ORC's Vero Bad Day (ORC Dominion of the Vero Hex)

[Frielle Kinniak]

Vero

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The first scores of verdant met their mark but the others continued to sail through the clouds. Frielle felt the X-Wing jerk in the air as she held the yoke pulling up and toward the right, Red would now have to turn his bird around if he wanted to get another chance. It wouldn't take him long to give chase as she continued to climb upward with Red beneath her the two locked parallel to one another. She was making a tight vertical turn down at the moment he was moving up the pitch was too tight for him to take a shot. For Frielle though, she'd get her chance if she could just adjust the nose of her bird. Again her heart beat against her chest while sweat formed between her skin and the fabric of the helmet. The target-lock sensors bleeped as they attempted to lock while the altitude, gravity, and other sensors added to the chaos.

"Hesitation only hastens the grave." Her father's words echoed in the spacer's head. "When you get the chance you gotta take it, it's do or die out here kid."

She let loose on the guns, crimson-magenta hued whispers of death burst forth from their barrels littering the sky in a show of lights. Red's bird felt the sting but pulled out of his turn to escape most of the damage and Frielle's torpedo lock. Red maneuvered his bird in a lag pursuit of the X-Wing he'd try to stay in Frielle's blind spot but unfortunately, this was a commonly practiced tactic in the Alliance. She easily reversed the turn and as the two starfighters locked in pursuits over Vero skies continued their fight. The Coalition steadily made their move across the planet, contact from the Qi'ra - Frielle needed to wrap it up. It was definitely easier said than done especially when her opponent seemed to have the upper hand.

Frielle's pride almost refused to have her call for help, even though it was becoming clear she needed it. As talented as she might be, something in her gut told her that this Red starfighter was toying with her. Making an example even, and she hated that feeling of being used. Perhaps that is what added to her determination. Lumped in with what she could now say was Galidraani pride that pushed her harder here. The revelation by her father Ferrathias in a note that was meant to be sent on his death. A note, a blasted note when he himself could not be brought on to say in person. Ferrathias Kinniak was, in fact, the son of Fiolette Yvarro now Raaf. It meant that she and her siblings were the grandchildren of this foul and dare she say even traitorous woman.

A rage induced scream escaped her as she desperately tried to find an advantage against her opponent.

 

[Servant]

[member="Deacon"]

It seemed quite apparent to the machine intelligence that the attempts at contacting the humanoid pirate had been successful, though, there was a possibility that the organic's visual apparatus had failed it, and it had incorrectly identified the Host as being one of its personal droids. It was disappointing that the current model of host was not equipped with any form of vocalizing device so that he could communicate directly with the fleshy being and dissuade them from their mistaken course of action, but, at absolute best it could synthesize a series of beeps.

Fortunately, the nature of the pirate's deception quickly became apparent after he took the effort to conspiratorially whisper to the astromech, offering a platitude which had likely often found itself into the repertoire of the notorious criminal about restraint from inflicting harm. The Intelligence was not programmed to excel at the detection of deception, nor was it wholly capable of performing it itself, and a review of available programs revealed that no codex could be consulted on the nature of organic lies and treachery. Nevertheless, it seemed unlikely that the organic would offer assistance off of the planet if it intended solely to annihilate the Host. Assuming that other actors were rational beings had been proven false in the past, though, the Intelligence was uncertain of what other qualification it could use to determine assorted probability simulations.

Nothing of exceptional value would be lost even if the Intelligence was incorrect in its review of the pirate's intentions, and so the Astromech gently began to wheel away after the organic, its crimson eye flicking back to the genteel blue shade it had undertaken when it had first been manufactured so as to dissuade any unnecessary attention from the local populace. Meanwhile, the Intelligence sent out a brief paging call to the multitude of agents under its own control, recalling them from their activities and to the vessel so that they could be prepared for takeoff at a moment's notice.

With the information regarding its existence wiped from local sector hunter databanks, and a potential ally revealed in an exceptionally talented organic whose criminal records had been recorded and downloaded by the Intelligence for potential use in blackmail at a later date, it could not be argued that the Laws had been followed correctly, and that the survival of the entity had been secured for the foreseeable future.