The bar commscreen comes to life. On it, an old and worn-out LSF blue and a matching helmet. Behind the pilot, at least as much can the commcam FOV catch, there was a glimpse of a Titan's port wing and a barrage of red-blue neutron projectiles - Corsair Salamancas obviously. The pilot didn't look concerned, he was a veteran, he has many vaporised Corsairs paved his routes through Omicron Delta.
'Boss, I heard the news! Keep 'em cool up there, I'll be commin' in hot, err, dry I mean! Later, Boss, these 'Sair gals are in a bad need of a dance and it looks like they don't plan to let me go without one. Kiss Sophie for me!' Pat Boone laughed loudly as he broken transmission, killed his engines kicking the burners and facing the Corsair Titans.
A second of truth, another three seconds firing at the closest Titan, shields down, a bright Nova and the Corsair was vapor and debris.
'Warning, Shields failed' he heard his onboard computer.
'Not smart' he kicked the burners, evading...
If the stars should appear one night in a thousand years, how would men believe and adore and preserve for many generations the remembrance of the city of God? - from 'Nightfall' by I. Asimov The Outcasts consider Siniestre Nube a sacred place for several reasons. Early explorers discovered a jumphole within the depths of the cloud that leads to a strange world of ringed stars and strange craft. All ships in the burrial ground are placed facing that hole to honor the Alien Spirits. - An Outcast rumor