Living Legend

[Edward]

Edward found himself positioned precariously between the Admiral and the scientist. Ever a battle of wills and wits, he couldn't help feel out of place as the sole person not involved in the creation of a flagship designed to force the Bretonians to their knees.

Project: Revenge was the culmination of years of work, testing and scientific breakthrough. Men and women had labored in intense secrecy, sworn to silence. Few broke the contract, and all who did found themselves in unmarked graves, a bullet through the skull. Snapping back to reality, Edward focused just in time to hear the generals complaints for the umptenth time. "It is simply unacceptable that the armor will need so much maintenance. We've spent all this time preparing the ship to be the vanguard of our final strikes against the enemies of the Roi. Not for it to be in the workyards almost as much as it's out of them." She snapped at the scientist, who quickly found an interesting divot in the wall to examine as he bore the brunt of her ire.

Stepping in, Edward made sure to cut off that line of thought before the general could continue. "I know it's hard to swallow, but thats the nature of the metal. It needs careful tending to remain up to standard. And even if you were to back out now, we both know that my family is the only known holders of the material."

While not exactly true, Edward was the representive of Teagues Metalworking, a gallic corporation that had recently risen from obscurity with the discovery of a new alloy. Tougher and lighter, it was the cutting edge in spaceborne protection, if one was willing to overlook the short life time it had. The electrified alloy consumed itself, and over the course of months, without careful and specific care, would cease to exist naturally.

Of course, that was where Edward came in. He was his fathers representive here, and he would ensure that the Revenge had enough armor and care to win the war for Gallia. It was only right and dutiful after all.

---

Gazing down at the completed ship, Admiral Leane couldn't help but smile. It had cost nothing less than what was required to outfit three other battleships, but none of them would compete with the deadly prototype that rested before her. Experimental armor, four ion autocannons, three of the upgraded Volee's and two of the new electromagnetically charged flak cannons. The Revenge would be the pride of the Gallic fleet, and the hammer that would drive the final nail into the coffin of the Bretonians. Completed just in time to spearhead the final push into their home system, it would be a gleaming standard bearer of victory, and a symbol of despair.

They'd already arranged for shipyards to always have a berth devoted soley to the Revenge for maintaining it's considerable weapons and armor, and keeping her in fighting shape. They had even torn out three of the hanger bays to fit repair ships, to ensure that she would always have the edge above her opponents.

---

"Alright, fire the engines. We've got a shake down run to perform." Edward watched as Admiral Leane took command of the finest work the Teagues ever produced, and could only watch in awe as the guns fired their charges for the first time, an ancient tradition to mark the beginning of the ships career. None of the guns gave issue. A good omen.