"It can't be." "Sure as hell looks like a stolen Templar." "But, why the hell would he come here?" "Because Colin Breen gave him permission to use this base." "Pathetic. A rogue Armed Forces officer on our station!" "What can we say, the chaps got guts."
Over hearing the conversation, Austin gradually walked past the two men bickering back and forth to each other, he smiled slightly as they stared in disbelief upon his arrival. It's been a week since the Armed Forces has declared him rogue, and his life was just beginning.
Mysteries after mysteries. It amused Austin deeply as friends were revealed among enemies, and enemies among friends. Who knew that the moment he went rogue and fled Bretonia that people would offer him sanctuary, especially amongst the Mollies, and interestingly enough amongst the Kithe family. Though Austin had a feeling that would end up a terrible mistake, he even agreed to ignore them, for now.
He paused just outside his Templar and turned around, seeing questioning glances and hostile looks coming from nearly everyone. The expressions on their faces were similar to those that he received on the Armed Forces battleships. It made him feel quite at home, at least home away from home.
So, a week has passed since his official declaration of desertion even though he didn't desert the Armed Forces, or the Queen. However, since no one really understood what went on in his mind no one really knew why he left. He's heard rumors that it was because he was growing tired of the Armed Forces, other rumors were that it was due to his sudden court marshal.
He shrugged to himself and reached up for the bulkhead and began to climb up into the cockpit. He cleared his thoughts as he flipped a few switches and turned some knobs. These thoughts had to escape his mind as he had some important business to attend to on Freeport One in Omega-3. Within a few minutes, his vessel was drifting out in the rocky asteroid field of Dundee. It was a dead run past two Bretonian Police stations followed by a long cruise to the Cambridge Jumphole, then a few clicks until his arrival at the Omega-3 jumphole, then the Freeport.
He leaned back and pressed a few buttons, which brought up his tactical heads up display on the visor of his helmet, everything was clear for now. Just the way he prefers it, as that was the way he wanted it now. A thin sad smiled appeared on his lips as he closed his eyes and let his ship carry him to Freeport One.
The base's bar was bustling with activity as usual. People of every walks of Sirius were represented there, ranging from enterprising freelancers to miners and the occasional criminal on the run.
Aleski was sitting next to one of the large window bays in the room. His mind was floating adrift along with the rocks in the field right outside. He was reflecting about his life, the present and how he had gotten there. From the outside, he seemed to be in trance.
As he was blankly staring at the cold vacuum that stood before him, he was suddenly taken away from his dream-like state.
What's... a lone Templar doing out there?
Almost instantly, the Ensign-on-leave had made the connection. A subtle grin appeared on his face. He finished what little of his drink was left, rose up and started walking towards the docking ports.
Like a true wild man, he thought to himself, mildly entertained.
The somewhat grizzled yet light-faced man under the somewhat damaged Raven's Talon was happily tinkering away at his vessel, enjoying the return to a memorable duty. Rockwell had taken a ride out around the Omega's, and had run into a 'Sair raiding party in the mining fields of Omega-7. He took one down with a lucky shot (He didn't get many of those), and then made his escape. Unfortunately, it didn't sit well with the Pirates, who weren't happy with losing their prey. But Eh, He had his fun, and the work repairing it was just as well.
While he was scrounging through a box of tools the local mechanic had lent him, he noticed the Hangar Dock opening, another ship coming through the airlock system common to every station. To his surprise, and satisfaction, the ship was a Templar. This meant one of two things: 1. It was a BAF Officer, one Rocky might know, and have an 'interesting' conversation with, or 2. It was Goodie, who he could have just as interesting a conversation with, as well as a good story. Regardless, he got up and threw the box in his cockpit, uncaring as to the ownership of it, and sealed his ship up for later as he strode over to the BAF Fighter.
"The pen is mightier than the sword." -Edward Bulwer-Lytton. "Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword never encountered automatic weapons." -General Douglas MacArthur
Ellie nursed her drink, carefuly watching everyone. SHe heard a buzz in her ear, then the soft, almost musical voice of her best friend Izzy.
"Templar. Probably Goodman."
"Who else would fly a Templar out here?"
"True."
"Hows the Midnight Roar and the Star Seeker?"
Izzy looked over to the Raven's Talon and the Charon fighters docked side by side.
"All good....your "seeker" is filthy though."
"True."
They laughed. Izzy kept her eyes on the Templar and the pilots she was watching. It was her job to pay attention. Izzy climbed into her fighter and changed from her dirty jumpsuit to street clothes. She holstered her ZZ-4 heavy particle magnum and placed it in her purse. She stepped out. Izzy was weird that way, schanging to street clothes on a station. But she was that way. SHe checked her V-neck shirt, making sure it was spotles. She was picky that way.
Izzy followed the two guys, the man who had been working on the other Raven's Talon, and the good-looking guy who had stepped out of the Templar.
"Orion, this is Izzy. Why the hell would a BAF Templar be here?"
"No clue" answered the 3rd in command, a teen named Jacob Sheppard. "Not my job. My job is to blow up capitols."
The two laughed as Izzy followed the two.
Once the ship had settled in. A Jacket dropped down from the fighter, the jacket was an Armed Forces dress jacket, that clanged once it hit the metal flooring. Next dropped a man who landed near perfectly on his feet, only stumbling forwards a bit before standing straight and dusting himself off.
After straighting out his shirt and glancing around, Austin picked up his Armed Forces dress jacket and slung it over his shoulder. He was wearing blue jeans, a white dress shirt with a gray vest over it, and polished dress shoes. On his hip laid his trusty standard issued pistol, giving to him by the Armed Forces months before his desertion.
He kept the jacket slung over his shoulder, holding it with two fingers on the inner-collar. He gave a low whistle as he saw people scurrying around the station. A normal day, so it seemed.
The thought of Cambridge came to mind, why? He didn't know and only shrugged it off. He saw a familiar face walking towards him. A thin smile appeared on his lips once he recognized the person, it was Sipher. A long time friend that Austin had originally hated, though after he saved Sipher's life, and Sipher saved his life a few times, they became best of friend.
Of course the past at the moment didn't matter, not yet so he cleared those thoughts out of his mind and went to focus on the main objective, the meeting he had planned. He took a few steps out of sight of anyone else and waited for the two people he was actually waiting on. One happened to be an Ensign of the Armed Forces, who was suppose to be on leave for a head injury.
Strolling slowly out of sight behind his fighter he looked up and reached out to touch the nearest scorch mark. Kusari neutron weapons left the burn on his hull, as well as lasers and tachyon shots. The fact this bird was still able to fly was what made him proud to be a Bretonian. The fact that he was a hero turned fugitive made that smile a sad one.
He let the jacket drop to the floor as he leaned back against the body of the Templar and waited, whistling to himself.
Just as he was leaving the Freeport's bar, The Ensign spotted his now former superior officer's Templar docking where the second hanger bay should be. That little piece of knowledge made Aleski feel rather comfortable and confident. Although he is reputed for having excellent navigational skills in space, one could not say the same inside a space station with which he was not familiar. Even the smaller ones.
Today, the young Armed Forces pilot was not in military attire. Indeed, a few days prior, he suffered a rather severe trauma to the head. Fortunately enough, he came out of it unharmed, save for a persistently stiff neck and the occasional headache. Still, the Suffolk's medical staff insisted on keeping him out of commission for several weeks. The pilot did not protest.
Arriving at the hangar bay, Aleski scanned the area visually. Quickly enough, he found the Templar not too far away. The fighter really stood out from the rest of the ships present, probably flown by less-than-reputable individuals. As he came closer to the Templar, Goodmen came to view.
"Commander Goodmen." He had a slight grin on his face, him being alive at this point was a mildly impressive feat to the young pilot.
"It's good to see you. I knew I didn't see the last of you around, back then." The Ensign extended his hand for a handshake.
Rocky crept slowly towards the Templar, hoping to pull an entertaining prank on the Leave-abusing Ensign. He wore his wicked grin he's all too known for, and brought a finger to his lips, motioning to Goodie over the man's shoulder to be quiet. He then quickly dashed the remaining foot or two of distance and just slammed his arms on the poor guys's shoulders as he yelled at the top of his lungs.
"The pen is mightier than the sword." -Edward Bulwer-Lytton. "Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword never encountered automatic weapons." -General Douglas MacArthur
Just as Deneth extended his hand towards Goodmen for a customary handshake, he noticed the former looking away very briefly, for not even a second, with an ever so subtle grin appearing on his face. Puzzled, he quickly dismissed the thought, figuring Goodmen was probably thinking about something entertaining... or was about to pull another joke about his... nationality.
Immediately after, the Ensign felt two hands land on his shoulders and heard a rather loud scream right next to his right ear. He twitched slightly and just as he was about to grab the intruder into a defensive death-grab, Aleski recognized who was behind the prank. He let out a sigh of relief.
"Rockwell... quite the prankster type, huh. How've you been?"
Rockwell let out a chuckle as he patted the Ensign on the shoulder, "I've been Better." He bowed his head to Goodie ever so slightly with his characteristic smirk, before speaking. "How go things for you Goodie? Your presence always seems to wake even the dead around here." He pulled out his flask for a momentary slip before casually pocketing it. As his fingers rummaged through the bottomless pit that is his pocket, he half-consciously made guesses as to what he was feeling. Mostly they were things he had just thrown in there out of laziness, and then forgot to take them out, but some had a specific purpose, like a used tazer dart... A fine example of an 'interesting' memory. God Dammit, Here I go again. He shook his head a bit as he refocused on the present, "What are we all standing around here for? Why not head to the bar and get a few drinks. My Treat."
"The pen is mightier than the sword." -Edward Bulwer-Lytton. "Whoever said the pen is mightier than the sword never encountered automatic weapons." -General Douglas MacArthur
Austin chuckled and shook his head at the sight of Rockwell scaring the Ensign half to death. "It's just Austin now, lad. Not a Commander anymore." He smiled briefly and caught a glimpse of people looking their way, no doubt wondering why there was a loud scream.
"Aye, why are we standing here? To the bar, we have much to discuss."
He took a step forwards and knelt down grabbing his jacket, then stood back up slipping it over his shoulder and smiling slightly. He started forwards towards the door-way on the far side of the hangar. No doubt that was the way to the bar seeing as he's been here plenty of times before.
Though, who was to stop him for one last visit in one of the last safe havens in all of Sirius, that was near Bretonia's border?
He motioned for the others to follow, which they gladly did, letting Austin take the lead.
About five minutes later they arrived at the Freeport One bar, and headed to the far table where Ensign Aleski was originally sitting. Both the Ensign and Austin's wingmen took seats near the view port, while Austin sat out to the side in case anything interesting happened, for say a Bretonian strike force landing on the station in an attempt to catch the rogue officer. Though knowing Sir Nelson, he wouldn't waste resources on one man, and would leave it for the Bounty Hunter Guild or the Mandalorian Mercenaries to catch him.
Austin hardly believed there was a warrant out for his arrest, and he wasn't sure if anyone was actually looking for him, aside from those that he has been in contact for. He glanced around a bit before placing both arms on the table and rested his chin in one of his hands while the other hand was resting on the upper arm.
"Right, so our first order of business would to be where to find this lass." He said bluntly, "Lieutenant Ashley Taylor, Armed Forces, Suffolk fleet. I could go into her serial number and the other obvious things but right now finding her is more important than getting arrested." He turned slightly, still resting his chin in his hand and glanced towards the entrance, as if waiting for an Armed Forces Special Ops team to bust through, weapons at the ready.
The fact that a few people were looking his way did make things a bit more amusing, seeing as even Zoners heard about his sudden fugitive status in Bretonia, though none of them made a budge to uproot Austin from his chair and turn him into the Authorities, despite the handsome amount of credits that was probably placed on his head. A thin smile appeared as he laughed lightly to himself, "So lads. Any ideas?"
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