// This story thread documents the events leading up to the Colonial Remnant and Bretonian Armed Forces event.
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]The man poked his head round the corner. He snapped back into cover when he saw what was up ahead of him. He wiped the sweat from his eyes and for the third time in as many minutes he checked his pistol, the old style projectile gun was loaded and ready to fire. He checked his watch, twenty two minutes left. Twenty two minutes to get back to his ship before the Battleship Sterling was blown to space dust. Twenty two minutes to evade the Bretonians and make it to safety.
Twenty one minutes.
He took another look around the corner, and counted to ten. On ten he burst out of cover running silently on soft soled boots, behind the two Bretonian Soldiers guarding the corridor to the hanger bay. He fired four shots from his gun, all four finding their marks in the chests of the Bretonian guardsmen. With two thuds the bodies hit the floor and the man was moving again, crouching momentarily to take the ammunition and passkeys from the guards. Through the hanger door into one of the main hangers on the Battleship Sterling. Parked one side, in the shadow of a Bretonian destroyer was his stolen Crusader class fighter, the cockpit open, inviting him over.
Eighteen minutes
He crept in through the door and ducked down behind some H-fuel drums. Checked the clip in his gun and reloaded it, then placed it back in its thigh holster. He eased the ache in his legs out gently and stooped, taking a look over the barrels. No one around, he walked casually out into the open and breathed a sigh of relief.
Man that was way too close for comfort. He whispered to himself. [color=#33FFFF]Far too close
He strode over to the ship and was about to climb up the short ladder to the cockpit when all of a sudden from just behind him.
*CLICK!*
The unmistakable sound of a gun being cocked. He slow reached down toward his gun.
Ah no I don't think so. Put your hands up. The smug voice of a Bretonian officer Get down on your knees. Private, take his gun and search him for other weapons, especially explosives.
He put his hands on his head, fell to his knees and closed his eyes. A soldier took his pistol from its holster and backed off slighty just as he slowly turned the ring on his finger round a full circle. A second later a blinding flash erupted from his hand. Before even the first moans of pain escaped Bretonian lips he was moving. He scrambled up into the cockpit and hit the engines...
Nothing.
He cursed violently, looked around the cockpit for inspiration and decided on a last ditch plan.
This is the Patriot, I have been captured by Bretonian forces while on board the Battleship Sterling. Keep aware for further transmissions, I intend to..."
*SMACK!*
He fell into darkness, plummeting into the depths of unconsciousness. Timelessness. Then a bright light. Followed by a face full of water as his head was plunged under. At first he struggled, then allowed himself to relax, remembering his training. Rough hands pulled him upright and sat him in a chair. Bright white light hammering into his eyes.
A smug Bretonian voice penetrated the barrier of light; Well then, Mr Patriot as you are known. Firstly, your plan has failed. A short silence followed, the man presumably searching Patriots face for any reaction, the only reaction from the Agent was a slight narrowing of the eyes against the bright lights. The bomb in the reactor has been disabled and removed. So were the two backup charges in the weapons capacitor room. You are now our guest and will soon be moved to more... permanent quarters. However, before then we are going to find out just what the Colonial Republic has planned for us.
Patriot closed his eyes slowly and tried to remember the last few hours and how he had ended up in this mess.
<span style="font-family:Arial">
--==}{ Just a simple guy trying to make my way in the universe }{==--
[font=Franklin Gothic Medium]Agent P, Codenamed Patriot, of the Colonial Intelligence Service set his modified Nyx down in a discreet corner of the Tau 29 Freeports hanger bay. He climbed down the ladder and thanked the deck officer. Patriot threw a credit chip to the deck officer and said; Fill her up and cover her please. The zoner worker nodded and strolled off. Patriot stretched, looked around the hanger and headed for the walkway marked for the bar, he had an appointment to keep.
Strolling into the bar he took a look around, saw the man he was looking for in the corner and then headed for the bar. [color=#33FFFF]Yamaguchi Nova please mate, and a shot of Bret' Bitter. He watched as the drinks were poured, collected them and walked over to the table in the corner, checking out the others in the bar as he went. A couple of zoners, quietly drinking at the bar, a noisy group of Kusarians off shift on one side of the room and a freelancer of some kind standing to one side listening to the news. Nothing to be worried about.
He sat down opposite the man in the shadows and pushed on of the drinks towards him.
Good evening sir. I hope I'm not too late.
The man, one of the senior officers of the CIS, placed a small package on the table. Just in time P, here. In this is the information for your next assignment. I will not lie, this is a dangerous one.
I'm ready sir Patriot assured him I do not like danger but I will face it when necessary. He took the package and opened it. Inside were a set of launch keys for a fighter ship, some photos and another sheet of paper.
Good. Your mission is to take the Crusader fighter parked on this station to the Battleship Sterling in the Dundee system, in the hold of this fighter are the materials to make three bombs. One for the main reactor and two backup charges in the weapons capacitors. Once the charges are planted get free and make your way home. This is the start of something big Patriot, don't let me down. If you are captured we won't be able to get you out. Your Nyx will be waiting on Minato for you. He downed his drink, stood up, nodded once to Patriot and left.
Patriot sighed, took another sip of his drink before standing, grabbing the package and throwing some credit chips on the table. With one last glance around he strode out of the bar toward the Hanger.
<span style="font-family:Arial">
--==}{ Just a simple guy trying to make my way in the universe }{==--