Admiral Darkcloak
Banned
Chapter 1 - The Beginning
Latugara System - Love Orbital
3302 Present Day
[FONT=Roboto, Arial, Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif]"Death come to us all". The words echoed in his mind as he looked out over the bustling station cafe. He drank his beverage while scanning through the local GalNet news articles on the complimentary tablet. "Local CG on the verge of reaching Tier 6!" read one of the headlines. Chuckling to himself as He turned and observed the dock workers unloading the titanium from The Lady Jane's cargo hold. The Python was covered in Scorch marks and was missing bulkhead armor plating in various areas. Looking back at the tablet he swiped over to the repair menu. "Holy ! 330,000 credits in repairs! I defiantly need that reactive armor. The military armor was a good investment but he wanted the best. "But its not like I have 150 million credits buried on some distant moon; he thought. That will take some time to acquire.Prior to docking he had come under fire from a Dropship CMDR gone rogue. The Dropship had damaged his power distributor in the fight and he was out of shield cells from a previous Interdiction. The Dropship tore his hull down to 13% integrity but he managed to cripple it with a lucky Plasma accelerator shot, and made it to the starport with seconds to spare before the life support ran out. He looked back at the repairmen with the new plating and the arc welders crowded on his ship like ants. They started welding the new armor in place and the python didn't look so homely anymore. 2,500 tons, he sighed. Its worth it though. Thinking of the 7 million credits he would receive the following week, he left the table and ventured over to the railing, overlooking the docking bay. He remembered the stories of a travelling hunter in a old asp that traveled these parts back some 50 years ago. Once this "hunter" would accept a bounty contract he would relentlessly track the target down. Going days without food or sleep to keep a eye on the sensors. The Hunter was ruthless. Once finding his prey he would use Stealth tactics in combat that the Archon Delaine goons had no Idea how to implement. No single target ever survived. It was unique too. As he shredded the last bulkhead he would send this message: "Death comes to us all."" Now its your turn." No one ever knew his name either. Some say it was a spectre or some drunken merc's story. Some say It was true and the Old Hunter's asp was pure black. According to some sources he was spotted anywhere from Tollan to Khun. "Darkcloak" he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked back to the sleeping quarters. Rumors he chuckled. What are they going to say next? Thargoids have taken over the Empire? He arrived at the "Hotel",If you want to call it that. Welcome CMDR! The pleasant woman greeted him from behind the counter. How long will you be staying with us? Just till my ship is repaired; he Jerked his thumb in the direction of the docking bay. Very good sir. Here is your keycard. If you require any service please access the Hotel room service via your Tablet. He thanked the clerk and headed down a long corridor. Ah here we go! Room 109. He tapped the keycard and went in. The room was basic, not the quality of a Imperial or Federal facility but you cant expect much from an Independent merc power. He was glad he didn't have a metal shelf like at some outposts he had visited prior. He crashed on the bed, exhausted from the fight with the Dropship and the day in general. 2,500 g tons he thought as he dozed off. Who knows what tomorrow may bring? More credits? Answers to finding this "Darkcloak"? A bounty mission? Perhaps. But that's for another time. Right now sleep was the only thing on His mind.[/FONT]
(Thanks for reading. The story is in the beta right now as I am working on character development.)
Latugara System - Love Orbital
3302 Present Day
[FONT=Roboto, Arial, Verdana, Helvetica, sans-serif]"Death come to us all". The words echoed in his mind as he looked out over the bustling station cafe. He drank his beverage while scanning through the local GalNet news articles on the complimentary tablet. "Local CG on the verge of reaching Tier 6!" read one of the headlines. Chuckling to himself as He turned and observed the dock workers unloading the titanium from The Lady Jane's cargo hold. The Python was covered in Scorch marks and was missing bulkhead armor plating in various areas. Looking back at the tablet he swiped over to the repair menu. "Holy ! 330,000 credits in repairs! I defiantly need that reactive armor. The military armor was a good investment but he wanted the best. "But its not like I have 150 million credits buried on some distant moon; he thought. That will take some time to acquire.Prior to docking he had come under fire from a Dropship CMDR gone rogue. The Dropship had damaged his power distributor in the fight and he was out of shield cells from a previous Interdiction. The Dropship tore his hull down to 13% integrity but he managed to cripple it with a lucky Plasma accelerator shot, and made it to the starport with seconds to spare before the life support ran out. He looked back at the repairmen with the new plating and the arc welders crowded on his ship like ants. They started welding the new armor in place and the python didn't look so homely anymore. 2,500 tons, he sighed. Its worth it though. Thinking of the 7 million credits he would receive the following week, he left the table and ventured over to the railing, overlooking the docking bay. He remembered the stories of a travelling hunter in a old asp that traveled these parts back some 50 years ago. Once this "hunter" would accept a bounty contract he would relentlessly track the target down. Going days without food or sleep to keep a eye on the sensors. The Hunter was ruthless. Once finding his prey he would use Stealth tactics in combat that the Archon Delaine goons had no Idea how to implement. No single target ever survived. It was unique too. As he shredded the last bulkhead he would send this message: "Death comes to us all."" Now its your turn." No one ever knew his name either. Some say it was a spectre or some drunken merc's story. Some say It was true and the Old Hunter's asp was pure black. According to some sources he was spotted anywhere from Tollan to Khun. "Darkcloak" he muttered, shaking his head in disbelief as he walked back to the sleeping quarters. Rumors he chuckled. What are they going to say next? Thargoids have taken over the Empire? He arrived at the "Hotel",If you want to call it that. Welcome CMDR! The pleasant woman greeted him from behind the counter. How long will you be staying with us? Just till my ship is repaired; he Jerked his thumb in the direction of the docking bay. Very good sir. Here is your keycard. If you require any service please access the Hotel room service via your Tablet. He thanked the clerk and headed down a long corridor. Ah here we go! Room 109. He tapped the keycard and went in. The room was basic, not the quality of a Imperial or Federal facility but you cant expect much from an Independent merc power. He was glad he didn't have a metal shelf like at some outposts he had visited prior. He crashed on the bed, exhausted from the fight with the Dropship and the day in general. 2,500 g tons he thought as he dozed off. Who knows what tomorrow may bring? More credits? Answers to finding this "Darkcloak"? A bounty mission? Perhaps. But that's for another time. Right now sleep was the only thing on His mind.[/FONT]
(Thanks for reading. The story is in the beta right now as I am working on character development.)