The Road to Rheinland

A small glass bottle shattered on the cold hard floor as Sam’s grip loosened, a loud gasp escaping his mouth. I spun around instinctively, and
saw bright purple flashes by the window where he stood. As I slowly made my way to the window, bluish and bright pink colors started rolling about, faster than a normal anomaly formation. As the bright sliding colors faded, these squid-like things just appeared out of nowhere. The gases faded and the silence of amazement was broken by a loud, air-piercing sound that most of us on Freeport 7 were familiar with; the alarm. I, like many other regulars, recognized the siren, as the occasional Outcast would come attacking the station. Its sharp noise irritated everyone’s ears, piercing the air like a Skyblast shot. Normally Freeport 7’s superb defenses would keep them at bay, along with the excellent Cryer and Samura patrols. But this time was different. The purple things outside glowed with a radiant magenta, and then burst open, and four sparkling objects flew out of them, and headed straight for the station. We realized the sudden danger and started running to the lifeboat. I knew a shortcut to the loading bay where the lifeboat’s entrance was and quickly detoured from the flowing mass of frightened people. I came to the equipment room, and dashed across to a small hatch near a severely damaged Civilian Elite Fighter. I opened the small door in the floor, and slid down, gripping the metal sides of the ladder. I landed softly, bending my legs to break the fall. Ignoring the pungent smell of gases, I crawled through a small, old pipeline as quickly as I could. Suddenly I heard a loud, deep explosion, which sent a shockwave through the station. I tumbled across a bit, and quickened my pace. I reached the next opening, and rolled out, landing on the loading bay’s floor. I wasn’t concentrating and landed on my wrist, twisting it a bit, crunching the carpals. I let out a short scream, and looked to inspect the damage. My right wrist was dark purple, and hurt tremendously. The fingers and palm were bent back as far as possible, touching the side of my forearm. I moved my hand a bit, and to my relief I still had control over it. I was wondering how severe this damage was, if I’d be able to pilot my ship again. Hearing shouts from far away, my mind swung back into reality.
Another rumbling hit the station, and a large pipe broke, sending three blazing panels fell apart, setting fire to one corner of the room. The heat was unbearable; I was in a battleship core. I ran to the lifeboat’s entrance as others started pouring into the large bay, stumbling over to me. People were screaming, men and women. They were running in such panic that they started tripping over each other, creating domino effects, stampeding through the room, making me feel lucky I was here first. I jumped inside, and three more people fell onto me. I saw another man roll in and hit the dispatch button. We tried to get sorted out, and get clear of each other when I realized the doors weren’t closing. I stared into the bay and witnessed a massive explosion, feeling the heat flow into the enclosed space. I looked down and found what was blocking the doors; a small alien artifact. I pried it out of the gap, and the lifeboat doors started to close. Another man jumped in, trying to get into the vessel but the doors closed on his arm with tremendous force, cutting it from the rest of his body. The arm fell onto the floor, bleeding profusely, leaking out a terrible stench of bodily fluids. A loud, short burst of air from the pumps sent the lifeboat spinning out, as we watched the exploding station fall apart.
Another massive explosion erupted in a biodome, sending trees and plants blazing through the air. As they hit the outer shell, glass shattered, letting the vacuum of space suck out the flaming remains. A depot to the right of it exploded, humungous shards of metal flying out, followed by the collapsing central station. Another depot tank detonated, the heat wave so strong that it set our ship spinning. The bright light was too strong for my eyes, so I shielded them with my arms. The light faded, and I lowered my arms, only to be rewarded by the eruption of main base, ending it all. Panels fell inwards, girders twisted by the intense heat, docking bays collapsed and tanks blew up. Soon nothing was left but pieces of rubble. Half a biodome flew past us, burning the remains of what was once a field of wheat.

One of the men who landed on me grabbed the artifact I had been holding subconsciously. I didn’t take much notice, as I was mesmerized by the destruction of my home. Freeport 7 had been kind to me, always a place to go no matter what happened around me. It was going to go soon anyway, with the Liberty Navy taking control of things. It was a Zoner base, but as pirate attacks increased, Cryer Pharmaceuticals and Samura Industries had the Navy clean out the Zoners and take ownership of Freeport 7. I wasn’t on the Navy’s good side, and they would shoot me the moment I left the station in my Border Worlds Sabre. They hadn’t fully taken over Freeport 7 yet, so the Zoners’ Peace Law still took place, protecting me from any Liberty agents onboard. I stared at the floating debris, wondering who would destroy it. Rogues? No, they wouldn’t come this far out. They were looking at expanding into Bretonia anyway. Lane Hackers? No, they’re the same as the Liberty Rogues. That left one Liberty Criminal group; Outcasts. It made sense;
Outcasts lived this far out. They hated Libertonians, but there’s no benefit for them by wiping out Freeport 7. They could always easily take them out. Anyway, it didn’t seem like any Outcasts were around. Those purple things, they looked like ships. Some alien thing. They did it, surely, but who made them? They don’t look like House work. What is even stranger is how the Defense Grid didn’t detect whatever destroyed the base. Once a hostile ship enters the perimeter, it would get blasted by the turrets before even entering range. And even if it got close enough to shoot, flak cannons would disintegrate the ships. Not even the Rheinland Military could get its way through Freeport 7’s defenses. I gave up after a while and looked around me. Next to me Sam was lying down, moaning softly. Sam. Dear Sam Lonnigan. Always conning people with his fake ID Cards and convincing persuasions. He had been hit in the forehead by some debris and was injured pretty badly. On his other side was a man who I’d seen talking to Lonnigan a few times recently. He was staring at Lonnigan, with a hint of sadness in his face. I assumed he was another one of Sam’s victims. I turned to my right and saw the man who grabbed the strange artifact from my hand. He was rolling it around in his hands, muttering to himself. I looked behind me and saw the three other survivors. One was grabbing a railing, staring outside the window into the vast deep space. The man next to him, who I recognized as a Corsair, was unconscious, lying down with a hand on his chest. The last was huddled over, cradling his legs with his arms and resting his chin on his knees. The man was muttering to himself, rocking sideways in severe shock. I lowered my gaze and returned my head to my own chest, and wondered what would happen next.
“This is Liberty Navy patrol epsilon five dash one, to unidentified lifeboat,” a crackling voice said through the small communications system onboard. “what is your status?” A short burst of static sounded, signaling the end of communication. “Unidentified lifeboat, this is Naval patrol epsilon five dash one, do you copy?” the man repeated, a little louder and clearer. The Corsair had regained consciousness a little earlier, and slowly crawled to the computer. “This is Liberty Navy patrol epsi...”
“We heard you the first time. We’re okay. But.. Freeport 7 isn’t. It’s gone..” The Corsair said into the mouthpiece. He looked down again, depressed as most of us were.
“What do you mean, gone?”
“Destroyed. Don’t know what.. It just.. just... happened so quickly and its all gone now...”
“What the... Are you sure?”
“Of course I am. Scan the escape ship’s registration. We’re the survivors. Just get your lazy asses down here and rescue us before we suffocate.”
“Copy that. Hold on, I’m calling for a transport to pick you up.”
Four weeks later we caught sight of Manhattan in our armored transport. Finally we landed at the primary launch pad, and were glad to grab a breath of fresh air. I walked out and quickly made my way past the police. They were going around asking questions, and paramedics were carrying out Lonnigan’s unconscious body. The doctors onboard the transport couldn’t do much to help Sam, so he’d been without medical attention for a long time. I found a path to the lower street bar, where I tried to find my old friend Paul Steed. He usually hung around the darker undercity bars and joints, but occasionally he’d rise to the Manhattan Bar to find deals with Ageira agents. I walked deep into the city, and found a bar that I recognized as one of Paul’s spots. As I walked in I smelled the strong pungent fumes of cardamine, and quickly tried to find Paul.
“Yo, Jace!” I heard a voice and spun around, reaching for my Daumann Devastator, whipping it out in a quick motion, finger on the trigger, ready to fire. My grip relaxed as I realized who it was. “Paul you sly son of a *****! If you had a bit more fierceness in that voice you wouldn’t have a head” I said, slightly annoyed at his ignorance. Paul, with his many connections, took the easy road on life. He had little credits; he often said he doesn’t need them. He did supply the Junkers with lots of money, doing deals with fallen House Corps. Often he would get an Ageira or DSE agent drunk with strong Liberty ale and have them sign a contract. The contract would say that the agent had agreed to supplying Paul with several large shipments of scrap metal, and that if the metal wasn’t acquired in a time period of a few weeks, the agent would have to surrender all forms of value and give it to the Junkers. Either way, Junkers on Rochester were always very pleased with Paul. With that, he had many contacts and sources, always having friends around, so he never had to watch his own back. Hell, if I had pulled my trigger, someone would have killed me already.

“So, what’s up old friend? What are you doing down here in Liberty?” Paul started, pouring some ale from the pitcher he was holding. I asked him, “Heard about Freeport 7?” “Yeah, lots of people say its The Order making those attacks. No idea why though. Personally I think it was a good idea, keeping Liberty from taking over Sirius.”
“Funny you should say that. I was on that station when it blew.” “Shut the hell up man, you’re always pulling my leg with stuff like that. ‘I found hundreds of Artifacts!’ you said, ‘I found the Hispania!’ and so on. That cardamine must be showing its toll on you. Now come on, drink up.”
“Dude, I’m serious. Why else would I come all the way down here?
Anyway, don’t listen to the media and all, The Order wasn’t involved.” “Whoa... How the hell did you survive? Tell me what it was like, you know, the station blowing up around you and all. How did you guys escape?”
“Shut up and listen! These things, never seen them before, they did it! Purple things, shaking and rolling. It was scary, man. They just... appeared. Out of nowhere. That’s how they got past the defenses. They never entered the perimeter. Or they did, somehow. I don’t know, you have to be there to understand.”
“What are you talking about? Are you saying these ships were invisible or something?”
“Yeah, that’s about it. Remember Lonnigan, the guy who rips off people? I told you about him some time ago. Anyway, he spotted them first. I want to ask him but he’s stuck in Medical. Doubt they’ll release him any time soon, he was smashed up pretty bad.”
“I don’t know if I should believe you, Jace. You sound pretty freaked about the whole thing.” We continued discussing it when we finally came upon the decision that either it was no one’s work, or The Order has managed to make some kind of strange new technology. After a while Paul said I’d better get to Rochester before Police notice I’m a Corsair. He offered me a ride in his cargo bay as he delivered half a ton of scrap metal to Rochester. I agreed, and went to meet some friends and get some cash. I stumbled a bit as my foot hit a large cable lying on the floor. It was bright day, three days since I landed, and I was making my way to Primary Landing Pad where Paul moved his CSV to. Like most veteran Junkers, he had souped up his CSV up a bit, expanding his cargo hold and installing a different power generator to operate his Barrager Mark III guns. Along with that he pumped in some extra juice into his engines, allowing for a quick cruise speed to get out of sight when needed. As I made my way through some boron stacks getting ready for loading, I noticed something happening nearby. There were two people talking behind a Starflier, very discreetly. As I stared a bit longer, I recognized Lonnigan and the man he was ripping off. As I changed course and walked over to them, wanting to find out what Sam had seen out there, two other men were approaching. They shouted at them, and one of them shot a dart at Sam. My eyes widened, and I pulled out my two Devastators with both hands as I ran up to them. The other man, who now looked like a Liberty Official, swung out a stun baton and shocked that other guy in the chest, pretty hard. I ran silently up behind the man with the dart gun, pointing my guns at the back of his head. “Stop right there!” I said, hoping I sounded braver than I was. Normally I could take these two guys anytime, but it had me thinking these two were LSF, and I wasn’t going to start killing Liberty Men in the middle of Manhattan. The other man spun around and saw me, then threw his baton at me. I quickly ducked out of its way, but the man I was threatening took that chance and pushed me to the ground with his foot. It hurt my shin a bit, but I was still alive. He swung around and drew out a small blaster. I quickly recognized it as an Ageira V20, a strong and banned weapon. I had no time to wonder why they weren’t carrying standard issue Liberty Stun Pistols. I kicked upwards, hoping to hit the man anywhere, and my toes found the soft spot. His gun went off as he fell to the ground, gripping his groin in pain. I lifted my left forearm and took a steady aim, then pulled the trigger sending a blazing red bolt of energy flying towards the other officer. It hit him right in the chest, and sent him toppling over. I looked back down at my feet as the other person grabbed my leg, in a weak attempt to harm me. I crouched down and hit him over the head with the back of my gun, examined him, then stood up. Holstering my two guns, Paul came over after hearing the laser shots, his rifle drawn. I told him briefly what happened. I looked at Sam and realized he was pretty hurt, so I moved him over to a darker corner and sent an anonymous message to the Medical Center to pick him up. I looked at the others. Paul decided we should move the officers, in case someone came and inspected them. Agreeing, we decided to take them to space to dispose of them. Turning my head to the last guy, we concluded to leave him there.
I climbed into a small cargo pod, and lay down. I had only around ten minutes of air, so Paul wasted no time getting to Rochester. His spiced up cruise engines made the cargo bay shake a bit, but I held okay. The air was stale and I started getting cramps. It was no joy ride, but there was no other way to get through Liberty Patrols. Finally, after what seemed like hours, I heard three latches click. As the bolt slid out of place I came face to face with Paul, grinning slyly. I sat up as he moved away, and got out, looking around. Apparently he still had his own ship bay, with just a passage to the main corridors. I rubbed some circulation back into my body and followed him into the bar. Along the way Paul spoke. “Hey, what are you planning on doing anyway? You can’t stay in Liberty obviously; the Police will find you sooner or later.” “Well I’ve a good mind to go back to Crete, take some time off there.” I replied, thinking about this important matter, throwing different possibilities through my head. “I could, however, travel to Bretonia instead, and head to Omega 5. Cadiz is there. Yeah, I think I’ll do that. It’s an easy enough travel from there to any other Corsair base.”
“Hmm,” Paul muttered as he thought about something.
“Well, I know this guy who could help you out. Come on.” A dense, heavy beat lingered in the air as the loudspeakers, mounted on each corner of the room, sent out pulses of music. Paul led me to another Corsair sitting at the end table, drinking a Sidewinder Fang. Paul whispered in my ear, “That’s Commander Ignacio Benitez, highly renowned pilot who does a lot of exploring for the Corsairs. He says he ended up here flying through an uncharted jump hole, which won’t be aligned for another fourteen years. He’s spending the next few days here.” We approached him slowly, walking on the cold steel floor. We were standing at his table, looking down at him. He took another sip out of his cup and put it back down again, letting out a loud and unpleasant belch. I cleared my throat a little loudly, to alert him of our presence. “Who the hell are you?” Benitez said, lifting his head slowly to get a good look. “Didn’t I tell that stupid bartender not to let people get near me?”

“Commander,” Paul said firmly with tight lips. “This man is a fellow Corsair, who was on Freeport 7 when it was destroyed. He’s thinking about...”
“You were on Freeport 7?” He interrupted, speaking with a deeper voice.
“Y-yes,” I stuttered, startled by his sudden voice change. All I got from him was another short grunt. Paul broke the silence, “Jace here needs some help. He’ll need a ride to Cadiz. You know you can’t stay here long. You’re running out of credits, old man.” Another grunt, this time an ignorant one.
“Yeah, well I’ll be leaving tomorrow then if you’re gonna force me out of this dump.” The only Junker base I’ll be stopping at will be Yanagi for a refuel. You guys don’t even have decent Fenders, in fact all your drinks suck ****.” Benitez said, followed by a short murmur from Paul.
“Meet me in fourteen hours’ time, docking bay two, lot six.” I felt foolish accepting a ride from some strange Corsair like this, but little did I know, he was to become one of the universe’s best pilots and a loyal friend. I trudged off with Paul to find some vacancies for the night.
The next morning I inserted the small keycard I had obtained from Paul into the small slot. The door in front of me slid open with a small burst of air, and I walked through, observing the large docking bay. A robot to my right spoke. “Welcome to Rochester Docking Bay Two. Is there anything I may help you with?”
“No thanks.” I said, and walked off in search of lot six. There were probably ten lots on the bottom floor, and on the eaves around the center there were maybe six more. The bay was quite busy this morning. I watched a Junker Combat Service Vehicle enter through the large airlock, and maneuver its way down to a lot pad. Five more CSVs sat on pads around the place, and I spotted quite a number of Bloodhounds. As I made my way down another short flight of stairs I spotted a Rheinland Valkyrie, then figured it must be a Freelancer. To my right three men and two robots were working hard at restoring a Pirate Freighter’s left fin. The original had been removed and set aside, and a new one was being lowered into place by one of the several cranes that dotted the bay. The group was talking loudly, arguing at each other, and it appeared to me that they were in a rush. I walked past lot two, then lot four, and I halted at number six. Before me was a large Centurion. I could easily tell it was heavily modified, by the fact it had several more gun mounts on the wings, and the upper fin was gone. It was replaced by two, smaller fins, a few meters apart, each with a turret on top, and a thruster mounted on the outer edges. The lower fin was replaced by a large hull. It was large enough it could have added probably space for another 60 cargo pods. He didn’t think Benitez looked like much of a trader, so he went for the guess that it held maybe extra power, and engine, or something.
“Glad you arrived,” A voice said, and my gaze went down and locked on Benitez. I was a bit startled, simply answered, “Really?” The man’s expression changed to one of slight confusion.
“Oh yes, I’m overflowing with joy” he said, a bit too sarcastically. I sighed, and walked over to him.
“Any idea how to fix this thing?” He said, nodding towards a smoking gun mount. The mount was at eye level, and I looked straight into it. I first waved some of the smoke out with my hand, and then I put down my small bag, and grasped both handles of the mount with my bare hands. I pulled them out, pushed the left one up, and the right one down, to release the catches. I set aside the plate, eyes locked on the inside. It was a typical Corsair class nine mount. I studied it and found the problem; a loose hammer clip. The hammer was used for connecting the turning rods and the power slots for simultaneous movement. A loose one like this would cause the gun to turn fast, but lose connection with the power. The intense heat caused by the wrong circuitry let out some smoke, but there was no flame. We replaced the hammer, and it worked fine after that. I climbed into the second seat that he had fitted into the enlarged cockpit. He told me that often the seat would be used by his gunman. He could set any number of his guns for him to control, and for his gunman to use. He preferred to think of his ship as a ‘light gunboat’, due to his double-man system, and his massive number of guns. He gave me control of the two fin-mounted turrets, and two other wing guns. He took the remaining mounts; four wingtip guns, one under-turret, two head guns, the cruise disrupter, torpedo and two more wing missile launchers. I studied his loadout; mostly Salamanca Mk Is and IIs, but there were also a few shieldbusters, Tizona del Cids. He had two cannonball missile launchers as well. We waited in line for launch, and after a couple of minutes we exited the docking bay. There was a very slow acceleration rate due to the massive amount of guns mounted. As we worked our way into cruise speed, which was modified to go at 450 meters per second, I looked around the vast expanse. Surrounding Rochester Base was the Jersey Debris Field. Large pieces of scrapped metal lay around, and Benitez dodged them with surprising agility. There was a bright white sun blazing just beyond the sight of Manhattan. He charged his cruise engines and made his way to a tradelane ring. Using a burst of thruster power, he lined up with the ring and quickly docked. We gained speed fast and were flying through the lanes. As we slowed down, I spotted Fort Bush, which wasn’t as large as I had heard it to be. He flew his way to the next tradelane. I grasped my control stick and placed my thumbs on the red buttons. I swung the guns to face a Liberty Light Fighter coming our way, guns ablaze. I fired hard, projecting a number of neutron clots at the ship. The Patriot’s pilot wasn’t expecting such heavy defense, and was hit by surprise when it lost a wing and was sent scorching. It started to retreat, but as I turned round I fired a short blast at him, tearing his hull apart. My next target was a Deep Space Engineering Starflier, which was firing Starbeams at us, barely touching our shields. I waited for a clean shot and fired, taking down its shields quickly. Unfortunately it flew over our upper fins, getting out of gunsight before I could blow its hull apart. Instead Benitez entered engine kill, and drifted aside. Soon the Starflier was coming into our view, and he fired a torpedo. The torpedo swung in its direction, and we neared the tradelane ring. He docked with it, and we saw a bright flash of light, signaling the destruction of the Civilian Light Fighter. We flew through this set of rings without any obstacles, and we reached Norfolk in no time. We hurried on to the next tradelane, and in around five minutes we were in Texas. We made our way safely through the North Dallas Debris Field, avoiding the many weapon platforms, sensor arrays and satellites lining the first tradelane. We were flying in cruise, and we had Beaumont Base in sight. To avoid the strong, distracting charges of the New York jump hole, we had flown down the far side, near the cloud. Suddenly, three wings of civilian fighters emerged from the cloud, followed immediately by a hostile reading alarm. Two wings of Startrackers, and another wing consisting of two Startrackers and a Civilian Hawk were flying towards us, and were labeled as Xenos. Benitez calmly turned left, but as we started heading in the direction, four more Xeno hostiles appeared on our sensors.

“****!” The commander cursed, biting his bottom lip, thinking quickly of what to do. He let the ship drop out of cruise speed and into engine kill, drifting as we slowly turned. He propelled us back in the opposite direction, the thrusters burning a thick gray cloud of smoke behind. Once again, three more Xeno ships appeared, all Startrackers. “Jace, listen up.” Benitez spoke, ignoring the missile warnings coming from the intercom. “I’m gonna try and get past the wave of fighters on the left, try and get rid of many as possible. There are a couple of Starfliers that I saw, so it should be easier than trying to fend off all of them. After that, you switch to a rear camera while I’ll try and get us to Beaumont. Got it?”
“Okay” I blankly replied. I pressed the targeting button for one of the ships, and swung my set of guns towards it. Straight away the first bunch of fighters got into firing range and was blasting their way through to us. I ignored them, and concentrated on my target. I fired my first pulse shots at it, a couple bolts missing but the other hit straight on, demolishing two thirds of his shield. I fired a deadly fury of neutrons at him, and he desperately tried to maneuver his way out of it, but even his fancy flying couldn’t avoid the flitting speed of the discharge. As I watched his wings detach in an explosion, I spotted something out of the corner of my eye. There was a Startracker headed straight for a large rusty metal debris chunk. The ship pulled back and started an arc to avoid it, going up and over the piece. I took advantage of the situation, and immediately switched targets to him. He wasn’t expecting this, and soon he had lost his thruster and was burning furiously. I let him run and shifted targets to the light fighter coming in from the right. I fired at him, watching my power meter. This pilot however was quicker than the others, and he dodged my first frenzy. I started firing again, but my projectiles were all just trailing behind him, and as I waited for some energy to come back, he drifted in engine kill, and thrusted his way towards our cockpit, guns blazing away. He hit us many times, but Benitez swung out of the way. The ship crashed straight into our port wing, and lost shields. I quickly switched my camera to a rear, and took aim using the two small turrets. He fired again at us, and we lost our capable shields.
“Hold out a bit longer, I’m almost within radio range”
Benitez shouted over his shoulder. I watched as my target flew down and out of my gunsight, who then activated a shield battery just in time to save himself from one of Benitez’s screamer mines. A green explosion filled the gap there. Looking at my sensor readouts, I realized that a few had fled, and there were only two fighters left; the Hawk and his wingman. They lined up together, and flew in perfect manual formation from our rear-left, firing like crazy. Though their direct hits were uncommon, they successfully took out our shield which had just come back online. The Hawk was armed with some class 5 guns and missiles, and was capable of wiping our ship out if we weren’t careful.
I spotted three dark figures emerging from the opposite side of the cloud, and I cursed silently, thinking that they were reinforcements for the Xenos. As I stared at them, the Hawk made another pass above us, and I seized the opportunity to fire away at his hull. I destroyed his shield, then subtargeted his port wing, which was closer. I started shooting again, and I tore the wing off. The pilot activated some nanobots for the damage, but left his shields out. The rest of his ship in tact, he made for another run, his wingman close behind. We went head to head, and Benitez and I fired like mad, but somehow the Fighters’ superior maneuverability kept them alive. We took some bad hits to our fin and starboard wing, but we dodged their missile. I was about to make another subtarget when a crackle of static sounded via the radio.

“This is Junkers Lambda Four dash one. How’re you holding up out there?” The voice radiated through the cockpit. I was startled by it, and missed my clear shot at the Hawk as it passed over us, deploying a small and ineffective Drone mine. Benitez tuned in to the public channel and spoke, “Corsair Beta Three here, was an ambush. Help us clean up these two last ruffians.”
“Will do, Beta Three” replied the CSVs. They flew and locked in behind the Xenos, taking them totally by surprise. They didn’t budge though, and continued to head for us on their second pass. Benitez said that they could handle them, so he increased his throttle and tried starting the cruise engines. I settled back in, loosening my grip on my controls when the whole ship shook, and we realized that they were still pelting us. A cruise disruptor hit us too, which allowed me to start shooting again. I turned and saw them heading our way, the hawk’s rear blazing, firing, trying to get their last bits of revenge. I concentrated on the other ship, which was also being fired upon by the Junkers trailing behind. Neutrons flew and viciously tore his body apart, leaving nothing but debris to add the massive collection already around us. The Hawk succeeded in taking out our shields with a Sweeper missile, and suddenly stopped shooting. This took us all at surprise, and we froze for a moment, including the CSVs. Unexpectedly, when the ship was only eighty meters from us, the glass cockpit shattered, and a small white object was propelled through space. We all realized what had happened. He had abandoned his ship to try and float to safety, leaving his burning ship on a collision course,with our unshielded cockpit! I tried to fire at the flying, flaming body, but realized I had used up a lot of the power supply. I stared stupidly, and the Hawk was speeding ever faster. It was so close I could feel the heat, even though deep down I knew that was just my imagination, but right then I felt as hot as a star. No doubt that when the ship collides it would shatter our hull to shreds, as nothing can stop a fiery ship at such a speed. Then I realized what had to be done. Sitting in front of me was Commander Benitez, staring as blankly as I had a split second ago. I reached forward, to jab that shield battery button, but was pulled back instantly by my seatbelt. Fumbling with the latch, I finally got it undone, and lunged forward once more, and hit the large blue button labeled with a small battery icon. It lit up and I flew back into my seat, with a sigh of relief. Then it hit. First the nose of the Hawk hit our shields. Bright white hexagons appeared, and the front of the ship collapsed. The cockpit area of the Hawk exploded outwards from the force, and a cruise disruptor launcher flew past, bouncing on our shields. Another loud explosion detonated, the starboard wing of the ship swinging over, heading straight towards us. I would’ve fainted if I didn’t know we were safe. I watched the front of the wing snap and crack right through and explode from the gases, as our shield dropped to a dangerous level. The Centurion was nudged over a bit, but its mass kept it upright, but still in the deep expanse of space. It did, however, cause me to bash my head against the side of my seat. Next time I’ll be sure not to take off my seatbelt when a burning ship is on a collision course. Both of us sat there for a moment, watching the flaming pieces of debris float. They extinguished after a few seconds.
“Nice one Corsair. Thought for a moment you were a goner.” The intercom said loudly, echoing through our silent cockpit. “Would you like us to escort you to Beaumont, I’m assuming that’s where you’re headed,Hello?...Corsair Beta Three dash one, do you read me? Do you copy?...Hello?...shi...” the speaker was cut off by a loud burst of static. The Junkers left us and flew off to Beaumont, while Benitez suddenly awoke from his trance-like state. “Thanks,uh,Jace” he said softly. In the silence he charged the cruise engines, and we headed off to Beaumont. “Good morning Commander Benitez, we haven’t heard from you for some time.” the radio buzzed out, imitating the voice of a male. It had been four days since we had that close call in Texas. Not much had happened since then, but now we met Benitez’s old pal, traveling through Cambridge’s Ice Field.
“How you doing Alvarez? Still trying to earn your honor back?” the Commander spoke, chuckling to himself. “Wesley Alvrarez here,accidentally, lit an entire biodome of food on fire, with an unguided missile. Tripoli shipyards. Never been well liked among his old friends, and that made it worse.” He explained, and I smiled, imagining such an incident. We were in formation, flying towards the Omega-5 jump hole. His wingmen had died in a furious battle a few hours ago, and so he was headed back to Cadiz, aborting his second-class mission. The ice cloud we were in was surprisingly dark yet misty. The blue clouds and asteroids floated by, suddenly clouding our field of vision, then they would dissipate, and we could see for miles. We reached the jump hole, and scanned to see if it was aligned. Thankfully it was, and we entered it, going through the head spinning process of system jumping. The lights cleared and there it was; Cadiz, in all its glory. A huge city built into that asteroid. We left our formation and flew independently as to avoid the large rocks. There was no worry though; the mines were on the other side of Cadiz Base.
“This is Cadiz to Heavy Fighter Patrol. We have picked you up on our passive scanners. Identify yourselves.”
“This is Corsairs Kappa Nine. We’re headed to Cadiz. Requesting permission to dock once we are in the docking sphere.” “Copy that, access is granted,Kappa Nine dash one, take landing bay two. Nine dash two follow after.”
“Roger that, thank you Cadiz.” Benitez entered autopilot, and I sat there watching our ship line up with the hole. Three metal door pieces slid apart, like jaws opening, ready to swallow us whole. As we entered the station, we were given back control of our ship, and the commander piloted our way down to an empty lot on the secondary landing pad. We got out, stretching our legs and arms. A few moments later we saw Alvarez’s Legionnaire fly down, and settle next to our ship. Well, it was no longer for my use, as I’d reached my destination.
“Thank you Commander Benitez,” I said, with a slight head bow.
“For bringing me here.”
“Forget it kid,” he said, even though I could easily tell he wasn’t much older than myself. He said his farewell, and walked off into the city. I climbed up on to his ship hull, and bent down into the cockpit to open the cargo bay doors. Listening to the grind of the gears and mechanics, I slid down and off, walked over and looked inside, found my bag and pulled it out. I shut the doors, and walked off, not having the slightest clue of where to go.

Two hours later, after a hot meal and some talking, I found one of two ship dealers on Cadiz. Apparently the other dealer was out on a business trip, so I had to travel nearly across the entire city to find the other one. I walked on the metal pathway, looking over and down, thick clouds of orange-brown gases blocking my view. I continued over, and saw a short, fat man studying a ship’s nastily dented fin. It was a Titan, a Very Heavy Corsair Fighter, and was severely damaged after I surveyed the rest of it. It was blackened by burns in some spots, and had panels peeling off on its wings and hull. The cockpit was twisted clockwise a bit, and there were wires and pipes sticking out in every odd direction. “Yes?” The man said, snapping me back to reality. “This baby was slaughtered yesterday. Not by Hessians, mind you. Mines, too many of them in this damned system. Hessians always get past them, those ships of theirs always flying around, ambushing us here and there, and besides those little critters don’t...” He cut himself off, realizing that he was rambling on, with me here. His eyes ****ed back up to you, and a fierce expression reoccupied his face. “What do you want?” “Are you the ship de...”
“Yes I’m the ship dealer, who do you think I am, Queen _____?
What do you want?” he repeated.
“How much do the Centurions cost?”
“So you wanna buy a ship then, eh? Standard freelancer price; 388,000, no shield included. If you know my grand-aunt’s maiden name, three hundred K. Corsair soldier, depends, in between two and four hundred K, insurance and military pay not included. Corsair loner like you, three fifty.” The man said, telling me everything. I had five hundred thousand credits in my card, and decided on something else. “Any Titans?”
“This one, and two more in the back. This one ain’t mine, and there are two others for sale. One is slightly modified, it’s secondhand. Ion compressor power plant, enlarged hold, doubly charged with a nice big blood red engine output. Fancy cut I’d say, with a beast like that you’ll outrun everyone. The other Titan; normal, getting a bit dusty though. Six fifty K, I’m eager to get rid of it. Buy a deep scanner off me for eight thousand and rob me blind. No shield though, go talk to the equipment guy.”
“Standard Titan; thanks.” I transferred the money and he had my new ship hauled to the local equipment dealer. I chose a pair of Angelito Mark IIIs, a Lancer Missile launcher with fourteen missiles, luckily it was one that came in yesterday and was secondhand, also I took a couple of Tizona del Cids and left my last gun slot with a Salamanca Mark I. I left my turret slot empty, and decided, with the money I had left, to modify it straight away. Step one; cut off the fin. Never liked fins, and besides it weighed a lot. I sawed it off, and made the remaining part a stub, and removed the turret hardpoint. The removal of the wires inside took a bit of time, but I got it out eventually. I decided to start on my way to Crete, and left Cadiz, not knowing that soon I would be back. Two days had passed since I left Cadiz, and I was just landing on Crete. Crete was a very subtle place, and I was glad to be back. I breathed the deep, sweet air as soon as I got out of my ship, and looked around, surveying the vast fields.
I had some food, and met up with all my old friends. I had no more family, my father was killed by a Bounty Hunter patrol, and left my mother and two sisters on Crete. We had a hard time, and I grew up to be a great pilot. My elder sister ran away, hiding aboard a convoy ship, wanting to explore the universe. She said she would come back, but we never got any news. Two days after that my mother passed away, from grief of the loss of two family members. My younger sister died from cardamine intoxication, when a visiting freelancer’s cardamine breather mask leaked. I killed him the next day. I didn’t, however pity him or his family.
I found my way to a bar, and looked at the job board, hoping to earn a bit more money. Then I found a perfect position; right wingman of a Corsair patrol. The previous holder lost his life when they were attacked by Bounty Hunters, and the patrol desperately needed someone to take his place. I signed up, and the next day I was flying in the middle of Omicron Gamma, looking for any Bounty Hunters who’d dare attack us. Three weeks later, I had earned quite a load of money, and decided for another ship upgrade, which served me well later that day. I looked at my ship, studying it, and then though about an internal change. I visited Gordon Blane, an engineer and friend. He dug out a Class B Outcast Power Generator, and fitted it with some new vents, and added some other junk for more power. He said it’d be much better than a standard Titan. I loaded it onboard, replacing the old, and added a high classed cooling system to the small gaps. I crawled around in my cargo bay, and installed some pipes along the side. I connected one end to an engine vent, the other to the generator, and had another friend slide expand the hull a bit. This was for letting out the hydrogen generated from my engine, and to just give a little extra boost to my thrust.
Next I bought an advanced thruster, and used a stabilizer pipe from my long gone fin to wire a new hardpoint. I also threw in a specialized cooling system, and made them superconductors. After that I carved out a few holes on my front wings, for a couple more guns. The wiring was a problem, so in the end I had cut my wings in two, making them a lot slimmer, but just as long. I plated the inner side of my cargo hold, removing space for 20 cargo pods but doubling its protection. I applied some light titanium armor to the front of my wings, and a large shield onto the back. That was good for me. For the guns, I removed all my guns except the shieldbusters. I fitted two C242 Launchers on my extra hardpoints, and filled the rest with Class 9 Salamanca Mark IIs. Loaded to the full potential, I waited until our next flight to test it out.
“This is Planet Crete to Patrol Ship Gamma Four dash Two, you are ready to go. Good luck.” I excitedly grabbed my control stick and turned. The massive weight addition really affected my ship. But then I activated my directional thrusters and it was as smooth as ever. Thankfully I didn’t go any slower, and we set off onto our patrol. Only six kilometers from the docking ring and we got into trouble. “Okay guys, get ready, I see some BH ahead.” Our leader said calmly. I smiled at the chance to test my new power supply and its capabilities. “Holy crap, there are six of them straight in front. We might not make it.”
“We will, don’t worry” I said, exiting cruise mode, powering up my weapons. The first Hammerhead got into range, and I started firing all my guns at it, thrusters on. As it was 200 meters in front of me I swept right, dodging a fast missile, but launching two of my cannonballs in the process. My targeting system switched to the next, signifying his death. My subject was right behind me, shooting at my rear. It took my shields out and stayed on my tail, while I couldn’t lose it. I entered engine kill, but the pilot was smart and flew ahead of me, dropping a mine along the way. I swung right, smashing into the mine, but thanks to my rear armor it did little damage. Checking my damage readout, my rear was barely hit, a lot less at least than the back of my wings. My target was now right in front of me, making another loop before going head on. I took the chance and fired at him, removing his shielding. Launching another expensive missile in the hopes of having a side hit, I flew a bit higher, hoping to go down and kill him. Instead of completing his loop, he flew towards me, and went straight under, shooting backwards with a turret. I drifted in engine kill again, and this time I had him in gunsight. I fired, and my neutrons ripped off his port wing, then his engines. He was left there, and soon exploded from a power surge.

I looked on my contact list and found three left. I saw two on my wingman’s rear, and warned him via radio. Slowing to a stop, I swiveled, and put full power to my engines, catching up with the fighters ahead. As I got in range, I subtargeted his thrusters, and fired at the little red reticule. I saw a small explosion, and he suddenly slowed down and tried to flee. I shot a Wasp missile, stopping him again. I blasted at his hull again, destroying his ship, blowing gray pieces of dust and debris in all directions. One of the other two just blew up, and we all targeted the remaining guy. He knew he couldn’t flee, so he turned on me first. With his stronger maneuvering he rolled out of sight, and then reappeared on my rear camera, shooting, them passing me ahead. I took the chance, engine killed, and shot at his wings. He lost his shield, but then dodged my missile with the help of his countermeasures. My other fellow pilot had gone straight up, and was shooting at the Bounty Hunter’s side, ripping apart a hole in the hull. He was left burning, and soon his ship exploded the cockpit shattering. We continued, only half damaged, without any more trouble.
Later, we landed, and I went off to the apartment to get some sleep. On my way, a Corsair with a Fleet Captain Pin on his chest approached me and said, “Jace _____?”
“Yes,” I replied softly, studying him, trying to recall him from my big memory banks.
“North Fleet Wing Leader Anthony Riquizzo.” he introduced, holding out his hand which I shook. He had a cold, clammy hand and he brought around a smell of cardamine wherever he went. “I have heard of your excellent skills in the patrols, and would like to hire you for a very important job” “Oh, really? What kind of job?”
“You are to escort Commander Ignacio Benitez to Cadiz Base in the Omega-5 system.”
“Wait,did you say Commander Benitez?”
“Yes, Commander Ignacio Benitez, why?” He asked with an eyebrow raise.
“Heh, he’s a,friend of mine, helped me out of a sticky situation” I explained, thinking in my head of what else I could’ve said.
“Really?” He sounded intrigued, but I knew it was just for making conversation. “Well, then. So you wouldn’t mind working with him?”
“Oh no, not at all,” He continued to talk to me there, and he gave me some pretty confidential information when I’d accepted the mission. Long ago, a plan was devised for taking control of Rheinland, but never was finished. Apparently, it had recently been completed, and was to start preparing straight away. Benitez was going to bring the plans and other things to Cadiz. He also mentioned that this was the ideal time to attack; they were weakened from their increased military power along house borders. We just needed to find the ideal spots to attack and Rheinland could easily become ours.
Two days later, I was on my way to the landing platforms, ready to leave Crete. I was walking towards the reserved pads, and found my ship resting there, looking mighty and glorious. I rested against the nose, pushing aside the torpedo mount so it won’t go up my butt, and relaxed, watching others walk around.
“Hi, are you by any chance Jace _____?” I spun to my left to see this young, thin man with white streaky hair staring at me with an inquisitive look on his face. He was wearing a distinct Corsair outfit, and had two small pistols neatly concealed underneath his top. Of course, they were visible to me, since I always check to see if strangers are armed. Then I quickly snapped myself back to reality and answered, “Yes, what do you want?”
“I’m Brian Astano, elite starpilot. We’re on the same
mission I believe,”
“Escort? Commander Benitez?”
“Yeah, that’s it. Where is he, do you know?”
“Nope. We still have a bit of time. Where’s your ship?” “Over there,” He said, pointing to a standard Titan sitting peacefully three pads away from mine. It looked like a normal Titan, with nothing changed.
“Is it modified? Doesn’t look like it,”
“Yeah it is. Not easily seen though. I’ve inserted extra power, armor upgrades and directional thrusters. I’ve also equipped a slightly higher mount on top of my guns, so that where it looks like there’s one Salamanca, there really is another gun right above it. Much more firepower, makes me a lot more deadly than I already am. He smiled wickedly, and then turned around as another voice bellowed across to us. “Jace!” Benitez boomed as he walked over, smiling widely. I nodded in reply, stifling a little ‘heh’ with a smile. “You must be Astano, then,” He said, shaking Brian’s hand.
“You seem very,uh,happy, today,” I said to the
commander, refraining from insulting him.
“Well, we are about to wage war against a military-based house, aren’t we? I always hated them. Why shouldn’t I be happy?” I decided it was best not to answer that, so we chatted a bit longer, and moved to our ships.
We left the docking ring without talking on the radio yet. I wanted to break the eerie silence, so I looked around for something to talk about. There was a green cloud to my right, and a darker, orange gas cloud to my left. Not much there to talk about. I studied the distant stars, and looked at their dullness, no longer twinkling with that flashy light they would when seen through an atmosphere. My eyes flicked across my dashboard, studying for anything to start a conversation about. I was eager. Then my eyes caught the contact list. Corsairs ... Titan ... Brian Astano. Corsairs ... Titan ... Ignacio Benitez. Titan. Benitez. Then it sparked. He was last flying a modified Centurion.
“Hey Benitez,” I said into my microphone.
“Yeah Jace?” He replied, starting his cruise engines. “Whatever happened to that,heavy fighter of yours? You know, the Centurion.” I said nervously.
“Crashed. Bang into an asteroid at top speed, while escaping some Hessians. Sounds stupid huh? I felt like a real dumbass. Luckily, Captain Ricozzo passed by and tractored in my escape pod.” He said, chuckling a bit. I decided not to reply, in case I might annoy him or anger him, which I wouldn’t want right now. We continued on, silence filling my cockpit.

This is epsiode one.

update on progress:

part 1: Initiation - Completed.
part 2: Engagement - 70%
part 3: Combat - 55%
part 4: Interference - Very Near Completed.
part 5: Domination - 70%
part 6: Corruption - 30%
part 7: Control - planned/partially written..like 10%

anyway, thats how i work. very oddly, in weird orders. anyway, dont expect any more from me soon, school, airband, etc is taking up too much time.
oh yeah, i left Queen whatsherface blank cuz i was scouring the DLLs for the queen of bretonia’s name but i couldnt find it. help please...meh oh and i need a hispanic name for jace that means like stealithly, sneaky, malevolent, either one.

Coolbeano
[FP3_POLICEMember of the Freeport 3 Police Department
-/A/-Member of the Avengers

Very nice, very nice indeed

That is a great peice of work mate!

When the going gets tough , Diablo-cable-guy comes out to play!

Queen Carina for Bretonia. As for malevolent? Diablo can translate as "devil", but that's a bit too obvious.

"disimulado" in Spanish is the word for "sneaky", and "malévolo" is "malevolent". I like "cauteloso" for "stealthy". That word almost sounds like it could be a real Spanish last name, so I'd go for that or a modification thereof that doesn't mess up the sense too badly.

Edited by - Hahukum Konn on 11/9/2004 5:45:02 PM