Rogues Revenge Ch 8 completed 1.7.03

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SteveMill
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Rogues Revenge Ch 8 completed 1.7.03

Post by SteveMill »

Chapter completed after the -----

Chapter 8: Breakout

“Force!” Poulson exclaimed, switching the incoming message to the open bridge relay.

“- repeat. Force has commandeered a Bayamon fighter, launching now, second Bayamon in hot pursuit, IFF’s embedded.”

“Received,” Imanckalat sitting at the Tactical station before the main viewer acknowledged receipt of the codes. “On screen.”

“Mute.”

Hart opened his eyes and focused on the main viewer as the warning cut out. A Bayamon was just clearing the station docking tunnel, accelerating on after-burners as another fighter rolled through the torn metal barrier, hot on it’s six.

“Tactical.”

The Paranid tapped a panel. He already hated the new, needless and typically human effete control panels, replacing good, honest, mechanicals with configurable flat-screen layouts and simulated audio feedback. Imanckalat wanted to feel machines obeying his will.

The video close-up dissolved into a spherical tactical display centred on the Black Heart. Numerous small markers, a different symbology for each ship type, flitted around the Heart, all marked in blue. Larger symbols, green squares enclosing the letters LT, were already switching to yellow as the station point defences powered up.

A single red symbol almost merged with the blue-designated pursuer was moving at speed along a projected course towards the shipyard construction site.

Hart waited a few moments, watching his fighters moving to intercept.

“Why have our lasers not fired?” he asked quietly.

“The station fighter is too close Captain,” Imanckalat answered. “Over-ride at your command.”

Hart almost gave the order but hesitated, reluctant to gamble any of the kudos his removal of Force would bring.

“Close-up.”

The tactical display screen wiped into a live feed of two gyrating Bayamons, rolling and twisting almost as one. Accelerator cannon fire flared from Force’s shields, more burned between the engine pylons. The Bayamon presented a narrow cross shaped profile, one that was difficult to hit at close range, particularly with the widely spaced, pylon mounted cannons of another Bayamon.

“Who is flying that fighter?” he asked.

Poulson checked her display, taking a few tense seconds.

“Shulman Sir, from Stoertebeker Base, voice print confirmed at launch!”

“Open a channel,” Hart ordered.

“Incoming message,” Xela announced. Max threw the Bayamon through a sequence of sharp breaks, ending with a corkscrew roll and a high right break back towards the component scattered framework of the unfinished shipyard. The decoy, it’s flight controls slaved to his through the auto-pilot, anticipated every move.

He could feel Tyre tightly gripping his seat, her weight shifting violently as she was thrown around the small cockpit.

“Pilot Shulman you are ordered to break off pursuit.”

“Filter in place,” Xela reported.

“Negative, whoever you are, in pursuit of Max Force!”

Max pulled the fighters on a high-speed roll, twisting through the fire of an Orinoco wing circling the construction site from the port.

“This is Captain Hart, you will break off pursuit.”

Almost there, almost there! Max watched two Bayamon wings pincering in, the upper one almost in weapons range.

“Sorry Captain,” Max hissed static unconvincingly, hoping Xela could dress it up. “You’re breaking up. Taking the shot!”

He cut the channel and fired carefully squeezed short bursts of particle bolts between the decoy’s nacelles, holding his breath as the five attacking Bayamons flashed past without firing. Seconds later he was skimming through the outer skeleton ribs of the shipyard.

“Disengaging lock, roll left,” Xela ordered. Max obeyed and the decoy rolled right and away.

“Okay Max, my auto-pilot program is great but time passes and this is as far as my plan goes,” Xela announced.

He didn’t have time to think, there wasn’t another plan, just head straight for the jump-gate and hope the decoy kept everyone occupied.

Under the control of Xela’s enhanced auto-pilot program the decoy Bayamon weaved through the controlled chaos of the construction site, trailing a swarm of M5 and M4 fighters, while the Orinoco and Falcon wings circled the perimeter.

They were just three klicks from the gate when Xela reported every Mandalay in the sector was on an intercept course.

“You don’t want to know how many, and the gate LT’s are powering up. Hi there Tyre, ask Max about me if we live.”

“Hi,” Tyre replied uncertainly. "Max..?”

“Don’t sweat it Tyre, we’ve been in worse scrapes,” Max cut in.

Remind me of them Zee, he sweated, absorbing the tactical display in his HUD at a glance.

They could reach the safety of the gates just ahead of the bulk of the pursuing Mandalays, if they could avoid getting entangled with the outer riders. And if they were lucky.

“The LT’s will nail us on the gate threshold, even if we can dodge their fire on the way there. You remember our defensive breaks?”

Xela watched each of the five LT’s, tracking their power levels and settings. Two beam lasers and three set to pulse fire. With her calls Max could probably dodge his way through the defensive fire but when you crossed the event horizon of a jump-gate there was that vulnerable zero speed moment. A moment was a long time for an automated targetting system.

“Beta.”

Max twisted into a left barrel roll, the cockpit lit to blinding by the beam slicing across the bow.

Four more times, in quick succession Max precisely executed rehearsed manoeuvres, threading through the deadly rain with what seemed uncanny prescience to the watching Hart.

The Bayamon completed the evasive sequence head on to the two closing Mandalays. They plunged fatally into the quadruple particle stream, flaring to extinction in the cold vacuum.

“Lasers recharged and tracking Captain.” Poulson announced, unable to keep the excitement from her voice. Force had almost succeeded with his subterfuge but had reckoned without Hart’s instincts. Their fighters would be all over him in under a minute and if he held to his intention the LT’s would crisp him as he made the jump.

“We’re not going to make it,” Xela said quietly as the gate loomed. She’d calculated the odds, five lasers tracking one slow moving target. They did not bear repeating even if she thought Max would take any notice.

If they stayed in this sector they were dead.

Max rolled another corkscrew to throw off the tracking systems as they plunged towards the gate, a dozen Mandalays snapping at their rear thrusters.

“Still tracking,” she intoned. The event horizon was just half a klick distant. “Tracking.” The first Mandalays were entering weapons range. Max twisted the throttle uselessly, the nape of his neck crawling as he imagined the huge barrels of the laser towers glowing to life like malevolent waking eyes.

The Bayamon shuddered as the leading Mandalays sprayed long-distance fire.

Almost there.

“Here it comes,” Xela announced in a dead tone. Tyre braced herself against the chair, one hand fiercely clutching his shoulder. As Max rolled the ship again the gate swirled to life, the distinctive rounded bow of an Orca Transporter almost filling the arch of the gate. Reflexively Max broke high and left, cutting over the nose of the TL.

“Falcons launching, LT’s disengaged!” Xela shouted. “Go Max, go!”

He inverted and pulled a sharp loop, doing a ninety-degree break at the top of the roll to skim the length of the Orca hull down into the hyperspace tunnel to Menelaus Paradise.

“Max Force,” he announced with a whoop, “has left the building!”

“Order half our fighters to pursue. Helm, take us through the gate.” Hart snapped. “And somebody get me the Orca, I must thank Commander Coniston for her untimely return.”

By the time his former second officer appeared on screen his emotions were back under a tight rein.

“Unload what supplies you can and interdict Force.”

“Freighters already launching Captain,” she acknowledged, her words as clipped tight as the bun that controlled her long and increasingly grey, flecked hair. Her eyes betrayed her fear.

“It was a brutal coincidence Faith. Force will find no refuge in Menelaus Paradise, we will hunt him down like vermin. Your mission was successful?”

“The Independent Sector entrepreneurs recognise opportunity when it presents itself, they will meet our needs. Skull forces attempted to intervene but they were severely outmatched.”

“Approaching jump-gate,” Poulson noted, putting the forward view into a small window overlain on the picture from the Orca bridge. Hart acknowledged her with a nod.

“The Teladi affair?” he asked circumspectly. Coniston grinned fiercely, erasing the fine worry lines around her eyes. “A total success, there were no survivors!”

“Then Law will be pleased.”

The Black Heart was nosing the event horizon.

“See you on the other side, Faith.”

The channel faded to static as the Black Heart slipped into hyperspace.


“We did it Zee, we actually did it!” Max enthused as the fighter spat from the jumpgate. “You okay back there Tyre?” He gunned the after-burners and headed straight for the Boron Trading Station; it’s spiral shell shape distinct against the glowing gas of a distant nebula, the sector was empty of ships. Tyre managed to choke out a ‘yes’ between wracking sobs of relief. She reached around the pilot seat with both arms, hugging Max tight in mute thanks.

He squeezed her hand, holding it for long seconds as her fought both the loss of the adrenaline surge that fuelled him through the flight and the sheer, choking joy of her safety threatening to burst from his chest. His lashes painted tears on the inside of his shades, obscuring the HUD and he wiped the lens on the knee of his stolen uniform.

“Eew, bloody!” Tyre cried with exaggerated fastidiousness, the arms of her blouse stained with blood from his tunic. “That’s not you is it Max?”

“I’m fine, love, not a scratch. Just tired that’s all. Tyre meet Zee, she’s a super-duper AI and beyond top secret so leave her out of the story okay?”

“She’s also the brains behind the operation,” Xela said with a lilt. “And is… too busy to chat. Heads-up Max!” She flashed the sector display onto his HUD, the gate marker already obscured by the red symbols designating hostile ships.

“Mandalays, lots of them.”

“Dammit Zee,” Max exclaimed wearily. “You have got to be kidding me!”

“And Bayamons. And Hawks and Falcons.”

This time the fear did not conjure a flood of fatigue-rinsing chemicals, only panic, which his training just managed to contain. They could outrun the bigger fighters but the Mandalays were already closing the distance, an entangling snare of fighters that could tie him up long enough for the bigger guns to arrive.

“We don’t need this shit. Zee, can you hook up an all-sector broadcast? I’d say it’s time to shout for help!”

There were over a dozen Mandalays in pursuit, a slavering pack devouring the intervening distance. He checked his weapon loadout, just seven dragonfly missiles to supplement the quadruple Alpha Particle Accelerator Cannons.

“The Force nav-sat is gone and the Boron Naval sat isn’t responding to Artur’s codes,” Xela answered quickly. “And I’m getting no response to my general distress calls. If you want to talk we’ll have to get close and use the short-range docking comms. Each station can see what’s happening, if anyone were going to help they’d be launching ships. Twenty fighters in-sector now.”

Without stims and his body’s biochemistry drained Max could only fight the engulfing, bone-deep fatigue with his will. He jammed fingernails bloodily into his palm, the jolt of pain clearing his head slightly.

“Can we make it to the trading station?”

“In comms range yes, docked, no.”

Tyre stayed silent but Max could feel her grip on the seat, death tight.

Silently Max watched the pursuers consume the distance between them as the Bayamon shot towards the Trading Station. Xela announced the transition of the Black Heart into the sector in a funereal tone. A new nav-sat appeared near the jumpgate.

“In range, channel open!” Xela said, “Enemy in firing range, 45 seconds…mark!”

“This is Commander Force, duly appointed administrator of this sector, requesting immediate aid. Launch all fighters, launch all fighters!”

“Identity and request denied.” The transmission was audio only but the soft, sibilant voice distinctively Boron. “We wish no part of internecine clan disputes, leave the sector at once. Communication closed.”

“They’ve jammed all channels,” Xela said over a wall of static. “Can they still hear me?” Max asked frantically.

“Probably, but no-one is going to be replying through this.”

He could barely see through the sudden rage, to come this far just to die like this!

“This is Max Force, I’m coming into dock. You’d better open them damn doors or the next Boron I meet is consommé, savvy?”

Static.

“Max!”

Plasma bolts from impulse ray emitters were already streaming around the Bayamon as Max slammed the throttle shut, pivoted one-eighty degrees and hammered the strafe drive, arcing his ship through the oncoming fire, forcing the closest pursuers to over-shoot. Two vanished in ephemeral plumes of ignited vapour under his guns and he after-burned towards the trading station docking port, Xela keeping up a constant sit-rep, enabling him to twist and roll through most of the incoming fire. Another strafe break took two more fighters down as the remaining Mandalays scattered, breaking every which way from his superior firepower. The Bayamons and Falcons continued to grind down the distance.

“Coming, and coming in hot!” Max screamed into the comm. and after-burned towards the docking port, poised to invert and dump speed.

“Max…” Tyre said uncertainly as she peered over the seat, incongruously reminding Max of a child cowering behind the furniture from vid monsters.

The doors remained shut and the green docking lights dark.

“Max...”

The Bayamon plunged through the shadows of the rotating station tentacles towards the doors.

“Max!” Xela and Tyre screamed in unison.

His screams joined theirs as he pulled back on the stick, clearing the sealed docking tunnel by paint layers. The jolting impact of plasma fire snapped him from shock paralysis and he rolled the Bayamon corkscrew along the hull of the giant station, skimming between protruding antennae and weapon ports trailing a pack of fighters. One exploded against the hull as it attempted to follow Max’s rolling course around the body of the station, engulfing another in the blast.

As the Bayamon skim-rolled over the rear of the main body, Max dumped velocity in brutal disregard for design tolerances and gravity fields. Tyre slammed against his seat and tumbled back with a sickening crack as the fighter pivoted a full one-eighty to rise and spray plasma over the pursuers. Another two of the lightly shielded fighters exploded, another careened into a surface pylon and ploughed across the hull, disintegrating in a wake of sparks. The remaining Mandalays, Xela counted six, broke high in all directions giving Max time to turn towards the southern jumpgate and the safety of Boron space.

“Tyre!” Max twisted in his seat trying to see if she was okay. He caught a glimpse of a bleeding scalp wound, bright against bone-white skin.

“Her breathing is strong, just get us out of here!” Xela urged.

Max tore his focus back to the tactical situation, again scoring his palm with sharp nails, riding the pain.

The Mandalays were sweeping around in a wide arc, forming up into wingman pairs. Another dozen Bayamons were only three klicks behind but not able to close the distance once he after-burned to full speed. Targeting each Mandalay sequentially he squeezed off the dragonflies, praying that would give him just enough time to clear the jumpgate.

It worked, losing discipline the light fighters scattered in all directions, pursued by the homing missiles.

With only four klicks to the gate Max let out a silent sigh of relief.

At three klicks the jumpgate swirled to life, stars vanishing behind the roiling turbulence of the hyperspace tunnel event horizon.

“Oh that’s it,” Max said bitterly. “Time out, time out!”

The hijacked Orca barely cleared the gate before it began launching Stoertebeker fighters.

-----------------

Then it fired silkworms, eight in staggered pairs of the heavy missiles to ensure multiple attack vectors once the target went evasive.

“I’m open to ideas, suggestions or some hitherto unmentioned but damn convenient new ability of yours Zee!”

“Sorry Max, time to wing it.” She swiftly allotted each silkworm an alphanumeric designation and maintained a constant commentary on position and bearing.

“It’s always that time,” he muttered and pulled a tight high speed turn which he held through three-sixty degrees, dragging three pairs of missiles onto his tail.

“Delta 1 and 2 on the nose,” Xela stated as Max rolled out of the break head to head with the Orca and the jumpgate behind it.

Max watched the missile exhausts and the Orca Bayamons breaking in a high/low pincer and spiral-rolled adroitly as the silkworms reached their Intercept Point, triggering each other’s proximity fuse. The double blast rocked the Bayamon, taking the shields down to 70% but he held course, planning to again joyride down the Orca hull into the gate.

“Collision alert!” Xela broke her running commentary to shout. His fatigued reflexes barely managed to pull a break out of the path of the giant Transporter as it thundered forward on flaring after-burners. It was sheer luck that the manoeuvre did not take them through the gun-sights of the stalking fighters and he broke left high, right level and right low, three blind trust moves that won him a second to scan his own sit-rep.

“Oh shit,” he said dully.

The sector was full of Stoertebeker ships.

The Black Heart orbited the gate back to Station Prime, a five-ship wing of Teladi Hawk and Falcon fighters circling protectively. A dozen more of Black Heart Bayamons were almost in firing range trailing four pairs of Hawks and Falcons. Half a dozen Bayamons from the Orca were also arcing in pursuit of Max as their mothership accelerated away, still dropping fighters from the massive rear bay. These quickly linked into wingman pairs that sped after the Orca, trailing in its wake.

“Break right, break right!” Xela screamed. Max yanked the stick, almost too late but the missile burned down past the left nacelles. “Left, left!” He reacted in time to take only a glancing hit from the two converging plasma streams but his snapshot sailed clean past the rolling Bayamons flashing across his nose. He was slowing down now, synapses taking just that extra few milliseconds to fire and without Xela’s constant updates he knew they’d be vapour.

Mortality twisted like a knife in his guts, a shocked numbness that spread through his body and weighted his limbs as he wheeled and rolled through hailstorms of plasma and shield scraping brushes with the maelstrom of fighters. It was all he could do to keep some charge in the shield banks.

“Laser towers still tracking.” Xela kept up her death-watch commentary.

“Comms!” Max shouted. “Keep trying to get through to the Trading Station!”

“The Nav-Sat is on-line but no response. Break high, left!”

Reflexively he obeyed, seizing a half chance to blast through a Mandalay wing, burning two of the three as they angled in from beyond the jumpgate. His fighter shuddered again under a stream of fire, the shield charge holding by a sliver.

Xela quietly announced the loss of a PAC.

They were beyond the gate now, some two klicks out and heading for deep space but Max knew there was no safety there, just the slow slide into oxygen narcosis and death as life support failed.

“Now or never Zee,” he murmured. “Breaking for the gate, keep watching those towers.”

He pulled a full loop, hoping against all logic that approaching from the opposite side to the Laser point defences might offer some protection, and plunged through a swarm of oncoming Bayamons. Somehow they survived with only the loss of another particle accelerator cannon.

Looking ahead his heart plunged.

“We’re not going to make it are we?”

Xela did not recalculate the odds, Max kept beating them anyway but this time she didn’t need to. Five Orca Bayamons had formed a stationary cross in the gaping maw of the jumpgate; twenty Alpha PAC’s waiting to scythe them down.

They could not miss.

Max took one last regretful glance at the unconscious Tyre and embraced numb fatalism.

“It’s been a blast Zee.”

“It has that Max. Let’s give them hell!”

He lined up on the centre Bayamon and touched the afterburners, watching death loom with agonising slowness.

Holding the trigger down he closed his stinging eyes.

Aboard Station Prime Law watched the video-feed, waiting for the inevitable denouement with less satisfaction than he had envisaged. Somehow he’d always imagined Force would die at his hand. His own fighters, recognising the finality of the moment, circled the gate.

“Break, break!”

Max responded reflexively to her absolute imperative, pulling a hard left before he could even think. Over his right shoulder he could see the jumpgate shimmering to life, he rolled right, inverting to track it through the cockpit canopy.

The bow of the Orca smashed the barricading fighters aside, sending them twisting and spinning before their wrecked drives flared like supernovas before fading into the cold vacuum. The Boron Transporter ploughed through the debris.

As Max rubber-necked in numb incomprehension a familiar voice filled the cockpit.

“Anyone who ain’t Max Force prepare to kiss your asses goodbye!”

Fighters spat from the rear flight bay, Mambas that adroitly formed up into wingman pairs as they tore towards the circling Stoertebeker ships on star-bright afterburners.

“How’re doing there Max, you must get tired of me hauling your butt out of the flames?”

Jackson’s head appeared in the HUD, the viewpoint drawing back to show him sitting in the centre seat of a small bridge, Sinas sat beside him. The Confederation Clan leader tapped a control panel extending from a chair arm as Max’s mouth moved soundlessly with shock.

Xela returned the electronic handshake.

“Auto-docking engaged. Good to see you Jack, although it chokes my circuits to say so.”

Max tried to throw out some ice cool response as the Bayamon cruised the length of the Orca hull but the words lodged behind the swelling lump in his throat. It exploded into convulsing, shaking sobs of born-again relief as they crossed the shimmering atmosphere containment field into the aft docking bay.

As his boots touched the deck the cheers of the Raiders flight engineers almost drowned the roar of launching fighters and he carried Tyre through narrow, ammonia-tainted corridors to the improvised sick-bay, refusing all aid before allowing himself to be led to the bridge. The crew rose as one, Kaitrin on Comms, Payter at Tactical, a middle-aged woman he didn’t recognise at the Helm, Sinas, even Kermankellin, the Paranid hunching at Operations, they all stood and clapped.

Jackson rose from the Captain’s chair, grinning from ear to ear, extending his hand.

“Just keeping it warm for ya Max!”

He couldn’t say anything, couldn’t speak through welling emotions all fighting for expression. Being a man he just shook Jackson’s proffered hand and took the centre seat before his legs finally gave way.

When he was certain he could talk without breaking up he said “Tactical.”

Payter instantly pulled a 3d system map on-screen. The Black Heart and a straggling tail of fighters were already retreating back through the jump-gate and as he watched the Orca abandoned fighter retrieval operations and slipped away through it’s own jump point. The Raider fighters slaughtered half the abandoned Bayamons before the pilots of the surviving seven were allowed to surrender.

“Get them all back and take us home.”

“You are home,” Sinas replied. “We just need someone to open the door.”

While the TL cruised towards the Trading Station, embarking fighters along the way, the Boron factotum explained on an open channel precisely what fate lay in store for those who failed to bow to his authority.

By the time they arrived the Orca had acquired a Piranha fighter honour guard.

By that time Max was too exhausted to care.
Last edited by SteveMill on Wed, 2. Jul 03, 11:31, edited 9 times in total.
KiwiNZ
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Post by KiwiNZ »

Excellent one! That was a great idea to have that coincident with the Orca. Though, I feel the LT's are tracking very fast, have to try that in the game again.
Also very nice the colloquialism ... we have been in worse situations ... remind me of them, please :D

Looking forward to see what expects them in Menelaus Paradise. I'd say it should be possible for somebody to jump in with the Mamba by now.

The end of that part reads like quite a lot has happened in the meantime. Curious to see what.

Bring it on!

found one thing:
"Shulman announced" - wrong name, should be the Paranid me thinks
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Post by Mercenary »

Good read...

One thing I'm a little uncertain about is the use of 'aural' rather than 'oral'.

Looking forward to the next bit..


Merc
SteveMill
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Post by SteveMill »

Amendments made, correct name used and aural (correct word) changed to audio (clearer term). Thanks for the feedback.

On LT effectiveness - I'm taking them at the effectiveness of player owned LT's, which to me seem a lot more effective when remotely defending a station than AI controlled ones when we attack them. I figure to be worthwhile they do actually have to be able to hit things and be co-ordinated, hence Max's vulnerability in a relatively narrow circle of space when approaching a jump-gate protected by 5 well-positioned towers.
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Post by Gandalf The White »

Good stuff Steve. Excellent stuff indeed. Can't weight for pt 2
some who deserve life receive death. Others who deserve death receive life. Can you give it to them? Don't be eager to deal out death in judgement, for not even the wise can see all ends.
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Post by Nuwanda »

nice one steve....just keep getting better...
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Post by Adamskini »

WAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!

nuff' said

\o/
Aug 2000 -> March 2001 - Old Skool Egosoft Forum
March 2001 -> Nov 2002 - THQ forum
Nov 2002 -> now - Current, prettier Egosoft Forum

[anybody remember The Enforcers?!]
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Post by SteveMill »

The Doctor wrote:Good stuff Steve. Excellent stuff indeed. Can't weight for pt 2
Wait no longer for it is here! :D

2600 words and it's only Monday.

<Chandler Bing>Could I GET any more prolific?</Chandler Bing> :wink:
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Post by Deleted User »

I'm on the edge of my seat, I really DO hate cliffhangers.


Keep this up Steve.

IO
Gandalf The White
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Post by Gandalf The White »

wow! that's some good fighting there!
some who deserve life receive death. Others who deserve death receive life. Can you give it to them? Don't be eager to deal out death in judgement, for not even the wise can see all ends.
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Post by Mercenary »

Time to swing around and approach the gate from the other side me thinks...

Another excellent read...
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Post by Gandalf The White »

Comidor James? Or Shaddo Skin
some who deserve life receive death. Others who deserve death receive life. Can you give it to them? Don't be eager to deal out death in judgement, for not even the wise can see all ends.
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Post by Adamskini »

bahbahbahbbahbhbahbahbahbahbahbahbahbahbahb!

complete!

complete!

\o/
Aug 2000 -> March 2001 - Old Skool Egosoft Forum
March 2001 -> Nov 2002 - THQ forum
Nov 2002 -> now - Current, prettier Egosoft Forum

[anybody remember The Enforcers?!]
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Post by KiwiNZ »

Coooooool! Nice chase. Looks like Law is well prepared this time around. Though, one would think he might just be able to make use of that situation with an Orca in front of a Jumpgate yet again. After all, its fighters have to hold back while he is very close.

Excellent part, got my pulse racing for a moment. ... well, could be that hot brunette next to me, too ... :lol:

Looking forward to the next part.

found one thing:
"her fought" - he
Gandalf The White
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Post by Gandalf The White »

hmmm, I wonder if Max went behind the gates, if the LT's would turn and fire and hit the TL? Would they know it's there or would they just track the target and shoot the TL? hmmm
some who deserve life receive death. Others who deserve death receive life. Can you give it to them? Don't be eager to deal out death in judgement, for not even the wise can see all ends.
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Post by SteveMill »

The Doctor wrote:hmmm, I wonder if Max went behind the gates, if the LT's would turn and fire and hit the TL? Would they know it's there or would they just track the target and shoot the TL? hmmm
I think we can assume Law's tactical awareness extends to gates having two entrances. :wink: hopefully more later today or tomorrow.
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Post by KiwiNZ »

SteveMill wrote: hopefully more later today or tomorrow.
Uhhh, now that sounds promising :D
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Post by SteveMill »

KiwiNZ wrote:
SteveMill wrote: hopefully more later today or tomorrow.
Uhhh, now that sounds promising :D
I'm going to try and finish this chapter over lunch if I can. It could be a shortish segment unless I incorporate the funeral and Law's victory parade. :wink:
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Post by Gandalf The White »

lol
some who deserve life receive death. Others who deserve death receive life. Can you give it to them? Don't be eager to deal out death in judgement, for not even the wise can see all ends.
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Post by Fear »

SteveMill wrote:
KiwiNZ wrote:
SteveMill wrote: hopefully more later today or tomorrow.
Uhhh, now that sounds promising :D
I'm going to try and finish this chapter over lunch if I can. It could be a shortish segment unless I incorporate the funeral and Law's victory parade. :wink:
I'll refuse to Buy X2 if ya did, and let someone kill ya. Ok I still would buy X2 damnit, way to hard to risk that. Atleast someone should kick you from the administrators if ya did.
Fear
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