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STORY

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Apr 15, 2005 smittens link
Not Role Play. It's a STORY
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The Chronicles of Smittens

Part 1: The Return

For most of my life I couldn’t care less what lay on the other side of the glass windows that protected me from the cold of space. I was interrested in buisness and politics, not the silly misadventures of those who seek death. This is, I suppose, because I was raised in Divinia, in an Itani Capital Station, rather than one of the stations in Itan where you had to either be born lucky or born rich to earn power.

I would often stay up late, resting in my chair, staring at the ceiling wondering how to haul in success. One of those days, I hear a knock on my door. Not many where awake at that time, least of all up and about, so I grabbed a knife from my kitchen on the way to the door. The station’s residents might be good people who mean no harm, but there’s no telling what pirate docked that day. I edged to the door when I heard the knock again. In one swift movement I hit the button to open the door and held the knife out at whoever was out there with my other hand. But a second later, I let it fall to the floor. Smiling at me was my brother Samsonelite.

He was three years older than me, and had left the station two years ago claiming to be “endlessly restless” and seeking something no one could name, though he had the idea it could be found at the controls of a Space Ship. He promised to return two months after that, and when a year went by I figured him dead. Another lost to the Great Abyss. When I opened the door to him, and saw him grinning in that way that meant “Wait til you hear this” I was speechless. After a minute of us looking at each other, I whispered to him to come in, and we sat on opposite chairs. For nearly an hour he recounted his tale of buying a ship called a “bus” to pilots for virtually nothing, of how he found out that there were robots in asteroid belts the government would pay you to destroy, of the peaceful darkness where an hour or a day could pass without alerting you. It wasn’t until later that I realized how little experience he had.

“It’s amazing. You have to come. Just try it for a couple hours,” he said, smile not fading from his face despite my refusal. But my brother had virtually come back from the dead, and so I agreed after further preasuring on his part. “I saved my bus, and payed a buddy to fly it over here for you,” he told me as we walked to the docking bay. When we enterred I was immediatly struck speechless as I saw a gigantic ship taking up most of the space, at least a hundred mechanics slaving over it.

“Is that...your ship?” I asked, finding my voice eventually.

“Hah! I wish!” he grinned. “That’s a capital ship. Between us and the Serco there’s a race to finish ‘em.”

“Oh right,” I responded, feeling stupid. No one in my political situation could not know about the capital ships, the soon-to-be pride of the Itani military, but the developers had said it would be another six months til one would be operational.

“My ship,” said my brother, inturrupting my thoughts, “luckily doesn’t cost over five million credits,” and he pointed to a much smaller, sleeker ship about fifty feet from us. “Centurion, mark two” he said proudly, and then pointed to a larger, uglier ship. “And there’s your EC-88, aka Bus. Sorry about those dings, but it happens.”

Part 2: First Flight

He opened up the entry hatch, and climbed in after me, pointing to the different controls and explaining what they did. A minute later he showed me how to take off and land before getting out of the bus and into his Centurion. I took the controls and, following his lead, took off. As the ship passed though the blue energy protecting the docking bay from space and I looked around, I was speechless. Endless space rolled out further than I could see, the blacknes broken by the occasional star. Holding more still than one would think and acting almost as the station’s gaurdian were hundered of asteroids, a dull brown that broke the stifling blackness very well. I was startled to see a blue ship turboing past me, but as I took a closer look I took note with awe of the aerodynamic shape and well crafted design of its hull.

Breaking my pensive silence came a monotone female voice. “You have a Basic Combat Mission active. Would you like to abort this mission?” I looked around for a keyboard or anything that might help. “Would you like to abort this mission?” the voice repeated. I spotted a button labeld “Comm” and hit it, saying loudly and clearly “Yes.” A voice responded, though it was not the same as the one I had just heard.

“Yo, what’s up? Trouble aborting your mission? Talk to the mission computer, not channel 1.” Embarrassed, I searched again and found this time a green button with “MC” labeld under it, and I pressed it, again saying “Yes.” This time, the female voice responded.

“You killed 0 bots total. Thank you for taking this mission.” Relieved at my success, I rose my arms triumphantly. But the victory was short lived. I slammed into an asteroid, throwing me forwards, and I was glad to be belted in. A warning noise went off, and I looked around worried. Again, a voice broke into my ship, but this time I recognized it as my brothers.

“You okay!? What the hell happened?” I said nothing, too worried of further embarrassment to look for the means to respond. A moment later, my brother said something else. “Oh, duh, I forgot to show you communication. Just dock again and I’ll explain it.” Relieved at his realization, I slowly flew back and docked, seeing my brother standing by his ship, grinning at me. He called over a mechanic as I exited, and lead me to the Centurion to show me how the Comm system worked. It was simpler than my experiences had lead me to believe, and a couple minutes later I walked over to the bus’ mechanic, asking for an update.

Part 3: Prometheus Sighted

“Nothing much, just a dent on the front. You got lucky you weren’t going any faster. Still, I wouldn’t take your date out on this,” the mechanic chuckled at his joke, “but if you’d take her out in a bus anyway, I’m sure a dent wouldn’t matter.”

“Thank you,” I responded coldy, getting in the ship. I took off without waiting for my brother, slightly out of anger at the mechanic, slightly in a fervish desire to see the beauty of space again. As I left, smiling peacefully, a red, something, flew by. My first thoughts were that it was an asteroid, but I quickly noticed a trail of thrust. Even more confusing was the collection of oval-ish ships speeding after it. Out of curiosity, I targetted one of them. “Aerena Seeker” flashed on a small screen on the control panel. A second later, the word “Robot Guard” appeared under it. Just behind these seekers were about four of the sleek ships I had seen outside the station before. They must also be guards, I figured. At that point I sped after the cluster, trying to get a better look of the thing being chased. It was getting further and further ahead of me, but I saw enough of it to realize it was a ship. A large one at that. It’s armour gleamed but proudly displayed many scars of battle, and I knew that it was thicker than most ships. Multiple guns dotted its frame, and a black cockpit sat atop the front. It was a monster of a ship, and I suddenly realized I was persuing it in my frail EC-whatever. I hit the breaks and spun around, dashing away in the opposite direction. I heard explosions behind me, and felt my ship quake. Despite what my mind was yelling at me, I turned back around in time to see one of the seekers slam into the ship and exploding, flipping it around, exposing the helpless side without guns to protect it. A few more seekers slammed into it, and the guards opened fire. Turqoise burst that I could not identify streamed out of their weapons ports at an amazing rate, ripping apart the other’s hull. But the seekers were all gone, and the monster ship righted itself before moving in some pattern I couldn’t follow and returning fire with a screaming rockett and two purple blasts. The stand off lasted for but a moment. The smaller ship stood little chance and I saw it explode, the flame going out almost instantly. But the other guards had caught up, and ripped off large chunks of metal with their devestating blasts. The large ship took a few last shots at one of the guards then its engine was hit, and was lost in a ball of flame, rocking the other guards, who flew back to the station at once. This was my first experience with a Prometheus, pride of the Serco army.
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I'll work on more of this (if you guys want) and try to bring it up to date. Originally it was just a story of Samsonelite (my Bro IRL) introducing me to VO...then his first encounter with an Apu-Tech (:D) But I had a lot of fun writing the potential update to the Chronicles of Exile part involving IA/BL, so I would love to write that here.
Apr 15, 2005 Borb II link
Hehe, I really do think that it's a RP but what ever.

More! :D
Apr 15, 2005 LeberMac link
You should write more Smittens. I want to hear the part about the ApuTech...
Apr 16, 2005 smittens link
Okay, working on Part 4 now: Apu Tech
Apr 17, 2005 yodaofborg link
"It was a behemoth, and I suddenly realized I was persuing it in my frail EC-whatever." ?

I thought it was a prom, hehe, nice story though.
Apr 17, 2005 Moofed link
Note the lowercase 'b' in behemoth, indicating it is not a Behemoth, the 120cu cargo ship, but simply a behemoth of a spaceship which a Prom qualifies as at 21m length.

That said, I was confused too.
Apr 17, 2005 smittens link
Lol, I actually wrote this long before it came out... *fixes*
Apr 22, 2005 LeberMac link
/me whacks Smittens with the +5 stick of prodding.
Write more!
Apr 23, 2005 smittens link
Part 4: Apu-Tech

My life continued like this for a while, my brother and I taking trips into bot-filled sectors together, covering each others' backs against the ferocious Dentek Assaults and Orun Collectors. It was a simple life, earning us enough to live comfortably (though not richly). The main blows to our income were when we qualified for licenses--the officials who would test us required a large sum of money. Eventually the Itani Government stepped in, granting licenses without the requirements of tests, unfortunately not before my brother and I had lost hundreds of thousands of credits.

A few days after the new license policy, I recieved a message from my aunt and uncle that my cousin, Heywood Jerome, had graduated from school. As a surprise I flew my new Centurion Mark II all the way to Deneb, avoiding asteroid belts rumored to contain bots that would make even the most experienced pilot think twice before attacking. I spent a few nights with my extended family, taking my cousin out a few times in my Centurion. It was on one of these trips that a static message came through my comm.

"Help...got stuck...storm...chasing me...can't last--" at this point the voice broke off, and a message flashed across one of the many screens of my cockpit. "Transmission distance exceeded" My cousin and I exchanged questioning looks. "Hold on a second..." I muttered to him, pressing select keys. "Private Message" now appeared on the screen. I hit "reply" until my ship got so pissed off it said "Transmission distance exceeded" aloud instead of on my screen. I spun my agile ship around, turboing away from the station.

"Where are we going?" Heywood asked.

"We need to find out who that was. It was a private message, which means that its someone I know. And out of all I'm aquainted with, few know my comm number in this new ship, and those who do I would give my life to save."

"But what about my parents?"

"I'll send them a message," I responded. "They'll understand, and you won't be in danger, I promise." I flashed my cousin a reasuring smile as my ship sped up, jumping towards the nearest wormhole.

As we flew across sectors, I would occasionally hit "Reply," though still with no luck. My cousin slept most of the journey, leaving me alone with my thoughts. After passing through the Pherona gate to Artana Aquilies, my efforts finally paid off. In desperation, I pressed the Reply key one last time, and the smooth voice of my computer finally responded in a positive manner. "Connection made to ship 44952: Samsonelite.'" The shock of this left me speechless for a moment, but the sound of an explosion through the comm woke me up. "Bro?" I asked weakly.

"Finally!" his voice responded, this time recognizable over the crackling. "I've been stuck out here! It's an Apu-Tech. You gotta get down here fast, I need help! I'm in Div-" the comm again went dead.

"No!" I cried, slamming my fist on the "Reply" key. "I don't care what's wrong! Connect me again!" I yelled over my computer's newest error message. My cousin dashed into the cockpit.

"What's wrong?"

"Sam's stuck somewhere in Divinia, in trouble. We have to get there now! But I don't know where!"

"Did you try tracing the transmission?"

"What?" I asked, having never heard of this.

"You can trace the transmission. Hit command and reply."

I did so, and "Divinia N14" appeared on the nearest screen.

"Buckle up." I said simply, speeding forwards.

Minutes later, we entered Divinia, and were 3000m away from any huge objects. Cleared to jump, I set my coordinates to N14, pressed a key, and uttered a soft prayer (despite never being religious) as my ship rocketed off leaving a trail of orange.

As we enterred normal speed, a hazard siren went off.

"What's that!?" asked my cousin frantically.

"Ion storm," I responded, seeing the metallic purple specs bouncing off my ship. I flipped on my sector comm. "Sam?" I asked quietly. No responce. I accelerated towards a clump of asteroids, seeing a few thrust trails around them. As I neared the mysterious ships, something heavy hit mine. "Go see what that was," I told Heywood. He ran to the back of the ship to peer out the small rear window, and gasped. "It's part of a ship!" he cried.

Fear gripped me, and dreading what I would find, I spun my ship around. I saw what was clearly a wing drifting away, and I followed it, finally getting close enough to make out a number--the ship ID. I read it several times, sure my eyes were playing tricks on me. 44952. 44952. 44952. Sound seemed to have stopped, except for my minds voice reading the number again and again. Heywood walked slowly up, reading the number.

"44952?" he asked, and I knew he didn't understand. I looked at him, but could not speak. I couldn't acknowledge it. Surely we were wrong. Surely the numbers were scarred by the explosion. Surely it was the remains of something my brother had destroyed.

"Sam? Bro?" I said again into the comm this time, my voice cracking. Still no response. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see Heywood's face, still marked with confusion, with innocence. I starred at nothing, remembering the last time I had seen Samsonelite. His last words echoed in my mind. "I need help!" Taunting, torturing. I failed.

"Watch out!" my cousin cried, but my mind and body were numb. I dimly recognized the asteroid as my ship crashed into it, not feeling the jerk forwards or hearing the screech of twisting metal. Heywood grabbed the controls, pointing towards the "Exit Point" marked on my HUD. "I can't do this!" he cried. "We'll both die if you don't fly us out!"

I looked at him slowly, and as though in a dream state, saw my hands grasp the controls, and pilot my ship out. We were around 2000m from the point when my ship's battery ran out of charge. I stopped to let it recharge, when another shock rocked my ship, another warning noise going off. The words "Apu Tech CV7-HM76" flashed across my screen. It was going to kill me. I started turning my shape to face my brother's murderer when I caught sight of my cousin. His face, still shaped by innocence, watched me. I was ready to fight to my death, but not to bring him with me. My battery fully charged, I sped off towards the exit point, but my enemy was just as fast. My targetting computer showed I was gaining no ground, and I kept hearing shots smash my ship.

Heywood's eyes were fixed on the display of my ship's condition and the percent of armor remaining that kept dwindling. I could see yellow shots missing my hull, but judging by the number and by the fact that my ship was still getting shot, I figured they were fired in a spread, like a shotgun. 20%...10%... As I reached less than 100m from the exit, I began hitting my jump button rappidly. 7%...80m...5%...50m...3%...10m... I hit the jump key for the last time, closing my eyes as Heywood let out a whimper.

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Ta Da. Probably not as good as the previous stuff, I wrote this later at night...
Apr 23, 2005 LeberMac link
I liked part 4 best of all!
More! Don't make me get out the stick again...
Jun 12, 2005 smittens link
Part 5: Further More....

Despite my instincts, I turned to see my attacker. His latest burst of orange shells moved fast...but I had escaped the storms interference. The orange particles of deadly energy disapeared as my ship lurched forwards out of their reach.

I closed my eyes, my head falling back against my chair, but any rest I was looking for wouldn't come with the adrenaline speeding through my veins. And it was probably a good thing, who knew what nightmares I would find in sleep.

"What about Sam?" my cousin asked. "Will we go back for him?"

Incredibly, through the clouds of darkness in my mind, I felt the slightest ripple of amusement. The feeling surprised me. What was funny about my cousin not understanding that my brother was dead?

Dead. Gone. Stripped of this universe. The grandeur of space had fooled me, sucking me in only to slap me in the face. I hadn't been wrong, adventuring in the cold darkness could bring only death.

"Smit?" Heywood's voice came again, breaking into my thoughts.

I looked at him, trying to think of how to say it. "Sam is.....Heywood, that wing we saw. It was Sam's."

Heywood's eyes widened to an extent I didn't think would be possible. "But...but..." he stammered.

I turned away, unable to be looking when the full comprehension donned on him. I piloted my ship into the docking port at Divinia F6. I helped Heywood out of the cockpit as a crew of mechanics raced over to my flaming ship. I stumbled as I started walking towards my quarters, Heywood following slowly behind me. I hit a button outside my door and it slid open with a hiss. We walked inside, and Heywood collapsed on the couch. Another wave of grief washed over me--the couch that Sam had sat on when he had so miraculously returned, only to be taken away again.

I sat slowly on a chair near Heywood, thinking only thoughts of sadness for hours. Eventually it turned from pain to numbness, and rational thoughts began reentering my brain. It struck me that I should alert Heywood's parents that he was here with me, and about what had happened.

I dialed their comm number at the communications station in my bedroom, but instead of my aunt or uncle's voice responding an error message came through "No current residents." So they were out. I redailed, this time using their ships' number, and my aunt picked up.

For over an hour we talked about Sam. She provided comforting words, but my mind wouldn't accept them. After a second hour passed, I heard a voice coming through on their ship.

"'Ello fine sir or miss. Nothin to be worryin about, but if you could please drop yer cargo, or transfer fifty thousuand credits to Shape, us Corsairs would be happy to make your lives better by allowing them to continue," said the oily voice of a man.

"What's happening?" I asked, dreading the answer.

"Pirates, dammit. We don't have any cargo or money...they cleaned us out last time!" replied my aunt.

"Too late." came the voice again, and I hurt the screech of metal getting pounded by lasers.

"We can't make it...but we're going to take them out. Tell Heywood we love him."

"No!" I cried back, but I heard the thrust of their ship.

"Weren't expecting a kamikaze now were you ****ers!?" I heard my uncle yell, his wording surprising me. There was a loud clunk through the comm and an explosion be fore the line went dead.

More loss, more death. I couldn't escape it, I couldn't fight it. I scribbled a note to Heywood, "Check the comm." before leaving. I was too cowardly to be there when he found out, too cowardly to try to comfort my cousin. I threw one more look at Heywood before leaving my room.

---

Blegh, I'm getting tired of this sad stuff, and I'd bet you are too, but I figure this part was necesary as a follow up to last section and a way to get Heywood to stick around. Stay tuned for the next installment, Friends and Foes, gaurenteed to be 80% less emo!
Jun 12, 2005 LeberMac link
Nice to see you could take a break from GTA:SA to communicate with us, Smittens!
When is Heywood's story? Does he get to write any?
Jun 15, 2005 smittens link
Part 6: The Call to Arms

Over the next few months life started returning to as normal a state as it could be in. Heywood's days after he found out about his parents' death were spent with hiding and sneaking into bars, but I wouldn't stop him. A few times I tried to get back into the world of buisness, but every attempt I made was halted with grief over my departed family or, to my surprise, the lust for the adventures in the trap of space. Yet I knew what had happened to so many out there--I stayed inside the protective walls of the station at Divinia F6.

After a while Heywood began to pick up the normal life of a teenager, he started going to school and having fun with friends. I began work as a System Manager, my job simply to monitor who entered and left the system, and more importantly, the station. It was one of these days where a pilot called Aon jumped in with a call to arms.

"Requesting help from all able bodied Itani. Within the hour a convoy of ours will leave from Bractus C5, heading up to Divinia M14. It carries extremely important cargo essential to the production of our more valuable weapons. The Serco will attempt to attack and destroy this convoy, and recover its cargo to further their own technological growth. We need as many pilots as possible to be standing by this convoy. If it gets destroyed it will be up to us to bring the cargo safely back to Divinia M14." The voice cut out, and a new one entered the room, though this time the voice of one of my superiors.

"All System Managers with combat experience may be granted leave of their current duties if they wish to help Aon," it said.

At this point, I heard a third voice, though this time from behind me. It was Heywood, though I hadn't heard him enter. "You should go Smit. They need you."

I turned to look at him. "I could do more here. And besides, what would happen to you?"

"Well..." Heywood looked hesitant, obvioiusly holding back something. "Well, don't get mad...but a couple friends of mine have taken me out of the station...and I've done some piloting and shooting, and beat all of them. I think I could help too."

The surprise of this statment, luckily for Heywood, overrode my anger. "But...but I told you you weren't supposed to! And there is no way I would let you go out there with me."

"We can help! Aon needs us!"

"We don't even know Aon!"

"We know enough. He's Itani, and is trying to help our nation. How do you know that that cargo wouldn't give Serco the edge they need in putting out the first Capital Ship? And then what good will you do sitting here? When they jump in here with a fleet of fifty of them montoring what they say won't help!"

I looked at him, ready to send him off to our appartment, but the side of me that had been itching to get back into space was telling me he was right. I could help. I had managed to get my fifth combat license before I left space, and that could buy me a nice ship to hold off the Serco.

"Fine," I said after a minute of thought. "I'll go, but you have to stay here. And if I get any reports of you doing something else I told you not to..."

Heywood sighed. "Fine. I'll obey your orders oh great master." I threw him a stern look, then turned and started walking out.

"Oh," I called back, "And tell Kepler I know what he was doing last night, and if he does it again I'm gonna have to inform his parents."

Heywood laughed, "Cmon, you know it was a dare. What choice did he have?"

"How about the choice to not see how many drinks he could get down in a minute?"

Heywood laughed again. "Alright, but its not my fault if he's pissed."

"Unlike you I have the responcibilty to accept my actions you punk," I replied, smiling. "See you in a couple days."

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Okay, I promise the next one is "Friend and Foe"
Jun 16, 2005 LeberMac link
Wow - Great Story Smittens! Where do I come in?
Jun 16, 2005 smittens link
Part 20: The Devil Within
Jun 17, 2005 LeberMac link
Damn. Am I at least the devil?
Jun 17, 2005 smittens link
No, you're the Devil's little brother's pet's slave.
Jun 17, 2005 smittens link
Part 7: Into the Trap

A few minutes later I was in the docking bay, loading up my ship. I noticed at least 20 other pilots--if Aon was right about the cargo's importance to the Serco, this was going to be one helluva fight. As I sealed my ship I felt the farmiliar urge to get my ship out of the docking bay. Excitement rose in me that I hadn't felt for a while as the crackling blue shield gave way to my ship.

I looked around at the flock of other ships emerging from the station behind me. Vultures, Centurions, and to my surprise, a bus. Poor guy doesn't know what he's getting into. I thought before remembering that neither did I. Curious, I checked his stats. "Eldrad" was his name, or at least what he was called. I had heard him talking on the channels a lot, but as with most things the bigger the mouth the worse the talent. When I saw that he only had three combat licenses, I laughed out loud. I flew my ship right next to his, and messaged him saying "This isn't for newbs. Why don't you work on your licenses a bit before you try this out?" To which Eldrad responded only with a smile.

I quickly spotted Aon's ship, a gleaming Vulture like mine, but unlike my Mark Two Vulture he was flying a Four. I chased after him, jumping to the wormhole to Jallik just behind him. As we sped towards the wormhole, I dialed him up.

"So what else can you tell me about this?" I asked, trying to sound casual as if I had merely forgotten how this went, as opposed to having never heard of it.

"Its simple enough. We're going to be launching a convoy on the path I mentioned earlier. The cargo needs to get up there, whether in the 'voy or not."

"So its just this fleet?" I responded.

"No, I've been making the call to all the systems on my way up. Plus the 'voy has some Bot Gaurds that'll be launched with it. Still, AI will never beat human instincts, so we'll probably be needed."

"I suppose that's why the Serco have never been at the top of the intelligence ladder."

Aon laughed, then warped through the hole.

---

Okay, I'm gonna stop making guesses at when "Friend and Foe" comes out because they never seem to be right. I've been told that the last part was lacking excitement, and I think this one is too, but I tried to put in some tension to keep you all occupied (though knowing my talent, or lack there of, I'm sure no one will notice it)
Jul 03, 2005 smittens link
Part 8: Capture the Cargo

Thirty minutes later the Itani fleet jumped into Bractus C5. Most pilots docked immediately, probably looking to see how much they could drink before they were summoned. I kept my ship outside, anxious for the convoy to launch and not wanting to waste time getting back in.

I counted seven pilots, myself included, sitting outside the station. A second later, a blue bus left the station. Eldrad, I thought to myself. “Those idiots. One drink and they’ve already picked a fight with the locals. If they aren’t careful Ineubis is going to convert to Serco,” he said to the sector.

Suddenly a message appeared on one of my screens. “Aon has invited you to join his group.” Eagerly, I accepted, and checking the roster noticed that it was the eight of us outside,

“To what do I owe this honor?” I asked jokingly.

“If you’re sitting outside the station instead of getting drunk I’d like to keep an eye on your health. I’d prefer to save you than one of our intoxicated pilots.”

“Thanks,” I said laughing.

A different voice now came through my ship. “But I’d grab something else to fly if I were you, that won’t hold much cargo,” it said. I glanced down and saw that it was a pilot by the name of Fing Legendum. I targeted him, curious as to his licenses. Like Aon, he was flying a Vulture Mk. 4, but to my surprise I noticed he had enough licenses to buy a Valkrye, believed to be the fastest ship in the universe.

I kept my surprise to myself, and asked back “What would you recommend?” After all, how much cargo could this convoy have?

“Anything with more room than that,” he replied.

Glancing around to make sure I hadn’t already missed the convoy, I hurriedly docked and got out of my ship, running towards the shipyard.

To the Ineubis I was just another face in the crowd, and I knew there were a lot of ships they wouldn’t be offering me, but I should still be able to buy something more suitable. I glanced around, eyes resting on an Atlas.

It was a sleek white ship, rather like a pencil chopped in half at an angle. It was a trading ship, and was obviously not flown in combat for a reason, but it was considered fast enough to be a mediocre smuggling ship. I approached the salesman and, not bothering to haggle, handed him a pouch of credits around the displayed price.

“Would’ja like a different paint job?” he called after me as I dashed towards the ship. It was an ugly peach color, but I didn’t want to waste the time or money.

“No thanks,” I replied, opening the cockpit. Just as I was getting in, one of the Itani who had come with us left the bar, walking towards his ship.

He threw a look at me, laughing. “Nice ship, and I love the color.”

Ignoring him, I closed the cockpit. Probably drunk out of his mind, I thought to myself. With slight annoyance, I noticed his piloting out of the docking pay to be better than one could pull off if they had had even one drink.

As I left the station after him, Aon contacted me. “Did you hear the message? The convoy’ll launch in five minutes!”

Excited, I told him no.

“Channel 201 will tell you about the Itani one, 202 for the Serco.”

I hit a few keys, and a couple minutes later heard the dull voice of a computer speak “Itani Convoy now leaving Bractus C5, Bractus Watch”

I spun my ship around, looking for the transport. I saw a cluster of thrusts leaving a docking port, and headed towards it. The convoy was a shiny blue, and larger than most ships. The guards around it were slightly smaller, tough looking bots. I noticed a couple armed with Gatling turrets, and another wielding a neutron blaster.

Suddenly, a crackling transmission came through the Itani channel.

“They’re here! Thousands of ‘em!” I can’t hold them off or get away! They’re all ove—“ the transmission died.

Aon’s voice came through now, slightly panicked. “That was a scout I left at the wormhole to Pelatus. Looks like we’re gonna have our hands full this time!”

“Itani Convoy leaving for Bractus wormhole to Pelatus”

Glancing down, I noticed to my surprise that I had reached the 3000m I needed for jumping, and I quickly set my course for the wormhole as hundreds of Itani left warp-trails next to me. I hit the jump button on a keyboard, and felt the familiar tug of jumping.

I expected to see a fleet of red ships approaching, only to be matched by the army of Itani. I expected it to be like a holo-video, where the attackers would line up against each other for the most visually pleasing fight possible. However, as my ship arrived, in the sector, I realized that holo-videos were not the most accurate source for information. No sooner had my ship entered than it was rocked by an explosion directly next to me, and then smashed up as some ship (though Itani or Serco I couldn’t tell) hit me from below. I started flying towards what appeared to be a clear spot, just to get oriented, when I saw Eldrad come in from a different angle, three red Vultures on his tail. He stopped, turning, and letting lose a few warning shots. When the Serco continued to swarm him, he began moving the bus in dodges I didn’t know it was capable of. With awe I watched him weave in between the faster ships, spinning around and blasting their exposed topsides. Within minutes the last of the three disappeared in an explosion.

“It’s a shame they all had to die,” he said to me, his voice calm but radiating with the same power he flew with. “I would’ve liked one to go back to tell the other Serco that he and his friends got beaten by a Combat License 3 in a bus!” I replied with a laugh, and turned to check on the convoy.

It was not looking good. Black marks from gunshots already covered the large ship, and the escorts were doing all they could to protect it. However, there just weren’t enough to hold off the attacking Serco. “Help with the convoy!” I cried to our group, and I saw Aon, Fing, and one other break off their duels to get towards the convoy. I targeted the third ship. I gasped as I saw that this “?” had nine combat licenses, more than I’d seen anyone here with. As he got closer to the convoy, and to me, I saw that he flew a Valkrye.

It was a beautiful ship, the rounded cockpit and two wings gleaming, despite the occasional burn mark from enemy fire.

Focusing my attention back on the convoy, I saw only two guards remaining, both getting swarmed by at least four Serco each. Eldrad’s voice buzzed into my ship, slightly worried now. “Q and I will try to save the escorts, the rest of you just stay close to the convoy.

Following his orders, Aon, Fing, and I began circling the convoy. No Serco seemed to be attacking it yet; they all were preoccupied by the Itani attacking them.

An explosion sent my ship spinning, ripping out a good portion of the hull. Horrified, I glanced down to see the remains of the convoy, twisted metal, bashing nearby ships. A shining blue container rested where the convoy had been, and suddenly every pilot in the sector turned their ship and starting turboing towards the cargo.

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Okay this was originally gonna be 5 pages (according to Microsoft Word) long and that ends the topic because I and a mystery person have somnething special planned, but I need a few permissions for the next part, so that'll come later and THEN end it. With the special mystery person and my's special mystery surprise.
Jul 03, 2005 Borb II link
Well hurry up and get your permissions!