War is a state of organized, armed and often prolonged conflict carried on between states, nations, or other parties, typified by extreme aggression, social disruption, and usually high mortality.
The Black Rebels in the heaving, sweaty bar tonight didn't care about the risks of War. War for them was just some rules and procedures that had been laid down by CONCORD so that they could go about their sinister deeds with no reprimand. The music was loud, brash, but their focus wasn't on the music it was focused on the list of targets in front of them. One of them took his drink, over half-full and downed it in one.
Most of the Rebels had a bad security status, a lust for murder and the way of the gun had led them down this path and they didn't care. But for those who looked after their security status and for those who watched carefully over aggression and the what we can and what we can not engage in the battle field, war was their time, their time for murder without sanction.
The list of targets was long, a blue screen from a small digital tablet shone in the corner of the bar and shimmied up the wall, creeping through the darkness as the Rebels talked tactics over the music and debauchery sizzling around them. These pilots who took to this way of life, the chosen few were tonight like frenzied warrior ants. War was on the horizon, months of bloodshed was a few bill payments away.
Like some savage mercenary army the pilots would be ready for the cold killing, no mercy, all bullets and no diplomacy, no rest for the wicked as they say. They would kill and would be killed, they won't stop though, clone insurance paid up to date, medical supplies not a problem, firearms and bootleg spirits aplenty. Ships and supplies stacked, throw-away frigates to pristine high-tier tech III cruisers. They don't care much for stats as long as they are getting their kicks, the showmanship and the camaraderie is uplifting. Kitted out in all black combat suits, black masks and dirty leather, these few looked the part too, slick, scary, well-polished looking criminals.
This appears to be the start of a sustained campaign of terror aimed specifically at those who deem themselves safe in the walled comfort of high-security space. This is the making of a menace, there will be no end to this.
MB.
lol...got some today.
ReplyDeleteThis shit is terrifying me!
ReplyDeleteDamn i had to go -10...better tear them up!
ReplyDelete-Zodiac Black
You punk ass Rebels you...
ReplyDeleteThe Registration plate shall bear nine characters, laser branded into the reflective sheeting and would act as a permanent consecutive identification number. The hot stamping film shall bear a verification inscription.
ReplyDelete^^^ wtf
ReplyDelete