At Crossed Roads and Purposes

[Remy Lafleche]

There were few places in the Transitory Mists as notorious as the Knot Holes. Of the hyperspace routes that lead into and out of the Cluster, the quickest and most efficient of them collided in a tangle at the Knot. There were times when, at any given moment, a dozen or more ships might be moving through the narrow passage to safety and on to the Lorrell Route, which would guide them through the Lorelli Reach, the Rifle Worlds and at last to the Hapan Interior Region.

In his time with the Hapan Royal Navy, many years ago, Remy Lafleche had navigated the Mists more times than he could count. Crewing aboard a Battle Dragon, he had sailed the outer reaches of the Cluster, on guard for anyone who would threaten the safety and security of the Consortium.

Now, rather than following the markers that would guide him to safety, he lay in wait at the edge of the Knot. Stood aboard the bridge of a Beta cruiser, stolen long ago from the navy, he watched the ships sensor readouts. The cruiser had been attuned to ignore the persistent energy readings generated by the ionized clouds that made up the Mists. Instead, it’s sensor array was focussed on monitoring the signatures of approaching vessels.

At any moment, a trade vessel from the Lorelli Reach world of Andalia would enter the Knots as it made to leave the Cluster. His sources said that the Andalian’s had a shipment of exotic goods that were bound for beyond the Cluster’s edges. An arrangement with the Alliance, or something of the like. Whoever the customer was, they weren’t going to get their merchandise, at least not from the Andalians.

"Fighters are ready," said a voice to his left. "Forward guns are trained on the line out of Andalia."

Remy nodded acknowledgement, pleased. Just because they were pirates, didn't mean that they couldn't operate like a precise, military vessel. He looked up from the sensor readouts to the point of empty space where he was certain the Andalian freighter would appear.

[Mithra Sev'rata]

"Oh yesss.... this is verrrry nice."

A feminine chuckle echoed within the freighter's tightly packed cargo bay, the sound going uncollected by the monitoring devices the devious little thief had placed on a loop upon stowing away. Dock worker garments had been discarded and instead, Mercury stood amidst a variety of opened crates in her operations ensemble; a top (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/5e/f8/48/5ef8486c44fbaffebdb43e10b0618f52.jpg), pants (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/c6/35/cc/c635cc87f5394d6d76948fa95dd05bc5.jpg?b=t), boots (https://i.pinimg.com/564x/6c/9d/61/6c9d61f062647da131be9cff3318c60d.jpg), and a black leather mask covering her eyes overlaid with complex visogoggles of her own design. To top it off, she'd pulled one of the crates open with her tools and drawn forth a blue cloak fit for her Royal Highness, herself. She wrapped the smooth fabric around petite form and gave it a sassy swish.

"It is I, the Most Revered Ereneda..." She spoke authoritatively, flipping the cloak about again for good measure. "Off with his h- oof!" She was about to shout her order to her imaginary troupe of courtiers when an impact rocked the vessel. She tipped backwards, sinking bottom first into one of the crates she'd opened with a sudden, surprised exhalation. Mists abound, what was that?! She struggled in place for a moment, something sharp digging into her backside. Reaching beneath her, she dislodged something hidden beneath the now disorganized pile of cloaks.

A glittering gem the size of her palm made her eyes go wide, the resplendent piece shining like a chunk of polished quicksilver in her gloved fingers.

"Bingo..."

[Remy Lafleche]

“Hits on target,” called out a voice from the other side of the bridge. “Turbolasers striking true.”

“No return fire from the freighter,” chimed in a second, as Remy watched the Andalian’s ships shields flash and shimmer with each turbolaser impact.

“Hold on the concussion missiles. No sense wasting good ordanance when we might hamstring this one without them,” he said, clapping one of the bridge crew on the shoulder. “Hail and let them know we'll be taking their cargo or their lives.”

With that, Lafleche stalked towards the rear of the bridge and the turbolight that would carry him through into the stern of the ship. The Beta cruiser cut a broad, flat profile, it’s sloped wings concealing four-point defense lasers and the belly of the hangar bay that contained it’s single squadron of starfighters.

In little time at all, Remy Lafleche would find himself at the controls of one such starfighter. By then, he hoped the Andalian freighter would be limping it’s way to surrender.

[Mithra Sev'rata]

The Hapan woman sat in the crate, clinging to the gem she'd pilfered as the freighter jolted with what she could only assume was turbolaser fire. Damn, she knew this Andalian job was risky but how could her luck be so truly rotten? She needed a plan, one that ensured her escape with her shiny treasure tucked safely away [and her cloak intact]. She tugged the front of her shirt open and stashed the jewel in her cleavage, cooing down at it affectionately before rising from the crate. Escape pods were an option if there weren't any starfighters buzzing about outside to immediately shoot her down. She decided that the best course of action would be to check in with the crew and see what their plan was regarding the attack.

Sidling up to a control panel at the cargo bay's entryway, she slid a wire down from her goggles and attached it to a port she discovered upon dislodging the panel of the mainframe. She lowered her goggles and sliced her way into the bridge feed, enabling sound.

Incoming transmission from the Beta Cruiser, Captain.

Patch them through. And get those dorsal laser turrets back on line!

Mercury watched on with rapt interest, chewing on the ring centralized on her lower lip. The pirates, of course, required surrender and considering the shape of the freighter, it seemed the most likely course of action for the beleaguered crew to take. She could see through the feed and by extension the forward viewport that fighters had begun to surround the vessel. Double damn. She took to biting her thumb nail instead. Hide? Mists above, no! These were pirates, they could be a very thorough lot and a cute thing like her was sure to stand out. Think, think, think....

She gasped and flapped her hands, nearly dislodging the wire and her goggles. A small, heavily modified datapad was taken from one of her pockets and with a couple attachments applied, she rigged herself a very nifty frequency scanner. She dialed through various channels as the terms, or lack thereof, of surrender were discussed. She tapped into a starfighter's comms, praying to the stars that she was going to be speaking to someone with some kind of authority on the pirate end of things.

Before she spoke, she cycled through the on-board cameras.

"Hello there... Just thought you ought to know, they may be playing opossum right now but in about 30 seconds, those dorsal turrets are going to be operable. I know you don't know me and I surely do not know you, but I can give you a window of opportunity that will make boarding a breeze, if you'd like. I'm just a girl, looking to make it out of here with the fancy cloak I came for, you see?"

[Remy Lafleche]

The squadron of modified Miy’til starfighters, with the Hapan royal crest scorched away from their wings, swarmed toward the Andalian freighter. Turbolaser fire flew high above the cockpit canopy that Remy sat beneath, one hand on the steering yoke, the other tapping the command console. Suddenly, his earpiece crackled with an unfamiliar voice. Hapan and female, but not quite an Andalian accent. There was no other chatter on the line. The silence from the rest of the squadron spoke volumes: only he had received the strange communication.

Now, this is interesting. Remy eased off on the starfighter engine throttle and signalled to the rest of the squadron to do the same.

“Give me the window and I’ll guarantee no harm will come to a single thread of that cloak, madellé.”

[Mithra Sev'rata]

Authority, check. Dreamy voice, double check. Vague promises regarding the cloak and not her actual person, check again. She'd have to take it, though. There was hardly time to argue the semantics of his assurance with those dorsal turrets well on their way to being operational. Mercury folded her bottom lip between her teeth and chewed at the metal ring centralized there, adding a coupling to her already established connection and slicing deeper into the ship's mainframe. Her hand raised briefly to bring her goggles down over her eyes and the HUD within scrolled through the vast amounts of coding of the freighter's internal systems.

"Shields will be rerouted wholly to forward deflectors and I'm going to delay the turrets to give you enough of an opening to take them out. Once you've handled that, the ventral docking port will be clear. I probably don't need to say this but... I'd prefer you not blow up the cargo bay." She informed the pilot sweetly, her fingernails tapping against the screen rapidly. "Shields redirected. Turrets rebooting, about two minutes. Let's see what you can do..."

[Remy Lafleche]

There was a moment, longer than Remy would have liked, in which the Andalian freighters gun turrets began to swing towards the oncoming starfighter swarm. As the barrels lifted, the possibility that they had been double-crossed grew too - but no. They halted, and the readouts on Remy’s console began to show the freighters forward deflectors suddenly flashing with renewed power.

Remy smiled to himself. “I’ll be with you in a matter of minutes.” The Miy’til fighters surged forward, the squadron splitting in two and darting along either side of the freighters flank. While the Beta cruisers turbolaser fire hammered the forward shields, the starfighters rolled end over end, training cannon’s on the freighter’s unprotected stern.

“Any word?”

“They say the Royal Navy is on the way,” came the response from the Beta cruiser. “And that we can go fuck ourselves.”

Remy smirked. The attack had been timed to avoid naval patrols, but there might well be a Nova-class battle cruiser on route now, assuming the freighter had been able to send a comm through the notoriously disruptive Mists.

“Boarding party to the ventral docking port," Remy said, broadcasting to the fighter squadron once more.

"Madellé, if you are still listening, I’d appreciate any assistance in keeping this matter from the attention of her majesty’s blue coats.”

With that, he swung his fighter towards the port, nose down, and prepared for a hot landing.