Making-up-Mech-Pilots
@Making-up-Mech-Pilots

Mech Pilot who is putting squadrons of space-fighters out of work.


MiserablePileOfWords
@MiserablePileOfWords

"Fore!" crackled across the system regional channel, just before a massive static spike rendered it unusable.
Fooooom

Far, far away, near the jump point halfway across the system, another of the Trapp-Vorpal Family armada's attack corvettes abruptly decompressed into a glittering localised nebula, the sudden out-venting spinning it off-axis before it exploded, taking out another two.

"What do you think, K-D? What do we call that one? Par?"

"I'd say hole in one for this one, miss Eve." came back from her grinning spotter. "Oooh, I think I've found another nice 'course' for you. Hang on, calculating..."

The command band light started to flash angrily, and their CO's bark made Eve's speakers squeal. "Rainbow Bullet, the planetary defence force is no longer asking. Stand down!"

The ace mech pilot known as Rainbow Bullet rolled her eyes and keyed her mic. "We were ordered to stay out of the fight. I'm not in the fight. Nowhere near it, in fact. I'm just enjoying some R&R. What more can they want?"

A long-suffering sigh. "They want you to stop making them look bad, Bullet."

"I swear, you can't even golf in peace these days." Eve muttered.

Another voice broke in on the command band. Local override. Highly illegal, not to mention rude. Angry. Driven far past its limits. Frothing at the mouth. "Tell your crazy bitch of a pilot that yes, the game of golf is played with drivers, ha ha very funny, but that does not include demon-humping electromagnetic mass drivers, and if she doesn't stop interfering in our defence of our planet, we'll have to do something about her."

There was a horrified intake of breath, and her CO's choked "Rainbow Bullet, Eve, n—" was washed out by another massive burst of static.
Fooooom


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