Revenge Ain't Sweet

"FUCK!" Damay exclaimed, watching another warp drive flash in his face.

"Sir, the customs office was too large we couldn't come 'round fast enough,"

"That's the first Hoarder I've seen at a customs office in ages goddammit, we're coming around for another pass," Damay turned to his navigator. "You better not miss this time kid,"

"Aye... Aye aye, sir," The navigator swallowed. He didn't look a day older then seventeen and Damay knew the untimely passing of the Engineer a couple days ago was fresh in his mind.  There would be no mistakes this time.

The Incursus named Natalie Portman came out of warp right on top of the industrial this time and landed scram without pause.  Her neutron blasters shook the frigate with their report and tore gaping holes through the structure of the Hoarder within ten seconds of opening fire.

In the wonderous explosion that followed Damay caught a glimpse of the poor fool's pod and locked onto it. Then, without missing a beat and caught up in his own bloodlust he fired two salvos and watched as the pod blew apart.  The goo holding the corpse of the clone spraying in all directions in space, some even splattering across the viewing window of his ship.

"Sir... that pilot was barely a month old, was that really necessary?"

Damay wheeled on his young navigator. "Are you questioning me in my bridge?  On my ship!?"

"Oh no sir, no I just... I mean... I dunno he was probably only-"

"Only about your age? You're right, he was 18 years old according to his CONCORD dossier.  And I don't give a fuck how old he was, if he didn't know the risks before, he sure as hell knows them now. Don't you agree?"

"Yes, sir,"

"Good. Now get that cargo checked out, see if there's anything we can fit onboard."

"Aye aye, sir,"

"And kid. I want you to go retrieve that body personally understand me?"  Damay added, locking eyes with the kid and watching the color drain from his face.

"Yes, yes sir,"

Damay leaned back in his captain's chair and watched the progress off the onload.  He isnt a bad kid I guess, Damay thought, naive and inexperienced yes, but maybe with some tours under his belt and a little hair on his chest he could make a good crew member or even capsuleer. His thoughts were broken short though when his comms panel lit up.  It was the capsuleer he killed, screaming through the comms in a blind rage at him.  Damay grinned from ear to ear to hear the carebear's unrest and burst out laughing when the pilot reentered local.

"Hahahaha! I need everyone back on the ship five minutes ago, we got some revenge to receive, Cyclone class battlecruiser incoming,"

The crew rushed back to their stations as the doomed vessel landed on the field.  Damay didn't wait for them all to sit down before sending his Incursus straight into the maw of the huge projectiles that rained in their direction, and as a result half the crew, inculding the young navigator, crashed to the deck.

The familiar and soothing sounds of blaster fire and report of autocannons surrounded Damay as he brought the frigate into close orbit on the ship and started to whittle away at the shields of his comparatively massive opponent.  None of the projectiles hit their mark though, intermittent heavy missiles exploding just too far behind the Natalie to do much more than shake the ship.

Before long an even more beautiful explosion filled Damay's vision.  And once again he landed a lock and point on the young pilot who was just seconds ago so keen on revenge.  This time though Damay took his time, reopening comms with the pilot.

"Did you happen to remember to update your clone my friend?" Damay asked the fuming pilot as his guns zero'd in on the target.

"FUCK YOU ASSHOLE!" A round of blaster fire bombarded the pod.  Opening cracks in its hull large enough to promote high pressure sprays of goo into the vaccum. Even if released the owner would have to move quick to not die of suffocation.

"Wanna try that again sir?"

"I'M COMING BACK IN SOMETHING LARGER YOU DOUCHE!"

"Sure you are," Once again the man's pod goo and body parts littered the space surrounding Planet 1 of Aralgrund.

Turning to assess the damage to his crew, he saw a man near one of the bulkheads with a clearly broken neck and a few others nursing various breaks and bruises.  The navigator had somehow made it to his seat and was looking at Damay with a crushed nose and a trail of blood originating from somewhere on his scalp.

"You look like shit kid,"

"I'm fine sir,"

"Good. Get out there again, you know the drill."

"Yes, sir,"

"Be sure you find all his parts too, I'd rather not be missing any pieces for my collection,"





Damay.