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legoshi · 05-11-2025, 02:44 PM,

Sender ID

Ray Sombra

Location

Freeport 9, Omicron Theta

Recipient

Deterrence High Command

Dear Deterrence High Command,

I conducted a patrol operation along the established Sigma-13 → Honshu trade corridor, targeting Kusari shipping with strategic value.

At 13:09 Standard Time, I intercepted a Kishiro Technologies Transport – Type: Samura-Kishiro K70j "Akegata", Registry: Kishiro-Tokugawa Maru. No escort. Cargo hold at 62% capacity, carrying beryllium ore, processed foodstuffs, and high-density Kyushu rice pods.

I engaged immediately. The transport attempted a distress call, which was neutralized with an EMP burst. Defensive systems were laughably inadequate—optimized for maximum freight, not survival.

Boarding commenced at Docking Bay 3 via breaching charges. Our strike teams secured the vessel within minutes. No casualties were sustained. I personally assumed control of the bridge and redirected the ship toward the Omicron-Theta corridor.

A brief blip on long-range sensors indicated a Gas Miners Guild patrol, but I lost them in the Sigma-13 debris field by cycling false jump signatures.

Upon successful extraction, I re-designated the vessel under Corsair command. Effective immediately, the transport operates under the name SantaDomingo, flagged from Crete. Current heading: Tripoli Shipyard, where retrofitting is underway. I intend to repurpose the ship for high-volume artifact runs into Kusari and Liberty border zones.

From this day forward, the SantaDomingo shall sail under Corsair colors as the Golden Lance of Crete—reborn from Kishiro greed, and now forged into a symbol of Corsair resolve.

Outcome:

Kishiro Technologies vessel captured and renamed: SantaDomingo

Estimated cargo value: 1.2 million credits

Ship intact, no Corsair losses

Kishiro Technologies unable to send any alerts – full electronic suppression successful

Route back to Omicron systems remains uncompromised

Pilot’s Note:

Kishiro grows careless in its hunger for expansion. They stretch too thin into neutral space without proper defense. We will make examples of them—again and again. The SantaDomingo will not only move our wealth but carry our name into every system that doubts our strength.

End of Report

For the Empire. For Crete.
Rey Sombra, Vanguard

Knusperflakes · 05-20-2025, 10:56 PM,

Sender ID

Commander Javier Hernandez

Location

Planet Crete, Omicron Gamma

Recipient

All brave Corsarios

Saludos Senores,

I just returned to Creta after a highly interesting encounter with a Rheinlander in Athos…his callsign was MND}-SCHATTEN~1-1. Normally, I would have shot him down without hesitation, but he surprisingly helped me out in a fierce battle against some hunters in the area so I decided to let him live at least to tell his story. And it certainly was worth the paciencia!

He informed me that a certain group of Rheinlanders named SKULL are pretending to be part of the Rheinland intelligence service MND, while they are allegedly infected by nomads…at least that is what he implied. It is unclear how much we can trust his words, but better to be safe than sorry and make sure our transports and escorts are informed and protected adequately. He also mentioned a bounty of 1M creditos for handing them over alive, I assume in their live pods, should we get our hands on any of them. I attached the communications with the contact frequency below for your reference.

Communications with MND-SCHATTEN-1-1

For the Glory of the Imperio Corsario,
Cmdr. Javier Hernandez

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Knusperflakes · 05-22-2025, 10:33 PM,

Sender ID

Commander Javier Hernandez

Location

Planet Crete, Omicron Gamma

Recipient

Deterrence Conclave

Honorable Conclave,

On my routine patrol in Omicron Delta, I noticed a hostile base on my long range scanners … it seems to go by the name “Grootegeluk Depot” … que nombre horroroso per una estacion! Anyway, it does seem like it would be worth exploring the base and its defense mechanisms. Having such an installation close to our glorious Reincarnation Outpost is certainly not a situation the Imperio wants to tolerate for a long time…

If our wise Conclave decides to take action, be assured of my assistance!

[Image: 1ECqL5W.png]

For the Glory of the Imperio Corsario,
Cmdr. Javier Hernandez

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Knusperflakes · 05-23-2025, 06:42 PM,

Sender ID

Marcos Espinoza

Location

Reincarnation Outpost, Omicron Delta

Recipient

The Deterrence Conclave

Buenos días Señores,

I had a rather unpleasant encounter with our neighbors from the Core in Omicron Delta. Not that our usual meetings are guided by welcoming friendliness, but it does appear like those hunters and their lap dogs Phoenix are up to something…

Two large ships, one fighter as well as in total two Phoenix ships were stationed nearby Reincarnation Outpost, apparently to block incoming and outgoing Corsair vessels. In our brief conversation they stated their intent to initiate an assault on our Outpost – what fools they are to believe they will make it even close to it without exploding like a torpedo. They still believed we are starving on Crete; their education system seems to be even worse than we thought … or maybe it is simply pure ignorance… ¿quién sabe? My presence seems to have confused them so much, they even started shooting each other. Es realmente un misterio what is going on in their minds. Not even Santa Raba could save them anymore...
Anyway, I suggest to be prepared for their attacks rather sooner than later. I have attached some captured footage as well as the communication logs to this report.

Ravenna Vult!

captured images

conversation logs

Glory to the Imperio!
Marcos Espinoza, Logistics Officer

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Costa_D_Sol · (This post was last modified: 06-02-2025, 03:42 PM by Costa_D_Sol.)

Sender ID

Costa Del Sol

Location

Planet Crete, Omicron Gamma

Recipient

Corsair Conclave Network

Hermanos y hermanas,

Today, I completed one of the most dangerous runs of my career. The Reincarnation Base—our outpost, our stronghold—was obliterated in a brutal assault by the Core and their allies. They came with overwhelming force, and from what little chatter made it through the interference, it was a Honorable Last Stand of our Comrades.

But we are Corsairs. We do not forget our people, and we do not leave them to die alone in the void.

I launched in the Nephilim as soon as the emergency signal reached Crete. By the time I arrived in the sector, Reincarnation Base was reduced to twisted wreckage—still burning in the cold.

I located life pods and heat signatures clinging to fragments of the station. Engines flaring, shields straining under radiation and debris impacts, I pulled in as many survivors as I could—445 in total. Medics, engineers, security officers… exhausted, wounded, but alive.

We touched down on Crete an hour ago. Survivors are in medical quarantine receiving full care. Many are asking for weapons already—ready to rejoin the fight.

The Core may have destroyed Reincarnation Base, but they only hardened our resolve. Every life saved is another blade in the heart of our enemies.

We will rebuild. We will retaliate. And we will never forget.

Por el honor Corsario.
Por Crete.
[Image: STPtppp.png]

Costa Del Sol, Vanguard

Deterrence's Conclave · (This post was last modified: 06-14-2025, 06:19 PM by Deterrence's Conclave.)

Sender ID

Praetor Ruben Diaz

Location

Planet Crete, Omicron Gamma

Recipient

Deterrence Broadcast

Hermanos y hermanas di Creta,

The lifeblood of our Imperio flows not only through our cannons but through the ancient stones we carry, the artifacts of a forgotten power, whispered about in every corner of Sirius. These relics are more than mere cargo: They are symbols of our strength, our legacy, and our source of income. In the light of increasing demand and political shifts across the House spaces, The Deterrence High Command hereby initiates a renewed smuggling operation under the directive “Lineas de Sangre”.

Our goal: Reinforce and expand our artifact supply chains into key Freeports operated by Junkers, Freelancer and neutral intermediaries.

You are to prepare for a large-scale, multi-leg convoy of artifact shipments departing Epirus Mooring Terminal at Planet Crete starting al amanecer del 15-06-835 AS. The designated destinations are:

Halifax Freeport, Leeds System
Noshima Freeport, Shikoku System
Kreuzberg Depot, New Berlin System

Each stop serves as a distribution point for our influence, fueling Bretonia's greed, Rheinland's decadence and corruption, and Kusari's suicidal curiosity.

Ravenna Vult!

Por la gloria del Imperio!
Praetor Ruben Diaz

John'DTR'Grey · 06-16-2025, 07:57 AM,

Sender ID

Xavier Del Rio

Location

Aboard The Impoluto

Recipient

Ruben Diaz

Buenos días,

This is Xavier, we have been assigned with the task of providing several units of artifacts. We are working under the 12th "ala expedicionaria".

We did establish a more or less safe route to Noshima, seems the Kusarians don't expect us to go using they'r back door, apparently they are having enough to chew with the Libertonians in the southern border, our cloaking in the local nebulae's, and the safe passage provided by our amigos from Hogosha works.

The 12th ala expedicionaria will try its best to provide the same results in the future, and also establish the same passages into the heart of the corrupted and undisciplined state of Rheiland.

Vista y al Cielo!

The Impoluto in the dark side

<Saludos vaqueros, happy hunting!>
Xavier Del Rio

Slimy · 06-29-2025, 11:40 PM,

Sender ID

Sacramento Serrano

Location

Classified

Recipient

Deterrence High Command; The Corsair Elders.

Dear Deterrence High Command, my beloved Corsair Elders.

My designation is Sacramento Serrano, a name etched into the birth ledgers of Planet Crete on July 10th, 835 A.S.
How my path crossed with my ships is a tale for another time, a memory best kept in the void.
My chronicle began with the Executor, Daní Herrera, whose legend casts a long shadow over my own adventures. This is the log of the Corsair's Cache.
It all began on Crete, where I loaded the mighty DTR-CCS>Galindo with artifacts and set my course for the stars.

Departure from Planet Crete

—

Omega-41 felt like a tomb.
The neutron star rendered my systems useless, a chilling darkness that my scanners couldn't penetrate.
My Corsair blood was my only guide, a primal defiance that burned through the fear.
"If it comes," I swore, "I'll take it with me, or die protecting my Cretan honor."
Leon Base slid by, a fleeting speck of light, but the quiet felt like a prelude to a scream.

—

The jump to Omega-5 was a cold relief.
The dead silence of the void remained, but my scanners once again cut through the dark.
I navigated the short distance to the Omega-11 jumphole without incident, the quiet feeling less like peace and more like a held breath.

The Jump to Omega-11

—

The silence of the void shattered the moment I entered Omega-11.
Zoner traders hailed me, their chatter a jarring contrast.
I gave them a curt "fine" and a warning:
They were fortunate my cargo demanded speed.
Otherwise, our meeting would've been less cordial.
As I passed the red giant, a distant memory flickered - a child's dream of starlight.
I felt a surge of cold satisfaction.
I wasn't living a dream; I was surviving it.
The Dresden jumphole beckoned, pulling me toward the Red Hessian heartland.
My grievance with them, a simmering fury, will be addressed in due time.

Omega-5 and its beauty

—

The Dresden system was a ghost town.
The absence of Hessian patrols, the complete lack of traders - it was uncanny.
Only a fool would run these lanes, ripe for the picking by them or by me.
For now, the emptiness is a gift, a clear path through a graveyard.

Dresden, a way to a hearth

—

Entering the New Berlin system, my blood pressure spiked.
I was in the heart of the Rheinland beast.
A government vessel spotting me here would be a death sentence.
I sent a grim prayer to Santa Raba, asking for a clear path, knowing that if I were found, I would either annihilate them or die in the attempt.
As I burned past Bonn Station, their guns opened up, a pointless show of force against my vessel's speed.
A quiet stretch of void led me to my destination:
Kreuzberg Depot, a Junker hideout lost in the New Berlin system.
My artifact shipments, always in demand for their "R&D," were eagerly received.
In return for the risk, they paid me well and, as always, restocked my cargo holds with a full load of black market munitions.
Their gratitude was a grim currency.

The hearth of the beast

—

The voyage back to Crete was a cold, silent meditation.
It ended when the Hessian appeared - a flicker of arrogance on the comms, demanding my cargo and a king's ransom of half a million creditos for my breath.
The gall of it was almost beautiful.
I offered him a chance to live, a courtesy he answered with fire.
His frigate was just scrap waiting for a purpose.
My Raba consumed him, a silent maw of steel and plasma.
He died trying to crack an iron will, a soul forged in the heart of Crete.
He forgot that a Sair's gaze remains calm, even as the world around him burns to ash.
There is no sorrow in this void, only a dead man's bounty waiting to be claimed.

The price of a fool

—

Crete. After the Dresden run, the name itself was a cold comfort.
I shed my cargo and found the fleeting oblivion of a good rum at the bar.
The DTR-CCS>Cucaracha was already waiting.
I loaded her with artifacts and prepared to launch again, another haul into the black.

—

Again, I slipped through Omega-41 and Omega-5, untouched by the void's grasp.
I arrived in the Cambridge system, a phantom hidden from the patrols in the icy fields.
My destination: New London.
The BAF, BMM, and CDI patrols were everywhere, but they never saw me. I don't know if they're blind or if my systems are just that good.
Either way, they missed me.

Camebridges icy clouds

—

New London. Another system of fools.
Police blips speckled my scanners, but their eyes were sealed.
I carved a path through the red void at the core of Bretonian society, a phantom savoring the burn of cold rum, my passage undisturbed.

The belly of fools

—

I arrived in the Leeds system, just a short burn from Halifax Freeport.
My scanners picked up a CDI-Deputy. He was not prepared for what followed.
I intercepted and disabled his ship, a swift act of piracy.
I demanded 25,000 credits for his life, or he would die under the guns of the DTR-CCS>Cucaracha.

But he was low on cash, a fool's mistake.
He countered with a far more enticing offer: a full shipment of Bretonian hull panels and weaponry for the mighty Imperio of Crete.
It was too good to be true, so I ensured he understood the terms.
He seemed like a man of his word, and the potential windfall was far better than a paltry sum of credits.
I let him go and proceeded to Halifax Freeport to unload my cargo.

The final bretonian destination

—

A generous payment and a cargo hold full of military surplus from the Freelancer was my reward.
But the moment I reached the Cambridge system, the Bretonian police were waiting.
They descended on me with full force - multiple fighters, bombers, gunboats, and a battleship.
I was outmatched.

I dumped my cargo.
My blood is Cretan, but my will is not suicidal.
I will return for vengeance, but with an armada of Sairs at my side.
I dropped my shields and emptied the power core in a single surge, forcing a jump to Omicron Gamma.
A torpedo hit me, but I made it to Planet Crete, my ship a broken husk.

They will pay for this.

—

Once I landed on Planet Crete, I gave my beloved Cucaracha in the skillful hands of Cretes finest shipworkers.
I went to the bar drinking a few bottles of rum, praising santa raba that he protected me and to calm the shock of this event.
I also visited the Corsair Elders… but they told me to keep still, the Bretonian time will come but for now they ain’t a real threat and will be dealt with once they are a worthy opponent for the Cretan Imperio.
Somehow struck with sadness not to get my revenge in mean time I prepared the DTR-CCS>Galindo again and typed in a new destination. I launched into the darkest of voids again.

—

My ship, the wounded Cucaracha, was left in the hands of Crete's best.
I found the nearest bar, using rum to quiet the trembling in my hands and a prayer to Santa Raba for my survival.

I went to the Corsair Elders, seeking permission for vengeance, but they denied me.
"Their time will come," they said. "They are not yet a worthy opponent."
A cold sadness settled over me.
Without revenge to guide me, I simply prepared the DTR-CCS>Galindo for the next job and launched back into the void.

—

Kusari. That was the destination.
I slammed the throttle through Omicron Theta, a blur of speed and light.

I arrived in Sigma-17, where the silence was broken by the petty demands of the Gasminers Guild.
They tried to harass me, but I was faster.
I was smarter. I left them in the void, a ghost on their scanners.
I continued through Sigma-17 unhindered, a phantom on my way to Kusari.

The wonderful blue sight

—

In Omega-19, those micho da putas from the Gasminers Guild tried to harass me again. They were relentless, but I am better.
I slipped through the cracks of their scanners, a ghost in the void.
I left them behind, unhindered, on my way to the Honshu system.

The green gifting life

—

The Honshu system was a ghost.
No Blood Dragons, no Golden Chrysanthemums, no Farmers Alliance scum, and no Kusari police or military.
The silence was unnerving.
Had the chaos just moved elsewhere?
I took a moment to appreciate the beautiful scenery, a cold comfort from the violence of the Omegas and Omegas.

I was greeted with a torrent of fire as I approached the Osaka Storage Facility.
But their guns were toys.
My Raba tore through the void, ignoring their hails, and I slammed through the jumpgate to the New Tokyo System.
What awaited me there was a story for itself.

A warm kusarian welcome

—

I glanced at my scanners and swore.
A Kusari Naval Officer, right on top of me.
I slammed the throttle to cruise, a desperate burn for the trade lane.
Just as I reached it, the officer shut it down.

I was exposed. At their mercy. Or so it seemed.

I hailed the vessel, demanding to know what the hell was happening.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," the baffled officer responded.
I gave him my coldest, most logical lie: I was a journalist, a civilian travel writer for a magazine on Planet Crete. Baffled, he let himself be played. He gave me permission for my "photo session" while he waited for some smugglers. A fool. He could have had a bounty on my head. Instead, he got a lie.

I hit cruise speed and tore toward the Shikoku Jumpgate. Before I disappeared, I snapped a picture of Planet New Tokyo, a monument under the protection of the KNF. The irony was not lost on me.

The beginning of a travel magazine

—

I reached the Shikoku System, a welcome silence after the chaos.
I made it to the Noshima Freeport without issue, where the Freelancers were eagerly awaiting my artifacts.
They paid me a king's fortune and, as a bonus, filled my cargo hold with black-market pharmaceuticals for the sick on Planet Crete.
A ruthless business, but one with a strange sense of honor.

Wonders over wonders

Medical trading

—

In the grim dark reaches of the void, there is no glory, only the grind.

Two hundred thousand... it's just a number in a ledger.
A mountain of dead rock clawed from the depths of forgotten spaces, moved from one desolate corner of the galaxy to another.
A grim parade of inert trophies for the soulless elite.

The price wasn't paid in credits.
It was paid in blood.
Good friends - their names are now just whispers on the comms, swallowed by the void. Foes were simply noise to be silenced, their screams just another part of the warp's static.

I have no need for a name of honor.
I've earned a title that speaks the cold truth of the work.
I hereby ask the Corsair Elders to mark my ledger with a grim acceptance:
"The Relic Hauler," for the cargo I carry.
And let them call me "The Demandless Reaper," for I have reaped creditos without demanding them.

This is Sacramento Serrano, on his way to defend Deterrence Sanctum and drinking his rum.

Over and out.

For the Empire. For Crete. For the Elders!
Sacramento Serrano

Bishop_zehel · 07-24-2025, 07:31 AM,

Sender ID

Commander Ricardo Sanchez

Location

Deterrence Sanctum, Omicron Gamma System

Recipient

Corsairs High Command

Subject: A Moment of relaxation and realization

Greetings High Command, elders and the members of the Corsair Council,

Firstly, allow me to present my hearful gratitude and congratulations to the brave warriors of our imperio, who were successful in destroying the hideous agenda of the Core and Phoenix battlegroup. From our reports and the looks for their progression it was clear that their agenda this time was the destruction of "Deterrence Sanctum".

After the fall of Reincarnation Outpost in Omicron Delta the members of the core phoenix alliance might have thought that it was the right time to hit our People at the heart of our home world, but what they didn't expect was that, the corsair forces in gamma were ready to send their pilots and crew members back to their home in pine coffins. They never expected such a successful retaliation from our forces.

Now coming to the important discussion, even though we were able to defend the pride and honor of our Ancestors, it is still too early to say that our enemies have given up on their iron clad agenda of taking over the omicrons and as we all are aware the only thing keep that from happening is the existence of Corsairs. With the growing threat and issues in mind i would like to make a small proposal to the elders.

Increasing the Number of Patrols in the Omicrons, Even though we are doing it I believe that is not enough to keep our enemies and their movements in check.
The Base [Deterrence Sanctum] has come in the radar of our enemies and i have a feeling that next time the forces coming to attack will be more vicious and determined, that is why i request the Council and the Elders to Strengthen up the Base as well as the defences. I am well Aware our Engineers are fully capable of making our iron Fortess in something more stronger and firmer.
Grant our Brave warriors some Reward for the successful defense, Even though it doesn's sound much our warriors at sanctum would really love to drink some fine Rum at the bar to motivate themself.

A la espera de saber de ti.

Respectfully,

Ricardo Sanchez
Fleet Commander
Corsair Naval Fleet

Glory to Imperio

"Igitur qui desiderat pacem, praeparet bellum."

John'DTR'Grey · 07-24-2025, 10:13 AM,

Sender ID

Executor Francisco Javier de Creta

Location

Planet Crete, Gran Canaria island, the Trastámara villa.

Recipient

Commander Ricardo Sanchez

Grandiosos días, Ricardo.

I see, the battle was ferocious apparently but those who tried to invade our nation will always perish to the fearceful hammer of the mighty Corsair homeworld defense force. I am quite sure loses will be replenished soon, and the ones who died, died like heroes and their families are honoured. The families of those who died did receive a personal gift and their lives are now much better thanks to the funds for the glory their sacrifices bring to the Imperio.

The loss of Reincarnation outpost is not a shock, for the past months we did turn it into a husk removing all sensitive materials, data and leaving just plain alloys and some defenses so this perros from Nauru believe it still works fully, and they eaten it entirely. They declared war on a husk, wasted dozens of lives and millions in munitions and military hardware meanwhile everything was already saved, our hidden task force in the nebula sure did an excellent job.

I am sure they have a somewhat expansionist agenda, but that ends in the rock they live, our border patrols did received many reinforcements from that day, and we patrol actively from Gammu planet high orbit to Ciutadella outpost hunting down this perros and butchering them with ruthless violence, that is in the end what they deserve for threatening the peace forces of our glorious Imperio.

The santisima flota with Santiago at his command is already preparing some movements, they are gathering the fleet nearby Tripoli, so expect some noticias from them soon.

Gracias for your work comandante, never give up, the Imperio demands our lives!

Adios.

<Virtus unita fortior, Deterrence>
Francisco Javier de Creta

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