a torps. One hits, knocking down your rear shield. Spinning to protect your stern, you launch a heat seeker. Direct hit: the Corsair burst into shards. Stunned, the Darts run for deep space. Later, over a pint of Rigelian in the Lagrange cantina, you listen as a bounty hunter tells of the Scarlet Brotherhood, the most notorious band of pirates in the Far Arm. You hope it wasn't one of their Corsairs you vaporized out there...