They'll Never Take Our Freedom!
Well, it's my last day in this office: WOO-HOO! :D
Most people are out at a team meeting and I'm clearing off my desk and fileshare. It's quite amazing how much stuff is in here. For instance, bits and bobs jotted down after the Jovian Chronicles game I started running in Loughborough. Apologies to Graeme, Pete and Ed for this one...
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...Smith's the last through the door, hollering in the direction of the bridge 'Agi, get us the fuck out of here!' as the airlock cycles closed. By the time he's made it into the captain's chair the Orpheus is moving clear of Slumbering Eidolon's dock. The sensors paint a bleak picture. Up ahead is the Jovian cruiser Constantine, her big-bore particle cannon coming to bear on the research platform. There's a flash from her deck as her fighter detachment launches.
'Pathfinders,' Triela breathes, staring at the sensors.
'Try not to salivate on the screen,' Smith retorts. 'Spider, what's the platform doing?'
Spider pushes his shades back onto his forehead and examines his display screen, one hand holding a headphone over his right ear. 'They're launching Exos. Looks like three... no, four Syreens. Main turrets on the platform going for the Constantine... oh shit, one of the Syreens is breaking this way. Looks like they're gonna hit us too.'
Triela's already out of the door and heading for the cargo bay as fast as she can in the microgravity. It takes her less than a minute to climb into and power up her tiny Falconer exo-suit, another fifteen seconds to cycle the pressure hatch to get her into space, ten to get a vector from Spider on the Syreen.
The hostile Exo is jet-black and pushing twenty metres across, coming straight for the Orpheus, bearing down on the Scout-ship from dead ahead. Smith grins horribly. 'Agi, Spider, slave firing control to me. When we fire we're going to be power-off for a good twenty seconds. When the power comes back online I want sixteen degrees to starboard, five degrees up, and a firing solution, in that order. Ready... Go.' He stabs the launch button.
The railgun round sears through the vacuum a scant couple of metres from Triela as she lines up her first shot. The Orpheus' secret weapon strikes true, going clean through the Syreen's right shoulder-pod and blowing one of its missile mounts clean off. Triela follows it up, jinking to the right to avoid an incandescant bolt of laser energy as she squeezes the trigger of her rifle down. The first burst catches the Syreen's head, shattering its primary sensor cluster. Her second burst takes off one of its remass tanks before the weapon runs dry.
In the pitch darkness of the Orpheus' bridge, Spider's frantically running calculations on his datapad. Smith's one good eye is closed, waiting for the railgun to finish charging.
Triela discards the empty rifle, burning her thrusters hard and spinning left to avoid another burst from the Syreen's ACLDS. She comes past it, deftly maneuvering around the torrent of laser-fire to slash across the huge Exo-Armour with her plasma lance. As she passes under its shattered arm she reaches up, grabbing onto the remnants of the right shoulder and using it to swing her momentum up. She comes down on its shoulders, stabbing down into the body with the lance.
The lights come back on in the bridge. Smith's eye snaps open as Agi re-angles the ship's bow and Spider punches equations into the fire-control system. 'Triela,' he says quietly, calmly, 'You may want to move a bit, girl.'
Triela brings the Falconer's legs under her, pushes off the stricken Exo with all her strength as she guns the engine. Below her, the Orpheus' second railgun shot hits the Syreen centre-mass, obliterating the crew compartment and blowing the Exo clean in half...
-----------
Chances are this Blog could get busy today as I find other random stuff to post about... ;)
Countdown: 58 days until next NL holiday. :D
Most people are out at a team meeting and I'm clearing off my desk and fileshare. It's quite amazing how much stuff is in here. For instance, bits and bobs jotted down after the Jovian Chronicles game I started running in Loughborough. Apologies to Graeme, Pete and Ed for this one...
-----------
...Smith's the last through the door, hollering in the direction of the bridge 'Agi, get us the fuck out of here!' as the airlock cycles closed. By the time he's made it into the captain's chair the Orpheus is moving clear of Slumbering Eidolon's dock. The sensors paint a bleak picture. Up ahead is the Jovian cruiser Constantine, her big-bore particle cannon coming to bear on the research platform. There's a flash from her deck as her fighter detachment launches.
'Pathfinders,' Triela breathes, staring at the sensors.
'Try not to salivate on the screen,' Smith retorts. 'Spider, what's the platform doing?'
Spider pushes his shades back onto his forehead and examines his display screen, one hand holding a headphone over his right ear. 'They're launching Exos. Looks like three... no, four Syreens. Main turrets on the platform going for the Constantine... oh shit, one of the Syreens is breaking this way. Looks like they're gonna hit us too.'
Triela's already out of the door and heading for the cargo bay as fast as she can in the microgravity. It takes her less than a minute to climb into and power up her tiny Falconer exo-suit, another fifteen seconds to cycle the pressure hatch to get her into space, ten to get a vector from Spider on the Syreen.
The hostile Exo is jet-black and pushing twenty metres across, coming straight for the Orpheus, bearing down on the Scout-ship from dead ahead. Smith grins horribly. 'Agi, Spider, slave firing control to me. When we fire we're going to be power-off for a good twenty seconds. When the power comes back online I want sixteen degrees to starboard, five degrees up, and a firing solution, in that order. Ready... Go.' He stabs the launch button.
The railgun round sears through the vacuum a scant couple of metres from Triela as she lines up her first shot. The Orpheus' secret weapon strikes true, going clean through the Syreen's right shoulder-pod and blowing one of its missile mounts clean off. Triela follows it up, jinking to the right to avoid an incandescant bolt of laser energy as she squeezes the trigger of her rifle down. The first burst catches the Syreen's head, shattering its primary sensor cluster. Her second burst takes off one of its remass tanks before the weapon runs dry.
In the pitch darkness of the Orpheus' bridge, Spider's frantically running calculations on his datapad. Smith's one good eye is closed, waiting for the railgun to finish charging.
Triela discards the empty rifle, burning her thrusters hard and spinning left to avoid another burst from the Syreen's ACLDS. She comes past it, deftly maneuvering around the torrent of laser-fire to slash across the huge Exo-Armour with her plasma lance. As she passes under its shattered arm she reaches up, grabbing onto the remnants of the right shoulder and using it to swing her momentum up. She comes down on its shoulders, stabbing down into the body with the lance.
The lights come back on in the bridge. Smith's eye snaps open as Agi re-angles the ship's bow and Spider punches equations into the fire-control system. 'Triela,' he says quietly, calmly, 'You may want to move a bit, girl.'
Triela brings the Falconer's legs under her, pushes off the stricken Exo with all her strength as she guns the engine. Below her, the Orpheus' second railgun shot hits the Syreen centre-mass, obliterating the crew compartment and blowing the Exo clean in half...
-----------
Chances are this Blog could get busy today as I find other random stuff to post about... ;)
Countdown: 58 days until next NL holiday. :D
posted by Union Jackal at 9:43 am
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