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"The noble duke of York,
He had ten thousand men,
He marched them up to the top of the hill..."
Space exploded.
In a remote sector hidden by nebulae, almost completely starless and completely planetless, the Salrilians could hardly be expected to be lying in wait for a UNS scouting party. Green pilots were never expected to fight without their eyes.
But here they were, waiting for their prey as usual. The deadly spider.
Caught.
"Captain?"
The ship hummed on, droning out Lieutenant Trian's voice.
"Captain?"
Louder this time. The Captain started, dropped out of half-sleep and into reality.
"Ah, yes? What is it this time, another freighter?"
"Unfortunately, no. But we might gather ourselves a few credits by bringing this to the UNS..."
"The UNS? I've told you before, we'll have nothing to do with them. Their worlds, their concerns. Our life. Here. They don't give a millo's worth about us, and we don't give one for them."
"We've found one of their patrols, or at least what's left of one."
"What?" For a second at least, Captain Mikoyev lost his calm and cool demeanor. "Er, what's left of one? Was there a battle? UNS technology isn't too high in the scheme of things, but whatever ships they managed to take out..."
"There are no other ships. As far as I can tell, it was a complete slaughter. But there aren't any of the plasma signatures that would indicate capships."
Mikoyev allowed himself a small smile. His plasma tracers had proved their worth again and again. "Then go ahead. Radio in to Solcom. But I'm not staying here another minute longer than I have to. Drag in one of the hull plates with an insignia; we'll meet them somewhere safe."
"A glass of wine, if you would, Captain?"
"No thanks. I don't drink."
"How interesting. You lie too. Now, what other things do you want to tell me that I should be suspicious of?"
"It's not up to the inferior beings to decide."
"A most interesting discussion, I must say. Now..." The Commodore's figure was even more imposing standing up. "I must go."
"Idiot," Mikoyev snapped back. "Dodging the bullet, that's what you're doing. Or you're trying. Just jump out of the way so it can take out what's standing behind you. Do you even know what's behind you? I sure don't, and I saw what was left back at V'tel.
When the Captain stood up, the UNS plate on his lap slid to the floor. It glinted in the light, and the UNS Ares logo blinded Commodore Smith temporarily, until he raised a hand to block the light's flow.
"I'll... look in to it. But if you're wrong..."
"I'm not wrong. Look however long you must, I'm not wrong."
"Then it's until next time?"
"It's goodbye"
[I don't know when (if?) I'll follow that up; I was just really bored…]
He had ten thousand men,
He marched them up to the top of the hill..."
Space exploded.
In a remote sector hidden by nebulae, almost completely starless and completely planetless, the Salrilians could hardly be expected to be lying in wait for a UNS scouting party. Green pilots were never expected to fight without their eyes.
But here they were, waiting for their prey as usual. The deadly spider.
Caught.
"Captain?"
The ship hummed on, droning out Lieutenant Trian's voice.
"Captain?"
Louder this time. The Captain started, dropped out of half-sleep and into reality.
"Ah, yes? What is it this time, another freighter?"
"Unfortunately, no. But we might gather ourselves a few credits by bringing this to the UNS..."
"The UNS? I've told you before, we'll have nothing to do with them. Their worlds, their concerns. Our life. Here. They don't give a millo's worth about us, and we don't give one for them."
"We've found one of their patrols, or at least what's left of one."
"What?" For a second at least, Captain Mikoyev lost his calm and cool demeanor. "Er, what's left of one? Was there a battle? UNS technology isn't too high in the scheme of things, but whatever ships they managed to take out..."
"There are no other ships. As far as I can tell, it was a complete slaughter. But there aren't any of the plasma signatures that would indicate capships."
Mikoyev allowed himself a small smile. His plasma tracers had proved their worth again and again. "Then go ahead. Radio in to Solcom. But I'm not staying here another minute longer than I have to. Drag in one of the hull plates with an insignia; we'll meet them somewhere safe."
"A glass of wine, if you would, Captain?"
"No thanks. I don't drink."
"How interesting. You lie too. Now, what other things do you want to tell me that I should be suspicious of?"
"It's not up to the inferior beings to decide."
"A most interesting discussion, I must say. Now..." The Commodore's figure was even more imposing standing up. "I must go."
"Idiot," Mikoyev snapped back. "Dodging the bullet, that's what you're doing. Or you're trying. Just jump out of the way so it can take out what's standing behind you. Do you even know what's behind you? I sure don't, and I saw what was left back at V'tel.
When the Captain stood up, the UNS plate on his lap slid to the floor. It glinted in the light, and the UNS Ares logo blinded Commodore Smith temporarily, until he raised a hand to block the light's flow.
"I'll... look in to it. But if you're wrong..."
"I'm not wrong. Look however long you must, I'm not wrong."
"Then it's until next time?"
"It's goodbye"
[I don't know when (if?) I'll follow that up; I was just really bored…]
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