Jackson had not a chance to see what happened next in the split-second his sensors were overloaded from the SNAC impact on the Train. The retros fired on the other side in blasts of uncharacteristic blackish smoke, bringing the ponderous bulk of the train swiftly around with uncanny speed... the fighter blasted straight into the rear of the train, instantly exploding in the impact. The energy and flaming scrap metal dissipated against the train's inexorable hull within a few seconds, flowing off of the turning mass like drops of water. A few bits of the fighter's wing remained lodged in the dented, burnt, and loose armour panels that they had hit.
Cadmus glanced up from the console he was standing at, fingers a flurry of motion. "Did we just hit something?" he asked aloud as he looked around. "That wasn't another SNAC." He glanced at the recent neural net logs - the bomber had just exploded. Cadmus gave a little chuckle as he looked back down at the control panels, inwardly feeling a massive amount relief.
The deceptively small pair of tug thrusters that powered this massive barge were pushed to full as the vessel continued through the one-hundred and eighty degree turn. It was banking to the side, lasers adjusting their rotations accordingly as the beast turned. The LPI fighters arced away for a moment to regather their bearings, and the train leapt forward, traveling faster. Its laser turrets still blazing backward, spitting the flurry of blue energy blasts at the distant Liberators.
"He's retreating!" a fighter radioed through.
The second-in-command, Wood, though, was desperate to catch this train - not only was it full of Cardamine, it had kill his commanding officer. "Keep on him, he can't escape, attack!" he called frantically, swinging his fighter around to fly at the scorched hull of the train. His thumbs flicked the red covers off the missile buttons on the yoke. "Take this, bastard." Wood whispered.
The ship shook violently as a swarm of missiles blasted across its sides, each one making a large black scorch across the hull, several blowing off damaged sections of the armor plating covering the train.
Cadmus swayed smoothly at the surge of impacts, keeping a hand on a control panel above his head with a rather extensive aura of coolness. He glanced down at the consoles in front of him as the ship continued to shake under the assault. The shield energy was returning to the threshold level, slowly but surely. He glanced back at the console where is hand was, holding down the reactor safety levers, overriding the automatic shutdown that would otherwise spell his doom at the hands of the police. The digital readouts were already in the read, and climbing toward the white, the blowout stage.
The ship rocked again, and some pieces distinctly separated from the ship.
That was enough for Cadmus, as the energy on the shield screens had just cleared the red bars, it was sufficient to bring the shield back online.
He flipped the engine lever forward to cruise position with one hand and then ran it across the shield controls, lighting up several buttons with a slight touch as he did so. The systems of the ship hummed for a second as the engines started to collect energy.
Three seconds later, with a lurch and a crackling noise, the shields leapt back online. They reappeared with crackling arcs of energy weaving around the ship as power was restored. The gasses in the nebula took a leap backward from the vessel, almost as if a depth-charge had just gone off in water.
Now, effects of the police weapons were pleasant muffled thuds on the shields, and Cadmus breathed a bit easier. He was safe, at least for a minute or so. Enough time to escape.
"Coward," the distinctive voice of Set reverberated, "Turn and fight, do not forsake your objective."
Cadmus ignored this, the levels of power again dropping as the weapon fire continued to drain the energy from them. It was almost too fast for his liking. The cruise engines seemed to take an eternity to reach ignition power, but at least their cruise disruptors were useless against him. It took ten tense seconds for the engines to finally flare sluggishly, propelling his ship forward through the cloud, away from the fighters.
Oh, they would give chase to him, but he'd make it to the Cortez hole before them, and then he'd eventually lose them through the southern asteroids on his way to a rather secluded border system he knew well enough... Inverness.
At the end of the day, he was powering across the dim space of Inverness, leaving a trail of smoke behind him as he would power to places only he knew of, his ship limping home, so to speak.
It was somewhere in the dark, smoggy space between space in Bretonia - in a rift between clouds, a negative void through which the solar winds whistle among the rusty outcroppings of the far-reaching redness. The stars shone erratically through the ripples of particles at one end of the chasm, and equally erratically through the other end. The station, a roundish, tower-like affair with a few gangly parts hanging off of it, stayed relatively motionless in relation to the Lochaber Formation. A battered pirate train was clamped into a rather excessive mooring structure along the columnal station, crab-like drones scuttling across its surface in desperate repairs. The utility lights were dim, flickering rays in the distortion of the cloud, weak against the rush.
Inside, the particles rushing past made it sound as if it were a high peak on some mountain on a planet, with winds whipping all around. Metal would groan and creak, much to the dismay of anyone who might happen to be inside the station - which was very seldom the case.
Cadmus, however, was in the station at this moment, watching a flickering holoscreen in the small bar's wall play the latest report of the Colony News Service.
Quote:New London -- 817 A.S. -- The beginning of the year 817 A.S. has brought us Bretonians a bitter and completely unexpected defeat at the Tau-31 Jump Gate. The heavily patrolled Gate had never been breached by any large Kusari force, and it was never considered possible that a large number of capital ships could come through the gate without being destroyed by Bretonian capital patrols in the area. Instead...
A sudden snap of metal made him glance upward from the report. The station creaked and groaned a bit, but it held steady. He turned back to watching the screen, hugging himself to keep warm. The life support still hadn't come up to full efficiency yet.
The news had said something about Kusari transports with EMP charges... go figure, they'd fight dirty. Bretonia could learn a thing or two from them. They shouldn't have lost to such easy tactics.
Quote:... this is a dire turn in the war for the Bretonians. With Kusari now having a firm foothold in Leeds at Stokes, none can deny that Bretonia now stands solidly on the lower ground in this struggle. Despite Bretonia's best efforts to retake the stations, they have only met with defeat against the entrenched Kusarian wall.
The admiralty has gone silent, we have not received any word from them in two sleepless days. The Armed Forces' sorties have ceased, and they seem to be consolidating their position now, preparing for the inevitable Kusarian flood upon Leeds. It seems that only courage, cunning, and the hand of God will save the day for Bretonia now. This is Laura Mitchell, for the Colony News Service.
Cadmus tapped the button on the screen with disgust. Cunning, that was one thing Bretonians didn't have. He didn't see how they could last against the Kusarians, not unless they had something up their sleeve...
He hoped to God that they did.
Kusari was unbalancing Sirius now, and all would come to naught if Leeds was taken.
![[Image: Cadmus4f.png]](http://i663.photobucket.com/albums/uu356/Cadmus_Data/Cadmus4f.png)