To: Corsairs of Omicron Gamma

[Vorandril]

Vorandril is now obviously rather mad, not in his usual seat but now at the communications console, "I would apologize, but this isn't excusable. Who was doing this? They have either my guns to answer to, or yours. Pheonix is not a group for starting fights, especially not with the Corsairs. What manner of hair brained IDIOT picks fights with a people who have superior numbers and superior firepower? And all for petty old grudges!"

The man runs his hands through his hair, "I came to you asking for docking rights for food and medicine. I still hold that request for the Eradicahn, sir. As for the other members of Pheonix..."

He growled out the words, "There is indeed going to be a reckoning. And it will be delivered by putting boot to *ss."

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Fighting to your last breath is a benchmark, not a goal.