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Drunk Serco Night
Darth Ender awoke suddenly but calmly. The cybernetic implants having triggered an abrupt end to his sleep cycle as ship's sensors detected a possible hostile ship entering the system. The optical circuitry in his eyes already flashing sensor data regarding the ship's pilot.
Another false alarm.
"Just another upstart young Serco who doesn't know better." He said to himself as the loud humming of his high efficiency mining beams drowned out all other sounds in the cramped cockpit of his run down Hornet.
Strip mining is not a Serco way to live and yet, this had become his routine. Day after day, roid after roid, with nothing but the dull yellow glow of the beams blanketing the view of dust and rubble 20 meters above the surface of another featureless common rock in space. He'd sleep and let the roid slowly heat up until the beams hardly looked like they were working.
It wasn't always like this for Darth Ender, it wasn't even that long ago that he was out in the lawless grey sectors shooting at and getting shot by Itanis and pirates alike.
"Damn this run down piece of crap hornet!" He yelled as he punched the console hard with a fist that was more metal than flesh. The ship's thrusters finally responded bringing the ship to a stop next to another large asteroid. He paused for a moment before initiating the trio of mining beams that would run for the next 18 hours straight.
The neurochemical implants that monitor and regulate all the various chemicals affecting his brain had been programmed to ignore the call to battle and feel nothing. And yet, as he delayed in giving the "telepathic" command to start, he began to feel again and what he felt was a familiar emotion to any Serco, anger. He remembered Drunk Serco Night, a ONE tradition in Ukari, now ruined by by the seemingly impotent ongoing war in Deneb. It was one thing for a Serco to partake in killing the lowly smurfs but true Serco knew that dueling on Drunk Serco Night among dozens of your fellow Serco was worth killing a hundred Itani.
He couldn't even recall the last time he flew with the guild. Their operations being so far away and the constant Itani blockades meant that they haven't been in contact since Darth came back to deep Serco territory. No doubt they were bathing in the debris of Itani ships out in Sedina or Latos. But they too would have not been able to properly celebrate Drunk Serco Night since it can not be celebrated anywhere but in the original location of the very first Drunk Serco Night on the edge of Ukari space.
Darth Ender finally gave the mental command to fire up the mining beams and the ship vibrated to life. His neuro-implants obviously unable to compensate for the intense hatred of the Itani and their smurf peons up in Deneb. He thought of beating the ship's console until it exploded, it would be a better way to spend the day than mining. Instead he cursed the Maker for favoring the Itani and their yellow blooded pirate friends.
No response, as usual. The Maker had stopped answering the Serco's calls long ago.
A glass came rolling from the aft of the ship, knocked down by his violent shaking of the antiquated physical flight stick in his obsolete Hornet class ship. Darth picked it up while sitting in the cockpit, still full of hate, not just of smurfs and the silent Maker but of himself. It was last Serco Ale he had while celebrating with his guild. He looked at the now dry dull bottle. Darth hadn't had Serco Ale since that day, thinking it would be easier to forget what had been lost if there was nothing to remind him of it. That's also why he had been in radio silence since then. Despite his efforts though, it seemed to not want to be forgotten. Darth glared at the bottle and then threw it at the ship's canopy where it ricocheted dangerously around the cockpit. Darth Ender was no stranger to reckless endangerment and didn't flinch.
"Deneb be damned, bring your connies and tridents and whatever else you dare wish to send to their early graves. There will be another Drunk Serco Night!" He exclaimed at nothing but his own reflection in the glass.
Then he smirked, "And nothing goes better with Serco Ale than watching Itani explode like fireworks."
With that he disabled his mining beams and plotted a course for Pyronis. As his ship raced to the first in a series of jumps he re-initialized his comm system. He set it to a known Itani band and hoped the transmission reached all the way back to Itan.
"War is coming, and the Serco are thirsty"
Another false alarm.
"Just another upstart young Serco who doesn't know better." He said to himself as the loud humming of his high efficiency mining beams drowned out all other sounds in the cramped cockpit of his run down Hornet.
Strip mining is not a Serco way to live and yet, this had become his routine. Day after day, roid after roid, with nothing but the dull yellow glow of the beams blanketing the view of dust and rubble 20 meters above the surface of another featureless common rock in space. He'd sleep and let the roid slowly heat up until the beams hardly looked like they were working.
It wasn't always like this for Darth Ender, it wasn't even that long ago that he was out in the lawless grey sectors shooting at and getting shot by Itanis and pirates alike.
"Damn this run down piece of crap hornet!" He yelled as he punched the console hard with a fist that was more metal than flesh. The ship's thrusters finally responded bringing the ship to a stop next to another large asteroid. He paused for a moment before initiating the trio of mining beams that would run for the next 18 hours straight.
The neurochemical implants that monitor and regulate all the various chemicals affecting his brain had been programmed to ignore the call to battle and feel nothing. And yet, as he delayed in giving the "telepathic" command to start, he began to feel again and what he felt was a familiar emotion to any Serco, anger. He remembered Drunk Serco Night, a ONE tradition in Ukari, now ruined by by the seemingly impotent ongoing war in Deneb. It was one thing for a Serco to partake in killing the lowly smurfs but true Serco knew that dueling on Drunk Serco Night among dozens of your fellow Serco was worth killing a hundred Itani.
He couldn't even recall the last time he flew with the guild. Their operations being so far away and the constant Itani blockades meant that they haven't been in contact since Darth came back to deep Serco territory. No doubt they were bathing in the debris of Itani ships out in Sedina or Latos. But they too would have not been able to properly celebrate Drunk Serco Night since it can not be celebrated anywhere but in the original location of the very first Drunk Serco Night on the edge of Ukari space.
Darth Ender finally gave the mental command to fire up the mining beams and the ship vibrated to life. His neuro-implants obviously unable to compensate for the intense hatred of the Itani and their smurf peons up in Deneb. He thought of beating the ship's console until it exploded, it would be a better way to spend the day than mining. Instead he cursed the Maker for favoring the Itani and their yellow blooded pirate friends.
No response, as usual. The Maker had stopped answering the Serco's calls long ago.
A glass came rolling from the aft of the ship, knocked down by his violent shaking of the antiquated physical flight stick in his obsolete Hornet class ship. Darth picked it up while sitting in the cockpit, still full of hate, not just of smurfs and the silent Maker but of himself. It was last Serco Ale he had while celebrating with his guild. He looked at the now dry dull bottle. Darth hadn't had Serco Ale since that day, thinking it would be easier to forget what had been lost if there was nothing to remind him of it. That's also why he had been in radio silence since then. Despite his efforts though, it seemed to not want to be forgotten. Darth glared at the bottle and then threw it at the ship's canopy where it ricocheted dangerously around the cockpit. Darth Ender was no stranger to reckless endangerment and didn't flinch.
"Deneb be damned, bring your connies and tridents and whatever else you dare wish to send to their early graves. There will be another Drunk Serco Night!" He exclaimed at nothing but his own reflection in the glass.
Then he smirked, "And nothing goes better with Serco Ale than watching Itani explode like fireworks."
With that he disabled his mining beams and plotted a course for Pyronis. As his ship raced to the first in a series of jumps he re-initialized his comm system. He set it to a known Itani band and hoped the transmission reached all the way back to Itan.
"War is coming, and the Serco are thirsty"
"War is coming, and the Serco are thirsty."
The transmission ended.
"Damn right we are!" A-Dawg exclaimed. He was drifting in his Serco Vulture Guardian just outside the wormhole range in Ukari A-10. Intelligence suggested that there was a war convoy, full of Itani mongrels heading this way, this very evening. Do your worst, smurf scum.
The transmission ended.
"Damn right we are!" A-Dawg exclaimed. He was drifting in his Serco Vulture Guardian just outside the wormhole range in Ukari A-10. Intelligence suggested that there was a war convoy, full of Itani mongrels heading this way, this very evening. Do your worst, smurf scum.