Colly's R-Talon was under heavy fire. This time, the Planetform got him, alone. Ambushed by 10 fighters, doing everything they could to bring him down. To make it worse, a Bretonia Gunboat patrol was closing in...
Suddenly, he woke up, on his bed in his quarters. It was all a dream, you could say nightmare. He heard a laughter, no doubt coming from the pub.
He remembered the terrible moments that happened to him month ago. Being almost shoot down by Planetform and hunters. Luckily, he escaped and unfortunately, his reactor was shutting down - no doubt a failure that happened because of heavy fire that rained down on his fighter. He would run out of oxygen and with no power to return home, all he could do was hide in the asteroid field, hibernate himself, and hoped for someone to find him. And also hoped that that someone will be Gaians...
Fortunately, they found him, after a month in hibernation state. Most of people don't survive so long, at least not with the hardware he had for hibernation state.
"It's all past now", he thought by himself. "I've got a new fighter, my quarters, my life back."
Quickly, he jumped of his bed, put some trousers and a jacket on, leaving his quarters.
After entering pub, he sensed a fine environment, where he could relax and maybe find some good company.
"Hi there, guys. And girls, of course... *cough*
I wrote a really funny FL story, but it disappeared when the old forum went away. So, no lulz for you today.
With the growing crowd of Gaians, Will was feeling quite content. Of course, the booze may have had something to do with that, too. He leaned back in his chair to relax and fell clean over in a heap.
"Hmph!" he said, pulling himself to his feet and fixing his chair. "Reminds me of that last time with the BAF in Leeds."
Turning back toward the others, he asked, "What do you all think? Any adventure stories from you all? I heard one time Dimi over there tried to take on a Destroyer after one of these late night crawls! Any truth to that?"
She smiled broadly, seeing a familar glint in Dimi's eye as he finished yet another drink. The water from the bucket spashed on her and she laughed, enjoying the sensation. Sorcha was alive and well with the NLH. It had been quite sometime since she'd been around people, Dimi understood her need to assimilate, and had allowed her the space to do so. Sorcha has never been one to mince words, as her preference had always been to put things plainly...usually punctuated with the business end of her weapon. Her soft lilt often soothed even the most savage pilot and her green eyes were alive with passion, disarming to say the least.
She turned to the boss and raised her own vessel.
"Oi... Boss,", she began, "To fallen friends and those who have gone where we shall follow..."
Sorcha drank and set down the mug... grabbing another. It had to be said... while they were all more or less sober. Friends are a commodity and Sorcha didn't have that many to go around. She looked at her boss and offerred a hint of a smile.
For a few seconds, the smile he shoots back to her does little to hide the wicked thoughts that flash through his head as he admires the look of her & the light reflecting the wetness of her skin.
It took a huge effort of will to blink, & a monumental display of self control to keep his animal instincts in cheque & simply turn to acknowledge the waitress standing behind him holding a tray full of drinks, coughing politely.
The barmaid places three shot glasses of whiskey & one pint of stout in the middle of the table, and Damien brings himself out of his trance & asks:
"Alright!...which one of y'all wants to lose a drinking game?"
Moira, Red, Eowyn, William, Sorcha, Colly & Olly all respond in unison their various forms of 'me, I do!' & all at the table explode with laughter.
"Ok then... Colly, you're first!"
Dimi slides the shot glasses in front of him, & pulls the black pint towards himself as he begins to dictate the rules.
However, halfway through, his words are drowned out as the stations emergency sirens begin to wail.
Leaping to his feet, his head explodes with pain the likes of which he has never before experienced as his neural net quickly fills with cross chatter on every Gaian Guard frequency across Bretonia.
Dizzy, he slaps his hands down on the table to catch himself from falling forward and clenches his teeth suppressing a primal scream of agony as blood begins to flow freely from his nose & into his beer, displacing it's rich foamy head with the dark color of crimson.
...This is Holmfirth. Massive amount of system chatter here in Manchester. What's going on?.....Skye Base confirm: We are getting it here too...Islay to Glendale do you copy?.......
Feeling pain when his neural net activates is common for Dimi due to perpetual tissue rejection resulting from his fighting the initial installation tooth & nail when it was forced upon him by the government during his younger years at the beginning of his political imprisonment, but this...this is too much to bear.
He simply can't seperate all the noise. Nothing but the pain exists, & he just can't take it anymore and succumbs to howling, pulling his knife and wanting nothing more than to dig out the circuitry right here & right now.
Moira spins him around, slapping him hard across the face mouthing angry words he can't hear as she takes away his blade.
Sheathing it, she curls her fingers into a fist & loosens one of his teeth, & it jolts the world & the net voices into focus.
...REPEAT, THIS IS NOT A DRILL. ALL GUARD ARE ORDERED TO REPORT TO GLENDALE STATION FOR IMMEDIATE ASSIGNMENT.
Without another word, the NLH drop everything & bolt for the door like the proverbial bat out of Hell.
With all the commotion Olly slams a few large gulps of whiskey and runs for the door.
"Awww.. Shhips.. outta the hangar, let em rip, gots ta get yer butts out an defend it! No time fer this silly business eny moar! Get your....*beeeelch*.....oy that's rancid!..... Olly's comins fer ya!"