I concur that you should rewrite it. Use smaller paragraphs

Here is the first chapter (or rather, the prologue):

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Disclaimer: Yadadada, copyright isn’t mine etc

Child of the Hispania, by Sybot

Prologue: The Rite of Passage

Paulo Collazo sat abruptly upright. The radiation! He was dying! He needed to escape! His eyes stopped staring wildly and came to focus on his bed sheets. The dreams were happening again. It had been six years since his brother had gone for the Corsair Rite of Passage and never returned. It was now his turn.

The rumours he had heard about this were terrible. Some of his friends said there were demons in the clouds that you must fight, others told of how the radiation inside the cloud could kill you within a matter of hours. The Rite had always been an enigma to children. Once someone went through it at the age of eighteen they were sworn not to talk about it to anybody who had not already passed. The only thing the children knew for certain was that the man-to-be had to fly into the large Edge Nebula cloud that covered the 'north- eastern' part of Omicron Gamma. Everyone below age speculated on it. The fact that his brother had died to this mysterious ritual did nothing to alleviate Paulo's fears for this day.

Having got dressed in his normal clothes, a loose shirt and trousers to combat the warm Crete days, he climbed down the stairs to the kitchen for some breakfast. A welcome surprise greeted Paulo as he prepared for the usual, dull, Synth Paste rations. On the table was a dead animal that could be best described as a deer. Of course, it was shaded with a green tinge and had spiralling antlers as large as its head. One of the many natural wonders of Planet Gaia.

"A Grazella!" he said with a certain degree of surprise ", where did it come from?" This sort of food was unusual and, most people felt, did more good to your body than the grey sludge that passed as food most of the time. Not to say Paulo was badly fed. He was reasonably tall, well muscled and perhaps a bit thinner than someone of his age would be expected to be.

"Your father 'liberated' it during the raid on a Synth Foods convoy near the Hawaii last week," came his mother's reply a few moments later ", you're not to touch it though. It is for your celebration tonight". She just had to remind him. The Rite was the most pointless thing he could think of. It was useless. Rubbish. Wasteful. A quick shake of his head fixed most of the adolescent anger that was surging in his mind.

Then another voice appeared in the room. "Ah, Lizve," came the male voice, referring to Paulo's mother, "and Paulo too. Why are you not in your uniform?"

"Sorry sir," Paulo muttered to the short Aryan (there was a lot of speculation as to why his descendants were on the Hispania) man standing in the open doorway to the outside. It was Munio Villanueva, one of the Council of Elders and a close friend of Paulo’s mother. Paulo often wondered if they were too close, especially while his father was out on raids.

Pretending not to be annoyed by Paulo's insolent mutter the man continued, "the rite is dangerous, but recently the number of deaths during it has dropped enormously, so as long as you are observant and fast at the console then you should survive". Paulo didn't want to be lectured like this. He just wanted to get this over and done with so he can join the ranks of Corsair pilots and go off on raid and ambushes and all the other exciting things his father had told him about.

The man noticed Paulo's boredom and stopped for a moment. "Pay attention boy, your life could depend on it. Despite your familiarity with me, you shall refer to me as Elder Villanueva," he said sternly. "I will be adjudicating on your Rite later today. I know that Elders don’t usually do this, but I felt that, knowing your family and after what happened before, you deserved special attention.” Paulo didn't want special attention; he just wanted to get through the Rite alive. He fantasized fun ways to kill Villanueva as he trudged back up the stairs.

Fully dressed in uniform and ready, Paulo climbed out of the house and into the warm Crete sunshine. The sky was glowing a healthy green. It was a gentle stroll to the landing pad where he could see a ship waiting for him. It had a dull brown-grey hull with wings coming from the sides, top and bottom.

"Now Paulo," started Villanueva as Paulo approached the ship, "this is a Centurion. It is tougher and better equipped than the Legionnaire you have been flying. You will need the extra hull strength, believe me".

Paulo wasn't in a mood for joking around. "Yes Elder," he sighed.

"The task in the rite is simple. It does not involve shooting monsters or anything like that," Villanueva continued, smiling. He clearly did not notice Paulo's disinterest in his jokes. He went on, "you must fly towards the Graveyard of the Innocents, in the Edge Nebula cloud and collect an artifact." Graveyard of the Innocents. The name brought up ideas that were thrown around during training. Most youths agreed that the Graveyard was where the bodies of those who failed the rite were kept. It scared Paulo to think he may come across his brother's body, floating unprotected in the cloud. "The artifacts in the Graveyard are obviously different from the everyday ones we sell to the Colonies; we believe there is a hidden jumphole that they drift through from some unknown system".

"Of course, sir," Paulo sighed as he clambered into the cockpit. As he fired the engines, launching the Centurion from the pad, he could make out his mother and Elder Villanueva waving him goodbye. He waved back as a matter of courtesy.

When he passed through the docking ring, a robotic voice came on through his comm. System, "Corsairs green dash one, you are cleared for launch, good luck out there." Paulo ignored, it, the machine was programmed to repeat the same message to all who passed through the docking ring. Glancing back at the rapidly shrinking surface Paulo had a sudden thought. 'How did the Elders get Ageira to hand over a set of their precious docking rings'? The image of Elder Villanueva sitting in a room with a group of Libertarian businessmen was something to cheer him up.

The flight was fairly uneventful. He received a few hails from fellow Corsairs who wished him good luck when they realised what his task was. Nothing else happened until he entered the Edge Nebula cloud. He was relaxing inside the cockpit when suddenly there were asteroids everywhere and the computer was warning, in the same mundane voice as always, that the hull was taking radiation damage. This was to be expected, he had heard all about the nature of Edge Nebula clouds from his father. With the autopilot set to dodge stray boulders Paulo focused his attention on the shrinking number, on a waypoint icon, on his Heads-Up Display, on his cockpit window. When the number arrived at 2 kilometres he saw it. The Graveyard of the Innocents.

There were ships littered across the area. Legionnaires, Centurions and Titans, all wrecked. His brother was out there somewhere and Paulo did not dare to even attempt to search. He focused his mind on the task. Configuring the computer to scan for artifacts, he began randomly shooting asteroids in the hope of knocking something loose. This tedious business continued as he drifted through the Graveyard when suddenly the computer announced it had detected a gravitational anomaly.

He spun the Centurion around and locked onto the anomaly. It had to be the jumphole that was the source of the artifacts. Moving in closer to get better reading he noticed something strange. The jumphole was glowing and rotating as though ships were passing through, and yet he could not see any. He also detected strange readings, like ships but not. The computer also noticed them and labelled them white on the HUD- for neutral. Paulo did not share the same belief and quickly fired the reverse thrusters. Four sets of purplish rings had appeared between Paulo and the jumphole. In these rings the shape of ships became apparent. They were not human ships. They faced Paulo. They fired. "Shield failed," intoned the computer.

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Chapter 1 will done soon.

Looks great. Looking forward to the next chapter.

i dont think he will survive to next chapter

after all, there are nomads on his tail!!

Great story, looking forward to reading the rest.

However there is one thing that confuses me and one thing that seems to be a little bit wrong.

The first thing is the term "Aryan". Are you reffering to the Indo-Aryan people who currently live somewhere in Iran or are you thinking of the Nazi's version of a white, blonde and blue eyed man?

The second thing is the word "Libertarian". If you mean people from Liberty it should be changed into Libertonian, at least that's how I've seen it appear in the game. Otherwise Libertarian is an individual who follows the ideology of Libertarianism, which is a very Liberal ideology.

Yes, I was refering to the Nazi Aryan image, mainly since I have no idea about these Indo-Aryans. All in all, I don't think that bit came off as well as I'd of liked. The Libertarian/Libertonian error is probably due to spellchecker changing it when I first wrote it years ago, and when I picked it up again recently I didn't notice the mistake.

Anyway, Chapter 1 will be done by tomorrow.

Chapter 1, earlier than I expected to be finished. I'd also like to point out that this is not a 'Nomads return' fic. Most of the original FL characters will be limited to cameo appearances only.

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Disclaimer: I own Freelancer and all associated media, Mwhahaha! (not :p)

Child of the Hispania, by Sybot

Chapter One: Graveyard of the Innocent

The foolish human was just floating, bolts of energy flying from his primitive ship into the asteroids. The Nomad waited as the rest of its patrol came though the jumphole. Maybe the humans weren’t so primitive; the Nomad decided, as the ship had came over to investigate the jumphole. It approached closer and suddenly moved backwards rapidly. The human must have realised the danger he was in. It was time to finish this. The Nomad ordered its patrol to decloak and attack. The human was pathetically attempting to flee when the first volley hit, removing the protective energy shield his ship was relying on. The Nomad waited as its weapons recharged, savouring the kill it would get with the next volley.

Paulo slammed the afterburner on full and was forced back in his seat as the inertial compensator struggled to keep up with the acceleration. The rear viewscreen showed the alien squadron’s second volley of purple lasers passing through the space where he had just been moments before. The alien fighters broke formation to pursue. Paulo pressed the button to activate the shield batteries and breathed a sigh of relief as the shield came back up to full power. It didn’t last long. The aliens were right behind him, firing their guns. One scored a hit and drained half of Paulo’s shield almost instantaneously. He jinked hard and pulled up behind an asteroid to evade. Alien beams swept the space where he had disappeared before zeroing in on the asteroid.

“High temperature build-up detected,” intoned the computer.

“What the…” stuttered Paulo. The HUD showed the asteroid in front of him going from green to red to white. Paulo could see the alien organisms on its surface boiling away. He rapidly backed away, and just in time, as the asteroid exploded into a thousand fragments and the alien lasers flew through, passing just in front of him. It was obvious now that fighting defensively wouldn’t work, he had to go and attack the aliens. He spent the next few seconds trying to remember his tactics lessons back on Crete while the explosion, and hence his cover faded. Then he just gave up thinking and flew straight through the former asteroid. The aliens seemed to be caught off guard as they struggled to re-orientate and get a lock on Paulo’s Centurion. One of them was just sitting there, probably since it hadn’t noticed Paulo’s attack yet. Paulo locked onto it and then it sprang away suddenly.

Paulo pressed the trigger intensely as he tracked the fighter across the HUD. Several energy bolts hit it sending it spinning away. The computer finally chimed, indicating it had a missile lock. Paulo pressed the button on the back of the trigger, and a missile streaked towards the alien. It hadn’t noticed the missile, and was still recovering from the previous attack when it was hit. It exploded into a cloud of purple gas, sending shards of its hull into the asteroids.

“Yahoo!” Paulo yelled with glee at his first kill. His happiness was cut short when several lasers flew past his cockpit. He activated his afterburner and thrusted away, but this time the alien pilots were angry and flying to the full extent of their abilities. They kept pace with Paulo as they weaved between the asteroids and wrecks. A laser bolt clipped Paulo’s shield and flew into a gutted Titan, exploding it. Paulo lost control as he raised his hand to protect himself from the glare. The aliens capitalized and a flurry of laser flew into Paulo’s shield. It collapsed instantly.

“Crapcrapcrap,” shouted Paulo, veering to avoid an asteroid that had suddenly appeared in front of him and then reaching for the shield batteries. Just as he reached them, an explosion on the left side of the ship caused it to shake violently, forcing Paulo back into his seat. Alarms were going off, but he couldn’t hear them over the ringing in his ears. The damage readout showed disturbing images. The whole left wing of the Centurion had been blown off, and with it several guns. Paulo wondered why he wasn’t dead yet, and he saw the aliens breaking off. Maybe they thought he was dead in the explosion! He reached forward and grabbed the controls. Cutting the engines, he spun 180 degrees and went after the nearest alien.

The aliens must have noticed him, as they turned to face him head-on. There was no way he could survive a confrontation like that. He had only one choice. As they approached, he could make out their weapons charging up on the nose of the craft. He pressed the trigger and energy bolts and missiles went streaming towards the three aliens.

The Nomad growled as the missiles hit its wingparasite, destroying it. It was so frustrating to see good parasites killed by primitive fuelled projectiles. The Nomad’s ship shrugged off the few energy bolts that managed to hit it and opened fire with its main weapon. The streams of purple energy hit the human craft head on, and it exploded in a satisfying array of yellows and oranges, a result of the oxygen atmosphere inside. The Nomad got back into formation with the sole remaining member of its patrol, and together they went to the jumphole, furious that a pathetic human could of killed two of their brethren.


Paulo blinked. Was he dead? He blinked again. No, he wasn’t. He was in an escape pod, having ejected as soon as his volley was en route to the alien squadron. He remembered seeing one of the fighters explode, then a huge pressure as he was sealed off and launched out of the back of the Centurion. He had no idea how long he’d been unconscious, but it couldn’t have been that long or the radiation would have fried him. His controls were limited to a few manoeuvring thrusters and a small viewscreen showing the same old of the nebula. He rotated the pod and noticed a wrecked Legionnaire nearby. Carefully firing the thrusters he came within a few metres of the light fighter. All the while he was aware of his body slowly being ionised by the nebula.

Paulo got into the spacesuit provided with the pod, a flimsy covering that barely kept the vacuum out, let alone radiation. He then sealed himself in it and activated its oxygen tanks. Breaking the seal on the pod caused explosive decompression, and Paulo had to grab onto the control console to keep from being flung into space. After all the air had left, he clambered out of the hatch at the top of the pod, pushing with his feet, flung himself at the Legionnaire. Barely missing the rear hatch, Paulo instead grabbed one of the guns on the underside of the cockpit. He pulled himself up onto the wing and swung round to reach the rear hatch. It was already open, probably due to being out in the nebula for so long. Luckily there was an airlock or the air would have evacuated and it would have been less likely that Paulo could get home. He slammed the hatch behind him and activated the compression cycle of the airlock.

Inside the cockpit was only slightly different to the Legionnaire that Paulo had practised in. The air was stale and musty. Paulo went over to the pilot’s chair and spun it round. The sight he saw sent him stumbling backwards across the cockpit and slamming him into the wall. He had already been feeling nauseous due to the radiation, but this tipped him over the edge and he bent over in the corner, spewing out his stomach contents. He spent a few moments recovering, then boldly stood up and picked the mummified remains of the pilot, throwing them into the airlock, and opening the rear hatch. He tried to put the memory of what he had done to the back of his mind as he sat down in the pilot’s chair.

“Systems onli-li-li-line,” sputtered the computer while the control panel and HUD lit up. Paulo scratched his head as he tried to work out the outdated control arrangement that this ship had. When he brought his hands down, they were covered in his brown hairs.

“Damn, the radiation is getting to me,” he muttered to himself. Starting up the engines he realised the situation was worse. The cruise engines were completely offline, leaving only the primary engines. Paulo knew he’d be dead before he could reach Crete at that speed. On the upside (if there was one) the hold contained an artifact, and Paulo surmised that the pilot had succumbed to radiation before being able to get the artifact back to Crete to pass the Rite. He activated the NavMap and set a course for the nearest Corsair patrol path through the cloud. The autopilot activated and moved out towards the waypoint. Paulo managed to stay awake for a few hours before keeling over and slipping into the dark. His last thought was anger at those who had created the Rite.

Paulo drifted in darkness for an eternity. Suddenly there was movement. He could hear the distant sound of voices. He fell back into consciousness with a crash and a pounding headache. Next to him on the floor was a bottle of anti-radiation drugs. He tried to move towards it but found he couldn’t move his arms or legs. In the blurred distance he could make out a pilot’s chair different to the one in the Legionnaire.

“Yeah, I just found him floating in a trashcan of a ship,” came the voice loud and clear into Paulo’s head. Had he been rescued? The voice continued, “I’ve given him some anti-rads, so he’ll be awake soon”

“Help me,” Paulo tried to say, but it came out as a series of coughs.

“He’s awake,” the man (Paulo could tell as it became clearer) said. The pilot got up out of his chair and walked over to Paulo. However, it wasn’t the Corsair uniform he had hoped. It was a Bounty Hunter. “You’ll fetch a good price from one of the House Police, or maybe the Outcasts would like to ‘play’ with a Corsair, I hear they pay well too,” the Bounty Hunter chuckled with a sadistic grin. He lashed out with his foot and it once again went black for Paulo.

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So, how will he get out of this one? Tune in next time to find out!

Edited by - Sybot on 12/29/2005 4:50:22 PM

nice chapter ending! i cant wait for the next part

some people say that crime didn't exist before GTA

Great chapter. I can't wait for thenext one.

Ack! Bounty Hunters! Welp, now you've got me interested

Chapter 2. This and Chapter 3 were originally together, but it turned out far too large, so I’ve split it into two parts.

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Disclaimer: Freelancer is the property of people who aren’t me, unfortunately.

Child of the Hispania, by Sybot

Chapter Two: Freeport 9 Besieged, Part One: The Ultimatum

Drifting in and out of consciousness and in and out of dreams, Paulo imagined he was safe at home, tucked up in bed and that the past day had just been a nightmare. Suddenly the sun dimmed and the room went into murky darkness. Paulo blinked and looked around. He realised he was awake again, in the metal cell that the Bounty Hunters had thrown him in. It was almost pitch black, the only light coming from the gently glowing electrified bars on the cell door. He didn’t know where he was he was, but he could guess he was on either Freeport 9 or Freeport 5, since they were the only places Bounty Hunters could land within light years of Omicron Gamma. However, if he‘d been unconscious longer than he thought, he could be many systems away from Corsair space now. Either way, the chance of rescue was minimal. Suddenly the lights came on.

“Get up, Corsair scum,” growled a male voice with a harsh Libertonian accent. Paulo looked over at the bars again. The Bounty Hunter who captured him was now standing there, wearing the same evil grin as before. When Paulo made no attempt to move, the Bounty Hunter continued, “I said, GET UP!”

“YAAAAAAH!” Paulo screamed louder than he had ever done before as waves of electricity flowed through his body. Every moment was pure agony and it seemed to go on forever. Eventually, the pain subsided and Paulo managed to drag himself up the wall and onto his feet.

“That’s better,” said the Bounty Hunter, clearly enjoying it, “whenever you disobey me, you get a jolt. Understand?” Paulo nodded. “Good, now what is your name?”

“First, what is yours?” Paulo managed to say through gritted teeth, knowing what was coming. He collapsed as once again electricity crackled across his skin.

“You can call me The Boss, and I will call you Dumbass, since you were stupid enough to try to resist,” replied The Boss after releasing the trigger on a control in his right hand.

“My name is…” Paulo started to growl in reply, but he was cut off by another jolt of electricity.

“Your name is Dumbass! Remember that!” The Boss shouted angrily. However, he couldn’t keep a straight face and quickly started laughing at his own wit. “I’ll be back to talk to you some more later, Dumbass,” he said between laughs. The Boss put the control down on a table out of reach of the cell and left, turning off the lights behind him. Paulo sat on the bench at the back of the cell and struggled to not begin weeping at the hopelessness of the situation. When he brought his hands up to wipe his face, he realised he was being bound by stun cuffs, illegal in the Houses but widely used for imprisonment and torture across the Border Worlds. They caused enormous pain that felt like an electric shock, but unlike a shock they could not be fatal.

“I need to stop and think,” Paulo muttered to himself, while trying to remember the lessons he had on what to do if captured. The only thing he could remember was the first rule: Death before Betrayal. In other words, kill yourself before you reveal any sensitive information to an interrogator. At that point he did break down and start crying, knowing there was no way survive this.

After a while, the tears reduced to sniffles, and a voice entered the cell. “Hey, Corsair, if you’ve finished, maybe we can talk”

“Who is that?” Paulo sniffed.

“Menito Tieren, Outcast pilot,” came the reply.

“An Outcast!” Paulo exclaimed, suddenly filled with rage at the mention of the rival Hispanic faction.

“Hey, calm down,” said Menito in a calm voice, “I’ve given up following the rivalries I’ve had with all the prisoners that have been through this station”

“What station are we on?” asked Paulo, calming down slightly, but remaining cautious.

“Freeport 9, but hey, that’s just one jump from systems under both our groups control, so its okay, right,” said Menito, oddly cheerfully.

“I guess so…” started Paulo.

“Wrong!” announced Menito, his voice suddenly got a lot darker, “they’ll have you processed and shipped off to somewhere safer, for them, before your comrades even know you’re here”

“How comes you’re still here then?” Paulo asked, trying to avoid getting angry with the man.

“They want to test the effectiveness of Cardamine withdrawal. They keep me off for longer each time before giving me just enough to let me recover, until I’m dead,” the Outcast answered, “Cardamine’s expensive in most places, but hey, out here its relatively cheap, so this is where they keep me.” Paulo noticed that Menito’s voice did sound a bit rough, and he probably looked worse. A coughing for a bit, the Outcast continued, “What’s your name, Corsair?”

“Paulo Collazo, I was doing the Corsair Rite of Passage when the Bounty Hunters got me,” the young Corsair summarized. He felt worry building up as he realized that he parents and everybody else probably thought he was dead. He said as much to Menito, who took the time to comfort him. They talked for the next few hours, sharing the common hatred of the Bounty Hunters and their shared ancestry.

Paulo had finally managed to get some sleep when the lights in the cell suddenly burst on, shattering his dreams. The Boss entered, looking slightly nervous. He picked up the control for the stun cuffs and pointed them at Paulo. “You’re coming with me!” The Boss shouted. The bars of the cell door dimmed and there was a click as it unlocked.

“Yes, Boss,” replied Paulo. The Boss seemed to be distracted by something else, as he didn’t notice the heavy sarcasm Paulo used.

“Come on, Dumbass,” ordered The Boss, pulling Paulo out of his cell and into a gloomy metal corridor. Looking over his shoulder Paulo finally caught a glimpse of Menito. The Outcast looked like hell. His hair was thin and straggly, his skin peeling and his complexion almost white. Paulo actually felt sorry for him, crossing the boundaries of their faction rivalry.

“What’s the rush Boss?” Paulo asked while they continued down the prison corridor, each wall lined with cells filled with allsorts, from petty criminals in little more than rags, to Outcasts and Corsairs, who managed to remain dignified despite their living conditions.

“None of your concern, that’s what!” The Boss punctuated his point with a short jolt from the stun cuffs. He must have been in a hurry though, as he quickly pulled Paulo back onto his feet. They reached the end of the corridor and entered a bustling boulevard filled with all walks of life including Zoners, Bounty Hunters, and representatives of the various House Corporations. It was obvious now that Menito was right and he was on a Freeport. They approached a blonde female Bounty Hunter, already holding two stun cuff controls, with two cuffed Corsairs that Paulo didn’t recognise sat behind her.

“Ohhh, a handsome one, you do spoil me!” she declared when The Boss handed her Paulo’s cuff control, “now I have enough to fill my hold, why are we doing this?”

“Corsair numbers in the system have doubled in the past few hours,” growled The Boss. All three Corsairs perked up at this information, and The Boss, “we think they are planning a prisoner breakout, so we’re pre-empting them”

“Fine, fine, I’ll just be glad to be out of the system when it all hits the fan,” replied the female Bounty Hunter.

“Good luck out there, Jan,” said The Boss, resting his hands on the woman’s shoulders. He then made one last glare Paulo. “See you later, Dumbass” The Boss walked away.

“Alrighty then,” chirped Jan, “I have a few rules; no talking amongst yourselves, speak only when spoken to, and always walk in front of me. I’ve wired the controls together, so that if any of you break a rule, all of you will be punished. Understand?” They nodded. “Good. Lets go!” They started out towards the hangers when suddenly a shudder ran through the station. Alarms started blaring and the emergency lights came on, shading most of the boulevard red. “What the hell was that!” exclaimed Jan, echoing the sentiments of most passers-by. Paulo knew what it was. The Corsair breakout that The Boss had talked about was underway!

“Go!” he yelled, spinning round and smashing into Jan, sending her sprawling across the floor and the joint control flying across the thoroughfare. The other Corsairs leapt into the crowd.

“Not so fast!” yelled Jan, pulling another control from a pocket. Paulo screamed as the pain from the cuffs flowed through him, causing him to double up on the floor. Through the blur of agony he could hear his fellow escapees suffering the same fate. Just when it seemed he couldn’t take anymore, it stopped abruptly. Paulo could make out a deep booming voice resonating through the entire station.

“…of Freeport Nine, this is Elder Maden of the Corsairs. The Council of Elders has decided that we can no longer tolerate a presence harbouring Bounty Hunters and Outcast so close to our homeworld. As off this day Freeport Nine is under our control. All Zoners, Freelancers, and members of any other faction neutral to us are free to go within the next twelve hours. Anyone left on the station after that will be treated as a hostile combatant. Any Bounty Hunter or other enemy ship attempting to leave the station will be destroyed. I repeat, to the inhabitants of Freeport Nine, this is Elder…”

A stunned silence filled the large corridor. Suddenly somebody shouted, “they’re right outside the windows!” Chaos suddenly descended in a wave as people started screaming and running to collect their belongings or simply to get to their ships in time. In the crush, Paulo lost sight of the other two Corsairs. He managed to get up and squeeze his way to a window, where he could see at least twenty Titans, even more Centurions and Legionnaires, and a few ships he didn’t recognise. And this was just one side of the station.

When he turned to run Jan was standing there, a scene of calm in the confusion. In one hand she had the control, in the other an old-fashioned projectile pistol. “Can’t have you escaping now, can we?” she said with a smile. Paulo was frozen with fear. It was the first time he’d stared down the barrel of a gun. “It’s a pity I have to kill you, I really do think you’re more handsome than those other two,” Jan said in a sad tone, before pulling down the safety and pointing the barrel at Paulo’s head.

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The third cliffhanger in as many chapters! Paulo must be getting tired of this by now. The second part of Freeport Nine Besieged is currently being worked on, expect it soon!

damn this is good stuff! i cant wait for the next part

Arghh. If I’d known how long this whole Freeport 9 arc would end up I would have planned it out better. Anyway, it isn’t over yet. More length issues means that this is part 2 of 3 of Freeport 9 Besieged.

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Disclaimer: I own all media associated with Freelancer (that I have written).

Child of the Hispania, by Sybot

Chapter Three: Freeport 9 Besieged, Part Two: Breakout

Paulo was staring Death in the face, looking down the barrel of the pistol as Jan raised it towards his face. He gulped his last breath and shut his eyes, waiting for the end.

BOOM.

The sound of the gun reverberated around the large corridor, causing some of the panicking inhabitants of Freeport 9 to pause and watch. Paulo opened his eyes to see if he was dead yet. Cleary he wasn’t. Jan was on the floor, rolling with someone else. The gun lay smoking on the floor next to them. Paulo looked over his shoulder and saw a bullet hole just next to his head on the wall behind him. He felt light-headed, and then he fainted.

BOOM.

The sound of the gun reverberated around the large corridor. Paulo regained consciousness with a start, and looked around. The crowd of people, or at least those not rushing to their ships, were standing in a circle around two people. A man was standing in the centre, holding the smoking gun and pointing it at the ground. Paulo didn’t want to look down, but he did anyway. Jan was on the floor, a bleeding hole obvious in her Bounty Hunter uniform right where her heart would be. Paulo feel back down and hit his head on the metal floor, knocking himself out.

BOOM

The sound of the gun…no, it was just his head pounding from the impact. Paulo winced at the pain as he regained consciousness. A familiar face was standing over Paulo, one that made feel very relieved. It was one of the Corsairs Jan had been holding, and now Paulo recognised him as the man that had tussled with and shot her. He extended a hand.

“Th-thank you,” Paulo stuttered, taking his hand.

“No, problem, anything for a fellow child of the Hispania,” replied the Corsair in an even heavier Hispanic accent than Paulo’s. He pulled and lifted Paulo to his feet. By now most of the crowd had run off. In the panic following Elder Maden’s ultimatum, a single killing easily went unnoticed.

“Who are you then?” Paulo got straight to the point.

“Mendez, I’ve been living on Leon for years now and no-one ever calls me by anything else. The Bounty Hunters picked me up after I was disabled by a mine near the Omega-11 jumphole,” Paulo’s rescuer replied. At the same time he was fiddling with the joint control that controlled their stun cuffs. “What about you?”

“Paulo Collazo,” Paulo answered, “I was doing the Rite of Passage when I was attacked and forced to eject. I managed to take one of the damaged ships from the Graveyard but passed out due to radiation. Next thing I know, I’m in the clutches of a Bounty Hunter” Paulo found that all hard to say. He just knew he must have failed by being captured.

Mendez’ only reply was, “did you get an Artifact?”

“Yes, there was one on the Legionnaire I took”

“Then you passed, welcome to the ranks of the Corsairs.” He patted Paulo on the shoulder. Suddenly there was a beep and the gentle buzzing the cuffs had been making since Paulo had first seen them stopped. “Yes!” exclaimed Mendez, pulling a small chip out of the control. He pushed a button on the control and the cuffs made a clunking noise, then fell off. Mendez’ cuffs clattered onto the floor next to Paulo’s.

“About damn time,” muttered Paulo, kicking them to one side.

“Now, to rescue the others,” Mendez said, pushing through the crowds back towards the brig Paulo had been in before. Mendez moved quickly and with a purpose, leaving Paulo to lag behind, trying to squeeze between the Zoners and others clogging the boulevard. Eventually he caught up. Just inside the main door of the brig Mendez was cautiously looking down the cell corridor where Paulo had been kept, gun in hand. He motioned to Paulo to stand on the other side of the entrance. Paulo risked a glimpse and what he saw angered him greatly.

“Fifteen Corsairs sitting in cells, fifteen Corsairs in cells!” The Boss was swaggering down the corridor, a bottle in one hand and a blaster pistol in another. Since he was singing so badly to the tune of ‘99 bottles of beer’, Paulo could guess he was drunk. The Boss stopped and wobbled a bit in front of a cell. “You shoot one down!” He poured laser fire into the cell. “Until he…err…turns brown! Fourteen Corsairs sitting in cells!” He fired a few more bolts for good measure, and started moving towards the next cell.

“Hey, why are you only killing the Corsairs?” came the recognizable voice of Menito from one of the cells.

“You’ll find out shoon enough,” grinned The Boss with that sadistic grin. He turned back to the Corsair’s cell “You shoot one down!” He raised the gun.

The rage that had been building in Paulo since he was first captured by The Boss finally released. “No!” he yelled as loud as he could. Slipping past Mendez’ fingers, he sprinted down the corridor even as The Boss turned and gave a startled yelp. With his reflexes dulled by alcohol, The Boss was sent sprawling by the young Corsair’s charge. Paulo leapt on him and started pummelling the Bounty Hunter’s face, his vision clouded with red fury.

“Hey, easy!” exclaimed Menito, “only he knows where the locks for these cells are!”

“Not that you’ll be getting out, Outcast,” growled Mendez. Ignoring Paulo’s beating of The Boss, he raised the pistol and fired once at each cell holding a Corsair. The locks all broke off, and the cell doors swung open. Corsairs came out and looked around. All of them grinned when they saw Paulo on The Boss.

“Good job kid!” one of them shouted. This snapped Paulo out of his rage. He looked down at his hands. His knuckles were red and raw, and covered in blood. He gulped down the nausea he was feeling and put his hands down to look at The Boss. His face was almost unrecognisable, his glazed eyes fixed in an eternal gaze of fear. He sat in shock for a few minutes, just staring at and contemplating what he had done.

“…set up covering the entrance and shoot anybody who isn’t a Corsair,” Mendez was giving instructions to the Corsairs he’d freed. Paulo stood up and calmly walked down the corridor to the end of the corridor, where he collapsed underneath the window thanks to the exhaustion from his fight

The other Corsairs had taken some boxes and blocked off the corridor. They were armed with three blaster pistols between them and one pulse rifle. Paulo knew what one of them could do. It fired a burst of kinetic energy that would on lower settings knock you down, but on the highest settings could pulverise your internal organs.

“Take shifts guarding, we have twelve hours to burn until backup gets here,” said Mendez as he walked down towards where Paulo was slumped, “don’t worry about it Paulo, he was only a Bounty Hunter”

“I guess you’re right,” muttered Paulo in response.

“Anyway, the others are glad you took him out, so I’m letting you off taking a shift on guard.” Paulo smiled thankfully at Mendez. He was too exhausted to sit around watching the door for hours. “I suggest you get some sleep, since we’ll be taking on the rest of the station when the others board”

“Did you know about this attack?” Paulo asked suddenly.

“No, but I have been plotting some escape plans, and this seemed like the perfect time to do it.”

“Okay”

“No problem” Mendez patted Paulo on the shoulder and went back up to the barricade. Paulo felt himself drifting away into sleep. Before him went under, he looked out of the window and watched as a steady line of ships fled from Freeport 9. One Falcon was stopped by the blockade. It tired to flee but was hit by multiple missiles and turned into a billowing orange explosion. Meanwhile more Corsair ships were arriving. When the attack begun it would certainly be a show worth watching. With that his lights went out, and he had his first proper sleep in a long time.

----------------

Freeport 9 Besieged: Part Three: The Battle of Freeport 9

Is up next. Expect explosions, shooting and lots of other fun stuff. See you then!

this is nice man, lotsa action, good dialouge and a intriging plot!

keep it up...

007

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"When life gives you lemeons, find someone with some vodka and have a party!"