Inhaling sharply, I nodded, and set the navigator's chronometer for a 45 second countdown. As the analog numbers wound down, I brought the DropShip onto a course that would allow for an optimum 'over and under' pass of the Agammemnon."Time to target, Mister Hobson?"
A battered yellow taxi lurched to a stop just shy of the towering ferrocrete blast walls that cordoned off the DropShip Dauntless' landing area from the rest of the spaceport's grounds. In short order, several passengers disembarked - Charles Maxwell, James Norrington, and a tall, regal-looking young man bedecked in full Crayven dress uniform. As the trio approached, I nodded cordially - the ranks of the newest members of the
Everyone still here? Op I is underway.
April 14, 3067
The STARSHIP Cantina
New Foundation - Tau Ceti IV (New Earth)
_______________________________________
My senses reeled as I found myself in a dark, grimy bar with a cooking pit sunk in the middle. In the pit a large, unidentifiable animal had been spitted, and was slowly turning over a bank of lasers running at low power. Squinting at the lasers, I recognized, under the grease, the armament of a Mark
“Steiner PPC, please,” I nodded to the barkeep, who grunted at me before commencing the drink preparation. I glanced at the holoscreens over the bar, watching some poor fool in a Clint get his ass handed to him by an opponent in a Zeus. I pointed to the carnage, eliciting peals of laughter from an off-duty cop seated nearby. The free-for-all matches on Solaris VII were so entertaining.
A louder-than-usual sound of shattering p
April 14, 3067
The STARSHIP Cantina
New Foundation - Tau Ceti IV (New Earth)
_______________________________________
"Thanks, I'll be fine. I owe you one. What's your name?"
I grabbed a handful of napkins from a nearby dispenser, and handed them to the fellow, the device wailing a shrill
April 14, 3067
The STARSHIP Cantina
New Foundation - Tau Ceti IV (New Earth)
____________________________________________
A job. Everybody hates them, yet everybody wants one, but no one's got them to give.
In the aftermath of the FedCom civil war, the average Joe Citizen was about as likely to find a job as they were to have a JumpShip fly out of their ass. Smashed towns & cities, a
"I might have just screwed up," I murmered to Alex Thorn, who stood beside me with an impassive look on his face. "I don't know that we have the time to teach this guy everything he needs to know."
Thorn cast a disapproving gaze at me, steely eyes seeming to penetrate every layer of my being and sending a chill down my
Legionnaires' Compound
Outskirts of New Foundation
Tau Ceti IV (New Earth) - April 16, 3067
0500 Hours
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The grating, shrill buzz of my alarm clock slashed through the warm embrace of my peaceful slumber like a katana at a Kuritan meet & greet. An open-palmed slap, delivered by the most conscious part of my body, elicited the alarm clock's silence, as well a
Our 1,600-ton aerodyne military transport, an Aurora-class DropShip dubbed 'Thorin,' was old, malfunctioning, and probably should have been relegated to the boneyards of the Tetsuhara Proving Grounds to be used for target practice over a decade ago. But in spite of its shortcomings, the vessel still had its advantages. Along the vessel's considerable length were spread four modular cargo bays - two on each side - th
Two hours later...
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With a heavy lurch, the Thorin pushed away from the earth, its command deck listing noticibly as I attempted to manually maneuver the leviathan vessel from its berth. I instinctively took hold of one of the safety rails fitted to the helm's console, tightening my harness as I watched the altimeter displayed on the bridge's sweeping stat
As the first rays of the morning sun began to stream from below the horizon, a sliver of silver-grey lanced out from above the clouds. Rapidly increasing in size and velocity, its arrival heralded by twin sonic booms, the shape raced toward the treeline, eventually coming into form as a sleek aerodyne DropShip which screamed past just above the tops of the tropical overgrowth, tearing leaves and branches from their trunks in its wake, and
In the blink of an eye, Anvil Detachment was away, following closely on the heels of Hammer as their war machines exited Cargo Bays 1 and 3. That left Rogue Detachment still embarked in Cargo Bay 2, as well as a tank, a recovery vehicle, a flatbed, and a squad of Battle Armor still aboard. The nav indicator for our landing site was coming up quickly, and I was just starting to breathe easy, when the Thorin gave a
We killed you off? I seriously don't recall that. If you find the post, shoot me a link. I'd be interested in reading it!
