Snippet #2255761

(The Ship): http://fc06.deviantart.net/fs51/f/2009/ ... Re4s3r.jpg

DESIGNATE: COMBAT FRIGATE UNIT, 'MIDDLEMAN,' FORMER PROPERTY OF THE NOW FALLEN STELLARSHIELD FORCES

APPROXIMATELY 0900 HOURS AFTER THE INVASION OF STRONGHAVEN.

SHIP IS CURRENTLY HURDLING THROUGH TOWARDS THE EDGE OF THE CH'TALLA SYSTEM AT HALF SPEEDS…


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The Middleman Starship was not in the most majestic of appearances, having survived at least two minor conflicts without a scratch on the poor vessel. That was before the attack on the once mighty planet at the center of the universe, and its military-police installation, Stronghaven. Little could be sent away to escape the destruction of the facilities, the death of their most esteemed personnel, and the conquest by the invaders, and the traitors that had been hidden among their special forces, the Cronos Corps, and its Titans, once revered for millennia for their armor, strength, and inability to move any direction but forward towards the enemy encampment with such an uncanny amount of willpower for any living creature.

The ship did well with the current optic camouflage giving it a slightly darker shade. It wasn't like a chameleon in that it could instantaneously turn invisible. It was much like the camouflage of any soldier that had to put on an entire uniform. One constant pattern that required the work of the soldier to truly be utilized properly. There were at least about two repeating plasma-gatlers, much like machine guns, only these could also serve the alternate function of charging and pooling its energies together into one, high power blast. As for explosives, there was one area that fired off regular missiles, of which, the crew of this particular vessel only possessed four of.

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Kanro was manning the controls, his eyes trained constantly on the infinite darkness and silver spots painted onto the sturdy screen before him. The blast shield had been raised up for the moment to better improve the camo index percentage on the ship's status-board, and protect against surprise attacks, leaving an exterior camera to give an immediate view, coupled with a scanner that could detect objects from miles away, within the upper thousands in most cases. But it always seemed that during a dog fight or some other situation, the device had its scanning power diminished.

What appeared to be a breeze seemed to flow through the little field of crops that seemed to be the Psionic's head of jet black hair, his telekinetic abilities running through his hair so he could keep his hands on the steering system and the consoles and panels surrounding it. Physically he looked awful, however. Despite his fairly well kept hair and his seemingly peak health body, his eyes possessed dark circles about them, nearly unblinking, and overall making it incredibly clear that this humanoid required rest, and fast. He'd exhausted himself using his telekinesis to fend off attackers back on the academy, and the time that passed after was spent staying alert, and keeping a cool head. Giving out orders to everyone.

He had the techies checking everything right down to every component (if he could have made them, the subatomic level even) to see what they could learn about the ship, and what needed fixing. One of the girls was to inventory the supplies, and another, the weapons. He was quite sure he asked that one girl, Indra, was it? to sit at the empty co-pilot's seat. Or maybe he'd requested that android to do it?

Regardless, he suddenly stopped, and let go of the controls, his telekinetic powers pressing a combination of buttons. Just moments before the attack, he'd learned how to use autopilot on a ship as complex as this.

With that done, he closed his eyes, keeping one hand on his holster, and the other, on the steering…