The mercenary fleet known as the Sword of Perseus found themselves in an unwinnable situation. Behind them was the station they were hired to protect, and in front of them were the marauders who wanted all the precious treasure inside - medical grade narcotics. And the marauders known as the Black
Lucifer sighed deeply as the battle raged on, and watched with trepidation as battle lines fired mercilessly at each other. Ze felt as though Perseus’ battle tacticians were playing by rules written by someone else. Someone who had likely fought a different kind of a war, in a different kind of er
“Hey mercs,” he said. “I know ExoCene Pharm pays you all a great deal to stick around and guard their vaults. But we’ve got a great need for their meds, so pretty please, get the hell out of our way.” Perseus’ captain was immediately incensed with his opponent, and retorted angrily. It was clear th
The Gorgon captain stood on the bridge, his mouth agape. He was utterly incredulous at being cut off, and anger slowly rose out of the surprise and confusion that he felt. It wasn’t just that he had been slighted, but that he had been so utterly dismissed. Whatever offense he had endured seemed to
The combined force caused their armor to collapse, and the second shot penetrated into the structure. “That was just two shells!” cried the Perseus captain. “And that was with our reinforcement module on maximum! We’ve gotta end this quickly before they tear us apart!” “Calm down,” chided Lucifer.
“Perforate their main thrusters as they pull away,” said Lucifer. “It’s like they want us to slice them apart. They’re practically begging for it.” Lucifer sighed deeply as ze pinpointed multiple strike zones on the destroyers’ main thrusters. The Perseus frigates were only too kind to follow hir o
The Marauder captain was completely dumbfounded as alerts dominated every screen on the bridge. It seemed that they were getting completely picked apart no matter what he did. Most of their guns were completely frozen, and their hangars were under severe attack. And he was in a major bind - if he r
“Status on the guns,” he said impatiently. “6 of 10 on the starboard have partial articulation again,” said an officer. “Other destroyers report between 3 and 7 similarly operational.” The captain grinned. “Switch all repairs to the port side guns,” he replied. “Then have our starboard fire at wi