The Scarman Enigma

[|Scarecrow|]

Los Angeles orbit

Sayne cut the link with Scarecrow and opened a communications channel with the concealed Black Flag Corsairs waiting in orbit around Los Angeles. His strike force totaled twenty seven elite fighters and four medium interceptors. Despite Scarmans arrogance, his Corsairs were indeed a force to be reckoned with. He opened the channel to the lead Black Flag pilot; a man by the name of Jenkins who held the title of Marauder. Scarecrows war band had a rudimentary ranking system that Sayne felt was simply for egotistical purposes. The lowest rank was Rookie, then Skirmisher, then Gladiator, Marauder, Brawler and finally the Black Flag Elite topped only by the Tyrant. Sayne ignored most ranking systems, but he noted that the skill levels of the Black Flag pilots increased through the ranks, so Scarmans system wasnt as worthless as it appeared.
Jenkins, are your men ready,
Our enemies will burn, The burly Bretonians voice crackled over the communicator.
Hit the civilians; go for transports and light cargo ships; the defenseless ones.
With pleasure, Jenkins cut the link, his voice seemingly enjoying the order almost too much.
Sayne fired up his engines. This was where things got complicated.

On board the bridge of the Tuatha de Danaan, several warning icons began to blink. Captain Hans Hao looked up at the noise, raising an eyebrow.
Sir, He said as he spun his chair across to the offending console. You might want to come and take a look at this.
Fleet Admiral Merlow spun around in his command chair and looked across at the young Captain.
What is it Hans?
Ive got several new arrivals on radar, sir they just appeared out of nowhere. Hao looked over at his superior incredulously.
What, thats impossible. Merlow stood up and walked over to the console. Sure enough the monitor showed thirty one new contacts appearing around the public trade-space around Los Angeles.
Can you mark them? He demanded, looking frantically from screen to screen.
Powerful ships sir, very heavy fighters most of them. Its a random collection of ships sir, Ive never seen anything like it.
Merlow looked up at the main view screen just as another warning icon began to flash.
Weve got proximity breeches, A young Ensign reported from across the bridge.
Weve been compromised, Merlow returned to his seat and gripped the arms. Battle stations, go to red alert. Drop stealth systems and raise shields. All fighter pilots to their stations, I repeat, all fighter pilots to their stations.
The damned Black Flag Corsairs have arrived.

Several kilometers from the Danaans bridge, Marauder Jenkins drifted idly out from beneath the freighter he had been using to shield his energy signals. He rotated his Titan VHF lazily around to face the bulky transport, grinning evilly as his targeting crosshairs came to focus on the civilian ships bridge.
On board the bridge of the Ageira vessel Rising Sun, newly promoted Captain Jonathan Statham looked on in horror as the sinister form of the Titan turned to face his ship. The fighters cannons lit up like the fires of hell and in an instant, Statham was sucking vacuum. The energy bolts ripped into the bridge of the transport, ignoring the pathetic shielding and tearing directly into the heart of the command centre. One second Stathams entire world was a searing blaze before his life was cut short and the remains of his charred corpse were consumed by the following explosion. Detonations rippled through the spine of the transport, one after the other leading down its metallic hide. Then the engine cells ignited, exploding in an angry flash of blazing orange. The shockwave expanded out into space, rocking Jenkins Titan. The Marauder sniggered to himself and turned his ship away. He targeted a small civilian runabout and slammed his foot down on his thruster pedal, his snigger breaking out into a disturbed laugh.

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Los Angeles Spaceport

Tyrant Scarman was in business. Sayne had begun his diversion, now all Marcus needed to do was hope that the quaking young Rookie he had sent packing with his blaster acted suspiciously enough to be taken in be the Freedom Fighters and questioned more thoroughly. He had given her explicit orders to act as if she knew something, so that the Bounty Hunter, Manning, would take her up to the Freedom Fighter flagship so that the Fleet Admiral could speak with her personally. It was a long shot, but Scarecrow had confidence in his knowledge of how the Freedom Fighters worked. Now dressed in the uniform of a Sadukar Soldier, he made his way across the hangar bay towards the Freedom Fighters Thunderhawk dropship. He sneered as he noticed the two Marines on guard duty. Hurst and Connors nodded curtly as their beloved Tyrant entered the transport. He strolled casually directly up the access ramp and disappeared inside the Thunderhawk. The two Brawlers looked at each other and smirked before following him inside.

Regina Delores was on the verge of crying as she ran through the compound. The M9 Enforcer felt heavy in her hand and the weight of what her Tyrant had demanded of her tugged on her shoulders. When she had joined the Black Flag Corsairs, mere months before they were dragged out of their home and thrown into this new god-forsaken universe, she had believed that life with the pirate band would be bountiful and easy. She was now wishing she had stayed at home and not defied her parents by dropping out of College. As she ran around the corner, she almost collided with a tall man wearing a long coat.
Hold it there, The man said in a deep voice. He was a Rheinlander, she could tell from his accent. He took the M9 from her and spun her around. You are one of the prisoners!
She swallowed and tried to pull herself from his grasp.
How did you get out, where were you heading! The Rheinlander demanded, shaking her by the shoulders. She said nothing, trying as best she could to betray her guilt in the look she gave him. He grunted and shoved her aside, activating a communicator at his wrist.
Reinhardt here, Ive got one of the prisoners. There has been a breakout; Im assuming the rest are free.
Alright, Ill get a team down there. A voice replied over the commlink. Instantly, an alarm klaxon began to wail.
Youll never stop the Black Flag Corsairs! Delores yelled viciously, spitting in the Rheinlanders face. He grimaced and wiped the spittle from his eyes.
Im keeping this one Kurt, He said into his communicator. Shes just referenced the Black Flag, she knows something we dont.
Take her to the Thunderhawk. The voice replied. The Rheinlander deactivated his commlink and grabbed her roughly by the arm.
You are coming with me,

Kurt Manning ran his fingers through his hair. He cursed and gripped the handrail before him, his face bathed in flashing amber light. The alarm klaxon wailed over his head, nagging at both his ears and his patience. He spun around to face the Spaceport Security Commander.
Take control of things here and keep monitoring the ships down there, if those pirates try to make for their fighters, gun them down.
I understand, The Commander said, fear evident in his eyes. Manning scowled and strode from the raised platform set slightly above the hangar bay floor, his coat swishing once again behind him.
He moved his hands beneath his long leather coat and produced his two blunt-ended plasma shotguns. The shotguns were his signature weapons, firing fragments of metal studded with plasma residue. Two blue targeting lasers beamed out from above the weapons twin barrels when he placed the slightest pressure on the triggers and with one swift spin he could cock and reload them in less than a second.
Sadukar and HiME Units, move to surround hangar bay three immediately. He spoke into a small microphone embedded in his hear. His voice echoed around the Spaceport as it was carried and transmitted through the internal intercom. He would be damned if any Black Flag Corsairs escaped on his watch.

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| S C A R E C R O W |

"See you space cowboy..."