Updated: Feb 19, 2019
Fighters scream overhead, joining others to aide in defense of the stronghold. The vestiges of destruction smear the sky with blood. War has come looking for new players. This is the last outpost. If it holds, the system has a chance to organize its scattered forces. If it falls, they will be left defenseless. She has sworn to defend it with her life.....to give them a chance. She spies the warship in the distance lumbering through the air like a massive iron blimp. She can feel its eyes on her. They want what she has vowed to protect since taking the oath. She will not yield this ground. Several wasp-fighters shoot out of the dock toward her. She draws her weapon, and holding one piece in each hand, slams the hilts together. She pulls them apart and an electric current arc flares to life. The bolt cutter, a malleable surge of energy that can cut through anything. She wields it with the skill of a samurai. The arc licks the air and she readies herself for the first flurry of shots. The fighters swarm above her, and the first one breaks formation to attack. She flings the bolt cutter out like a whip, charging the air around the approaching fighter. It can't escape the electric cloud that forms in its path. It's circuits fry and down it goes. The next gets too close and is rewarded by being sliced in half. A costly mistake. Fighter after fighter is taken out swiftly and with deft efficiency. She breathes heavily, exhausted but still willing to fight.
A slow, creaking moan fills the air. She turns to find the mother ship has turned its sights on her....she re-engages the arc...she cannot fail.