Futuristic Iron Caskets: Oceania Naval Base

[Nachytsm]

Pardus Sector
Orbit of Pardus I, Oceania Naval Base

Located in orbit of Pardus I, Lowe-Pike's local naval base is a simple but well established construction. Armed with a number of long range missile silos, railgun batteries, and a significant garrison of Marines and Aerospace craft, it is state-of-the-art holding and generally the first stop for any ships passing into the area.

Despite its belonging to Lowe-Pike, visitors are often allowed for whatever purposes they might have, be they negotiation or trade. Mercenaries in particular are welcomed with open arms, due to the hostilities brewing and Lowe-Pike's relative lack of standing forces in the sector.

Several local-type warships and Traders' vessels float around the base, either in holding formations for shuttle docking or waiting for one of the few main docking platforms to become available. Some few are simply waiting for clearance to head to one of the inhabited regions of Pardus to ply their wares.

 

[RayPurchase]

The ship's light winked faintly against the darkness of space. Nothing but a pressurised hull standing between life and death for the men aboard. The ship was particularly large, and attached to it via clamps were an additional pair of ships, nestling against the larger vessel like children to a mother. The larger ship was property of SolCorp, a jump ship to be precise, with an engine capable of making the jumps necessary across the void, hence the attachment of the 2 smaller vessels, the sort of voyage the jump ship could accomplish would take decades with their engines. The two smaller ships detached and the jump ship fired its thrusters, turning from the system. The pair of ships had been dropped off safely and their contract had been fulfilled, time was money, and there was no sense in wasting it burning fuel where they weren’t needed.

The Shadow of Deimos
Cain near enough fell out of the pod. A mix of saliva and cryo fluid flushing out onto the floor. It never got any easier, the headaches, the temporary muscle weakness. It was a necessary evil, but not one that the human body enjoyed, all around him the rest of the crew were in a similar state. Grabbing a towel he wrapped it around his neck, making his way down the deck. Aside from the near skintight cryo suit the towel was the only modesty he had. There was little need for it though, both the Deinos and the Phobos were relatively small ships, light on personal space, every nook and cranny filled with men or equipment. Those who he went past managed to snap a reasonable salute, given their condition, which he returned. It would most likely be about 10 minutes before the side effects had dissipated, at which point everyone would be at their stations. A good time, and one he knew the company were well drilled in.

9 minutes later

Cain raised his wrist, the light catching the watch face as he took a seat in the command chair on the bridge. Already the Bridge was a hub of activity, stations manned and the tell tale vibration in the deck of the ship pushing towards their destination. A minute faster than allotted. A good jump. Clasped in his left hand was a flask of coffee, to combat both the dehydration and the lingering fogginess. On the screen in front of his was a plethora of information, crew and ship statuses of both the Shadow of Deimos and the Sabre of Phobos, captained by Captain Reynolds, a stalwart man who had served with Cain long before the forming of the Brigade. The two ships were flying alongside each other about 2 kilometres between the two, so quite close given the distance in space flight. Their destination was still not visible to the human eye, but was reading loud and clear on sensors, the Naval base and ships about it pinging on sensors. As if on cue a red light began winking next to the symbol of the station. The arrival of two battle ready frigates is normally enough to start an alarm bell ringing somewhere. Looks like the welcoming committee was ready for them.

“Open a radio frequency to the station, they’ll most likely be expecting our call,”

The communications offer gave back an affirmative response, and within a few moments there was an open channel.

“Oceania. This is Commander Cain of the Red Brigade, we are transmitting out relevant identification now. We can confirm we are not here on a contract or otherwise, and are here for resupply, repair and R&R. Permission to approach the station and begin docking procedures?”

 

[Nachytsm]

With the Oceania looming ahead of them on their approach, the response would take only a few moments to come back.
"This is LP-SB Oceania, Red Brigade, we have your ships on scope and registered." The woman's voice on the other end of the communications was crisp and concise, very official. "We have one available berth of size, and docking for smaller craft. The berth is yours for twelve hours, payment details will be sorted on arrival. Thank you for choosing Pardus Oceania for your service needs."

The Shadow of Deimos' sensors would show several small craft moving alongside both of the Red Brigade vessels, likely scanning for external markings, damage, and whatever other data stations usually liked to keep about their 'clients.' A virtual docking pattern would light up as well, showing where one of the two vessels would be able to connect to the station.

Another communication would come through shortly after, during the docking. The Communications officer would identify it as coming from the Station's Captain.

 

[RayPurchase]

Perfect. Neither ship was in need of hull repairs or any major works, equipment from the Phobos could be ferried to and from the station by shuttle whilst the Deimos docked. Phobos would maintain a holding pattern around the station.

“Adapt our course and bring us in to dock. I want the crew ready to go about receiving supplies by the time we finish docking. Shouldn’t take anymore than 4 hours, at which point they can take the following 6 off. Current timetable to depart is 12 hours after docking, any changes will be relayed by myself to the relevant officers,”

He pushed himself up from his seat, he had only made it a couple of steps before the communications officer chimed in again.

“Apologies Sir, another communication incoming. Appears to be from the station chief,”

Cain caught himself prior to exiting the bridge. This was above and beyond the usual reception. Already being solicited with a job offer perhaps...? They must be desperate if that was the case, they’d been in the system for less than an hour. The men knew it as well, they’d all served long enough to know that this kind of call wasn’t usual.

“Patch his through to my quarters, I’ll receive him there,”

He swung on his heel and off the bridge. His quarters were only a corridor away. Like he rest of the ship they were pretty spartan. Both the Phobos and the Deimos were built for combat and efficiency. Every room laid out for peak efficiency, and unnecessary decoration and ostentation stripped out, throughout most of the interior the skeletal hull was the closest thing to decoration. Cain's quarters were no different, though his position as Commander of the Red Brigade at least allowed him his own room, aside from the small bed on one corner, the room was mostly taken up with a singular large desk (above which was a large computer screen) and multiple filing cabinets. Too many gungho cowboys kept at the prospect of forming their own mercenary crew, thinking all you needed was a pair of mates and a couple of guns. In reality the devil was in the paperwork, writs, permits, proper paperwork and remits... that’s where contracts were won and lost.
Cain stood before the screen, his olive green flight suit still crisp, having only been broken out of storage. He pressed a winking button on the desk, and the screen flickered into life, bringing with it the station chief.

“Commander Cain of the Red Brigade, and to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”

His South African accent was thick and curt, a holdover of his father’s side who had emigrated to Mars, the last tie to humanities ancestral homeland.

 

[Nachytsm]

Cain's screen, upon activation, would soon show a middle aged woman with silvery hair and a fair complexion, her trim uniform and serious expression marking her as, likely, someone of authority.

"Commander Cain, good to speak with you. I am Captain Mara of the Oceania." Her accent might be placed as Terran European, though had clearly been coloured by Pardus. "I was informed of the arrival of mercenaries coming into the sector, and I would like to extend an offer of work. I recognize that this is not exactly protocol for most MRBC contracts, and so if you don't mind while you are aboard, I'd like to visit with you." Her lengthy offer is punctuated with a slight smile.

In the background of Mara's office Cain would be able to make out several terrariums and what looked like a fish tank, as well as other miscellaneous plants.

 

[RayPurchase]

Cain almost allowed himself a grin as Mara's message came through. Not even in the system for an hour, and already Lowe-Pike were trying to enter an agreement. The system had been properly researched before the Red Brigade had chosen it as the destination for refitting and refuelling. Lowe-Pike were nominally in control of the system. In reality however things were rather less clear, LP were primarily industrial and agricultural, unlike Sol Corps’ in house military wing, LP relied more so on mercs instead of a standing force. Admittedly it was less of a constant drain on resources, but when the shit really hit the fan Mercs were going to be in high demand, and any time delay could be critical.

“This is certainly outside of standard MRBC protocol Captain Mara. However it isn’t against the MRBC Charter, so I have no reason to refuse your offer. It should take me an hour after docking to finish co-ordinating my men, but after that I shall attend your offices,”

He gave a firm nod. The men would get their recovery either way. Their previous contract hadn’t exactly been difficult, strike breaking duty on some mining colony in the arse end of nowhere, little more than a footnote on the face of the galaxy. But by the Red Brigade's charter and contract, which he himself had drawn up, any subsequent contract taken up less than 4 days after the previous had expired required being put forward to the senior officers for approval. Prolonged cryo sleep still sapped your energy, and putting the men back on active service would have to be weighed against their current state and condition.

 

[Nachytsm]

"I'll clear my schedule," Mara replies coolly, flashing a more ingratiating smile. "And you'll find plenty of our service robots and staff at your disposal for anything you need within your docking window, courtesy of Lowe-Pike."

With that, her image follows just long enough to show her reaching to deactivate her viewport- curiously archaic technology by today's standards, an analog switch- and Cain is left to handle his docking and coordination duties.

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

A light blinked through the void. From that light, the shadow of a massive vessel made its way to the station. Technically, this ArCo vessel was needed elsewhere, but first, it had a small task to fulfill: dropping off a passenger. In just a few more moments of its lifeless drift, the vessel would enter range of communications. This, however, is when the vessel turned starboard, as if to broadside the station. The vessel was unarmed, save fore one small thing:

In 13 minutes of an interstellar RCS ballet, with the maneuver complete, the Frigate cut all thrust and waited.

Inside the ArCo Frigate "Sardine"

Alois had boarded the massive craft only a few days prior, but thanks to the advances in jump technology, a few days were apparently all it took to traverse the void and arrive at Pardus. It wasn't easy: it took a number of pulled strings by the commission, and even a couple of bribes on his end, just to get on the spacecraft. It took a number more to occupy one of their two launching bays, the only defense they had. Nevertheless, he had arrived, and was prepared to make his way to the Naval Base.

Having already brushed off the effect so of sub-light travel, Alois merely waited in the launching tube, his engines primed, fuel tanks filled, all systems functioning normally, for the all clear from the ship captain. The station was in sight: perhaps the tip he got was good after all. There were small fleets of vessels everywhere, and they weren't the same. The only difference Alois cared about was how much they were willing to pay to tear each other apart.

"Alright, you're clear. Good hunting."

With the clearance given, Alois started up the electromagnetic "slingshot" and waited. The signature hum of the magnets began, and just a moment later, Alois was being shot out of the tube at over 500 meters per second. Then, silence, and the eternal void. The engines lit up, and Alois began to cruise towards the station.

Nachytsm

(Sorry in advance if this post isn't great, just wanted to get something up while I had some free time, and so I can stay )

 

[Nachytsm]

A light in Alois' cockpit would flash to indicate a hail from the station. Once accepted, a man begins to speak in a slightly crackled audio.

"This is LP-SB Oceania to unidentified fighter, we have you on-scope. Please state your business, affiliation, and consider these offers."
The man's voice falls into the background as an automated voice talks about the virtues of various available docking bays and their services, though these are usually quiet enough- and intended to be- talked over.

A scout wing of light craft moves in to flank Alois' approach, trailing behind slowly as they try to keep up with the faster fighter.

BakaTheIdiot

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Alois reduced his thrust slightly, to be a bit more accommodating to the flanking escorts. He turned on his edge markers, adding a small light to the void, and dismissed the proximity warning. Next, he opened the comm channel:

"Roger, Oceania, this is Victor Niner 'Teal.' I'm Alois Winslow, Mercenary, and I've come for work. I come with gear for my job, and this here spacecraft. If you could not shoot me and clear me to land, that would be lovely."

As another gesture of neutrality, he rolled his ship side to side, almost like waving to the other ships, which he thought was a (hopefully) universal gesture.

Nachytsm

 

[Nachytsm]

The voice on the other end of the line sounds, almost, dismissive. "Another Freelancer? Well, we'll take all the help we can get. I'll patch you through to the escort craft, you're in their hands now. Thanks for choosing LP-Co." The man's voice, and the background ads, click off.

One of the escort craft returns Alois' stellar wave, rocking back and forth in near proximity- visible mostly due to the relative closeness of the star than running lights, but they helped too. A woman's voice this time pops into existence within the mercenary's cockpit.

"Freelancer Mercenary, I'm Lieutenant Crawford. I understand you're looking for a place to bunker in, so if you'll follow us I'll transmit a holo-route to you." The suggested route changes to...
Well. Not exactly a direct route. The holographic display in Alois' cockpit would look more like an obstacle course than a docking pattern, weaving between parked vessels and pathing between incoming and outgoing ships alike.

The lead scout craft starts to pick up speed and peels off to bypass Victor Niner into the route, if only just barely. "Seems like a quick rig you got there, so it shouldn't be a problem if you get there before me," Crawford continues, a challenge in her tone.

BakaTheIdiot

 

[RayPurchase]

As Cain emerged back onto the bridge, The Shadow of Deimos was just slipping inside the station's docking bay. With a lightness of touch,, surprisingly light given the none too slight nature of the ship, the helmsman pivoted the vessel, reversing thrusters and backed it into the designated bay. Several clamps sealed themselves onto the ship, locking her in place, whilst 2 umbilical cord like aperture snaked towards the vessel, the larger of the two latched onto the cargo bay doors, whilst the smaller of two made for the fuel pumps. As they locked into place Cain was already down in the Cargohold, it was a hive of activity, everything from empty ammunition and fuel cells to ration containers and equipment beyond repair was being piled up in containers, all under the watchful gaze of the quartermaster, making sure everything was tallied and accounted for, even the stuff being disposed of. Finally the cargo bay door opened, and with a yell of orders, the men kept into action, the crates being racked up and removed from the cargo deck. With the required supplies already specified a small fleet of cargo hauliers were making their way into the bay, the quartermaster switching their attention to these as the necessary paperwork and slot checks were made, making sure the supplies were up to standard. This swap over proceeded without any problems, and Cain simply watched from a gantry up on high, there being no need for him to step in with his officers in control. Within an hour their resupply was complete, their rations, ammunition and supplies back to 100% capacity. He leaned on the gantry, nodding at one of the Deck Officers.

“Commander on the deck,”

He yelled out, his voice breaking through the noise. As one all conversation immediately ceased, the men coming to attention with a swift salute towards Cain. This was no ragtag band of Mercenaries, living life in the fast lane and acting as little more than pirates. This was the Red Battalion. He returned their salute.

“Stand easy. A good job by all this morning, we are back at peak combat efficiency in near record time, and that is down to your hardwork and professionalism,”

He pulled up the sleeve of his flight suit, revealing the watch beneath.

“By my calculations the next 9 hours are your own before you will have to report back. The bonus from the previous job has already been paid over and is readily available on your accounts. Keep your communicators on, but for now, the next 9 hours are your own, get out there and unwind, that’s an order,”

There was a loud cheer in response as the men departed, woops of laughter echoing in the hold and down the docking tube. About a 1/10 of the crew would remain behind, guarding the ship and preparing to receive the last of the supplies, but they would be relieved shortly as well. He made his way back up to his quarters, just enough time to get changed and then a trip to see the station Captain.

Half an hour later

Cain emerged from the lift. He'd gotten changed out of the flight suit, whilst it was a hardy and comfortable thing, it was very much comfort over aesthetics. The combat jacket and trousers were grey digicam, his name embossed on the left breast, and on the right shoulder was the Red Brigade Emblem, a red orb orbited by too smaller black orbs, representing Mars and her 2 moons. As well as Cain, most of the crew were Martian, born and raised and many had spent a tour of duty there, most commonly against the raider gangs that operated out in the red wastes, a constant battle between them and the corporations whose mining settlements dotted the land. He strode forward towards the front desk, coming to a halt before it.

“Commander Cain for Captain Mara, she’ll be expecting me,”

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Alois said nothing, as there was nothing left to say at the moment. He simply waited to be patched. Once he was, he was greeted with a returned roll, and a patchy - this wasn't her fault, as his ship was a rather outdated piece of hardware - communication came through.

"Copy, receiving route now:"

Holy hell, what kind of a mess was this? The route was all over the place, and Alois put a little bit more power in the RCS: he would need it. He then addressed the challenging tone in Crawford's voice.

"You challenging a Viper Mark II to a race, Crawford?" He smirked. "This bucket of bolts might be old, but it's basically a racecraft outfitted with guns. See if you can keep up!"

With that, Alois punched his thrusters to attack speed, and rocketed forward towards the space station at almost twice the speed he was cruising at. Following the course, he ducked and weaved through the oncoming and outgoing ships, quickly approaching the docking gate.

Nachytsm

 

[Nachytsm]

RayPurchase

Oceania Command Deck
As a predominantly Navy base, the Oceania was not particularly extravagantly designed from an aesthetic standpoint. From the docking bays, Cain would have passed through several security checks and multiple passageways meant to make an assault a living hell, before even getting to a main thoroughfare. Once there it would be simpler to use an elevator to the Command deck, situated almost- but not quite- on the 'top' pole of one of the station's corners.

The reception desk was similarly designed as a defensible installation, but was currently manned by a young, bored looking man in a variation of the same uniform most of the rest of the LPCO regulars had. "Welcome, Sir. Commander Cain, Sir." He clears his throat and looks down to his PDA, then back up to Cain as he gestures down the corridor behind him. To his right, a security door slides open.

"The Captain will see you in her quarters, and says her door will be open."

Behind the desk the corridor was a bit more lavish. Not in goods or gold, but in life. Several terrariums, containing mostly plants line the walls. There may have been some small animals- snakes, rabbits, things that don't mind confined spaces too much. Strange on a space station, but perhaps especially so on a Navy base.

Captain Mara's office would indeed be open to the otherwise empty hallway, some ways down. Mara herself stands inside, a fit woman with a well-pressed uniform, her back to the doorway as she has both hands rooting about in what appears to be a flower bed.



BakaTheIdiot

Oceania Voidspace

Alois' path through the region would be swift, and met with little resistance. Lieutenant Crawford's craft falls behind almost immediately as he boosts himself to full speed, and the other two craft hadn't even joined the race.

In a few minutes Alois is on the final stretch towards the docking bay, when the holographics disappear. Suddenly a burst of 'tracer' fire replaces the guidance beacons as a new pair of scout fighters appears to be entering a mock engagement with him. Alois was likely not flying his craft in Training mode, but if it were, his alarms would be going off for the incoming shots.
At the same time, Crawford speaks up. "Looks like you can outpace anything we've got," she says, more-or-less impressed sounding. Clearly even Alois' outdated Viper II was faster, and likely better equipped than theirs.
"But let's see how your maneuvers are! Good luck, Freelancer."

Alois would be in no real danger, but the scout wing would have toggled their IFFs to neutral- letting his radar distinguish them from the rest of the noise in the surrounding area. All told, there were five. Two ahead of him, Crawford somewhere behind him in the 'course' she has likely abandoned as well by now, and her original two wingmates, who are coming slowly from below.

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Alois was approaching the home stretch with all due speed, and he was unsurprised at the fact he was essentially miles ahead of Crawford: although, judging by what happened next, it wasn't likely to stay that way.

The non-existent tracers flew right past his cockpit, and Alois, out of habit, swerved to avoid any other oncoming fire. "So that's how it is, huh? Alright then..." With a flick of a switch on his dash, his HUD changed and his weapons were "armed." He reduced speed, tallied bogies, and prepared to engage, but not before sending one last remark:

"Just try not to feel too sour when you lose tragically."

Alois immediately banked towards one of the forward fighters, unloading a salvo burst on the unsuspecting victim. Though no real harm would come to the pilot, the holographic bursts were pretty lifelike: one could be forgiven for thinking they were real.

Next, Alois turned his ship around, as to not crash into the fighter, and flew by the other frontal fighter. He was preparing to turn once again, which could only mean he was preparing to strafe the next fighter.

Nachytsm

 

[Nachytsm]

BakaTheIdiot

Alois is rewarded for his initial burst by telltale 'dings' representing multiple hits. In a normal engagement, that would have been a target destroyed- or at least disabled. The pilot of the forward fighter disengages, flying towards the station slowly.

The second one dives down the Z axis, looking to lure Alois into the crosshairs of the two approaching from below. Already a couple of precision bursts are flitting up towards him, either trying to prevent his maneuvering or score the kill.

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

Pardus Sector
Oceania Naval Base

The ISC Shrike cut a graceful figure as it sailed through the empty abyss of space. The almost 700m long hybrid battleship-carrier was at the end of its intersystem travel to the Pradus System in search of whatever client needed their services. Preferably security detail.

"LPCO controlled territory... Does it remind you of home, Captain?" Finance Officer Roza Larionova quietly asked, rousing Captain Havel from his daydreaming. Judging from the annoyed clicking from Roza, he was in for a mild scolding. Probably one about keeping focus, not that it mattered anyway. Quietly ignoring the beginning of her usual reprimand, he got up from the Captain's seat and approached the holomap display. The Radar Operator politely moved aside in case Havel wanted to access the navigation computers.

"Helmsman, bring us down to approach speed. Eric, get me a status report on the cryopods. The last batch should have been up 10 minutes ago. And someone get me a report on our aircraft and mechs, I wanted them all ready 5 minutes ago." Havel ordered, hoping this might quit Roza's nagging. He then went back to staring at the distant speck while the reverse thrusters slowed down the ship. What was an abnormally dim star about an hour ago was starting to take on the familiar shape of a planet. Designated Pardus 1, it wasn't the planet that was their main destination, it was the orbital spaceport of Oceania.

"All cryopods are powered down, Captain. All crew are awake and accounted for." Eric, the Ship's Head Electronics Technician called out. The screen at his station showing their crew strength to be at 100%. Glad that none of his crew are experiencing cryolag, Havel turned his attention towards the approaching planet.

"Steady as she goes, Helmsman." Havel reminded the Helmsman as another technician handed him a datapad. Skimming the data present, a small smirk formed. All planes and mechs are functioning and ready for immediate deployment.

"Captain, we're approaching radio communication range with Oceania base. Shall I ask for permission to dock?" The Communications Officer asked. Havel answered with a curt nod and returned his attention to the datapad.

"ISC Shrike to Oceania Naval Base. Requesting permission to dock, over."

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Alois quickly added more power to his engines and made for an evasive maneuver; he had been keeping an eye on his rear, and while there were no threats yet, he planned to keep it that way. He did an evasive loop, and took a couple of pot shots at the evading fighter, one of which "scraped" the wing. He recieved the trademark ding as a reward, but the fighter was likely still combat ready.

He began to trail the fighter, keeping an eye on the engine camera in the corner of his visor. If somebody were to strike now, he'd only have a short window to return fire, but that window was better than nothing. He had yet to receive any proximity warnings, but kept his ears open.

One down, four to go.

Nachytsm

 

[Petroshka]

The dark 500m silhouette of the ISS Ascalon drifted through space heading toward the pardus sector, inside however was a different story. As the last of the crew was coming out of their cryopods, the bridge was fully operational Captain Harkasis was monitoring the status of the crew while Sarcoline was reading over the Assistant Navigators shoulder. "it seems we've arrived to the Pardus sector Ma'am." Captain Harkasis spoke up, to which Sarcoline agreed, the communications officer intercepted a few transmissions and the station they were going towards was confirmed to be the Oceania naval base and not some random station. "it seems like the Gungnir boys made it fine too" the Captain commented with a smirk on his face. "good, a pair of familiar faces should make the sector easier to operate in." Sarcoline muttered to herself but loud enough for everyone to hear. "scanners dont show any hostiles or any specious activity. aside from some unusual maneuvering from near the naval base itself which seems like they're doing your average training course." The Assistant navigator informed the two.

With a nod Sarcoline gave her commands "Disengage stealth protocols, hail the naval base and inform them of who we are." Everyone looked at Captain Harkasis and he simply gave a shrug. "You heard what the boss said." and everyone started doing just as sarcoline said. She wasnt annoyed at the hesitation, after all he was the captain, and she supposed his judgement over naval matters was better than hers, for now at least. Just as the bridge started to get busy Raura entered. "The last of the crew are up, how are we looking?" she look around the bridge to see everyone working hard. Sarcoline walked up to her sister "We're here, and it doesnt look like there are any complications." With a smile Raura walked passed her sister and toward the comm officer, who was busy sending hails to the naval base. "perfect time for some music!" She got to the intercom console and started fiddling with it, and quickly the ship was filled with music.

Spoiler: Space oddity

Down by the hangers everyone was doing their routine maintenance on the ships, bobbing their heads to the tune of the song Raura put on. Ammunition caches and spare electronics were brought out from their respective storage holds, engineers after a rest from the cryopods started checking the dropships making sure they were in tip top shape. Pilots turning on the Chameleon plating which, attempted to mimic its surroundings, but within a hanger it was very obvious where the dropship was. Guns were oiled as well as the crew members mouths as they rattled off about how much they hated cryosleep or spouting information about their respective aircrafts. In the Barracks, guns were being disassembled and put back together to both be cleaned and maintained. The shooting range was alight with the sound and smell of gunfire. Chameleon patterned armor was being tested just like the aircraft, and so far everything seemed to work perfectly.

Nachytsm Wandering Grim Hollow Kokurai Gaisgeach

 

[Nachytsm]

BakaTheIdiot
Alois' descent, following the fleeing fighter, leads him right in the path of the two approaching from the local Z axis; streams of simulated cannon fire flash towards him in rapid succession from both of the craft, while Alois' target maneuvers to make a slow loop and open fire on him as well.

With all three craft firing at him, he'd be outgunned, but it was all they could do to keep him hemmed in and gunned down.


Wandering Grim Hollow , Petroshka

The newly arrived Mercenary cruisers would find similar replies coming to them from the station; "All berths are currently full. Docking bays for small craft are available, otherwise you will be added to the queue and towed into orbit."

The two vessels would also be offered access to station shuttles for ferrying troops and supplies, if they didn't want to waste the fuel of their own shuttles- for a nominal fee.

 

[RayPurchase]

Cain gave the young man little more than a cursory nod in response, stalking his way down the hallway, his artificial left leg clunking against the metal gantry.

Cain cast his eyes about the room. A fair bit more decorated than his own quarters. Clearly whoever had decorated the place had been pining to be back planet side, judging by the sheer amount of terrestrial life, both flora and fauna. He came to a halt behind the woman, raising his hand he cleared his throat, alerting her to his presence.

"Captain Mara I presume. I'd shake your hand but...."

He trailed off as he glanced at said hands,wrist deep in the dirt.

 

[Nachytsm]

RayPurchase

At the greeting from Cain, the woman who did indeed appear to be Captain Mara turns her head to look him over with a gentle smile. "Commander Cain! I'm glad you made it." She finishes her work in the flowerbed, apparently having been weeding, and dusts her hands off as she moves to a wide sink in one corner of the office.

"Don't tell me I've asked for the one Mercenary who's afraid of getting his hands a little dirty." Her teasing joke is paired with another smile and a quirked brow in Cain's direction as she finishes cleaning herself off, and then she's making her way over towards him.

 

[BakaTheIdiot]

Alois took quick note of the oncoming fire; it was starting to get tight. Even though he had superior craft, he was badly outnumbered: time for a vanishing act.

The "Vanishing Act" was a little trick he had picked up in his ventures, and it worked damn near every single time he tried it. Save for one time near the Vicha system, but he didn't bring up that time, because it doesn't count.

He boosted his engines to the maximum, and then did something unexpected: he cut his engines altogether. Using RCS, he rotated his ship into retrograde, took some potshots at the group, managing to strike one of the fighters, and then hit the acceleration, banking to the right, vanishing behind a rather large transport vessel in the nearby vicinity. IN just a few moments, the smaller craft was gone, completing an elliptical maneuver around the station, partially to spring a surprise attack on the unsuspecting fighters, but partially to get a better view of the station.

Nachytsm
(I am so, so sorry for the late reply. I got caught up in a crazy hiatus.)

 

[RayPurchase]

Cain allowed himself a small grin at Mara’s teasing joke, just the briefest upturn of the corner’s of his mouth.

“Fear not Captain, getting my hands dirty is something I’ve been told I do very well. And as the old saying goes if you’re good at something never do it for free. And living by that motto has kept me comfortable for some time now,”

With her hands scrubbed he offers her a hand. You can tell a lot about a man from his hands. In Cain’s case, whilst they may have been scrubbed and clean, they were rough and calloused, signs of a man who had not been afraid to work hard all his life.

“I take it that this is more than just the standard greeting that MRBC contractors receive, normally we get little more than a wave through and a few guns aimed our way for good measure. Not a lot of trust going around these days,”

 

[Petroshka]

Hailing the station once again. "We will have to deny your offer of shuttles, the Ascalon shall wait to be towed, any important business transactions shall have a shuttle from our cruiser dock in one of your bays. We trust this shall not cause any complications." After the hail, Raura went to go address her marines, while Sarcoline went onto the intercom to tell rest of the crew that it will take a while before the ship will dock with the naval base, and for everyone to continue what they're doing and relax. Sarcoline looked over to Captain Harkasis, "i'll leave the bridge to you, if anything comes up dont hesitate to contact me. I'll be in my quarters until we dock with the station." and with the captains nod she left for her quarters, getting ready to work on the paperwork that inevitability comes with the restocking of supplies.

Nachytsm Kokurai Gaisgeach