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~ Princess Irulan, Dune It had taken them a long time to get this far. For some of the newer recruits, it had only been a few weeks since they'd taken up the glorious pirate cause. For most, it had been months, remembering their time as small fry, scuttling amongst the desolate sectors of the Belt, with no mobile suits and barely a single ship to speak of. For Riley, it had been years. Decades. A lifetime of work, all being drawn into the singularity of this one day. This final operation. Samuel didn't even really know what he would do after this day. Would he attack another Jove fleet? Perhaps overthrow the entire goddamn empire, and set up his own nation, lording over the fat of the land like a rich and embellished hog. Or perhaps he would leave, use the immense resources of the Jupitoris to travel outside the known solar system, and colonize a new god damned planet. Perhaps Saturn could be named Planet Riley. Or perhaps he would simply die trying, like he should have so many times before. All of these were acceptable options, so long as his name was engraved into the heart of every Jove, something that caused their hairs to stand on end. Something parents would tell to little children in order to make them behave. Eat your greens little one, or the Wraith will come and get you after the lights go out. Riley sat within his mobile suit and mused. His speech had already been given. The attack plans had already been drawn. Everything was prepared, and every sullen dreg of humanity at his disposal would do their job. And they would do it with ernest, for if they didn't, they knew what would become of them. Riley was even wearing his spacesuit for this occasion. The idea of appearing on stage without his finery sickened him, but this day had to go right. It simply had to. He would not leave a single iota of the operation to chance this time. Old Riley was no longer gambling. He was starting a war. Next to the custom painted Rick Dom, the huge Val Varo sat, a pinnacle of Zeonic engineering. Numbers was doing what he did best inside the cockpit, reviewing the trajectory calculations for the fleet over and over. He'd already done them on the ships computer, but simply waiting for the operation to begin was something Radcliffe could not do. Pencil and paper in hand, he ran over the math repeatedly, trying to absorb his mind in the mechanical stir of pure math. If something went wrong, he would likely be blamed, and Samuel was so focused, so incensed with this plot, he may well kill the entire crew, or self destruct every ship, or something equally life threatening. James wasn't really helping by doing these calculations for the thirtieth time, but it did help him from thinking such dire predictions. Robin Sayer grumbled, his Rick Dom on the other side of the great and mighty mobile armor. He had been called out, insulted by the captain in public. It was uncalled for, and Sayer was doing what he did best, being silently hurt, where no one would see. He was an excellent pirate, and deserved his position as the captains number 2. Riley would say that it should have been Addie, but Addie was no more, her corpse not more than dust encircling the planet Earth. They were far from Addie now. Yet, her ghost haunted Sayer, constantly showing him what he should be, what could have been. Perhaps things would be in reverse if he had died on that cross back on Earth and not her. Perhaps. The rest of the crew was slowing down, the whirling and burling of preparations and final words, the signing of wills, the secret prayers and wishes to their mothers that they hoped the rest wouldn't see. Garcia and Mutie were at the bridge of the Ghost, the two of them nearly legends of piloting ability themselves. Mutie was silent, eyes focused intently on a small white spec, smaller than a star in the distance. That was their destination, their final port of call. The captain had called it Never Never Land, and told Mutie the initial course was two stars to the right and straight on till morning. Radcliffe had later corrected him. But Mutie understood the captains way. Garcia was easily the busiest of all of them, coordinating numerous ships and teams as if he was the captain himself. The joke brewing in the holds of nearly every ship, brought by Federation defectors gained along with the Gwazine, was that most Federation vessels used female officers for the comm, and Garcia was the closest thing to a woman in the whole fleet. Garcia knew it was an insult, but he let those heathens be. He dined with the captain, and knew his place was much higher than theirs could ever hope to be. Amidst the rabble that was the mobile suit corps, Grimes looked at his shiny GM. He was one of the only ones that knew the Rick Doms were actually superior machines, but it wasn't as if he hadn't annoyed the bunch enough already. He wouldn't complain. He was more used to flying Federation units anyway. Climbing into his cockpit, he wondered what life as a pirate would be like, this far from the war. So far, little had changed, life as a soldier to life as a pirate. It was all the same, really. Finally, Jacobin Conroy and the remains of the Martians sat, long and sandpaper thin legs crossed in a tight circle amidst the handful of Gattles they were to ride as steeds. Each wore a spacesuit, their knives hanging across their stalky necks on long strings. Not a soul came within fifty paces of them, Gattle pilots truly afraid to get into their machines. For a while the Martians savagery had gone unnoticed, for it was never directed at fellow members of the crew. However, by now enough of the dregs had seen the inside of a ship after the Martians had cleaned it out. Shortly after the attack on Lighthouse, one of the new crewmen of the Lusty Mermaid was heard to say 'it's amazing how much a man can bleed.' Deep, drowsy blue eyes looked across each other, the communal bible being passed around. While other pirates hid their prayers from the world, ashamed of their secret beliefs in the divine, Jacobin and the Martians ignored the rest of existance, consorting with their faith as if it was a new bride, fresh within the honeymoon hotel. Soft whisperings came from the circle, the flirtations of prayer and song ritualistically preceding the Martian carnage. One by one, the pirate ships soared along, each showing huge flags, painted black with the emblem of Piracy, the Black Rocks laughing skull adorned upon the solar sail. Such a sight had never been seen before, and if luck would have it, not a single Jove would live to hear the tale. Or, Riley mused, perhaps one. If he left one, the stories could be begin to propagate, like an unrelenting weed. The fleets course would have them bisect the Jupiter Energy Fleet, slamming directly into it with no heed taken for sense or safety. Radcliffe had explained that there was a window in which the battle could occur, and no more than a single hour could be allowed. If they strayed from their course longer than that, they would be lost, unable to return to any of the settled planets and forced to wander the void, until fuel and food ran dry. As the minutes went by, that single speck that was Never Never Land became larger, turning into three specks, and then three ships, the huge Jupitoris class colony-ships towering nearly as large as space colonies in the distance. Their white solar sails were in fact larger than space colonies, looking like patches of atmosphere on a black backdrop, positioned ever so slightly at an angle in order to catch the suns rays and pull them towards the yellow globe at the same time. The entire scene harkened back to the days of sailing ships of old, the vessels on long transit between Europe and North America, and caught halfway. Rileys strategy even involved crossing the enemies T, a fact he'd made known on multiple occasions. The Salty Crow, Lusty Mermaid and Marauder were ahead of the main group by a considerable margin, skeleton crews having volunteered for this specific part of the plan. It was more dangerous than the rest, by far. The captains of the three mismatched ships were the first to catch a glimpse of the ship, almost at a dead stop amidst the void. It was perfectly arranged to completely bisect their attack route, something that couldn't have been a coincidence. A Federation issue Columbus Class transport sat there, five Zaku II's standing atop it in an X pattern with their arms crossed. Each Zaku wore a cloak, covering the mobile suit up to its head, the center Zaku sporting a long headspike, denoting a commanders status. On the cloaks were emblazoned large symbols, signatures that resembled the faces from a deck of cards. This phantom Columbus was directly in the Pirates way. The Wraith was summarily disturbed by a ping from his cockpit, Garcias flowery voice entering the sanctity of the captains musings. "Sir, there's an unidentified Columbus class ship between us and the Jove's. They're hailing us." Riley cocked an eyebrow. They hadn't raised minovsky particles quite yet. It would be futile with the speed in which they were traveling through the void, and they needed their radar to make any last second course corrections if the Jove's weren't on the predicted course. But the technology of the matter wasn't confusing Riley. It was more along the lines of who the fuck was crashing his party. "Some sea urchins got caught up with the tides I suppose. I'll take 'er in here, Garcia." Riley said. He took off his helmet, letting his tangled beard flow free in a show of intimidation. If he could have managed it, he'd find a way to present his cutlass to the viewscreen inside the cramped cockpit. The comm unit flipped on, but didn't show a man, merely a symbol of a heart, crossed by swords, a golden K atop it. "Who is this that's in th'way of the Wraiths heist, that won't show his face." Riley growled, putting as much venom into his words as he could. And as everyone this side of Mars knew, the Wraith contained a bottomless vault of venom within his scraggly surface. The response from the voice echoed in Rileys ears, sounding more like a legendary warrior from a Norse myth than a mortal human being. "Captain Riley, you and your ilk have transgressed too far. If you commit your heinous crime this day, the lives of billions in the Earth Sphere will suffer, their colonies without power to live and breathe. You have spread the stormcloud of warfare too far, and we, the Shuffle Domain are here to stop you." Samuel was taken aback. This was developing into something from one of his very own storybooks, but this hidden nemesis was a little too ridiculous even for him. For a moment he wished that this force defending the Joves had more power than a single ship, smaller than the smallest of his own. But alas, he would have to swat these presumed heroes down like the small fry they were. "Stop me?" He said, starting to laugh. "I welcome it with open arms you scoundrel. Face me in the void, if you dare." Riley said, cutting off the transmission. He immediately switched the link back to Garcia. "We'll be launching a mite early m'lad. Seems we have to subdue the schoolyard b'fore we can take down the neighborhood bully after all." While the many hangars of the pirate fleet began to open, slowly but surely unloading their cargo, the five mystery Zakus went into action. Blasting off the edge of the Columbus class ship, they rocketed straight for the Salty Crow and Marauder, flinging their cloaks aside and revealing a plethora of weaponry. On the units shoulders were those same emblems, resembling a King, Jack, Ace, Queen, and Joker from a deck of cards. The Zakus split up, encircling the Crow with a frightening speed, the verniers in the HMT Zakus legs on full tilt. The Jack blasted headlong through the ships solar sail, taking a Panzer Faust off its left leg and pointing it for the imperceptibly tiny latch holding the sail to the ship by a thin, yet sturdy cable. "JACK IN DIA!" The pilot yelled, the broadcast opened on all channels. He fired the missile, the unguided rocket moving straight for the tiny latch and striking it dead on. The pylons connecting different parts of the Crows sail were incinerated, and the bulky sail immediately started drifting away from the ship. "CLUB ACE!" The next Zaku pilot answered, his Zaku blasting towards the side of the Crow. On each of his Zakus forearms was a long custom made winch, twin chains unraveling and showing claws holding powered heat hawks at their ends. The Zaku grabbed onto both chains with its arms, twirling the two weapons like gigantic nunchuks in an impressive display before swinging, both latching onto the Crows side. The Zaku slammed on its thrusters, slowly but surely pulling the now sail-less Salty Crow directly into the path of the incoming Marauder. "QUEEN THE SPADE!" The third pilot yelled, her Zaku spinning as she flipped past the head of the Salty Crow. Armed with a Zaku shotgun in each hand, jury-rigged to be semi-automatic, she dropped two rounds into the Crows bridge, destroying the glass and killing the entire bridge crew. It would now be impossible for the ship to change course. "BLACK JOKER!" The fourth pilot said, his unit zipping around the two pirate vessels. Antiaircraft guns on the two ships were by this point alive, trying to keep the Zakus off the incoming ships. However, the Joker moved from gun to gun, landing single 90mm MMP-80 rounds into each, disablingg the Salty Crow and Marauders defenses. "KING OF HEARTS!" The commander added, blasting towards the Marauder. While the other Zakus were bedecked with guns of all shapes and sizes, this mobile suit only carried a Gouf Customs heat sword, and matching arm mounted 3-barrel machinegun. The gun fired, shells sailing into the Marauders bridge and rendering it blind. With the Club Aces two heat hawk grappling hooks pulling the two ships together, a collision was now unavoidable. The five Zakus blasted back between the two vessels, forming into a line while the two Interplanetary Transport Crafts smashed together in the background, exploding and accentuating the image. The entire group finished their chant. "WE ARE THE SHUFFLE DOMAIN!" The bridge of the Jupitoris was in the very center of the vessel, unlike most craft, which held the bridge prominently in the front of the ship. Decades of living on the rim of human settlement had molded the Jovians, and their craft, into something which was more alien than familiar. The bridge was a perfect circle, with only two entrances, one at the top and one at the bottom, leading to seperate decks. There were no obvious computer panels on the walls, instead the entire sphere was covered in viewscreens, displaying the void surrounding the entire ship, much like the Federations brand new spherical cockpits. Looking around one could see nothing but the cold void of space, stars on all sides, the lights of the growing fleet still small in the distance. You could barely make out the pirate standards atop their sails. Close to a dozen men, if you could call them men, floated about the sphere. The Jovians were so tall, so gangly, they barely looked human. Not a one of them had ever spent a single day of his life within the bounds of gravity, artificial or otherwise. Their muscles were atrophied, capable of projecting them throughout space and little else. Their necks were long, vertebrae having slight gaps between them. They were incredibly bendable, every one of them double jointed. Their heads were the most normal looking part of their bodies, but even they were somewhat elongated, scruffy white and blonde hair floating aimlessly throughout the sphere, tied down by nothing. Each of them had at their disposal a small, movable wireless data pad, perhaps three feet in length. The pads were completely touchscreen operated, and they played their instruments with the grace of the finest orchestra. Lights whirred and flashed across the screens, text moving effortlessly, the group inputting commands and speaking to each other in dull, emotionless voices as they traveled through the gaping void. "This was not predicted." One said, a hint of authority in his voice. He was older than the rest, perhaps the one in charge. "Have you obtained the aggressors biography?" He asked. "Albert Kirkland, orphan. Stole a TX-45C model freighter some time ago. There was an investigation." Another began. The voices of all of them were eerily identical. "Why weren't we notified? He has a prior history." The Jovian in charge asked. "Kirkland was lost, drifting the Belt. His return was not predicted." A third Jovian responded. "His new persona had only attacked Federation, Zeon and CMC. He was not designated a threat." A fourth added in. "What of his methods?" The man in charge asked the group again. Many of them worked furiously at their consoles, typing away, moving screens from one end of their displays to the next. They seemingly ignored their own positions inside the sphere, floating along and taking occasional glances at the fleet at their doorstep. "They infiltrate the vessel beforehand." One of the Jovians said. "They will plant bombs to slow us down. Then they will attack." Another added. "No outsider has ever boarded a Jupitoris without our prediction." Yet another added. "The predictions have failed us twice today, the probability of a third..." The first Jovian said. His hair had a slightly dark hue, differentiating him from the others. "Extremely low." Another added in. They nodded in agreement, and just then the sphere shook ever so slightly. The group furiously typed away, immediately finding the source of the disturbance. "An explosion, deck 35, compartment G." One said. "Our speed is dropping by 4%. Recalibration will take eleven minutes." Another added in. "The Musca reports identical damage. Pyxis does not." The dark haired Jovian specified. "They are splitting us apart. The attack will be on Pyxis." The Jovian in charge said. "What of the foreigners?" "They have destroyed two of Kirklands vessels." The chorus began again. "His mobile suits are chasing them away from a third." Another chimed in. "The third is on a colission course with Pyxis. It will go through the sail." The darker haired one said. "The sail will be destroyed whether or not Pyxis fires on the third." Came another monotone voice. "Kirkland has three score mobile suits. The foreigners will lose." Another Jovian replied. "We will assist with our own mobile suits." The older man in charge said. "Are Scirrocos Jupiter Zakus ready?" "They are." The darker haired one stated. "Give the new data to the prediction room. We will need a new prediction." The man in charge said. They continued discussing in this way, identical voices chiming in, the long and lithe men continuing on their mission, floating aimlessly in the spherical room, through the endless void. In the huge hangar bays of the three craft, mobile suits, Balls and Torieres began to launch, slowly but surely moving out of the giant ships and sailing towards the battle lines. The newer Jupiter Zakus were a site to see, as strange as the giant and thin beings that made up the Jupitoris's core crew. Barely a Zaku anymore, their legs had been carved away, four enormous rocket engines planted in their stead. The Zakus had had their arms redone, smaller and with more joints, each carrying a huge and frightening beam rifle. Dozens upon dozens of mobile suits blasted towards the battlefield, the units from the Volans and the Musca slowly adding to the group soaring from Pyxis. At the battlefield, the Shuffle Domain slowly backed away from the Mermaid, keeping an eye on the scores of Pirate craft heading directly their way. The main event would begin soon. "Ev'ry last one of you scoundrels keep those blistering bastards off th'Mermaid!" Riley yelled, his fake accent coming out and slurring his speech in anger. His Rick Dom II was literally at the spearpoint of an incredible number of mobile suits. The Shuffle Domain, flashy but not omnipotent, knew they were outmatched and rushed back. They would have to wait for Jovian reinforcements. Aboard Addie's Ghost, Garcia and Mutie were trying to coordinate some sort of counterattack. "Gunnery, could you be a dear and get a missile lock on that Columbus? I'd love it if those party crashers couldn't go home tonight." Garcia asked politely, tightening the neon pink bandana around his mousse covered hair. Mutie said very little, although this wasn't much of a change. His eyes were fixed on the prize, the Gwazines ornate wooden steering wheel locked tightly between his two hands. They'd jury-rigged an actual wheel themselves, of course. The pirate fleet locked a missile trajectory onto the Black Hand, and Chivvays and custom fitted missile bays on the Gwazine erupted, trails of exhaust flying for the Columbus. It wasn't moving very fast, and quickly leaving the scope of the battlefield. As the missiles flew, the King of Hearts saw their contrails, and raised a sword towards his ship. A single flare shot out of the Zakus arm, burning red across the void. The two launch bays of the COlumbus immediately opened, revealing a startling assortment of missiles. Like a beehive, the two huge canisters had been retrofitted into a gigantic MLRS system, devoid of actual hangar space. Rockets and micromissiles fired from the Black Hand, creating a thick cloud of suppressive fire, heading straight towards the pirates incoming barrage. The two clouds of rockets collided, a fireworks display commencing that could be seen well past the actual battlefield. The Black Hand would be impossible to take down with missiles, and was too far away to attack with the main guns already. Huge numbers of mobile suits from the three Jupitoris were en route, and would very soon be able to reinforce the Shuffle Domain. Riley knew this, and knew he had to keep the two groups split up. And after their show of bravado and disrespect, he knew he needed to handle this personally, to maintain his honor and his creed. "Numbers, Sayer, Grimes! We'll go after those flashy bilge rats ahead. Ev'ryone else, follow the plan and take care of the JOve's!" "Roger that captain." Grimes said, pulling out of his position in the middle of the line and heading towards the front. The Val Varo and Rick Dom II's blasted ahead, Grimes and his GM a short ways behind. The other pirate mobile suits all made a quick left turn, heading into the cloud of Zaku II C's, F's and Jupiter Zakus that awaited them. Meanwhile, the Lusty Mermaid, completely undisturbed, made her way towards and into the Pyxis. The huge colony ship fired back, but its antiaircraft guns were designed to destroy small asteroids, not huge interplanetary ships. Hundreds of rounds struck the Mermaid, and indeed the ship was totally disabled by their fire, but it did little to stop the huge mass from completing its course. A warped and marred freighter still came crashing through Pyxis's sail, ripping the huge fabric apart at the seams, and then hurtled straight into the bow of the Jupitoris. The two ships turned and cracked with the impact, locked together like conjoined twins, metal sparking and slicing together. After a few seconds it was impossible to tell where one ship began and the other ended. Pyxis's sail began to float away, the ship turning away from the battlefield, literally pushed by the Mermaids momentum. With no sail and a giant mass of metal stuck to its bow, it was impossible for the Jupitoris to remain on course. A team of Rileys Zakus escorting Gattles began moving straight for the humongous vessel. "What of the new prediction." The bridge crew of the Pyxis was very similar to that of the Volans, elongated bodies and monotone voices floating about a circular room. "They will attempt to board. We must shoot down the Gattles." A voice echoed through the chamber. "Their boarding crews contain Martians. Their fighting prowess is well known." Another added. "We will be prepared." Another continued. As the Pyxis began slowly floating away from its sister ships, the pirate elite flew straight into the Shuffle Domain. Riley singled out his target immediately, firing two blasts from his shotgun towards the King of Hearts Zaku. The Zaku did a quick flip and boosted downwards, avoiding the blasts. Riley growled, charging forwards and using his Rick Doms superior speed to close the gap immediately. The two locked swords, twin heat sabers pressed against each other, red hot with anger. Twirling around in a circle, the two mobile suits shot away for a moment, only to embrace in the dance of swordplay once again. Sayer moved to get Rileys opponent from behind, but a heat hawk on a chain swirled out of nowhere, Sayer barely able to dodge and avoid the loss of his Rick Doms head. He turned, the Club Ace watching him from above, twirling the two winch mounted heat hawks, one in either arm. He lashed one out, then the other, the weapons quickly unwinding to attack and then winding back into the Zakus grasp. Sayer circled upwards, his Rick Dom II flying at an impressive speed, trying to get into one of the Zakus blind spots. He fired bazooka rounds at the ninja-like Zaku, but it was able to dodge the incoming rounds. Grimes began to tangle with the Black Joker, the two circling around each other, teasing with a handful of machinegun rounds apiece. The Zaku II HMT had more raw speed, but the GM was better rounded, and Grimes knew well the abilities of his craft. The Shuffle member tried to close the distance, where his puncher shield and machinegun-mounted grenade would be lethal, but Grimes kept moving back, spraying off short bursts of vulcan fire to keep the range at one where his GM would be superior. He blocked a handful of rounds with his units large shield, returned fire, and did his best to simply hold off a better skilled attacker by utilizing his machines inherrant advantages. The Val Varo, enormous amidst the insects dancing around it, was tackled by both the Jack in Dia and Queen the Spade. Radcliffe tried to end the battle early, firing two custom retrofitted missile launchers ordnance towards the attackers. Missiles swirled and danced, still effectively locking onto their targets in the light minovsky environment of the void. The Jack in Dia hid behind the Queen, whose twin shotguns were effectively able to shoot the missiles down before they reached their targets. The two Shufflers split apart at the last moment, forcing the final missiles to deviate and accidentally hit each other. Coming out of a yellow ball of fire, the Shuffle Domain assaulted the Val Varo, bazooka and shotgun rounds crunching across its hide. Radcliffe was undeterred, picking up speed and turning around while doing so, moving in one direction and firing MPCs in another like a Saberfish fighter. Riley was slowly but surely able to push his opponent back. These pilots were expertly skilled to be sure, but their technology was lacking. Zaku II HMTs were 3 months out of date, while Rileys Rick Dom II was state of the art. Using customized head vulcans and his torso-mounted scattering beam gun, he forced the King of Hearts into a temporary retreat. Firing shotgun rounds after him for good measure, Riley chuckled. Their opening had certainly been impressive, but these dogs bark was worse than their bite. Looking to his left, he watched as his fleet, formed into a line of battle, slowly began to cut straight across the two Jove vessels in the rear, seperating them from the Pyxis. "Their trajectory is mapped." The dark haired man aboard the Volans stated flatly. "They will strike from between Pyxis and ourselves." Another added. The Jupitoris bridge crew was working frantically, elongated fingers running across their floating consoles. "Musca has found an alternate course. It will be able to fly around." Another said. "We are too close to follow Musca's course." Added another. "We will distract Kirkland. He will not predict this." The Jovian in charge declared. There was a murmuring amidst the rest of them, but slowly they began to agree. As the pirate fleet started to cut across the Volans T, batteries already pivoted for a devastating broadside attack, the Volans' sail began to detract, nuclear pulse engines in the rear beginning a full burn, using much more fuel than safety standards would permit. The Jupitoris was actually gaining speed. "Mnnm! NNNNM NNNNNNNNM!" Mutie squirmed, pointing with eyes wide at the advancing ship. Garcia wasn't really sure what he was saying, but he seemed worried, and a worried Mutie was not a good thing. However, Garcia had a dozen other things to be doing, and was feeling quite understaffed. "Alright darlings, you've got enemy MS advancing from points C3, 4, 5 and 6. We'll be giving you support fire from the fleet at 5 and 6, so try to only engage 3 and 4, okay?" He said, watching numerous displays and trying to keep track of everythings position. He felt like a walking, talking computer. "What in Davy Jones' are you talkin' about!" One of the pirates yelled back through the comm system. "We ain't no blasted corporate mil'tary, what th'fuck d'those numbers mean ya damn chutney ferret!" Another yelled. "Uhm, don't move left." Garcia answered, blushing. Antiaircraft batteries from the entire pirate fleet, as well as their self defense group of Balls, all fired streams of flak on a set trajectory, designed to push the Jovian forces into a disadvantageous position. A response stream came from the Musca, less severe but sailing across from below the Jovian attack force. Two or three of the pirate MS did not move in time and were destroyed, but these were acceptable losses, they hadn't read the flight plan anyway. The rest of the combatants were pushed up and to the right, slowly being corraled together where they would begin their battle, like gladiators forced to face each other in the arena. All kinds of Zakus darted up and down, circling each other and beginning the ferocious dance. 120mm tracer rounds lit up the void, arcing to and fro inside the cloud of multicolored death. At first the Jovian forces looked to be at an advantage, better organized and drilled, and settled in a much more strategic formation. Expert comptrollers inside the Jove fleet arranged small ambushes and micromanaged the display, minovsky particle interference still low this far out into deep space. However, it wasn't long before the superior skill of the pirates, and the superior technology of their machines showed true. Rick Doms blasted through enemy lines, the Jovian Zakus unable to match their speed and armor. Giant bazooka rounds clove old model Zaku II C's in twain. Gifted with much more combat experience on the whole, and spurned by their intense fear of captain Riley, the pirates slowly pushed the Jovians back, forcing them closer and closer towards the wall of flak that their fleets antiaircraft batteries eschewed forth. The carnage took the shape of a long semicircle, slowly bending and warping towards the Jovian fleet. At its left end, the pirates flak barrage slowly but surely pushed the line closer and closer to its enemies, while at the right, the Pyxis, comparatively dead in the water compared to her brethren, floated about an empty sea. Teams of Gattles, each with one or two Zakus circling it as support, moved straight down towards the humongous ship. An impressive number of AA batteries welcomed the fighters, Pyxis refusing to give up just yet, despite its disadvantageous position on the battlefield. Gerald Hogan, both the drill instructor for the pirate mobile suit teams, as well as the leader of the boarding party, was at the head of the line, his Gattle circling and ducking, spinning and making ever so slight course corrections, all intent on landing aside the enormous vessel. They wouldn't need to save any fuel, once they reached the enemy ship, they would be at their final destination. Zakus were caught by AA fire, exploding around the curiously shaped red fighters, but this diversion allowed the Gattles the breathing room they needed to make it to their mark. One by one, Gattles flew alongside the Pyxis, launching magnetized grappling hooks instead of missiles that latched on to the ships hull. Underneath each fighter, where normally the anti-ship missiles would be contained, there was a large canister. The Gattles slowly reeled in their lines, pulling closer and closer to the ship till the canisters connected with the Pyxis's starboard hull. "Well, told ol' Sayer this idea wouldn't work, guess I'mma owe'em drinks now." Hogan said, spitting on the floor of his cockpit with a harumph. There wasn't much left for him to do now but wait, and hope to god that his boys were causing enough of a distraction that nobody would come after them like this. The Gattle started to shake, ever so lightly, as the men within the canister went about their work. "God, I'm always glad when those freaks'r on somebody elses ship." Hogan muttered. He looked up at the battlefield, wondering a bit about Grimes. He hoped the boy died, so he wouldn't have to deal with him again. Hoped he died, but also took enough of those bastards with him to win the day. It'd be nice if the GM came back in one piece, too. Hogan asked for a lot. After all, he was their drill instructor. Just a few meters away, strange noises were coming from the bulkhead outside the corridoor within Pyxis's hull. A few crewmembers stopped and watched, confused, when the red glow of welding torches started cutting through the outer hull. The pirates were beginning to board. One maintenance worker picked up a phone, talking with a scared and startled voice. "They have boarded, deck eleven block twenty four." One of the monotone floating Jovians said, within the Pyxis's spherical bridge. "It is as predicted." Another one of the elongated Jovians answered. "Countermeasures are already prepared." Came another voice, answering the hymn. Square doors cut into the outer hull of the ship were kicked in, and team after team, heavily armed pirates in normal suits rushed into the cooridoor, the boarding party consisting of at least fifty souls. One, a short but shapely woman equipped with a standard issue Zeon assault rifle, held up her hand. The teams all stopped. She took off her helmet, shaking her head and allowing long auburn hair to float delicately through the zero gravity ship. Fritter inspected the corridoor, looking at ship blueprints laid out on a HUD attached to her wrist to figure out exactly where they were. Behind her, a half dozen men, each fully seven feet tall, moved out onto the deck. Eyes practically glowing behind their ghastly masks, they formed up around Fritter and her men, ducking and crouching, each with three limbs to the floor, the fourth holding a long and ornate knife right in front of their face, the cold steel contrasting the listless blue of their eyes. "Alright boys, lets go clear us out a ship." Fritter said, flipping the safety off of her rifle and chambering a round. "Amen.." Jacobin answered, he and his Martians dashing down the corridoor with lightning speed. "Message from the cap'n Mutie, he says to shoot that ship out of the water." Garcia said over his shoulder, telling Mutie something that he already knew. The lovable gimp mumbled in response, the mixture of emotions within him too complex to properly explain. The Volans was going to crash straight through the fleet soon, if something wasn't done to stop them. The Pirate fleet was arranged in line, Addies Ghost at the head, followed by Sonja, then Kraken and Captain Flint, and finally Ol' Jove's Bones. All of the ships with mega particle cannons at the fore, guns aimed directly at the enemy Jupitoris. The remaining transports at the back of the line were unarmed, but the Jove's didn't know this, hopefully. Addie's Ghost was now completely perpindicular to the Volans, the absolute perfect firing position a Gwazine could possibly be in. Mutie flipped a switch on his console, sending a signal to the gunnery crews aboard the pirate fleet. Batteries upon batteries of MPCs fired over and over, enormous lances of pink energy slicing into the enemy ship. But a Jupitoris class spacecraft is a monster, and it took more than a simple broadside to deter it from its destination. The Volans trudged on, now riddled with holes and leaking atmosphere, oxygen and smoke billowing out of it as if it were some sort of downed zeppelin, about to crash face first upon the shore. The fleet fired again, marking Volans with another set of holes. But it kept coming. Garcia watched with awe, forgetting himself for a moment. The Jove's ship simply could not be stopped. "Sweet mother of reggae..." He mumbled, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead and soaking into his bright bandana. "Repeat, this is xkkgkkss Jove's Bones, enemy mobile su-kkxkxkkzschhshsskk for our position, we need backup." The distress call put Garcia's mind back in its proper place, and he looked back at his displays. Seven or eight of the enemy Zakus had broken through the defense line, and were heading for the Bones. And they were moving much faster than a Zaku ought to move. "Sawyer unit, this is Garcia, enemy HMT Zakus have broken through, they're moving for the Ghost real fast. I need you to pursue." He said, his voice a little bit higher than usual. "Those ain't no HMT's miss Garcia, they've got some blimey new Jove' model with beam weapons, cut straight through my boys. But we'll get 'em for ye' all the same." One of the pirates answered. A number of Zakus pulled off the attack line, pursuing the enemy models. "Beam weapons.. Oh god, not the Bones. Please, not the Bones." Garcia said, clenching the collar of his shirt and frozen with worry. The Jupiter Zakus darted around, their powerful rear thrusters easily able to outpace even the Bones' expert antiaircraft gunners. A handful of Balls and three or four Zaku C types, the fleets rear guard, moved to counter the enemy advance. However, the pilots inside the new model Zakus were the Jovians best, and their performance equalled a Rick Dom in maneuverability and speed. The frankenstinian mobile suits assaulted the pirate guard, cutting through Balls and Zakus alike and quickly making it to the Bones. Armed with powerful beam weapons, the ancient freighter was as good as dead. The pirate unit in pursuit was almost there, but their F type Zakus were simply unable to keep up with the high performance Jovian models. Jupiter Zakus zipped around the Bones, firing beams through critical positions in the ships hull. After a few quick circles, the reactor was pierced, Ol' Jove's Bones going up in a tremendous fireball. Her story had finally ended. "We have destroyed Kirklands freighter." The dark haired Jovian aboard Volans bridge stated. "Scirrocos models perform to the predictions." Another voice answered. The ship shuddered again, yet another pirate broadside eating into the fore of the ship. "They will destroy each ship in turn." The commanding Jovian said, nodding with approval. "We can survive until then." Another Jovian said. "An enemy wing is in pursuit." The dark haired Jovian responded. He was frantically typing at his floating console, moving a bit faster than the rest. "The predictions state our victory is secured." Came the response. The dark haired Jovian didn't look so sure. Elsewhere, a solemn captain Riley stopped for a moment, watching his pride and joy, the Bones, go up in flames. The Jovians had actually managed to increase his rage, by denying him the one thing that was left of his past. But he would pay them back in kind. Oh how they would pay. "Do you think you have time to look away during our fight?" The ominous voice echoed into his cockpit. In the next instant, the King of Hearts Zaku crashed into Riley, drop kicking his Rick Dom II through the void. It was as if the man could feel the Wraiths very thoughts. Riley did not return the banter. He was in the foulest of moods. Kicking the powerful thrusters on his custom unit into overdrive, the Wraith shot away from the King of Hearts, dodging machinegun rounds and returning fire with his shotgun. A well placed salvo was blocked by the Zakus arm, shredding its forearm machinegun. The King of Hearts returned with vulcan fire, but Riley was faster, blasting around the enemy Zaku in a circle. Whipping the coup de grace off the Rick Dom II's shoulder, Riley came at his enemy from behind, quickly wrapping a chain mine around the Zakus frame, trapping it within a cage of explosives. Radcliffe continued his battle with his two enemies, the Jack in Dia and Queen the Space buzzing around James' mobile armor with an unwavering tenacity. Bazooka and shotgun rounds tore through the Val Varo's hide, but Radcliffes custom retrofitting to his mobile armor, bulky steel plating and expended missile canisters, kept the damage from being two severe. Turreted beam guns shot back at the aggressors, but the two Shufflers were faster than expected. James would have to use his secret weapon to defeat enemies of this skill. As the two Zakus moved over the top of the Val Varo and tried to attack its more vulnerable cockpit, Radcliffe quickly flipped his unit around on its back. A pair of small, grenadelike orbs shot out of the red mobile armor, launching a spray of superconductive material in all directions. Both the Jack in Dia and Queen the Spade, not suspecting such a devious attack, were caught in the leaders field, and a huge electrical discharge brought the old model Zakus to a halt. Radcliffe shot his mobile armor forwards and then turned it around, beam weapons ready to destroy his two opponents. Robin Sayer was having less luck than his compatriots, the Club Ace equally able to attack both at a distance and in close range. Although his weaponry seemed improvised, the two winch mounted heat hawks were deadly weapons. Swinging them around in quick circles again and again, Sayer was unable to close range, and at a distance his bazooka rounds were always clear and easy to dodge. The Ace was slowly besting him. Sayer gritted his teeth, knowing he had to beat this opponent in order to save face with the captain. He decided that he would call the Club Aces bluff, and see if he couldn't create a more advantageous situation for himself. Putting his bazooka back on its storage rack, Sayer blasted forwards, MMP-80 in hand. The heat hawks sliced out, but a quick dodge by the Rick Dom II evaded the first of the weapons. Knowing he couldn't dodge the second, Sayer raised his units left arm, allowing the heat hawk to smash into the Rick Doms elbow. Knowing it would take a few seconds for the older weapon to penetrate the Rick Dom II's armor, Sayer continued to press forwards, stopping straight in front of the Club Ace and blasting his scattering beam gun. The enemy Shuffle member was dazzled, and in that moment Sayers vulcans and MMP-80 were aimed, and poised for the kill. Grimes was having the worst of it, much of his fuel expended and now completely unable to stop the Black Jokers advance. The Joker had fired his grenade, a near miss barely catching the GMs left foot. Grimes fired off the last of his machinegun rounds and, now unable to fight at long range, knew he only had one trick up his sleeve. Blocking a hail of machinegun shells with his shield, his GM grasped its beam saber and blasted towards the attacking Zaku. The Black Joker answered in kind, throwing its machinegun aside and sailing forwards, heat hawk and puncher shield in hand. Grimes knew he only had one chance to make this work. Before the two mobile suits collided, Grimes threw his GMs shield at the attacker, the Black Joker ducking to evade the incoming missile. In that instant, Grimes reached back behind his GM, pulling a second beam saber off that he literally had duct taped to his units back. The GMs first saber slammed into the Zakus heat hawk, but the second saber blazed to life, swishing around and threatening to cut the Black Joker in twain. But in that instant, something incredible happened. As if defying the laws of physics, the enemy Zaku began to glow, sparkling with an energy that seemed to come only from the void. The Shuffle Domain members Zaku was suddenly able to move in ways Zakus cannot move, and with a speed and grace unnatural for such a low quality mobile suit. It flipped backwards in a circle, narrowly dodging the second heat saber, and returned the blow, easily cutting Grimes GM in two. His mobile suit exploded, ending the pirate aces life before he even knew what had happened. At that moment, similar miracles happened across the battlefield. The Club Ace's glowing heat hawk sliced through the arm to Sayers Rick Dom much faster than it rightly should have, and machinegun and vulcan rounds seemed to bounce harmlessly off the Zakus glowing hide, which turned from a rusty green to a sparkling gold. The Jack in Dia and Queen the Spade were suddenly able to break free of the plasma leaders, avoiding the incoming beams from the Val Varo, and redoubling their attack with increased speed. And just before Rileys chain mine went off, the Kick of Hearts Zaku began its golden glow as well. The enemy unit tore its bonds off, heat sword slashing through the chain mine and causing it to explode harmlessly away from the Zakus hide. "It takes more than that to defeat the Shuffle Domain!" The King of Hearts yelled, brandishing his shining golden saber at Riley's Rick Dom. While the Shuffle Domain battled the leaders of the pirate crew, the two opposing fleets continued to move straight towards each other, like enormous balls in a game of pool, moving in slow motion on an unstoppable course. The Volans, massive and daunting, was a few dozen kilometers from Addies Ghost now. A long days travel on foot, but in deep space travel this was only a few moments away. Mutie gripped the Ghosts ornate wooden wheel that served as the helm tighter than he'd ever gripped anything in his life, eyes glued on the gigantic steel rock coming towards him, and damaged mouth stammering what little it could. Belch after belch of mega particles stormed out of the pirate fleet, cutting bit by bit into Volans tremendous hide. The ship was all but disabled already, but it still rode towards them, pure inertia throwing the beast at its target. They had to hit something critical in just the right way, a reactor, H3 storage tanks, something that would cause the Jupitoris to explode, new momentum pushing it away and around the fleet. Garcia had stopped his duties by now, ignoring the repeated requests for assistance at the comm, garbled cries for help. Reinforcements had mopped up the Jupiter Zakus before they managed to do any more damage, although they had failed to save Ol' Jove's Bones. The main forces were pushing the Jovians away now, and scattered units were even coming to the assistance of Riley, Sayer and Radcliffe. This was all foreign to Garcia, who could only see the monstrous beast heading towards them, trailing red and black smoke, the Jupitoris class Volans. It was as if the very hand of god were about to swat them down, crash them on the shore like a small reef skipper in a violent storm. But Mutie's expression turned from abject terror to one of excitement as the final volley landed, striking straight into the heart of the beast. A rumbling could be heard from all sectors of the Jupitoris, which shook for a few seconds before the central fusion reactor destabilized. The resulting explosion was akin to a solar flare, blinding the entire battlefield and causing everything to stop momentarily. Huge pieces of ship flew in all directions, some darting away from the battlefield, while others shot towards the pirate fleet with redoubled speed. Mutie shrieked, throwing a hard left on the helm, the Ghost lurching to one side with all the grace of a drugged rhinocerous. A huge piece of debris, easily the size of a Salamis class ship, narrowly missed the Gwazine, striking the Captain Flint behind her. The Chivvay exploded outright, another casualty in the battle that would sorely be missed. "Dear God." Garcia said, looking at Mutie with renewed admiration. The gimp had kept his cool, and they had won a game of chicken with the largest ship in the entire solar system. Mutie got little credit aboard the ship, for he was quiet both by personality and by genetics. However, from this day on, not a single man would ever speak poorly of the boy, nor would any dare claim that Mutie was incapable of handling a ship because of his condition. Fritter and Jacobin speeded like demons through the winding passageways of the ship, moving slowly but surely into larger and larger cooridoors, venturing in not so straight a line towards the heart of the beast. They met few people along their way, word had gotten out ahead of them that the ship had been boarded, and non combat personnel for the most part had evacuated to the far side of the ship. But those that hadn't were dead faster than they could wish they had left, Jacobins dagger and Fritters rifle putting an end to them cleanly and succinctly. There were a few dozen of them, Martians and Guerrillas, and it seemed they could not be stopped. The team turned a corridoor, a huge and bright room striking them blind and confused, gunfire from its far end forcing them back into the hall. Jacobin peaked out for a moment, taking better stock of the situation before sliding back, barely avoiding the huge bullets that panged out against the hallway wall. The Jovians personal defense force had gathered here, in the large and easily defensible technical laboratory. But they were not staggered behind upturned tables or other pieces of cover, these men were in plain view. Each was covered head to toe in a huge mechanical device, more a power armor than a normal suit, small wings on its back sputtering fuel to keep the ungainly things balanced. The suits had a single red, demonic eye, and carried machineguns large enough to make a Panzergrenadier doubt himself. There were eight of them, and behind them was a single Depagg mobile gun carrier. How they got one of those inside the lab was unknown, they must have built it inside the room in anticipation. The Depagg was blocking the exit, and it was only through this door could they reach the bridge. "We'll have to force our way in." Jacobin said, Fritter looking down at him with shock. It was rare indeed for the Martian to speak, and this did wonders to communicate the gravity of the situation to the men behind them. "Even a mobile suit has joints." He added, holding his long dagger firm. The Martians nodded, and two of them moved forward, making signs of the cross before gripping a grenade in each hand. The two brave men darted out into the corridoor, huge 20mm rounds tearing them apart, but not before they threw the charges at their opponents, taking steps forward through pure willpower to act as shields with their dying breaths. Jacobin and the rest of his team followed behind, pushing the corpses of their comrades forward, even after their lives had ended. The grenades cried out, explosions doing little damage to the Jovian defenders, but distracting them long enough for Fritter and her team to get into the lab, moving behind chairs and desks for cover and firing their rifles at the armored suits. The bullets pinged off harmlessly. Had Fritter known they would have been up against such a ridiculous opponent, she would have had anti-tank weaponry distributed to the boarding parties, but this was something that simply couldn't be expected. The remaining four Martians leapt to all sides of the lab, running across the ceiling and walls in the zero-gravity environment, expertly dodging hails of gatling fire coming from the Depagg. It had been modified with two gatlings, positioned over the walkers head like fangs. A normal Depagg required an exposed crewmember to fire its weapon, but this one did not. The armored suits recovered from their daze, Jovian men blasting forwards, verniers on the back of the armors giving them substantial thrust in zero G. Heavy machineguns tore through the desks and tables the pirates were using as cover, killing over a dozen men instantly. One Martian leapt out from a hidden location, dropkicking one armor and sending it barelling into one of its fellows. The two suits skidded along the ground, inertia throwing them into the far wall. When the pilots came-to, they noticed positional cameras showing C4 had already been planted along both armors by a second Martian, who happily pulled the trigger. Two of the eight were down. Fritter used the explosion to her advantage, popping up out of her position and firing her rifle into the rest of the suits. She struck one armor in a small vulnerable area between chest and head, the bullet piercing through the joint and striking the pilot inside in the face, killing him instantly. More pirate rifles managed to destroy the frontal camera on a fourth armor, disabling it. The pilot tore off his helmet, but was instantly killed by a hail of AK fire. The Depagg returned fire, gutting another ten or twelve pirates. If they did not defeat it soon there would be nobody left to gain control of the bridge. Dropping down from the cieling came Jacobin Conroy, landing on all fours on top of the Depagg, the walker shaking left and right to dislocate him, but to no avail. While the Martians and Fritters pirates pushed on the remaining four armored suits, Jacobin took his knife to the Depaggs entry hatch, reinforced Martian steel slowly but surely cutting through to the inside of the beast. After he had caused enough damage he sheathed his dagger between his teeth, powerful arms gripping the hatch and yanking it open like a can of sardines. He whipped a pistol out of its holster from his belt and fired three shots into the Depagg, its crew silenced. The walker had been stopped. Fritter and her men advanced on the remaining four armors, putting hundreds of AK-47 rounds into them, and trading four or five men for every one they managed to take down. Several bullets struck the auburn haired woman in the chest, and she dropped to her knees, still firing. Another armor was struck in that soft spot in its neck, and collapsed in a heap. Fritter, unable to breath, followed right behind it. They had been reduced to less than half of their former number, but the path to Pyxis's bridge was now laid bare. "Our defense team was not able to deter them." One man said, his monotone voice echoing across the ships circular bridge. "This too was not predicted. They defeated our walkers with rifles and knives." Said another. His voice changed pitch slightly, showing his surprise. The nearly robotic Jovians had become scared. "A report from the Musca. Volans distraction has allowed it to change course. Kirklands fleet will not be able to pursue." Said another. "They must send word to the Authority." Another responded. The stress on Authority made it sound more like their combined boss than the police, inter-system press or the military. "So the orphan can strike down two of our vessels, a third barely escaping." Said the Jovian in charge. He was brooding now, wondering just where the predictions had failed them. Or perhaps they had failed, relying too heavily on calculated and divined answers to questions unasked, and not enough on human experience. "What more should we have done?" He asked, looking out to the void, as if expecting an answer. The group had gone silent, their meditative conversation now pointless when the door to the bridge was blasted open, and Jacobin Conroy came dashing in, knife at the ready. Radcliffe lurched, another bazooka round smashing into the hardened shell of the Val Varo. The two combatants had gotten faster, less predictable, and were doing serious damage to his mobile armor. He'd managed to deflect any rounds going for the cockpit or the primary engines, but the secondary and tertiary systems were going out one after the other. He'd already missed with his second leader, already lost his AA batteries. All he had left were claws and the main cannon. The two Shuffle Domain members fighting him were slowly but surely running out of ammo. Radcliffe knew his strategy well, and made up for his slight lack of piloting experience with a deadly thought process. He had played defensively this entire time, using the Val Varos speed and sheer bulk to run the Jack in Dia and Queen the Spade out of ammo. The two looked at each other, linking up for a quick moment to communicate their new strategy, then dashing away as the red mobile armor came charging through them. The Jack in Dia shot up straight in front of James, pointing his twin bazookas straight at the Val Varos cockpit. Meanwhile, the other Shuffler, a grenade in each of his Zakus hands, snuck up behind the mobile armor. "Don't think you can trick me like that!" Radcliffe said, blasting straight at the Jack in Diamond, who was completely out of bazooka ammo at this point. Numbers had been taking careful stock, keeping track of every round fired, and he knew it was a ruse. Ignoring the Spade completely, the Val Varo lurched towards the spent Zaku, grabbing the Jack in Dia between two massive claws and tearing it in half. Elsewhere, Sayer was not quite as lucky, his fight with the Club Ace going very, very poorly. His Rick Dom Had lost both an arm and a leg now, and the bear of the belt was doing his best merely to stay alive amidst the onslaught before him. The golden Zaku's winch mounted weaponry swung and glided across the void, spinning in graceful arcs, coming down low and fast. Attacking his opponent was simply no longer an option, Sayer's full concentration was on avoiding the two dancing heat hawks. He was shocked when he saw the grenade floating towards him, barely evading in time. The Cracker exploded, and Sayer glanced an eye back at his opponent. While he had been swinging and spinning his blades, the Club Ace had dropped a number of grenades throughout the void, creating a minefield that Sayer would be unable to get out of. Robin fired his scattering beam gun again, but this time the distraction had no effect, the enemy no longer surprised by this last ditch maneuver. The two heat hawks swung out, Sayer pushing backwards and out of their range, but right into a floating grenade. The round exploded, shredding the back of the Rick Dom II. Sayer was thankful that his units primary thrusters were in its one remaining leg. He did his best to get away, and that's when he noticed the Black Joker coming straight for him. Finished with Grimes, the fourth Shuffle Domain member was coming to assist his comrade. However, volleys of machinegun and bazooka fire drew the Black Joker away. Just as one of the flying heat hawks connected with Sayers Rick Dom, the remaining pirate MS, having fought off the Joves, had returned to help their commanders. Sayer opened his cockpit and leapt out into the void, the heat hawk slicing his Rick Dom in twain. A Zaku II C zoomed past, scooping him up in its hands, while a number of oddly assorted Zakus and Doms pushed the two Shuffle Domain members away. The Club Ace shot out a blue signal flare, the other Shufflers seeing the signal and starting their retreat. They had tarried too long, and the Black Hand was now very, very far away. They all retreated, save one. Riley and the King of Hearts had been dueling for a while, sword against sword. Sparks flew as the red heat saber met the golden heat sword, the two mens wills colliding in what was the epitome of a civilized battle. Rileys rage drove him on, slashing with force and abandon, his keen eye not allowing his opponent to retreat. The King of Hearts knew he had to get back to his Columbus, but the Wraith would not let him go. He pulled him deeper, farther into the void, into that black cradle that Riley called home. Samuel screamed out in rage, slashing and thrusting his weapon towards his opponent, each strike narrowly blocked by the Zaku. While the Rick Doms arms were much more powerful than the antique Zaku, something kept the King of Hearts in the fight, some supernatural power. But Riley didn't care. He didn't realize they were drifting away from the fleet. All he knew was that this man had cost him the Bones, cost him what was left of his memories. For what good was it to gain the world, if you lost your very soul? The two continued their battle, slowly but surely drifting off, into the endless black of the void. The King of Hearts ducked his Zaku low, using its supernatural speed to catch Riley off guard. With one clean strike he cut off both of the Rick Dom II's legs, immobilizing the Wraith, and turned around. He had to make it back to the Black Hand, if he didn't go immediately he would be lost in the void, forever doomed to battle with the pirate king until their oxygen tanks ran dry. The Zaku blasted off towards the battlefield, but Riley, his eyes red with anger, dropped his final card onto the table. With all the precision he could muster he threw his heat saber, unable and unwilling to allow his enemy to escape. The red hot blade dove true through the black, catching the King of Hearts mobile suit straight in the cockpit. The Zaku tumbled, pierced and twitching like a harpooned whale, the force of the blow causing it to spin in circles and slowly dive back into the lifeless void. Riley had defeated his opponents. Samuel looked on, back at the battlefield. His thrusters were gone, the minovsky particle cloud was too thick for him to communicate with his men. He could barely see his fleet circling around Pyxis. They would take it in his name, but he knew even then that he was lost. He would never make it back to that world, his anger and rage having finally swallowed him whole. The Pyxis, and the pirate fleet, drifted slowly away from the lone Rick Dom II, Riley now enveloped by the void. Radcliffe barely landed the Val Varo on the deck of Addies Ghost, opening a channel with the bridge as soon as he was out of the M Particle cloud. "We can't find the captain!" Garcia yelled, his voice high pitched and filled with worry. "Mutie wants us to wait, he swears he's still out there." The effeminite man added. Mutie squealed out an affirmation. He knew, deep within his soul, that Riley had not been slain. "I.. I don't think we can stay much longer." Radcliffe said. He was doing the calculations already. They had already been longer than they'd planned, and used up more fuel than they could spare. Trying to slow down, or do any sort of recon to find Riley was a seriously dangerous idea. They risked losing everything and still not finding the man. "Mmmm!" Muti said. He almost took control of the ship himself, guiding it towards where he thought the captain was. But he knew they needed Radcliffe to plot a course, or they would all be swallowed up in the mouth of the void. "The captain's dead." Came a low voice, the bear walking onto the bridge. He'd arrived shortly before Radcliffe. "Those bastard Zakus got him along with Grimes." Mutie stammered. He knew it was not true, but he could not properly articulate the reason why. "Are you sure? We might be able to look for a few minutes.." Radcliffe was unsure of himself. "Best not to risk it. You know what the Wraith always said, you earn your keep or yer' out an airlock." Sayer answered. He was the second in command after all, but in this instance the crew was having trouble listening to him. Even the ghost of Riley commanded more respect than Sayer ever did. "Don't you fret Mutie, we'll give ol' Riley the grandest funeral a pirate could ever hope for." Sayer said, patting Mutie on the shoulder. Mutie shrugged off the hand, refusing to listen. But the decision had been made. It would take all of their concentration to move the Pyxis back to the right course. The fleet was badly damaged, and there were many wounded. Robin Sayer was the leader of the Black Rock Pirates now. However, as the days wound on, Sayer would find that his authority was never really considered in the way the Wraiths was. It wasn't that he was not feared, it was simply a lack of respect. The crew would only follow his will if it coincided with the will of captain Riley, or at least what the pirates percieved the Wraiths will to be. Samuel Riley was almost out of oxygen. He had been glad he wore his pilot suit for this battle, although he wondered how much longer he would last in this situation. The Rick Dom was still floating lifelessly, with barely enough thruster power for a few short seconds maneuvering on secondary verniers. When you were in this kind of situation, every drop of fuel mattered, because if a miracle were to arrive out of the black, you needed every drop of energy you had in order to take advantage of it. Rileys mind was swimming, oxygen deprivation slowly eating away at his muscles and his brain. He was already not the main he had been, two short days ago. The Wraith had died on the battlefield, as had Samuel Riley. He was Albert Kirkland once more, frail and old, with naught but memories of his older self. And those would fade fast, if the goddess of the void did not offer him a piece of driftwood, an anchor for his beleagered soul. But the goddess loved Kirkland, for he was indeed one of her most faithful children. Albert caught the blue gleam of the shuttlecraft, inching its way towards him, on a flight between Jupiter and Side 1. Albert hazily fired up the Rick Dom, his hands shaking with the cold. He had turned off the heating system several hours ago, using the liquid coolant in the radiator to augment the fuel in his secondary verniers tanks. It was not as clean, nor as effective a power source, but if it provided even one seconds additional thrust it would be worth it. The shuttle saw the legless Rick Dom, but did not stop, nor try to rescue its pilot, despite Kirklands flashes of an SOS, using the mono-eye to speak in morse code. They had already recieved warning that pirates were in the area, and suspected some sort of trap. Albert used his final remaining bits of fuel to dash his mobile suit towards the shuttle. Calculating the approach vector as best he could, he grabbed on to the thing, donning his spacesuits helmet and opening the cockpit. He grabbed his pistol and a bag of explosives he kept under his seat, in case of emergency. The passengers in the rear of the shuttle screamed as they heard the airlock door blown open, shots fired one after the other. There was a silence for a while after, and they didn't know who had been victorious, the pirate or the shuttle captain. At the front of the shuttle was a family, a man, woman and their small son. The pirate opened the door, blood splattered on the helmet to his flight suit. He waved a gun around. The father of the family got up and tried to fight him, and an example was made. His wife followed soon after. The rest of the passengers were docile now, having seen the two in the front murdered before their eyes, they would not act up. The little boy did not know what was going on. He did not understand. He tried not to cry, because it hurt. He just wondered where Earth was, that his mommy and daddy had talked so much about. Having lost the good part of his mind from oxygen deprivation, Kirkland would pilot this shuttle all the way to Shangrila and Side 1, where he would elude the authorities, making it into the bowels of the colony. Here he would live out his life, mustering the last of his good wits to record his memoirs. While his abilities and consciousness were all but gone, his memory remained, and it was enough to slate his thirst for the rest of his days. Albert Kirkland would die on Shangrila. Alone, but never forgotten. Samuel Riley - 12VP Gained, Fades into History James Radcliffe - 12VP Gained, Lost in the Void Robin Sayer - 12VP Gained, Lost in the Void Jacobin Conroy - 12CP Gained, Returns to Mars |