The clicking sound of twelve energy rifles cocking in unison was the loud, non negotiable definition of a trap.
"Nobody move," Kael whispered under his breath, his hands rising a few inches above his hips. His eyes scanned the strange weapons. The barrels didn't look like any standard Vanguard technology. They were constructed from polished white bone wrapped in crude iron wire, but the silver energy humming inside the chambers was blindingly bright. "Those rifles look custom, and they look incredibly warm."
The scarred woman named Vesper took two slow, measured steps forward. Her long, tattered cloak brushed against the glowing blue ferns as her sharp, golden eyes swept over the battered survivors. She didn't look at Elara first. Her gaze stopped directly on the dust covered, silver plated armor worn by Lucien and Kael. More specifically, she stared at the official falcon crest etched into their chest pieces.
