Me, Her, and the Ballistic Weaponry [Antique]

"Where the hell is it? Benz's place? Is that Hans' shit?

Ding the Dingo, president of White Dingo, an outlaw co-op proud of its massive power in this system neighborhood, voiced surprise at the three light points that appeared on the radar screen. There was a whirling rage in him that kept his belly boiling, but the surprise was bigger than that.

"Hey Dingo, that's a different story. What's going on!?

Next to Dingo is one man who tries to peek into the radar screen and tiptoe his desk in frustration. Dingo throws up "What do you know" when he turns his sharp gaze at the man?

"On this matter, it's you. I didn't tell anyone anything. If there is, fuckin 'low brain. There's only one chance that someone related to you might have tipped you off."

When Dingo says so in his awesome voice, he sees a powerful blow to the arm of a man who has been slapping his desk since earlier. A fist-like blow from Dingo's round-tailed arm easily smashed the bone in the back of a man's hand.

"Don't be so awkward, motherfucker. You, even if it's worth as much as a piece of plastic chip dumped in the toilet. There will be pride as an outlaw."

Dingo takes one, two steps and steps toward the man rolling down the floor holding his hand. He goes on to say, "It's what it was."

"It's all your idea to have chosen such a stinking abandoned station as your trading place and to hide your bumps in that soggy observation station. How are you going to take responsibility, you?"

Dingo fires another hard blow at the man who opened his mouth like he said something. The tooth-crushed man rolled over the floor many times and eventually stopped moving neatly on the spot.

"Hey, you're listening, you fucking owner."

I get a response from across the comms machine to a word that came out of nowhere.

"" Calm down, Ding the Dingo. We didn't do anything, and we haven't been informed of anything. If there is, it's a solo act of a man who's been killed by you right now. ""

"Ah? That's not a manly excuse, is it, damn it? I'll never forgive you for getting cocked. There will be rules in me that I have outlawed. You trampled him."

When Dingo fits into a large sheet made to match his body, he sends orders simultaneously to his fleet of eighteen. The order was concise, "Remind the traitor".

"" Wait, Dingo!! Don't go too fast!! We... ""

Dingo puts his face to begging for his life, which he hears from his comms, and drops the volume to zero just because it's boring. Behavior had already been decided in him, and none existed except himself who could overturn it.

"Shoot, don't miss a single ship"

Following an order issued quietly, simultaneous shooting of the beam begins from his manned destroyer. The beam pierces a homogeneous ship that was running side-by-side with his ship, generating a number of fireballs.

Eventually the beams were released from all of his 18 ships, and they reached the four ships at close range. The four ships continued to advance in their onslaught just about a minute by means of an automatic shield generator, but eventually sank one after the other as the shield battery ran out.

"All ships, full ahead. Don't let Mud Yarrow get away with it!!

Dingo shouts so, while at the same time issuing an order to resume the attack, which had been halted by sinking. He wasn't going to make a survivor who might one day come to avenge himself, he was going to make this place the tomb of all the traitors. He has done so and intends to continue to do so.

As he headed to the abandoned observation station, he continued to shell the wreckage of the ship over the next two hours. The goal had already been turned into a fragmented wreckage, and the last one had had enough difficulty finding a target for the shelling.

Boss, he's in a warp position.

Dingo, who was staring at the radar screen, gives orders to the ship using BISHOP without saying anything when he punches a big tongue in the report from his men. He had decided that jamming by warp jamming would be impossible at a distance, concentrating its entire nerve on tracking drive particles.

"I won't let you get away... I'll chase you everywhere and tear you apart"

Eventually, in less than five minutes, the tracking (tracking) device he is absolutely confident will succeed in locating the target three warp destinations. When Dingo makes a grin, he orders the warp of the entire fleet toward the determined coordinates. But...

"Boss, the drive's space reservation has been denied. It could be an electronic warplane over there."

Reports emanating from subordinates. Dingo said to it, "You idiot!!," he yells, kicking the table on the display hard.

"If there's an electronic fighter, why did we find him? Shit. Think, motherfucker. The opponent is a large ship."

When Dingo first discovered the three target ships, the distance was still considerable. No matter how poor it is if it is an electronic warplane, it is also a sufficient distance to hide its existence. The fact that the opponent was an electronic fighter could not have been based on Dingo's experience.

"There's no possibility of a decoy, but if we were to wait, we would have used an abandoned station. As long as they're not stupid. Eighty-nine out of ten, they must be running away."

When Dingo distorts his face to the pleasure of pursuing his prey, he immediately recalculates his warp destination. The target escaped into a thin area of drive particles and cannot fly continuously. It was his garden around here, and there was not a single place I didn't know.

"Identification signal from target. It's a general signal."

After a warp from the prey to where it was distanced, reports from his men enter in no time at all. Dingo frowned inexplicably at it and said, "What are you going to do?," he murmurs.

"Are you going to pretend to be a coincidence? What's the point?

It is clear that the prey was embezzling Dingo's traded goods, and now the other side is in the run. It's too unnatural to pretend to be a coincidence, and above all, it was too late.

"Well, you can tell by the second hand. Eating on a bastard's ass."

When Dingo divides the troops into two parts, they change course so that each pinches the target. The target appears to be a large ship, as Dingo expected, and its speed of travel can never be said to be fast. It seemed possible to reach enough enemies before reaching the point where it would be possible to jump.

"All ships ready for battle!! Sanction the traitor!!

Dingo screaming. Plus "Sanction the traitor!! response from each ship."

"It's a big ship over there. I'll shoot you first. Get ready for defensive manoeuvres!!

Each ship slowly begins to re-orbit to respond to Dingo's voice. As the frigate hides behind the destroyer, the destroyer begins to slide diagonally as it faces the target.

"... that's odd"

When five minutes passed after Dingo's fleet laid defensive formations? The target hasn't fired any more attacks when he said he was entering our range. It wasn't like there was no such thing as a large-calibre short-range beam cannon, but the target didn't look like one of those gunships. The shadow already obtained by the scan was that of a common cruiser.

"... what to do. Do you want to keep picking up the enemy?

When he squeals so much as he tells himself, he trembles at the unpleasant feeling that has gradually gushed out. Something was wrong, his instincts said. And that intuition is also why he has survived to this day.

"Boss, what will you do? Do you want to pick up communication?

Dingo turns his gaze to the display, to his subordinate's voice. There is an indication of the communication request from the target, which has been repeatedly sent from earlier.

"Want to connect? No, what are we talking about where we're connected?"

When Dingo mutters like he's talking to himself, he decides to ignore the communication request. I thought a few ways about what would be spoken from the target, but I didn't think any of that would be a meaningful conversation. I'm not going to beg for my life.

"All ships ready to fire!! Target, cruiser!!

All turret bays of 18 fleets are opened and turrets are directed towards the target. He also first thought about dropping the destroyer, but saw the opponent's manoeuvre and immediately discarded it. The opponent lays a similar defensive formation to this one, and if he dropped it there in a short time, he could have rested behind the cruiser. The beam shield is restored to some extent by time.

"Let go. Yes!!

With Dingo's fury, a total of nearly a hundred blue beams are emitted. The beam goes straight to the cruiser.

"Beam jamming!! Correction, hurry!!

- More than half of them draw distorted curves, and then go. The other half toward the cruiser is hampered by a thick shield, which will remain in place for a small explosion. Normally, a few rounds should be through the shield, and Dingo is convinced that the opponent is a skilled fighter.

"They're professionals!! You guys are dying to eat it!!

When Dingo screamed like that in an attempt to make a breakthrough to his people. One of the destroyers running at the head of his fleet blew up its hull on all sides without any foretaste.