Short story that I have been working on. Any feedback or comments or criticism would be appreciated. Thanks
Part I: Firestorm
Scar awoke with a start. An alarm had sounded, the red lights the lit the interior of The Redemption were pulsing in a steady rhythm. A growling voice came to life over the ship’s internal intercom “All hands report to battle stations. All those of Elite status are required on the bridge. Internal security, prepare to repel boarders.” The intercom died with a crackle. Scar Tryagar III jumped out of his bunk, threw on his uniform, grabbed his highly illegal, pirate standard issue M2-B sidearm, and grabbed his security ID cards and cautiously opened the bulkhead door. Outside of his bunk room was a flurry of activity, pirates entering keycodes, grabbing small arms, and securing entryways. Good, he thought to himself. At least they had managed to get out of the bunks on time. Wait you might ask-pirates grabbing sidearms good? Scar with a highly illegal weapon? This isn’t the story of brave military warriors fighting pirates-this is the story of the pirates perspective.
Scar walked briskly from his stateroom. Lower ranking pirates snapped to attention and then quickly returned to their work. It felt good to be near the top of his respective rank, Scar thought. He had fearlessly climbed those ranks-starting at the bottom of the hierarchy. He was still working his way up, as he wondered what the Captain had sounded the alarm for. Even pirates have a rank system. Scar was a special operative flight leader. He had started at the bottom as a rookie pilot, escorting smuggler freighters. Now he was in charge of special ops flights for the pirates. But Scar had not always been a pirate, he thought to himself as he continued walking through the flurry of activity. He had been a decorated Argon military pilot-even though his father had been a pirate. Which of course the Argon found out, and accused him, Scar, of a crime he did not commit. If it hadn’t been for the pirates raiding the prisoner transport he was on, he would still be behind bars. Scar’s mind snapped back to the present. Now wasn’t the time to reminisce on the past. He looked out one of the viewports, his reflection looking back at him intermittently while the red lights pulsed. It was the action stations alarm.
The Redemption is a highly armed ship. As are all pirate ships, including freighters. But this ship was special-it was the first design for a pirate Corvette class ship. It had two side turret hardpoints, a rear turret, and an upper turret, as well as forward firing main laser banks. It could dock one ship below-that ship being Scar’s. Which of course contained almost as much illegal software as the Redemption including, but not limited to ship capture equipment, freight scanners, software signature scramblers…Scar reached the security checkpoint. Two Pirate checkpoint guards eyed him suspiciously and asked for identification. He produced his identification-immediately the guards snapped to attention, entered a 10 digit code, and the door to the bridge slid open. Carefully picking his way across the bridge, were several technicians sat in front of glowing, computer systems, Scar turned to face the Captain of the ship.
Captain Agnar Bathalmew IV turned in his chair. “Good. Glad you came.” He noticed Scar looking for the other elites, and pointed to the ships flying in formation outside The Redemption. “They have already transported to their vessels, with instructions to protect this ship. Im sure you are desperate to learn of the situation”, he said, turning in his chair to his command console. His fingers quickly pressed several keys. After pressing them, a large screen slid down and a flurry of numbers and odd looking symbols flew across the screen. Next, appeared several Boron class ships. “It seems…that the Boron have decided to enter our sector, with a patrol fleet. They spotted us and are racing towards us. Currently, we are facing a Ray, which, according to our most recent cargo scan, contains a formidable wing of M3, M4 and M5 fighters. It is being escorted by two Military class Hydras. This is a serious issue. The speed of these Hydras have been enhanced to catch our vessels. We cant outrun them. We cant jump because the raiding party isn’t completely equipped with jumpdrives, and this corvette can only dock one ship at a time-we haven’t the fuel or the time for that. The nearest carrier is busy dealing with other Boron nuisances. So its just us. I was hoping you might have a suggestion or an idea-you are very talented in that department”. Agnar took a deep breath. “I need your help” he said cooly.
Scar ran all this through his mind-the Captain asking for his help. It was a big step, and he needed to be able to work this situation correctly. If he failed, he was sure his fate would meet him in the nearest airlock. The Captain had no patience for failures. Yet if he succeded….images of commanding his own corvette came to mind. “Captain…that freighter flying in formation with us, the Split freighter we captured…what is it carrying? You never disclosed its contents…and you forbid freight scanning it.”
The Captain grimaced, “I was counting on selling its contents. We are running out of cargo to tribute to the upper ranks of the Black Crest. It contains several braces of hornet missiles, silkworm missiles, and other high yield explosives, including a few hammerhead and beluga class warheads.”
Scar thought hard on this. This would be enough to bring down the Boron fleet, but would cause internal strife. “What about that Yaki ship we captured…it has a boost extension-you know about that right? I learned all about them while I was in the Argon Military.”
The Captain's eyes lit up, “Of course...I had forgotten... Why didn’t you tell me this earlier boy! Scar, get to your ship and prepare to defend the Redemption. Ill send our engineering crew to work on that ship and see if we cant install that boost extension into this vessel-we would be able to run just far enough to get to the neighboring system..-“ he was cut off when the viewscreen was obstructed by plasma fire. A siren wailed as the shields began to dip. “Warning, incoming transporter beacons” a computerized voiced echoed throughout the ship.
“Scar you know your job-get to it!”, he said, then picked up the comms “Crew we have incoming boarding parties, prepare to defend the ship. Missile crews, put some hot hornets in the tubes. Gunner crews are to get a firing solution. “. He looked down to the crew in the bridge “Turn the ship about, head for the south gate, throttles 100%, instruct the fleet to follow and engage if engaged. Do not stray more then 5km from the ship. Do it!” he snapped. Then he looked at Scar-“Why are you still here pilot! You have your orders, get your ass down in that cockpit”.
Scar snapped to attention then ran from the bridge, pushing past the guards on his way out. Suddenly there was a large blast and the ship rocked violently. “Boarding parties” he thought to himself. Luckily the Boron weren’t the greatest at attempting to board vessels-he almost laughed thinking of the fish like race flopping onto the deck. Pirates were running through the halls, seizing small arms and taking up defensive positions. Scar took a right, running through the chaos, weapons fire echoing in the hall as he slid through a high security field, opened a hatch, climbed through the airlock, and strapped himself in his fighter. As he undocked from the corvette, he left the safety of the corvette grade shields. Now it was up to him to protect the corvette long enough to escape out the gate. Scar punched the throttles to full speed, did an instrument scan, flipped a few switches which enabled his nose turret to missile defense and his upper turret to ship defense. Pulling the stick back, he did a loop around the nose of the Redemption, flying dangerously close to shake any tails, and spotted his first target. The Barracuda, a M3 class Boron ship, was spewing laser fire into the rear of the Corvette, trying to bring down her shields. Scar hurled his Kea at full speed, gripping the flight stick tightly. Quickly removing a gloved hand from the flight stick, he flipped the protective clear cover on his missile control panel, waited for the lock on sound from his heat seeking thunderbolt missile warheads, and hit the release button. Seconds later a heat seeking missile roared from his Kea's primary launch tube and punched into the Barracuda, sending it reeling. The pilot ejected-but Scar had learned not to take pity. Checking his six for attackers, he quickly brought down his shields, opened his cargo bay, and scooped up the ejected boron. One slave brought in for the day-should fetch a nice 2k credits. He eagerly eyed his fallen ship but knew he would have to wait until after the battle to fetch his prize. He was jerked abruptly back into the battle at the beeping of his Combat Information System (stolen from an Argon Centuar) as a Hornet missile came ripping at his Kea. One hornet would have the power to reduce his shields to less then half strength-but rather then try to outrun the missile, he swung his ship to directly face it, and flew straight at the missile. His lower turret nabbed it, the explosion impacting his shields, and caught a small Boron M5 off guard, which immediately exploded into space dust. Yelling a whoop of excitement, Scar wheeled his Kea around, looking for his next prey. He punched the keys on his CIS and a display lowered, showing the nearest target. A Boron Corvette, a Hydra was quickly approaching. Scar grimaced, and whirled around. He flipped his turret keys to attack his target, and rushed head on at the Hydra, coming down at a 45 degree angle. This would position him in the Hydra’s blind spot. As he swooped below the lumbering corvette, his turrets auto tracked and opened fire, denting the opposing ships shields. Scar turned a dial, turning on his freight scanner. A radiological alarm sounded-it appeared the Hydra was packing an array of firestorm torpedoes. He looked in alarm-several hatches on the top surface of the Hydra hissed open, 5 missile ramps extended. He looked in shock as the torpedoes slowly raised themselves out of their shielded silos into a launch position. Scar set his jaw as he whipped the Kea around behind the Hydra, and activated his ion disruptor.
The funny thing is that the Boron actually invented the Ion Disruptor. Not that this was an issue or anything-its was rather comical that he was using the Boron’s own weapons against them. Electrical currents whipped about the Hydra-this at least prevented them from unleashing hell from their missile hardpoints-any missiles launched from the ship would explode from his ion attack. He let off the ion attack and glanced at his missile fire control panel and let loose a salvo of disruptor missiles. Disruptor missiles are a pirate invention. As they slam into an opposing ship, they set off an electrical interference wave, destroying onboard equipment, and crippling shields. Scar fired seven of these missiles, all of them hitting true. The Hydra’s shields buckled, its energy weapons depleted drastically. Scar took his chance and fired a hornet missile, which slammed into the Hydra, bringing about a spectacular explosion. Scar’s face lit up in the explosion as he avoided flying flaming chunks of the doomed borons. One M6 down…one left. Scar knew that the Ray would leave if it lost its M6 escort-the Boron were cautious creatures. He couldn’t explain this to the Captain, and he knew that the Captain would not be able to solve the boost extension problem in time. Scar took command of the situation. Flipping a switch on his comm set, he tuned into the pirate fighter defense channel and barked into the headset “All Novas and Blastclaws on me. M4’s cover us. M5’s take out those missiles headed towards the Redemption. Move it!”. Scar heard the complies of the fighters (his fighters he thought) and glanced in the direction of the incoming ray. It had, as he suspected, fired of a salvo of missiles. He only hoped that the M5’s could get there in time. But that wasn’t his role, he thought has he made a beeline for the Hydra, which was currently firing a steady stream of plasma bolts at a wounded Nova. Scar flipped his comms button and ordered a missile launch at the Hyrda, while communicating to the Redemption warning about the incoming missiles. At once, an array of missiles, silkworm, hornet, and disruptor missiles lept from his fighter wing, streaking towards the Boron. The Boron had little time to react, but had managed to deflect at least a quarter of the incoming missiles. But that wasn’t enough. The Hydra crackled with intense electrical surges. To his surprise the crew bailed, which of course, the pirates swept upon like vultures. He immediately activated his salvage claim software, alerted the Redemption of his prize, and ordered the Hydra’s computer systems to follow the Redemption. Just as he predicted, the Ray did an about face, recalled its fighters, and jumped from the sector. Scar exhaled a deep breath, and turned back to the Corvette that he was tasked to protect.
After looting the abandoned Boron ships and capturing slaves, he commanded his Hydra to follow the fleet. He teleported his slaves into the Redemption’s cargo hold and made his way briskly back to the bridge. On his way he noticed the aftermath of the battle. Sparks flew freely from damaged control boxes. Bodies lay strewn across the floor with the survivors attempting to distinguish friend from foe on the bloody metallic deck. Scar walked abit faster as he continued through the series of remaining checkpoints. He had to take a detour when his usual route was damaged-it seemed that the Redemption had taken a massive amount of hull damage-the red route (the passageway that lead directly to the bridge) had suffered severe decompression and was out of order. Scar, having lived and fought on this ship for years, took another route. The scene in the bridge wasn’t much better. Everywhere on the damage control displays were blinking red lights. He took a quick look at the nearest unit. It seemed that the Boron had concentrated the majority of their fire onto the neck connecting the bridge of the ship to the rest of the ship itself. Some of the ship’s weapon systems were offline. Luckily the jumpdrive and the engines themselves had suffered little damage, he noticed scanning the damage display board. He walked up to the Captain’s helm.
“Sir”, Scar began, “We have destroyed one Hydra and I have captured another. I disabled its weapons and it is following the Redemption. I also took several prisoners, who are now being interrogated below deck. The Hydra I captured is in good shape. “ he added, a hopeful tone in his voice. Scar secretly hoped to be given command of the captured corvette..though he knew the possibility of this was slim.
“Scar…you did excellent out there. We are lucky to be alive because of you. I know you want command of that ship, but you and I both know that we lack the crew to do so. We are going to use the components of that ship for a special project we are working on..however I think you will like the results of the completion of this project. Which brings me to my next point” he added, “ You are being promoted today, based on your skill in handling this incident and the passion you showed, and the teamwork I witnessed. Instead of taking the last Hydra on your own, you brought your wingmates and you sent the remaining fighters out to protect this corvette. We did take significant hull damage as I am sure you have noticed. It will delay our journey. However we will make it to a Teladi shipyard and be repaired. As for you, I recommend that you get some rest. Then I want you to beam onto the Hydra with a boarding crew and take anything that interests you. If you find survivors, take them prisoner. Take what you can and give nothing back, “he finished, a glint in his eye.
Scar nodded his understanding and trudged his way back to his cabin.
After having gotten his deserved rest, he called up his special ops group. He and this group of four other spec ops soldiers went to the pirate armory. This was always Scar’s favorite place-in it were the galaxy famed MB-2 blasters…along with several more hand weapons. After taking their pick of the weapons for the journey, they all simultaneously stepped into the transporters and beamed into the Hydra. An hour later they reemerged back into the Redemption. They had come back mostly empty handed. The ship was completely deserted. Scar brought back a small server containing a system map database. Nothing else perked his interest.
Scar woke up startled, again. The siren was going off, and once again the lights pulsed a deep flowing red. A voice sounded over the speaker system “Attention all hands, action stations, incoming Argon fighter wing”. Scar quickly grabbed his flight gear and his trusty MB-2’s and ran to the bridge. Upon reaching the bridge, the Captain turned briskly and said, “Not today Scar. Today we run.”
[STORY] A Pirate's Tale
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Black_Sails
- Posts: 95
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Part II: Manual Labor
A quick series of lights were flashing. Ships jumping into the sector. It appeared the Boron’s deaths did not go unnoticed and the Argon were quick to back up their fish like friends. “I have a special mission for you. Beam that jumpdrive from the Boron vessel into your Kea and install it, as quickly as possible. You will jump to this sector” he pointed at a starmap ”And you will alert our destroyer battlegroup. I think our friends, the Goner Slavers will be interested in bringing down the Argon. Quickly now-theres not much time. Take these identification codes and send them straight away. They include our current position and an encoded message. Go Scar!”
Scar grabbed the card containing the encrypted message and ran to his fighter. He jumped in, ran back to the transporter room, and transported the jumpdrive on board. After quickly installing it, he ran back to the flight cabin, and took a look of his surroundings before strapping himself in and undocking from the Redemption. It seemed the battle had already begun. Nova’s and Busters were screaming right towards the Redemption. Scar flipped the switches into the engine start up sequence, undocked, and boosted away from the battle. Once safely away, he activated his jumpdrive.
After shooting through a rather uncomfortable spacejump, he squinted outside his cockpit. The sector was clouded with interference from the nebaluea, it appeared that the destroyer was nowhere in sight. All that was in this sector…was space debris. He checked his personally enhanced gravidar. It was too difficult to make anything out, it was like searching through a bowl of thick soup. But something just wasn’t….right. He rolled over and did an old fashioned eyeballing of the sector. There he saw, was the remainder of the destroyer. Scar’s jaw dropped in shock. One of the most powerful pirate destroyer’s was now just a lump of cold twisted steel. The Goner Slavers were a particlary powerful pirate band-they had used a specially modified Argon Titan for combat. The hull was badly damaged, the engines were nothing more then a slowly burning hulk, blaster scoring scarred the surface, and the bridge was completely blown off the ship. The hangar bay appeared to be intact, though damaged. Scar swiveled around in his chair, surveying his life detection systems, and scanned the ship. Suprisingly, he picked up multiple lifeforms. He gently throttled the Kea closer towards the remains of the destroyer. Perhaps some of the crew had survived..
An Argon voice crackled over his comms system “Approaching ship, Identify yourself”. Scar was shocked as a Centaur came out from lurking behind the wreckage. His computer board glowed red-the Centaur was attempting to scan his ship’s cargo contents, Scar quickly punched a button activating his cargo bay shielding. He had 5 seconds before the Centaur’s scan would break into his cargo bay. His ship, The Curse had a verbose computer- “Warning, scan deflection weakening. 5….”
Scar attempted to outmaneuver the Centaur, when suddenly a green beam of light lept out from the Centaur and made contact with The Curse. “Damn it!”, Scar pounded his fist on the control panel. Tractor beams, he thought, disgusted.
His ship computer continued, “Scan deflection disrupted. Cargo bay has been scanned”.
There was no hope in fooling the centaur-his ship bore the markings of a man dedicated to a life of crime. Scar fought the tractor beam violently, and was about to attempt to fire hornets at the Centuar, when his alarm sirens wailed as ion beams danced out from the turrets on the Centaur. His ship was temporarily crippled.
“Warning. Shields damaged. 125 MW shield..Destroyed”, his computer said calmly. He couldn’t open fire on the Centaur now-not without risking an explosion too close to his ship and destroying his now seemingly pathetic existence. If only he could crank up the engines and activate his jump drives. Wait…he thought to himself…only his powered systems were damaged. His eyes glanced down at the instrument panel as the computer lights slowly flickered off. He looked towards the Centaur. He was rapidly approaching the ship, and he had but on option left. Suddenly the tractor beam disappeared. He heard his comms crackle once more to life, “Attention…pilo…prepare…be…boarded…Surrend” his radio gave a feeble attempt and died. He had but one option, in the event that something like this might happen, he had installed a manually, crank controlled, heavily modified hornet missile. One hit from that missile and the Centuar would erupt into flames….He knew that the Centaur would be powering down its shields to beam troops over into his ship. He only had a matter of time before his ship was overwhelmed with federation marines.
Scar unbuckled himself from his seat and squeezed his way into a crawlspace. He took off the vent covering and slid open a shielded viewport. To his right was a weapon of his own invention. The weapon was in all practicallity a slingshot-only instead of throwing pebbles he would be throwing a nuclear warhead. This way the missile would give off no heat signature as it would shoot out off this special launch tube. Directly in front of him was his viewport with a crude crosshair marked into the thick glass. The missile was a risky shot-it had been tweaked to explode immediately on contact. It was a simple push button design-as the tip of the missile impacted on an object, the missiles computer system booted to life and detonated the warhead. Fast..undetectable...deadly.
He winded back the missile using a special crank system. The missile wiggled dangerously against its restraints-one bump against the missile launch tube and the Curse would cease to exist. Satisified, Scar lowered a bar, locking the missile in place. He looked back at his crudely made crosshair. He eyed the Centaur through the crosshair...it was still slowly moving into place.
Scar grunted as he strained to manually open the missiles launch tube. The metal scraped loudly as it slid open. Good, he thought. Everythings ready...now to just aim the damn thing. He looked back out the viewport, straining his eyes at the military Centaur. Excellent…the Centaur’s belly was fully exposed-a blind spot, and they wouldn’t expect an attack from The Curse. Scar strained on the heavy crank, rotating the missile launcher to bear onto the Centaur. He couldn’t risk activating the missiles targeting computer-it would alert the Centaur crew. It would have to be a blind shot. The Centaur drifted to a stop. Scar knew he only had seconds to fire before the marines arrived. He took a deep breath, and depressed the firing trigger. Upon pressing the trigger, the latch released and the missile launched from the Curse without having to ignite its thrusters as it slingshoted from Scar’s ship. The missile had been tweaked to erupt on contact…it was a sensitive situation. It was out of his hands now, he thought as he crawled back through the crawlspace. He stepped out and ran to his weapons locker, keyed in a code, and grabbed his pistols, just in case a few marines managed to make it before the Centaur exploded. He was just about to enter his cockpit when his ship rocked violently. Scar tripped howling in pain as his face slammed into the back of his flight seat and he toppled over onto the deck. Everything went black.
A quick series of lights were flashing. Ships jumping into the sector. It appeared the Boron’s deaths did not go unnoticed and the Argon were quick to back up their fish like friends. “I have a special mission for you. Beam that jumpdrive from the Boron vessel into your Kea and install it, as quickly as possible. You will jump to this sector” he pointed at a starmap ”And you will alert our destroyer battlegroup. I think our friends, the Goner Slavers will be interested in bringing down the Argon. Quickly now-theres not much time. Take these identification codes and send them straight away. They include our current position and an encoded message. Go Scar!”
Scar grabbed the card containing the encrypted message and ran to his fighter. He jumped in, ran back to the transporter room, and transported the jumpdrive on board. After quickly installing it, he ran back to the flight cabin, and took a look of his surroundings before strapping himself in and undocking from the Redemption. It seemed the battle had already begun. Nova’s and Busters were screaming right towards the Redemption. Scar flipped the switches into the engine start up sequence, undocked, and boosted away from the battle. Once safely away, he activated his jumpdrive.
After shooting through a rather uncomfortable spacejump, he squinted outside his cockpit. The sector was clouded with interference from the nebaluea, it appeared that the destroyer was nowhere in sight. All that was in this sector…was space debris. He checked his personally enhanced gravidar. It was too difficult to make anything out, it was like searching through a bowl of thick soup. But something just wasn’t….right. He rolled over and did an old fashioned eyeballing of the sector. There he saw, was the remainder of the destroyer. Scar’s jaw dropped in shock. One of the most powerful pirate destroyer’s was now just a lump of cold twisted steel. The Goner Slavers were a particlary powerful pirate band-they had used a specially modified Argon Titan for combat. The hull was badly damaged, the engines were nothing more then a slowly burning hulk, blaster scoring scarred the surface, and the bridge was completely blown off the ship. The hangar bay appeared to be intact, though damaged. Scar swiveled around in his chair, surveying his life detection systems, and scanned the ship. Suprisingly, he picked up multiple lifeforms. He gently throttled the Kea closer towards the remains of the destroyer. Perhaps some of the crew had survived..
An Argon voice crackled over his comms system “Approaching ship, Identify yourself”. Scar was shocked as a Centaur came out from lurking behind the wreckage. His computer board glowed red-the Centaur was attempting to scan his ship’s cargo contents, Scar quickly punched a button activating his cargo bay shielding. He had 5 seconds before the Centaur’s scan would break into his cargo bay. His ship, The Curse had a verbose computer- “Warning, scan deflection weakening. 5….”
Scar attempted to outmaneuver the Centaur, when suddenly a green beam of light lept out from the Centaur and made contact with The Curse. “Damn it!”, Scar pounded his fist on the control panel. Tractor beams, he thought, disgusted.
His ship computer continued, “Scan deflection disrupted. Cargo bay has been scanned”.
There was no hope in fooling the centaur-his ship bore the markings of a man dedicated to a life of crime. Scar fought the tractor beam violently, and was about to attempt to fire hornets at the Centuar, when his alarm sirens wailed as ion beams danced out from the turrets on the Centaur. His ship was temporarily crippled.
“Warning. Shields damaged. 125 MW shield..Destroyed”, his computer said calmly. He couldn’t open fire on the Centaur now-not without risking an explosion too close to his ship and destroying his now seemingly pathetic existence. If only he could crank up the engines and activate his jump drives. Wait…he thought to himself…only his powered systems were damaged. His eyes glanced down at the instrument panel as the computer lights slowly flickered off. He looked towards the Centaur. He was rapidly approaching the ship, and he had but on option left. Suddenly the tractor beam disappeared. He heard his comms crackle once more to life, “Attention…pilo…prepare…be…boarded…Surrend” his radio gave a feeble attempt and died. He had but one option, in the event that something like this might happen, he had installed a manually, crank controlled, heavily modified hornet missile. One hit from that missile and the Centuar would erupt into flames….He knew that the Centaur would be powering down its shields to beam troops over into his ship. He only had a matter of time before his ship was overwhelmed with federation marines.
Scar unbuckled himself from his seat and squeezed his way into a crawlspace. He took off the vent covering and slid open a shielded viewport. To his right was a weapon of his own invention. The weapon was in all practicallity a slingshot-only instead of throwing pebbles he would be throwing a nuclear warhead. This way the missile would give off no heat signature as it would shoot out off this special launch tube. Directly in front of him was his viewport with a crude crosshair marked into the thick glass. The missile was a risky shot-it had been tweaked to explode immediately on contact. It was a simple push button design-as the tip of the missile impacted on an object, the missiles computer system booted to life and detonated the warhead. Fast..undetectable...deadly.
He winded back the missile using a special crank system. The missile wiggled dangerously against its restraints-one bump against the missile launch tube and the Curse would cease to exist. Satisified, Scar lowered a bar, locking the missile in place. He looked back at his crudely made crosshair. He eyed the Centaur through the crosshair...it was still slowly moving into place.
Scar grunted as he strained to manually open the missiles launch tube. The metal scraped loudly as it slid open. Good, he thought. Everythings ready...now to just aim the damn thing. He looked back out the viewport, straining his eyes at the military Centaur. Excellent…the Centaur’s belly was fully exposed-a blind spot, and they wouldn’t expect an attack from The Curse. Scar strained on the heavy crank, rotating the missile launcher to bear onto the Centaur. He couldn’t risk activating the missiles targeting computer-it would alert the Centaur crew. It would have to be a blind shot. The Centaur drifted to a stop. Scar knew he only had seconds to fire before the marines arrived. He took a deep breath, and depressed the firing trigger. Upon pressing the trigger, the latch released and the missile launched from the Curse without having to ignite its thrusters as it slingshoted from Scar’s ship. The missile had been tweaked to erupt on contact…it was a sensitive situation. It was out of his hands now, he thought as he crawled back through the crawlspace. He stepped out and ran to his weapons locker, keyed in a code, and grabbed his pistols, just in case a few marines managed to make it before the Centaur exploded. He was just about to enter his cockpit when his ship rocked violently. Scar tripped howling in pain as his face slammed into the back of his flight seat and he toppled over onto the deck. Everything went black.
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Black_Sails
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Wed, 1. Aug 07, 06:35
Part III: Recollections
Malias Kingford III stared forward unblinkingly as the commander of the 35th Argon Federation Pilot Training Command stood before the assembled cadets. It was graduation day- Malias had just completed pilot training and was at his pinning on ceremony. He hadn’t done too bad either- 12th out of 500 pilots. He wondered what his dad….no..he wouldn’t think about his dad right now. His father was a notorious pirate-Malias hoped that he wouldn’t have to face him one day. Malias pushed the thought out of his mind as he continued to listen to the commander. “Congratulations newly approved pilots of the Argon Federation Military. Pilots, fall out and report to your assigned flight leader for assignment. Dismissed.”
Malias took two steps back, and turned on his heel falling out of formation. He felt the weight of those wonderful gold wings on his uniform-he had strived through years at the academy for this day. He pulled his assignment sheet out of his uniform pocket. It read, “Report to Captain “Striker”, Deck 5, briefing room 221B”. The Argon Collosus was a large vessel. The ceremony had been held in flight deck B on Deck 2. Malias walked briskly among the crowd of excited pilots as he made his way to the turbolift. “Deck 5” he said clearly to the computer controlled lift. “Affirmative, proceeding to deck 5”. The doors whisked shut and the turbolift shot up to the upper deck. Upon reaching the deck, Malias searched for his assigned room. He found it with ease and walked in confidently.
Something was wrong-the room was almost empty. Malias thought for sure that he would have been at least assigned to a Buster Vanguard group-but the image of a Discoverer Raider was projected on the main viewscreen in the briefing room. Malias spotted the Captain, and snapped to attention. “Lt. Malias Kingford reporting in sir”. “At ease” Captain “Striker” said softly. “As youll notice, Lt., you have been assigned to a Discoverer escort wing. Although you have a brilliant training record…it appears you have a category 5 background check. You lack the clearance for a heavy fighter. Take a seat.”
Malias felt a wave of anger. Years at the academy-to become a light fighter escort? “Sir-why do I have a category 5 flag?”. “Well Lt. it appears a direct relative of yours is a notorious pirate.” The Captain tapped a few keys on the control console, brining up an image of his father, behind him, the crest of his pirate faction, along with the ship he was last seen in. “It appears your father-the pirate known as “Zero” was last spotted in a pirate sector attacking argon military transports. This of course, places you in a category 5, which prevents you from flying any vessel that has classified material on board. But of course you knew this-didn’t you?”, the Captain said, sneering at Malias. “You should consider yourself lucky for even wearing those wings Lt. If it were my choice-you would be wearing a single stripe on your shoulder and you would be in the enlisted quarters cleaning up after the crew”, he spat.
He struggled to calm himself. After having just been insulted, Malias felt the urge to beat down the Captain. But he knew that would only reaffirm the Captain’s suspicions.
Scar struggled to sit up, as he did he felt a searing pain go through his head. He thought he could smell something burning. As he tried to stand, he slipped and fell again into unconsciousness. His mind once again went blank.
“Lt. Malias your assignment is to escort the energy transport from sector Home of Light to our border patrol corvette in Elena’s Fortune. The Corvette is in need of a top off so that she can jump back to core Argon space to undergo repairs. The Pirate attacks have been ruthless. After the Corvette jumps back to core argon sectors, you are to remain with the patrol force and maintain sector security until the replacement force can jump in. You will fly under my flight lead, along with 4 other discoverers, and 3 busters. You are required to shoot pirates on sight. Any other target requires my authorization. Report to the flight deck immediately to being the mission. Rendevouz point is in sector Home of Light. Upon launch wait for the rest of the flight and stay in formation. Your assigned Discoverer is ALF-0034C. Dismissed.”
“Yes sir”, Malias said, saluting smartly, and marching out of the room. At least he would more then likely get a stab at combat, he thought grimly. His thoughts lingered on his pirate father….Malias struggled to once again push the thought from his mind.
After what seemed hours of walking through the enormous ship, Malias arrived at the flight ready room. He quickly donned his flight gear and reported to the flight deck. The flight bay was even larger-after all, the Collosus was the primary carrier in the fleet. He walked briskly to the computer terminal and entered in his aircraft designation. A-L-F—0-0-3-4-C. “Please report to docking berth 2. Activate the Discoverer and contact mission flight control for further instructions”, the console said calmly. Malias walked over to docking berth 2-the shortest walk he had all day. He checked his gear-everything was good to go. Punching the button to access his cockpit, he climbed the ladder positioned beside his fighter and slid into the cockpit. He once again felt the familiar security of being inside a fighter. His eyes scanned over the instrument board. At least he had gotten a fairly new discoverer, he thought to himself. He attached his helmet, fired up his engines, and contacted mission flight control. “MFC, this is ALF-0034C reporting for escort mission Bravo Charlie. Requesting instructions.” His comms system crackled back in response, “ALF-0034C report to launch tube Alpha.” Malias replied, “ALF-0034C reporting to launch tube Alpha. Confirmed”. He gently eased back the throttle, not wanting to screw up on his first mission. The Discoverer came to life and reacted instantly. He made his way to the launch tube and waited for the blast doors to open. “MFC this is ALF-0034C requesting permission to launch”. “ALF-0034C permission granted, blast doors opening, cleared for launch.”. “ALF-0034C launch confirmed.” He replied. His ship entered the airlock designed for fighter launches. The first blastdoor secured behind him. In front of him was a light indicating when it was safe to launch, along with another blast door. The blast door snapped open, and the light glowed green. Malias punched his throttles in full as he was instructed back at the academy and zipped the little discoverer out of the Collosus.
Scar’s head ached as he feebly attempted to stand up once again. He felt an overwhelming sensation as he once again crashed to the floor. He let out a groan of agony as his mind once again slipped away from him. Memories of his past once again filled his thoughts.
He had met with his assigned flight and met up with the tanker that he was to escort to Elena’s Fortune. “Now Entering sector ELENA’s FORTUNE” his computer said in a matter of factly tone. Immediately a proximity alarm sounded in his ship. His ship computer autotracked the nearest enemy. Malias power up his weapons systems and took a look around the sector. The border sector was flooded with a pirate raiding party. He saw vessels that he had never recognized before, along with the familiar modified teladi vessels and the pirate versions of the Buster and the Nova. The rest of his flight entered the sector through the gate. His comms crackled with the voice of his flight lead-who was piloting a Nova Sentinel. “Flight on me, we need to mop up this pirate group before they catch sight of the tanker.” Against his instincts, Malias argued back to his flight lead” Sir, there are too many. My ship computer reports in 3 Pirate Novas, 5 Pirate Busters, and 2 Pirate Falcons, along with 1 unkown M3.” “Its your baptism of fire Malias-all fighters on me. Charge lasers banks. Prepare to engage-they haven’t seemed to notice us yet.” The flight leader was correct on that at least-the raiding party was too busy dismantling the damaged corvette. The corvette feebly returned fire, but in a matter of moments, a blinding flash of light temporarily blinded Malias. The corvette which they were assigned to protect was gone. Malias knew that this flight stood no chance to defeating the pirates-he also knew that the stubborn flight lead wouldn’t back down. The sector security was already blown to pieces-they had to hold the sector for 30 mizuras before the relief force would arrive.
Just need to stay alive…he thought to himself. “Warning scan detected” the discover’ers computer warned. “Incoming missile”, and a missile warning beep went off-but it was too late, as a disruptor missile slammed into the nose of his discoverer. The missile must have been modified-everything on board the ship instantly died. His engines buckled and failed, the shield generator was going critical, and his radios were damaged. Malias watched helplessely as he tumbled in space while the rest of his flight was demolished by the pirates.
20 Mizuras later, all that remained of escort Alpha Bravo was Malias, and his power was still gone. The Discoverer drifted in space-apparently the pirates weren’t concerned as the jumped out of the sector. A few mizuras later the relief force jumped in. The only power source emminating from Malias’s discoverer was his distress beacon-luckily he was located and hauled aboard.
Malias was shocked at the reaction of the crew onboard the corvette. Everyone was highly suspicious as to why he survived but everyone else died. Rumours of pirate affiliation spread quickly through the ship. Malias’s background was a poorly kept secret. A few days later Malias found himself aboard a prison transport headed towards a remote sector for accusations of pirate conspiracy.
Malias’s mind fast-fowarded. Pirates had attacked the prison transport. They were reading through the ship’s cargo manuscript when they located his name. The pirates had left the prisoner’s in their cells-the ship was apparently rerouted for the nearest pirate base, where the pirates would make the prisoners into slaves. A battlescarred Argon walked up to Malias’s cell. “Appears you’re the Reaper’s son. Ill make this short. Your dad’s dead. He was killed by that corvette you were trying to save. He’s left you his will. You have two options. Join us-or die.” Malias quickly chose the first of the two-he as of the moment hated the argon military for falsely accusing him, and he preffered to live. “Thought that would be the case,” the scarred pirate said softly, “Hes left you The Curse, a prototype heavy fighter, and entrance into his pirate faction, along with 2 million credits. If youll follow me this way, Malias.”
Scar’s eyes snapped open. He had been dreaming-of his past. He looked about himself alertly. Scar was lying on the floor of his ship-the burning smell brought back his memory. He had just manually launched a missile at the centaur when it all went black. He slowly raised himself-the headache seemed to have gotten better. Grasping the wall for support, he looked around. The emergency power was on-a dim red light flooded the interior of his ship. “Computer, status report”. Apparently power was back- “Shields disabled. Hull integrity at 51%”. Damn. He had taken a beating. Walking slowly to the cockpit he lowered himself slowly into the seat and took a look at his damage control board. His jumpdrive was damaged. His shields were gone. His turrets were disabled. Only 4 of his 8 primary laser banks were functioning. And it appeared there was a lifeform in the cargo bay. Just great he thought to himself…can things get any worse? “Warning, hull buckling in cargo bay section C”. Not good. Now he would not only have to handle the stowaway, but also patch up his hull. He tried to clear his head. No matter what he tried to do he couldn’t get rid of the burning sensation. Sighing, he stood up, unholstered his pistols, clicked off the safety’s and made his way to the cargo bay. He walked quietly up to the blast doors. Scar peered cautiously through the small built in viewport on the door. His suspicions were confirmed-it seemed there was a marine on board. A marine who seemed busy planting…explosives. Scar’s heart skipped a beat. He slammed his fist on the blast door control panel and aimed both pistols at the marine. “Stop or Ill blow your cursed brains all over the deck” Scar hissed at the marine. The soldier looked up at Scar, a weapon in his hand. Scar didn’t take in chances, he quickly fired both pistols, averting his face as blood misted all over in the gravityless cargo bay. Least that’s taken care of..he thought to himself. Grabbing a repair kit, he started patching up the hull. After his work was done, he stripped the marine of any valuables and kicked his body into his airlock. A touch of a button and the body whooshed out into space.
Now, back to figuring out what to do with his crippled fighter. At least his engines still functioned. Scar eased forward the throttles carefully. He would have to proceed with extreme caution-he had no shields. He scanned the sector for anything of use, but all he could see was the damaged Pirate warship. It seemed the only option. He scanned the ship again-the hangar deck was still apparently intact. Scar set his course for the warship, and cautiously approached the docking bay. He sighed, and sent forward the encrypted message he was originally supposed to deliver to this warship. Suddenly the crippled warship shuddered, like a chameleon changing colors, and from out of the smoldering wreck emerged a pirate warship. It slid gracefully from the wreck-it was nothing Scar had ever seen. It was this ship’s docking bay that Scar had scanned. Suddenly it all made sense to him. That’s why he was to send the encryption codes. It was all part of the plan-some sort of camoflauge this pirate group used. But still something was off. If the Pirate ship had been here all along, surely it would have assisted him against the Centuar. Scar attempted to comm the vessel, but no response came. He set a docking course for the destroyer. While coming closer in his effort to dock, he noticed that this destroyer had several blaster scorings all along the exterior hull plating. Apparently it had come under attack-perhaps it had been abandoned? Scar was puzzled. He continued on his course. The hangar doors opened and his ship, small in comparison to the massive deck, slid gracefully inside, docking itself automatically into the nearest berth. Scar checked his instrument readout. The air was breathable…but he wasn’t going to take any chance. Holstering his blasters, he walked down into his cargo bay and opened the access hatch, and walked down the extending ramp into the massive flight deck. He was amazed at what he saw. Inside this huge deck lay at least 25 unattended Novas, along with a full complement of Busters, Kea’s, and some split vessels. But it was the huge corvette along the outer edge that caught his attention. What looked to be a brand new Marauder class corvette was sitting in an extended berth alongside 3 Teladi transport vessels. The hair stood up on the back of Scar's neck as he felt the cold metal touch of a barrel press up hard against the back of his head.
Malias Kingford III stared forward unblinkingly as the commander of the 35th Argon Federation Pilot Training Command stood before the assembled cadets. It was graduation day- Malias had just completed pilot training and was at his pinning on ceremony. He hadn’t done too bad either- 12th out of 500 pilots. He wondered what his dad….no..he wouldn’t think about his dad right now. His father was a notorious pirate-Malias hoped that he wouldn’t have to face him one day. Malias pushed the thought out of his mind as he continued to listen to the commander. “Congratulations newly approved pilots of the Argon Federation Military. Pilots, fall out and report to your assigned flight leader for assignment. Dismissed.”
Malias took two steps back, and turned on his heel falling out of formation. He felt the weight of those wonderful gold wings on his uniform-he had strived through years at the academy for this day. He pulled his assignment sheet out of his uniform pocket. It read, “Report to Captain “Striker”, Deck 5, briefing room 221B”. The Argon Collosus was a large vessel. The ceremony had been held in flight deck B on Deck 2. Malias walked briskly among the crowd of excited pilots as he made his way to the turbolift. “Deck 5” he said clearly to the computer controlled lift. “Affirmative, proceeding to deck 5”. The doors whisked shut and the turbolift shot up to the upper deck. Upon reaching the deck, Malias searched for his assigned room. He found it with ease and walked in confidently.
Something was wrong-the room was almost empty. Malias thought for sure that he would have been at least assigned to a Buster Vanguard group-but the image of a Discoverer Raider was projected on the main viewscreen in the briefing room. Malias spotted the Captain, and snapped to attention. “Lt. Malias Kingford reporting in sir”. “At ease” Captain “Striker” said softly. “As youll notice, Lt., you have been assigned to a Discoverer escort wing. Although you have a brilliant training record…it appears you have a category 5 background check. You lack the clearance for a heavy fighter. Take a seat.”
Malias felt a wave of anger. Years at the academy-to become a light fighter escort? “Sir-why do I have a category 5 flag?”. “Well Lt. it appears a direct relative of yours is a notorious pirate.” The Captain tapped a few keys on the control console, brining up an image of his father, behind him, the crest of his pirate faction, along with the ship he was last seen in. “It appears your father-the pirate known as “Zero” was last spotted in a pirate sector attacking argon military transports. This of course, places you in a category 5, which prevents you from flying any vessel that has classified material on board. But of course you knew this-didn’t you?”, the Captain said, sneering at Malias. “You should consider yourself lucky for even wearing those wings Lt. If it were my choice-you would be wearing a single stripe on your shoulder and you would be in the enlisted quarters cleaning up after the crew”, he spat.
He struggled to calm himself. After having just been insulted, Malias felt the urge to beat down the Captain. But he knew that would only reaffirm the Captain’s suspicions.
Scar struggled to sit up, as he did he felt a searing pain go through his head. He thought he could smell something burning. As he tried to stand, he slipped and fell again into unconsciousness. His mind once again went blank.
“Lt. Malias your assignment is to escort the energy transport from sector Home of Light to our border patrol corvette in Elena’s Fortune. The Corvette is in need of a top off so that she can jump back to core Argon space to undergo repairs. The Pirate attacks have been ruthless. After the Corvette jumps back to core argon sectors, you are to remain with the patrol force and maintain sector security until the replacement force can jump in. You will fly under my flight lead, along with 4 other discoverers, and 3 busters. You are required to shoot pirates on sight. Any other target requires my authorization. Report to the flight deck immediately to being the mission. Rendevouz point is in sector Home of Light. Upon launch wait for the rest of the flight and stay in formation. Your assigned Discoverer is ALF-0034C. Dismissed.”
“Yes sir”, Malias said, saluting smartly, and marching out of the room. At least he would more then likely get a stab at combat, he thought grimly. His thoughts lingered on his pirate father….Malias struggled to once again push the thought from his mind.
After what seemed hours of walking through the enormous ship, Malias arrived at the flight ready room. He quickly donned his flight gear and reported to the flight deck. The flight bay was even larger-after all, the Collosus was the primary carrier in the fleet. He walked briskly to the computer terminal and entered in his aircraft designation. A-L-F—0-0-3-4-C. “Please report to docking berth 2. Activate the Discoverer and contact mission flight control for further instructions”, the console said calmly. Malias walked over to docking berth 2-the shortest walk he had all day. He checked his gear-everything was good to go. Punching the button to access his cockpit, he climbed the ladder positioned beside his fighter and slid into the cockpit. He once again felt the familiar security of being inside a fighter. His eyes scanned over the instrument board. At least he had gotten a fairly new discoverer, he thought to himself. He attached his helmet, fired up his engines, and contacted mission flight control. “MFC, this is ALF-0034C reporting for escort mission Bravo Charlie. Requesting instructions.” His comms system crackled back in response, “ALF-0034C report to launch tube Alpha.” Malias replied, “ALF-0034C reporting to launch tube Alpha. Confirmed”. He gently eased back the throttle, not wanting to screw up on his first mission. The Discoverer came to life and reacted instantly. He made his way to the launch tube and waited for the blast doors to open. “MFC this is ALF-0034C requesting permission to launch”. “ALF-0034C permission granted, blast doors opening, cleared for launch.”. “ALF-0034C launch confirmed.” He replied. His ship entered the airlock designed for fighter launches. The first blastdoor secured behind him. In front of him was a light indicating when it was safe to launch, along with another blast door. The blast door snapped open, and the light glowed green. Malias punched his throttles in full as he was instructed back at the academy and zipped the little discoverer out of the Collosus.
Scar’s head ached as he feebly attempted to stand up once again. He felt an overwhelming sensation as he once again crashed to the floor. He let out a groan of agony as his mind once again slipped away from him. Memories of his past once again filled his thoughts.
He had met with his assigned flight and met up with the tanker that he was to escort to Elena’s Fortune. “Now Entering sector ELENA’s FORTUNE” his computer said in a matter of factly tone. Immediately a proximity alarm sounded in his ship. His ship computer autotracked the nearest enemy. Malias power up his weapons systems and took a look around the sector. The border sector was flooded with a pirate raiding party. He saw vessels that he had never recognized before, along with the familiar modified teladi vessels and the pirate versions of the Buster and the Nova. The rest of his flight entered the sector through the gate. His comms crackled with the voice of his flight lead-who was piloting a Nova Sentinel. “Flight on me, we need to mop up this pirate group before they catch sight of the tanker.” Against his instincts, Malias argued back to his flight lead” Sir, there are too many. My ship computer reports in 3 Pirate Novas, 5 Pirate Busters, and 2 Pirate Falcons, along with 1 unkown M3.” “Its your baptism of fire Malias-all fighters on me. Charge lasers banks. Prepare to engage-they haven’t seemed to notice us yet.” The flight leader was correct on that at least-the raiding party was too busy dismantling the damaged corvette. The corvette feebly returned fire, but in a matter of moments, a blinding flash of light temporarily blinded Malias. The corvette which they were assigned to protect was gone. Malias knew that this flight stood no chance to defeating the pirates-he also knew that the stubborn flight lead wouldn’t back down. The sector security was already blown to pieces-they had to hold the sector for 30 mizuras before the relief force would arrive.
Just need to stay alive…he thought to himself. “Warning scan detected” the discover’ers computer warned. “Incoming missile”, and a missile warning beep went off-but it was too late, as a disruptor missile slammed into the nose of his discoverer. The missile must have been modified-everything on board the ship instantly died. His engines buckled and failed, the shield generator was going critical, and his radios were damaged. Malias watched helplessely as he tumbled in space while the rest of his flight was demolished by the pirates.
20 Mizuras later, all that remained of escort Alpha Bravo was Malias, and his power was still gone. The Discoverer drifted in space-apparently the pirates weren’t concerned as the jumped out of the sector. A few mizuras later the relief force jumped in. The only power source emminating from Malias’s discoverer was his distress beacon-luckily he was located and hauled aboard.
Malias was shocked at the reaction of the crew onboard the corvette. Everyone was highly suspicious as to why he survived but everyone else died. Rumours of pirate affiliation spread quickly through the ship. Malias’s background was a poorly kept secret. A few days later Malias found himself aboard a prison transport headed towards a remote sector for accusations of pirate conspiracy.
Malias’s mind fast-fowarded. Pirates had attacked the prison transport. They were reading through the ship’s cargo manuscript when they located his name. The pirates had left the prisoner’s in their cells-the ship was apparently rerouted for the nearest pirate base, where the pirates would make the prisoners into slaves. A battlescarred Argon walked up to Malias’s cell. “Appears you’re the Reaper’s son. Ill make this short. Your dad’s dead. He was killed by that corvette you were trying to save. He’s left you his will. You have two options. Join us-or die.” Malias quickly chose the first of the two-he as of the moment hated the argon military for falsely accusing him, and he preffered to live. “Thought that would be the case,” the scarred pirate said softly, “Hes left you The Curse, a prototype heavy fighter, and entrance into his pirate faction, along with 2 million credits. If youll follow me this way, Malias.”
Scar’s eyes snapped open. He had been dreaming-of his past. He looked about himself alertly. Scar was lying on the floor of his ship-the burning smell brought back his memory. He had just manually launched a missile at the centaur when it all went black. He slowly raised himself-the headache seemed to have gotten better. Grasping the wall for support, he looked around. The emergency power was on-a dim red light flooded the interior of his ship. “Computer, status report”. Apparently power was back- “Shields disabled. Hull integrity at 51%”. Damn. He had taken a beating. Walking slowly to the cockpit he lowered himself slowly into the seat and took a look at his damage control board. His jumpdrive was damaged. His shields were gone. His turrets were disabled. Only 4 of his 8 primary laser banks were functioning. And it appeared there was a lifeform in the cargo bay. Just great he thought to himself…can things get any worse? “Warning, hull buckling in cargo bay section C”. Not good. Now he would not only have to handle the stowaway, but also patch up his hull. He tried to clear his head. No matter what he tried to do he couldn’t get rid of the burning sensation. Sighing, he stood up, unholstered his pistols, clicked off the safety’s and made his way to the cargo bay. He walked quietly up to the blast doors. Scar peered cautiously through the small built in viewport on the door. His suspicions were confirmed-it seemed there was a marine on board. A marine who seemed busy planting…explosives. Scar’s heart skipped a beat. He slammed his fist on the blast door control panel and aimed both pistols at the marine. “Stop or Ill blow your cursed brains all over the deck” Scar hissed at the marine. The soldier looked up at Scar, a weapon in his hand. Scar didn’t take in chances, he quickly fired both pistols, averting his face as blood misted all over in the gravityless cargo bay. Least that’s taken care of..he thought to himself. Grabbing a repair kit, he started patching up the hull. After his work was done, he stripped the marine of any valuables and kicked his body into his airlock. A touch of a button and the body whooshed out into space.
Now, back to figuring out what to do with his crippled fighter. At least his engines still functioned. Scar eased forward the throttles carefully. He would have to proceed with extreme caution-he had no shields. He scanned the sector for anything of use, but all he could see was the damaged Pirate warship. It seemed the only option. He scanned the ship again-the hangar deck was still apparently intact. Scar set his course for the warship, and cautiously approached the docking bay. He sighed, and sent forward the encrypted message he was originally supposed to deliver to this warship. Suddenly the crippled warship shuddered, like a chameleon changing colors, and from out of the smoldering wreck emerged a pirate warship. It slid gracefully from the wreck-it was nothing Scar had ever seen. It was this ship’s docking bay that Scar had scanned. Suddenly it all made sense to him. That’s why he was to send the encryption codes. It was all part of the plan-some sort of camoflauge this pirate group used. But still something was off. If the Pirate ship had been here all along, surely it would have assisted him against the Centuar. Scar attempted to comm the vessel, but no response came. He set a docking course for the destroyer. While coming closer in his effort to dock, he noticed that this destroyer had several blaster scorings all along the exterior hull plating. Apparently it had come under attack-perhaps it had been abandoned? Scar was puzzled. He continued on his course. The hangar doors opened and his ship, small in comparison to the massive deck, slid gracefully inside, docking itself automatically into the nearest berth. Scar checked his instrument readout. The air was breathable…but he wasn’t going to take any chance. Holstering his blasters, he walked down into his cargo bay and opened the access hatch, and walked down the extending ramp into the massive flight deck. He was amazed at what he saw. Inside this huge deck lay at least 25 unattended Novas, along with a full complement of Busters, Kea’s, and some split vessels. But it was the huge corvette along the outer edge that caught his attention. What looked to be a brand new Marauder class corvette was sitting in an extended berth alongside 3 Teladi transport vessels. The hair stood up on the back of Scar's neck as he felt the cold metal touch of a barrel press up hard against the back of his head.
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Gvork
- Posts: 63
- Joined: Tue, 12. Aug 03, 14:51
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Black_Sails
- Posts: 95
- Joined: Wed, 1. Aug 07, 06:35
Scar has a few more tricks up his sleeve 
wait till I add the next part