[center][h2][color=orange][b]Adam Gilford[/b][/color][/h2][/center]

	The Starstrike had dutifully escorted the [i]Explorer One[/i] out of the Area of Operations, and was in the middle of returning to it's allies when a high-priority alert flashed over a maintenance screen for a moment.
[color=red][WARNING: Command Network Abruptly Lost.]
[ALERT: Command Network Reacquired]
[ALERT: Command Network pushing update to critical systems]
[i]S-AM_CNM_Restriction_0SEC: Pattern Recognition Trigger[/i][/color]
The stilted, feminine voice of the Starstrike's Pilot-Assist patched into his helmet almost immediately.
"[i]Semi-Autonomous Mode violation. Critical Security Risk. Physical compartmentalization enacted. Core isolation enacted. Pilot Assist insecure. Risk of Pilot harm: High. Risk of network breach: High. Emergency Shutdown initiated. Stay safe, Pilot.[/i]"
Adam felt a chill run down his spine as his Flight-HUD stopped showing anything but onboard sensor data. "[color=orange]What the hell just happened? How are we supposed to get back without navigation data from the [i]Pandora[/i]?[/color]" He could see the settling dust-clouds from the fight, and several IFF signatures his "compartmentalized" systems couldn't properly interpret. Adam keyed his optical zoom and maintained course. "[color=orange]Coloration matches our friendlies, so at least we won, right?[/color]" The silence in his cockpit felt oppressive.

	maintaining stable flight, Adam set himself to the task of getting his cockpit in working order, retracting the now defunct maintenance screens and setting his flight controls back to the old 11-G Defaults. "[color=orange]Figures, first mission out? Some weird alien weapon climbs out of the dirt and installs malware in Starstrike's head. A new frontier, new sights to see and of course [i]a new security update![/i] Just what you'd expect visiting your first unsettled extrasolar planet![/color]" Adam loudly complained to no one as he worked, going through each control surface to ensure he missed nothing. He experimentally toggled the Starstrike into a stock flight-stance, and was rewarded with the Starstrike stiffly obeying, and a change in flight path. By now he was closing in on the battlefield and his allies, but with the vast majority of his electronics inaccessable or unresponsive there was no telling what was going on beyond a lack of hostilities.

With a hard thrust-braking maneuver, Adam brought the Starstrike to a hover, and then cut all thrust, unceremoniously dropping the Orbital to the sandy surface. A weird sense of regret nagged at him for a moment as he made landfall. With no time to dwell on it, he set his Orbital to amble towards his allies. As it mindlessly marched, he pried open the compartment concealing the Starstrike's emergency-kit and began rummaging through it for the hand-radio he hoped still worked after years in space. dragging the dull grey plastic box from the satchel, he zipped the kit up and unceremoniously crammed it back into it's hiding place. working quickly, Adam one-handedly attached it to a nylon strap on his upper arm before connecting it to his helmet. Reaching up and keying the radio from his helmet, he heard the familiar burst of static. 

[color=orange]<<This is the Starstrike, does anyone copy? Something tripped a major failsafe, and I'm out everything connected to the network.>>[/color]