He smacked the armrest of his chair with his fist. Adamo was frustrated. It was his sixth month aboard a gunboat, and he was still no closer to commanding a battleship. Earlier that month, the decision on his application to be transferred to a Legate had arrived. Denied. "To Adamo Locotes of the OPG" bla bla bla "your request for command of a Legate class dreadnought is hereby denied" bla bla bla "not enough experience commanding a capital ship" and so on in flowery Spanish which only enfuriated him more.
All around him, he saw captains with less experience than him become commanders of their own dreadnoughts simply because they were of wealthier or more powerful familias. Being an orphan after his grandfather died, Adamo Locotes had no such connections.
After the patrol, which proved uneventful, he got home, had a shower, and after downing a glass of whiskey, went straight to bed, skipping dinner. He expected the reply to his second application any day now. This time, he'd bribed a few people to try and make the process a bit smoother...
On the bedside table was an opened envelope. The second rejection letter. Holding a half empty bottle in one hand and a pistol in the other, Adamo stood at the balcony. He was never going to be granted a battleship. He weighed the pistol with his right hand, staring at it. The safety was off. Pointing the pistol's muzzle at his temple, he closed his eyes and got ready to end it all.
Screaming, he dropped the pistol. He couldn't bring himself to the pull the trigger. His grandfather had made sure to teach him, that he should die fighting. His last breath spent exerting himself against the enemy. It wasn't a difficult objective, the Corsairs had enemies aplenty. All the more reason he couldn't kill himself.
The reason Adamo Locotes wanted to command a battleship, a ship of the largest class, was that it was his abuelo's dying wish. Having flown Titan patols all his life, Adamo's grandfather knew the life of a fighter pilot. Patrols, no prestige, and all too often, being flanked by a Huegenot raid. On his death bed, the old man told Adamo, no matter what, he had to rise above his social status, and become a battleship commander, the first Locotes to have such a position.
Taking one last swig of the whiskey, he threw the bottle off the balcony, emptying a few drawers, he took some documents and left the house in a hurry. Adamo had an idea. He was feeling lucky.
Many stories exist about the next series of events. One of the more farfetched being that Locotes robbed the casino's vault on his own and escaped with the casino only realizing their misfortune the next morning, but one thing all versions of the stories have in common is that they all involve a drunk hero. However, by the time Adamo arrived at the casino, three hours away from his apartment, he was stone cold sober. Having sold all of his property, and exchanged them for credit cards, Adamo walked onto the casino floor...
He walked slowly but confidently towards the roulette tables. There were four of them. Flagging a pretty waitress for a drink, a soda, he stood and watched the first table. When he finished the drink, he moved onto the next table. After about half an hour of watching however, instead of moving to the next table, he moved to cashier station. After mumbling hola, he slid over a bag and asked for it to be exchanged into chips. 800,000 credits worth of chips. Quite a big sum of money, but instead of getting a large pile of chips, Adamo walked away with four chips. Each worth 200 big ones...
Walking back to the table he had just left, he asked the croupier to bet 800,000 on number 9. Raising an eyebrow the croupier asked Adamo to wait a moment and called for his superior. A floor manager promptly appeared. Apparently bets of this size had to go through this man. After some discussion, and Adamo confirming he wanted to go through with the bet, the croupier placed his four chips on number 9, and span the wheel. A short glance at the floor manager, and he span the white ball in the opposite direction.
By this time there was quite a crowd around the table, word had spread of the unknown man with a small fortune bet on a single number. A crowd looked in silence as the white ball span around the roulette wheel. Adamo's mind was racing. 35 to 1 payout, if the ball landed on 9, he would get 28 million credits in winnings. There being 37 numbers on the wheel, the odds were 37 to 1 against him winning. But he noticed a few 9s land during the short time he was watching, and he had bet 800,000 credits on that small piece of information. The ball came to a slow. It bounced a few times, then landed on 9. Suddenly the silence broke, most people gasped and whispered in disbelieve, the people who blamed the casino for their losses cried out in joy. A dissappointed nod from the floor manager later, the croupier called for more chips, and handed Adamo 28, one million credit chips.
The whole crowd fell silent once again when Adamo declared he wanted to bet again. All his money, again on number 9. The floor manager was stunned. If he lost the casino any more money, his carreer was over. 28 million was the biggest payout to be won in quite some time. On the other hand, he knew if he could get this man to lose his winnings he'd be able to keep his job. In a strange turn of events, the floor manager made a gamble, and agreed to allow the man to bet again. 28 million on number 9.
With 980 million, with an escort of polizia, Adamo ignored all the reporters who had gathered at the casino by now, hearing of the record breaking casino winning, pushing past them, he climbed into a police vehicle, and asked to be taken to the bank. There he had his winnings exchanged into Sirius credit cards, then took the next transport to Freeport 9.
Adamo was excited. Holding a small duffel bag of credit cards in his right arm, he walked out of the Freeport docking bay, followed by 2 armed Zoner guards, armed with large rifles, for his protection. The Zoner laws meant his own Corsairs had to relinquish their arms. Even Freeports were a dangerous place to be when you had that much money.
He was looking for the bartender, Cordova, who was rumoured to have once been a Corsair himself. Wasn't too difficult to find the barkeep, who was predictably, at the bar. Adamo sat on a barstool, ordered a whiskey, and started talking.
After hearing out Adamo's story, and taking a pensieve moment, Cordova got up. "I think I've got just the ship for you amigo, follow me." Telling another bartender to take his shift, he led Adamo and his entourage out of the bar, and through one of the station's many corridors. When they got to the fourth corridor, Cordova pointed out of a window. Adamo saw a strange flat white ship in the distance, close to the Freeport. "That there's a Battlestar, one of the first of it's kind the Zoners built." Adamo was interested, "Is she for sale?" "Aye, it is, her last Captain, a damn fool, took her into Omicron Iota, and the ship took quite a beating from all the blueskins, barely made it out. Since then she's been in Livadia Shipyard, taking on major repairs, but turns out the idiot couldn't pay the repair bill, so the shipyard boys impounded the ship. She's had a lot of hull plating taken off, probably only got an armour rating of 6 right now, though you could probably get that patched up to a 7 at Tripoli if ya wanted to. Anyway, since the previous Captain couldn't pay for her, she's yours if you've got the money."
"What's the ship's name?"
"The Neutrality."
Adamo smirked. "Sounds like just what I need. I'll take her."
Cordova went to make the necessary calls, leaving Adamo to look at the Battlestar.
The 'Neutrality'... his battleship. He couldn't wait to get on board.
"We're here."
The Neutrality had arrived at Crete orbit, skeleton crewed by 32 men who had come to the Freeport after hearing of the Neutrality's story, and barely in combat readiness. Adamo headed to the hangar bay to take a ship to Crete, but as he reached the CIC's door, the comms officer spoke "Senor, I'm picking up some radio chatter... patrols are reporting there's a large Bounty Hunter fleet headed to Crete!"
Adamo's heart beat quicker at those words. His first battle in the Neutrality. "Bring the ship about, let's christen the Neutrality with Hunter blood!" Two M26 gunboats and a Praefect approached from Tripoli Shipyard for the fight, and countless Titans and Praetorians swarmed out of Crete's docking ring.
"Hostiles on scanners Senor! One battleship, two destroyers plus support craft!" the radar operator reported. A familiar voice sounded on the loudspeakers, as a frequency opened up from the Crucifix, which had just come out of Crete. "Locotes, I'll take care of their fighters and destroyers, you take out the big one!" Adamo stuttered "Y..yes Senor!"
The Hunter fleet arrived, and the battle broke out, explosions and radio chatter raged, the gunboats and Praetorians attacked the destroyers, the Titans engaged the Mantas and bombers, and the Praefect provided covering fire where it was needed. The Neutrality opened up some of her guns at the fray, but her bow was pointed elsewhere. At the Hunter Battleship.
As the two giants neared each other, Adamo's heart raced. The Neutrality's armor was weaker, and he had barely outfitted the ship with what turrets the Zoners had at hand. The next few moments were a blur, Adamo remembered giving the order to fire, he didn't remember anything else. Four Praetorians threw a volley of antimatter at the Hunter ship, which downed it's shield instantly, battleship gunfire was traded for what seemed like an hour, but was really only three minutes. The guns of the Hunter ship stopped when the Praetorian wing swung round again for another strafe, which disabled the collosal ship. The rest of the fight was over, all the Hunters had been destroyed or routed. The specialist Praetorian pilots threw Nova torpedoes at the disabled battleship to tear it asunder.
The Neutrality only took minor hull damage to the bow.
An hour later, he had finally arrived on Crete. He got out of his ship, and was greeted with an enthusiastic, cheering crowd. Adamo raised his arms and laughed. Then, in the corner of his eye, he saw something coming at him. Gentle. WIth a whip. Adamo was so bewildered that he didn't start running until the third lash hit him across the chest. He'd never run so fast in his life.