Cry U 945
The Crimson Knight
https://www.rpnation.com/topic/294083-titanfall-blood-and-steel-characters/
The Militia Cruiser Lifeblood drifted through space in orbit over Serran, a tip-of-the-spear frontier world on the very edge of known space; nothing past this system had been charted as of yet.
"Captain, we've got FTL signatures slowing near our location, pulling into Serran's orbit!"
Captain Macallistair, a lean, wiry man that looked more suited to squeezing through small spaces than commanding a revolutionary cruiser replied with terse, quiet words, "Get me an ID on those ships, tactical. I needed to know yesterday!"
"Sir, we've already got it, they're uncloaked IMC forces, a lot of them, backed by other craft we can't identify." The officer at her station turned to fix the captain with a look, before stating, "They outnumber us three to one, sir."
"Damnit." Macallistair hissed under his breath, mind racing for their next course of action. "Communications, Our forces on the ground, have they come into contact with any of the local colonies yet?"
"We can't reach them, sir. The IMC are extending a jamming field over the entire planet, and they're deploying troops now. They'll be looking for major population centers to target, sir."
"Navigation! Pull us into Lagrange point with the moon, and get us settled in, make sure stealth is still up, then put us at minimum power output. Comms, get me a line back to base as soon as you can, get the technical corps on cracking the jammer. We've got men down there and we aren't leaving them."
Macallistair leaned on the railing lining the command dais, forehead scrunched in concentration.
Things had just gotten interesting.
The Militia Cruiser Lifeblood drifted through space in orbit over Serran, a tip-of-the-spear frontier world on the very edge of known space; nothing past this system had been charted as of yet.
"Captain, we've got FTL signatures slowing near our location, pulling into Serran's orbit!"
Captain Macallistair, a lean, wiry man that looked more suited to squeezing through small spaces than commanding a revolutionary cruiser replied with terse, quiet words, "Get me an ID on those ships, tactical. I needed to know yesterday!"
"Sir, we've already got it, they're uncloaked IMC forces, a lot of them, backed by other craft we can't identify." The officer at her station turned to fix the captain with a look, before stating, "They outnumber us three to one, sir."
"Damnit." Macallistair hissed under his breath, mind racing for their next course of action. "Communications, Our forces on the ground, have they come into contact with any of the local colonies yet?"
"We can't reach them, sir. The IMC are extending a jamming field over the entire planet, and they're deploying troops now. They'll be looking for major population centers to target, sir."
"Navigation! Pull us into Lagrange point with the moon, and get us settled in, make sure stealth is still up, then put us at minimum power output. Comms, get me a line back to base as soon as you can, get the technical corps on cracking the jammer. We've got men down there and we aren't leaving them."
Macallistair leaned on the railing lining the command dais, forehead scrunched in concentration.
Things had just gotten interesting.
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