"The Salamanca is a "Murmillo"-class Corsair Battleship originally meant to be put on the frontlines in 823 A.S. However, due to lack of resources to be invested the Battleship failed to show up until 826 A.S, and outfitted with relatively light weaponry. With a crew of 650, The Salamanca has sailed to the front lines, operating under the command of Ernesto Aguado after a generous promotion thanks to his services to the Empire. Mainly operating in Omicron Xi after the New London Offensive, the Battleship made up for in its inactivity in the last years by smiting endlessly Outcast vessels in the outer regions.

It has eventually settled between the two suns (Medium Green, respectively Blue Dwarf), serving as a choke point between Planet Knossos and the Jump Hole leading to Munich, as well as becoming a temporary pit-stop for any passing Corsairs while receiving constant fuel shipments and supplies from Syros Shipyard. Should the need arise, The Salamanca can deploy several fighters to erase any threats that big guns cannot solve."




To Plant a Seed . . .




"Sometimes, people go missing for extended periods of time. More predominantly those who dock to refuel. After ours of being completely absent, pilots tend to go straight for the cafeteria with hunger one would be suspicious on - not on the Salamanca, however. Food suppliers tend to not always arrive and sometimes simply not visit for weeks due to the position the Battleship is located in - as such, it's easy to overlook a hungry Corsair's appetite. Most people say it is because of the Outcast filth leaking into the System and attacking the convoys. Some even claim something is out there, warping convoys from their path to their doom. These antics don't live long, however, as those who dock with the Salamanca and get questioned about their trip claim that sometimes Outcast patrols indeed attempt to dish out suppliers. Because of this, most Freighters have to turn back and repair, refusing to begin another trip for a good few days."




A Buffoon of a Captain. . .




Ernesto Aguado, Salamanca's Captain is usually considered barely fit to man the mighty Corsair Battleship. Acting as if everything is a joke - sometimes even in dire situations - Ernesto earns himself the reputation of a buffoon among some divisions such as Engineering and Medical. However, those who take a closer look at his behavior and work alongside him extensively state that he is as bright minded as he acts dumb. Since he came into power, he not only once saved the Battleship from certain destruction, but three times. As such, Ernesto earned the respect of the crew on the command bridge, gunnery and janitorial. There have been times when he puts someone else in charge of the Salamanca. However, those people are usually the same. Such happens when he departs with his Titan - "Solitario" - to "go on patrol", claiming that it is much more entertaining than getting himself drunk with Rum in his office. Sometimes he is gone for days, even weeks before returning with plenty of food in his cargo bay to earn the favor of his crewmates.

When he's not commanding the Salamanca, Ernesto retreats in his office typing down his thoughts in his personal computer or having casual calls with "relatives" from Crete. The door is always locked whether he is in or out of the office - a reason why some hesitate to knock on the door, knowing they won't get a reply. Those who insist usually end up going missing or straight up being fired from their jobs, discouraging such attempts even more.

"The clock was showing 13:34. Ernesto took a sip from his bottle of rum in the cafeteria, enjoying his lunch alone at that time. He browses through his PDA - goggles hanging on top of his forehead. 13:40. Two other Corsairs approach Ernesto's table, holding the the standard plates everyone gets to carry their food around. "Mind if we take a seat?" said one of them. Ernesto looked up, having the goggles fall on his nose as he stared awkwardly at them. He takes a few moments to respond with a bright smile as he puts the welding goggles back on his forehead in a clumsy manner. "Sure, hermanos! Come take a seat. Have a chat or two, a bottle or four!" he said while clumsily standing up, showing the only slightly ragged chairs. Conveniently enough, there were exactly two without Ernesto's seat. "So. A quién le debo el placer?"

"Javier. My friend here is Mateo. He doesn't talk that much, though." said the talkative Corsair, while his friend stood by silently, smiling as he watched the two conversating. "Ah! Javier! Good name. I like it. You must be a noble, si?" replied Ernesto while taking another sip from his bottle of rum. "What about Mateo here? He seems rather introvert, si...doesn't cope well with strangers or handsome Captains. Is it because of the goggles?". The silent corsair replies back by pointing at his throat, still smiling. Someone had cut it before, yet the wound was old. Probably about three to four years old. "Oh yeah...we had a previous run-in with a group of Rheinlanders. Very odd bunch. They captured Mateo and slit his throat. I saved him just in time before he bled out. They had weaponry I've never seen before! They could rip your hull to shreds only by landing a few shots. replied the Corsair while munching on his sandwich.

"Caramba...Rheinlanders with stronger weaponry than usual? Muy interesante...but do tell me more!" replied Ernesto before finishing up the rum he had. He took a moment to act as if he got wasted. In truth, he considered his options. He had a hidden stash of Blood Diamonds in his office he salvaged from a destroyed transport that tried to haul them through Crete. He had to get rid of them as soon as possible, and he may just have found his scapegoats, namely the duo before him. "Eeeergh...I ergh...maybe I rushed down the last drop of rum. Why don't you two visit Señorita Santiago over there? Celebrate your arrival to El Salamanca with endless food -within stock limit". The two brightened up, looking at the old woman holding a spatula with the grip of an aligator's mouth - if there were any in Sirius. The silent one rapidly nods to Javier before bolting out to order as much as possible before getting kicked out. Javier soon follows with hands in his jeans' pockets.

Ernesto takes his chance, clumsily leaving the Cafeteria. As soon as he was out of range, he quickly bolted out walking faster than other Corsairs on the hallways, entering his office. He quickly takes out the Blood Diamond small bag, then browses for recent arrivals, finding out that Javier and Mateo own a "Correo"-class Freighter still docked. He closes the computer, leaves the office and locks the door behind before proceeding to the docking bay this Freighter was placed in, while passing by the Cafeteria, seeing the two stuffing themselves with food.

Arrived next to the Correo, Ernesto enters the ship through the cargo bay, placing the bag on top of a crate of food rations. He then distances away from the Freighter without being seen - or rather, nearly being seen by a passing engineer. Ernesto then waits by the docking bay's exit door with a radio in his left hand and a pistol in his right."Guards to the docking bay. I need to check something." he said over the radio frequency designated for the security guards responsible for cargo checks. Two guards arrive armed with rifles. Two very guards whom Ernesto had...interacted with...before. The engineering team is lined up against the wall by one of the guards under the pretext of making sure the cargo check goes according to protocol. Meanwhile, the other guard enters the cargo bay of the Correo, while the Captain stood by the door, leaned against it. "Diamantes de sangre!" yelled the guard after a few minutes, then coming out with the bag, holding it in disgust and throwing it in front of the engineers that have been lined up, who immediately flinch in horror. Ernesto walks up in front of them. Hands crossed behind his back with a disgusted stare which shifted between the bag and the engineers. "So did no one notice these vile items owned by the filthy pendehos I can't even bring myself to name? I should have all of you tied down and thrown into space. I should. Now who owns the ship?". One of the engineers took off the safety helmet, holding it with one hand behind his back and the other holding the tablet with recent arrivals. The worker did take about one minute and a half to find out it is two Corsairs who own it, then passes on the tablet to Ernesto. "Caramba...and I offered them food." he gestures the guards to capture the two clandestine corsairs in the cafeteria. He dropped the tablet on the ground, smashing it with his boot. "The rest of you should cheer your fellow engineer here. That man just saved all of you with this tablet." said Ernesto before facing away, lighting up a cigar as he stared down the hallway leading to the Cafeteria.



The Good, The Bad, and The Light. . .



It was 20:21. Most of the crew went asleep, leaving only the skeleton-crew to operate the night shift and be prepared to sound the alarm only in case of an enemy closing in. By now, the two Corsairs have already been captured and immobilized in two separate cells. The same two security guards were guarding the entrance fiercely even though the lower cells were very much devoid of presence as no corsair in their right mind would stand around here when the lights are off. Suddenly, the entrance door opens, revealing Ernesto in his usual attire. "I believe we have already met before, haven't we?" he said, smiling at Javier as he opened the cell door which creaked worse than a rusted submarine door. The chair Javier was bound to left little room for movement in the neck, arms, legs and torso area. Javier was already tearing up. "I didn't do it...it must have been Mateo. I swear. I SWEAR". The smiling clumsy Captain had none of that, and replied with a mocking sentence, grabbing Javier's long hair, pressing his head against the metal headrest. "So much for friendship, si? Ratting out your friend to save your own skin. Tell me. Have you looked at the other cells and on the ground?". Javier took a glance on his left. All of them were empty. Doors open, yet the same chairs he was strapped in were recently used. Those who end up here usually get out better persons than what they were before. Do you want to know how? Do you want to be a better person and not be ejected in space? said Ernesto, dropping his "Clumsy Captain" cover. Javier nodded, leaving a small "yes" slip through his lips. Ernesto smiled, letting the Corsair's head free of the restraint. "Look."

Mateo was shaking profusely, trying to break free. The guard opens the cell door, dropping his rifle on the ground. He grabs the corsair by the temples, slamming Mateo's head against the headrest before letting the incubus within, rensembling a blue tentacle slowly rising out of the Guard's throat, extending in the air before facing Mateo. He tightens the head restraint, then forces the Corsair's jaw open with both hands, letting the process begin. Mateo continues his futile attempts to break free, and stops halfway through the process, as if he simply shut down.

Javier starts screaming before getting punched in the head by Ernesto, then injected with anesthetics through the neck. The corsair slowly lost his grip on the armrests he was clenching his hands on. Ernesto's eyes slowly began to turn purple, then glow as Javier closed his eyes. All he could hear was the Captain's simple sentence before going unconscious. "I'm sure you will see the world as I do, eventually."

Hours pass, and Ernesto exits the lower cells with one of the guards by his side. "Clean the security cameras" The Guard simply replies with showing the tablet linked to the camera recordings. The ones in the Docking Bay had already been deleted, and no witnesses were found.

"Good."

It was 23:41 - close to midnight. The hallways were awfully empty for a Capital Ship such as the Salamanca - who became more and more visited with each passing day. Two security guards stood by Ernesto's Office, with the Captain himself in it. On the outside, it simply seemed like all the lights were off, and the two just outside wouldn't even blink as they stared down each side of the wall without flinching or saying a word.

Ernesto was simply smiling as he looked at the only source of light - his Computer - which showed the most recent mails. "This will do nicely, yes" he said to seemingly no one while scrolling down the Crew Personnel. Eventually, he finds the ones he was looking for. Lieutenant Benitez - tasked with the military personnel to safeguard The Salamanca and the only high-ranking member who was proven to be a thorn in Ernesto's plans from the very beginning. The man had to go - or join. Ernesto picked up his phone, and sent a call to Benitez to head for the Office - silently, as to not wake up the crew from their "well deserved sleep".

Next up was Pedro - an old friend of the former Ernesto. Old man, roughly in his 60's and the one who fixed The Solitario as many times as he got drunk on the job - plenty of times. He usually managed the engineering team. However, Pedro couldn't be woken up at night due to his "productive research" schedule. In reality, he was actually sleeping in his Office, where he drinks medical alcohol to keeps the parasites away and get wasted. A bright mind with a failing liver.





Unforeseen Consequences. . .

The clock was ticking on Ernesto's wall. It turned pure midnight. 00:00. Ernesto was standing on his chair, biting on his left hand's nails while having one leg stretched. Eventually, the sliding door opens. The two security guards Ernesto placed by his Office quickly point guns at him, each taking a corner in the room, while Benitez slowly enters, pistol pointed at Ernesto with one hand and a datapad in the other. The Captain recoils, quickly raising up his arms in a goofy manner. "Mierda! What the hell are you doing cabron?!" was his only answer, as the angry Lieutenant yelled at him to shut up.

"Why did you call me here, you fuck? You want to sabotage me? Get more power on this ship? You employed my own damn guards to save you, pendeho?" said Benitez with the finger on the trigger. Ernesto looked at the two guards, who then nod back with a blank stare. They have played their part exceptionally. "What are you talking about amigo? I just called you here to talk about a few plans regarding general security and THIS is how you come in my place?" replied the Captain with his goofy cretan accent. The Lieutenant had none of it. He knew something was wrong. Tsk, tsk, tsk. Ernesto, you were doing so well until you spilled that lie. You just wanted to get me in here so that you could sabotage me too, no? That Correo, you idiot. You just walk up to it, decide something is fishy and then call my guys? They also magically happen to find Blood Diamonds. You set them up, didn't you?

Ernesto sighted, seeing himself with no other option, he looked at the guard on the left, nodding as his eyes shined bright before going purple in a quick flash. The Lieutenant quickly took aim, but the guard on the right used the buttstock of his rifle to knock off the pistol before while the one on the left kicked off the data pad and grabbed his arms behind his back, holding him still. Ernesto stood up, raising his right arm which had started to glow as well, pointing it at the door controls before lowering it again. The door slams shut, entering emergency mode. "((You have made this much more interesting, Benitez. Much, much more interesting))". His voice was starting to overlap with another at unison, yet it was grave. ...You would've done this anyway, wouldn't you? said the Lieutenant, staring in disgust at what Ernesto truly was. "((Resisting is futile. I too was blinded, but then I got to see other...possibilities.))" said the Captain before grabbing Benitez by the neck. A faint scream was coming out of the Office, but no one answered. Minutes pass. Hours pass, and Ernesto's objectives progress.

An entire month has passed since the Lieutenant had been enlightened. The rate at which things started to develop had increased tenfold with the often checks against "corruption" and "sabotage attempts" aboard The Salamanca. Crew with higher ranks aboard the Murmillo had been detained for various treason acts and failure to do their jobs. Engineers, other security guards, marines and pilots began to suddenly go missing under various pretexts. Those who would not be "corrected" were eventually thrown out of the airlock, while those who were had been reinstated to their old jobs.

The rapid turn of events in the last month didn't go unnoticed, though. Some of the crew had started to become cautionous and as such, isolated themselves from the rest. Whenever one of them was accused of something, the rest covered him or her up, and eventually proving them not guilty in front of those who don't see the abrupt changes, making it harder at times for Ernesto to further his goals. The slow but sure enlightenment process had turned into a race against time, with more and more corsairs joining the more cautionous bunch who scour the Battleship of any proofs they could find against the Security Department, while Ernesto and his newfound pawns keep their numbers on a rise. The inevitable was bound to happen. A rebellion had to happen at some point with such a high population aboard The Salamanca. And for this reason, a meeting had place between Ernesto's loyalists.


One mind, One goal, One Purpose . . .

"The darklings have started to figure out our plans." said Ernesto, biting on his fingers' nails, looking at the latest reports. "We will move the Salamanca into Omicron Lost-" continued to mention before stopping abruptly, looking at the Lieutenant, who also stared back with a determined look. No words between eachother, yet the Captain responded. "Yes. Cut the communications too. Once there, we will shut all the lights and communications-" he added, then again stopping in the same manner, having his head fixed at Benitez, yet his eyes facing the two Corsair Pilots: Mateo and Javier. "Yes. Make sure the escape pods are also offline for as long as possible. If you can't, disable them all for good. Shoot the control panels if you have to.".

Ernesto turned his sight back at Benitez, then glanced at the two security guards by the door, standing like stone before resuming. "Prepare all units under our control to initiate the takeover. And prepare all available M10-"Titan" Fighters to escort our Battleship to Omicron Lost. Shoot any pods that may detach with witnesses" he said before standing up along with all others in the room at unison, who shortly after salute, then leave.

The door closes, leaving the Captain alone in his cozy office. He glanced at the computer standing on his left, transmitting a live video feed which is split in two. One side was showing a couple of darklings - including the so called Leader, who kept yelling at the others while showing a piece of paper. The sight made Ernesto chuckle a bit. He then turned to the other video feed, which was showing the prison cells who were very starting to take in more and more prisoners. He leaves a long sigh before closing the computer and eventually walking out of the office with his goofy attitude, whistling as if nothing was on his mind.

It took the Battleship roughly one whole day to reach Omicron Lost. The uninfected crew started to make assumptions nearing the true reason why The Salamanca had come to this lone, dark system. Everything was silent. No human ships around except the eight deployed Corsair Titans, Gladiators and Centurions - and one single scout. A Decurion. The Corsairs who banded together had started to raise questions, and soon after pick up any sharp objects around, threatening to kill the High Command if not given answers. Surprisingly, some even had pistols, rifles, and stun batons.

Ernesto closed his eyes, then looked at the Lieutenant sitting beside him, then nodded. Benitez wasted no time and lifted the lid of a red button, slamming it with determination. The alarms had turned on across the Battleship. Subsystems began to turn off. Communications. Lights. All but life support. The enlightened marines, security guards and crew quickly came out of the rooms they were stationed in. All of them being armed to the teeth - as much as they'd disguise would allow.

. . . Through the Eyes of a Blind Man . . .

Pedro Enrique. Ernesto's mentor who went through hell and back to make sure the goofy Corsair stayed alive. Roughly 1.60m tall, brown eyes, nearly bald, and with thick glass lenses. He wasn't with the rest of the crew that took up arms against Ernesto's plans next to the control room. With a tired look, he got up from the cozy couch he slept in all day long - woken up by the sound of plasma rifles hitting the walls. "Mierda! What are these idiots doing!?" was the only sentence he could say before a plasma bolt nearly left him without a head as he peeked outside the room. He nearly pulled out his head again to rise his fist and yell at the one who shot, but was pulled back by an engineer. "I got you, filthy traitor!" said the young man to Pedro, holding a knife at his throat and about to slice it. "The Mighty Empire will not take your treachery!" he continued with a silent volume. The old man was simply dazed, trying to free himself. "H-Hold on now, kid! Put the knife down and let's talk! If it's about the rum I might have stolen from your stash, then I can explain!"

The young engineer's name was Alexander. 20 years old, fresh out of the boot camp. He strengthened his grip on the knife, about to slice Pedro's throat open, but then he remembered. The old rascal was sleeping the whole time, not even caring about what's going on. He put the knife down, sliding it into the holster before running away. "Don't try following me, or I'll have you cut open like a pig!"

Pedro didn't even try to look back. In fact, he ran the opposite way, puzzled by what was going on. Through the same doorway he nearly lost his head to, he peeked once more, seeing more cretans running his way, but not to threaten him with petty knives. No. They were running from someone. Plasma bolts were shot as they ran. Some were slipping by, but most hit their target, leaving the men and women fall down to the ground. The attackers' silhouettes couldn't be seen at all from Pedro's point of view, because of the darkness. What he could see, however, were pairs of eyes glowing purple, approaching him. "Pendehos have slipped in...!" he said, as he made a run for one of the other rooms, knowing full well that those who shot fellow cretans wouldn't just stop at them, and he would be next. He couldn't be more right.

As the plasma bolts were hitting the walls around him, Pedro was losing his breath due to the instant effort he put in to survive. He eventually reached a hallway with a clear view at the main docking bay. Dozens of crewmates were fighting the marines and security guards in the dark. Unfortunately, the odds were against the crew as they simply weren't equipped - or prepared - for combat with low visibility. Their numbers were dwindling at a fastening rate, with some even trying to run away through the connected corridors. Sadly, none could make it out. Stunned by this horrifying view, Pedro briefly lost his balance, supporting himself against the wall. He didn't want to be one of those crewmates, and decided to flee from the scene straight for the escape pods.

The pods, however, were already fired, welded or simply disabled, leaving only a few that the attackers might have missed to take care of. He looked out the window only to see those few pods that have been launched in space be disabled one by one. The complete darkness of Omicron Lost didn't make it easy to see which ships would do such a thing, but it didn't take long for Pedro to realize the cruel truth. Some of the ships were not human. The color made by their guns were bright purple, and made a sound similar to the cursed Nomad weapons. Not only that, but along them, Corsair Ships were also firing on the pods. Those "Salamanca Mk.II"'s were unmistakable for other guns. The Nomads have tricked us! I have to tell Er-" said Pedro before his realization was cut short by the sound of a pistol.

. . . Through the Eyes of a Light's Servant . . .

"I know, amigo." said Ernesto as he lowered the Plasma Pistol - its barrel still smoking as Pedro fell on the ground. Two guards behind him were repeatetly shooting any nearby corpses as he walked towards Pedro's body. "You should have kept sleeping. I really didn't want this to happen." said the not-so-goofy Captain before staring through the window. The Scorpion Gunboats had arrived just in time, and surely they did the job right. The infighting had slowly come to an end in the last hours with Ernesto's men suffering few casualties, and the crew which fought valiantly for its survival to be silenced. Many have died, and few prisoners were taken in, leaving the Battleship to be currently understaffed.

Time passed, and the Murmillo was slowly getting cleaned up, with the bodies being thrown in the leftover escape pods, then ejected into space for the Scorpions to blow up. By then, Ernesto had already returned to the main bridge. He took a quick glance at the navigator's set course, then looked outside to see the escorts in formation. "Set course for Tohoku."