Beta Quadrant, Euclid
AGT Stardate 3740.10.07
Lore by Gravemind
It had been several days of travel since he’d seen the light of his home star. The Golden Moon of Sedbur was naught but etched into his memories, forgotten to the passage of time as his journey through the galaxy continued. Each star system presented a new challenge. Around every corner a pirate, or a sentinel would rise to challenge him. And if it weren’t other entities, it was the planets and moons themselves. Rogue asteroids, hostile worlds, and ghastly creatures all stood as bastions of antagonism in his voyage of self-discovery.
One recall of such an encounter took place under the light of a rebel star; burning bright in defiance against the order of things. He’d heard of such places where vagabonds met among the whispers of pirates and legends of explorers gone missing. It appeared as if he’d stumbled upon such a system by happenstance; as if the cards of the universe had given him a void hand.
The encounter had taken place thousands of light years deeper into Euclid’s Beta Quadrant. His memory served him to recount this tale, but not that of the system’s name, or even the rebel station he’d glimpsed at a distance. But these details mattered not when the first photon beam scorched through the darkness, searing their way to his shield array that pulsed brightly in complaint. The warning triggers droned in his ears, he remembered, as his hands shook erratically on the controls. First, the thrust driver, which was wrenched back to cut his speed in two. Then, the control stick, which was rolled anti-clockwise to bank his ship into a spin. Finally, the gyroscope, which was pulled upwards in a controlled frenzy. All this to bring his assailant to the forefront.
The flick of finger was a jarring beat in the cockpit, but a necessary one to prime his offense capabilities. The low hum of the weapons systems powering up gained in pitch until a soft beep confirmed he was ready to throw hell right back where it had come from.
And that is exactly what he did. The thrum of pulse cannons lit up the space between the pair of dancing ships. A steady string of hot pulses tore into the ship’s shields. This prompted an immediate response from his attacker in the form of an evasive manoeuvre. Or, to be more accurate in his recount of the story, an attempt at an evasive manoeuvre. His enemy banked towards his twelve o’clock, much to dismay, as he tracked this movement with relative ease across his cockpit viewing pane.
But the ships were closing the distance between them, and fast. This meant that his firing angle was closing, and so, gauging a rough estimate of his attacker’s remaining shield strength, he took a gamble. Which the push of a red thumb button the dull sound of rocket projectiles launching below his seat were felt. The unmistakable white streak of spent rocket fuel chased the enemy ship across the battlefield. It didn’t take long for a white flash to engulf the enemy ship for the briefest of moments. Then, as quick as the flash dominated the scene, the fireball dissipated to show his attacker.
The ship was still intact but the flame-licked hull told him all he needed to know. With the enemy shields down he reignited his pulse cannons.
Each pulse sputtered against the ship and burned away into the interior of the ship’s hull plating. But he didn’t stop. Instead, he quickly switched his weaponry rotation to bring his own photon beam to bare. This was when the enemy tore past his right cockpit pane, very narrowly avoiding a head-on collision. He already had the control stick and thrust driver ready in anticipation of their passing. Using the same tactic, he brought his speed down to a crawl and allowing the positioning thrusters to rotate his craft towards his enemy. Speed away as they might, he was now a firing platform.
The ignited photon beam cut clean into the ship’s hull, immediately causing a wing fragment to shatter and burst into space. He steered the beam towards his two o’clock; trying to track it towards the cockpit but his assailant still had a few tricks up their sleeve. They matched the movements, staying one step ahead to allow enough of a respite for their shields to flicker back into life.
In response to this sudden manoeuvre, he immediately switched the rockets out on the rack and diverted his photon beam and pulse cannon power banks into his engines. He blasted the thrust driver forward as far as it would go as fast as his hand let him. As the enemy turned to face him to continue the skirmish, he veered to his nine o’clock to widen the firing angle.
Another gamble.
His ship careened deeper into the system and, he hoped, out of the attacker’s firing arc. He recounted arcing towards his x-axis while keeping his longitude stable, sending him on an outward loop. The enemy ship could no longer be seen in his viewing pane. Several seconds passed that felt distortedly lengthy. And then he felt the distinct shudders of photon pulse fire plunging into his energy shielding. He completed the outward arc, brought his rockets to bare, and fired.
The plume of fire and fragments erupted into the system as his assailant was blown apart. The flash was blinding, and nearly took away his ability to pilot. But when the proverbial dust settled, all that remained was the shattered remnants of the ship.
But there, amongst the devastation, was a black flag emblem.
The whisperings were true.