Hauntings Part 2

Midnight on the Firing Lane

Written By: Death Star

Origin
Hanger Bay
October 31st, 2200
10:50 PM

He didn't know for how many weeks he had been working on the damn thing. Since had joined the Wraiths, that was for sure...wasn't that back in early September? It didn't matter. All that mattered was he wanted to get his damn starfighter operational again. After flying it on that last mission, all the damage he had been attempting to fix broke again. He was no mechanic - he was good with computers. Plus he didn't trust any of the other mechanics around here to touch his ship.

Ron leaned back and studied his handy work. It looked like he was making progress, but that was what he thought when he bombed the cannon on that Asteroid Base. Then he was proven wrong after the starfighter threatened to break apart. The damage he had received back at his own space station was evident. He decided he wasn't going to make that mistake again and refused to fly it again until he was positive it was finished.

Glancing at some of the mechs, he sighed. He didn't trust those things like he did his own starfighter. In a galaxy that was quickly switching to mechs and mobile suits for battles now, he was feeling out of place in his ancient looking starfighter. At least Death Star still had respect for starfighters' capabilities, which was why he was given the job of bombing the cannon with a starfighter.

Standing up, Ron threw down his tools and began to walk across the hanger. He didn't really pay attention to who was running around right now. If anyone spoke to him, he didn't even register it in his head. His thoughts were on Elayne. The only two friends he really had on this blasted station was her and Kyo'Yokuo. Stopping outside in the hallway, Ron considered how he really felt about Elayne. He really enjoyed her company and even might have been in love with her, but he dismissed his feelings immediately. Snipe, whom he dispised, and Gravedigger were both after her. And a three-way love was bad enough, not requiring a forth party.

Ron sighed to himself. It seemed like every girl on the station was taken. Ariel seemed to be interested in Death Star. Seraphna was married to Garland. Cheryl was just a bit too wild for anyone to handle it seemed so he didn't care to try his luck on that one. Kyouki seemed to be interested in Grey Fox, who was still in a coma after the battle. They were both probably in MedBay. Hotaru and Katrina were definitely too young. Eve was mourning her own losses right now. And Kara didn't even look in any guy's direction. He missed female company.

Starting to work his way through the hallway again, he just let his feet lead him, not really caring where he went. All he needed was some time to himself. Besides, he was a loner at heart. And around these characters, you could only depend on yourself to get yourself out of a situation alive. Too many people were too interested in playing hero to save themselves or the person they were trying to save.

And Ron Knight wasn't going to be added to the list of the dead due to some hero's mistake.

* * * * *

Origin
Brig
10:58 PM

He was a patient man...it came with his line of work. He was a pilot and was the best there ever was. No other man could match his skills and his talents when it came to a starfighter or a mech. There simply was no second to him. Not even Dias could match his skills in flying. And this knowledge allowed him to survive in the brig, the jeering of all the Wraiths. This knowledge allowed him to prevail where no other man could.

Sitting cross legged in his cell, his body was massed in sweat as he mediated, nude. He had no need for modesty or clothing in the brig. All he needed was his own peace of mind. Only to continue to practice inside his own head as he sat there since his capture last summer. His brown hair had grown longer, about down his back to the point his stomach was located. His face was still just a bunch of burnt flesh with no features left...no lips or anything. Just a slot where his mouth used to be, a place were his nose once was, and two holes where his eyes shown out of angrily.

His meditation allowed his mind to exercise without disturbances. Which was good with that damn squirrel in the cell down from his. "You bloody idiots! *chitter* You shall ALL DIE!!! I will rule this station! *chitter* You are all bloody twits! Elayne's cup size is pathetic! ARGGH!"

The guard glanced over at the squirrel, sighing. "Do you ever shut the *chitter* up?" he asked mockily.

The squirrel glared from the other side of the lasers that prevented him from leaving. "I'll show you chitter, you god damn mother *chitter*!"

He ignored them both, of course, just allowing the sweat to run down his body. They were both incompetent and only the lasers prevented him from leaving at this time. The lasers were reinforced with a force field, also, that would stop anyone insane enough to throw themselves through the lasers. All he needed was a miracle.

Then it happened. The lights flickered once, causing the guard to look up surprised. Then it totally went out, throwing them all into complete disarray and darkness. The lasers turned offline and then the force field vanished along with it. The squirrel was the first to react, running out of the cell, chittering happy as it smashed against the guard's fat stomach, bouncing to freedom up a series of stairways.

The nude man in the darkness rose to his feet, his faceless face turning towards his open cell. Even in the dark, he was beginning to make out details. A smile would have formed on his face if he could have managed it. A pilot's cocky grin. According to his internal watch in his head, it was about 11:00 PM. Moving from the cell, the man threw a punch into the back of the guard's head, who was busy getting ready to call for help from Chip. The blow knocked him off balance and sent the man crashing to the floor. Bending down, he quickly removed the man's pistol.

Checking the energy clips, the man quickly moved away from the brig. Maestro was free again.

* * * * *

Origin
Various Hallways
11:02 PM

Ron had been briefly surprised when the lights went out, causing him to smash into an unknown wall. He stopped his walking, crouching on the floor as he regained the use of his sight in the dark. As his eyes adjusted, he called out. "Hey, Chip, you there?"

Chip's tired and weak voice came on. "Yeah, I'm here. Just answering everyone's cries of, 'Hey, what the hell is going on here?' And, before you ask, no I have no idea why the power is off. Only life support and gravity are operational."

Ron nodded slowly. "Well, my position was near the Brig last time I checked. I was making my way down to the lower levels. Good thing I decided to walk and not take the elevator, huh?"

"Yeah. The elevators took damage," Chip agreed.

"No one in them I hope."

"I'm not getting any comm. signals coming from them, but I can't actually pick up any sounds in there through means of normal talking," Chip responded.

"I could go check..." Ron offered.

"Nah. You said you were close to the brig, right? Technically the back up generator should have powered the cells, but this is strange. Could you check that out for me?" asked Chip.

"Yeah, no problem..." agreed Ron. He stood up, stretched, then made his way slowly through the hallway. Reaching a set of stairs, he began to work his way down until he was in the brig, casting a glance at the elevator, wishing it was online.

Casting a long glance around the brig, he noticed a crumbled floor in the dark. Walking over, he knelt down and rolled the huge blob over, looking at the guard's face. Whatever hit him did it efficiently. The man was out cold. Checking his pulse, Ron determined he would be fine in a few hours. That's when he noticed the man's holster. Reaching down, he checked, seeing it was empty. "Perfect..." Looking up, he saw that the cells were all unpowered...and empty.

"Well, Chip, we have a problem...the prisoners are gone. How many did we have?" Ron asked.

"Two of them. A squirrel and an ex-pilot," Chip told him.

"Hmph. I'll take the pilot. The squirrel shouldn't prove a threat..." he said mockingly.

"Eh, don't be too sure. But I can always get someone else on it. So you'll handle it? Good, no need to alert anyone else and worry them. If Maestro follows true to form, he'll probably work his way to the hanger, in order to make his escape," Chip said.

"Gotcha. On my way there now. I should be able to intercept him before he reaches the hanger in no time flat," Ron said, standing up and running back up the flight of stairs. As he rounded the corner, he knelt down, spotting a set of smaller tracks heading towards the control room area. Obviously the squirrel thought he could take the station over...even without power. Rolling his eyes, Ron pulled out his own rifle and checked the readings. Making sure everything was normal, he ran down the hallway, hoping that his walks around the station would prove useful enough to intercept the prisoner before he reached the hanger. If not, all hell would break lose.

* * * * *

11:08 PM

Maestro glanced around the corner. If memory served him, which it did quite well, the hanger was quite a few floors up. Of course, no doubt, the Wraiths knew of his escape, so taking the stairways might prove to be a little too risky. As he moved around into the new hallway, he went past the stairs and worked his way towards the end of the hallway. Looking up, he spotted an airvent.

Aiming the rifle, he fired four quick shots to each corner of the vent covering, causing it to clatter loudly to the floor. Hopefully no one would have heard that. Reaching up, he pulled his body up into the airvent. Having spent so much time in his cell, he had time to buff himself up a lot. Right now, the muscles were paying off as he slid himself soundlessly into the airvent.

Slowly crawling down the airvent, Maestro paid little attention to the discomfort he was experiencing. His mind was working like that of a fox. Sly, cunning, and a little crazy. But that suited him just fine. Grunting a bit from the energy he was expending, he came to a point where he could crawl up. Putting the gun in his mouth, since he was still nude, he began to literally push against the sides of the vent as he lifted himself up. As his body trembled under the strain he was putting it through, he slowly, but steadily, made his way up past one floor.

Continuing to work his way up, Maestro came to a halt after he climbed up three floors, sliding his body into a vent moving sideways. Once more he began to slide through the vents until he reached another covering. Aiming the blaster, he fired off four quick shots and let it clatter to the ground. Sliding himself out, he landed on the floor with a slight grunt, holding the pistol steady. So far no one seemed to notice him.

Working his way through the strange hallway, he mentally calculated that the dark would make things seem less familiar, but his memory was once again allowing him to remember certain things. If he continued to make progress upward, he should be at the floor the hanger bay was located fairly soon. Once there, the only thing that really mattered was retreiving some sort of transportation and leaving. Revenge, if he choose to indulge in it, could come later.

* * * * *

11:20 PM

Reaching the hanger bay floor, Ron tensed himself and glanced around the area. So far there was no sign of the pilot. Perhaps he had beaten this prisoner here afterall. Leaning back against the wall, Ron took several breaths to calm himself. While the ground wasn't exactly his speciality, a lightly armed prisoner wouldn't prove much of a problem either - pilot or not.

Allowing himself a breather, he opened one of his eyes and looked up. "Hey, Chip, how goes powering things?"

"Slow, Velocity, slow..." came the reply. And just like that, the hallway was plunged into silence. Ron sighed, knowing Chip was probably working with all his concentration just to get the power back on. It made the location of the prisoner a little harder, but not impossible. Infact, he heard something just then...

Crouching low to the ground, he aimed the rifle at the end of the hallway. Moments of silence passed, then the distinct sound of a shuffle of feet were heard. Normally, with a station fully powered and operational, hearing such a thing would be a bit difficult, but in the dead silence, it made it all the more distinct. Wrapping his finger around the trigger, he spotted a shadow beginning to move around the corner.

Counting silently in his head to calm himself down, Ron waited until the man was in full view. The first thing that struck him as odd was that he was completely nude and had long hair, almost as long as Snipe's was until he cut it a few days ago. This must be the man. Aiming at the prisoner's leg, he fired.

The prisoner, to Ron's utter surprise, jumped straight up into the air, landing on the ground seconds after the plasma blast hit the wall. He aimed the pistol he was holding and fired off three quick plasma rounds at the Wraith. Rolling to the side, he heard the impact of each of the shots into the wall. With the element of surprise gone, Ron had only his wits to keep him alive through this one. And the prisoner didn't seem intent on letting up on the rapid fire, which was still following him. Ron was forced to roll around the corner, still between him and the hanger, regripping his rifle awkwardly.

A few seconds of silence passed. "Well, I certainly don't remember you," came the harsh, ragged voice. "Are they sending ensigns after me now? Am I that low on their list of things to do, tonight? I would have thought Dias would be here himself personally..."

Ron shrugged. "Guess he has better forms of entertainment tonight than you. You'll just have to deal with me as your host."

"Oh? This should be interesting..." the voice hissed, coming from a different location now. It sounded closer. "What are you going to do once I reach that hanger?"

"The sky is my territory. You'll soon find yourself outclassed, pal. I'm no novice pilot and you haven't been in the seat of a starfighter or mech in months," Ron told him.

"Interesting. Another pilot." Again, it sounded closer. "My code name is Maestro. If you defeat me, I'll even tell you my real name."

"The name's Velocity. Get used to it. Because you're going to be chanting it a lot in your cell," Ron replied smoothly. His hand had stopped trembling by then and he held the rifle steady. The little talking had calmed him down a lot, letting him know just how cocky this guy was. Of course, if that wasn't all talk he had in him, then he was going to be in a world of pain.

Shifting back some, he put further distance between the two of them, and quietly. Slipping to where the shadows of the hallway masked him completely. As expected, a blast came out and nailed the spot he was moments earlier, then Maestro flung himself around the corner, opening fire rapidly with the pistol. Rolling back to avoid the shots, Ron aimed the rifle and fired off two quick shots. Neither hit, but they threw Maestro off balance long enough for Ron to dive around another bend in the hallway.

Maestro was quick to recover and flung himself past the corner, opening fire on Ron yet again. Startled, Ron hit the floor, the shots narrowly flying over him. He rolled back and looked behind him, seeing nothing but hallway for about 20 meters. However, just two meters behind him and to the right was a set of stairs. Convenient. As Maestro began to turn and open fire again, Ron quickly reached and grabbed his leg, throwing him backwards, using his own momentum to carry the nude man. That sent them both crashing down the stairs together, tangling them both up by the time they hit the bottom.

Unfortantly, Maestro recovered first and punched Ron in the face, causing his world to fill with stars in the already dark hallway. Startled, he rasped in pain and kneed Maestro in the groin, grabbing his long hair and yanking. These two desperate acts flung Maestro further down the stairs and away from Ron. Panting, he looked around in the dark, trying to spot his rifle. Luck was against him on that one too.

Maestro had recovered by then, picking up his own pistol --- how lucky --- and was turning to aim at Ron. Instinctively, due to all the weeks of grilling training Snipe and Grey Fox had put the new members through, Ron threw himself down the stairs and half-talked half-landed on Maestro, sending them both crashing to the floor. Ron banged his head against the side of the stairs, once again his vision filling with stars, as he rolled a little further down than Maestro. But his luck wasn't with him -- the pilot still had his pistol.

As they both stood up, Maestro quicker than Ron, they both turned toward the other. Ron knew that he couldn't tackle the man from further down the stairs. Maestro knew this too, as he grinned his lipless grin and aimed the pistol straight at Ron's skull. In the dark, Ron didn't know how he could dive down the stairs safely, so he stood there, rooted to the spot, waiting for his brains to be blown out everywhere. Then luck really did happen.

The emergency lights flickered on. Both of them, having grown used to the darkness of the hallways, roared in pain due to the red lights. Ron shielded his eyes, looking back down the stairs. Now seeing how they were patterned, he rolled himself down them, away from the line of fire from Maestro's gun. The pilot had recovered and began running down the stairs after Ron. But the Wraith knew better than to stay and reached the end of the stairs and ran off down the hallway. Maestro stopped at the foot of them, panted a bit, then climbed back up them, in the direction of the hallway.

Ron leaned against the wall further down the hallway, panting. He wiped the sweat off his face and looked back at the stairs. He needed a plan of action --- and fast.

* * * * *

11:31 PM

Maestro reached the edge of the hanger and crouched down. The emergency lights had come back on and the hanger was now flooded with red light. He could see techs and other people moving about, struggling to work even during this crisis. Obviously whatever was going on was either being kept under wraps or there wasn't anything to it after all.

Glancing behind him, he saw that the man named Velocity hadn't been following him after all. He guessed the man was all talk and didn't have it in him for a real fight. He turned back to face the hallway, waiting for the nearest techs to get distracted. A few minutes later his chance came and he ran across the floor behind a crate.

Leaning against the crate, Maestro held his breath, listening to the conversations. He could hear footsteps nearby, but they sounded like they were passing. Or so he thought --- until his head exploded in pain, causing him to hit the ground stunned, his grip on the blaster vanishing. He touched his head tenderly, feeling blood. Turning around, he saw Velocity standing over him with a chair, grinning down at him. Velocity dropped down and kicked the pistol across the hanger. By then they were getting quite the crowd watching them.

Maestro stood up and swung out, slamming Velocity in the stomach, sending him falling to his knees. When his head began to dip, he kicked out and nailed Velocity in the head, sending him crashing onto his back. As the pilot began to recover, he ran down one of the hallways away from the hanger. By then sneaking into the hanger wouldn't be easy, plus he needed to put so space between him and his hunter.

He could hear Velocity shouting out, "Don't worry --- I got him. All of you go back to work." Grinning, Maestro rounded a corner and ran down a flight of stairs. The station was the perfect place to ground this pilot. Even with the emergency lights on, he could tell the man was out of his element on the ground fighting, so that was where he would exploit him enough to reach a ship.

He could hear the sound of footsteps coming behind him. Hissing, Maestro opened one of the doors and stepped inside. Closing it softly, he paused in the darkness of the room, listening to the footsteps run past the door. Good. Opening the door again, he began to move out when he noticed a slight shadow due to the emergency lights. Grinning, Maestro gripped the door and slammed it into Velocity's face, causing the man to hit the ground. Slamming it shut, Maestro raised his foot to smash in the man's head.

Velocity, surprisingly, grabbed his foot before it could crush his nose into his skull. Twisting Maestro's foot, Velocity managed to crash the man to the floor. Once again, Maestro found himself on the defensive, as the man kicked him in the groin again. Being nude seemed to be an open invitation for the man to hit him there, but he had already deadened the pain to that region. Reaching out, he grabbed Velocity's throat and lifted the man off the ground, slamming him into the wall. Dropping him, he grabbed the pistol the man had stolen from him and aimed straight at his head. Maestro had learned long ago not to fire at the chest. Go straight for between the eyes.

His finger tightening around the trigger, Maestro pulled.

* * * * *

11:39 PM

Ron knew his element was not ground fighting and that became painfully obvious when Maestro handed the law down to him with the door. But now the man had stolen his stolen pistol and was aiming it at his head. Tensing himself, Ron desperately began to think of some way of stalling this man long enough to save his own skin.

Nothing was coming to mind.

Maestro's finger went around the trigger and began to pull it back. Ron clenched his eyes and heard the shot of the plasma blast coming straight at his skull. Time seemed to slow down momentarily as he concentrated, desperately trying to stop the blast with everything he could. A startled gasp caused him to open his eyes and he noticed the plasma inches from his nose, hovering there. Looking up, he saw Maestro looked, well -- with what he had left of his face --- surprised. But that quickly seemed to change as he aimed the pistol again.

"I'll rapid fire your ass, then..." he said and began to pull the trigger again. Desperately, Ron concentrated and flung the plasma blast, much to his own surprise, straight at Maestro's skull. When the man had to dodge in order to keep his brains in place, Ron rolled to his feet and shoved into him, throwing him off balance. He made a desperate grab for the pistol, but Maestro held firm, head butting Ron in the nose. As he stumbled back, Ron quickly recovered his balance and for a moment, neither man moved as he studied the other. Both were covered in sweat and blood. A look of admiration passed between both of them for a brief moment, neither ever seeing the other's flying, but realizing this was a man who would prove worthy behind the cockpit.

Maestro raised his pistol at Ron, who had no where else to go. "You're good, you're really good. It's a shame I'll never get to see you fly." And with that, he fired. Ron felt the blast hit him in the shoulder, gasping in pain as his breath seemed to leave his lungs instantly. Stumbling back, he realized he had been shot, the blast going through his shoulder and leaving a burn mark in it's wake. Blood began to trinkle out as he stumbled backwards, falling to his knees. His vision turned red for a moment and he crashed face first into the floor.

* * * * *

11:43 PM

Maestro was once again in the hanger and despite it's slightly tighter security, had ran his way over to the starfighters. There was a dozen or so laying around, all upgraded except one in the corner. He picked the best looking model and opened it, so far not drawing attention to himself. Amazingly it had been forty four minutes since his escape and he still hadn't left the cursed station.

Powering up the starfighter, he adjusted the helmet, ignoring the cries of surprise from the techs in the hanger. As he began to fire up the engines, he gripped the controls and lifted the starfighter off the ground. This was more like it.

Flicking a few switches, Maestro glanced at the hanger bay doors. While they were open, a force field protected the stable gravity inside, but allowed ships to go in and out. If he was right, there would be no force field preventing his exit due to the power being down.

Flying the starfighter towards the exit, he heard shots coming from pistols or rifles from the techs. Ignoring them, he flew into space, pausing the starfighter briefly to marvel in the beauty of it. It had been months since he had seen this. After being held captive by the Wraiths...as a mocking, he would finally have his revenge. And there was no revenge colder than the depths of space.

Scanning the station with his starfighter, Maestro noticed that the shields were down. Grinning, he also saw all the weapons were offline. An open invitation he planned on accepting. Turning the starfighter to face the station, he powered up the laser cannons. His thumb reached towards the red button to fire when suddenly his starfighter shook from fire. Pulling back, he circled the area. Who!?

The comm crackled to life. "Ugh, you are one pain in my ass, Maestro." It was the man named Velocity. Maestro wasn't sure why he didn't finish the man off, but at least he would get to test his skills in space after all. Turning his starfighter to face the other's, they both hovered in space.

* * * * *

11:48 PM

Ron wasn't one to stay dead for long. He quickly woke up after his disgraceful nose dive into the floor and quickly made tracks for the hanger. He arrived just as Maestro's starfighter was flying off. Unnoticed he had made his way over to his own starfighter. The debate that followed was a harsh one. Earlier that night he vowed not use his ship again until he was sure it was space worthy. But the catch was he didn't trust any of other starfighters with his life. So in he went, powering up his starfighter, flying out after Maestro.

His shoulder hurt like hell and it restricted his flying, but being in the cockpit of his own starfighter had put Ron to ease. All he had to do was hit Maestro by surprise. But to his dismay, Maestro's cunning wit was fast. He had figured that the station being down meant it was a sitting duck and was targetting the vital points. He didn't have time to coordinate a sneak attack to disable Maestro.

Firing blindly, Ron had nailed Maestro in the wing, but the starfighter's shields had absorbed the blast quite easily. The starfighter quickly began to circle, cutting off it's engine thrust to hover there. Ron reached over and did the same thing, mimicking Maestro's maneuver so neither of them advanced or lost distance. Hitting his comm button, he grinned. "Ugh, you are one pain in my ass, Maestro."

Maestro's starfighter came to face his. For a few moments, as Ron nursed his shoulder, he wondered if the man was going to respond at all. "Well, well, Velocity. I must say, I look forward to this. While illogical that you would beat me, I miss flying. Perhaps you will be a worthy stepping stone into my winning."

"You're all talk. I thought you were suppose to be more of a strategic type of thinker. Not some sadistic pilot," Ron responded.

"We'll see. What you think of me I could care less. I fly my own way. But tell me, how long can you keep me away from the station? You're playing hero, Velocity. If there is such a thing..." Maestro said.

"Hero? Maybe they're out there, but I rather depend on myself than anyone else," Ron told him.

"Well said. But in the end, can you do what is necessary to win this war? Death Star wasn't. I knew that back last summer. Can you really do what it takes to end this war?" Maestro asked.

"...I'm merely out for my own reasons. If it ends the war, so be it. Enough talk, Maestro, lets do what we were both born to do. Fly," Ron cut him off.

Maestro's starfighter's engines lit up immediately and he flew towards Ron's starfighter. Tilting the ship to the side, he let Maestro fly past. Sensing Maestro's next move, he quickly hit the thrusters and went straight ahead, just in time to miss being side swiped. If he had turned or gone up or down, Maestro would have scored the kill. Thankfully Ron had some type of sixth sense.

Turning his starfighter around, Ron glanced around, searching for signs of Maestro's ship. He had almost totally vanished. Sensing his predicament, Ron hit the boosters, ignored the protests of his computers, and did a crazy eight loop, coming straight down above Maestro. He fired, scoring three shots. The shields absorbed them, but were consideribly weakened.

Maestro flipped it around and fired off two quick shots that hit the under belly of Ron's starfighter, blowing the shields out down there completely. His computer wailed in protest, warnings popping up everywhere. For the sake of his sanity, Ron flipped the alarms off and tuned out the words flashing across his screen. He merely focused on his objective...Maestro.

The two starfighters turned around and were face to face, each targetting the other. Ron pulled his trigger and his blasts soar at, just as Maestro's. The blasts collided and sent both of the starfighters sailing back. Maestro used this moment of distraction to boost past Ron and at the station. Cursing himself, Ron quickly swerved around and fired his only missile at the starfighter.

Maestro's starfighter came to a complete stop. As the missile came closer, he hit the boosters and went straight down, looping under the missile and coming up behind it, flying straight at Ron. "No you don't, you bastard..." Ron cursed and hit his own boosters, flying at Maestro's starfighter. What he was doing was highly irrational for survive as both starfighters would have to jerk at the same time, probably causing the missile to blow up under them, nailing them both. THAT was a chance he was willing to take.

Maestro's starfighter instead dipped down and to the right, flying under Ron's starfighter. Jerking up on the controls, Ron went straight up, now having the missile locked onto him. As he did a flip in the air and came straight down at Maestro's starfighter, he passed it going down, which meant the missile was on a projectory above Maestro's starfighter. It exploded, the countdown hitting zero, and the blast radius hit the top of Maestro's starfighter, blowing out the shields.

Ron flipped his starfighter crazily through the air and finally cut the engines off before they blew up on him. They were screaming so many curses on the computer screen that he just couldn't ignore it anymore. His mistake was putting too much faith on his own starfighter instead of the Wraith's. As he sailed backwards towards the station, Maestro's starfighter once again sprang to life, flipping around and flying towards the station. Maestro pust have scanned his engines' powering off, Ron reasoned.

Once again playing on the edge of stupidity, he powered up the engines again, listening to one of the four explode behind him. The starfighter rattle and shook, but it flew forward. At the decreased speed of the engines, Ron calculated he wouldn't reach Maestro in time. Not unless he supplied either the weapons or the life support. One would be his death, one would be the death of the station. --- unless...

Calculating the extra boost of speed, Ron figured he could appear in front of Maestro's starfighter before it fired. Draining the weapons into his engines, his starfighter zoomed forward, closing the distance between his and Maestro's starfighter.

* * * * *

11:59:34

Maestro had been surprised when Velocity's engines had turned completely off, especially after scoring his blow to his shields like that. However, he assumed it was because that was the starfigher he himself had deemed old before picking this one. Jumping on the moment of advantage, he sprang towards the station with his engines still at a green.

He looked at the computer's predicted arrival and saw it was 20 more seconds. It would take another five to fire. One to hit the control room. Maestro's eyes shown with glee.

As his starfighter shot forward, his finger inched over the red button to fire. Patiently he counted down, waiting for the box to hit red. That's when he saw in his monitors Velocity's starfighter shooting forward faster than his own. He had obviously drained his own weapons to get faster, but then that point would be moot because he couldn't shoot him.

Maestro once again examined his opponent's course. It wasn't a crash course either, it would land him directly in...front...of....himself.

"Damn!" cursed Maestro.

* * * * *

11:59:48

Ron gripped the controls with everything he had. His knuckles were turning white, which surprised him, but he hadn't had a chance to get into proper flight gear. Thankfully for him the starfighter hadn't gotten a crack or anything or he would have been ... spaced.

Pushing forward on the controls, Ron knew he only had a one second window to land in front of Maestro's starfighter.

* * * * *

11:59:53

Maestro knew that Ron's ship was about to land in front of his own. Counting the twenty second mark, he pressed down on the red button. The engines lit up as they prepared to fire. One second later the laser formed at the tips --- one more second after the last one they began to come together. Two more seconds later they sprang forth. Then, finally, the 5th second, they shot forward. He sat there, watching the massive laser bolts fly....

* * * * *

11:59:59

Ron's starfighter moved in front of the laser bolts as they struck his starfighter. The entire cockpit flashed a bright color and the world vanished with it...

Homeward Colony
April 23rd, 2200

The world was going to hell in a hand basket and it seemed all he could do was ride the tide. Ron Knight cursed the Tsivrixsh with every ounce of his being. Five months ago they had attacked Earth, wiping the planet's surface out, killing almost the entire population of the planet in one swift day. His family had died in that attack. His friends had died. He was...alone.

He didn't know how or why he was spared. Due to his skills with flying, the Armed Forces had readily accepted him three years ago and he eagerly joined. His family, despite their famed history with successful computers and technology, had readily accepted his decision to joined the Armed Forces. He had two other brothers who could do the world at the company. His entire family supported his decision.

The Armed Forces had moved him to this colony deep into space seven months ago. Two months prior to the attack. His loving family was still supportive of his decision, still wishing him to go on with his career, despite the fact he knew they would miss him. He promised to come visit on his first shore leave in two months. But by some chance of fate, it was canceled. At the time he was pissed and angry---then the news of the attack came.

So he was spared. The entire Knight family had been wiped out, to his knowledge. His sister was suppose to go from Earth to another planet that month, but if she made it or not, he had received no news. But in these troubled times and with Earth fallen, communication was scarce.

Walking down the hallways of the station, Ron sullenly looked around at his friends. Most of them had similar stories from the attack on Earth. They had all grown closer. Mankind HAD to if it was going to survive the upcoming years. Ron thought that he would probably have gone crazy if it wasn't for his friends. What would he have done without them?

Suddenly the alarms began to go off. It meant only one thing. A Tsivirxsh attack was upon the station. Blinking in fear, he felt one of his friends grab him by the arm and lead him down the hallway. As they ran into the hanger bay, they each dropped into the starfighters, prepping them up.

Ron excitedly began to power up his controls. He was finally going to get a chance to kill the aliens who had wiped his family out. Lifting the starfighter from the hanger floor, he was the third one out into space, just as the colony's shields were failing. He spotted tons of small fighters zooming about, smaller than his own starfighter. Locking onto the nearest one, both sides engaged in a gruesome battle.

About twenty minutes into it, Ron realized that the colony's forces were no match for the superior Tsivrixsh's fleet. There was only a handful of starfighters left for the colony and the colony itself had gaping holes in it's structure. Ron's feeling of hope and revenge were being washed out by a bitter, vile taste. They were about to die.

Roaring in anger, he turned the starfighter on one of the battleships and hit the boosters, his starfighter jerking forward. As it flew towards it, he blocked out the wails of his computer. Ignored the warnings flashing across the screen. He aimed straight for the bridge of the damn thing and shouted, "SEE YOU BASTARDS IN HELL!" Amazingly, one of his friends shot a fighter near his own, which caused it to go spinning. Straight into Ron's starfighter. The impact killed everything but his life support and sent his starfighter tumbling into space.

Ron himself blacked out.

* * * * *

The Savior
April 26th, 2200

Ron sprang forward, his ribs complaining...in pain. He looked around, his haggered breaths slowing him down as he looked around. He was no longer in his cockpit, but in some medical type area. He looked down and saw he was in a hospital gown and laying on top of a bed. A few seconds later, a nurse sprang over. "Ah see you're awake."

He looked at her, as if he were inspecting an alien. "Who the hell are...you?" he wheezed.

"Relax, 'un, your ribs are cracked and ah think the doctor said you were sucking in carbon dioxide by the time they pulled you out," she told him, thick on her accent.

"...the colony...did it...?" he asked hopefully.

Her face went downcast, answering his question right away. Ron's heart began to close up, trying to ignore his pain. The last of his friends were dead. "Ah'm afraid not, 'un. No one survived but you."

Ron leaned back against the bed, trying not to let his emotions overtake him. "Where am...I?"

"You ah' on board the Savior. We picked you a'up when coming h'are. You can stay ah long ah you need, you hear?" she asked.

Ron nodded. And he did for several more months. Wandering about and pitching in where he could, he slowly began to get supplies to repair his starfighter, which was salavageable. Then he learned of the Fury, and set out in his starfighter to find it.

* * * * *

The Fury
August 10th, 2200

Having spent about a month here, Ron enjoyed the city built inside the ship. The galaxy's largest ship had actually sprang a city of life. But for the most part, he kept to himself. His wounds were healed and his starfighter was seeing better days, but was far from battle worthy. Admiral Drake had let him park it in the hanger, free of charge, and made sure no one touched it. The people here seemed to enjoy the life.

Ron walked along the streets, his hands in his jacket's pockets, as he mused about what he was going to do. He wanted revenge so badly he could taste it, but at the same time he wanted justice. Not to go on some slaying trip along the galaxy. He wanted to make sure the bastards paid for what they did. Death would be too easy. He would make them suffer.

But there didn't seem to be any way of doing it. No one seemed interested in attacking the aliens. Except one group, which he kept hearing about...The Wraiths. Setting up a meeting with Admiral Drake, Ron sat down at a table and watched as the young man, slightly older than himself, sat down. "You wanted to talk to me, Mr. Knight?"

"Yes...I was wondering what you could tell me about the Wraiths," Ron asked.

The conversation that ensured was an interesting one. Drake looked to them as the galaxy's last hope, despite their obvious flaws. They were good friends and he knew that somehow, someway, they would find a way to teach the Tsivrixsh a lesson or too. By then Ron's interests were peeked so the following month, he left for Origin.

* * * * *

Origin
September 10th, 2200

Just a few days here and Ron knew it was hell. When he had first come here, he decided right away that he wasn't going to make many friends. In war, you lost friends. A lot of friends. One minute they were with you, next minute, bam, they were gone. Just like that. Nothing more to it. He didn't need anymore losses to haunt him.

And the Wraiths were proving to be disfunctional, despite their reason leadership and reasoning changes. Ron was half-wondering if he should just join the Alliance and be in the thick of the war. He was, in fact, about to transfer over when he first laid his eyes on her.

Elayne Hianule.

She had to be four or five years younger than himself. But there was just something about her that caught his eye and wouldn't let go. But he didn't bother reaching out to her, seeing that his leader was her...fiance...and that in itself drove him crazy. Snipe, the leader, was a complete and total asshole.

Ron didn't bother reaching out to anyone, until that fateful vacation day when he made close ties to Kyo'Yokuo and Elayne Hianule in order to survive. While it might not have been close to them, he had to let his defenses down in order to work with them as he did. And they just barely survived.

And that was how his time was at the Wraiths. Barely surviving, fighting with Snipe after his leading abilities, curiously watching Elayne Hianule, trying to become friends with Kyo'Yokuo, avoiding Garland Hianule, pissing Chip off where he could, finishing his starfighter...and most of all, simply trying to put his past horrors behind...behind him.

Until now...


Outside Origin
November 1st, 2200
Midnight

The horrors of the past year had flashed before his eyes with that blast and as Ron Knight leaned against the controls of his starfighter, gasping more with emotional pain than physical, his first coherant thought hit his head. He was alive. Despite whatever caused that chain reaction of horrific events in his head, he was still alive.

Gripping the controls on his starfighter, he switched complete power from the engines to the weapons and fired a blast straight into Maestro's starfighter, cripping the cockpit and damaging the engines. His weapons also died.

Leaning back in his seat, he realized he too had used up the last of his starfighter's enery and would have to be towed back into Origin. But he was alive. His thoughts fell on everything he thought about. Perhaps John McCormick, Snipe, was meant to be with Elayne Hianule. Or maybe Gravedigger, the reploid, was the one for her. But no matter what, he knew that somewhere out there, his own love would be waiting. But only if he could bring the Tsivrixsh down...and hard.

And that left Ron thinking about what he truly wanted more now. Justice or Revenge. Which would taste sweeter in the end. Right. Or wrong. Perhaps he would never get to make that chance. Maybe he would die tomorrow, shot through the chest by some nude maniac, like today.

Holding his shoulder tenderly, he hit the button. "Chip, Maestro's down, but we'll need a pick up in space."

Chip came back immediately. "Understood. Once we get you back onboard, head for the Control Room immediately. We have a crisis that will need as many Wraiths as possible to deal with."

Ron moaned. "Roger. Velocity out." He flicked off the comm with Chip and realized Maestro had hailed him. He hit the button.

"Well done, Velocity. We ended in a draw, it seems. I'll go back to my captivity and you'll continue to fly," Maestro said.

"I'm sure you and I'll fly against each other again. Or maybe you and someone else," Ron promised. Maestro was silent to that one.

"Tom Wilson."

"Huh?"

"My name is Tom Wilson," Maestro said matter-of-factly. "I told you I would tell you if you won."

"But we came out into a draw." Maestro didn't respond. "Ron Knight."

"Well, Ron, we'll see who comes out of this war alive. You or I. We'll see who's path is the right one. The Wraiths or the Tsivrixsh."

"I guess so, Tom..."

The two floated in space in silence with no more exchange of words. When in a galaxy of chaos like this, one simply had to rely on their own instincts.