I haven't written many stories, so bear with me. Anyone who has flown with Senor Carlos Benitez for a long time will undoubtedly have heard many stories of his past. I'll attempt to tie together all the aspects of Carlos past that I've referred to in in-game roleplay, establish a chronology and explain how today's Carlos came to be.
Please note, PLAYERS' CHARACTERS referred to in this work of fiction have been mentioned in honour of their role in my experience on Disco. Particularly in earlier chapters set upto 25-30 years before the present day, characters referred to are those who in RP could be considered as "older" than other present-day characters. Therefore, don't be offended if you are not included.
Please note any negative aspects of characters referenced are purely for the benefit of the story. and are not meant to reflect the real personalities of the players mentioned. Any "bad guys" are fictional.
Carlos Jiminez, an engineer on Crete, is invited on a journey out into space. 794 A.S.
A shaft of orange light pierced the clouds of dust that swirled round the wasteland beyond the city. That shaft was followed by another, as the sunrise reached the space port.
The light shined through the alleyways of the city past closed stalls that would soon be selling hand-crafted luxuries, or basic food. The rays shined past posterized portraits of Crete's heroes pasted onto the walls of the legendary Council Chambers. The light shined through the choking darkness of the drydocks and fell through the window of a small stone-built villa.
Carlos Jiminez awoke. The sounds of ships landing in the dry dock outside echoed through the small room, and hastened his rising.
Carlos was 24, and had, for many years since his initiation in the Maldava cloud, worked for his father in the repair shop. Business had been hard for many months, with the opening of the new repair shops next to the landing pad. It seemed that people were willing to pay more for their repairs, just to avoid the inconvenience of a short flight to the other side of town.
Dressed and prepared, Carlos stepped out into the shop. It was a dusty room, the size of a small hangar, with a partial and retractable roof that facilitated landing and take-off.
Catching him off guard, static followed by a voice echoed through one of the speakers... "This is Heavy Fighter Pilot Enrico. Is the floor free for my Centurion?". Carlos replied through a microphone mounted on the wall, and hit the switch to retract the roof. It juddered, screeched, but eventually opened a gap large enough for a battered war-torn Centurion to descend. A hatch opened, and to Carlos' surprise, another man of his own age stepped out.
"Mr..." the pilot began. Carlos interrupted with his name. "Well senor, I need my ship repairing. The left wing needs re-aligning, and 2 aft fins need replacing. Also, the engine needs looking at". Carlos glanced at the battered ship. "May I ask what happened?" Carlos asked. "I'm sorry senor, you may not. Secret business". Carlos knew his place. Looking at this pilot filled Carlos with inspiration. He had always dreamed of being a pilot such as the one that stood before him, flying through space, defending and feeding the people, with his face printed on the side of the Council Chamber.
The pilot muttered "I'll leave you to it", and left the hangar, heading in the direction of a small but crowded bar afew streets away. The room stank of synthetic marijuana, and the noise made it difficult to think. The pilot looked around, and without ordering a drink, seated himself in a corner of the establishment, making himself comfortable and pulling out a video communications device from his pocket. He tapped a code into it, and set it down on the table in front of him. A figure appeared on the screen, and a voice spoke through the speakers. "Enrico. How did the mission go?". "As well as could be expected hermano" was the reply spoken into the microphone. "We lost a pilot, and my ship got pretty badly damaged, but all targets where eliminated". The figure on the screen spoke. "Excellente. I trust the pilot lost was not one of our own?" Over the background noise of the bar, Enrico re-assured his correspondent "no. It was some guild fly-boy. Once my ship is repaired, im going to take a food shipment to Sitia. I hear the people there are starving to death." The conversation ended with the figure on the receiver being called away to other business. The pilot closed the receiver, tucked it into his jacket pocket, and summoned a barmaid to fetch him a drink.
Carlos had been busy working on the pilot's ship for a couple of hours now. Re-aligning the left wing had been relatively straight-forward, and his father was busy installing a pair of new fins, but the engines that where now Carlos' focus of attention where not as straight forward. The fuel injection system was working, but the automatic temperature regulation system of the engine was beyond repair. Flying such a ship would risk frying all the internal circuitry, leaving the pilot dead in space.
When the pilot arrived back at the repair shop, Carlos explained the situation to him. "I don't currently have the cash for a new ship. Is there any way I can use this ship for say...1 more trip?". Carlos replied stating that it would be possible, if the engine temperatures were carefully monitored and controlled by manual injection of coolant.
"I'll need to take a mechanic with me", the pilot deduced. Carlos saw no other option. "I don't know any other mechanics really. Are you up to a short flight Mr. Jiminez?" Carlos couldn't believe his ears. A chance to get off this miserable rock even once would be worth the loss of hours at the shop. "We should be back in two days, tops" explained Enrico. Carlos finally made up his mind.
-------------------------To be Continued-------------------------
Carlos returns to space for the first time since his childhood
Carlos packed light. Enrico had assured Carlos that it would be a short journey, to a Freeport just beyond the system, but he was still apprehensive. The last time he had been out of Crete's atmosphere was some 8 years ago, when he had flown deep into the Maldava Cloud and escaped with little other than his life.
"The turret controls are over there" explained Enrico. This caught Carlos off-guard. "Will we need them?" he asked. "Possibly", Enrico's reply, did little to put Carlos at ease.
Carlos opened a panel in the floor of the rear of the ship, under which was a metal tube. He put his hand into his pocket, and pulled out a spark generator. Pointing it down the tube, he flicked a switch on the device. The ship juddered, and then came to life. The engines roared and the displays around the cockpit lit up.
"Rock on!" Enrico shouted.
The ship rose gently into the air, and Carlos looked out over the city below. He then looked up to see 2 huge connected rings, high and distance in the sky above. "Preparing to exit docking ring". Carlos watched through a window as the ship entered the tunnel inside one ring, the ship sailed through the opening in the atmosphere. "This docking ring was one of our greatest triumphs. It took us 100 years to steal enough parts from Ageria and DSE to construct it."
Momentary shuddering, and blue sparks as the ship passed through the containment field and entered open space.
Quite suddenly, the blazing orange sun was visible, on a backdrop of green and orange nebulae. "So where exactly are we headed?" asked Carlos. "Freeport 9. Its a Zoner Base in Omecron-Theta, neutral territory and a good place to pick up food rations".
Carlos had never left the system. His friends used to talk about Jump holes, how the g-forces made you feel you were being pulled apart. Some were terrified of them, others bragged that they rode them for kicks.
It wasnt long before the blazing orange sun was erased from the view screen and windows, as green gas surrounded the ship. "Welcome to the Maldava Cloud", joked Enrico. Carlos remembered this nebula...and how it had almost taken his life from him.
A synthetic female voice cracked out from the console. "Radiation Damage Detected". Carlos' worries where greatened. "Is this safe?" he asked. Enrico replied stating that "this ship can handle 10 bounty hunters at once. A bit or radiation is no concern".
'No Concern', Carlos was concerned about a great many things. The eerie green mist and dense asteroids barely missing the ship's hull did little to alleviate Carlos' concerns, as he began to question weather being a space-pilot was for him.
The female voice again. "Hostile Ships Detected". "Charging Weapons".
Carlos is reminded of the dangers of leaving the safety of Crete's atmosphere
"Soldato Enrico Benitez, this is BHG Gold 1. You are out-gunned and out-manned. Surrender now and we may spare your life. "
Carlos looked at Enrico. "What the hell is going on Enrico? 5 Hammerheads...we're screwed."
"Some very rich men in Bretonia want me dead, hermano. Nothing big. Man that turret".
Carlos didn't share Enrico's confidence. He sat down at the turret controls, and targeted the first ship.
Enrico pressed a button on the console, and spoke. The words "Hasta meurte!" rang through the speakers of each ship within scanner range, as the Centurion afterburned towards the first ship, launching a torpedo ahead of the ship and thrusting through the debris of what, less than a second ago, was a Bounty Hunters pride and joy.
Carlos locked onto another ship, wheeling round in his seat, maintaining the lock and firing with all his might at the next ship. "I got his shields down Enrico!" shouted Carlos while hammering his laserfire into the Hunter's hull. "Good! Switch to the next ship and get it's shields down. I got a plan".
Carlos did as instructed. Shields fell, and he switched to another target. Again and again the hunters' fell prey to Carlos' turret as all ships lost their last line of defence before their hulls.
Enrico initiated his plan. The Countermeasure dropper on the rear of the ship opened, and some 30 countermeasure buoys fell out of the ship. The same took place with the Centurion's mine dropper, as 30 Countermeasures and 30 Mines formed together.
"Right. Lets get out of here" said Enrico, as cruise engines engaged, and the ship hurtled further into the nebula.
A wingman's voice crackled through the intercom to the lead Hunter.
"Sir...the Centurion appears to have stopped dead. What are your orders?". A voice replied; "We gave him a chance. Fire at will".
The remaining 4 ships converged on the location, and fired all weapons. The first laser volley to impact the mass provided the energy to cause some 30 nuclear mines to detonate.
The shockwave sped past the fleeing Corsair fighter, carrying wings, engines and escape pods with it.
After half an hour or so, the ship reached the jump hole. "Are you ready for this, amigo?", Enrico asked.
Carlos looked sick already. The ship entered the event horizon. The sensation was difficult to describe. It was like being pulled apart, in every direction at once. Carlos looked through the window to see stars, nebulae, shooting past as blurs. The ship emerged in another nebula, much like the one they had left.
"Freeport 9 isn't far from here." Enrico assured him. "It'll be safe there".
The battered Centurion sped past asteroid after asteroid, eventually emerging from the nebula. A huge station was revealed on the view screen, suspended in orbit of a radiant yellow star.
"Freeport 9, this is Corsairs Sigma-4. We are inbound to purchase food from your base."
"Affermative Corsairs Sigma-4, docking clearance granted".
The Centurion approached the station, and chatter filled the comm channel. Another voice entered the mix. It spoke over the others....
"Enrico Benitez. We know what happened to Gold wing. Surrender yourself or you will be destroyed"
"Not this again", moaned Enrico. "Freeport, we need to dock immediately!". A cold reply came....
"Affirmative Corsairs Sigma-4. You will be cleared to proceed when docking bay is free".
"Enrico! I thought you said it was safe here!"
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Carlos experiences bewilderment, surrounded by alien people, and learns that Bounty Hunters aren't the worst people that can be found in the Edgeworlds.
Laserfire thundered off of the faltering shield of Enrico's Centurion.
A voice was heard through the ships' speakers.
"Bounty Hunter ships, this is Zoner Blue 1. The area surrounding this base is considered neutral territory. Break off your attack or we will be forced to open fire"
"Negative, Zoner. This Corsair is far too valuable."
Like ghosts from the fog, six Eagle-class fighters rose from behind the docking compartment.
"I'll give you an opportunity to re-think your response, hunter" the Zoner commanded.
"We'll be seeing you again very soon, Mr. Benitez" the Bounty Hunter responded, before his squadron engaged engines and vacated the area.
Freeport Nine was an odd place. Carlos felt intimidated by the busy atmosphere, the strangers all around. He was used to being surrounded by Corsairs; his blood kin, but here there were peoples from all corners of Sirius.
After they touched down, Enrico made straight for the commodity traders, and after a good half-hour of bartering and argument, secured a deal with one of the Zoners.
"Have them load the containers into my cargo hold" he ordered. "I'm taking my friend here for a drink".
Carlos felt increasingly uneasy as they made their way to the bar. It seemed that everywhere he looked, foreign eyes met his and scowled back at him. They stepped past a bald man in a black uniform. He had a number of facial implants, and carried a faint but unfamiliar smell. As they stepped past him, Carlos was aware of the man reaching for his side-arm.
"Amigo, there are worst filth than Bounty Hunters here. Try not to make eye-contact with anyone. Keep your head down." Enrico looked up and spoke. "Dave, I'm not happy about this. What the hell is an Outcast doing here?"
The barman looked offended, and replied "all are welcome at Freeport 9, friend. They're normally not seen around here because they never venture this far, but when they do, we provide them shelter. You know our laws Enrico. Can I get you a drink?"
"Two sidewinders." Enrico replied. It re-assured Carlos to know that even fearless Benitez pilots felt uncomfortable amongst these people.
The barman leaned towards Enrico, and lowered his voice. "He's here on a covert operation, out of Omicron Eta. He'll be moving on in two hours. He's flying a little Dagger, no match for a Corsair. I can help you set an ambush if you like, sir."
Enrico smiled and raised his eyebrow. "Not so neutral after all, eh?"
A gun rose into the air, in the pale hand of the man clad in black. "Aiding these Corsair filth barman? Clearly the Zoners wish to make an enemy of the Outcasts"
Six more guns rose, as individuals clad in Orange appeared as if from nowhere. Bang. A laser shot millimetres past Carlos' head. The outcast fell to the ground and dropped his weapon. Three more shots where herd, and his body vaporised. One of the Zoners touched his earpiece. "Control, this is security. Send a transmission to the Outcasts. Tell them their operative was caught in an airlock malfunction. Have his ship moved to storage."
Enrico and Carlos spent the night on Freeport 9, and rose early to return to their ship. They found a number of mechanics surrounding it.
"Job's a good'un." exclaimed one of the techs.
"What the hell is going on here!?" shouted Enrico, who was suprised with the response. "Repairs to your ship sir, on the house, by way of an apology for what happened in the bar. "
It seemed these Zoners where more generous than Carlos had realised.
The pair boarded the ship and looked out of the cockpit window. Propelled by it's hover-rig, a hi-tech outcast light fighter slowly trundled through the docking bay.
Enrico looked at Carlos. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"
Carlos takes command of an elite fighter, as Enrico brings home a rare and valuable find.
"Mr Jiminez, stay here and wait for my signal. Have the ship ready to launch the moment I tell you."
Carlos was taken aback. He'd been given command of Enrico's Centurion.
He peered out of the cockpit window, watching Enrico at work. He slid past a pair of Zoner engineers and crept up a mobile ladder. Enrico slid down a cable, landing on the cockpit of a civillian heavy fighter. He crept across the fuselage and leaped onto an adjacent freighter, before sliding down one of it's wings and gliding effortlessly into the cockpit of the Outcast fighter as it hovered past. He ducked out of sight, and pushed a button on his radio.
"Mr. Jiminez, now would be a good time to launch. Meet me at these co-ordinates in afew minutes."
Bewildered, Carlos did as he was told.
"This is Corsairs Elite Figher Sigma-4. Requesting clearance to depart." An affirmative reply came through the ship's intercom.
"Acknowledged, Sigma-4. Safe flying."
Carlos fired the engines, and steered the fighter out of the docking hatch. Opening the ship's HUD map, he laid a course to the co-ordinates Enrico had given him, and engaged cruise. The energy stored in the engine's capacitors built, until a jolt of accelerative force pulled the ship forward, before an impact to the rear of the ship knocked it back into impulse. A familliar voice crackled through the comm system.
"Enrico Benitez, we told you we'd be seeing you again".
In the rear view, Carlos could clearly see a Bounty Hunter hammerhead hurtling towards the now stationary ship.
With little time to think, Carlos twisted the control wheel, and engaged the afterburner. The hunter ship began laser fire, and slid past Enrico's fighter before turning, and unleashing another volley.
Carlos charged guns, and began aggressive manoeuvres. As the bounty hunter made yet another pass, Carlos unleashed the ship's dormant fury, and the superior Corsair weaponry tore viciously through the Hammerhead's shields. "Enemy shields depleted".
Carlos hit a button on the ship's console and had his shield batteries replaced, as he launched another volley of laserfire at the Hammerhead. The ship's hull was proving more difficult to break through. Carlos guessed that the hunter had purchased a hull armour that was negating much of his shots, so searched the dashboard for a button or gadget he might be able to use to negate the ship's defences.
His eyes rested on a large, red button to the left of the console. As the hunter ship made another pass, Carlos hit the button, and a large yellow projectile with a red trail rose out of the Centurion's fuselage and impacted the hunter's wing. Secondary explosions where triggered as the Hunter ship erupted into a ball of fire and debris.
Carlos beamed the escape pod.
The co-ordinates Enrico had given where devoid of activity. Carlos waited and waited for what seemed like hours, when suddenly a lone ship was detected approaching the area.
A sleek, dart shaped vessel hurtled toward Carlos' location, and stopped infront of his Centurion. Enrico's voice resounded through the intercom.
"Sorry about that Mr. Jiminez, it took a little longer to hot-wire this thing than I expected. Any trouble?"
"Yes, as a matter of fact. I had to fight off one of your Bounty Hunter friends. He's unconscious in the cargo hold."
Enrico chuckled. "Nice job, but we best get out of here. The Zoners where furious when I stole this Dagger from under their noses, and I don't want them finding out who took it; I've got a good reputation with them that I'd like to keep. Let's get going. Set a course for Planet Crete."
Carlos set a waypoint for the Gamma jumphole and engaged cruise, his friend's new Dagger in formation.
Carlos becomes aware of the true poverty through which his people suffer.
As they left the Maldava Cloud, Enrico broadcast a hail to the ships near the docking ring.
"This is Corsairs Sigma-3 to Crete defence patrol. We are inbound with a food shipment from Freeport 9, and some Outcast technology for our engineers to study".
A reply came swiftly.
"Affermative Sigma-3. This is Praetor Tavio Benitez on the Gunboat Talos. Nice job liberating that Dagger, Enrico. Please take the dagger to Myrtos Villa immediately so our technicians can take a look. We might be able to find weaknesses in their technology that we can exploit. "
Enrico adressed him vire the comm.
"Mr. Jiminez, this is where we part ways. I need to be debriefed by Benitez command, and I need to get this ship to our engineers asap. My Centurion is yours, as I'm due for an upgrade anyway. The cargo's full of food from Freeport 9. I'd like you to deliver it to these co-ordinates on the surface, then you're free to do what you like with your new ship. Thanks for all your help. "
Carlos couldn't believe his ears. He'd just been given an Elite Corsair Fighter! Carlos watched as Enrico's Dagger disappeared towards the planet's equator, and then entered the codes to enter the docking ring and Crete's atmosphere.
Carlos flew low across the barren plains of ash and molten rock that covered crete's surface. The co-ordinates Enrico had given him where afew hundred kilometres from the main space-port in the mountains, and, flying over the most desolate plains on the planet, Carlos became acutely aware that while his people where masters of an empire across the stars, they certainly where not masters of this barren landscape, controlling only afew small settlements bored into mountains and cliff-faces.
As his destination grew closer, the sight of smoke indicated the presence of a small settlement. Carlos set his new ship down at the edge of the village and opened the cockpit doors. He was immediately hit by sulphurous fumes that made it difficult to breathe. After considerable choking, he stepped out of the fighter and headed into the settlement.
What met his eyes horrified him; basic shelters constructed out of ashen mud, and the people...all where dangerously thin, and most looked too weak to even stand. He'd lived for most of his life in near-poverty, at the space port, and as a child had imagined that life could not be any worse. Sitia had proven him wrong.
He offloaded the food supplies, and hauled them to the centre of the town. The people where immensely grateful, the numerous tonnes of food able to sustain them for the coming months.
Satisfied by his good deed, Carlos boarded his new ship, and headed back to the spaceport, but something was different. No longer content to repair ships, Carlos felt inspired to take to the stars, secure food, supplies and wealth for the people, and work to banish the suffering that plagued the people of settlements like Sitia. Thus began Carlos Jiminez' career in organised piracy.
Carlos tells his father of his plans, and prepares to leave Crete.
Ash clouds rose, swirling about the hard earth as a battered Centurion hovered, and descended through a set of bulkheads down into an empty repair shop.
Carlos stepped out of his new ship, and looked around. "Dad?" he shouted.
From underneath a severed engine, sparks flew and Carlos' father slid out.
"You're back!" he shouted, leaping up to greet his son.
"Dad...we need to talk", Carlos answered nervously.
The old man and his son sat down on a workbench, and over the course of an hour, Carlos described his journey to Freeport 9, to Sitia settlement, and the adventures in-between.
Carlos' father cringed as Carlos described how he and Enrico had evaded death at the hands of Outcasts and Bounty Hunters by the skin of their teeth, and was shocked to hear that the Benitez pilot had given Carlos his old ship as a reward for his hard work.
Then, came the time for Carlos to drop his bombshell. With aprehension that had built within him over the past hour, Carlos told his father of his plan.
"Dad, I've got a ship. I've faced Outcasts and Bounty Hunters, and I've seen the suffering of people across this rock. I think I can make a difference."
His father sat back, silent.
"Dad, I want to go out and join the fight. I want to head to the edge of our territory and help defend the nation, and bring back food and supplies for the people."
Carlos couldn't believe he had found it within himself suggest such a thing to his father. Since he was a small boy, Carlos had begged his dad to let him become a pirate when he was older. His father had always reminded him of the dangers, and given him an unequivocal "no". His father's reply startled Carlos.
"I know son. It's in your blood, and there's no changing it. I tried to delay this moment as long as I could, but I knew one day you'd be drawn to space. All I ask is that you be safe, and let me fix that ship of yours before you go."
Carlos' father lead him over to the engine block he'd been repairing.
"This is for you son. I knew since the moment I laid eyes on that Benitez friend of yours, that your time had come. That's why I've been repairing this.."
Carlos' father pointed at the engine block.
"It's from an M9 Class Olympian Very Heavy Fighter. Big old ships. They don't use 'em any more since the M10 Titan was made. Still, this old engine is a big improvement from the laser-holed thing you've got right now. "
Carlos looked at the engine. It was by no means pretty, and whilst being rusty in places, it looked powerful.
"This beast was designed to pull along a ship twice the size of your Centurion, son. Having this'll make that ship of yours much faster."
Father and son grabbed tools, and began it's installation.
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Carlos says good-bye to his old life, and set's off on a journey that will take him to the edge of Corsair space.
Carlos entered his cockpit, and hit the ignition. A momentary shudder confirmed his fears; the new engine was kaput. Suddenly, it roared to life, ejecting flames from the rear of the vessel.
His father stepped over to the cockpit, and shouted up to Carlos.
"It's working son! I guess it's time to go!"
Carlos shouted down to his father.
"Where should I go, Dad?"
His father replied, suprising him with his knowledge about nearby systems.
"Head for the Gredos Cloud. If you see any ships, follow them and you should reach the Omega-41 hole. From there, head to the co-ordinates I've programmed into your nav-map. Follow the waypoints and you'll get to Cadiz. I used to work with a guy called Maniaco who I think still operates there. Contact him, and he should help you find some work. Got that? "
Carlos nodded.
"Come back safe and sound." shouted Carlos' father, as the engines fired again, and the upgraded Centurion rose out of the shop, and out to space.
Carlos reaches Cadiz, and finds himself in a wartorn battlefield.
Carlos' battered Centurion hurtled through a jumphole.
The journey had began well; he had found his way to Omega-41, but then things had taken a turn for the worse. A cold computerised voice had uttered the words "radiation damage detected" as Carlos felt his skin burn, and watched the integrity of his hull trickle away.
He'd lowered the radiation filter on his cockpit windows when suddenly he felt volleys of laserfire impact his hull.
Carlos kept in cruise, deployed countermeasures, and scanned his attacker. A Red Hessian in a Very Heavy Fighter. Carlos guessed that he wouldn't be a match for the Hessian, who might have had friends hiding behind an asteroid, so kept deploying countermeasures, and managed to escape.
As he exited the jumphole aperture, Carlos found himself surrounded by a dense field of ice/rock asteroids, but his vision was dominated by a huge asteroid ahead. Carlos engaged cruise, and approached the object.
Suddenly, he saw five damaged Corsair fighters- what looked like Titans emerge from the field and approach the structure. Carlos listened in on the comms.
"Cadiz! This is Maniaco of the Brotherhood. We are inbound with injured pilots and request all available fighters be mobilised ready for deployment into the warzone."
A reply came from what Carlos summised was a base inside the planetoid.
"Affermative Senor Maniaco. You are cleared for emergency docking."
The ships moved to an area near the lower hemisphere of the structure, and where swallowed by a docking bay that appeared ahead of them.
Carlos plucked up his courage, and spoke into his comm microphone.
"This is Corsair Carlos Jiminez, requesting permission to dock at Cadiz".
Carlos waited for afew long seconds.
"Senor Jiminez, please proceed to dock 2, but be advised, a Hessian strikeforce is inbound and your services may be required to help defend this base. "
..Not the clear reply Carlos had hoped for.
"Excuse me senor, I have not been here before. Could you direct me to dock 2?"
"We will turn on the docking lights for you, senor."
On the underside of the structure, a number of yellow lights appeared, and a docking hatch opened. Carlos manouvred his ship inside.
What met his eyes amazed him. It seemed his ancestors had hollowed out the entire asteroid, and inside it created a small city. Carlos saw the damaged fighters that had flown past him earlier, and set his Centurion down at the same platform. He saw the pilots clamber out of their ships, and rushed out of his own, to meet them.
"Im sorry senor, are you Senor Maniaco of the Brotherhood?" The man infront of him looked at least ten years younger than his father, but sported the scars of many battles.
"I am..." he replied. "Who are you? You look familiar..."
"I'm the son of Ricardo Jiminez, senor. He sent me here to seek you out." Carlos replied.
A weak smile spread across his face. "Ah, yes, I remember. Your father used to fix up my ship all the time, I met you when you where a boy. What brings you out here?"
Carlos nervously put together a reply; "I came here for work, senor."
"I see..." Maniaco replied "You're not content with spending your life cleaning grease out of freighter engines, so you came all the way out here to seek some real glory?"
Carlos hesitated. "Well, Carlos, you've come at a bad time. A squad of Hessian bombers is on it's way to destroy this base. I'm afraid your career as a Corsair may be short lived. We're getting every ship that can fight out into space, and I must go and board one of my other ships to go and assist..."
Carlos ceased the moment. "I can fight", he suggested.
"I think not, Mr. Carlos. You're dad clearly sent you here so he could have a friend looking out for your safety. Do yourself a favour and stay here, where it's safe."
He wouldn't have this. "I've beaten Hammerheads and Barracudas before now" Carlos interjected, defending his ability. Maniaco sniggered. "I'm sure you did" he replied sceptically as he left the hangar.
Carlos wouldn't have this. He wasn't going to stand idly by while the base was in danger. No. More than that, he wasn't prepared to let his combat ability be doubted. If this fight was too dangerous, what fight wouldn't be? He could imagine it...in a years time, still on Cadiz, polishing Maniaco's ships as he flew off on another mission. Would that be any better than life at the repair shop?
Carlos mind was made up. He was going to prove himself to Maniaco, now, rather than later. He resolved to prove what he and his Centurion where capable of.
The Battle of Cadiz Carlos proves his skill as Cadiz is laid to siege by the Red Hessians.
The bulkhead door rolled back and Carlos' ship slid out of the planetoid. He afterburned to position himself near the station, and looked in the direction of the other Corsair ships. What he saw shocked him.
Around 15 Corsair fighters, and at least 2 bombers sat, stationary, infront of the base. Carlos remained where he was.
The waiting was interrupted by a cold metalic voice from the console.
"Enemy ships detected".
Carlos looked at the scanner. 5 ships had appeared, listed on the scanner screen. The number grew to 8, then 12, then 16, and in a matter of seconds some 20 ships appeared on his scanners.
Carlos looked out of his cockpit window, and his blood went cold.
Escorted by a swarm of smaller ships, a spear-shaped capital ship had rolled into view. Chatter came across his comm.
"All forces, this is Squad Leader Pedro Maniaco. It is imperrative that we defend Cadiz at all costs".
As he spoke, the cruiser and it's swarm of support ships grew ever closer.
"Word has been sent to Leon and Crete, and they are attempting to send re-inforcements, but it unlikely they will arrive in time. It's up to us to hld them off as long as possible."
Carlos saw the engines of the Corsair fighters ahead engage.
"Alpha Wing, target the nearest Hessian fighter. Bombers, target the cruiser. Beta Wing, provide cover for the bombers."
Unsure of what orders applied to him, Carlos engaged his own engines and, heart racing, headed for the enemy ships. The Cruiser grew bigger and bigger, and suddenly the sky lit up with laserfire.
Carlos targeted the nearest of the enemy ships; a Hessian VHF, and began firing volley after volley of laserfire down it's engine. Meanwhile, in tight formation, Alpha wing lead by Maniaco hurtled toward a nearby fighter, all fire at it's cockpit, and the ship shattered into debris as the wing broke off and headed off in different directions.
"Next target" laughed Maniaco, as Carlos continued on with his own opponent.
The fighter hurtled past other titans on other targets, and Carlos persiewed it attempting to maintain his lock on the ship infront of him as it ducked and wove. It's shield fell.
Suddenly, the ship Carlos had targeted took a dive and plummeted towards the hessian Cruiser below. Carlos cut his thust, manouvred and followed, continuing to fire. Underneath his opponent, he could see the allied bombers lauching their torpedos at the behemoth below.
Then the battle took a turn for the worse. The grace period Carlos had enjoyed so far ended. His opponent began strafing and weaving so fast that his lock was lost, and from the positons where the fighter had just occupied, huge streams fire from the Cruiser began bombarding Carlos' shield. Carlos soared backward, hit the key to install new shield batteries, barrel rolled and left the range of the Cruiser's turrets once more. Then, another message from the cold voice of the on-board computer told Carlos that he was not out of the woods yet.
"Incoming Missile".
Behind him, four large projectiles soared towards Carlos' ship. Carlos launched countermeasures but they did little good. Carlos guessed that these anti-ship missiles had been launched from the Cruiser, and would be smarter than his Centurion was used to dealing with.
He hooked left, and then weaved through the crossfire between another 4 fighters that where battling.
The missiles continued to follow the ship, their white trails extending for miles behind his engines. Not only where these missiles closing in, they where advertising his whereabouts to every other ship in the area ready to close in and take the kill.
Below, he saw the Cruiser decelerate infront of Cadiz, and with a blinding show of lights, massive streams of lasers began bombarding the rock of the planetoid. A voice came across the intercomm.
"All ships. Cadiz is in trouble. Abandon your current targets and concerntrate all targets on the Cruiser".
Carlos pushed his control-pad forard and the battered Centurion plummeted toward the Cruiser.
He laid in a collision course for the left side of the ship, and thrusted forward. Below, he could see the remaining Corsair force firing volley after volley of laserfire at the Cruiser's shield with little effect, as it's own weapons bored into the side of Cadiz.
The ship grew closer, and Carlos prepared for the explosion to come. He tapped the red button on his control pad as many times as he could manage before the Cruiser's hull grew too close, and then at the last instant pulled back on the control pad, sending his ship up and over the Cruiser. He drifted on and looked behind.
The white missiles on his tail impacted the Cruiser's shield, and the following explosion was amplified by the presence of five of Carlos' own cannonballs. Interferance crackled through the comm system as the sky lit up with the explosion. The Cruiser's shield fell, and the secondary explosions caused by the cannonballs in turn blew a hole in the side of the Cruiser.
"Who the hell was that?" laughed Maniaco. Carlos stayed quiet.
"Some crazy fool in a Centurion, senor" came a reply.
A dull rumble came as Carlos' shield again absorbed fire, this time from a number of persiewing fighters. He turned again, and like the other Corsair ships began concerntrating all his laserfire on the side of the Cruiser where his missiles had broken a small hole in the hull.
Afew seconds passed, and another explosion blasted out of the side of the cruiser. Half of the ship's guns faltered and then stopped firing.
"We've taken out it's secondary powerplant! Good work amigos."
The Carlos turned to look at the base. The erosion of the side of the planetoid had slowed considerably.
"I think the station's hull will hold till re-inforcements arrive. Let's go back to working on the fighters. Bomber squad, keep up the good work".
The pilots heeded Maniaco's orders, and Carlos did so too.
He looked at his scanner screen, and found his original target. By the look of it, someone else had taken a chunk out of it's hull, or perhaps it had been hit by fire from the Cruiser when he was persiewing it. Either way, it was in bad shape.
Carlos hurtled towards it, and launched another volley of lasers. Caught off-guard, the ship's weak but slightly recharged shield fell once more, and Carlos' fire began falling once more upon it's hull.
The ship attempted to pull back, forcing Carlos infront, but Carlos saw it coming and tapped the red button twice. Two missiles impacted the stationary ship as Carlos soared past, and it errupted into a ball of fire and debris.
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