LORD SUMMERS’ SECRET MISSION part 2

🚨 Nornavio War Room

The war room buzzed with tactical chatter and glowing holo‑maps until Lord Summers stepped forward. His presence alone seemed to make the air stand straighter.

Lord Summers
Baron Staples, contact Lord Sark aboard the Silent Runner. I require a meeting. And a shuttle. I’ll return to the Barony afterward.

Wyatt blinked. Summers rarely requested anything. Usually things just… happened around him.
But Wyatt knew better than to ask why. Survival instincts were a powerful teacher.

He tapped into the internal network.

Wyatt
Lieutenant Galt, set up a meeting with the Silent Runner. Prep a shuttle. Leopold’s flying.

Moments later, Galt’s voice crackled through.

Lieutenant Galt
Meeting confirmed. Shuttle ready in fifteen minutes.

Wyatt turned.

Wyatt
Lord Summers, everything’s arranged. Shuttle’s being prepped now. Leopold will pilot.

Summers bowed respectfully to Princess Clara, then pivoted sharply and strode out of the war room like a man who already knew the next ten steps of the mission.

Wyatt watched him go.

Wyatt
Your Majesty… Summers is heading to the Silent Runner to talk to Lord Sark. I have no idea why.

Princess Clara folded her arms.

Princess Clara
I find no need to inquire. Lord Summers is highly capable. If he wants Sark, he has a reason.

Wyatt leaned toward Cynthia.

Wyatt
Who is Lord Summers? Even the Royal Marines got excited. They don’t get excited about anything. Not even payday.

Cynthia smirked.

Cynthia
He was head of the Royal Marines Academy. And my personal instructor.

She paused.

Cynthia
That’s all I can tell you. Anything more, and I’d have to kill you.

The three exchanged a nervous laugh — mostly because they weren’t sure she was joking.

🚀 Nornavio Shuttle Bay

The shuttle bay was a hive of activity — until Lord Summers walked in.

Everything stopped.

A loader drone froze mid‑lift. A tech paused with a wrench halfway raised. Even the ambient hum seemed to hold its breath.

Leopold jogged up, slightly out of breath.

Leopold
Lord Summers, Baron Staples assigned me to fly you to the Silent Runner and then back to the Barony.

A crew chief sprinted over.

Crew Chief
Sir! Shuttle NV‑02 is ready for immediate departure!

Leopold saluted, then gestured.

Leopold
Right this way, Lord. You can ride up front.

Summers nodded and boarded. The hatch hissed shut.

They strapped in.

Leopold
Nornavio Launch Command, shuttle NV‑02 requesting permission to depart. Destination: Silent Runner, then Barony of the Screaming Forest.

Lieutenant Galt
Permission granted. And check in with BOSF Ground Control on descent.

Leopold
Understood.

The shuttle blasted through the shield, engines flaring blue.

🛰️ Approach to the Silent Runner

Leopold
Silent Runner, this is NV‑02 requesting landing clearance. Lord Summers aboard for meeting with Lord Sark.

A giggly AI answered.

Amara (over comms)
NV‑02, permission to come aboard!

Summers and Leopold exchanged a look.

Summers
That… was different.

The shuttle slipped through the bay’s energy shield and touched down smoothly.

Summers stood.

Lord Summers
Wait here. I won’t be long.

He strode out of the shuttle like he owned the ship. His “final boss energy” hit the deck crew like a shockwave.

Lord Stark approached, bowing his head.

Lord Sark
Welcome aboard the Silent Runner. *, Lord Summers. How may I serve?

Lord Summers
A secure room. We need to talk.

Lord Sark
Of course. Follow me.

🔒 Private Conference Room

Summers didn’t sit. He stood like a man delivering orders to the universe.

Lord Summers
The Princess has assigned me to a special project. I understand you have high‑tech assembly drones. I need them sent to Bay One of the Orbital Shipyard.

Nikko’s eyes lit up.

Lord Sark
Ah. The special fighter project.

Summers nodded.

Lord Summers
I’ll replicate the parts at my base in the Barony, then transport them to the shipyard for final assembly.

Nikko leaned back.

Lord Sark
I can help. But I need a small favor.

Summers raised an eyebrow.

Lord Summers
Go on.

Lord Sark
I’m building a resort complex in the Barony. I want ten residents trained for security.

Summers actually smiled — which was somehow more intimidating.

Lord Summers
I can fold them into the training I’m already planning. Baron Staples wants an independent police force. Your guards will train alongside them. They’ll know each other. They’ll coordinate. Efficient.

Lord Sark
Then we have a deal. The drones will be dropped off before I leave orbit. Amara will upload programming instructions.

Stark escorted Summers back to the shuttle.

As NV‑02 lifted off, Amara’s hologram flickered into existence.

Amara
Lord Summers is scary. My sensors flagged him as extremely dangerous. More dangerous than your girlfriend.

She giggled.

Nikko sighed.

🌍 Descent to the Screaming Forest

Leopold
BOSF Ground Control, NV‑02 requesting landing pad access.

Ground Control
Permission granted — as long as you land within 45 minutes.

Leopold
Understood. Touchdown in twenty.

The shuttle plunged through atmosphere, plasma sheathing the hull. Leopold landed as gently as possible — because his life absolutely depended on it.

Summers disembarked, greeted by Sergeant Bauer.

Leopold wasted no time blasting off again.

Mid‑flight, he connected to Wyatt.

Leopold
Wyatt… what mission did you send me on? Lord Summers is terrifying. He barely spoke to me and I almost lost bladder discipline.

Wyatt burst out laughing.

Wyatt
Yeah, he’s scary. Jincho calls him “Scary Eyes.”

They both laughed.

🏛️ BOSF Town Hall

Summers and Sergeant Bauer entered. The soldiers at the front desk snapped to attention so fast one nearly pulled a muscle.

Lord Summers
Inform the Administrator and the Sergeant Major that I require them in the Administrator’s office immediately.

A guard grabbed the comm unit with the urgency of someone who did not want to disappoint Lord Summers.

Administrator (over comms)
Of course. Send them up immediately.

Summers strode into the office. Administrator Anio and the Sergeant Major were already standing at attention, waiting.

Summers placed the written orders — sealed by Princess Clara and Baron Staples — onto the desk.

To be continued…

Barony of the Screaming Forest

Grand Revolution Loyalist Attack — War Room Sequence

Barney Town Hall — War Room

The holotable hummed with quiet menace as Captain Warllo, the Sergeant Major, Administrator Aino, and the newest addition to the council—Lord Richard Summers—took their seats. Tactical overlays flickered across the walls, painting the room in shifting blues and reds.

Aino cleared his throat.
“Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce Lord Summers.”

Summers gave a polite nod, the kind that said yes, I’m dangerous, but also very approachable.

“Lord Summers,” Aino continued, “is an expert in weapons fabrication. Due to Principality restrictions, we can’t manufacture anything heavier than light weapons. Fortunately, House Summers—being a branch of House Winfield—has access to… let’s call them legacy armaments from ancient Earth. He’s brought replicator files containing a wide variety of these weapons. The Princess personally recommended him for his ‘out‑of‑the‑box solutions.’ He’s been fully briefed on General Swallowtail’s warning about the Great Revolution forces.”

Aino gestured.
“Lord Summers, the floor is yours.”

Summers tapped a command into the holotable. A massive drone silhouette appeared—sleek, predatory, and absolutely not Principality‑approved.

“First problem: detection. We need to know when anything—large unit, small unit, or some idiot with a revolutionary pamphlet—approaches the Barony.”

He pointed at the projection.
“This is the Global Hawk. Long‑duration recon drone. Ancient Earth design, heavily upgraded. It can scan 100,000 square kilometers a day, track individual units, and zoom in on a ten‑square‑kilometer patch with absurd resolution. I’ve already built and deployed three—two airborne, one on standby.”

Captain Warllo let out a low whistle.
“Ancient Earth really didn’t mess around.”

“Second problem,” Summers continued. “Stopping whatever we detect.”

Another drone silhouette appeared—meaner, bulkier, radiating the energy of a machine that had opinions about enemy armor.

“This is the MQ‑9 Reaper. Works in tandem with the Global Hawk. Real‑time targeting data, precision strikes, and armed with eight laser‑guided Hellfire missiles. Ancient weapon, extremely efficient. Credited with hundreds of armored vehicle kills in its service with the old United States military.”

Warllo chuckled.
“Sounds like they really knew how to throw a party.”

The Sergeant Major grinned.
“With intel like this and standoff firepower from the Reapers, the Great Revolution zealots won’t be a problem. If they survive the Hellfires, we’ll send in Special Forces to help them regret their life choices.”

The room erupted in laughter.

Summers pointed to a monitor showing a cluster of razor claws prowling through the forest.
Aino nodded. “That’ll be a lifesaver for the loggers and hunters. Knowing where those things are means fewer surprise dismemberments.”

Two Weeks Later — Barney War Room

Sergeant Bauer leaned over the console, eyes wide.
“Sergeant Major, drones have detected a large enemy force five miles northeast of the Barony.”

The Sergeant Major didn’t hesitate.
“Patch me through to General Swallowtail.”

The general appeared on the screen, sipping something that looked strong enough to dissolve armor plating.

“What can I do for you today, Sergeant Major?”

“We’ve detected a large armored unit ten kilometers outside our border. Do you have anything in that area?”

Swallowtail asked an aide off‑screen, then shook his head.
“No friendly units there. Must be our Great Revolution friends following through on their threats. Do you need assistance? And how exactly did you know they’re ten kilometers out?”

The Sergeant Major ended the call very quickly before answering that last question.

“Sergeant Bauer, get Special Forces suited up. Execute Operation Baby Seal Clubbing.”

Red lights flashed. Klaxons blared. Somewhere, a bureaucrat fainted at the operation name.

At the secret airfield, Reaper drones were loaded to maximum capacity with Hellfires, refueled, and launched—three silent angels of mechanized vengeance.

The Global Hawk fed pristine HD imagery into the war room.

Captain Warllo entered, and everyone snapped to attention.
“As you were,” he said. “I’m just here for the show.”

Twenty minutes later, the Reaper feeds lit up the monitors.

“Send the feed to General Swallowtail,” the Sergeant Major ordered.

The general appeared again.
“What’s this? Drone footage?”

“I thought you’d enjoy the show,” the Sergeant Major said. “You seemed curious about Hellfire.”

The weapons officer spoke up.
“Hostile forces have fully entered Barony territory.”

The Sergeant Major nodded.
“Fire all Hellfires.”

A minute later, the armored column ceased to exist.

Missiles streaked down like judgment from orbit. Tanks erupted, turrets launched skyward, and secondary explosions blossomed into a rolling fireball that turned the forest edge into a temporary sun. A few heavy trucks at the rear managed to flee, likely screaming the entire way.

The Sergeant Major turned to the general.
“Looks like a few escaped. Make sure your troops bring extra uniforms. I imagine those survivors have… lost bladder discipline.”

The war room struggled not to laugh.

General Swallowtail stared, stunned.
“So… that’s Hellfire.”

Special Forces Deployment — Battlefield Sweep

The fireball still roiled on the horizon when the Sergeant Major turned from the monitors.

“Alright. Special Forces, saddle up. Shuttle’s waiting.”

Sergeant Bauer snapped a salute and jogged out, already barking orders into his comms.

Barony Shuttle — En Route to Impact Zone

The Barony shuttle lifted off in a plume of blue ion wash, engines humming with that familiar we’re‑not‑supposed‑to-have-this-tech undertone. Inside, the Special Forces unit sat strapped in, armored up, visors down, weapons checked.

Corporal Jansen nudged his squadmate.
“So… Operation Baby Seal Clubbing. Who names these things?”

Sergeant Bauer didn’t look up from his datapad.
“Lord Summers. And don’t complain. Last time he named an op, we got hazard pay.”

The shuttle banked hard, descending toward the smoking battlefield. The pilot’s voice crackled over the intercom.

“Approaching target zone. Reaper drones confirm no remaining armor threats. Possible survivors scattered in the treeline.”

“Copy,” Bauer said. “We’ll mop up.”

Impact Zone — Post‑Strike Sweep

The shuttle touched down with a hiss of hydraulics. The ramp dropped, and the Special Forces unit moved out in a smooth, predatory line.

The battlefield was a graveyard of twisted metal. Tank hulls lay cracked open like eggshells. Turrets were embedded in the dirt at odd angles. Smoke drifted lazily upward, carrying the scent of scorched alloy and revolutionary overconfidence.

Bauer tapped his helmet.
“War Room, Special Forces on site. Beginning sweep.”

The Sergeant Major’s voice came through, dry as ever.
“Copy. Try not to step on anything that’s still on fire.”

The squad fanned out.

Private Loran pointed at a tank turret half‑buried in the ground.
“Sir… that thing launched at least fifty meters.”

“Hellfire tends to make strong arguments,” Bauer replied.

They moved past the wreckage, scanning for movement. A few revolutionaries staggered out of the treeline—hands up, weapons dropped, faces pale.

Corporal Jansen raised his rifle.
“Looks like they survived the blast.”

Bauer waved him down.
“They’re done. Detain them, patch them up, and send coordinates to General Swallowtail’s cleanup crew.”

One of the captured revolutionaries trembled.
“What… what was that? What did you hit us with?”

Jansen shrugged.
“Ancient Earth hospitality.”

Shuttle Extraction

With the area secured, Bauer signaled the shuttle.

“War Room, sweep complete. No remaining armor. Survivors detained. Sending full telemetry to General Swallowtail.”

The Sergeant Major responded immediately.
“Good work. Bring your guests home. General Swallowtail’s forces will take it from there.”

As the shuttle lifted off, the squad looked out over the battlefield—still glowing with the aftermath of the Reapers’ strike.

Jansen shook his head.
“You know… I’m starting to like Lord Summers’ toys.”

Bauer smirked.
“Just wait until he shows you the other replicator files.”

The shuttle banked toward Barney, leaving behind a smoking crater full of ruined armor and very humbled revolutionaries.

“Operation Compost” 🔥

NorNavio – War Room

Redford, Cynthia, and Wyatt stood around the tactical holo-table, its blue light washing over their faces as they reviewed ship operations and future deployment plans.

Lieutenant Galt flickered into existence in the 3D projector, ANN’s voice riding on the feed.
“Reaper’s Eye reports two converted pirate freighters and approximately fifty fighters vectoring toward Station Kailyn.”

Redford didn’t miss a beat. He turned to Wyatt with a grin that said go have fun.
“Wolfhound, go deal with the pirate scum for me. We’re mid‑repairs, and I’m not letting those clowns steal a minute of my repair time.”

Wyatt snapped a crisp salute.
“Yes, sir. Consider it done.”

Redford nodded to Galt.
“Inform Station Kailyn the Wolfhound is en route to take out the trash.”

NorNavio – Composter Barracks

The overhead speakers crackled.
“Composters, prepare for battle. We’ve got pirate friends in need of… composting.”

Armor lockers slammed open. Composters sprinted to their quarters, suiting up in combat armor with the speed of people who really enjoy their jobs. Within moments they were charging toward the fighter bay.

NorNavio – Fighter Bay

Controlled chaos.
Technicians darted between Super Raptors, refueling lines hissing, weapon carts rolling, crew chiefs barking orders like drill sergeants hopped up on caffeine. Warning lights flashed as overfuel vents hissed into the air.

Then—everything froze.

Wyatt, the Wolfhound, stepped through the doors.

For one sacred second, the entire bay held its breath.
Then the tech crews doubled their pace like someone had hit fast‑forward.

A moment later the rest of the Composters arrived, splitting off toward their Raptors. They performed quick, disciplined preflight checks, climbed the ladders, and sealed themselves into their cockpits.

Launch

The Super Raptors roared out of the bay, accompanied by the Count Asgard drone. Engines flared as they burned hard toward the incoming pirate force.

Wyatt’s voice crackled over comms.
“Composters, time to compost the pirate trash.”

He laid out the plan with practiced ease:
“Composter Two and Count Asgard, you’re with me on the right freighter. Three, Four, Five — take the left. We punch straight through their fighters. Release countermeasures on approach to scramble their tracking. Once we hit torpedo range, launch Sapulin Assault, drop their shields, railgun the core, then mop up the stragglers. And protect your wingman — I’m not explaining to Jincho why one of you scratched his paint.”

Engagement

Minutes later, the battle lit up the void.

The converted freighters erupted in twin blossoms of fire as railgun rounds punched through their engine cores. Pirate fighters tried to scatter, but the Super Raptors were faster, meaner, and flown by pilots who treated dogfights like a competitive sport.

One by one, the pirate fighters were shredded — or, as the Composters preferred to say, “properly composted.”

Wyatt chuckled over comms.
“Nicely done, Composters. Honestly, I was merciful. I didn’t even give them Count Asgard’s speech.”

A chorus of laughter followed.

The Raptors formed up, engines flaring as they burned back toward the NorNavio.

BlackShip Retreat from the Cayson Black Ship battleship

Not necessarily Canon. Done without approval.

 

 The boarding party from the princesses Forces quickly moving down the Ship’s passageways heading back to the shuttle Bay. Moving to return to Princesses fleet. The floor is littered with dead bodies and sparking panels from the brutal fight .

 

Cynthia using short range Communication system orders the retreat retreating team to execute operation Sore Loser.

 

The retreating forces as they move down the various passageways place C4 charges At various vital spots including conduits control panels Door controllers.

 

Cynthia is carrying Wyatt with a mixture of concern and anger on her face. It appears Jinco Has installed some rogue AI’s within the system of the battleship. Just as the princesses forces clear an area The doors are slammed closed and locked.

 

Cynthia enters the shuttle Bay and asked the a Marine guard ” Is everyone accounted for” The Marine replies Yes Lady Winfield.

 

The Blood Ren Is the last to board the shuttle as the door closes she presses a button on her gauntlet .

 

The last shuttle leaves the shuttle Bay at maximum thrust and 10 seconds later there’s a massive flash of an explosion coming from the shuttle Bay . A huge release of atmosphere from the ship from the shuttle Bay is causing the ship to slowly move from The station .

 

 

NorNavio Bridge

 

Admiral Kaylin: Composters fire all your rail gun rounds into the engine of the battleship and then return Back to the NorNavio.

 

All ships fire a Barrage of missiles at all of Cayson and Fleet. Recover all your shuttles and fighters and be prepared to jump.

 

When the composters unload Their rail gun rounds into the Engines of the Black Ship battleship A huge explosion happens blowing up the rear 3^(rd) of the ship. Fortunately for the station the ship’s reactors are in a heavily armored citadel in the center of the ship and does not immediately explode .

 

The barrages missiles hitting the various blackships including the battleship inflict devastating damage on the unshielded ships venting atmosphere and many personnel in the space .

 

 

Cayson Battleship Black Ship

 

The Case in Honor Guard it’s dragging Andrew Cason Into Escape pod. He is resisting but being overwhelmed by his honor guard. “Lord Andrew we need to go now The ship is is done for. Lord Andrew screams out ” No I must finish off the Wraith. The escape pod door slammed shut . The escape pod is ejected into space maneuvering toward the station.

 

NorNavio Bridge

 

Prince Clara enters the bridge her persona on her face shows the Reaper.

 

She looks at Redford and tells him shoot the black ship battleship with the Pulse beam cannon take out this reactor.

 

 

Your Majesty that might caused damage to the station. Just do it NOW!

 

Without Waiting for from the Admiral the weapons officer power Sup the Pulse beep cannon . It takes two minutes to bring it up to full power. Weapons officer then says the pulse beam cannon charged and ready to fire. The Reaper replies FIRE!

 

A moment later the black ship battleship erupts into a small sun vaporizing it .

 

Admiral Kaylin. What’s the status of station.

 

Lieutenant Galt There was some superficial damage fortunately their Shields held and they may need to do some reboosting because they were knocked into a lower orbit .

 

Princess Clara I’m going to Medical Bay . Redford have the fleet jump to Hago.

 

She quickly leaves the bridge followed by her 2 Royal Marine escorts.

 

 

NorNavio Medical Bay

 

Dozens of wounded being wheeled the Medical Bay. Doctors and technicians quickly assessing their wounds and moving them into med pods. The experience from past battles Have honed their ability . There panic Just clinical Efficient execution of their duties.

 

The Princess arrives in the medical Bay and quickly moves define Wyatt . Seeing him with arm and leg cut off she quickly talk to the doctor and says . Lord Staples That’s priority in getting his cybernetic replacements. Tell the engineers I have made it a priority and the best engineering that they’re capable of in creating Cybernetic replacements .

 

The doctor replies With a deep bow Yes Your Majesty Baron Staples will immediate and best care possible.

 

The doctors the staff pause for a moment as they can feel the NorNavio jumping to hyperspace