The gunship Sandoval, slowly, nosed her way through a dense asteroid field, her positron shroud deflecting pieces of broken planet to either side as she passed. Her Captain, Javier Castillio, paid no attention to the micro collisions, as he was more concerned with the Cryer Transport passing by just outside of scanner range. Sandoval crept forward, silently...
'Looks good,' Castillio said to no one in particular.
In an instant it was over. The Captain of the Cryer Vessel did not call for help, he simply cut his engines and waited for the Outcast to approah.
'Smart...Very smart,' Castillio began, 'Now, dump that cargo, we can't have your product competing with ours, Captain.'
Without fanfare or comment, the Cryer complied, spilling it's bay into space like a disemboweled whale. Javier allowed a hit of a smile when he issued his next order. He was smiling because he knew that the pilot would do as he was instructed, even if it goes against his whole purpose for being here.
'Destroy the cargo and you may leave', Javier said evenly.
The Cryer vessel opened fire on it's former cargo, it's civilian turrets blasting them to oblivion. Javier saluted the pilot, who's compliance kept him alive this day, and sipped his cup of Kusari green, enjoying it's light body warming his own. Sandoval engaged her powerful engines, springing her forward toward places unknown to the departing transport. Javier knew he wouldn't be reporting anything until he got well with in the protection of Liberty.
In the black, trouble has a way of finding a person and help is not always available. Sometimes you may have to stand alone...
The Maltse gunship Sandoval, banked gracefully making her final approach to Valletta Shipyard. Her NAV and COM systems needed attention and her Captain's cardimine meter was chirping a warning to replace his empty cylinder. The problem was, he'd been out too far for too long and he was bone dry. Normally this wouldn't be a cause for concern but he'd been listening to that chirp for the last two systems and he was starting to feel the effects of cardi depravation. Some liken the feeling to withdrawl symptoms from narcotics. Javier had never done narcotics... so he couldn't compare... but his stomach was as tight as a drum... and his skin was beginning to feel like it was being stretched and torn from his frame. This was not good.
"Sandoval... you are clear to dock", the mechanical voice informed him. The sequence had already begun, Sandoval would take it from here, Javier thought... as he removed his seat restraints and waited for the sound of the hard seal. There was an audiable "thump" and some hissing... only then did Sandoval open her pressure doors to allow the sweet and pungent taste of the "Orange Dream" into his nostrils.
"Much better", Javier said, clearly relieved.
He took another deep breath and started toward the offices. He had an appointment with Command and he did not want to be late. They would want to know the situation with Ageria and what was being done about their cursed pharmaceuticals.
Javier grabbed some replacement cylinders and headed to the meetings, confident that his last patrol log would be pleasing to his superiors. After all, Five Ageria transports... had to return home with empty bays and no profit to show for it. It had been a good patrol.
So why then was he standing outside the office doors, lingering like an apprehensive school boy?
Sandoval's Captain stood tall and entered the room.
Javier blinked to adjust to the dimmed lights in the meeting room.
"Javi!", to voice came again.
Castillio turned to see Pablo Legaro, his Squadron Commander, looking mildly irrate.
"Si, Patron?"
"I am getting reports from our people in Newcastle. I don't like hearing about the new Bretonian ships... except how best to defeat them. Effective immediately you are to go down there and deal with the situation. I want there to be no doubt in the minds of anyone flying in that particular patch of space as to WHO owns it. Comprendo?"
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