Derek, help me!

Twenty vehicles—trucks and tanks—left the massive gates of the stronghold, heading for two huge aircraft that had the external appearance of a shuttle.

At the walls, Derek stood with both hands in his pockets. Behind him was a man with a flattering smile on his lips.

"Are you sure you can't stay? The federation will reward your cult immensely."

Derek could feel the anxiety and fear emanating from the mayor of the stronghold. It was obvious the void attack had scarred him and the nightmare war bore heavily on his mind.

"This is not our destination," Derek replied.

"Wait, I can pay for..."

The man couldn't finish his words when Derek jumped from the fifteen-meter-tall metallic wall. With a flash of silver, he was gone.

"He left." The assistant to the mayor sighed. He adjusted his glasses while staring at the troops moving into two huge shuttles.

"When did the federation produce such vehicles? The armor included."