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The proceeding exchange of fire shows a rather pathetic performance. The spacecraft wings begin to falter under the sheer amount of fire delivered by your enclosing AS ships. Through the entire engagement, only a single frigate from Lashawn’s side is lost.
The fighting upon your starboard also goes heavily in your favour, with the last of the pirate frigates annihilated, the spacecraft wings dealing pitiful damage, although inflicting casualties on Alpizar’s own spacecraft forces.
The exchange between you and the heavy cruiser continues the same, but your light cruiser begins to creak and groan from the continued barrage.
“Captain. Forward facing armour plating on the verge of collapse. We need to pull back, now.” Calmly, but sternly informs you Tetreault.
Your hands are covered in sweat as another M.A.G. round, barely misses you. With the cruiser’s attention entirely upon you, one more exchange will see your Timur collapse from the sheer frontal assault.
“I am well aware, Tets !” You call out, not caring whether or not she likes the nickname. You are entirely in the zone, so to say. Your mind is entirely honed and dedicated to the task at hand, you exhibit concentration that pushed normal men to their limits, and perhaps beyond.
Meanwhile, through the thick of combat. Payat and Marc both had sent what shuttles they had to assist the pirates in their boarding action. [blue]If only Desmond that crippled Ox could actually lead those boarding actions.[/blue] You think to yourself with a moment of clarity.
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(POV shift: You are Gassur Lasasso, a marine under command of Lord-Commander Marc Ahsing.)
The shuttle banks hard to the starboard. You can feel your body being thrown to the side. You quickly catch the sight of another shuttle being melted through by a laser turret.
On your peripheral vision, you quickly notice one of your comrades make a sign of a cross, locked in private prayer as you are about to storm something none of you want to. To face cyborgs on their home turf.
A shudder goes through the shuttle, informing you that you had impacted the hull, your destination. The ramp swings downwards, revealing a scene of war in front of your eyes.
The new “recruits” the Captain had acquired are currently locked in a bloody tug of war with the pirate forces. Makeshift cover had been made in the form of boxes and crates. Platoons worth of men are currently engaged in warfare in a miniaturized war upon the Aggressor’s hull. Running down the ramp and looking around, you do not catch the sight of what you had dreaded the most. It seems like the cyborgs only ever come out when the ship’s interior itself is threatened.
