Location: Durban Station….Medical Bay. DebriefingNewly appointed centurion, Crow commanded a ship in a mission to raid the Omicron-Gamma system controlled by the Corsair Empire. As the fleet entered Omicron-Gamma it came under grueling attack from Corsair home fleets. Crows vessel, The Ambriamus, fell for a bait and switch. Separating from the fleet and splitting the forces, leaving them open to attack. Eventually Core forces managed to regroup but sustained heavy damage. The Ambriamus was struck stern by a missile destroying its thruster, forcing the Centurian Crow to order for its retreat. Ambriamus found itself unable to enter cruise to escape. Due to bomber screening, and in the sights of an encroaching dreadnought. The following bombardment started breaking the main armor band of the Ambriamus. Minutes later abandon ship was ordered. During evacuation an explosion on deck knocked Crow unconscious, medics quickly extracted Centurion Crow to safety. A benefit of his new rank. The Guildmaster ultimately declared this mission a failure… and failure must be punished.
When Crow came back to consciousness, he came back screaming. It rattled the busy and full halls of Durban Stations medical center. Quickly snuffed as Crow found himself gagged with leather, and a man hanging over him. Giggling. "Bout time you woke up! Those medics really pumped you full to keep yea down.” He continued his cackling as Crow became more aware of his surroundings, and panic set in. The Centurion thrashed now finding himself restrained, but something wasn’t right, even with the seemingly bad situation he awoke to. Something was missing. He tried sitting up but found nothing answered the call. He found new breath for more screaming through the gag. “Don’t worry Centurion, they also made a clean job of those. I'll make sure their work goes to waste.” The doctor relishing in madness of the foretold pain in his new “patient”. Crow realized he was on a moving stretcher as it slammed through doors into an open room spotting a presumed operating table that looked more like an assembly line. With robot limbs and modules, ready for the next cycle. Crow couldn’t resist as he was wrestled onto the table and locked in its own restraints. "A Centurion will no augments? ‘Bout time you chromed up!" As the jittering figure moved away from the table. Crow heard a clang as the machines servo turned on and powered up.
