La Marine Nationale Gauloise - Transmission Centre

[Lanakov]

Sender:Sous-Lieutenant Marcel Patulacci - Cuirassé Guillestre
Recipient: La Marine Royale Gauloise
Catégorie: Quatre - strictement confidentiel

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Video playback begins. Marcel Patulacci appears on the screen, still wearing his flight suit. He is visibly shaken, brow arch bleeding, and speaks in a staccato, nervous voice.

Messieurs, mesdames,

I bring worrying news. I have been sent on a solo aggressive reconnaissance within enemy territory, in the Tau-44 system. Upon performing a quick fly by of the key areas of the system, noting no substantial variation on the usual enemy activity, I headed back to the jump hole leading to Tau-23. And... That's when it happened.

*He rubs his temples and emits an audible sigh.*

Upon my arrival at the anomaly, I came across an entire debris field that... that wasn't there when I arrived. Remains of ships, the adversary's... And ours. Rescue pods, whose beacons went silent, one after the other. Upon approaching... Well, that's when I noticed it.
A strange, glowing ship. Triangular shape, thin, very low signature, no life forms aboard that I could pick up. The only ship operational in the vicinity. I quickly deduced it was responsible for the veritable carnage around us, and tried to hail it, naturally to no avail. Given that some of those wrecks were ours, I informed the ship that it was under arrest and was to follow me without opposing resistance. I have trouble remembering what occured next...

You see, th-th-this thing, it did something to my mind. Feelings that weren't mine, in seemingly random bursts, uninvited emotions knocking at my mind... I felt as if something tried to push inside. I-I remember a fight ensued - the ship opened fire with an array of incredible weaponry, tracers I'd never seen before. It ate at my Lynx, there's no putting it in any other way. I fought back to the best of my diminished abilities - the fight was both within and without, mixing in a blur of blue and violet tones, of an bored anger that wasn't mine.

I came to my full senses moments after. It could have been minutes or hours or even days for all I know. What brought me back were the sounds training familiarises us with : fire alarms, malfunctions, notifications... I surfaced amidst a literal hell. My Lynx was slowly drifting, fire tearing through the insides, both engines and inertial dampeners fried. Those came back quickly, thank the King's engineers - I stabilised the ship, just in time to see my aggressor peer at me, almost mockingly, as a cat watching a mouse he'd wounded beyond recovery. Then, powerless as I was, expecting the final blow... The enemy turned tail, calmly as ever, and... Vanished.

Miraculously, the radio started chattering again not long after, and as I limped away from this wretched place, I called for assistance from the Guillestre and told the deck crews to prepare for an emergency landing. I don't think my Lynx will see another patrol. It has been broken with a terrifying meticulousness, with force carefully applied to every pressure point it has. I can't figure out why the adversary chose to spare me. Given its small size and the power of its armaments, I would hazard it had spent its power and needed to withdraw.

Attached file sent from the Guillestre deck crew, showing S-LT's Patulacci's ship moments before his emergency landing

My conclusion, messieurs, mesdames... Is that we're dealing with a new type of Council drone. Its technological level beats anything they've ever had, so I'm assuming they've received help from Sirian shadow groups. The elusive, advanced and morally corrupt Outcasts spring to mind. They'd have a significant advantage in weakening our position and making our internal adversary stronger. The psychological warfare capabilities demonstrated by this drone, however... Are more worrying. I don't know where this technology comes from, nor the full extend of its capabilities. I can't shake the feeling that I was let off easy, my policeman instincts have never been wrong about that before. What I saw and felt today will haunt for a while.

I leave this matter in your capable hands. I do recommend that these matters are kept strictly confidential, and I will make no further mention of them unless required to.

As a final note, I have no guncam to provide, seeing as those were destroyed, much like every other system, nor any ship ID to show. This drone was a ghost, in every meaning.

*He straightens up, then returns to his previous stance*
Thank you for your attention. Sous-lieutenant Patulacci, signing off.

The playback ends. Attached is a medical report attesting Patullaci's wounds to be superficial, though signalling him to be in shock and needing psychological attention further down the line.

16 Septembre, 723 AGS
Fin de la transmission.