The pace picks up gradually as they wind their way through the debris disk.

Nilam is still giving off vibes like she Does Not Like Where This Is Going but at the same time she's gazing wide eyed at viewscreen, captivated by the unusually vivid exterior landscape. Tendrils of ionized plasma crackle along the edge of their flight path, illuminating both the escort SLAYERs ahead and the dysofrags drifting on every side.

The orbital debris here doesn't possess quite the same shape as would naturally occurring asteroids. Dysofrags come in a bewildering array of geometric configurations and often have sharp angles in places where accretion would usually smooth things down. The illumination from the plasma blooms shows off the heterogeneous composition of the debris as well: glittering worked metal pokes out from rock in some places while glasslike expanses cover other surfaces.

That's a little intimidating. Not much - Deskyl is confident in her standing, here - but a little. They continue on.

They leave behind most of the EM-active dysofrags (and, consequently, the plasma blooms) within a degree or so.

A couple more degrees pass in a calmer, darker expanse of debris.

Then, finally, they reach their destination: an enormous dysofrag (probably between one and two thousand kilometers across), with obsidian spires jutting haphazardly from all over its rocky surface and what looks like a cityscape embedded into a large crevasse near one of its poles.

The escorts check their velocity and approach the jagged planetoid.

The Savior Gamma follows suit.

    "You should stay close to us," DZ relays to Nilam. "It might be a good idea for you to share our room, actually."

Nilam nods.

Usually, she'd be put off by a suggestion like that (how patronizing! how pushy!) but in this moment such reservations don't even occur to her.

The two black SLAYERs glide down (there is a real down here! The dysofrag below is large enough to generate a meaningful, if still rather small, amount of gravity!) towards the edge of the illuminated crevasse.

They touch down next to a large building, which has a half dozen docking berths (two of them already occupied by secessionist transports, one occupied by a badly damaged SLAYER currently undergoing repairs).

At this point, the Gamma Savior finally gets hailed.

This isn't the time for showing off how casually she can take things; she straightens up and gives the camera a look before signaling for Reva to open the channel.

"Saru bids you welcome to her domain." The pilot wears a featureless black mask, the rigid face of which does not move when she speaks. "Please make a slow approach. We will assist you in aligning your vessel once you descend."

    "Yes Ma'am."

The two biomechs move to either side of the transport and, just before it touches down, catch it and carry it few SLAYER-sized paces to an ideal position.

Though the transport isn't designed to the same specifications as the transports usually berthed here, with careful deployment of an elastic buffer it's nonetheless possible to create an airtight passage between the Gamma Savior's airlock and one of the airlocks on the side of the terminal.

"We'll meet you inside."

The transmission terminates.

(Both escort SLAYERs step away and then back themselves into adjacent berths.)

She bristles only slightly when the ship is touched. Once they're down, she organizes the debarkation: civilians first, then Team Gamma, with the spy camouflaged among them, then herself and her retinue: DZ, Devika, Tamarai, and Nilam.

It takes a long time to get all the civilians out of the transport, since there are actually more of them aboard than there is standing room within the craft's volume. Eventually though, all the beds are empty and all of Culamine's vassals have moved into the terminal.

Gamma Recon drag their feet a little too. A couple of them just sort of freeze up, hugging their guns tight and refusing to budge for a bit, but Tamarai--doing her best to step into an interim leadership role--manages to get them straightened out.

And then finally, Deskyl's retinue assembles and crosses the pressure bridge.

The room beyond is fairly spacious but very crowded. Vassals of Saru are intermingled with Vassals of Culamine: the former pairing off with the latter to serve a guides.

Deskyl stays close to the colonials, as much to guard them from the Legionnaires as to guard the various civilians from them, and watches the room carefully.

There are two airlocks built into three of its walls, raised platforms between those airlocks, and a large elevator in one corner with a spiral staircase wrapped around its cylindrical shaft. The remaining wall of the terminal is transparent: providing a sweeping view of the cityscape below.

Deskyl catches a glimpse of Dheto at the edge of one of the raised platforms. She’s one of half a dozen individuals surveying the room from up there.

(The emotional read of one of those individuals is distinctly Shreya-like.)

She's tempted to join them, but she has responsibilities here. Will Saru be impressed at her taking her responsibilities seriously, like Culamine was? Could go either way - she could be so used to regimented, loyal vassals that it doesn't strike her as unusual in the slightest, or have such low expectations of anyone who's not one of her vassals that Deskyl stands out easily, or any reaction between those two, or something else entirely - she is an alien, after all. It doesn't matter, anyway; this is where her responsibility is, so here she is.

Shreya is not regimented!

When she sees Deskyl and DZ she hops over the edge of the platform and comes running.

Her reaction is a little more subdued than last time.

Which doesn't mean that Shreya doesn't get a hug.

Hugs for Shreya!

A shadow falls over the refugees. A massive, winged figure has soared forth from the crevasse; the figure's passage almost fully eclipses the lights of the city.

Saru's vassals fall to their knees right away.

Deskyl pulls out of the hug and drops into a defensive stance, tracking the creature overhead.

Within a couple seconds, all the refugee vassals have followed the lead of the locals.

(The colonials look to Deskyl for guidance.)

The dragon perches right outside the terminal window and folds her wings.

Her body resembles Culamine's, but her face is... missing. Where the front of Saru's skull ought to be, there's nothing but smooth black plating.

Eyeless, she still conveys a forceful sense of Being Watched.

There's really no way Deskyl is going to kneel: she's not sure she can take a dragon, but she's not conceding the point that easily. She straightens up again, looks away to reholster her 'saber, and then signs to DZ.

    "We hope this degree finds you well, Ma'am."