[h3][b]The [i]Indomitus[/i], on the fringes of the Procyon system[/b][/h3]
[hr]
[center][i]"SHOVE IT UP YOUR FUCKING ASS! I'm the Captain and doctrine says follow the chain of command! If the boss has an objection he can very well make it himself!”[/i][/center]
The XO stiffened, clearly unprepared for such language being hurled across the hallowed deck of an Imperial bridge. He opened his mouth to respond, then hesitated, his eyes following the Captain’s gaze toward the seated Prince.

Cassian Ardentis did not intervene. Reclined in his throne-like command chair, he merely watched the exchange with faint amusement, one brow curling upward as if the argument were little more than a diversion. After a moment, he offered the XO a lazy nod and waved a dismissive hand.

“The last I checked,” Cassian said mildly, “it is the Captain who commands the ship, Mr. Crow.”

Beyond the bridge’s armored viewports, the void erupted into violence.

Lances of laser fire and streaking kinetic rounds crossed the debris-choked expanse ahead as the merchant convoy’s shattered remains slowly tumbled through space. On the tactical displays, hard contacts flickered in and out of focus: ghosting, resolving, then vanishing again as sensor returns struggled against interference. Pirate mechs emerged from behind broken freighters and ruptured cargo haulers, their cores old, scarred, and brutally utilitarian. They were using the drifting wrecks as cover with a practiced ease.

Lucia leaned closer to her console, jaw set as she tried to impose order on the chaos. The debris field alone was degrading the [i]Indomitus[/i]’ sensors; layered atop it was a dense web of electronic jamming that distorted rangefinding and target locks alike.

[center][i]“Ironside ready! Your majesty, I request to take the vanguard as we approach the Venture!”

"Baron Wilhelm, with all due respect, the Black Knight's command-and-control suite is too integral to our overall coordination to risk in the van. Please, allow me to take your place, should the Prince will it."[/i][/center]
Sitting towards the rear of the bridge, Cassian seemed genuinely surprised as more of the eyes of the bridge turned to seek guidance from his throne. 

“Oh, well of course the Baron should take the lead, given his wealth of experience.” A flash of what could have been chalked up to nerves vanished from the Prince’s face, as he put on a practiced, confident smile. “Lieutenant Dvalin, see if you can’t keep up with the Baron’s advance. Perhaps you might even learn a thing or two.”

Lucia winced. While the words were polished, she worried that Cassian’s inexperience would be more than apparent to the Lance’s experienced pilots. She also doubted that the Lieutenant would appreciate the tone.

Before the aide could step in to smooth over the Prince’s orders, Onyx-9’s channel erupted with activity. Pressing a finger to her ear, Lucia pushed aside her concerns about the Prince’s lackluster approach to personnel management and focused on the frantic sounds of combat.

“Onyx-9 has been engaged in an ambush. At least three hostile armored cores are active in the area.” Lucia paused, obviously listening to more updates coming to her station. The sensor readings finally started to stabilize as addition data started streaming in from the [i]Phantom[/i]’s vantage point. “Make that five confirmed hostiles. They appear to be moving quickly to blunt the counter-boarding force before we have a chance to defend them.”

Reviewing the information streaming through her console, Lucia felt a brief sense of relief as she received confirmation that the Commander’s dropship had responded to hails. The pirates had clearly been aiming for some kind of a decapitation strike, attacking the middle of Onyx-9’s formation as they had.

“Onyx-9’s vanguard is approaching the [i]Guildcrest Venture[/i] and taking sustained fire. All counter-boarding elements are advised to make haste to the vessel. Once you’re aboard, their cores can’t target you..”

Lucia shifted her attention outward again, scanning the wider battlespace. The pirates’ concentration around the [i]Venture[/i] had allowed several surviving merchant ships to pull back, but not all had escaped unscathed.

“Captain Ganishka,” she said, opening a secure channel, “we’ve received a distress call from another convoy vessel: the [i]Percheron[/i]. Their reactor was damaged during the initial raid and is at risk of going critical. Their damage control teams are attempting field repairs, but they’re requesting immediate assistance.”

She reviewed the diagnostic burst the freighter transmitted, brow furrowing as dense, nigh-indecipherable technical schematics filled her screen.

“Mr. Hartwig,” Lucia continued, immediately looping in the Lance’s chief engineer as she sent him a copy of the files, “We have a friendly vessel suffering from reactor trouble, I would appreciate your assessment of their situation. If intervention is feasible, we may be able to deploy limited engineering support - provided the Captain believes the Indomitus can maintain a safe posture while doing so.”

She glanced back toward the tactical display as fresh contacts bloomed amid the debris.

“Time is not on their side.”