The Starweaver is a swift and elegant anti-grav transport, the means by which a Harlequin Troupe arrives upon the battlefield at the perfect moment to strike. Barely more than an open skimmer of curved blades and shimmering panels, it carries its passengers at reckless speed, protected less by armour than by the flickering holo-fields that shroud it and the sheer difficulty of landing a blow upon so nimble a craft.
A Starweaver races through the enemy's fire to deposit its Players exactly where they are needed, then banks away to harry the foe with its shuriken cannons or prismatic launchers. Its pilots are artists of speed, weaving their craft through impossible gaps, treating enemy fire as merely another element of the choreography. Where the Starweaver goes, the Dance follows, and the Players it delivers turn the tide of battle in a whirl of blades. Fragile yet almost impossible to catch, it is the vessel of the masque's lightning assaults, and the herald of the slaughter to come.