Custo sat in the neophytes dorm of the Alacanta Orphanarium. His Challenge would begin soon. Despite being drilled on the Corsair virtues of Dignity, Fearlessness and Honour by Senor Sonez he was scared. Very scared.
He had reached his thirteenth birthday and would have to begin the Corsair Challenge immediately. He had had friends who hadnt returned from the challenge, they had been commented on by their tutors as gifted.
They had known they would pass, almost taking it for granted that they would - but they had been swallowed by the void, destroyed the the Challenge that took so many. They had not returned. Few did and they were the strongest or most talented of their cadres. Sometimes the wrecks of the lost floated back to Crete, or patrols would find pockets of wreckage scattered among the asteroids. At any rate survivors were never found if the neophyte was gone for more than a day.
It was a daunting and a seemingly impossible task that loomed before Custo: Bring back an alien artifact from the radioactive Malvada field, a forsaken place infested by the Bounty Hunter horde who had the burning desire to tear the Corsair Empire limb from limb in the name of credits and the deadly raiders pilots in the bars talked about in hushed voices, malevolent and evil creatures known as Nomads. His teachers has disciplined him when he asked of them and had only received the cryptic message: Beware of the threat from within.
The task was a terrifying one. With his designated craft unshielded from the radiation, and numerous enemies hungering for his blood, Custo knew he had a slim chance of survival, he also knew his friends were more confident than him, and his teachers had lectured him on the importance of confidence. It could pull you through when skill abandoned you.
The walls shook as a Titan launched from a nearby port, sending cascades of dust from the ceiling and sending a shuddering rumble rolling down the corridor. Every single hermano and hermana who resided in the dorms wanted to be a Titan pilot, it was a life ambition. Gunboat captains had a legendary reputation and the cruiser commanders the children never saw had reached the dizzying heights of godhood amongst the orphans and abandoned.
Custo longed to be one such of the Titan pilots that could roar off the planet and explore the ranging depths of space at will. He would have to pass the Challenge first. A Corsair pilot would soon knock on the dorm door and call Custo to the hanger
Distant footstep rang down the hallway, Custo flinching with every booming echo. The Door swung open. A young Corsair stood in the doorway. He still wore his flight jacket and must have been fresh from space. He had the look of a veteran pilot who had weathered the fires of combat many a time.
Custo Benitez, you have been called. Follow me. The pilot beckoned to him to follow him quickly.
That was Custos blessing that would curse him. His name, his heritage, his life itself. He bore the name of the noble Benitez familia and if he survived the Mavalda fields perils and brought back a prized alien artifact he would have to pass a harder and more brutal challenge upon his eighteenth birthday, if he passed he would be accepted as a Benitez by his kinsmen, and if he failed
The pilot promptly about turned and marched off. Custo leapt off his bed, surprised by the pilots sudden departure and scurried after him. Halfway down the corridor Custo caught up with him, and fell into line behind him. Together they hurried through the maze of streets and passages of Cretes capital before finally emerging in a cavernous space hollowed from the mountain ranges the city had been hacked out of.
It was the hanger. Spacecraft lined the walls: Heavy search and destroy patrols consisting of Titans, and lighter reconnaissance patrols consisting of Decurions and Legionnires designed to punch deep into colony space to raid and disrupt. Pilots milled around chatting as they waited for their squads to arrive or their vessel to be refuelled and repaired. Here Custos guide stopped and knelt down next to him.
Little hermano, today you shall take the Challenge. If you pass you shall become a man, if you fail you shall not return at all. This test is necessary, you understand? I get the feeling you shall pass, I see it in your eyes. If you pass, I shall fly alongside you someday.
Custo stared at his feet too embarrassed to reply. The pilot slapped him on the back, and with a firm hand on his shoulder propelled him towards the waiting Elder.
The Elder stared down on the tiny form that stood before him. A fire burnt in his eyes, a mercilessness forged in the heat of battle.
Child, today you shall take the mantel of a pilot, a warrior of the Corsair Empire. You shall take the craft assigned to you and bring back a trophy. If you succeed I will meet you back here. If not
He let the sentence hang in the air. Custo screwed up his eyes and tried not to cry. The Elder lent over to him and whispered in his ear, I remember when I took the Challenge. You will some day as well.
Custo again was too embarrassed to speak coherently but stuttered a quick Gracius, and fired off a sloppy salute. Another pilot stepped out and placed a flight helmet on Custos head, adjusted the straps before standing back like an artist admiring his work. It fitted perfectly. With the world around him now tinted a blackish colour by the helmets visor Custo was led to a waiting ship.
It was a Legionnaire. The cockpit slid open with the hiss of well maintained hydraulics. There were scorch marks where certain parts of equipment had been hacked off, such as (and most worryingly) the shield relay unit. He clambered into the pilots seat and flicked the ignition switch. Flight control squawked as his engines purred into life.
He read the diagnostics from the on-board computer which displayed that all systems were green for launch. He shut his eyes and let the memories of lessons in the sim-pods wash over him. This was it. All personnel were clear. Launch. The Legionnaire gracefully edged out of the hanger mouth and roared away into the heavens.
Custos Legionnaire was parked outside the Crete docking ring. He was just out of the way of any vessel that wanted to dock but still close enough to set of proximity alarms on passing ships. A pilot buzzed him angrily. Jerked back to reality Custo flicked the thrusters switch and burned away from the ring.
Grinding to a halt a few K's away, he killed his engines and absorbed the view around him. Space, real open space. He had seen pictures taken by roving patrols but had never left the terrestrial confines of Crete itself. He was awestruck, a never-ending patchwork of stars and nebulae were stretched out before him. He glanced down at his dashboard and ran another full-ship diagnostics. It wasnt too bad. Yeah right
Communications sabotaged so he could receive but not transmit, shields gone and a few Borroco pulse weapons and Angelito MkIs. Old stuff for small ships- those weapons wouldnt help him if a Nomad or Bounty Hunter took a passing interest in him. Thinking of Nomads and Bounty Hunters, he had better get on with the Challenge.
The Malvada field hung in front of him, green and maleovent. Well, the ground crew had done their best to ensure he didnt survive, hed best set off. Damn Challenge.
The fear crept back into Custos heart as he thought about what he faced; his hands began to shake as panic set in as the realisation he was proberly going to die gripped him. He slammed his eyes shut and concentrated on remembering everything he could about his ship, its stats and its loadout. He calmed himself down again and engaged the Cruise engines. The G-force kicked in as the engines flared into life, squashing Custo down and back into his seat. The Legionnaire accelerated away, taking Custo closer and closer to the place he dreaded most.
The cloud was drawing near. Docking control watched the small blip that represented him dissapear with a sense of sorrow. He had almost reached its destination. The atmosphere was tense. No neophytes had passed the Challenge recently. Pass rates were slowing up - they were hoping Custo would pull through.
Custo weaved through the asteroids nimbly. That was the ONLY advantage of being in a Legionnaire. It could turn on a dime and he would have to use every ounce of its natural grace and speed to either outrun, or avoid enemies.
He slipped out the way of an asteroid that was floating towards him. He was starting to enjoy himself, however something was nagging at him in the back of his mind but he couldnt remember what He ran a scan on his surroundings. That dreaded symbol greeted him for his troubles - radiation. The ship was un-shielded in a radiation zone. Soon he would succumb to radiation poisoning. He would have to make this quick.
Several jet black ships jumped into Gamma. They were unmarked, the area was completely silent. They were making no noise that would give away their position.
This is hunter squad Alpha-Bravo-Foxtrot. Reporting to base. The transmission was encoded so only the receiver would hear it. Crete control wouldnt have heard them.
Alpha-Bravo squadron this is base. What is your status, over.
We have bogey on radar, requesting permission to engage. Target is flying a Legionnaire class vessel- Corsair tagged. Scans shows it is on the verge of being sent to the wreckers yard.
Alpha-Bravo squadron, you have permission to engage, base over and out. Perfect silence reigned again and the wing of jet black fighters coasted forward.
Custo was starting to feel drowsey and his mind was wandering. The radiation was starting to take its toll. His arms were starting to feel like blocks of lead; ironicly if they had been blocks of lead he could have used them as a radiation shields.
The Legionnaire continued to weave forward through the minefield of asteroids, heading towards the centre of the cloud, the Destination. He would be there in a few minuets if he kept his current course and remained at cruise velocity. He ran another scan on the area for hostile ships. It turned up blank. Nothing as of yet.
Destination 10K Destination. There was a strange hole, like a tear in reality sitting under the waypoint. Custo had heard of them - jump holes. He ran a scan through it to see if it was phase aligned.
Proximity alerts were suddenly set off, screaming at Custo to move. He gunned the engines flicking the thrusters on and about turning to face the threat. It was a skeleton of a ship floating towards him A wreck. A dead ship, with an equally dead pilot. It had been mauled, holes torn in its hull and weapons mountings torn off by the impact of some terrible weapon. It had been disfigured to the point Custo couldnt recognise its ship class.
He ran a scan on it. His heart sank to his boots. It was Corsair aligned, or rather had been, a Legionnaire- a testing ship alike his own. He ran another scan on the surroundings searching for more of them. There was another. And another! He swore - there were hundreds! He was in a ship graveyard! He prepped the guns on his ship for action. There were too many dead ships around here, whatever killed them might have still been lurking.
Alpha-Bravo squadron, this is wing leader, copy. Five acknowledgement signals appeared on Wing Leaders dashboard. Were moving in for the attack, Niles move from the side, Jones from above, the rest of you with me. Wait till he re-engages cruise engines then disrupt him. If he tries to jump through the hole, space im. Over and out.
All six ships of the Bounty Hunter wing had their engines killed in strategic locations around Custo. If he so much as jettisoned a square centimetre of oxygen, they would see.
Wing Leader hated the cloud. Full of radiation and aliens. Frigging aliens! The only reason he was even in system was because of the bounty. It was a biiiig bounty. Money over morals every time and that was why they were going for the little Legionnaire instead of the Titan patrols that frequented the area.
---
Custo had the distinct feeling he was being watched. He got a lock on a asteroid and blew it to pieces, scanned the debris and retargeted another. After another pain-staking two minuets he got what he was looking for. Artifacts.
They had been released from the asteroid and were spinning away from him. He quickly smashed the tractor button and felt the ship jump as it was sucked into his cargo bay. He had the artifact, now he only had to make it home, but radar was picking up anomalies. He swore again and slammed the ship into cruise mode, waiting for the engines to charge, praying they would be ready in time. He set a waypoint for Crete and hoped to hell they werent looking for him.
Sir! We have hostiles inbound! Its them aliens! What are your orders?! The voice seemed panicky, it had seen what Nomads could do to ships. And their pilots.
Pilot, hold your ground! Remember the bounty? I want to get paid! He watched the Legionnaire wheel around as he detected the Nomad wing and engaged cruise engines. Ok Nile, get up behind him, make sure he dont detect you
The jet black fighter known as Nile slipped forward as the flame at the rear of Custos engines blossomed into a furnace and accelerated him away. Disrupt NOW!
---
Missile incoming! Where the hell had they come from? The disruptor impacted and threw Custo forward as the craft decelerated. Suddenly bright lances of energy were raining down on him as six fighters roared out at him as if from no-where.
Custo initiated thrusters and blasted towards the cover of some nearby asteroids. The Nomads he had detected where still on an intercept course as well. First nothing then bounty hunters and Nomads! The fear began to blossom inside him again, and only the crackle of discharging energy caused by a close shot woke him from his comatose.
He twisted the between the asteroids, praying he would lose them. They were keeping pace easily and continued to take pot-shots at him. They nearly had lock Suddenly one of the fighters exploded in a ball on nuclear energy, blue pulses ripping through the mercenarys hull. The other fighters peeled off and took evasive measures. The Nomads had arrived
Man down, man down! I repeat man down! We have fecking Nomad hostiles! The voice was terrified, his wingman had been reduced to dust in a matter of seconds. He pulled the ship round to face the new hostiles. They flew purple organic ships, armed with weapons that spat pure death. He strafed one emptying his entier arsenal of missiles on the ship.
As the smoke cleared it remained un-harmed, its hull rippling slightly. It jinked the side and obliterated the ignorant fool that had dared to fire on it. The mans screams could be heard over the comms channels as his ship burned out.
---
Custo saw another fighter explode and his wingmen hopelessly embroiled in a fight to the dath with the other Nomads. He saw his chance and reactivated his cruise engines. A Nomad broke of from its engagement and fired on Custos fleeing craft, tearing a wing from his hull. Warning signals flared all over the ship as power systems tried to compensate for lost relays.
Cruise engines activated, the ship gathered momentum and sped away from the battlefield, leaving the Bounty Hunters to their fate. He breached the field and saw Crete beckoning, he was going home! But he felt weak, maybe he should just go to sleep and go back some other time No! He must get back, get to the infirmary before the radiation killed him.
Another warning rune flashed across the HUD, the ship was depressurising! He had to get to Crete now! He strapped his re-breather mask on as the oxygen became thinner. Now the hull could be heard groaning and popping under strain. With flames trailing he made it to Crete and docked. The Legionnaire gratefully dropped through the docking ring and glided into the atmosphere. The engines gently coasted the ship towards the planet. Another warning rune appeared, before fading. The ever calm nav-computer spoke, ach of it's words carrying a heavy weight.
"Imminent engine failure, brace for shock."
There was a second more of tortured screaming from the engines before a small cough, and silence. He was still far above the plains of Crete. He began to fall, gathering speed until he resembled a meteorite in the night sky.
He activated thrusters in a last ditch attempt to slow himself down before impact. It reduced his speed but caused the tiny Legionnaire to spin wildly. He finally crashed, sending up a huge plume of smoke and dust from the crash zone. There was no way anyone could have survived a fall that far. The noise died away and the blaring sirens homed in.
There was a faint beeping noise. And cold It was cold. Custo couldnt open his eyes or move his limbs. Where the hell was he? He summoned all his energy and opened his eye only to be blinded by harsh strip lighting above him.
He clamped his eye shut again and let the darkness heal his burning retina. He heard footsteps walking towards him, echoing. He must be in a large area. The footsteps stopped by him. There was a tapping noise, like someone working on a keyboard followed by a mechanical hissing noise and a brief flash of red-hot pain as something metallic was retracted from his wrist.
Warmth flooded back into his body and the cold waves retreated back up his arms. He tried moving his arm but only managed to twitch his fingers. A firm hand gripped him by the shoulders and pulled his upright. Custos eye snapped open and on pure reflex he screamed and punched the thing holding him. As the haze cleared from his vision, Custo saw a Corsair medic staggering back holding the bridge of his nose where he had just hit him.
How had he got to the infirmary? Where had he been last? The fall Holy Crete! The fall! How had he survived that!? He jumped up and looked down; he was wearing a light blue gown, the sort worn by surgical patients. Surgery? There was something wrong with his sight. He clapped his hand to his face and screamed. He crumpled to the floor as the medic ran over.
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