[font=Fixedsys][color=#FFFFFF]Personal entry, #7
[font=Palatino Linotype][color=#FF0000]"La Senorita Cordova."
I sat there... on a half broken chair that was ready to collapse at any moment. I sat there, staring at the letter I had received from this mysterious man, but I was no mysterious man to him. How could that be? I pondered for a quick moment.
"I know who you are and what you were. We need to talk but not here, meet me in two days at Freeport 9.
- Signed C.R." I began reciting the words that were written on the letter.
"Freeport 9... C.R.. who the hell is C.R? For all I know it could be a trap set up by the Coalition. But what do I care, I have no reason to live anymore, if they want me dead so badly then perhaps I should provide them with their wish." And with that decision I rushed for the landing pad, mounted myself into the Roc and sat course straight for Omicron Theta, which meant I had to pass Omega-5, a dangerous warzone. Only this time, I would be engaged from both sides. My past had long ago made me an enemy of the Corsairs, and my present had made me an enemy of the Hessians.
As I arrived to the system, I was struck by dead silence. That kind of silence before the storm.
"Too quiet." I mumbled for myself. And my suspicions were confirmed, as I attempted initiating my cruise engines a Hessian strike-wing had assembled eight hundred meters away from me and they were charging in with full speed, no hesitation, no mercy. I was outnumbered one to five, these were no standard flight pilots. I could calculate their skill before the battle even had begun, these were sent specifically for me. I expected to go down rather swiftly, although I could put up a fight, I would sure as hell loose.
The first pilot, who was charging straight at me, felt a little too confident with the odds. A quick snipe-shot with the Mini Razor followed by a silent Supernova blasted the enemy vessel to bits before the Hessian Pilot could even reach gun-range.
I was now receiving critical damage from the collective gunfire from the four remaining pilots. Desperate situations call for desperate measures. I charged straight at a random target releasing a handful of Nuclear Mines along my path causing a huge chain of explosions. The fiery nova swallowed one of the Hessian Pilots into its heated depths, eroding his ship until every inch of the hull was crumbled into dust. I had in the process of this chaotic blast lost the left wing of my ship along with several guns. My core-engine was at status red and my fuel was leaking. The flight system half responsive and the remaining guns badly damaged. I was helpless like a beaten animal.
The three remaining Hessian Pilots had skillfully avoided the explosion and had now locked their weapons on my ship, which was standing completely still. Waiting for that final volley to end my torment. But as their Commander was about to order the execution, two incoming torpedoes hit from behind stopped his message... and his life. I could barely make out who was attacking those Hessians but the laughing which was heard over the comms spawned me a flashback. To that moment when I was in Cambridge talking to Sonja Kerensky. But it was not her, it couldn't be her. No, this laugh left a hint of joy, she was taking pleasure killing these men. Then it struck me like the crystal clear asteroids of the Siberian Ice Field,
"COMRADE CORDOVA!" I screamed with all the energy left in my body.
"Hahahaha, morirse tu hijos de putas!" Comrade Cordova shouted with a hysterical laugh as she shot down the remaining Hessians withing seconds.
"Comrade Cordova... how can I repay you?"
"Shush Senor, first we have to get you to Cadiz."
"Cadiz?! They will shoot me down the minute I set foot on that station!"
"Hah! Don't worry Senor."
She had this strong confidence in her tone, this aura of fear that enchanted her with power. No one would dare crossing her. It made me relieved over the idea of showing my presence in Corsair territory.
The ship gently landed on the docking pad, she was being considerate. Although she didn't realize it, I felt an immense gratitude over her act.
The hangar Officer insisted on "taking care of me" with an emergency team standing nearby but Comrade Cordova knew that if she let go of me, I would have been killed. Instead it was decided, thanks to her, that I would be mending my wounds at her personal apartment.
"They won't make a move near my presence." She said to me quietly and smiled. I tried recalling the battle, that very moment when I was about to be killed. Those last seconds, before Comrade Cordova arrived and saved my life. But the more I thought of it, the more tired my eyes got.
I fell asleep...