*Bridge of the Wake*
*Casablanca Airspace, Omega-47*
*Finn's brow creases in a scowl as he files this report*
Oy!
Me lad Murphy 'ere... *glares sideways*
'E tells me some rat what's named Shel is ta blame fer the bloody-well-near million cred repairbill to me Dropship...
An' Ruttin' A-town's repair bays r' takin me to th' cleaners, they is...Oi'll have ter see 'bout that....
Anyway, 'ere... *yanks Murphy into camera by the scruff of his flight jacket*
I'll let Murph tell ye.
*Murphy looks glumly at the screen*
Right...so... *scratches chin*
I'm out on patrol, aye. In Penn, aye? An' this comm comes o'er, sayin' "Pirate alert at Allentown".
So I's do wha' I should an burn ions gettin' there only ta see, sure as day, some rat-face Rogue, ship's tagged Shel, well 'es holdin up a Junker named Whisper. Demandin' creds from a Junker, not a click off th' Base.
So I radio Allentown an' they says they'da opened fire long ago but the rat's got hisself placed behind Whisper, all safe-like.
So I tell's the Rogue, I sez "Lissen ya rat, ya. Piratin' Junkers in Junker airspace isnae merely stupid, but it'll get ye kilt!" *grins evilly*
An' Oi flicks off me safeties an' gets to it, rippin his shield to shreds with a snac snipe.
I drops a few mines in his lap and burn off, to make for a missile run....
An' 'eres me mistake, them mines hits a docking Bounty Hunter patrol, the base itself, and some Rogues what were apparently flyin' in wing with this nutter, Shel.
So after all 'ell gets done breakin' loose, an' I've taken more shots than I'd like, I looks up fer this Whisper character, ta thank him fer helpin and to tell 'im to maybe get lost, as I might have to dock real fast...an sure enough, th' slippery weasel's already gone!
E' didnt even stick around ta say thanks even. Slimey ingrate!
So, aye, I did, in th' end, have ter dock with Atown, as me windscreen were cracked an freezin o'er.
I've no idea wha' happened to this Shel vessel, 'cept tha' Atown's gunnery squad says they fired till e' were out o' sight...
Oh, ah, 'eres a guncam shot showin' me hurtin' hull an' th' name o' me nemesis, clear s' day.
Sorry fer th' quality, the rest o th' images are currupted says the guy at th' dockyard. *smirks*
Oi'll bet fer a fifty-cred he could fix i.... *Murphy is yanked roughly out of his chair by Finn's caloused hand*
*Finnegan sits*
Right. Bleedin' embarassin....
Why I hire bloody ex-Molly pilots is beyond me!
Anyway, lads...I want this rat. *Finn glares*
I want him in chains, on me bridge inside of a week! Shel, e' owes me a million creds, 'e does.
But I'll pay another ten mil ta see th' sod bawl fer 'is life.
Wake out.
*crackle pop*
.:j:.
Congressman Tim Finnegan
Coileach an Taobh Tuath