[h2] Commander Stader Volger[/h2]
[b]CO 89th LSC (Onyx-9)[/b]

Volger supposed his first mission with this command couldn’t have ended in a straightforward manner. 

His tactical display populating a worrying amount of new symbology and hulls that were marked in that dull red color of hostile. Securing the [i]Venture[/i] meant nothing of the pirates retained naval superiority. 

A scream, distorted by a helmet’s voice modulator, echoed from a nearby vent. Faint buzzing and rattling accompanied the warbling cries of terror. Volger ignored the sound of the buzz bots at work as Captain Ganishka tried to task Onyx-9.

[quote=@Wernher]
[b]"Onyx-9, does this rust bucket have anything that can shoot at the Cores dancing on its hull? Ironside, Hypo and Armatus, try and keep the frigate distracted if you can. Phantom, we have incoming strike crafts with nuclear mining charges strapped to their missiles, try and take out as many as you can before they can fire."[/b]
[/quote]

The commander shrugged as he keyed to one of the platoons securing the bridge. The platoon leader helpfully already on the vital deck; consulting with the ship’s XO on potential crew holdouts when Volger’s query arrived. 

The answer that came back was as he expected. 

“[color=82ca9d]Onyx-9 Actual to Indomitus. Negative on the guns. Pirates slagged them all in their way in. Frigate picked them-[/color]”

Volger paused as a bolt of inspiration struck him. The Shrike-class frigate nearby that moved abroad of the [i]Venture[/i; fearing nothing from what it thought was a few cores or a stricken merchant. A class of frigate that had been replaced mostly due to a few design flaws. One of which alone would be crippling but if exploited in tandem…..

“[color=00a651]Onyx-9 Actual to Lance. I have a plan to deal with that frigate. Peel those cores off our hull and we will make you an opening. For the Empire!”[/color]

Volger didn’t much care for signing off like that. But he found that it was an effective way of ensuring someone didn’t try to pick the conversation back up. 

He pulled up Lt. Diaz and the platoon leader for the troopers still clearing the debris field on the TacNet. The latter group now mainly hunkering down amidst the increasing expenditures of ordinance.

“Prep two squads of hull breacher’s. Pack them on frames and make sure they have a code breaker with them. Wait for the lance to make an opening.”

Down the hall a access hatch opened. A pirate, a professional in that drab blueish gray armor came out sans weapon. The man had just clambered out when the trio of buzz bots that had been tailing him in vents followed the pirate’s escape. 

Buzz bots were expensive. Volger never quite understood how that trio of chrome machines cost as much as a stomper mech. But the rapidly vivisecting pirate in front of him was a testament to well spent imperial credits. 

Or partial vivisection judging by the continuing scream of pain turning gurgle. The buzz bots, their programming satisfied, trundled back into the vents in search of more pirates. Their signature buzzing fading in their wake. Their victim, still alive, if one could call the mess of armor and flesh still living. 

Volger paid the body no mind as he made his way to the starboard airlock to prep his part of the plan. Behind him a trooper took pity on the pirate. 

“Bad way to go mate.” The trooper offered, half sympathetically, as he leveled a handgun at what he nominally identified as a head and pulled the trigger.