In the days that followed, the Snowesians had gathered their forces. They were throwing every ship and soldier they had at the Fractured Remnants and this time... they were being led by their Emperor. The Emperor... a man who the Snowesian people worship as a god. The Snowesians entered F.T.L. heading to assault Xephos II. Once they'd entered F.T.L., the Emperor activated the fleets' many holo-projectors and gave his troops a speech. "This is Emperor Victaurus. My brave and mighty soldiers... each one of you carry the banner of the Snowesian Empire... MY EMPIRE. Your might shall crush these freedom-corrupted remnants. For today, witness the power, the might, the fullest of my iron fist... YOUR EMPEROR SHALL FIGHT WITH YOU!" Ships erupted into battle-cry cheers as the Snowesian exited FTL, and began their assault.
As Snowesians landed on the surface of Xephos II, Prescott manned a chaingun turret. Bullets and laser fire cutdown Snowesian forces, but there was no end to them. Remnant Squadrons clashed with unmanned drones all the while mechs and full platoons of riled-up Snowesians marched toward the Remnant's base camp. Prescott and the other Scotts held their position at the base camp's perimeter. Crescott piloted his "Dynamo", a hydraulic-piston mech much bulkier than the Snowesian mechs but far more durable and armored. The Dynamo was an old harvest-classed machine designed to harvest ores and precious metals from the depths of planets and asteroids. Now, it ripped through Snowesian mechs with an effortless ease. However, there was only a single dynamo, up against hordes of mechs. The other groups watched as Michigan and the Pacifics, Tyitanus, along side Prescott and the Scotts embodied the indominatable human spirit. The two groups pressed forward to meet the danger head on. Prescott two-handed the broken-mount chaingun, spitting molten orange rounds at the incoming invaders.
Arscott stayed close to him, firing offer her sniper rifle, punching through Snowesian armor as if it were made of cardboard. Her cybernetic eye gave her an accuracy ratio of hits-to-misses of 2000-2. Prescott and Arscott's movements became synchronized, as if dancing on the battlefield to the tune of bullets, plasma, ionized particles, and war all around them. Together, they pushed whole platoons of Snowesians back with plasma and projectiles ricocheting off of their C-Plutonium armor. However, the Emperor stepped off of his flagship. He wore blue-tinted white battle armor, his cosmic-void-like skin shimmered in the light of Xephos as he began to make his way toward the base camp. Prescott saw the Emperor heading straight for Michigan... "Jetscott! Cover Arscott, I'm intercepting their Emperor!" Said Prescott over his comm-link before dropping the chaingun, drawing the Saint Helen, then rushing toward the Emperor.
The Emperor cocked his fist back to strike a distracted Michigan, only to have Prescott jump onto his back, and force him backward, away from Michigan. As the two leaders stood up, the Emperor aligned his arm cannon center-mass on Prescott, who'd done the exact same with the Saint Helen. They fired in sync, but the C-Plutonium armor, Prescott wore, took the hit while the Emperor's armor had molten spots on it. "The Snowesian Imperium shall extinguish your flame of your freedom, you anarchial fool. Surrender, and the Imperium shall spare your civilians." Prescott clenched his fist. "My civilians... shall never know oppression, you goddamned fascist!" The two leaders clashed. Fist met by fist, kick met by kick, plasma cannon met by ionized laser-shotgun. Their battle created literal shockwaves that kept either sides' troops from interfering. Prescott and Emperor Victaurus fight harder their own troops. However, with a bionically-charged punch, the Emperor broke off part of Prescott's helmet.
Victaurus didn't let up. Each punch hitting harder than the next, depleting the integrity of Prescott's armor. With a swiftly timed drop-kick to the sternum, Victaurus sent Prescott flying back into the base camp's defensive outer wall. However, no matter how many hits the Emperor landed, how many kicks threw him across the battlefield... Prescott refused to stay down. Prescott's armor integrity was down to ten-percent, his breathing was heavily labored, he was bloody, battered and bruised, but he refused to stop, he fought his own body to keep fighting. Prescott let out a war cry as he rushed toward the Emperor, tackling the dictator to the ground. Prescott instantly turned the tables on the Emperor, once again implementing his nuclear gambit mind-chess strategy. Prescott's punches landed with a very prominent and audible, *WHAM!* However, a Snowesian Soldier, seeing Prescott attack his god, fired into Prescott, making him yell out in incredible pain. However, Arscott, seeing this soldier attack the man of which she'd slaughter whole galaxies for... lost control. She fired high-power explosive rounds into the soldier's chest, blowing him apart.
"FUCK ALL OF YOU!" She screamed unloading sniper rounds into anyone close to the on she loved with an obsessiveness unmatch by any. Once she'd run out of ammo... she rushed the Emperor, who'd gotten to his feet, in a dead-sprint. "YOU WILL NOT LAY A HAND ON MY LOVE!" Her talon-claw armor gauntlets raked across the Emperor's face, making him reel backward in copious agony. "FUCKING BITCH!" Yelled the Emperor, snatch her out of her mid-air jump attack, then began slamming her into the ground. Prescott, watching as Arscott was beaten, getting broken by this alien man, he knew what he had to do... Unsheathing his ionized KBar, his mind scream only a single order to every muscle, organ, nerve, and fiber of his being...KILL HIM. Prescott's footstep were rapid as enemy fire split the air all around him. Using a Snowesian soldier's neck as a stepping stone, Prescott leapt in to air, both hands wrapped around the hilt of his KBar, slammed the ionized, combat knife's blade into the back of the Emperor's neck.
However... the Emperor may have released Arscott from his grip, but he was far from dead. Victaurus unleashed his full might. His punches shattered the chestplate of Prescott's armor, but the Emperor didn't slow down. The Emperor unleashed everything he had, converting pain into might. By the time his was on the very of blacking out, Prescott was bruised, bloodied, but somehow still on his feet. However, rather than continue this battle, he grabbed Prescott by the damaged helmet and order retreat, taking Prescott as his prisoner. Despite Michigan and the Scott's best efforts... Prescott was taken to the Snowesian homeworld, a prisoner of war.