Carrier Orion
Shipboard time 17:00
Theta 3 gazed out the porthole, caught in a starscape reverie.
A nudge brought him out of it.
Theta 2 was there with two drinks and handed him one. When she noticed there was something bothering him, she paused.
“Listen,” She said matter-of-factly, “It’s a break. Try to relax. One said we might not get another one for a while. After that business at Protana, I heard they’re looking at a full system sweep.”
At the mention of Protana, Three’s face became blank. “I know, I know. My brother was at Protana.”
“...Ah…” Two gritted her teeth in mortification, “I…”
The alarm cut off her fumbling response.
Across the room, Theta 1 stopped mid-war-story and crushed his can in his hand, throwing it effortlessly into the receptacle. He called to the room, “Showtime.”
One ran off towards the hangar, followed close behind by the rest of Hunter team Theta.
“What do we have?” He spoke quickly into his ear-comms.
“Sensor trip. Warning from one of our automated refuel and rearm stations. Designation Structica. Readings show between 2 and 5 small craft matching configurations favoured by groups including the runners.”
“Structica…” Spoke Two, “Isn’t a ship docked there?”
“Correct, Two. The cruiser Falling Fury. Ordinarily she’d be able to handle it, but she’s not done her refit. No munitions aboard and only a skeleton crew.”
They soon reached the hangar. Deck crews were just finishing up preparing the team’s ships for launch.
As Theta 3 climbed the ladder up to the cockpit of his Scythe-class heavy interceptor, he looked back at the other craft and their payloads, bristling with the top-grade tracking and apprehension equipment, and nodded his head. They’d catch these guys and find out just how they had taken out an entire carrier. Failing that, a homing missile would make sure they couldn’t escape. Protana was the last time the hunters would be caught unawares.
