Irregular Apocalypse, Melbourne Station, Tau-44, 16:15 Sirius Standard Time.
Irregular Apocalypse was a quiet, back-alley bar within Melbourne Station with little importance. Although Outcast forces and Crayterians engaged in a fierce war, Melbourne was still one of the safer places for now. Ideal to rest, take a drink and then go back into the fight. Most of the local Crayter garrisons and Independent Miners Guild security was located around Melbourne and Minato. Yet not many visited the forgotten bar. Today however was different. For once, the bar was having more than ten people. Most of it was the crew of a Zephyr-class Carrier Boreas. After it's previous Captain, James McKinnon was demoted, the vessel was transferred to Reserve Fleet. Captain Rasim Naramov took a whiskey and sat on a chair that was away from the crowd. His X.O. came to him and asked, "For how long will we be here, Captain?" the captain hid his face within his hand for a second and then squeezed his head. "Until our ship is back in working order or sniffers tell us to get lost, whichever happens first. Enjoy the moment and try to rest before the battles to come. I have some matters to attend on my own." Then the captain pulled out a PDA. Typed an encrypted message. If someone in the bar could read the message he typed, all they would see be "Borneo is under the Orange Hammer's shadow."
Born on planet Volgograd, Anton Fomin was a Coalition soldier, an officer to patrol cruiser, which was lost due to his own mistake. Years later, he was given another chance - to be a part of the Third Syberian Battlegroup. He made some success and lately was transferred to the Sipukha of the SCEC. However, he failed again and ended up leaving the military service and the Coalition. Some time ago, he tried to work as a freelancer: the income from escort contracts was low, and Fomin barely could uphold the spending for fuel and repairs. Slowly, it started to change when he joined the Guild's paramilitary forces. Step by step from a regular soldier to an officer in a patrol cruiser. Back from where Anton started, he reached the position of a Captain and was assigned to Guild Patrol Vessel the Pathfinder, deployed in the system of Tau-44. All it happened recently before the Hammer fall.
For the last few days, they were fighting the Maltese: since the Hammer fell, the Outcasts were not abandoning the attempts attacking Melbourne and planet Minato but always had to face the battlegroup Hades of the Colonial Republic and IMG defence forces, deployed from Singapore. It made the station safe heaven in the heat of battle, where soldiers could get some rest while their ships under repairs and drink for the memory of those who left behind. The Guild was not afraid the Outcasts to spot the shipyard: it was near to impossible to pass the Sumatra cloud: composed mainly of microscopic ice particles, which renders most scanners inefficient. It appeared to be useful when IMG was choosing a location for their secret shipyard. The field contains pockets of volatile oxygen that are extremely dangerous to bypassing ships as well. Altogether, it creates incredibly beneficial conditions for the IMG. However, let us return to Captain Fomin and the GPV Pathfinder.
In the last combat, the cruiser got some physical damage from the debris impact after one of the outcast cruisers was blow up. Now, while the repairs of the ship are performing near Melbourne, the crew can get a quick moment of rest before another battle will get started. The Captain, alongside some officers from the ship, were resting in one of the bars of the station, named the Irregular Apocalypse. Oh, Lord, who could have named a bar like this? However, they have come not for discussing the bar's name but for drinking and taking rest, and this is what they do. However, the Fomin himself was interrupted by a short message his PDA received, the message was short: "Borneo is under the Orange Hammer's shadow.". He raised the eyes and tried to find Captain Naramov.
Irregular Apocalypse, Melbourne Station, Tau-44, 17:20 Sirius Standard Time.
Captain Naramov saw IMG Captain Fomin at a distance. Then he stood up, walked towards him and saluted him even though he knew guildsmen did not really salute. Just seconds later he have become much more friendly however. "Isn't that the Captain of Pathfinder? Thank god you are alive." Rasim then showed him the bartender, after that pointed at his table. "Take a drink and be my guest. We have a lot to talk." he said before walking to his table again.
As both took their seats, Rasim asked questions. "I am sure you received my message and I am thankful you answered. Before that however, where is your crew? On Pathfinder? And where is rest of the Guild? How are things over... there?"
"Co... Captain Naramov, what an unexpected meeting," he shortly bowed, "There is no God to thank, but Fortune. Despite all, she kept us alive."
"The Guild is here. Despite the Guildmistress being incapable of deciding what's more important to the Guild - Taus or Omegas, we are here. If you didn't notice, the local defence forces sent two battle groups here, with Sagarmatha-class battlecruisers in the head of these fleets." Anton was talking calmly, but a careful listener could notice some coldness in his voice. The man did take the question as an offence to military service within the Guild, and by whom? By Colonial officer, one of those who left them behind when the Guild needed their help? Back then, Fomin was not part of the Guild, but a Coalition officer, and still, he understands well what happened.
"My crew is taking rest on the station while the Pathfinder is under repairs. In the last combat, the debris from blown Storta hit us and commenced some damage to the hull. Luckily, nothing important suffered damage, just auxiliary systems. It will take a day or two to repair it all. We are losing, Rasim. There are many of them, and our forces are not enough to stop the offence, but we are just delaying our fate. However, what do you have in mind? The message you sent certainly was not just for a calm talk."
Irregular Apocalypse, Melbourne Station, Tau-44, 17:25 Sirius Standard Time.
"That's good to hear. About the Pathfinder I mean." Rasim then leaned forward and lowered his voice. "I too, know that we can not win this war, unless a miracle happens and people get their shit together. My people are still busy hiding from rice lovers and throwing all the things they got to fight Enclave. Now I think you think 'why a Colonial called me to this place?' right? Well, you are correct about I did not sent you the message for a calm talk. Not every Crayterian are happy about what happened at Omega 3 and later happenings. Some of us had families in the Guild and I am sure some Guildies were Crayterians before. This mess? It has to stop. If we put huge bridges across thanks to struggles of a madwoman and turncoat Admiral, how are we going to trust eachother and come out alive against those sniffers?" Then Rasim took a sip from his drink. "We need to put aside our differences. If folks at Sevastopol did it back then, we can do it too. What do you think, Anton?"
"Well, I agree. We have no reason to have grudges here and now. After all, we are not the politicians, are we?" was a short answer to Rasim. "However, what do you offer us to do? We're between the hammer and an anvil, your government is busy in simping Bretonia and Liberty, our leadership is just... busy... with... something. I have no f*cking idea what they're doing. I'm under the command of the local garrison commander and do what I must. Here and now, only the Outcasts matter. They should pull off on their own or with force, but in our current situation – we have no many chances."
Irregular Apocalypse, Melbourne Station, Tau-44, 17:27 Sirius Standard Time.
"You are sadly correct. We can not do something about that as of this moment. However if we make it out alive, I believe we can put a little more emphasis on... independence." Rasim answered. "It might feel a bit crazy and ambitious perhaps, what I am going to say right now. What if we could use the climate into our advantage in the aftermath of...this?" Then he motioned around with his hand pointing in general. "A new...union? Crayterians and Guild alike. At least those that wish to. I believe Henderson and his men thought of closer relations between Crayter and the Guild. This might seem like...treason maybe, but think about it. Would you prefer to follow an indecisive 'Guildmistress in wild chases instead? What is a 'Guildmistress' even? You miners having royals around now?" Rasim took a second to recompose himself and then started talking again. "I damn sure had enough of crying to houses for help. I understand having them as cooperative ventures, even allies, but where did our dignity go, to the point we are dragging Liberty into Coronado? If we have to deal with this massive invasion on our own, why do we even bring Liberty into the table for minority of sniffers?"
"Before we proceed, you, the Republicans, had a different name and were proud of it. Now you're kinda ashamed of it and hiding under this 'Crayter' thing. What has changed? Why did change the very name of yours?" - the question was an answer.
Irregular Apocalypse, Melbourne Station, Tau-44, 17:27 Sirius Standard Time.
"Well, its not exactly hiding our name. We came from a sector named Crayter, although I have never seen it myself properly. I was barely a teen when we came to Sirius after all." Rasim said and then took a big wig of his drink. "Have you heard the story of Claire Chandler?" Rasim asked, then he answered it himself. "Not from a Guildmember. It is a rather long and weird story of power struggles, almost became what, Second Civil War? Well, that woman was a Fleet Admiral. Very paranoid and had ego as large as Salina itself they say. I am not privy to the entire story. However from what I heard, the first 'rogue' Admiral, Michael Richard engaged in a power struggle with the Fleet Admiral and then stuff happened. You know well about the second one. It was a weird thing, Admiral Richard had his own force and rumors says Rapiers were with him. They were not at war really, just that he operated from Baffin back when Helios was not a pile of scrap, had a ton of loyal people at his side and things were cold between him and rest of the Fleet. One day all of a sudden, Claire Chandler resigned and Michael Richard became Fleet Admiral. Since then nobody knows where Chandler went." Rasim ordered another drink. "Claire Chandler was the last Admiral where the term Colonial was used. Even in her time it was rare but it was a time where Colonial and Crayter was used as the same thing. Much has changed to be called Colonials again nowadays." Rasim then lets out a sigh.
"This doesn't answer my question, thought." - Anton drank a bit and looked on Rasim. "So, with skipping long and epic speech, you simply want Colonials and the Guild to merge for the sake of the Tau-44's security or what?"