Juan could not believe his ears.
"Forward this to any outcasts in the area, =CR= blockade near Cali base, we need backup NOW"
The recruit couldn't feel more nervous. An assault on their base and he was the only available quick reaction fighter at the time. Setting the coordinates in his navigation's unit, the dagger light fighter quickly set course to Tau 37 system and then to Tau 23.
He bit his lip as he began to run a pre-fight system's check on his weapons. The two Stunpulse class shieldbusters and three Pyro's were in tip top shape, tho these weren't the usual friendly spars he had back in Alpha. This time the odds were bleek.
He truly felt like he was going to walk in on his own death fight.
"Malta control, Juan Albertez here, I am approaching Cali base, situation seems to be und...oh my god"
He couldn't believe his eyes, multiple hostiles were attacking the base and a nearby craft he recognized as to be the one, which sent him the SOS in the first place. Said ship light up in flames and collapsed as soon as he was in range.
"Malta, this is Juan Albertez, we need backup, multiple hostiles 1k away from Cali base!"
"Last chance, Juan, leave now." One of the hostiles spoke, yet it was too late, two heavy fighters were closing on him rapidly, he had to make a maneuver not to allow one of them ram through his unarmored ship.
The war cemetery of Malta seemed quiet for once, even though there was a soft breeze passing the orange fields just below the hill were quiet as well.
There was no body to burry, yet most of the fallen men and woman here faced such a death. Their loved ones sometimes visited them all, those who were not blessed by such still got a orange flower placed on their grave to remind them they were missed.
Noone did came to Juan's grave, noone yet knew. Yet when they would find out, the grave would have already sprouted a lonely flower, which was soon after, broken by the wind.
Derik Leeman opens the newspaper while enjoying a cup of coffee on Planet New London and zeros in on the topic of an IMG attack.
"It seems that four well equipt Remnant ships attacked Cali Base last night. The whole of the attack has not yet been uncovered, but a ship's blackbox was found by scanners in a small cloud of debris. The video recovered from the box was fairly garbled, though the recovered pieces are embedded here for your viewing."
Derik followed the link and watched in amazement as the Remnant spent quite some time attempting to destroy a Dagger piloted by a young recruit. His weaving and tactical use of the disruptor kept him alive for quite some time, but in the end, the aggressors managed to crack his hull.
There wasn't much of a warning from those Remnant ships, thought Derik, I had best keep my business as far from them as possible. He had never visited Cali base with his Firefly, but business trips had taken him into the system. It was unbelievable that the Remnant would be so bloodthirsty as to send all four ships against what should have been an easy target. What would they do to a greater danger, attack with no warning? Yes, it would be best if he avoided the IMG after this embarrassing incident.
James stood solemly listening to the latest death reports over the intercomms in Arranmore. He winced when he heard the name Juan Albertez echo down the hall. Juan was an extraordinary LF pilot that had faught alongside the UOG and MR during the Colonial Wars. Not a whole lot of deaths got to the huge Seargent like this, but James had accustomed himself to the loss of friends.
He would have a few extra drinks in Juan's honor.
Some say that he is allergic to a fungus found only between the toes of Corsairs,
and that he is oblivious to 98% of Liberty Law. All we know is... He's called the Busdriver!
Rafaele sat in his office, hands folded on his chin. It wasn't often that he concerned himself with Cali Base or its issues, but it was along one of the trade routes used by the Syndicate. He heaved a sigh. The young man who gave his life to defend it must be recognized for his bravery and selfless devotion.
"Shadow?"
True to form, the rail-thin cyborg appeared to flow out of the corner.
"Please notify the Skull. I wish to be ready to launch in two hours."
"Done. Shall I alert the rest of the fleet as well?"
"Yes, that would be nice."
Zealot Wrote:Just go play the game and have fun dammit.
Treewyrm Wrote:all in all the conclusion is that disco doesn't need antagonist factions, it doesn't need phantoms, it doesn't need nomads, it doesn't need coalition and it doesn't need many other things, no AIs, the game is hijacked by morons to confuse the game with their dickwaving generic competition games mixed up with troll-of-the-day.
Carlos sat back in his Sabre as he heard the news click on over the communications system.
"Damn... we've lost another scout," he said. "Something needs to be done about this."
A slow funeral march played over the comms, and slowly faded to silence. The Maltese Cross at the Port of Malta was lowered in honor of the lost warrior.
Moments later, orders crackled over the comms:
"Rally the fleet!"
A way a lone a last a loved a long the riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay,
brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.
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