Snippet #2039451

Aboard the Altamus Corporation Freighter Summerwind

"We've been ignoring all hails like you said Mr. Brown but..." Petty Officer Crane was hesitant to speak his mind to the mercenary. The Captain had retired to quarters almost as soon as the pirates attacked. Lieutenant Barnes followed soon after only leaving a standing order of "stay the course". Mr. Brown showed up when his ship was damaged and took command of both the Summerwind and the Centurion. He really wasn't a bad guy just the way he did things unnerved the rest of the crew but since he was the only one on either ship that had flown in combat he was their temporary war-time Admiral.

"Call me Cronos kid, what's up?"

"Another hail sir, with the go-phrase."

Cronos sat up in the Captain's chair and snubbed out his cigar. "Patch that shit through Crane."

Tartarus HQ Actual. Status of mission and personnel. Over.

Petty Officer Crane send reply code and following message; "Mission wipe, need auxiliary vessels to complete. Cronos. Summerwind 44-973." He paused thinking that was a pretty concise message almost Captainly . Crane typed in the message and sent it. "Do you think that was enough, sir? I mean to say it was vague." Crane regretted being so frank with the man, Cronos scared him; they all did.

"You gotta be cloudy cause if you are all "yea a whole fuck-ton of pirates are trying to take cargo worth trillions and all our ships are either crippled or destroyed." you know what happens? More pirates show up and that's fine; the Federation out there is cleaning house but if mercs show up with their own battle cruiser or two. That's a whole other plate of curry, ya dig?" Cronos sat back and went to relight his cigar, remembering it was smashed he fetched another out of his pocket and lit it.

"We're getting a scrambled hail from someone called Zig-Zag aboard the Queen Gertrude? Is that familiar to you sir?"

Cronos laughed. "Yea patch it through. We got friends coming." He cleared his throat and took a puff of his cigar. "Zig-Zag you fuck, you coming to save our asses?"

My understanding is that you got ghosted like academy burnouts. Fact on that? The woman's voice coming through the speakers was garbled from buffering to forty different communication hubs to prevent triangulation but still held a command sternness.

"Yea we were flying five S ladies and just two multi-gun frigates dropped by to say hi. We took one out but we lost everyone but Ronin and me."

Dry your eyes baby, Dirty Gertie is coming to help. Unless you joined the Fed now? We just got a lock-message saying you guys need help. We're ETA forty minutes.

He ashed his cigar. "Ronin is aboard the Federation ship. She must have told them to send it, I've been keeping radio silence so anybody with ears on doesn't know how bad it is. I haven't seen Gertie in a while, she taking us -"

Crane raised his hand shushed him. Cronos shut up. Ballsy move from a weasel of a kid. "Federation hail coming through with go-phrase. Advise?" Was Ronin on the bridge? He figured she would be in some damn Federation quarantine for thirty plus hours. Shocking developments. "Gertie hold please, we got the Fed calling. Patch them through Petty Officer.

Altamus vessel Summerwind, Summerwind, this is the Salient, what is your status? I repeat, what is your status?

"Alta-Corp Vessel Summerwind, we read you Salient. We're undamaged but in need of an escort, which I'm getting covered as we speak; one of our carriers the Queen Gertrude. Our protocols keep comms clear during combat unless it's a trusted source, we weren't ignoring you. You just didn't have the magic word. Tell Ronin thanks for looking out and thanks to you guys for taking out the trash. We'll be underway as soon as our escort arrives if you can stick around until then. Summerwind, out."

You getting Federation body guards? Must be nice to have friends in high places.

"We don't discriminate. Cronos, out."

The man sighed. He needed a drink. Crane removed his headset and turned towards him. "Cronos, sir. This ship that's coming, you said to the Salient it's a carrier. What does it carry, troops?" The Petty Officer wasn't really in the fleet, he was an Alta-Corp employee that worked in a network server room. Crane was given the rank of Petty Officer because that's what a board of Human Resources Directors figured his job translated to based on the fleet system. He was no more a Petty Officer than a security guard was really police. Cronos sighed.

"The Dirty Gertie carries two hundred and forty four fighters, she carries death. We're getting home safe kid, bet on that."