290 Tweedle Dumb

The Reavers worked like mad to get their weapons specifications changed on short notice, while the military fleet bore down on them. Once the fleet was fifteen minutes out, they were too close for their formation to disrupt the signal anymore, and everyone was in for a shock.

"Sweet mother of God, they sent the entire fleet. Did they really fake an invasion of Kepler space in order to ally with the Rebels and try to wipe out a few Kepler Officers and a Reaver Company?" Max muttered as he counted the vessels and updated his evaluation of the combat odds.

[Looks like we've got all the friends now. That new weapon configuration had better work Tarith, you know the rules.] One of the other Reavers broadcasted.

Once their ship had taken fifty percent or more hull damage they were no longer obligated to stay for a battle and could leave. Nobody signed on for suicide missions.