The faint hum of static filled the vocal channel. It was only for a split second. Silence would return quickly, but as if on some rhythmic cue the faint hum would return. Again, it only last a few moment. *ClickClickStsssss*
“CHANGE YOUR FUCKING UP KEY, MILLER. YOU LAZY SONVABITCH.” While Ary was the only one to vocalize her rage, the entire fleet had grown tired of Miller’s accidental and constant unnecessary key ups. It was bad enough they were shooting at a pilot owned station, the intermittent static was only making the process more irritating.
“No, I don’t feel like.” Miller would respond back in his typical aloof fashion. If his clone wasn’t covered in pod goo in a state of suspended animation; he’d be smirking.
“Eh… she’s right, mate. That shit is really annoying.” Lade, who’s response was laced with a long yawn, added in his piece.
“Yea, but it’s cute when she goes all Crazy-Matari like that.” Miller had always known the right combination of buttons to push when it came to Ary. Some would call it a gift. Others would label it as a death wish.
Unfortunately for Miller, he allowed the success of irritating Ary distract him. Which the constant volleys of turret fire he didn’t notice that one set of auto cannons had changed targets. Slowly, the shield gauge of the Abbadon filled with red pixels. It wasn’t until the screech of the alarm that any of them knew something was amiss. “FUCK Ary! I’m almost in armor!.”
“You’re in an armor battleship. Stop being such a cry baby” Ary’s tones were filled with amusement event if there was a thin layer of malice.
“All DPS on the tower.” As usual, Kendrick’s orders were heeded. “And fix your up key Miller.”
“CHANGE YOUR FUCKING UP KEY, MILLER. YOU LAZY SONVABITCH.” While Ary was the only one to vocalize her rage, the entire fleet had grown tired of Miller’s accidental and constant unnecessary key ups. It was bad enough they were shooting at a pilot owned station, the intermittent static was only making the process more irritating.
“No, I don’t feel like.” Miller would respond back in his typical aloof fashion. If his clone wasn’t covered in pod goo in a state of suspended animation; he’d be smirking.
“Eh… she’s right, mate. That shit is really annoying.” Lade, who’s response was laced with a long yawn, added in his piece.
“Yea, but it’s cute when she goes all Crazy-Matari like that.” Miller had always known the right combination of buttons to push when it came to Ary. Some would call it a gift. Others would label it as a death wish.
Unfortunately for Miller, he allowed the success of irritating Ary distract him. Which the constant volleys of turret fire he didn’t notice that one set of auto cannons had changed targets. Slowly, the shield gauge of the Abbadon filled with red pixels. It wasn’t until the screech of the alarm that any of them knew something was amiss. “FUCK Ary! I’m almost in armor!.”
“You’re in an armor battleship. Stop being such a cry baby” Ary’s tones were filled with amusement event if there was a thin layer of malice.
“All DPS on the tower.” As usual, Kendrick’s orders were heeded. “And fix your up key Miller.”
+++++
It felt like it had been ages since she had seen the old crew. It was going on a few good months since she had slipped away into the darkness of space and set off on to her own once more. The crew was the closest thing to family she had experienced in a long time. Each day that passed held a fond memory. Even Miller’s ass-hattery became a fond recollection.
The box of generic Gallente made dry cereal was pulled off the counter. A handful of strange, yet colorful, bites were poured out from the box before being tossed into her mouth. The sweetness of cereal along with its crunch was satisfying, but that satisfaction would have to be placed on hold on.
As if on cue her neocom lit up with a new call. Another handful of cereal was stuffed in to her mouth before she jumped over the back of the couch, cereal box still in hand. Her body extended on the refined piece of furniture as reached over to accept the call.
“Mfphea.” It was only sound was she was able to utter out around the mouthful of cereal.
“Didn’t yo Momma teach you not to talk with your mouthful?” The familiar voice of Omarii came over the line. Even with his chastising, she smiled.
Ary and Omarri had always had a special kind of kinship. Omarii was one of the few pilots she felt close. They bond was one created from a myriad of reasons and shared experiences. He was more like a brother in arms to her than most of her current corporation mates and even though Ary had left the crew, they frequently kept in touch.
Silence lingered for a moment as she struggled to swallow down the mouthful of grain and protien. The box of cereal was haphazardly pushed over to the side table as she fought to quickly clear her mouth if only to get in some smart ass remark. Omarii would beat her to the punch in her moment of verbal defenselessness.
“Oh… so now it’s the silent treatment. I guess you really have taken to the Mongreal way.” A self satisfied grunt adding just enough playful insult to get Ary’s motor going.
“He roa te wā kua kitea, Asshole. Don’t come on my neocom spoutin’ off a bunch of mess. You called me during my relax time. Just be glad I picked up.”
In the corner of her neocom screen, where Omarii’s picture was… something different. The Mongrel enforced standing coding had turned from red to orange… The Crew had changed Alliances.
“So... Kei te pēhea koe? How are things going?” Ary’s tone had become cautious as her mind churned with the possibilities of The Crew’s new employer. She knew where to find the answer. Pushing up from the couch, she made her way to the three larges screens that were the focal point of her quarters. With Omarii on left screen she used the main to research records.
“Kei te pai. You know… same ole’ just a different day. Things are… well you know how shit can be out here.” There was a tiredness in his tone that spoke volumes. Things had not been going well for The Crew as of late. They had been moving one major alliance to another, only for the alliance to start to crumble away as they entered.
“I see you guys left Mehti.”
“Ah… you caught that. Yea… another move it looks like. We’re almost as bad as you, now.”
“Of course I did and Turituri. You knew I would. I always keep an eye out on my fellas. Even if you are a bunch of knobheads and idiots, I still care about you.” She paused for a moment as the details for The Chew’s new alliance came up. Her lips pressed against themselves as she read the screen. Her heart sank in to the pit of her stomach. “Black Silence? Really Omarri?”
“You know how Ken and D are. It was the best choice for… us. Besides, it’s good space, good fights and it’s a place to call home. I’m just tired of moving at this point. Every few months its weeks spent jumping shit from A to B. It’s tiring…”
“But it’s Black Silence.”
“Yea… It’s not who we’d like to be fighting for, but you know how things are. Too many bad choices limits your options and well… it was the best offer we got. Plus we have some bros from Mehti coming with us….”
“The Mongrels are planning an invasion.” She interrupted him once more.
“Yea we know. They’re going to hit the North this Winter. Is all over GalNet and the other Infohubs.”
“No… Not of the North… of Branch. They want to exterminate Black Silence. Some…. butt-hurt over how they plan to… plan to… sometime something. Who cares. Look the details aren’t important, but… You guys gotta…” The words stopped in her throat as she looked to the screen with Omarii. They were useless to say. She didn’t have to say them. He could hear the desperation that leaked in her voice. He knew a warning when he heard one. Instead, the silence would speak for her.
“Awww… come on Baby Girl. It’s going to be fun. You might even get a Detrick corpse out of it.” He knew what she wouldn’t say. He had known long before he contacted her. “It’ll be just like old times only… we won’t stop at armor. You know how war is. Sometimes you just land on opposite sides.”
+++++
“Aww, come on Ken. A little roam or something sounds good mate? Maybe go the pipe and camp for a bit. Intel is reporting a couple red fleets in the area.” Lade pushed a bit more hoping to sway their second in command.
“Well.. It’s up to D.” And with that, Kendrick pushed the choice off to his brother.
A rather pregnant pause came over comms before Detrick responded. “Ugh… Yea. Sure, I guess. We can do a nano gang if there’s enough.”
While Kendrick and Detrick were brothers, they didn’t sound or look anything a like. They were of the Caldari line and shared the generic features of their race as well as the stereotypical military and fiscally minded mentality the race was characterized for. While Kendrick’s voice was smooth, assured and almost velvety; Detrick’s was a little on the nasally side with a higher pitch, but somehow was more authoritative. Detrick was also very non-committal when he spoke; a trait that secretly drove Ary insane.
“Alright slackers. We’re going to start a new fleet so drop and re-up. Get re-shipped and join the new fleet. Corp only depending on the numbers we get, so start hitting people up.” While Detrick’s orders were casual, they were enough to get the lot of blood lusty killers in to a partial frenzy.
The station became a tight cluster of activity. The Hellcats on the edge of the station were traded in for vagabonds, hurricanes and other ships known for high speed and DPS. The fleet roster would quickly fill with pilot names and ship types as calls for fleet made their way over various comms to those that were idol or out bearing. Within 10 minutes there were about 20 of them and that was all it took.
The fleet meet on the undock. Detrick gave his usual pre-op rundown of tactics and suggestions on how not to get your hull blown off. To most of the pilots, these things were already engrained as their MO. They still gave Detrick the respect he deserved as leader and they listened with silent comms. Number checks were made as they assessed their support as 2 Scimitars, 2 interdictors which were an eris and flycatcher and 2 small tackle comprised of a Dramiel and a Stiletto.
“Desti’s in fleet. Warp to the outgate, so we can move out. We’re not making an all nighter out of this.” Detrick’s voice called out over comms and each of the ships would spin on it’s individual axis towards the gate.
“Well.. It’s up to D.” And with that, Kendrick pushed the choice off to his brother.
A rather pregnant pause came over comms before Detrick responded. “Ugh… Yea. Sure, I guess. We can do a nano gang if there’s enough.”
While Kendrick and Detrick were brothers, they didn’t sound or look anything a like. They were of the Caldari line and shared the generic features of their race as well as the stereotypical military and fiscally minded mentality the race was characterized for. While Kendrick’s voice was smooth, assured and almost velvety; Detrick’s was a little on the nasally side with a higher pitch, but somehow was more authoritative. Detrick was also very non-committal when he spoke; a trait that secretly drove Ary insane.
“Alright slackers. We’re going to start a new fleet so drop and re-up. Get re-shipped and join the new fleet. Corp only depending on the numbers we get, so start hitting people up.” While Detrick’s orders were casual, they were enough to get the lot of blood lusty killers in to a partial frenzy.
The station became a tight cluster of activity. The Hellcats on the edge of the station were traded in for vagabonds, hurricanes and other ships known for high speed and DPS. The fleet roster would quickly fill with pilot names and ship types as calls for fleet made their way over various comms to those that were idol or out bearing. Within 10 minutes there were about 20 of them and that was all it took.
The fleet meet on the undock. Detrick gave his usual pre-op rundown of tactics and suggestions on how not to get your hull blown off. To most of the pilots, these things were already engrained as their MO. They still gave Detrick the respect he deserved as leader and they listened with silent comms. Number checks were made as they assessed their support as 2 Scimitars, 2 interdictors which were an eris and flycatcher and 2 small tackle comprised of a Dramiel and a Stiletto.
“Desti’s in fleet. Warp to the outgate, so we can move out. We’re not making an all nighter out of this.” Detrick’s voice called out over comms and each of the ships would spin on it’s individual axis towards the gate.
