"The calm before the storm." Austin said lightly, a small grin appearing on his face. He was wearing his standard issued Bretonian Armed Forces uniform. The rank, Lieutenant Commander, patched onto his uniforms shoulders. Sitting calmly in the cockpit of the Bretonian multi-role fighter, the 'Templar'. He stared out into the smog filled space of Leeds. A system once calm, now ran rampant with the war that befallen this Kingdom, a war that brought pirates to a once calm industrial system. Now, the system was as hostile as the outer reaches of the Omicrons, behind Corsair space.
Austin leaned back in the chair, watching transports make a break towards the blockade. He shook his head as Bretonian fighters opened up on the transports. He mumbled something under his breath and continued to watch the conflict before him. One of the transports erupted in a ball of flames, before finally exploding in the vacuum of space. Over the communications channel, he could hear a shout, that sounded like celebration, just as the other transport evaporated in the dead of space.
He sighed lightly and looked towards his right, towards the planet. The atmosphere was thick with smog from the industrial areas down below. A sudden blast of heavy tachyon flew past his ship, the Derby was opening fire. Shortly after, his scanners flickered to life with blips and alarms going off due to the incoming enemy fighters. Over an unsecured communications channel, Austin could hear the traditional battle-cry of a Kusari pilot. As their ships charged the planet.
Far enough away from the fighting, but close enough to see the tachyon and neutron shots streaking across the open space, sat a transport. Not just any transport, but a smuggling one.
On the bridge stood a mid-twenties man, he was smiling to himself as he watched the fighting. "Right lads," He spoke calmly, turning towards one of his crew members. "We're goin' t' be takin' this loot back t' the Leviathan. I want one of ye t' check the smugglin' hold t' make sure our cargo is secured. Understood?"
Without a word the two Buccaneer crew members that were currently milling around on the bridge, jumped, one could say, and did exactly what he wanted to. After all, it was normally an honor to be apart of the Fools Gold's crew, under the command of the infamous Buccaneer Lieutenant Thomas Anderson, who is believed to live in as much infamy as the Captain Henry Morgan himself, if not more.
Though, Thomas knew of his place, and was a valued asset in the community of the Buccaneers. Nor did he have any desire to spark mutiny amongst the Buccaneers.
Thomas smiled to himself as he returned to the captain's chair and sat down. Running through his mind was the recent wedding of the Captain, and his new wife, and how many times that annoying Lucy Silsbury failed at catching him, and he fellow Buccaneers.
Hell, half the time they're, the Buccaneers, aren't doing anything bloody illegal and she still bothers them! I guess that's what happens when we have a reputation. He thought to himself, holding back a chuckle as the Fools Gold lurched forwards.
Frank Ackerman, originally born Franklin Ackerman, stood quietly in the conference room on Rochester base in New York. He was leaning on the table infront of him studying the recent movements of Kusari transports, mainly the ones fueling the Kusari war machine.
He sighed lightly and pushed an on screen window to the top right corner of the conference table, to view the other screens laying behind it. A Knight Sergeant, Natasha Watts, had once suggested that the Knights keep themselves on semi-good terms with the house governments, aside from Kusari ofcourse, by striking Kusari convoys in independent and border world systems.
He had agreed to this, knowing that striking civilian convoys, especially those supplying Liberty and Rheinland with Kusari goods, would upset the Governments. Now the only thing they needed was a politcal front and public backing. Mainly from Bretonia itself.
He shook his head and closed a random window, before pushing another window to the top right.
Before him, now, was a business profile, the Bretonian Merchant Guild. Yes, He thought, a wicked smile spread across his face. They already out spoken themselves to the Bretonian people. Maybe it's time to have a little chat with Mister Longstreet. As these chaps might be the ones to use a political front. Though, for now, I'll have to see what my fellow Knights think.
"Hope this will do."
- "Yeah, that's perfect."
"Want me to register it with your name, and affiliation Mister Goodmen?"
- "Register it as you would normally. Rather this ship be something special."
"Very well. What will you be naming her?"
- "The Unconquered."
He held out his hand towards the ship dealer, who gladly took his hand and gave him a firm hand shake. "We'll have her moved towards the platform. She'll be ready for lift off whenever you want to take her out."
"Really appreciate it, Lad." Austin said lightly smiling, his gaze turning towards the newly acquired ship. "Now let's see how well she handles."
He continued to smile as the ship started off on the crane towards the launch pad. He still had a few days leave until he was due home, so he decided it was best to waste the money he received a few days ago for helping the Navy against their local pirate infestation, or rather local problems.
Now he hoped this bomber would be worth the credits he put into it, and hopefully helpful. After all he was a fighter pilot, not a bomber pilot.
"Franklin James was a great man," The priest said, "He has helped his country time and time again by suppling the house with supplies needed, during times of war and peace. He will be missed."
Austin sighed lightly leaning back in the chair. He stared at the casket that was being lowered into the ground, no tears formed. He was all to familiar with death. Franklin's wife, Samantha James, took the podium next. She had been crying, could see it from how her make-up was smeared.
"As one final request, my husband wanted me to read off his will." She said, nearly choking on her words, however she cleared her throat and continued. She looked directly at Austin, and began to speak again. "Lieutenant Commander Austin Rodney Goodmen, my husband wanted to give you something that's been in your family since your family settled on Cambridge."
Austin lifted his chin slightly, possibilities running through his head. He was already given the family ranch, as it was in his Uncles will. What more could he possibly get?
"The Merlin is yours," She said simply. "My Husband towed it back to Leeds to get it repaired. He renamed it knowing that if you recognized the name, you would break down. He was meaning to tell you before his death."
Austin nodded slowly, removing his eyes from the old lady, and looking at the people covering the casket up. He sighed lightly and stood up, giving a nod to the Samantha James before walking off.
The Goodman family, as his family was formerly known, lived on Cambridge since it's discovery. A family of simple farmers, with a long line of dedicated males that served in the Armed Forces. The family extremely close to his was the James family.
The James family had no sons or daughters. As their only son was killed during a routine patrol in Cambridge. So Austin and his sister, Lena, were like a son and daughter. Of course, they disliked Lena and preferred Austin, which is why he got the Family transport.
He shook his head, forgetting the thoughts that came to him. Glancing up for a short minute as a drop of rain hit his forehead. He sighed lightly and continued forwards, on foot, to the space port. It was a long walk, but he knew it'd be worth it in clearing his thoughts.
I wonder whats in store for me in the future. He thought, sighing once more, remembering the recent events.
He sat up quickly, eyes wide open. The room he was in was dark, only light came from a source down stairs. It's only a matter of time. He thought. Within seconds he was out of the bed and into the cockpit of his Templar, taking off into a heated battle happening just over Leeds. A Kusari battleship, and some destroyers.
Austin watched in horror as kusari weapons tore through one of the Bretonian battleships in orbit. Swinging his Templar around he saw a missile fly into his wingman's ship, which exploded instantly.
This isn't real. His thoughts raced. To his left a bretonian destroyer was being torn in half, he could hear the Captains voice, it was his own. "All hands, the ship is going down, Evacuation stations now."
Suddenly he was on the bridge of the Invictus. He glanced over seeing himself, standing calmly in the face of the fighting, there was an explosion, which knocked a crew member over. "I repeat, all hands evacuation stations now. Prepare to launch life pods." His voice was calm, to calm.
Outside he could hear the pounding of weaponry, heavy weaponry slamming into the barely holding shields.
"Sir! All pods have been launched except for one."
"Take it."
"Sir?"
"Take it!"
"Aye sir!"
He quickly looked over to see another crew member scramble off the bridge. Then he looked back to see himself calmly walking over to the communications terminal and calmly picking up the headset. "This is Captain Austin Goodmen to all ships, we're going down."
Another explosion went off, which slammed him into the nearby wall. He stood up and recovered from the blast. "The Invictus is going down. We launched the rest of the life pods. I'm seeing to it that I'm going down with the ship. Godspeed. Long live the Queen!"
Just as he finished the sentence, a loud whistle could be heard, oxygen rushing into the void of space. Suddenly, and without warning, there was a bright light. Then he was back in the cockpit of the his Templar, staring at the Invictus as it irrupted into a ball of flame, which soon engulfed his own ship.
He opened his eyes to see that he was drifting in a calm blue system. I'm not dead... Raced through his mind as he smiled. The smile quickly disappeared as solar radiation and coldness pricked against his skin. He suddenly started to gasp for air.
"NO!" He shouted sitting up quickly, and breathing heavy. He tooked a quick glance around the room to see that he was in his house. In the distance he could hear thunder clash across the sky. Slowly he laid back down and stared at the dark ceiling. "It wasn't real. That's...good."
A day since his own dream of him dying.
Seven hours since that fateful fight.
Austin stared blankly out into the void of Hamburg. It was quiet, normal ship-to-ship communications and police scans were going on, as always. His ship wasn't scanned, didn't need to be. All the shipping manifests were up-to-date with the goods heading to and from Bretonia.
Though he didn't care, he was deep in thought, really deep in thought. The past events, the shattering news, the war. That blasted medal. His eyes lowered to the medal that he never let out of his sights. The Carina's Cross. It was said that those who were awarded the Carina's Cross were insane, daring pilots, that all end up dead. So far that was true.
Catharine Brock, and Sir Roger Brinkley. The two most known holders of the Carina's Cross, both dead. Now, it was him, and possibly his turn to go. How? Going down with his ship. It seemed like the perfect way to go. A heated battle, the final defense, the final stand at Leeds. He chuckled lightly to himself, he knew it would be to good to be true.
He leaned back in the chair as the ship lurched forwards, finally going through the gate. It's going to be a long flight home. He thought to himself, closing his eyes. The navigational computer will do the rest of the work.
The fight. The one fight that could send him back to a completely relaxed state almost forgetting everything that happened with that love obsessed countess. This was different, or maybe he was just going insane and actually needed that medical treatment Lafiel was threatening to get him.
A smile crossed his lips as he thought about the day where he was on the Invictus and the girl had started insulting him, those insults. Getting called a 'Wilde Nomad lover', one could say it beats getting called a fish by the colonials or a tea-sipper by Kusarians. Though her using his past as a tool to insult him? A bit far, a bit to far for him.
He should of killed her, though what would be the gain in that? Probably just the joy of getting rid of an annoying voice, but anything further from that, not a single gain.
The ship rocked as it exited the jumpgate. The engines hummed as they started up. It didn't bother him. Though he did open an eye to see the tradelane ring engage. Nothing seemed to fascinate him anymore. Space was boring and dull, outside of the cockpit of a fighter.
Closing his only open eye, he went back to thinking, this time about the fight he had in space with that Gaian. She had threatened to kill him, yet she was bluffing. She hated him, yet loved him? Bloody strange He thought to himself, recalling the conversation. The calm he during the entire fight, nothing like fighting real enemies. As if he knew she was going to break off. She wanted to kill me though. Could tell by the anger in her voice.
He never really played his cards with anyone, or anything, just went on with life and avoided people, and apparently avoiding people led to gaining medals for saving someone he didn't know, or having a trustworthy wingman. Sipher Rockwell. The name he knew all to well, came to his mind. The energetic Rheinland-Hispanic lad that had joined the Armed Forces a week after Austin had. How two rival pilots became friends, still baffles him today.
Though, if there was something about Rockwell, it was that he had an act for getting in trouble and Austin knew that this would one day get him killed. That sadly happened. Then again, this wasn't the first time, nor the second, that Rockwell had mysteriously disappeared from the front. As months went by, Austin had given up searching for Rockwell, deciding to call him dead. The only person he actually considered a friend, dead.
He opened both of his eyes and shook his head, as if removing the unwanted thoughts.
"You don't care about your own people."
Those words, those words hit him hard. Though it was part of his job to get insulted, this stung deep. Especially since it came from someone who didn't even know who he was. "Don't care about my own people eh?" He growled, just as he reached the jumpgate to Stuttgart. "I'll show you what not caring is."
His eyes moved rapidly, pulling the joystick back quickly, tailing an enemy fighter. There was an explosion of what looked to be a Bretonian ship, he didn't catch it quick enough and debris from the ship slammed into his own. Sending his ship into a spiral.
Alarms started going off as he rapidly pressed, and flicked, buttons to stabilize his flight. His ship tumbled into a nearby friendly, causing the shields to fail before bouncing off and hurling off into the other direction. "Come on," He mumbled "Come on!"
He glanced up at the view port infront of him to see two ships hurling towards his direction. "Shields Online" the two ships opened fired with missiles. He quickly slammed throttle forward, hearing something snap, he paid no attention, nor did he feel any pain. His ship hurled itself forwards, out of the line of fire from the missiles.
Quickly he pushed forwards on the joystick, sending his ship down. He pulled the joystick to the right and cut the engines, sending his ship in a fast spin. Now facing backwards he slammed the throttle forwards and engaged the thrusters. "Got a shot with your name on it. Bloody clown." He said, a grin forming on his lips as the enemy ship came into view. There was an explosion off to his right which caused his shields to flicker.
"We got one!" came a familiar voice, it was one of the Ensigns. Austin glanced to the right just in time to see the ending of an explosion. His grin grew wider as he turned his attention back towards the ship coming straight at him, it's guns blazing. "Eat Mini!" He shouted into the comms. He quickly pressed his thumb down on the trigger, sending out a burst of tachyon and EMPs, disabling the enemies shields. Quickly flicking another switch, he pulled the trigger again and a massive plasma bolt shot out from the cannon mounted on the top of his ship.
Everything was perfect, the timing, the flight of the colliding ships, everything. Seconds before the plasma bolt hit, he could see the escape pod shoot out from the Sabre. The Plasma hit, causing the ship to crack. The hull slammed into his, he heard another crack and wisping of air. "Damn, nice shot." Came another familiar voice.
"That's the last of them," Austin said, glancing down at his scanners, "Essex, Commander Austin Goodmen speaking, I'm coming in, get medical teams on standby, I think I broke my thumb. Also get engineers ready, my ships window has a small annoying crack."
"Copy that Commander, medical teams are on standby."
A few minutes after he landed, he climbed out of his ship and dropped to the hangar floor. Two medics ran towards him. "Sir, are you alright?" One medic said, "We got word that we needed to be here." Austin was looking at his hand when the medics came up, he looked up from his hand and held it out. "You tell me. It hurts like hell."
The other medic stared at Austin's thumb. "Sir, you just dislocated it. Come with us so we can get it back in place."
"I completely agree," Austin said holding his hand steady and looking at his thumb, "I mean seriously. I've been shot and broke my leg. But that felt nothing like this." The first medical officer took Austins hand, and pushed his thumb. There was a loud pop followed by a yelp. The second medical officer grinned and nearly started laughing. "There we go. Your medical attention is complete. Good as new."
Austin sighed and shook his head. "It still bloody hurts."
"Security teams to deck four. I repeat, Security teams to deck four."
Sirens blared across the ship. Austin sat up with a yawn. He was onboard the Invictus, and apparently there was a problem. He rolled out of the bed, wearing part of his uniform. He rubbed his right eye before stepping towards the door and opening it.
Heavy foot steps stormed past him, he stepped out and looked down at the Marines heading down towards the stairwell. Another officer, a female who works in the medical staff stopped and looked over at Austin. "Nice," She said with a smirk, "Sir you might want to get some more clothes on."
"What's," He yawned and rubbed his eye again, "What's going on?"
"One of the prisoners attempted to escape. He's armed, obviously. Heading down there with the rest of my staff to attempt to remove the causalities." She said, still keeping her smirk on as she continued staring. "You do know you don't have to stare." He mumbled take a couple steps back and shutting the door. "Inform the Captain of the Guard that I'll be down there in a moment."
He heard a lightly laughter, "Aye sir. Will do."
After a few minutes, he was finally fully dressed. Stepping out of his quarters he walked gracefully down to the fourth deck. He heard shouting, then rounds going off, then return fire, followed by more shouting. He had just stepped around the corner as a flash bang went off. He raised his arm to shield himself from the blinding light, but it had already overwhelmed him. He stumbled into a wall and heard muffled sounds of metal piercing the wall to his left.
Everything was completely out for that entire moment, he felt someone grab his arm and pull him up, apparently he had fallen. "Sir." Came a distant voice. He could feel his legs moving, then a quick rush of getting thrown into the wall. "They're heading to the armoury!" the sound of the fighting started to come back, louder.
When everything finally came back to him, a Marine was standing infront of him shouting. "Sir! Sir! They're heading to the Armoury! They managed to cut our forces off."
Austin shook his head, clearing the racing thoughts and started to focus on the issue at hand. "What do you mean they are?" He asked.
"Sir, the Kusari captives we're holding. Apparently they're attempting to either take the ship over or free themselves. They've already gunned down eight of our men and took their weapons."
Austin could hear the shots clearly now, ringing out from the floor above. "The Armoury is on floor three, do we have any Marines there?" He asked. The lone marine nodded "Judging by the fighting the--"
The marine glanced down quickly after hearing a distinctive thump against the metal flooring. A type-3 fragment grenade had rolled into the small corridor, or someone purposely threw it. Not taking the risk of wondering if the pin was pulled, the Marine acted quickly, pushing Austin out of the way, then within a matter of seconds snatching the grenade off the ground and throwing it down the other end of the corridor, however, the grenade went off in his hand, blowing it coming off and sending shrapnel around the room.
Before the grenade had gone off, the Marine had pushed Austin, who in returned gladly dived to the floor hitting hard and covering his head with his hands. He heard an explosion, which made his ears ring once more and felt something wet hit his hands, and pieces of metal rained down. Shortly after he heard a heavy thump.
Pushing himself up off the ground he turned around and say the corpse of the dead marine, half of his right arm missing, apparently splattered in the hallway, the marines lifeless face, was disfigured, beyond the ability to recognize who it was.
Austin stared at the body as he continued to lift himself off the ground, a searing pain irrupting in his back. Apparently shrapnel hit me. He thought, grinding his teeth together, finally getting himself to his feet. He slowly limbered over to the downed marine and picked up the mans pistol, loading and pulling the hammer back.
"Right. Admiralty is going to be pissed off if we lose this ship to a bunch of Samurai freaks." A slight smile came across his face as he limped towards the stairway.
Austin had ran up the stairs, ignoring the soaring pain arising in his back, and legs. He clutched his teeth tightly, to keep from screaming out in agony. Adrenaline hadn't full set in yet as he neared a heavy shoot out. There was a Marine laying against the wall, a decent size bullet hole in his left shoulder. He was still alive, but could hardly do anything.
"Sir..." The man said, "They've managed to breech the Armoury." He started coughing. Austin looked over to see the medical team making their way over.
"Get him! Priority, he has a bullet wound in his shoulder."
"Aye sir."
There was a sudden burst of shots coming out from the doorway down the hall and to the right. Two people, in Kusari clothing ran around. Austin pulled the pistol he took from the dead marine down one level. "Hold it! Surrender and--" He was cut off as one of the Kusarians fired off three rounds, Austin quickly ducked back around the corner as the bullets harmlessly flew into the wall at the other end of the room. "Damn." He groaned as he slammed his back against the wall.
"I said surrender. You're not getting off this ship alive." He shouted, peeking around the corner, a shot range off and hit the wall just above his head. He ducked back and cursed under his breath. Next to him laid another dead marine, with a type-3 Grenade on his vest. A small smile crossed his lips as he knelt down and grabbed the grenade from the vest.
Pulling the pin, he shook his head wondering why the hell they had grenades on a destroyer anyways. He cleared his mind and stayed kneeling, counting to three under his breath, he quickly popped out from cover and tossed the grenade down range. There was a thump, followed by an explosion. He peaked around the corner to see two corpses laying motionless on the floor.
He took off down the hall, and heard shouting, followed by screaming and gunshots. Austin stopped suddenly, seeing a flash in the corner of his eye. He looked to the right to see a red light blinking. He continued staring at it as it blinked faster. Then, the blinking stopped. "A dud? Amusing." He said smiling to himself, turning around carefully.
As he continued to turn carefully around, he felt a cold blade on his neck. Stopping suddenly he glanced over to his left to see a ceremonial katana, and it's wielder. "So, this is the end, aye?"
The man smiled, just a bit. "No. You can die honorably if you wish." The man lowered his sword. In his other hand he was holding another katana. Which he tossed over to Austin, who gracefully, and carefully caught it.
"Well, It's been a while since I danced personally. Without being in a ship." Austin said smiling, and taking a moment to get the feeling of the katana down. "Shall we tango, or waltz? Because I was thinking of a waltz."
Austin twirled the sword, and then brought it out in front of him in a defensive position.