Tales of a Renegade

[JonasHudson]

Part II:
Eye of the Storm

Jonas was all geared up and well strapped in to the cockpit of his Havoc Mk 3 bomber. The craft was sitting in space, powered down to minimal output, and lingering like a feather floating around in still air. Like shiny black clovis, the craft shimmered among the great mass of ice chunks that littered the Tau-31 system. The black finish meant that the ship was easily noticable from afar, as a sleek black speck. The cockpit of his bomber is a custom job. These craft are huge, and capable of long range flights. Even in the cockpit, you can have a minifridge and some extra storage for personal effects, and most importantly, a thermus.

Always an impressive sight, the thick field of ice sprawled outwards for thousands of kilometers in either direction. Jonas was in position along the main trade lane that ran from the Holman junction to the Leeds jumpgate. There, he'd sit until something came up on his scanner. He'd power up, take out the lane, and make a spot inspection of anything trying to get across the embargo line.

New London had gone stagnant. The people there were becoming accustomed to life under constant siege. He'd decided to slip out of the capital and make for enemy territory again. The BAF had things contained for the time being, and were still highly engaged in New London, and now Omega-49. It seemed like there was little more he could do slugging it out on the front lines with the Armed Forces. He'd been out on a few recon patrols aside from that, to '49, the Omicrons, Zurich...It was time to keep moving and not get stuck bogged down in their encircled capital, as momentum had ground to a halt. Both sides were quite entrenched, and seemed the battle was drawing closer to a slatelment.

Therefore, he figured it best to go back to the usual. He'd slip behind enemy lines and go back to operating in the underworld. There always were things to be done further away from the heightened fleet presences in New London. Since the Gauls were foolish enough to re-establish the gate connection to New London, he'd noticed a considerable traffic increase. It seems, many out there already think the war's over, and have resumed traversing across Leeds to get across Sirius.

But it wasn't over yet, and Jonas was determined to get some diggs in. At the very least, he'd remind travellers that Bretonia was still in the fight, and that Leeds should be avoided by all non essential traffic.

He'd done this several times over the years. Lately though the Gauls seem to avoid patrols, and slip in and out via one of the other routes. And of course, there was always random traffic. Zoners, Freelancers, Kusarian shippers. Many just hoping to quietly slither through what had become a rather lawless zone between Gallia and the Bretonian war front. Hours long patrols go by. A few ships are reminded Bretonia still has men out in the field, even this far behind the lines.

Finally, an alert pinged on his console that he recognized from the sound, and he reached up to flick a switch that powered up the craft. Already positioned before the trade lane ring, he fired a small salvo of plasma blasts from his Neutralizer Bomb, and disabled the lane with an overload. Just then a transport fell out of the lane in front of him. Time to go to work he thought.

"Transport vessel, halt and hold your position. This is a spot inspection, and Bretonia Intelligence wants to have a look at your cargo..."

* * * *

Days pass. The fighting continues to rage along the fronts. Jonas's usual MO is to take in the news from the various back water bars out there that are friendly to his kind. This time it was Charost Depot. At this point there was still little way to tell how things would go. He had had some contigency plans in place, fall back plans. But they may not be enough.

All he could do for now is take in the action reports and mull over the numbers. Chatter among the agents of the SIS indicated everyone was working on their own projects, and the battle in New London had put a lot of pressure on command. He was disparate now to think up new options for them to keep up their efforts against the enemy.

Even more sour, was Omega-49. Jonas had thought about shifting his attention to Gran Canaria, but things exploded out there rather fast...and literally. Now, while we were fighting for our lives in New London, we get dragged into a quagmire in our back yard. At this point, Jonas was convinced it was time to stay out of the fighting, and begin shifting resources.

The 'project' he'd worked on in Leeds for almost a year was the ticket. If things did fold, he'd have a fallback position, and a destroyer in place deep in occupied territory, capable of shifting his operations to. From there, the question would be to stay and fight, or escape while it was still possible. There was little word from the Admiralty, the government or the agency at this point as to how long we have, or if we even still have a chance.

For now, it seemed like all Jonas really could do, is keep his fingers crossed as he sips his whiskey. If things went bad, the last option would always be, take the fight to the heart of the enemy. With a new connection from Rheinland to the Gallic Borderworld Zurich, there might be new angle to do just that...

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Leeds Resistance Forces | Tales of a Renegade |The Freelancer

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