Outgunned

A

Aderas

Guest
Original poster
The Cardis Sector, home to over a dozen factions. A place where pocket wars define the existence of over half the population, while the other half are left in the relative obscurity, most lacking the technology to even get into space.

It's a place where people go to find fortune, lose it, and end up serving with one of the multiple factions, more often than not. In some rare cases, an outsider might make a name for themselves, acquire their own fleet, and eventually even found their own faction.

One such person was an up-and-coming Commander Teryn, a middle aged man with a decent sized fleet of ships. Having been stuck in the system for a couple of years, he'd gotten on the bad side of the local Hegemony authorities, but gained the favor of several of the independent corporations, for preying on both local Pirates, and the occasional Hegemony convoy; a true 'Robin Hood', some called him.

And, news was, he was recruiting. Getting contact with one of his recruiters was damn near impossible, of course, and when you did contact- or more likely, be contacted- one of them, you still had to convince them you were a good choice. After all, any old grunt could get picked up by a convoy bound for any old fleet, but to be a genuine Captain, that was something special.


Teryn's station was an old mess that he had been slowly refurbishing throughout the few years he had been in-system. The hangar was full of half-built (or half destroyed) ships, and the engineering teams were running around fixing, taking apart, and refitting them. The shuttles that had brought the half dozen Captain elects from around the system had departed, leaving them all in the chamber under a token guard presence, while the Station Captain was en route.
 
The woman with no name.

Skin as red as the Atmos sun with eyes greener than the lush Vienna forests of Lampkin. Taller than humans, she is a fierce, proud warrior with little words. It is taboo for a Synarri to leave their world; those that do are referred to as "The Banished."

Many have begun to call her Enid, the red blur. For three years, she has been aboard Commander Teryn's ship, often dealing with the "dirtier" missions that others would be deemed unfit for. As of now, Enid meditates in her quarters awaiting her next conquest.

-----

"Late again, I see." A rough voice shouted throughout the hall as the young cadet stood, shaking in her boots. It wasn't actually her fault that she was late, no. The other cadets thought it would be amusing to lock her in the bathroom as they were always looking for newer ways to make her life miserable. Her only chance of escape was through a small window near the ceiling which she used the sink as leverage to get through which resulted in a meek yelp and splash.

She stood there, covered in mud from head to toe as her sergeant continued to berate her for her lack of hygiene and timeliness while the others snickered quietly wishing to be anywhere but here. A tall man in a blue uniform with short blonde hair was watching from afar, he was surrounded by a few people who yapped on about who knows what with papers in their hands followed by pens being waved in the air. Even with a scar tracing his jawline, he was still incredibly handsome and she realized he was coming closer and if it weren't for the mud, her face would be redder than the Sergeant's neck. He stopped for a brief moment, looked her up and down and continued on his way leaving an incredibly confused girl in his wake.
 
"ATTENTION," shouts the Sergeant, rapping on the young cadet's arm with his gaff stick. "If Trainee Galleia is done gawking at civvies like a teenager in heat," he growls, pointing towards the number of Servicemen and women standing at attention down a hill, "We have an operation to commence!" They could see and hear everything, albeit with less clarity compared to those standing right next to the "Sarge" as they called him; his actual rank was that of Chief Petty Officer Melwinks, but 'Sarge' fit his personality better.

The Ensign Cadets were being trained by the Hegemony as part of a new recruitment drive, and this was their first war game; each was being given choice of a crew of twenty (Fifteen Crewmen and five Marines), and then they would man their ships; they were all very basic Frigates, armed with only an assault cannon and a dual MG, but possessed of high speeds. They had little armor, and no shields, making them dangerous, but effective harassment ships and scouts. They hadn't been told what their objective was, yet, only that they had to pick a crew, get to their ships, and ready up before launch.

The other Cadets, after a laugh at her expense, were already heading down the hill at a leisurely pace, wishing to appear commanding and authoritative to the low-caste Servicemen. The handsome stranger had wandered off into a shuttle, which was preparing to launch into the atmosphere; his purpose was unknown.
 
Cadet Melody Galleia.

Ever since the age of three, she dreamed of seeing the Universe the way her father described in his stories. He was once a member of the Peace Corp. A unit created to enforce the Universal Law designed by the Council; a group of thirteen who reside within the Cathedral of the Sun. When she was seven years old, her father left for a tour and he never returned. It was months before a tall dark man in uniform rang the buzzer, leaving both her and her mother in tears with his charred up wallet being the only thing remaining. Within it were a few photos of the three of them, edges torn here and there, that she kept in her pocket to this day.

At the age of seventeen, she enlisted like her father had done much to the disapproval of her mother and for the past six months, she's done her hardest to prove herself as worthy of being a pilot which hasn't gone well with the other cadets who also want to the best.

Lifting her left arm to her head, she shouted, "Sir, yes sir!" and totted off in an attempt to make it in the team at the very least.
 
The other Cadets were wandering between the ranks of those assembled; looking, no doubt, for the best arrayed crew. There was some diversity, ranging from a couple of Veteran crews, composed of old engineers and the like, to newer teams who were a bit fidgety and nervous. Some of the crews also had Marine attachments, who were standing off to the side of the crew itself.

The first crew that Melody approached was one of the younger teams. Apparently fresh out of Basic Training, they were almost all young men and women, with the exception of their handler, who was a disgruntled looking older woman. There were five Marines with them, fresh faced as well, but they held themselves much higher and didn't fidget.

The only other crews that hadn't been chosen yet were a Veteran crew, who were looking at the young cadets with disdain, and one crew that seemed to be a general mismatch of everything; some young engineers, a few older men and women, and ten Marines lounging around looking rather unofficial compared to the rest of the Marine stock.

'Sarge' was heading down the hill, and Melody probably knew that if she hadn't made her decision by the time he got there, she'd be reprimanded... again.