Operation Code: “Sombra Asunto”

[eigos]

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Cmd. Socorro Pelaez	╔══════════════════════════════════════════════════════╗ INCOMING TRANSMISSION [LIVE] AUDIO FEED: [ENABLED] VIDEO FEED: [ENABLED] MESSAGING: [AVAILABLE] Date: 28-DEC-822; Time: 21:18 Subject: [CLASSIFIED] Priority: █ █ █ ▒ ▒ Encryption: [MEDIUM] ╚══════════════════════════════════════════════════════╝	Dir. Diego Rojas
Planet Malta, Omicron Alpha	│SENDER├─────── RELAY ONLINE ───────┤RECIPIENT│	Bastia Station, Omicron 85

The shift was over more than an hour ago, but director Rojas was expecting to have a talk with a certain Comandante he personally knew all too well. The live transmission was supposed to happen at 20:30 sharp, but for some reason Cmd. Socorro Pelaez set his transponder status as “busy” and wrote a short message “got delayed, wait for me – it’s important”. So Diego lit up a smoke and waited…

VOX System: *bleep* Incoming Transmission!

Diego: Oh, LOOK who -- *accepts transmission* …decided to call! You sleazy looking, nerve destroying, no-good piece of -- *gets interrupted*

Socorro: Wow, you’re definitely on a roll there, chief! Now, I know you are mad at me, but –

Diego: Oh no, I’M CALM, and you are STILL here! Because back in my day as Major, whoever came in late for a meeting with me, DIDN’T SURVIVE TO TELL ABOUT IT!!

*a pause ensues, Diego demonstratively crunches his burnt out cigar on the ash tray*

Socorro: I was delayed, Diego. It’s Friday and the higher-ups got drunk again… wouldn’t leave the quarters. I had to wait until everyone left to ensure we had complete privacy.

Diego: I know those bastards. But what do you have to hide from them? They are the ones who authorized this “project”!

Socorro: They signed what they were told to sign, but they aren’t briefed on the bigger picture. You are going to hate me for this, but I am just gonna say it – you have 6 days less for the deadline now. This has got to be ready before 25-th of January.

Diego: I am always two steps ahead of you and your dimwit handlers… I told Alonzo to speed things up the day we started, exactly one week shorter on the deadline. Make that even shorter and I will personally pick up that pile of junk and shove it up your most tender places.

Socorro: And this is exactly why they assigned you and your team for this project. If we had more people like you, this shipyard wouldn’t need 3 directors. Looks like I didn’t have to call you after all -- *a smirk of embarrassment crawls up his face*

Diego: You may have wasted MY time, but now I am going to waste YOURS. Because you are going to tell me every detail that your direct superiors don’t know nothing about. Starting with… what the hell is this crate for and who are you trying to kill with it, besides the very pilot that flies it?!

Socorro: Heh, believe it or not, I knew you were going to ask. A stupid rank in the Maltese Navy was never the requirement for getting to the juicy info… but being slick gets you there. Diego, what do you know of our operations in Gallic space?

Diego: That base in Lorraine…Torino, was it? I heard it was a hole with lowlifes who are working to fix it up and prepare for cardamine business. I am amazed it’s still standing and our military ain’t the ones keeping it that way.

Socorro: Gallia mopped the floor with Kusari, ate up the Colonials and is still hungry for Bretonia and Liberty. In the face of that, our military has but to sneeze in their general direction… and those maniacs will swing around and suplex us by our chest hair. I hear they are real busy in Leeds and California right now. But even so, we still have major issues – the scumbag contingent in Gallia is now active more than ever and they have noticed us.

Diego: The Council… and those rag-tag band of Brigands, didn’t we pay those gnats?

Socorro: We did, they are keeping their distance and supply our base now and then. But The Council has it out for us. I hear some of them are helping maintain Liberty’s borders. Thing is, they’ve got a terrorist bastard son of a faction, named The Maquis – rumor has it, they are too loyal to bribe off. But even they are not the issue! You see, there is a 4-th player in this game… a shady bunch that calls themselves Unione Corse.

Diego: Uh-huh. What are those bastards capable of?

Socorro: They have the smallest fleet of all… snubcraft. But you don’t win a war by throwing bricks – you pay others to do it for you. When they want something, they put their fingers up that “something”s butt until they come out on the opposite side. Our management doesn't like that… it is not money they want – it’s the stuff that makes the money, like our cardamine. Until recently we had a deal to split profits, but that changed last week when they showed up with an offer that could make Interspace Commerce curl up in the fetal position right on the corner.

Diego: So you cooked up that project here to do hard bargaining with them 4 weeks from now?

Socorro: My friend…we bargain with noone. We are going to test them so hard, until there’s nothing left to test on. A war where every credit we spend, they would pay quadrupal that amount. There was a closed conference exactly a week before you received the project. The initial idea was to send a pack of “Montante” gunships with a few “Cutlass” bombers to be cost effective. The base has enough knuckleheads to crew the ships, most of them were actually cardi farmers… god knows where we brought them all from.

Diego: So we ain’t losing much even if those Corso’s bring on some whoop-ass on us.

Socorro: Exactly. But at the last moment in that meeting, someone from the Torino security crew stood up and said he had a better idea. Imagine, he said, a ship with 1,5 times more firepower than 2 gunships and less maintenance costs. Also imagine it could be built within weeks with simplified handling that allows it to be flown by a single pilot. Does that sound familiar?

Diego: Hell… I never thought of it this way! That guy is genius, I wanna meet him! What is his name?

Socorro: Ka…Kadego… something like that. He got assigned to pilot that thing and said he wanted to name the ship after his grandpa or something. Yeah, like we’d let that happen -- *gets interrupted*

Diego: Son, I think I heard enough for today. It’s past 11 p.m. and some of us have to actually show up to work on Saturdays. And by that I don’t mean you! You will hear from me when I wanna know more about these matters.

Socorro: Oh yeah, absolutely. And sorry for the deadline crunch – I’m gonna make it up to you when -- *gets interrupted again*

Diego: YOU just make sure that deadline doesen’t shrink any further, or I will speedmail that junk galley straight to your face, got it? Good night and thanks for the information.

Socorro: You got it, chief. Good night.

VOX System: *bleep* Transmission Ended.

Diego (talking to self): Kadego, you fool... you're in for it now, first thing tomorrow. I haven’t heard from you in a year and now... you're in a bigger mess than I thought. If YOU fly that ship, that'll make you priority numero uno target and I'll be served papers for your funeral, just like it happened with your grandfather!! Not on my watch, boy... not like that, you ain’t.