Part of the crew, part of the ship

[Prototype]

Ships Log, personal memory
Ship Position : Omicron Alpha
Lieutenant on Duty : Commando override intact.
Ship Status : Healing in progress. Reactor output 76%.
Crew Status : Connection intact. 150 parts online.


I listen through my sensors to the sounds and voices which surrounds the open space around the Malta shipyard, the place where the machine-part of me was constructed.
A little push of my thrusters, and I could feel how my body moves to the starboard side.
I am taking a bath in the bright, warm light of the star above me.
The soft feeling of the solar wind, kissing my outer hull, nearly let me forget my sorrow:
The loss of the 16 biological parts I suffered as I defended myself to this dreaded Liberty convoy still sends pain to my neural net.
For a short moment, I think again about dropping the mask which hides my true personality and to show the other Outcasts what they would never suspect. But I fear their reaction, as soon as they realize the degree of my alien nature. What will they think about me? Will they fear me? Will they hate me?
Will they dismantle me and try to unveil the secret of my life, which is even a secret to me?
Will I be an outcast in between the Outcasts?
A strange com-signal makes my mind stop wandering... time to wake up.
Scanning the spectrum... switching through the channels...
There it is again!
A Corsair transponder!
Here, in the heart of the Outcast home system?
But what is more... its signature shows markings of an HAF-pilot.
With another boost of my thrusters, I swing again starboard, pointing my front to Malta.
Malta is the home of my biologic parts.
Malta is the home of the orange dream.
Malta is the centre of the Outcast culture.
It's the centre of my life.
Nobody should ever harm it.
Squeezing more energy out of my damaged power plant, I head forward, riding on the gravimetric wave which encircles the most beautiful planet in the Universe.

Carefully I arrange my biological parts, raise the shields to maximum power, set my offensive systems online, and open the communication system... naturally with the voice of Mrs. Oz:
"This is captain Korrolew, OC destroyer Soul.of.Justice. We are hailing the Corsair vessel, which hides somewhere in this system. Leave at once or face the consequences."
The battle-siren in my cramped corridors sounds like blowing the horn for hunting season.


1 hour later.


Much ado about nothing
Someone, who claimed to be the commanding officer of the HAF, parked his Corsair-fighter in the remains of the Hispania.
How dared he!
He declared that he used to pray to his ancestors there.
Well, he prayed to them, and we did the best to take care for him seeing them again:
As I slowly moved my body aside the Hispania, one of our Sabres rushed in, and, with a perfectly aimed shot, kicked the foolish guy out of his shoes.
His last voice contact showed he ejected out of his doomed fighter.
But as we arrested the escape-pod it was empty...somehow he took us for a ride. I guess this was another attempt of the Corsairs to secretly gain information about our strategic defences.
They will never succeed.

***Transmission end***



//For any ideas or suggests, please PM me.