RUN AWAY!

[Eppy]

In the docking bay of Farallan, an older tech, sporting a wrinkled mug with brown eyes and a Sean-Connery-Type facial hair assembly, and a very large plasma torch. He wasn't sure how to handle this whole situation-his captain had been forced out of her position by a Corsair admiral with little respect for the ways of the Zoner. His beloved Farallan was no doubt going to be dropped into the sun, for no other reason than the sheer incompetence of the Corsairs. The only reason they were tolerated was their business from Theta's Freeport food production. And since they had lost most of their dreadnought force in 4.82, there had even been talk among his AW contacts of a possible invasion. The Zoner Council was supposedly discussing terms with the mercenary fleet at that very moment.

But before all that, there was still his ship to save. He just didn't have any clue as to how.

*******************************************

Fantasia hurtled towards the Dublin jump hole, her engine's rumble flooding the entire ship.

"Incoming contacts!"

"What? Where?"

"Zoner Juggernaut! Ten O'clock, closing fast! Weapons powering up..."

"There's no possibility of outrunning them." Willow frowned distastefully.

"We'll have to fight. Unfortunately for them, that thing handles like the proverbial bagel." Clair smiled grimly, crossing her legs.

"And what does that make us?"

"A doughnut. The inherent sugars allow us a much better accelleration and maneuverability."

"That analogy is beautiful."

"Thank you. Bring us to bear, helm! All forward guns, FIRE!"

Massive white lances arced out from the Fantasia, impacting against the shields of the larger, slower Zoner command ship. The larger vessel returned fire, with marginal sucess. Net shield loss was at a fair balance.

"Interesting." the corners of Willlow's mouth twitched upward.

---

Quick comment - we thought that Panzer was the Leader, Swift. -Agmen

Which Dreadnought was that?

One of your nine.