Finally happened. Those scum the "Whips and Chains" gang (what kind of effete name is that for a bunch of brigands, I say?) hired that corp of cold-blooded bad asses, the Mercenary Coalition, to try and put the smackdown on Namtz'aar K'in. Fighting these guys ain't at all like fighting pirates. First of all, these guys are good. Damn good. Secondly, they are smart. They aren't as brave as us (hey, they are business men. Hardened killers in elite warships, but still businessmen), not warriors with a cause to die for, like NMTZ. Still, they gave us some trouble, at least initially...
Anyways, me and Ma, I'm flying as escort to his Tempest-class battlewagon (got some Old Vhek name I can't recall... it and its crew are space dust now anyways... gonna get some hard respect from some Mordus killer in their bivouak, when a call comes in from an ally in-system. Some MC jobs in Crows have him pinned in a station. Ma sighs, and we warp in and quickly scare off the inties... but something doesn't smell right. We hang by the station, when BAM, a big Ishtar-class HAC warps on top of me, followed by those crow-jobs. I start firing, but in an instant I'm nossed, webbed, and hosed. My board lights up red, there's a roaring sound as my pod ejects, then another louder one as it pops open, throwing me into cold, cold vacuum...
...and I wake up back at Isto, coughing up goo, pushing open the lid of my creche. In my wet-wired com, I can hear Ma still fighting, but he's going down... Actually, felt almost exactly the same as climbing out of my pod... no pain. I feel my face... my implants are gone. I look at myself reflected in the hardplas of the creche lid.. damn, forgot what a good looking bastard I was before the implants and plasma burn scars.
I look down at my new body. Good as new--no beer belly, no scars. My tattoo isn't faded--in fact, it's burning bright crimson. Right. My cruiser and crew and in this station. I just grab a robe from the startled technician who's just walked in to check on me, and I sprint down to my hanger, shouting for my people to prep for battle. My XO takes one look at me... "gee boss, you look wierd all un-borged..." before we're all aboard, I'm back in a pod and plugged in, and my crew gives the all clear check.
We launch and warp back to Hedelfarber. The parties really begun now... MC is in system in full force, but we've got friends docked and prepped. We do a dosie-do around the system, we camp them, they camp us, until finally we get them to jump lonely little Commander Smeggy in his little old Cyclone-class battlecruiser. Before they know it, we're jumping back on top of them. It's crazy--the systems start to overload from all the combat data screaming in--I'm just yelling "lock lock lock!" Then it's over, and we've given them a pasting they're not likely to forget. Huuu-yeah... honor and glory to the corp!
Once I got back at the station, it hits me. I died. But it feels liberating, somehow. I was hooked on all the borg crap... and forgot how damn uncomfortable all that shit sticking in your head really was. I think I'm gonna go au-natural from now on... I still have all the results of those skill-chips (wet-wiring seems to survive rebirth, apparently). I'm born-again, and I feel more a warrior than ever before.
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