Above the Cretan skies, the first AW/Corsair war....
"Sir! I've got two AW on my tail..."
"Hold them off until we can spare a Centurion wing."
"But sir!"
"Thats an order, pilot."
All was quiet on the day of the attack, the Corsairs never expected such a large force to come seemingly out of nowhere...
"Hellfire Legion gunboats and bombers, sirs this is getting very heavy up here!"
"Don't worry commander, I'm sending for a detachment from Leon and Cadiz, they should be here any moment now."
In all the centuries the Corsairs existed no one unifying faction was able to bring all the families together under one roof. Eventually the Benitez familia was able to gain enough power to assume dominance over the other families through brute force.
"This is Emperador Huerez Benitez from the Emperador Council Chambers in the Capital City. Cruiser squad, what is your situation?"
*static*
"Are there any more capital ships left in this frequency?"
"Aye sir, it's the Talos, the cruiser squadron was taken down by a joint AW/HF bomber wing. I'm attempting to hold off Silvanus's Dreadnaught, but we're down to 2/3 hull. Requesting additional support, or our front line will fail."
"This is Bomber wing Zeta, attempting to reach command I've.... *static*"
"Bomber wing Zeta, what is your situation?"
"We can't hold the out against this firepower! I've failed yo...*static*"
"Centurion wing Alpha, I want you on Zeta's tail...."
"Sir! Talos again, I'm picking up a signal from around the Omega 41 Jumphole."
The allied Asgard Warriors and Hellfire Legionnaires pounded the Corsair line relentlessly. Each bloody inch was taken back by some foolhardy maneuver on the part of the losing side's pilots. They seem to be at a dead lock, both sides having exhausted too many resources to pull back now. Then, an arrowhead line of ships broke the green and red light.
"This is the Brotherhood Flagship Altaneria engaging all enemy targets, sorry gentlemen, but we ran into a bit of trouble getting here. Sephardi, take your wing on the usual targets while Costello and Montoya take on the stationary targets."
The voice from the Altaneria came from a very recognized figure
"Emperador Benitez! We have an Outcast Dreadnaught on scanners!"
"I was wondering where they were hiding, we can't survive much more of this. Contact our reinforcements and tell them to protect the flagship Talos at all costs, they should be jumping into system now."
"I can't contact them, the relay on the docking ring is damaged..."
"Well then get in a Titan and deliver the message personally then."
"This is the Talos, did command order a retreat? Respond."
"This is Emperador Benitez, no we didn't order any such command, what is the situation Talos?"
"Zeta and Alpha squadrons are retreating. The enemy is closing in on us sir."
The Emperador made a mental note to punish both of their families before he drew his last breathe, but before he could order any more commands, a bright flash of light lit up the Cretan sky. The Talos' reactor had gone critical.
"Damn it! Alpha, Zeta squadrons, respond. Form up and protect the docking ring at all costs."
The Emperador's message was met with nothing but static. In space, the Outcast Dreadnaught sailed through the space formerly occupied by the now crushed Talos. When the ship came into the light of the Red Dwarf, the name could be clearly seen. The Altaneria.
"Elder Don, we are in bombardment range of the planet. The orbital defenses are down."
"Good. Target the Council Chambers, located in the Capital City.
Fire!"
A white fireball barreled through Crete's atmosphere, it's destination plain for anyone who was paying attention to the battle overhead. Emperador Huerez had ordered all his advisers and military commanders to evacuate the building, leaving him in the deserted command room. His face gaunt at what had just transpired. The Emperador Council Chambers was adorn with the best the artifact trade could buy, most notably the paintings of all the Emperadors that had served throughout the history of the Corsair civilization. Each looking down at the small, but important terminals that now lay deserted.
The explosion could be seen from space, the Capital City lay in ruins and the Council Chambers, seat of the government of Crete, was nothing more than ashes. Transports were leaving the planet as fast as they could take off. Aboard the Outcast Flagship, everybody was cheering.
"We've done it! We've won!"
"Elder Don, would you like to address the allied fleet?"
"Yes, I think I would like to."
"This is Elder Don Pedro Maniaco commanding the Brotherhood flagship Altaneria, a very well done job brothers. This day will be recorded in the history texts."
Pedro stepped away from the comm system and strolled the deck of the Outcast Dreadnaught. The Elder Don took off his cloak and sat in his command chair, a badge being clearly displayed amongst others.
"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."
Juan Lucendez walked down the corridor of the deserted Altaneria, a museum now that the newly built Memoria was serving. Weekly tours were planned along with the distinguished foreign guests and business-people.
An assistant was trailing Juan as he walked, clanking the deck panels beneath him.
"Don Lucendez, your weekly shipment of Cardamine is arriving from Crete, projected to be 20,000 tons..."
"What?!" They both stopped, the Don's eyes flickered a red haze before calming down.
"I told them to grow 40,000 tons. Thats the trade, 40,000 tons of Cardi for 40,000 tons of food. If they can only provide half the deal, they get half the reward."
The assistant nodded importantly and continued to follow the Outcast.
"Also, your wife says she wants you and your son to come to a family dinner tonight." Both the men stopped and looked at each other.
"No late nights,' or at least thats what she said."
"Thank you, Ridic. I must be alone now, the Elder Don awaits." With that, the assistant bowed and walked off to continue to manage the Don's estate.
Don Juan Lucendez walked through the portal to the bridge of the now decommissioned Altaneria. Sitting on the Captain chair was Elder Don Pedro Maniaco.
Juan bowed quickly before asking his purpose here.
"It should be obvious. I'm remembering our grand victory over the arid world of Crete. I enjoy coming here every now and again to bask in the memory. Please, report on the situation. Are Dons Montoya and Yanez back from Dublin yet?"
"No, Elder Don. They have sent their apologies for their absence. The Mollies have been hard pressed to hold off the encroaching Bretonian Empire. With their influence reaching as far south as Omega 47 and as far North as Kyushu, we've been hard pressed to keep the supplies flowing. "
"Ah, send them my praise, they will need it."
"Yes, Elder Don."
A silence filled the bridge as both men stared out across space.
"And what of our Cardamine shipments to the Rhienlandish Nation-planets? Did the Struttgart Nation accept our proposal?"
"No, Elder Don. But Frankfurt has opened talks, as well as the Brundeshuh Council on New Berlin. As always, the Hessians have our business, whether they want to or not."
"Ever since the House of Rhienland fell apart those arrogant bureaucrats think they still have authority left in them. I want our pirates to infiltrate Struttgart and get the people addicted. One way or another, Don Lucendez, I shall have that system."
"Yes sir."
"And what of our new Hideyoshi Emporer? I trust his royal mandates still allow us access to the Kusari market?"
"Yes, Elder Don. But his attention has been waning. The Hogosha have been getting in our way and the new Shogunate has done little to stop this silent war."
"Then, Don, it seems the Blood Dragons have finally worn out their usefulness. I want a Cardi addicted Emperor in Kusari, Hideyoshi or no. Understood?"
Lucendez walked over to the window and leaned over the newly installed railing.
"Aye sir."
"You seem troubled, my brother. Tell me what is wrong. Has Nerozi given birth yet?"
"Yes, a beautiful baby girl. We haven't decided on the name yet, though." Lucendez walked back to the captain's chair and sighed.
"I should go to Kusari and contact my friends in the Golden Chrysanthemums. The new Kusari Shogunate will come to an understanding with us if I have to assassinate him myself, Don Maniaco." With that, Juan quickly bowed and started to exit, but was stopped by Pedro.
"Juan, wait. I know you hate the title I've given you. I promise after this mission you can go back to raising your new child on Malta. Serve the Brotherhood and you will be rewarded. I promise this to you."
Juan quickly nodded and rushed off the Altaneria, piloting his Sabre out of the docking bays and setting a course for the New Tokyo system.
"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."
Elder Don Montoya was sitting by a large Mahogany table, feet up as he breathed in some Cardimine from the tube going into his nose.
*Damn these blasted contraptions* He thought, obviously annoyed by the discomfort of wearing them. They were just designed for functionality, not discretion or comfort.
On the other side of the large table, the assorted leaders of the Mollys were gathered, some averting Don Montoya's gaze, others silently staring at the pair of feet soiling the table.
With a sigh, the Don began to speak.
Gentlemen, these reports I have in my hand. What are they?
He was met only with silence.
Well, since none of you seem to know, I'll tell you. These, gentlemen, are battle reports from the year that Crete fell. Since then, the Corsairs have become a straggling rabble, whom are completely surrounded by the Hessians and dwindling fast. They have even retreated from the Dublin boarder.
And yet, these other reports, show continued -losses- amongst your men. What am I supposed to do with you lot? I offer training, you take it, you die. I offer equipment, you take it, you die. Tell me, short of bringing the whole damn Outcast fleet down here, how you are to defeat the Bretonians or at least hold your own?
Elder Don Yanez had entered halfway through the little outburst by Don Montoya, and sighed softly. Don Yanez spoke from the crowd on the other side of the table.
You know the Mollys aren't like us, brother. Why do you expect so much from them?
Because Don, quite frankly, I want to go home. I have a life to catch up on, not to mention getting rid of this ridiculous tube going into my nose. I'd rather just breath Maltese air again and gaze upon the gently swaying Cardimine grasses.
Don Montoya, you know our mission. Elder Don Maniaco sent us here for a reason, which he clearly explained. We can't just leave now.
I know, I know, but still, its good to dream isn't it, Raul?
The Molly leaders had been watching the exchange with confusion and surprise, but before they could speak, Don Montoya continued.
Well then its settled. I will send a transmission to Elder Maniaco at once requesting increased shipments of arms and other equipment to Arranmore. Afterwards, I may accompany one of your raiding parties and show them how to fly.
Don Lucendez was leaving the event horizon of the Alpha Jumphole when a breaking news bulletin caught up with his onboard receiver.
Good evening Crete! This is your Outcast New Network anchor signing on.
Today was met with shame and distraught as several Cardamine fields had been burned and subsequently destroyed by the an armed resistance group hiding like children in the mountains and caves of Crete. Selfishly burning our Cardamine has yielded less food shipments to Crete and thus more starvation.
Ever since the Coalition landed and started this guerrilla war with us, we have been suffering for it. As always, if anyone has information on the culprits, please contact your locale Brotherhood outpost at...
Juan shut the receiver off in disgust.
"So that's why I didn't get my shipment." He said to himself, hovering his finger over the cruise switch. Banking his Sabre, he dived back into the Alpha jumphole and transmitted a message.
Comm ID: Don Juan Lucendez
To: All Dons and Elder Don Maniaco
ID Trace: Omicron Alpha, Unknown Location
Displaying...
The Sirius Coalition Revolutionary Army has finally shown it's true colors. Some upstart Captain is hiding on Crete with a contingent of ex-Corsairs. I'm going to defend my property, and my bottom line. If any of you want to bash some Corsair heads while also battling on a planet with a thick enough Cardamine atmosphere to breathe in without a mask, then be my guest.
As for Maniaco's orders, I'm sorry brother, but I must protect my property. It is my birthright and my obligation. I know you will understand.
//End Transmission.
Juan punched in the Cretan coordinates into his autopilot and sat back in his cockpit, reveling in the excitement for the blood ahead.
Meanwhile, on Crete...
"Captain!"
The young Hispanic boy ran up to the towering, yet neatly dressed Coalition captain with a red bandanna around his neck.
"Yes private, what is it?"
"Captain! A message from the Marx sir!"
The Captain held out his mechanical hand and arm and took the datapad from the private. He entered his access code and read the message over, tossing the datapad down on the floor of the cave they were using as a command center and paced in a circle.
Finally stopping, he looked at the private, "Assemble our forces and keep everyone on alert. The battle you and your comrades were looking for has just come."
The private salutes and runs off to inform his compatriots of their duties.
"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."
The smartly attired Dragon Navy helmsmen didnt turn as he addressed his commanding officer. Seated behind him in the command chair, situated higher than the rest of the bridge, as befitting its owners status, Lord Benjamin Laowai leaned forward looking at the view screen. He ran his hands through his long tri-pronged beard Fire across their bows, show them that we insist they stop to chat.
The forward batteries of the battleship Qianlong recoiled as great bolts of blue energy raced out towards the Outcast freighter, narrowly missing her bows.
She is slowing my lord The helmsman stated matter of factly.
Laowai stood, resting his hand on his Katana which was strung lazily from this belt. Open a Channel
A soft beeping sound echoed across the bridge, indicating that the line was active.
This is Lord Benjamin Laowai of the Dragon Navy Battleship Qianlong, you are ordered to drop your cargo immediately
A metallic sounding voiced crackled over the comm. System, This is outrageous, we have a right to be here under the terms of the Outcast Dragon treaty which
Laowai cut him off; A treaty under which the Kusari Dragon government specifically banned the importation of all cardamine and cardamine related products, you will drop your cargo now or we will disable and impound your ship.
An undecipherable gibberish crackled across the speakers, local Maltese profanities that the Qianlongs translation program was unable to make sense of. It cut off suddenly and the helmsman cut in, They have opened their cargo bay doors my Lord, the cargo is being jettisoned as requested
On the screen, small metallic cases drifted out from underneath the Outcasts ship, catching the light of the sun as they tumbled. Laowai confirmed that all the cargo had indeed been dropped then addressed the outcasts again. Outcast vessel, you are clear to proceed, engage your cruise engines and leave the area He stepped down to the level of the bridge crew and addressed his fire control officer, who snapped to attention when he heard his name called. Target those containers and destroy them as soon as the outcast ship is clear
He turned and strode off to the door at the rear of the bridge. Ill be in my quarters should anyone need me
Once in his quarters, he unclipped his katana and placed it on his table, it was a finely kept weapon that had been passed down to him by his mother, its long black scabbard was plain save only for the gold family crest adorning its side. Sitting down on his bed he unclipped his medals of service and merit that he always insisted on wearing when on the bridge, while sometimes cumbersome, they nevertheless did add an air of distinction which all added to the image of command.
Despite his assured appearance, Laowai had fought to reach the position he now maintained, unlike most Dragon nobility, his station had not come down through his father but rather his mother. A Golden Chrysanthemum warrior of the old order, his mother had distinguished herself in the wars against the old Kusari emperor that had finally unseated him and led to the Blood Dragons ascendancy to power. Her star rising further in the ensuing conflicts in which the Hogosha were finally destroyed and their Corsair Allies crushed. In the end, as part of the spoils of war, his mother had taken several Corsairs as servants.
One of whom, became Benjamin Laowais father.
His mothers service record was impeccable, so despite her poor choice for a mate, she could not be touched by the other Dragons. Her son though, was spared no such courtesy. He had learned from a young age that he needed to prove himself. And he had indeed. His skills as a swordsman were second to none, and many of his rivals had fallen to its unforgiving blade in duels of honor. His skill as a fleet commander had been undeniable and he had risen through the ranks steadily until he was eventually appointed as a fleet admiral. Finally, as Lord Benjamin Laowai, he had wed one of the Emperors daughters, placing him third in line for the Dragon throne itself
Still, the social games and hobnobbing of life in the Kusari Nobility did not suit him and he felt his most calm on the bridge of his flagship, the Qianlong.
After this patrol, he would take her back to New Tokyo; he was looking forward to seeing his wife. Unlike many Kusari nobles, he had not married for position; it was but a fringe benefit that came when he had met the woman he loved. Their marriage was considered a shock amongst the Dragon nobility; it was believed that she was marrying far below her station. But the Dragon Emperor was a wise and kind man, he had seen determination in his daughter, and the honorable bearing of Laowai himself, and had consented to the union.
Laowais mixed heritage meant that short of a catastrophe there was no chance he would ever sit upon the Dragon throne, but he harbored no such ambition. He was, at this stage of his life, remarkably lucky; he could truly say he was content.
As he lay on his bed musing to himself, the internal comm. System sparked up, My Lord, there is an incoming message from command
Send it through Laowai said.
The small comm unit next to the bed beeped into life and an electronic voice spoke out
To officer commanding DNS Qianlong, you are requested to hold position and await further instructions, verification code ######
Laowai groaned to himself, the verification code was an admiralty code, which meant that he had no recourse but to do as the message instructed and hold position.
So much for going home he thought.
The cave was lit only by candles as the young boy entered, calling 'Capitan! Capitan! I bring the supplies for the...'
The man with the mechanical left arm rose quickly, harshly ordering him,
'Get outside my son! Keep it away from naked flames!'
The child froze in panic for a moment, then fled outside in terror as his Capitan knelt amongst his circle of followers, hands folded in front of him. They looked mortally afraid.
'My brothers, you need not fear. Though the devil's grass now grows on our beloved Crete, our next attack will cleanse a large number of our Outcast cousins with righteous fire.'
They didn't look convinced. There were mumbled phrases of assent from around him, 'Yes, Padre Jovem', 'Lord will it', but they were deathly afraid, their spirits not yet steeled for the trials to come.
'You have doubt, my children,' he smiled knowingly before explaining, 'yes, the plan will involve loss of life, but that is insignificant in the long run, is it not?'
The conspirators around him looked around, eyes wide with terror. Noone wanted to admit that they were scared, yet Padre Jovem could almost smell the terror.
'In burning the Outcasts from the face of our planet, we save our immortal souls! Only blind courage and devotion to the Lord will see you enter Paradise!'
There was a palpable sense of guilt from Jovem's disciples in the cave, yet he continued.
'I shall show you the power of faith! The power to defeat any odds! The Outcasts can't match God's chosen!'
With that, the young priest thrust his good hand into the flaming brazier which lit the circle in which they were kneeling. He grimaced, but made not a sound. Pain was nothing to him. He would gladly die a martyr and have his men do the same. Now the smell of fear was replaced by cooking flesh, a stark reminder of the Ventru martyrs of centuries previous, how they had become the body of the Saviour as they sacrificed themselves.
His apostles eyes' grew bright with hope, whispering in awe; 'God is great!', 'The heathens shall burn!'.
Padre Adrian o Jovem's crusade was about to either crash and burn, or engulf Crete like a great forest fire. Only God could decide.
The Outcast Don jumped down from his Sabre and walked out into the open-air docking terminal. The harsh Omicron Gamma Red Dwarf blazed in the sky, as Orange as his dream. This Don's dream wasn't just a Cardi-fueled greed, it was a chance to live a peaceful life with his family upon Malta as a Plantation owner, all thanks to the Brotherhood.
It was one of the most popular programs to date, and helped unify the Outcast nation more than any other. The higher you got in the Brotherhood ranks, the more land was parceled out.
This particular man had come out of nowhere and risen to the rank of "Brother" with his superior smuggling skills. He fought in the Great Corsair War and had been present when Crete was bombarded into submission. One of the great advantages of being a Don is the ability to hold land on multiple planets. And this Don always had a fondness for Crete.
"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."
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