Benen Harolus was doing very well, as were his troops. Three of the bombs were already located. When his communicator announced an incoming call from his old friend Burwell Everson, he was eager to report the good news.

"Everson! Guess what?"

"Standby Harolus, I have the locations of all the explosives for you, and the codes to their keypads."

The infantry officer was stunned. "Dammit! I though I had the good news. We've already found three!"

"You do good work killer. Now we just need a way to dispose of the ordinance."

"I've got that covered."

Burwell had his turn to pause. "Well then the ball is in your court. We're... done."

Harolus smiled. "That we are."

"I'll send you a little something to cover an evening of drinks for your boys."

A laugh. "They'll swear your mother was a saint." The information was shared and the line closed.

It was still within the hour when all the bombs were safely off of Union stations. Benen's platoon sergeant plugged a small accessory into the Lieutenant's handheld and handed it back. "Sir, at your command."

Harolus studied the map on the PDA in front of him. Five locations were listed, and a small map had the general positions marked. Each was an Itani convoy, and each convoy was missing one of the several hundred crates it thought it was carrying. Instead, the convoys carried Borb's weapons. The platoon commander hit a button without any ceremony whatever. In five separate parts of Itani space, a traveling convoy was erased by a short-lived ball of flame. "You may dismiss the men to the bar."

"Yes sir, good evening sir." The seasoned troop leader left his young commanding officer to deliver the news to the platoon with a grin on his face. At his command, the platoon gave a victorious shout.

Even with a half dozen bulkheads in the way, Benen Harolus heard, and felt giddy as a child inside. "Nothing beats this job," he informed his office as he shut the door.

A melodic voice shattered the silence of Burwell Everson's cockpit.

"You were being nice again!"

The voice belonged to a pilot whom Everson had both affectionately and unaffectionately named 'Stalker Smurfette.' He had half convinced himself that she was some sort of Itani intelligence gathering operation, or else something simpler, like psychological warfare. The other half of him was unhappily considering that a female Itani pilot just might so happen to be blushing whenever she heard him cursing out Itani on public channels. Neither was particularly appealing. Why wouldn't she just stop calling..

"You left last night quickly" she accused.

"I hope my leaving early didn't cost you money or anything."

"Just a very long trip to a wormhole." Melodic laughter.

"One day that might hurt you.."

Yes, my stupidity, I will not be distracted like that again."

"Why are you making me promises? That implies we 'have' something."

"Not a promise..a goal"

"I do NOT have secret Itani girlfriends!"

"Relax" she cooed at the warrior.

Burwell replied by snapping back. "How can I relax? We've been through this.. you're the enemy."

Conversations like this one were becoming the norm for Everson. She'd act as if she was impressed by his prowess, all under the guise of wanting him as a friend. It wasn't happening, and it couldn't happen. Burwell knew he had no room for complications anymore.

To make things worse, the Aerna transport robot he'd been chasing had gotten away, loaded full of Itani purified Xithricite. Completely unacceptable. Burwell set course for the Union's Edras station to wait for his next opportunity. Watching other pilots dock was always vaguely amusing, anyway. The next one in line was a Behemoth. How anyone tolerated that unresponsive a craft was a mystery to a fighter pilot like Everson. Exiting the ugly brick was a brunette, wearing an Itani trader uniform. Then something caught Burwell's eye. The name painted under the ship's glass was "Tohasandra Chi," this average looking pilot was his 'stalker' in the flesh.
Burwell was out of his hornet- a ship he loathed, but it had the ingredients necessary to hunt convoys- and approaching the pilot before his good sense caught up to him. What the hell are you going to say, moron?

They read the names on one another's shirts instinctively, and both froze. It was the Serco to speak first.

"Join me in the bar."

"Okay" she complied, stopping to watch him uneasily after entering.

"I never thought I'd run into you.. ever."

"I also am surprised..kinda scary."

"Scary huh? It was bound to happen I guess, if you didn't spend all your time in blue. I was never sure."

"I get around to most areas," she answered dismissively.

Burwell towered over her, crossing his arms. The sight of an Itani and Serco pilot in such proximity drew more than one glance from the UIT station security. "I see. Well, now it looks like you're regretting all the stuff you said. You've gone quiet on me."

"I am speechless." After a hesitation she added "I regret nothing!" Everson took a step closer. She blurted again, "Nothing! You don't intimidate me! I'm.. intrigued!" Burwell picked her up by the arms like a ragdoll so that their eyes became level. For her part, she feigned composure rather well. "Not even a little!"

The uneasiness gave way to the usual banter in a few minutes. Minutes after that, Burwell was looking for a way out. He insisted on buying her a drink, and as she tilted the glass he took his leave, even smacking her behind in an effort to discourage future interest on her part.

Everson was fuming. He wasn't pissed, he wasn't losing control, but every fiber of his being burned. It was just an hour since he'd thought he ditched that stalker for good. He'd nearly missed another convoy, finally turning it to fragments on the wrong side of the Edras/Jallik wormhole. So he'd decided to pop a few hive ships before returning, to let the station guards' heads cool. She'd called him again. Even guessed at what sector he was wasting time in. Then she showed up and started complimenting the floating collections of scrap metal he'd redecorated the sector with.

"Why spend the time, though?"

"Because your government sees fit to reward outlaws who waste their time this way with docking privileges." This was the point at which the fuming began. Burwell had sent his message on frequency 100 instead of to the local sector. In an instant, Serco from as notorious as Dr. Lecter to as lowly ranked as Burwell's mechanic were either berating him on public channels or in private communications. 'Traitor' was the term of the day.

Resetting his radio to sector, Everson growled at the girl. "Tunguska in Edras, now."

She persisted in asking why, but did not hesitate to follow. Minutes later as she debarked her ship, she was surprised to find Everson standing only a few feet away. She didn't even have time to speak a greeting before his fist met her face. Her body launched backward from the impact, smacked into the hull of her ship, and rebounded forward until she was sprawled face-first on the docking bay deck.

Burwell felt like he was fuming a little less, but the job was not yet done. "If we cross paths again, you die."

She responded with some sassy remark that Everson didn't listen to. But as usual for the girl, her tune changed when she realized how serious he was. "What do I have to do to be your friend?"

"You could duel me for that right. Such is the way of warriors, after all."

"But.. I've never.. I don't..."

"Then you best get out of my sight, you cowardly 'tani scum."

She didn't cry, and her only protest was something resembling "I thought I was smurfette." Burwell Everson wasn't really listening. His loyalty to the Serco had been challenged, and he suspected such damage would take far more effort to repair than to destroy.

"Fuck you Everson!" screamed yet one more Itani pilot with fragments for a ship and an escape pod to call home. To this one's credit, he'd turned to fight instead of running. It was a welcome change.

For the greater part of a week, Burwell Everson had been proud of his Kill on Sight designation in Itani circles. They threw everything they had at him, but he was always a step ahead. It took a seriously veteran pilot like Bronab to kick him out the first time. Since then, Burwell had spent more time firing bursts of positrons in Itani space than weapons of all varieties everywhere else.

"Come now, one of you has got to be willing to fight on behalf of your trainees! I demand real smurfs to shoot at!" Public spectacle irritated Everson, but it seemed to be the only way to call his enemy out of hiding.

"I'll fight you." The voice was female, confident, and registered Itani.

Another one? This isn't funny. Lady Serco above, this is NOT funny! "A volunteer, that is nice for a change. I'll meet you in Latos. You're familiar with it, right?"

"I'll be there," Jaida replied, "but I'm not much. I'm trying to improve."

The honesty, and willingness to stick out her neck, actually gave Burwell pause. Not since shooting Solestia's Valkyrie in that ion storm had he really seen valor in a blue uniform. Attacking their interior hadn't improved his opinion any.

An Orion centurion? She's got brains too Burwell admitted to himself as her ship lit up his radar. A few seconds later it was done, and Everson's ship had only the shrapnel damage associated with being too close when her ship went nova. Burwell transmitted the customary thanks for the honorable conduct of the fight "gf."

"WOW. You're really good!" Her exclamation caught Burwell off guard for a moment. Then he remembered she was the over honest and very forward type. "I can't aim well at all. You seemed to hit every time!"

"Takes practice, and losing a lot of ships." Why am I talking to this smurf? "Your movement is fine, don't change anything. Once you learn to use it to help you aim, you'll be set."

"Okay, thanks! Again?"

Why the hell not.. "I'll be here."

She scored hits this time, but Burwell had changed his game to allow it. No use discouraging a pilot like this into retirement. "I still can't hit you" she commented perceptively.

"You'll learn. Find someone Itani to teach you how to chainfire, that'll help. I won't do it; not making my job harder than it has to be." Everson set course for home, deciding whether or not to raid the Itani interior again the next day.

ooc: Yes, three posts at once. I only decided my direction after accumulating three darn posts.

31 Jan 4435

[202] <Everson,B> So you'll neither support nor deny my suspicious that you're using Itani women as psychological warfare, iry?
[202] <iry> i have no comment. your plight does however sound amusing
[202] <Everson,B> I'm glad SOME good has come out of this..
[202] <Arlina Solestia> Ya no shit. Long time no see, Burwell.

Burwell Everson froze, instantly recognizing the voice. It was her, and the plot had again thickened. After some quick thinking, Everson requested that his former prisoner meet him in Verasi. She agreed.

Small pleasentries were exchanged, and both failed in turn at humor. Once the food arrived, the enemy pilots got down to business.

"I don't know how much you follow reports.." Everson began, but was cut off by the lady.

"I do a lot of paperwork, I follow most of the reports I'm given to look at. You've been in our interior a lot recently, picking off brand new pilots who aren't combat ready."

Everson suddenly felt the urge to study his mug.

"Living up to the old SCAR credo? Kill off the pilots who just got their wings?"

"So you didn't check my IFF on your way in. I'm not with them anymore. My loyalty is in question. So, I figured stacking up some kills might help. I don't know why I'm telling you this trash. I guess I'm asking for your opinion."

"You're not a bad person. You're Serco, though, so that counts against you by default in a few places. Of course it also has the opposite effect in other places. I guess it's best to say you don't fit the stereotype."

Everson grinned slightly, "That is the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Don't expect it to become a habit" was her dismissive reply. They ate in silence for a few long minutes before she commented again perceptively "something else is bothering you."

"You could say that. You 'tani gals."

Solestia raised an eyebrow.

"One practically stalks me, you treat me like a convict, and still another wants to learn how to fly from me. Where is the happy medium? Where is the polite respect of your enemy for what he is?"

"If I were treating you like a convict I wouldn't be sitting here right now. In fact.. I don't particularly care where you stand as long as you're not going to kill me."

"I don't really want to meet you in combat again. If that day comes, just eject early."

She replied with a nod.

"So there really isn't like a club of you lady 'tani pilots anywhere? Because you all seem to have my com number."

"Not to my knowledge. I wouldn't be a member anyway. No idea why you have people calling you all the time. Not really my business either."

"I hoped you'd have something magic to say, I guess. Being a bridge between ours and yours looks grim, with all the killing I've done recently. But certain people still talk to me like I'm a teddy bear."

"Do I?"

"You wouldn't be so oblivious to my compliments of your eyes if that were the case."

"To be honest, they kinda make me a little uncomfortable."

"Understandable." Silence reigned till the end of the meal, after which Everson walked Solestia to her ship.

She hesitated before boarding. "Lemme know if you want dinner again Burwell, I don't really get out enough."

"Are you serious?" Her reply was a shrug. "Safe travels then, blue eyes." Everson pulled her into a friendly hug and rumpled her hair before turning to leave. Her facial expression of shock was priceless.

11 Feb 4435

Burwell Everson sat in his new office, located in his new headquarters. Stacks of unsorted training manuals littered the floor. On the desk in front of him was a small box, which he'd just finished opening. Serco Commander's insignia was staring him in the face.

So much had changed in so little time. The promotion was only sinking in now, delaying his already overdue task of putting crap on shelves.

The previous Monday, ITAN's brand new commander, iry, had inaugurated a serious effort to monopolize all the purified Xith for a second week in a row. No one opposed him, but Everson was tired of shooting at freight pilots. A little direct confrontation would do him good, Burwell decided, so he headed to Pelatus to confront the blue aggression with some of his own.

The engagements between Everson and ITAN were quick and fierce. While he never managed to get the upper hand, Everson fought the Itani to a stalemate with the help of some friends- both old and new to the war- that he made along the way. The pilots he fought were varied in skill and tactics, but only Commander iry himself consistently put up a better ratio of kills to lost ships than Everson.

All the while Burwell had been making new contacts. Fighting alone wasn't working, and he knew it. Numerous Serco were willing to assist, but simply not experienced enough. The growing need was present for someone to train these pilots up to the next level, but there was no one to fill the void.

Aggressive, front-line guilds like the Regiment just didn't lend themselves to training, Burwell knew. He'd seen their idea of training firsthand. 'Come on over and duel me' was their mantra. This was discouraging at best for pilots with little experience. But what if.. what if there was a place for younger pilots to learn? The idea nagged at Everson's mind all week. He bounced it off of a number of people, and got the same response from everyone but SCAR. The idea was sound, but naturally threatening to his former comrades. By Saturday Burwell was doing the paperwork to form the most recent of the varied Serco guilds. As pilots were mustering for a pitched battle in Sedina, Everson's tenth man signed. The Serco Defense Net was official, and in just a week completely redefined every goal he had ever held to date.

So Burwell Everson sat in his office, the weight of the new insignia already heavy on his shoulders, but with dozens of people helping to hold him up- at least verbally. He was in a position as never before where he could keep the fight clean between the Serco and Itani. His old dream of ambassador was reborn into teaching friends proper direction, while his new position provided him the power to negotiate that he had always lacked.

Everson pinned on the rank insignia quietly, then turned from his reflections toward his new duties.

10 Mar 4435

One month.

It was a month since Burwell Everson's promotion came through. Some things had changed, but he was largely unsatisfied with the state of others.

In large part both sides had been supportive. But then, there were more than two sides. The list of snares was growing. Everson had by now written his first discharge. ITAN, or more accurately LeberMac, seemed to be launching a PR campaign to discourage recruitment into the Defense Net. Leber had become the very definition of a determined thorn- or was he just drunk? No matter, he had issues of his own now. Touriuas was still abrasive at best, while certain 'neutrals' also had it in for Everson personally.

And the guild was not making progress. Oh, it was growing, but organizing training was proving quite challenging. Days simply did not have enough time in them. Perhaps a second-in-command could help to lighten the load of passing word.

What had gone well? The war. The very least of Everson's priorities, fame, was the biggest gain he'd made in a month. Itani pilots all over the unaligned systems knew that wherever convoys carrying precious purified xithricite roamed, Everson could be near. Battle prowess wasn't one of Burwell's goals at all; regardless, it had come to him.

Growing into his month-old job was still the plan of the day for Burwell.

05 Sep 4435

"Thank you for coming One. Time for your booster."
"Lady Serco, another shot?" Everson found it more than tedious at this point, especially since he didn't know what any of the injections did.
"What, you feel pain now?"
"Pain is temporary, pain is for the weak. I just don't know what they do."
"Have a seat, it might sting a little."
Burwell sat. Ooh a sting, big deal, but it isn't like sitting was a big deal either.
About ten seconds later, Burwell noticed his heart rate had increased. "Hey.. doc?"
By the time the doctor turned to answer, Burwell Everson was gone.
"Sorry One. We didn't need you anymore." The man picked up his comm to have the body disposed of.