Beta Squadron (composed of six Falcata-class bombers and 2 Scimitar-class Interceptors) was the last of the Outcast forces to exit Omicron Gamma. As the rest of the fleet fought while running, Beta 1, Alejandro Gomez, received an order directly from Willow. A little shocking diverting a wing to destroy a crippled Osiris when they still had an entire fleet on them, but you dont get to be wing leader by questioning orders.
OK ladies, listen up! We just got ordered back to destroy the Osiris thats wallowin in its own filth. Betas 7 and 8, keep those Titans off of us. Everyone else, load up your Super Novas and aim for the engine-section; their shields are already down.
Six Falcatas in a spearhead formation shrieked across Omicron Gamma, while the Scimitars flew to either side, prepared to engage the Titan squadron that was all but assured. There it was, 4 Titans broke off from the main engagement and followed, preparing to pull down the more cumbersome bombers. Beta 7 gave a ready single to Beta 8, and they both disengaged cruise and pulled a 180-degree spin, slamming the afterburners and launching their train cruise disruptors, bringing all four Titans out of cruise with two shots. Nimble, they weaved between the Titans and distracted them while the bombers finished their jobs.
On approach; warm up your Super Novas and fire at half distance.
At half the maximum range of a Super Nova, they fired as one, deadly projectiles streaking through space to contact with the unshielded power core. The result of the impact was magnificent. The initial explosions of the six torpedoes rippled through the fuel of the Osiris, causing a chain-reaction of explosions that carried throughout the ship. Within a minute, the only thing left was a rapidly expanding cloud of debris and vapors.
Good work, boys. Lets go home.
The bombers turned for the Omicron Theta jump hole, with the intent of catching up with the fleet. The two Scimitars broke off from the engagement with the Titans, and the Titans made no move to stop them. They had been losing.
The Fantasia and remaining retainers flew through Outcast space, proclaiming news of their victory. The Corsairs hadnt chased out of Gamma, and they had destroyed so many times their losses that there was no doubt in anybodys mind that it had been worth it. Sounds of the revelries on Palermo could be audibly heard over the communication frequencies, and even the Corsairs had all pulled out of Outcast space, news of the fleet barely pushed back making them feel like taking the day off.
Onboard the Fantasia, the attitude was much the same. Everything was put on hold except for the vital running of the ship. People were dancing, partying, getting drunk, getting laid. All because they had done it once again: gone to spit in Deaths eye, and lived to tell of it.
Zacarias Poncho stood there, leaning against the side of the Templar that had been his vehicle to safety. He had yet to get Carina out of the thing, as he wanted to transfer her straight from the Templar to the new Gunship he had called ahead for. Though it was odd, Carina seemed to like the Templar, as if shed like to stay in it. A little work and she could be in both, by means of a wireless networking of the two ships computers, of which she would be the network.
His thoughts were interrupted by Willow sauntering up, no signs of drunkenness. If Zac new Willow at all, he hadnt been drinking at all. When he got closer, his suspicions were confirmed no smell of alcohol rolled off him. Willow hates alcohol. He walked up and slapped Zac on the back a couple of times.
Well boy, thiss all for you, he said, gesturing with one hand to take in all the partying. Willow laughs and pulls out a couple of pills. Something the scientists on Corsica cooked up. You can drink 10 beers and it feels like youre still on your first. Here, give them a try.
Zacarias told him that Carina wanted the ship. Willow grimaced, but acquiesced. Not like we use em. I mean he was interrupted by a huge, automated crane moving down towards the Templar, lifting the Bretonian-made weaponry off of it. Another crane came in, bearing a Kraken II, which lowered and clamped on with a loud, metallic click.
What the hell is
Zacarias climbed into the cockpit so missed the rest of Willows low muttering, and he looked at the screen.
I took the liberty of sending in a request for some new guns. Looking over the list of guns 2 Kraken Is, 4 Kraken IIs, and an Inferno Zacarias smiled.
He climbed out of the ship and told Willow.
That computer of yours is more trouble than its worth, I swear
Leave over. Here, Zac started, plucking one of the pills out of Willows hand, let me try this out.
Zacarias was sitting behind a sturdy steel desk in a non-descript office off of Maltas main spaceport. He had a cylinder that was one foot in diameter and two feet in height; the middle half of the height was glass, while the half-foot above and below was opaque metal. Running criss-cross across the surface of the metal that was facing into the glass was a grid of lines. He had a plethora of tools spread out across the table, and had a screw driver in his hand, fiddling with a screw.
The door chimed, and he nearly jumped out of his chair. That damn thing sounded too much like the emergency power alarm that would alert him to a sudden build-up in the power grid, resulting in a very big explosion. Setting down the screw driver, he pressed a button on the right side of the desk that activated a monitor. Displayed was the scene directly outside the door. A man Alekzander Vasquez, a Capo in the Blue Lotus Syndicate stood outside, tapping a foot impatiently, mixed emotions playing across his face. He pressed the button next to the one that he had just used, which opened the door.
Alekzander, please, do come in, Zacarias said warmly, standing up and reaching over the desk to shake his hand.
Sir, I have some news that I think you should hear. He suddenly looked like hed rather be elsewhere, but leaned forward and whispered it out anyway.
The Grand Master just went missing from his house. Zacarias couldnt contain the gasp.
But thats not all. Just a week ago, he altered his will. If anything were to happen to him, youd be next in line to be the Grand Master.
Zacarias sat down hard, implications running through his head.
If he doesnt contact us in a week, Alekzander continued, stating the Syndicate code that Zacarias knew by heart, youd be named Grand Master.
The cylinder Zacarias had been working on stood on his now-uncluttered desk, a slight hum running through it. The desk and room had changed, to suit his new position. The week had come and gone, and then another one had been added out of hope. Now, Zacarias Poncho was the Grand Master of the Blue Lotus Syndicate. He had risen from the lowest rank, all the way to owning it. He sat back in his large, cushioned chair and smiled.
The cylinder filled with a green gas, which quickly coalesced into the form of Carinas body, the one she had had for the short time when she went to rescue him. He had made it for her as a birthday gift; it had been one year since that fateful time when he had first activated her. The image of her smiled at him.
Carina, get me Alekzander and Luciana Malvasi. He was very careful to say Luciana, as the Malvasi clan was a large one indeed.
Carina nodded, and inside five minutes, Alekzander and Luciana were standing before him.
Please, have a seat. Zacarias motioned to the two chairs that stood facing his desk. Alekzander sat to his left, Luciana to his right.
Ive called you here because this is a time of change for the Blue Lotus Syndicate, and I want people I can trust to help me lead it. Alekzander, youve been a loyal friend for a long time. For that, Im giving you the position of my right-hand man. Luciana, you have more than proven yourself, and for that, youre going to be my third-in-command. Now, we have work to do.
With that, he leaned forward, and they started planning the ruthless takeover of the Cardamine trade.