Synopsis: Broken-Hammer (Zoner Heavy Destroyer a.k.a. "Fearless")
Captain: Izii
Callsign: Indigo-Zed-Indigo-Indigo, or just Indigo-Three.
Age: Approx. 30 years
Affiliations: Unknown - possible former Military or Mercenary, now a Zoner Guard
Personal Vessel: Elite Fighter - Codenamed Battlehammer (Raven's Talon)
Crew: Approximately 12-60 at any given time.
Specifics: 13 ship crewmen (9 gunners, 1 Comms Officer, 1 Navigation Tech, 1 Medical Officer).
Remainder: Aside from the light crew, the ship maintains a science team and highly-trained Marines.
Broken-Hammer currently services Zoner requests, needs, and their allies; though maintains it's captain's main goal, a thourough mapping of border systems and chief among them, Nomad space. All records and findings are housed on an encrypted computer matrix disk and is logged and Sparta or Corinth Research Station after each deep run.
* * *
Izii, as a young and bold pilot enlisted his services across Sirius as a fighter for hire. After a few shadey deals and missions that've left more than just physical scars on his person, he's sank beneath the radar to persue his former pasttime. After mapping dozens of systems thouroughly and surviving his interloping into Nomad space, his affinity for Freeports and the Zoner way of life began to appeal and take root into his thinking. No secrets, no regrets, just honor and a fast ship. Its all he's lived by, and with his friends moving over to help Zoners and their interests, he finally threw himself in fully to help them.
A stoney, stoic exterior belies his mildly unstable psyche. Having seen some of the worst Sirius space has to offer, his personal Hell is the cage of regret he deals with despite his new life as a Zoner pilot. Lone survivors exhibit similar psychological profiles to this man of approximately 30 years. A fiercely loyal person since his past failures (or what he perceives as failures), his loyalty is to those he'd call friends and partners and their lives above his own. Aside from having one fully synthetic, cybornetic leg, one cybornetic arm and a replacement eye (originals lost in a firefight against Nomads in his former profession as a mercenary), his bodily health is above average, himself keeping a strict, psuedo-military routine each daily cycle.
Aside from his mild mental instability and past record, he has gathered a crew for his Zoner Destroyer, Broken-Hammer (or simply Hammer), not just a modest crew, but a full science team eager to see Nomad space and first-hand Nomad accounts, as well as a team of ex-soldiers of clean record who've either volunteered to serve, or were hired on for a specific tour of duty. Aside from standard commodities and basic necessities for any deep-space vessel, Izii outfits an armory on board the Broken-Hammer that can outfit every crew member with a loadout of weapons should the destroyer ever be boarded, or land on unknown planets. This semi-paranoid behaviour attests to what he calls "heightened life expectancy", which lends to his mental instabilities further.
-End Medicl Log, Medical Officer Anya Schtauffen, Log 1
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
While we were set on a slow drift in a (relatively) safe sector of space, the fuzzy-logic AI making slow adjustments to our course, I was walking the ship as I normally do. That is when I saw Captain Izii staring blankly out of the obersvation deck into space. Normally this could be discounted for mere personal fascinations he might have with the view, though it was the defeated and empty look that lended him an unnerving appearance.
Aside from his regular psychiatric sessions he goes through, this is a rather extreme of behavior to witness from the captain. Professional opinion dictates Izii may suffer from anti-social withdrawal and/or a self loathing mindset that is altogether self-destructive. It was after this episode he made a message he'd take his personal ship out of dock and he'd leave us at Freeport 11. The crew was glad for the time to truely rest. As usual, I made hard copies of relavent data on Captain Izii and prepared it for when we return to Corinth as per our routine.
Aside from the standard data on Izii's past, I can only piece together this is a complication on his psyche at best - a yearning to return to how things used to be perhaps. This could be attributed to an anti-social disorder he might suffer from, as he often seperates himself from contact with many other people, aside from whoever he might meet on his personal vessel. Pulling data logs from his craft is standard, and I may do such after this trip in order to expound on current medical data. Izii does, after all, record much of his time through audio and visual formats on his ship's computer.
Perhaps this may shed light on his person so as to form a better diagnosis.
-End Medical Log, Medical Officer Anya Schtauffen, Log 2
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
The crew was on high alert, the captain had us remain near a Junker base while he took his personal fighter, the Battlehammer, into the Kansas system. We were sent data on what appeared to be a damaged alien jump gate, despite our science team's warnings, and the warnings of two pirates he met in the system, he activated the jump sequence. We waited for three cycles, on the fourth we got the distress beacon from his ship. Working our way towards the gas cloud his ship was left in, we hauled the mangled wreck and him on board.
Amazingly he was alive, his Vac-suit held together and he was suffering from a wide array of life-threatening injuries. His ship was utterly destroyed and we are examining the wreck for evidence of what done the damage. As for Captain Izii, he was in medbay for two more cycles, his cybernetic arm and leg needed replaced, his ocular replacement was fine. We performed a risky procedure to repair the organ damage, his lungs and heart were severely damaged from impact damage, and ultimately the medical team worked with the science crew on replacing one lung with a cybernetic replacement. It is working at peak efficiency, three ribs were replaced with alloy replacements.
With some accelerated healing methods, the captain was back to most of his duties, he set us a course for Freeport XV and we docked within a cycle. He logged a rather inconclusive record of what happened to him and his vessel. He claimed to have reached an odd structure in the system he arrived in. "It appeared Nomad, though not entirely so." - His words. We were unable to locate the damaged jump gate he sent images of to the Broken-Hammer, nor did we try to find it. The Captain has logged the Kansas system as a Black system on our navmaps, one we'll never go to.
Its been a full twelve cycles since his ordeal, and I did a battery of physical tests and mental profiling. I am rather astounded at the amount of honesty he seemed to display. Deviating to rudimentary conversations about honor and peace, unity and such. I immediately ran him through an Infestation scan, and he came up clean. Though this is a near reversal of his personality on some levels. He still holds a brooding attitude towards the crew, though in private conversation he is very strong-willed and insistent on ways of viewing right and wrong.
All considerations, this mood change is consitent with bi-polar disorder, perhaps from extreme fatigue or stress. Both most likely. I've cleared him for duty and we're headed to Freeport 6 on the next cycle. Izii has set up a small break from duty for the soldiers and crew, stating he'll be piloting his private vessel, a new Virage, for a few cycles. As chief medical officer, I've stayed on board with a few science team members to look through the wreck of the Battlehammer, and see what might be found.
-End Medical Log, Medical Officer Anya Schtauffen, Log 3
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
We made way across several Freeports in this cycle, the captain carried out a routing sequence of patrols, ending in Delta for a time where we patrolled. Of note we intervened the destruction of three seperate traders via Nomads. Shortly thereafter we surrendered the collected Nomad brains to a Bounty Hunter "Core" vessel. There was a hint of animosity from the captain, though in the end I do believe he put to rest a few suspicions he held of the group.
We ran a typical physical and psychological evalutaion of all officers, Izii checked out with some progress with his introverted mindset. In some way I believe it has come with his joining the Zoner Council officially. Though he sees the honor as being allowed to act more officially on their behalf, he spent almost an entire cycle post-acceptance reading message banks and comms on all recent Zoner actions. The Treaty was signed between Liberty, Bretonia, and the Council of Zoners. Izii, for the first time in his role as captain, held a celebration at Freeport XV, and the crew was given time off. He, of course, cut his celebrating short to continue catching up on the Neural Net data he'll need for his heightened role. Out of this his mental changes are perhaps most accompanied to his newfound sense of purpose.
I came across his profile while using the link to Corinth and Sparta, Izii's of course, his summarized background check when the Guard accepted him. Now of course, it's been updated.
Name: Izii Helfari
Callsign: Indigo-Three.
Age: Approx. 30 years (Subject has admitted to his inaccuracy of age due to time in cryo.)
Affiliations: Zoners Guard
Personal Vessel: Zoners Virage Fighter
Service Vessel: "Fearless" Class Destroyer, a.k.a. Broken-Hammer
Background: Izii Helfari is the son of a once-prestigious Rheinland fighter pilot. It was shortly after the return of infested-Rheinland officers to the Rheinland systems that he was captured infiltrating the ranks. Summary execution and subsequent questioning and close scrutiny of Izii left him and his mother little choices but to flee Rheinland to begin anew. Izii's mother died from cryo-sickness after a deep-space voyage to Gran Canaria on a low-rate passenger transport. This was later attested to faulty equipment, and left Izii with a small inheritence he immediately put to use on Gran Canaria. Purchasing a personal fighter, he took up work as a mercenary until interest in the Zoners picked up.
After a short time as a simple member of the Zoner society, he chose to take initiative in the Guard and shortly after, had a Fearless class destroyer built at Livadia for his duties. A hand-selected crew he can trust, and taking chief initiative to protect Zoner traders and allied traders, he's since made deep excursions to map Nomad space, and with good success. Bringing back tactical data to The Order and securing their trust in him, he's since been heard voicing a message of honor and trust in what he sees as a time of deceit and cowardice.
End Medical Log, Anya Schtauffen, Log 4
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
As with many of the officers who agreed for the service on board the Broken-Hammer, we were being paid really well. It was more than simple credits that lured a small science team out of their routine practice. In the end I begin to notice it was more than mundane reasons we are staying on this ship. There is an unusual calm and collective peace between everyone on board as crew goes. I suppose this deserves entry to my medical logs for it is almost the same as what could be called a "mass hysteria".
Despite Izii's own troubled past, he's taken many troubled people from varied places and given them a solid chance to be more than a number among faceless masses. Now that I notice the backgrounds of each member of the vessel bear a striking similarity. My research took many days of reading and requests from Sparta for personnel data. In the end I drew a very odd coincidence with each background for every officer on board, we'd all suffered some form or another from the Nomad Wars, and are either survivors or sons and daughters of it.
Indeed, we, for my family was on board Freeport 7 when it was destroyed, myself far away at Freeport 5 to help with a case of radiation poisoning when the shielding failed on a section of the station. I beleive we're all a subtle union of those directly impacted by the Nomads in one way or another.
Making my matter clear, I've logged research hours into the marine Lieutenant on board, himself a soldier of fortune and lone survivor when his ship was, as he could say, "taken" by Nomads to have the crew infested. Of note was his record as he did not just survive, but manage to take control of an escape craft from the cruiser he was on, and escape to be picked up by Zoner vessels in Delta.
With further investigation, I have noticed the captain's rotation of officers off, and onto, ever since his entry into that system, the one so many pilots supposedly lost their minds from. He finally divulged that phrase so many pilots in asylums and prisons say.
"The Emerald City is made of Amethyst; Theres a Wicked Witch in the North." I was afraid he was losing, instead he went to explain that the phrase was not madness, but how many minds would cope to explain what they encountered. What he encountered. I will say no more on file other than I have him under close watch personally, for any change in personality - barring the recent change in officers to this strange string of backgrounds we all seem to share, he has stayed the same. For now.
End Medical Log, Anya Sctauffen, Log 5
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
Captain Helfari's been improving on a physical and mental level. I caught him on the C.T.B.O. deck, that's Combat Training, Boarding Operations deck. He was with a group of his volunteer soldiers, well, group, more like a small platoon. It was interesting how they refer to him as L.T. or Lieutenant. The entire deck is remade for light-laser holographic projections. This simulation was planet-side warfare, urban environment.
In the observation booth, I could only remark I was impressed at how well the good captain handles himself on the ground. I never took him as a soldiering type, perhaps he was at one time, before the obvious injuries, not many House militaries keep soldiers who lose limbs. I speculate too much.
As for his improvements, he's been more active in his duties than normal, but it's on a good turn. I feel like we're on "meet and greet" assignments, greeting new pilots and chattering away with their crew, or just listening to Captain Helfari banter with passing captains. There's hard times and easy times on board the Broken-Hammer, and for once I can say it is an easy time for us as a whole.
As for my suspicions to the changes in crew, the new crew is an optimal choice for Nomad combat, seeing as almost all gunners and logistics personnel are survivors or Zoners who've fought them before. I can't help but approve on the choice to take his aggression to a common enemy for most people. That, perhaps, is the change in mood. Of note on physical health, the cybernetic limbs and implants are all working at optimal efficiency, and his standing statistics are above average well-being. For now, things seem good as could be in the edges of Sirius, lets hope it stays this way.
End Medical Log, Anya Schtauffen. Log 6
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
This has been a troublesome series of events. During a routine scan we picked up an infested on board. The subject broke out of the containment field with an odd device and made its way to the captain's quarters. A fight ensued between Captain Helfari and the Nomad-infested crew member. The fight lasted no more than a few moments, ending with the death of the poor soul, and the nomad infesting his body. Postmortem report will state this was a Zoner pilot we picked up in Delta, their ship disabled and themselves physically fine, beyond scrapes and bruises.
We picked up the survivor, the infested survivor, just a few hundred meters from the sun corona in the far reaches of Omicron Delta's asteroid field. The subject was killed with three clean knife wounds from the captain's boot knife, it, along with the body was put in containment, and the deceased Nomad that fled it's dieing host and was killed via combat knife by the captain as well. Captain Helfari insisted we run a full series of sensory scans and biological tests to ensure he is not in any way infested. Paranoid to some, but with his outspoken stance against Nomads, it is no suprise he is strict even upon himself.
After the weapon, infested human, and nomad specimen were frozen and sealed away, we sent them directly to Order Primary fleet for study and disposal. The Captain himself is well, minor damage to his cybernetic arm. Seems the infested pilot used a crude shank-like object to stab at the captain, with no effect. It was removed and the captain took it to his personal quarters to repair it and reinstate the limb for use. Aside from that incident, excitement has been minimal beyond usual patrols and the occassional Nomad patrol being shot down.
End Medical Log, Anya Schtauffen. Log 7
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
A lone figure stumbles into the dimmed room, out of the brightly lit hall. The pneumatic door hisses closed just as he seated himself in a rough manner. Izii looked worn and tired in his movements, setting his steely, robotic hand on the table to tip-tap away with the human-like digits. His eyes fixated upon the movement as if the limb was a foreign and alien thing. As the lights slowly grew brighter, to a more comfortable stanza, a woman in a clean, white uniform seated herself with a handheld data assistant, she would push up her glasses before looking up at the captain.
"Its good you've finally come for a psych-eval, captain. I know it might feel intrusive or insulting, but yes, most officers have to go through this as well." She managed a weak, fake smile to the man across the table, she set her PDA down and folded her hands on the table.
"To live a life with regret is to not live at all, at least that's what the old man said." Izii gruffly stated, in his right, normal hand, he twirled a modestly-sized cigar between his fingers like a drumstick in a musician's hand.
She squinted just slightly, a blink at the statement.
"Sorry, I've been in a bit of thought the past cycles, I don't doubt that we all haven't dealt with things in our own way." The captain cleared his throat, adjusting his slight slouch.
"It is quite alright, captain, though as your chief medical officer, I can only urge you to discuss what bothers you." She tapped a key on the PDA, the recording began. Izii lowered his gaze to regard the object mildly, a slightest visible sneer curled the corner of his lips.
"You know what's bother me. We had the bastard and we didn't get him. Though, I've my crew to think of." He paused a moment as his metallic fingers stopped tapping, one drug itself forcibly, leaving a slight scratch in the glossy surface of the metal table. "I know a hate worse than I held for my old man, worse than the thing that ruined my family. I had a chance to bring closure to victims, to shut this down before it started- bah.. Who am I kidding? I'd at least stopped anything more. I know regret, now."
Anya looked down at the recorder as he spoke, her brows taking a thoughtful expression as he spoke. "Though, you had your duty to us as well, what use would be taking the man prisoner only to have our crippled ship be prey to the pirates that were closing in?"
A sudden flicker of metal in the light, and the captain snatched his cybernetic hand back, frowning in a short fit of anger. He cleared his throat once more and raked the steely tips of his fingers through his hair. "Hindsight, its always cruel and true. I should have been in my personal ship, it should have been my life against his, not my crew. At least then, if we'd both burned in some pirate prison, it'd only been me and that bastard."
The woman nodded and sighed just mildly, she looked up to the captain, in more ways than one it seemed as her expression was more than just caring in it's concern. "You handled it as a Guard, like you told those who listened on your channel. You handled this for them, as a captain who kept the law at Freeports."
"Something that is little comfort to families and dead people, isn't it? Though we all become bleeding hearts on our sleeves when it seems opportune. No one flinches at the mention of pirates wholesale slaughtering travellers, or the like, it's 'Sirius as usual'. It sickens me, the human condition in these far reaches. While you can take it on record, yes, if given a second chance, I'd risk my entire crew for one madman, but you note that each crewman on board would risk themselves all the same."
The doctor lowered her eyes as he spoke, waiting until he finished, perhaps it was the visible reddening in his cybernetic eye as his temper flared, it wasn't short of intimidating at this range. "Yes, any Zoner with compassion for others would place themselves there to have stopped this. Any person would have, if they could."
"I don't know what to make of myself, after this mess. I wanted a peaceful life after leaving military work, maybe it is time I do just that. I can't be sure, repurpose the crew, or something of the kind. I can't be sure." He pushed up from the chair, nodding in a brief way with the doctor. "I believe our time is up, for this session. I've my job to tend to. Thanks for listening, Anya."
"Salvete, captain." She merely stated as she pushed the key on the PDA again, the recording ends.
------
Its a virus a doctor can do their utmost against, but cannot perscribe any treatment for it. A deep, loathing depression has taken the the normally stoic demeanor of the captain, and made him a grim shell. On the surface all seems well, though during his evaluation he expressed a deep regret for the obvious shockwave through all Zoners. He spoke at length abouthis feelings on the combat we undertook against the culprit of these events, and was furious with himself, moreso now that events have come to unfold. Having had a chance to bring the man in, and make him face justice, though it was only logical to vacate the system, our battle had roused the patrols of multiple groups, and staying in a crippled destroyer was suicide. No amount of reassuring himself of that makes him feel better, such he told me.
The captain's expressed his thoughts on retirement, or a less combative role for himself and his crew. It was a disheartening thing to hear, as he has served amicably amongst a crew that he regards as his peers. He has, on the brighter side, taken his routine patrol, and a mild interest in an unidentified signal originating somewhere in Liberty space. For now, I stand by on a closer than normal watch to ensure this is only a passing phase, and that nothing that will hinder him incapable of leading his crew.
End Medical Log, Anya Schtauffen, Log 8
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
The Broken-Hammer drifted noiselessly through the asteroid filled nebula. The occasional 'plinking' of the small asteroids against the shields provided an equally silent light show to the crew on the observation deck. They drifted with engines off and weapons primed as they dared into that inky green abyss before them. Captain Helfari stood at the helm, appearing unkempt at the least. His hair tousled out into wild curls, his face unshaven for a week or more, and that left cybernetic eye drifted around rapidly in time with the organic partner. A steely, charcoal-steel cybernetic hand rested on the console as he hovered his thumb over the alarm button. The entire crew, on a broad scope, were ragged and worn as he. They'd been in this nebula for almost a month now, their ship showing wear and grime from several blast marks on the hull. The dorsal mortar canon blown in twain, the pick-pock of sparks cracking between the split halves.
They'd been fighting this entire month, rampant Nomad patrols and the Irra that engaged them. It had come down to point blank combat several times, both ships limping away to avoid destruction and seek slow repairs in the mist that shrouded them. Neither sought escape, as escape meant powering down weapons, and revealing their location in the fire of their cruise engines. It was going to end slow and brutally over the length of the battle. Several crewmen of the Hammer lay in sickbay, the ship's climate support failing as it begun to grow freezing cold within the vessel.
A dim blue glow came from within the green mist, parting it quickly as it neared. Captain Helfari pressed his metal thumb down onto the alarm button. Sirens wailed and lights flickered as the shot hit the kinetic shields, rolling over the grid work of energy plates and harmlessly away. The canons begun to roar to life, bolts of yellow and white streaming back in response as the other ship, barely visible in the distance floundered it's shape and rippled. A second burst of blue energy erupted from the alien thing. The shot breaking the shielding as it ripped through the hull. The swell of blue light enveloped the bridge as the creaking of metal could be heard. The ship's hull bent inwards, a pop, a snap. Then the terror of the vacuum claiming victory. The hissing of atmosphere leaving the ship, the alarm went from combat to escape. To flee from the bridge and into the depths of the ship for safety.
Captain Helfari grasped a breather mask that lay on the console before him. Strapping it on he took a deep breath of the emergency air provided. The crew scrambled for the airlock doors deeper into the ship. The Captain staring down the next wave of blue energy that rushed to greet the bridge. He took hold of the ship's controls as the gun's continued to fire responses at the alien thing. The brutal end was coming for them both as the creature in the green abyss rippled and ruptured. The explosion of blue organism paling as the Irra's final shot impacted the bridge. The hull splattered down in hot shards of metal as Captain Helfari felt the stings and bites of hot shrapnel tearing his skin, muscle and bone.
He hit the cruise drive controls as the Nomad enemy uttered it's death clearly to the Captain in the form of a gushing nova of blue energy. The Broken-Hammer sped through the obliterated enemy as hot metal shredded the Captain's body. He pressed the controls for all their last, in one defiant effort as he felt his still-organic limbs grow numb and cold. The Hammer gracefully made wide arcs and passed itself around asteroids, breaking for the edge of the nebula and escape as the toxic green mist filtered into the bridge. He could see the end, though it grew dim at the same moment. He pressed harder, demanding the ship give it's all, and from the edge of the misty nebula, like a Pheonix coming from it's own ruin, the Broken-Hammer soared out of the gasses behind it.
He collapsed, the world grew dim, then darkened as a haze took his eyes. The breather hissed as he took a struggled breath. Their Captain clutched the console as the marines on board entered the depressurized bridge. His crew coming to his rescue, if it were not too late for their captain already.
-------------------
Medical Officer Anya Schtauffen: Report on patient Izii Helfari
Extensive burns to torso area, minor shrapnel recovered from several entry wounds. Multiple lacerations from debris and extensive bleeding (finally stopped). Vitals are stable though weak, showing possible declination without intensive medical treatment.
First Officer has taken command, and has guided us towards the nearest friendly base. In this case it will be Order space, Toledo or Isis. We will send proper communications once we navigate the asteroids back to Order space. Closing medical log.
End Medical Log, Anya Schtauffen, Log 9
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
"Zoners, Captain Helfari here, I've come to help."
The sleek, though already scuffed hull of the Karasu fighter gleamed in the sun of Omicron Theta. Ahead was the hellish firefight, a soldier's nightmare as he raced towards impossible odds of a swarm of treacherous Corsair bombers and fighters. Not to mention the sight of an Osiris' guns being turned onto the Zoners by Corsair gunners. Though the fighter burns into the fight, engaging a bomber as he'd make a series of hard turns. The G-Force meter raging as anyone but a veteran pilot would vomit, or worse: blackout.
He turned wild, spun off-target by a t-bone collision of another fighter slamming his hull. Seams ripped, the hiss of air leaving the ship ominously sounded inside the cockpit. Spinning wild he came around and centered onto the Osiris. The torpedo monitor lit up, and showed a torpedo was away, making a sweep by, a second one was launched. Little to no effect, coming from a fighter-grade torpedo. All the same, he came around and made a second pass. Midway into the strike, he saw the collision coming, a Corsair bomber like a hammer from above. His smaller vessel sent reeling as stabilizers begun to fail and engines flickered and sputtered. The hiss became a roar as he scrambled to put his pressure helmet on. With a locking snap, he grabbed the stick and pulled the ship around.
A lucid moment seems to pass from the cockpit's camera, the sun in sight beyond the front of the Corsair-controlled Osiris, a beautiful sight as any. The swirling asteroid fields in the distance, the eerie-green nebulae seeming to encroach as one might stare at them. A second passes, and then the full fury of the Osiris guns turn on the severely damaged fighter. The camera fizzles and breaks free as the ship's hull splits and tears. Munitions explode as the engines break wild and roar forward into the distance before exploding. The cockpit camera flounders around wildly as it continues to transmit the last moments of the tiny fighter's demise.
Silence, a gut-wrenching silence as any is what space offers to the audio recorder. The camera bumps through the wreckage of the former fighter, spun wildly as the blur of a fighter or bomer blows by, guns roaring. As it slows, one can see the carnage of the battle, an utter massacre as Zoners vessels hopelessly make a defiant stand to protect their home, their Free-Port. A safe haven turned into a hellish war zone. Debris from capital vessels and fighters slowly swirled like their asteroid cousins across the system, a grim mockery of the price of any fool's war.
The camera flickers, a low-power light comes on before it shuts down and reads a singular message before the transmission is cut.
Zoners Guard Pilot: Izii Helfari, K.I.A.
>>>End recording, transmission sent to Sparta Guard Station, commanding personnel.
My honest reaction upon reading the forums, whenever I rarely do. Joe Kucan, he's the man.
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