Fan Fiction - Role Play - Story of a day in the life of Delta Squadron CMDR.
The crimson Fer-de-Lance was floating calmly amidst the large rocks. In the cockpit the pilot sat silently on his seat with his eyes closed until the ship’s AI alerted him – ship scan detected. Commander J-MK of the Delta Squadron glanced at his instruments and saw the silhouette of a Core Dynamics Eagle that was the source of the disturbance. Engaging his ship’s thrusters, he brought the heavy fighter about to face the Eagle whose pilot had apparently now realised his mistake and veered off nonchalantly probably hoping that he would be let go in peace. A false hope. The pirate, who the Eagle pilot undoubtedly was, had disturbed a hunter looking for prey.
As J brought his Fer-de-Lance about he gained a visual of the little ship – a second-hand decommissioned fighter from some decrepit system fleet no doubt. And a garishly painted one at that. Red and black with a skull-symbol which was apparently supposed to be scary – did that truly work on someone J wondered. He target-locked the Eagle and waited for his ship to finish the scan – the first things that flashed across his target screen was some stupid callsign and the Pilots’ Federation rank-designation of “mostly harmless” – this pirate was not a member of the Pilots’ Federation, very few star pilots were, but all were required to apply the PF for their pilot’s licence and thus all were within the PF ranking database. Next the information J had been waiting for appeared on the screen – WANTED and MISSION TARGET in bright red.
The Gliese 488.2 Brothers were scraping the bottom of the barrel – J had been hunting in Gliese the whole morning and had seen that the criminal organisation had been gutted by the Delta Squadron in their military campaign against them some time ago. Their fleet was in shambles and they had to resort to flying Sidewinders, Adders and Eagles with one or two Asp’s here and there. But at least up until now they had been flown by decent and experienced pilots. This one was probably just a kid who had hung around in the wrong company, probably thought that being a space pirate would be cool and exciting. For a split second J thought about letting this one go, but only for a split second. An unexperienced pirate of today would be a more experienced pirate of tomorrow. Poor decisions and life-conditions or not, this kid was a target and Commander J-MK had a contract to fulfil. He flipped his kill warrant scanner on, might as well see whether the kid had been stepping on the wrong side of the law anywhere else.
At this point the kid’s inexperience became evident – he made no move to boost away when the scan was initiated even though he had to realise that the Fer-de-Lance pilot him was a hunter. He still thought that flying calmly and nonchalantly would save him. It wouldn’t. With the scan ended J moved his ship on his standard attack-vector – up close and personal. This style sometimes caused some friction amongst his fellow commanders in the Delta Squadron – they were constantly complaining that he was crossing their firing lines and ramming into them. Commander Fatal Rabbit was amongst the more vocal of his critics, but J didn’t pay heed to his complains – Rabbit spent more time yammering on the comms than focusing on flying his ship. The number of Rabbit’s insurance claims alone would give even the Federation or the Empire a pause and probably cause a crash in their economy.
The little Eagle filled most of J’s field of vision when he finally opened fire – a bright red lance of light shot from beneath the FDL striking the little ship in the middle – the blue shimmering of shields under stress enveloped the Eagle and now the pirate tried evasive manoeuvres – too late. Within three seconds the shields had collapsed and now it was evident the kid was panicking, he pulled up – trying to get behind his assailant – but in vain. J toggled his flight assist off, engaged his vertical thrusters and outmanoeuvred the inexperienced pilot. The FDL’s multicannons began their whirl and after a second their metallic hack filled the cockpit. In another three seconds the garishly painted Eagle vanished in a ball of flame and debris. As J veered aside he glanced behind – no ejection pod. The kid hadn’t made it then.
This was another thing, Pilots’ Federation commanders were considered to be a valuable asset and the PF outfitted every Commander’s ship with a high-end automatic ejection system. Even in the event of ship destruction, the Commander was rarely lost –Fatal Rabbit was a living proof of this. Star pilots not in the PF had no such luxury and more often than not, their ship’s destruction meant the final curtain call for them. Well one less would-be-pirate in the galaxy then. And one less ejection pod for the S&R patrols to pick up. Marcus would appreciate that – Commander Mr-Marcus was the governor of Gliese 488.2, which Delta Squadron had wrested from the Gliese Brothers not long ago.
J still smiled at the memory of getting to write the gubernatorial writ for Marcus – he had specifically asked that he be allowed to do it. He had hoped that he would get to see the man’s face when he read it – it had to have been priceless. He remembered when Marcus had contacted him afterwards – he had been less than pleased and though he had not made much sense during that call, the phrases “imam no govrnr” and “ya lil’ prat” or “this one yer sick jokes?” had made it clear that Marcus had been in somewhat agitated state of mind at the time. That being said the man had taken surprisingly well to his new responsibilities and had accepted his lot. Marcus still hadn’t completely forgiven him though, J suspected, as every time a prison transport arrived from Gliese to Fanning, the ship was also carrying a message from Marcus to him which read, with slight variations: “Quit litterin’ mah space wi’ this trash ya lil’ !”
A message-notification flashed across the HUD of J’s ship signifying that that mostly harmless Eagle pilot had been kill number 48. This meant that J’s contract was completed and that it was time for him to go collect his 11 million credits for the job. As the skies around the mining operation looked clear anyway, J retracted his ship’s hardpoints, plot a course for Fanning Penal Colony and engaged his frameshift drive. Before jumping out, he sent a message to Gliese’s S&R Centre to come and collect the floaters. With a slight smile he added “Regards from J-MK to Mr-Marcus” just before his ship’s AI informed him that the FSD sequence was complete and Witch Space beckoned.
The crimson Fer-de-Lance was floating calmly amidst the large rocks. In the cockpit the pilot sat silently on his seat with his eyes closed until the ship’s AI alerted him – ship scan detected. Commander J-MK of the Delta Squadron glanced at his instruments and saw the silhouette of a Core Dynamics Eagle that was the source of the disturbance. Engaging his ship’s thrusters, he brought the heavy fighter about to face the Eagle whose pilot had apparently now realised his mistake and veered off nonchalantly probably hoping that he would be let go in peace. A false hope. The pirate, who the Eagle pilot undoubtedly was, had disturbed a hunter looking for prey.
As J brought his Fer-de-Lance about he gained a visual of the little ship – a second-hand decommissioned fighter from some decrepit system fleet no doubt. And a garishly painted one at that. Red and black with a skull-symbol which was apparently supposed to be scary – did that truly work on someone J wondered. He target-locked the Eagle and waited for his ship to finish the scan – the first things that flashed across his target screen was some stupid callsign and the Pilots’ Federation rank-designation of “mostly harmless” – this pirate was not a member of the Pilots’ Federation, very few star pilots were, but all were required to apply the PF for their pilot’s licence and thus all were within the PF ranking database. Next the information J had been waiting for appeared on the screen – WANTED and MISSION TARGET in bright red.
The Gliese 488.2 Brothers were scraping the bottom of the barrel – J had been hunting in Gliese the whole morning and had seen that the criminal organisation had been gutted by the Delta Squadron in their military campaign against them some time ago. Their fleet was in shambles and they had to resort to flying Sidewinders, Adders and Eagles with one or two Asp’s here and there. But at least up until now they had been flown by decent and experienced pilots. This one was probably just a kid who had hung around in the wrong company, probably thought that being a space pirate would be cool and exciting. For a split second J thought about letting this one go, but only for a split second. An unexperienced pirate of today would be a more experienced pirate of tomorrow. Poor decisions and life-conditions or not, this kid was a target and Commander J-MK had a contract to fulfil. He flipped his kill warrant scanner on, might as well see whether the kid had been stepping on the wrong side of the law anywhere else.
At this point the kid’s inexperience became evident – he made no move to boost away when the scan was initiated even though he had to realise that the Fer-de-Lance pilot him was a hunter. He still thought that flying calmly and nonchalantly would save him. It wouldn’t. With the scan ended J moved his ship on his standard attack-vector – up close and personal. This style sometimes caused some friction amongst his fellow commanders in the Delta Squadron – they were constantly complaining that he was crossing their firing lines and ramming into them. Commander Fatal Rabbit was amongst the more vocal of his critics, but J didn’t pay heed to his complains – Rabbit spent more time yammering on the comms than focusing on flying his ship. The number of Rabbit’s insurance claims alone would give even the Federation or the Empire a pause and probably cause a crash in their economy.
The little Eagle filled most of J’s field of vision when he finally opened fire – a bright red lance of light shot from beneath the FDL striking the little ship in the middle – the blue shimmering of shields under stress enveloped the Eagle and now the pirate tried evasive manoeuvres – too late. Within three seconds the shields had collapsed and now it was evident the kid was panicking, he pulled up – trying to get behind his assailant – but in vain. J toggled his flight assist off, engaged his vertical thrusters and outmanoeuvred the inexperienced pilot. The FDL’s multicannons began their whirl and after a second their metallic hack filled the cockpit. In another three seconds the garishly painted Eagle vanished in a ball of flame and debris. As J veered aside he glanced behind – no ejection pod. The kid hadn’t made it then.
This was another thing, Pilots’ Federation commanders were considered to be a valuable asset and the PF outfitted every Commander’s ship with a high-end automatic ejection system. Even in the event of ship destruction, the Commander was rarely lost –Fatal Rabbit was a living proof of this. Star pilots not in the PF had no such luxury and more often than not, their ship’s destruction meant the final curtain call for them. Well one less would-be-pirate in the galaxy then. And one less ejection pod for the S&R patrols to pick up. Marcus would appreciate that – Commander Mr-Marcus was the governor of Gliese 488.2, which Delta Squadron had wrested from the Gliese Brothers not long ago.
J still smiled at the memory of getting to write the gubernatorial writ for Marcus – he had specifically asked that he be allowed to do it. He had hoped that he would get to see the man’s face when he read it – it had to have been priceless. He remembered when Marcus had contacted him afterwards – he had been less than pleased and though he had not made much sense during that call, the phrases “imam no govrnr” and “ya lil’ prat” or “this one yer sick jokes?” had made it clear that Marcus had been in somewhat agitated state of mind at the time. That being said the man had taken surprisingly well to his new responsibilities and had accepted his lot. Marcus still hadn’t completely forgiven him though, J suspected, as every time a prison transport arrived from Gliese to Fanning, the ship was also carrying a message from Marcus to him which read, with slight variations: “Quit litterin’ mah space wi’ this trash ya lil’ !”
A message-notification flashed across the HUD of J’s ship signifying that that mostly harmless Eagle pilot had been kill number 48. This meant that J’s contract was completed and that it was time for him to go collect his 11 million credits for the job. As the skies around the mining operation looked clear anyway, J retracted his ship’s hardpoints, plot a course for Fanning Penal Colony and engaged his frameshift drive. Before jumping out, he sent a message to Gliese’s S&R Centre to come and collect the floaters. With a slight smile he added “Regards from J-MK to Mr-Marcus” just before his ship’s AI informed him that the FSD sequence was complete and Witch Space beckoned.
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