Bretonian Armed Forces Defense Intelligence Staff (DIS) (iRP) (AO)

[Dieter Schprokets]

The dogfight had been a long one. And a lonely one. Only one enemy to keep her company.

The young Bretonian pilot's hands were shaking from exhaustion, and she was soaked in sweat, half formed from fear, half exertion. The Corsair pilot, presumably, was also as stressed.

Good thing too. Made him screw up.

"EK'd too long, my friend.", she thought as she pressed the trigger to fire the minirazor.

The enemy fighter's port side essentially was sheared off by the plasma. Soon after, a pod blew out of the tumbling fighter.

The Bretonian tracked in the pod closer, and arrested the relative motion of the pod. She could see the pilot's face. He was uninjured. He smiled and signaled thumbs up, as if to say "good one."

She did not smile back.

Rather, she waited for the power levels to be restored from the minirazor blast.

And fired again. The pod, and the Corsair inside, simply ceased to exist.

"That was for my father, you son of a ..."

The Templar thrusted away, and Catharine Brock set cruise for home.

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