"Odin's" Hammer and Sickle

[Keller]

Without saying anything further, Krsnik would once more pace back to his mentor's ship in a thoughtful manner, mind recalling every single skirmish and duel he'd ever been involved in with this very ship, He lost focus during the transition from the ground into the canopy, only realizing he'd hopped in once he was actually in the seat and that the protective glass had automatically slid back into place, locking with an audible hiss as the ship adjusted itself for take-off.

He felt his gut knot in anger for himself, he knew deep down that his mentor would be ashamed and disappointed by what his former apprentice had become, and more so what he'd done to the ship. There was no point trying to be the man he was, having thrown himself well beyond the point of no-return. The engines no longer hummed during launch procedures, they screamed, a dreadful wail filling the halls as the entire frame moved forward with lethal efficiency in terms of its acceleration. Exiting the hangar was like being kicked in the gut, with the ship reaching top impulse speed along-side thrust assisted movement in a matter of milliseconds, it was a shock to the senses, even for him.

Having flown the ship for most of his teens and adulthood, Krsnik was a little bewildered not having to deal with any of its old quirks anymore, the engines no longer rattled and nearly shut-off when adjusting the output, the guns mounted on the left wing aligned with the holographic cross-hair perfectly, rather than slightly off the mark. And most importantly, all the three main engines gave exactly the same output, no longer being mostly propelled by the one fixated at the center, which at times put unnecessary and dangerous strain on the space-frame.

Thirteen red signatures appeared on his scanner notifications screen, he was approaching them rather quickly, the glow of Odessa beginning to reflect into the canopy with a rather harsh brightness, which the ship rather smartly responded to by darkening the canopy glass for its pilot. It no longer felt like a machine, it felt like a horribly twisted and mangled person that ferried him through the fray of the void.

His mind had already adjourned as to what was going to be done about the captured pilot, protests from the heart ignored and buried under the resolve of cold logic and a soldier's duty to a banner. With a sickening howl from the engines, the pilot of the Odin put it through very rapid and hard maneuvers, guns aligned with the first target as it proceeded head-on, letting the rear of the craft slide out, turning the direct charge into an angled approach, accompanied by a muffled series of tachyon discharges and the explosion of the first dummy craft.

With a feel for how the ship moved, the next five craft went down rather quickly, all in spectacular explosions, preceded only by the orange and gold tachyon bolts that bored literal holes through whatever armor-coating the test targets had. This would continue for the span of a minute, until twelve targets had been wiped off the radar, with only one remaining, the captured pilot who felt as if he were glaring at his doom, doing what he could to defend himself and firing off the weaponry he had at his disposal towards the approaching silhouette of the Odin. None of them hit, and he screamed in fear as he was nearly rammed by the bloody-crimson ship that screamed past him literally, fixating itself on the rear of his ship within a fraction of a second, almost as if its pilot had practiced this technique a million times over through multiple lifetimes.

The next three seconds were futile, complete shield failure and critical thruster damage, followed by the ghastly feeling of being spaced, the prisoner seemed to be able to calm his breathing and feel slight relief at the sight of the Odin apparently abandoning him after turning his mobile confinement into metallic shreds.

But this reprieve was short-lived, with his attacker turning on a dime and heading right for his escape-pod, jagged wings aligned with the center-mass of his body. The radio-streams were filled with a petrified scream, there was no way to escape this, no way to even move from the returning silhouette. The scream abruptly ended and the loud noise faded into nothingness, static engulfing the prisoner's broadcast as his life-signs registered a complete failure, he'd been cut in two and executed with extreme prejudice.

With this, Krsnik would level out his familiar ship and bring it to a halt, waiting for further instructions or an evaluation from Doctor Belov.

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"Knowing Humanity - We will be duty, bloody and unavoidable."