The Mirrored Foe

[Lucend]

Rhodes Shipyards lay at the very edge of charted space in the Omicron 91 system. So far, there had been mixed reports of Nomadic alien activity in the bordering systems, but 91 seemed fairly benign. Even though Planet Lesbos and the surrounding nebulous fields held artifacts from an ancient and terrible power, the system had been dead for some time, until a Brotherhood expedition was sent in to explore and report. And that was many, -many- years ago.

The Cazadora, like many of the Brotherhood's capital-class ships, was in dry dock receiving a hull and software upgrade. The crew drank themselves to sleep in the bar and the ship was running on minimal power.

...

Perfect time for some eavesdropping.

A man, indistinguishable from any ordinary Corsair stroll through the station briskly, gaining speed as he reached his goal. Quickly, he ducked into a hall to avoid a staggering drunk, waiting until his cries died down to continue.

Finally he made it to the docking hatch of the Cazadora. Quickly and silently he entered a code that deactivated the security and allowed him access to the the ship. Again moving quickly and quietly around corners and up ladders, he reached the doors to the bridge of the monstrous ship. With the same indifference, he entered his code and the doors slid open allowing him access to the bridge.

The bridge of the Cazadora was stunning, even dark and dead as it was. The front and half the sides of the bridge had a large plasti-metal alloy window, allowing almost 180 degrees of observation of the battlefield. (With computer monitors that displayed the rear, those were blank now) The nebula itself outside was lit by Rhodes as small particulate matter bounced off the windows and shimmered as bits of copper and trace metals floated away.

The man was slightly taken aback, he had remembered commanding this vessel only once before. He remembered his peers scolding him on improper combat protocol that had almost cost them a battle above Crete. Since that time, he had a sour taste in his mouth for capital ships, preferring the isolation of a Titan or Praetorian.

In any case, he was on a mission. He drew his pistol and set it down on the console next to him, bringing up a boot-up screen and typing furiously. He stopped, frozen in the cold light of the monitor. Grabbing for his pistol and swiveling in his chair, he aimed it at the door where another stood in the portal.

"Damn it." The man said, putting the gun down.

"You really shouldn't sneak up on me like that, it's been a rough couple of months you know."

---

"The thirteen saloons that had lined the one street of Seney had not left a trace. The foundations of the Mansion House hotel stuck up above the ground. The stone was chipped and split by the fire. It was all that was left of the town of Seney. Even the surface had been burned off the ground.
Nick looked at the burned-over stretch of hillside, where he had expected to find the scattered houses of the town and then walked down the railroad track to the bridge over the river. The river was there."

Osaika Moto, the Fall and Rise of a Kusari Farmer

Juan Lucendez, √ Corsair