsides stated, fairly worried. "Damn it. Hail them once more, and if they don't answer, take the shot. As far as communications go, they can't hail anyone," stated the Grand Master, voice set and determined. As the hail was ignored once more, Old Broadsides took actions. Orders were sent, and unseen by Brother Omniel, an large oval slot slid back from the battering ram, and out came a stubby barrel. This was a massive coilgun, that the ship itself was built upon. A firing solution was set, and Old Broadsides prepared for the inevitable.

Trent Lynch was in the engine room when it happened. He was in Engine Room 1 aboard the Mastodon when the combat alarm was sounded, messing around with a plasma dial. He ran to his station, which happened airlock number 43, unholstered his lasgun and took his post in the dark corner protected by piping from enemy fire. He waited.