>>5276520“I get that everything’s going to shit, where am I needed.” With some frustration you say.
“Here.” He says tossing a box of tools at you. “Lines from here.” He says pointing his finger. “To there.” He finished, pointing out a goo chunk of the now exposed wall. “Time to roll up your sleeves and get to work, cap.”
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(POV shift: You are Lord-Commander Marc Ahsing, an officer under the command of Knight-Captain Fergus “Ghoul” Proenza.)
Your Vigilance burns as fast as it can, going straight past the engagement on your port. The sickening number of spacecrafts across the battle had been cut down to less than one third of their original size, but that is a small salve on the damage wrought by them. The tactical display in front of you showcases a Raider, commanded by your good friend Giacomo, be brought low by a thousand cuts, the overwhelming firepower of the bomber wings finally bringing him down. You can only hope that he had survived the battle. What little solace you can find comes from the fact that most of them are annihilated by the AS ships.
What worries you the most however, is the presence of Lady-Captain Rasia Alpizar, her carrier had just been ripped in half, whilst another defender was brought low by the spacecraft. Two Raiders and one Guardian will not have to face down the full firepower of the Aggressor.
Worse news still, your Captain’s ship is crippled, cascading failures and internal detonations are rocking his Timur without end. Your engineers inform that there is a strong chance of critical failure.
With those depressing thoughts in mind, you watch as the crude collection of hab blocks once again fires off their oversized and monstrous M.A.G. cannon. But as always, pirates cannot be relied upon for their discipline and competence, as another rolling brownout, the cannon itself rocking back and forth is all they get for their efforts in attempting to fire such a beast of a cannon.
“Gunnery, forward M.A.G. cannons are to aim for that battleship M.A.G. cannon. Show the pirates how to aim.” You give out the order. You do not let it show, but your back is covered in cold sweat upon your captain’s chair. The entire fight had rattled you, but you cannot fail your comrades, not now, not when all of this is nearly over.
The two fired off rounds sail true. The crew surrounding the battleship cannon, upon noticing your approach had begun to scramble and run as fast as they can, but their bulky spacesuits do not allow for the agility needed for this endeavour. Striking true, the two rounds rip the cannon apart, causing detonations upon the hull, men are blasted to smithereens, chunks of flesh, mixed with metals and plastics are all that remain of most of the pirates. Those lucky ones, or perhaps unlucky, die from piercing shrapnel wounds, tearing their suits apart, imbedding deeply into their bodies, causing massive blood loss, the dismemberment of limbs.
