Edge of Io Space
After Insurrection Era, 0025
Seventh Day of the First Calendar Month
"So does this make us space pirates now? I know you and Joshua used to do Vulture.. uh.. mercenary work, but I don't remember any stories where you two were the ones hunting vessels."
Space has a great deal of gaps, the endless void promising a theoretically infinite choice of routes for anyone who wished to travel between colonies. But some paths were more commonly travelled than others, and no government had the manpower to police every inch of space. They had their spheres of influence, areas they could and would respond to incursions within - but this was not one of them. An unusally clear path through a former battlefield, the debris having been cleared aside long ago to allow for a rather easy journey through what would otherwise be a deathtrap.
When it was clear, anyway. Now a single MS seemed to have stationed itself on the edge of the field, with nothing but a few scattered radio transmissions betraying its presence.
"No, Nebula. We're here to observe. I don't want to get you involved with the Dominion unless we know this isn't a battle they're going to immediately win."
"Besides, we'd be highwaymen. Lurking on a throughfare like this, waiting for unwary travellers? It's textbook."
"Didn't they use bikes or something? We're using mobile suits, Joshua. That's different."
"You're right. I think we're.. footpads? I'll have to look it up."
"Is this really the time for this discussion? We're not going to rob anyone."
The Kshatriya had been maintaining this vigil for an hour by this point, monitoring transmissions from the free cities while keeping an eye on the space around them. Looking for a target - or possibly another group similar to theirs. It wasn't actively displaying any aggression, but frankly a suit like this didn't need to. Displaying an MS built during the insurrection era would be a threat even if it was deactivated, the mere presence of the machine making a statement of its own.
It had been fighting for twenty-five years, and showed no stage of giving up just yet.
After Insurrection Era, 0025
Seventh Day of the First Calendar Month
"So does this make us space pirates now? I know you and Joshua used to do Vulture.. uh.. mercenary work, but I don't remember any stories where you two were the ones hunting vessels."
Space has a great deal of gaps, the endless void promising a theoretically infinite choice of routes for anyone who wished to travel between colonies. But some paths were more commonly travelled than others, and no government had the manpower to police every inch of space. They had their spheres of influence, areas they could and would respond to incursions within - but this was not one of them. An unusally clear path through a former battlefield, the debris having been cleared aside long ago to allow for a rather easy journey through what would otherwise be a deathtrap.
When it was clear, anyway. Now a single MS seemed to have stationed itself on the edge of the field, with nothing but a few scattered radio transmissions betraying its presence.
"No, Nebula. We're here to observe. I don't want to get you involved with the Dominion unless we know this isn't a battle they're going to immediately win."
"Besides, we'd be highwaymen. Lurking on a throughfare like this, waiting for unwary travellers? It's textbook."
"Didn't they use bikes or something? We're using mobile suits, Joshua. That's different."
"You're right. I think we're.. footpads? I'll have to look it up."
"Is this really the time for this discussion? We're not going to rob anyone."
The Kshatriya had been maintaining this vigil for an hour by this point, monitoring transmissions from the free cities while keeping an eye on the space around them. Looking for a target - or possibly another group similar to theirs. It wasn't actively displaying any aggression, but frankly a suit like this didn't need to. Displaying an MS built during the insurrection era would be a threat even if it was deactivated, the mere presence of the machine making a statement of its own.
It had been fighting for twenty-five years, and showed no stage of giving up just yet.