Saturday, 23 October 2010


The Velator disgorged its pilot into the transfer tube to the dock. Laria stormed down the tunnel, her expression etched into a frown. For the second time in as many days, she was fighting to hide the tears that threatened to creep from her eyes.

Oh, she'd taken the Instigation #1 into the engagement willingly, alright. Knowing that it could be lost. Knowing that her own life was at risk. But the impact of her ship disintegrating around her was something she hadn't expected. She'd flown that ship on many operations. Indeed, it had been the ship that had taken down the criminal Davan in that prolonged battle. It had done good service, and it deserved a better end than being snared and shot to pieces like it was nothing better than a Serpentis Scout.

Without conscious thought, she had made her way to her quarters. The "Message Waiting" display was flashing, as she entered. Still lost, her mind stuck on the dying, flailing, Incursus Frigate, she opened it. There was a picture of an Incursus Frigate, fresh off the production line and fitted out. She keyed its name into an instant reply, knowing that its registration would be instantly processed. Out of the ashes of Instigation #1 - and, Laria admitted ruefully, the insurance money - Instigation #2 rose like an angry phoenix. Laria would gain vengeance for her loss, she swore, the white knuckles of a tightened fist the indicators of her passion. She wasn't sure on whom, and she wasn't sure how, but vengeance would be served.

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