Brotherhood Bar-Talks

[Laowai]

The large, Charred piece of metal made a loud clanging sound as it dropped onto the table, temporarily silencing the usual rowdiness of the bar. Ben Laowai sat himself down in his usual dark corner seat.

"whats that?" the barman asked... knowing, without having to be asked, that it was one of those days where a bottle of Baijiu, the noxious Kusari spirit that was Ben's drink of choice, would need to be brought straight away, and probably replaced quickly when it's contents were inevitably emptied.

"That.." said Laowai, Dropping his gun belt on the table next to the metal chunk, "is a piece of fuselage". Ben took the bottle and took a swig, the alcohol burned it's way down his throat. Kusarians need to realise that not everything has to taste like acid - laughing to himself He recalled Zavier Benitez's words over the comm system earlier that day. Before that, he had never spoken to the man, nor had he been aware that he knew Kusari drinking habits, it had surprised him.

The Barman picked up the metal, it was twisted, showing burn marks around the edges, it was obviously from something that had probably seen better days. "Fuselage?" he said, "From what?"

Ben chuckled... "from the sad mess of maintenance that is my Titan". The barman raised his eyebrows, "your Titan? what happened to it?". Ben held up a data recorder, the barman activated it's screen and raised his eyebrows again.... "wow... that's.. a mess".

"Yes, quite" Ben returned, "it was shot out from under me in that Liberty debacle today and the remains were salvaged and brought back" Holding up the bottle as a gesture of salute he continued.. "and i... was brought back on said salvage craft". He downed the drink. Then continued "it is, however, being repaired now...

There were a lot of things in various states of mess on Crete, but one thing that was not were Crete's technicians. Hundreds of years of rough survival, harsh and inhospitable space, enemies, and sheer isolation had made ship repair, manufacture and maintenance a high art on Crete. Most Corsairs tinkered themselves in some way, creating weapons, changing their ships. But the true testament to their skill lay in the fact that any ship, even barely intact, could probably be salvaged and flying again in only a short while. The Titan itself, the Corsairs most ubiquitous fighter in Omicron Gamma, was so popular that most of it's components were now prefabricated, and any pilot could be fitted with an almost as new vessel in literally days. In times of war, this had been known to be reduced to mere hours.

Earlier that day, Ben had been doing exactly that, tinkering. His Titan's major systems had been needing and overhaul for months and he had been putting it off. That morning, he had removed his missile system and after that, prophetically, his comm system.
So doing, he had missed the general alert that a flotilla of Liberty vessels had entered Omicron Gamma and proceeded to ambush the stray Corsair vessels there. He knew nothing until, plugging the comm unit back into power, his IFF switched on and a message came through on a secure Benitez Channel "LSF in orbit above Crete, Do not lift off"

His comm system suddenly became full of the frantic chatter of battle as the Corsair vessels scattered throughout Omicron Gamma and then Delta were set upon by the Liberty Force. "Is it secure to lift off?" he shouted down the comm, he had suited up in record time and was sitting in his vessel, engines running, smoke hissing out of the thermal thruster vents..
No reply came, until a frantic "They're here!" came down the line from an unidentified Corsair vessel... Ben put on his helmet and sealed the cockpit. "To hell with it" he said to himself and lifted off. To find a now empty sky....
The Liberty vessels had left Omicron Gamma and had proceeded to Omicron Delta, there to continue their work as they fell upon the unprepared and outnumbered Corsair Vessels. "Dammit this thing is too slow!!" he had yelled to no one, and at that moment he cursed the technicians that would later be his saviors, "why can someone not make an engine that is faster!" he yelled. His ship sped through Gamma, and then Kappa, avoiding the Bounty Hunter and Nomad Patrols that attempted to intercept him on the way, all the time Ben felt a helpless frustration as the chatter of battle came over the comm system, as one by one, the transponder signals of Corsair Vessels began to blink out - a sign that the vessel had either been damaged to the point of uselessness, or worse, destroyed.

"Looks like you came out of it second best" the Barman chuckled, bringing another bottle of Baijiu. By the time Ben had found the liberty fleet there was one lone Order Cruiser left in the fight, but as he closed to open fire on a Liberty fighter the Order Cruiser had erupted in flames in his view finder, temporarily blinding him. His computer signalled a missile warning and as he flicked off the decoy control he saw his scanner...one green blip, many red blips, and several, large, elongated capital ship blips. He blinked at the scanner... "oh hell..."
His was the only Corsair vessel, and he was in the middle of the Liberty flotilla. "This can not end well" he thought to himself and then laughed... so be it! "Liberty Welps!" he yelled out over the comm system and flung his fighter into the thick of it. Dodging and weaving around the Liberty dreadnought and avoiding cruiser fire, he had attempted to target the fighters, to take at least one with him. But the results were inevitable; and eventually; "EJECT, EJECT" his warning system blared out as flames filled his cockpit....

He gestured back to the metal fragment the bartender still held in his hands, "That bit of metal" he smiled, "is, i believe, part of the seat"....

"The seat!?" the barman exclaimed. Ben smiled, "yes the seat, but i can't show you my pants, they were much much worse"

The barman chuckled, " get a new seat then?" Ben raised the bottle again. "yes, i did, and a finer seat, you will not see. But those pants... well, they are probably in Liberty now" and he laughed out loud. The Baijiu now well and truly dulling his senses he stood up, "VIVA LOS CORSAIRS"! he shouted, "DEATH TO THOSE WHO WOULD COME LIGHT YEARS TO DESTROY OUR PANTS!"

A loud round of laughter filled the room, shouts of "Viva!" rang out and as drinks were downed, bottles broken. Laowai handed the metal shard to the bartender, "Put that on the wall" he said, " and when I've recovered my pants from some dead Liberty scum you can put them up there as well"

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