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3/2/2016 5:10:19 AM
1
He froze. Imperial scum...
Heh. Of course. Why was he surprised? The odds of anyone else in the chaotic strings of this realm measured negligibly small... It was the way the odds worked here.
Karma. What a bitch.
A holographic screen popped up in the cockpit of the one man spherical craft, as he dialed back and responded.
[i][This is Unit Label "Cain" responding to Imperial Communications. I no longer possess Rank, Serialization, or Categorization of any sort other than my name. I wish to speak to whoever commands your vessel, and have no choice but to speak with who I am presented with.][/i]
English
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[spoiler]I apologize for my delay, time is precious here.[/spoiler] [i]I am the commander of this ship. what can I do you for, stranger.[/i] [b]He silently motions to one of his operatives to aim the main cannons at the pod, a means of a backup plan in-case the situation got hairy. [/b]
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.5 Meter Railguns at point blank range. A .00284% chance of survival without his powered shielding, at best. Absolutely lovely. Why couldn't he just face down a puny scavenging vessel and be done with it? [i][I formally request permission to board and refuel my fission capacitors. I also request shelter from those who would do me harm. In exchange, I issue a formal state of surrender, and am willing to release all forms of information on my person as a former Ambassador of the Ignus Race.][/i]
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[i]"Ignus race, eh."[/i] [b]*he looks at the operative, then back out*[/b] [i]"How about we send a ship out to you? Food, supplies, fuel."[/i]
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Damn bastard were being picky. So be it; he simply needed enough fuel to make it to a ship that's take his deal... [i][I require two 1-liter batteries of exotic matter— one for my own use, one for my pod's.][/i]
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[b]*With that last request. The captain took a second to think about what he was about to do. Finally coming to a decision, he nodded. A fate sealed.*[/b] [i]If it's batteries you need, it's batteries you'll get.[/i] [i]Fire.[/i] [b]*The frigate's main railgun cannons, locked on target, charge up. Moments away from blasting the pod from existence*[/b]
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No! He refused to allow it to end as such— to live for eons on end only to die as an outcast! Think— think— think—! [b]Yes.[/b] His pod shifted ever so slightly, his pod turning away from the cannons. If he could activate his boosters at the right time... [i][So be it! But this will not be the end, Imperial scum!][/i]
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[b]*The captain puts on a smug look*[/b] [i]Imperial scum? Ha. I laugh at your pitiful unintelligent mind.[/i] [b]*The main cannons fire*[/b] [i]You see, old sport. We're pirates. And we take what we want.[/i] [b]*Laughter fills the silenced comms, ever-so fading as the line was cut.[/b]
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As the laughter fades, the Captain is met with a shocking sight. The half-meter wide ballistic is seemingly frozen in time— or more accurately, slowing. A purple-blue neon wave of light begins to envelop the pig iron slug, and the pod begins moving as it seems to [i]absorb[/i] the round into the ship. [i][Underdeveloped— ha! Let's see them push off the kinetic energy of an electromagnetic gauss slug for fuel!][/i] As the metal round disappears completely, the pod rockets off into the abyss, the pod's fuel reading just a tad more plentiful as Cain searches for aid once more.
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[b]A chair is flung across the bridge[/b] [i]I want what's on that ship! Contact clients across the galaxy! Fridres, Gala, Brestine, all of them! I WANT ITS HEAD![/i]
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[spoiler]I'm rather excited about this— there are several things I've been wanting to do that could only be done if the Coalition had an Ignus defector.[/spoiler]
