decided to cut their losses and leave. We took it as an opportunity to peel off and leave while still in fighting condition.
All five of the massive Milgari ships had taken heavy damage with only one having weapons that remained operational. The Milgari fleet had taken tremendous losses with nearly half of their ships disabled or destroyed. The Prassi had fared much worse with just over a quarter of their once colossal fleet remaining. Zimmerman’s crew had lost 37 ships, including one of their new battleships. The remainder of his comparatively small fleet, although damaged, would be leaving the battlefield under their own power.
Our Defenders had taken 42 hits, but those hits had largely been dispersed with only two of the ships taking more than two strikes at a single point. I was proud of our team for their performance. Rodriguez had managed to escape the mire without taking a single strike.
Her comm activity echoed that fact. "Oh, look at you guys. All bruised and beaten. You know, if you took better care of your equipment out there you would have a much more attractive Defender. I hope no one sees me riding with you on the way home. That would be embarrassing!"
The other pilots were silent for nearly a minute after Maria’s braggadocio comments. Barg and Davis then responded by each firing a low level ion pulse at the Falcon. Two dark blemishes were left on the previously spotless hull.
Maria responded, "Really guys? Really? Are you so jealous of my skills that…"
I cut in on the conversation. "OK. Knock it off. Anybody else fires on our own ships, even in jest, you’ll be grounded and replaced with another pilot. That includes your engineer so any of you engineers want to keep flying I suggest you keep your pilots in line. And Rodriguez, how about a little less of the banter while everyone’s adrenaline is all pumped up. Great job on not taking a hit, but let’s save the bragging for the appropriate time."
Barg replied. "Appropriate time? Chief? When is it appropriate to have a five inch heel ground into your forehead? I mean, if it wasn’t for all my cover flying the Falcon would be looking more like an overcooked chicken! Hahahaha!"
Despite my attempts at bringing down the level of sarcastic chatter, it continued on for several hours. Other than the normal sarcasm, there were no mean or hurtful things said. The team was just blowing off steam after coming out of an epic battle, a battle where an entire species had been placed in jeopardy. The Prassi had driven off the Milgari, but it had cost them dearly and the Milgari would be coming back just as strong as before or stronger than ever.
As we headed for home we departed on a route that was not aimed at our final destination, it was standard operating procedure. Just before our turn for home Frig chimed in with an alert, "Sir, we have a ship following us. It is one of Zimmerman’s. They are just at the edge of our sensor range and in fact, they are popping in and out of view. Had Rita not precision tuned these sensors we would probably not know they were there."
"They are able to match our speed Sir, might I suggest that we take them through the Fasture Nebula? It seems to be our best method of shaking off a tail. The journey will take us an extra five days, but we won’t give away our home location. I believe it was a wise move to have removed our ship IDs and turned off our transponders while away from Bullwort Sir. It should assist in preventing others from looking there for us."
The extra time was taken to pass through the nebula. The Zimmerman tail was slowed dramatically while our own speed was increased by use of the negative ion engines. From the other side of the nebula it was an easy ride back to Bullwort. After touching down Gy and Rita got immediately to work on repairs.
Gy spoke, "Looks like we didn’t do too badly out there this time; as a quick estimate, I can probably have them all back in top condition within a week. And if you
All five of the massive Milgari ships had taken heavy damage with only one having weapons that remained operational. The Milgari fleet had taken tremendous losses with nearly half of their ships disabled or destroyed. The Prassi had fared much worse with just over a quarter of their once colossal fleet remaining. Zimmerman’s crew had lost 37 ships, including one of their new battleships. The remainder of his comparatively small fleet, although damaged, would be leaving the battlefield under their own power.
Our Defenders had taken 42 hits, but those hits had largely been dispersed with only two of the ships taking more than two strikes at a single point. I was proud of our team for their performance. Rodriguez had managed to escape the mire without taking a single strike.
Her comm activity echoed that fact. "Oh, look at you guys. All bruised and beaten. You know, if you took better care of your equipment out there you would have a much more attractive Defender. I hope no one sees me riding with you on the way home. That would be embarrassing!"
The other pilots were silent for nearly a minute after Maria’s braggadocio comments. Barg and Davis then responded by each firing a low level ion pulse at the Falcon. Two dark blemishes were left on the previously spotless hull.
Maria responded, "Really guys? Really? Are you so jealous of my skills that…"
I cut in on the conversation. "OK. Knock it off. Anybody else fires on our own ships, even in jest, you’ll be grounded and replaced with another pilot. That includes your engineer so any of you engineers want to keep flying I suggest you keep your pilots in line. And Rodriguez, how about a little less of the banter while everyone’s adrenaline is all pumped up. Great job on not taking a hit, but let’s save the bragging for the appropriate time."
Barg replied. "Appropriate time? Chief? When is it appropriate to have a five inch heel ground into your forehead? I mean, if it wasn’t for all my cover flying the Falcon would be looking more like an overcooked chicken! Hahahaha!"
Despite my attempts at bringing down the level of sarcastic chatter, it continued on for several hours. Other than the normal sarcasm, there were no mean or hurtful things said. The team was just blowing off steam after coming out of an epic battle, a battle where an entire species had been placed in jeopardy. The Prassi had driven off the Milgari, but it had cost them dearly and the Milgari would be coming back just as strong as before or stronger than ever.
As we headed for home we departed on a route that was not aimed at our final destination, it was standard operating procedure. Just before our turn for home Frig chimed in with an alert, "Sir, we have a ship following us. It is one of Zimmerman’s. They are just at the edge of our sensor range and in fact, they are popping in and out of view. Had Rita not precision tuned these sensors we would probably not know they were there."
"They are able to match our speed Sir, might I suggest that we take them through the Fasture Nebula? It seems to be our best method of shaking off a tail. The journey will take us an extra five days, but we won’t give away our home location. I believe it was a wise move to have removed our ship IDs and turned off our transponders while away from Bullwort Sir. It should assist in preventing others from looking there for us."
The extra time was taken to pass through the nebula. The Zimmerman tail was slowed dramatically while our own speed was increased by use of the negative ion engines. From the other side of the nebula it was an easy ride back to Bullwort. After touching down Gy and Rita got immediately to work on repairs.
Gy spoke, "Looks like we didn’t do too badly out there this time; as a quick estimate, I can probably have them all back in top condition within a week. And if you
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