Hum of the triple cluster of engines worked calmly on the pilot's psyche. He spent his entire life around these marvellous machines, first learning how to fix them… and once he was old enough, piloting them. Time has passed, ranks gained and despite achieving the very top, he still wanted to get his hands on controls of a space fighter. Good thing he had precedence of The Order’s founder himself, Casper Orillion who created a pattern of leaders being close to the action rather reclusive in a bunker deep underground of Akabat. He recalled some of the details, just to ensure he’s got it all.

...Admiral Golanski sat comfortably in the briefing room, in a chair dedicated normally to the wing commander. Looking at approximate visualisation of the Coronado system. Him and three other pilots were planning, commenting and judging how to best approach the situation. Exchanging each other’s experiences, they were drawing multiple orbital transits that would get them safely out of the system.

“The first wave reported Bretonian blockades operating all over this side of the Independent Worlds. We will use data gained to plot a course to evade being spotted in Coronado“ He drew the line, the orbit that on the in-system FTL engine would take them past dangers they had been trying to evade for the past few days. Bretonian destroyers - fast and deadly - easily capable of catching up and pinning any capital ship, Enterprise included. Gunboats belonging to the Liberty Navy have also been reported to scour Inverness for any potential ships trying to run the blockade.

“Jumpholes cannot be screened forever. There are not enough warships in-system, nor will the Outcasts and other scum let them camp it forever. We will launch on the next window of opportunity and approach Inverness jumphole. Once we confirm it is clear, we will transmit a signal through the FTL relay located there. The ping may be noticed on the public network, so we better not linger around and hit the gas."

“Our calling name will be Tau 1 though 4. I will take over number two’s spot as Lieutenant Duran is still in the medical. While I will have control over strategic considerations, tactical command over the wing itself will be in the hands of yours Number One. Just so there aren’t any misunderstandings once in space…”

Ping on the radar display got him out of the stupor. This was not the enemy, neutral or even allied target. Quick inspection revealed that they had crossed 15 klicks perimeter of a jumphole, and were closing the remaining distance fast. Officer Roka, occupying number 3 sounded off all clear as fighters decelerated to non relativistic speeds and fanged out for maximum efficiency, pinging vicinity with their powerful sensors actively for any sign of life. For the time being, all he could hear is yet again, the now subdued rumble of the engine now operating at impulse speed and his own breathing. No ambush materialised, not even a single freighter to witness them. War was good for business, until it wasn’t… and certainly there was little economic interest in this god forsaken corner of independent worlds… only death.

Calibrating the communications console, Michal sent a premade message via laser link to nearby comm buoy. In absence of jumpgates, which was the case for the majority of Sirius Sector, they had to rely on specialised devices able to tunnel information packages in a way to survive relatively undisturbed though hyperspace until it could be picked out by a paired device on the other side of the jumphole. For all intents and purposes it was lousy, especially the ones set up not by The Order but local pirate cartels… but it was necessary. Now we wait…

Liberty Dreadnought appeared out of nowhere. Ejected safely across lightyears, the hull of once proud defender of Liberty spurred its enormous engine, pulsed fusion drive accelerating this machine of war towards nominal flank speed. It was the Enterprise, currently in service to the failing Insurgency. Michal never felt any ties or even sliver of sympathy to their cause - he never was raised in the Houses, or lived there for long enough to understand it as well as they did. What he did respect was self-determination, and the iron will to survive that Captain Thach displayed by her daring attempt to escape doom at Veracruz. He knew it all too well, he fought on Toledo after all, buying as much time as possible as part of the rearguard. He called Enterprise on the comms. Time for talk would come later.

“Miss Thach. We have to move out... now. I am uploading coordinates right now.”