GSF parody of Hamlet's soliloquy. Not exactly what I was originally going for, but it took a direction of its own.
To B or not to B, that is the question:
Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to preserve the central satellite, or to strike out into the unknown in search of salvation?
To A, to C... I'll go... And by an attack to end their reign over this map,
'Tis something desperately hoped for.
To A, to C... perchance to bombernest: ay, there's the rub!
For all the mines and drones and turrets clustered 'round the enemy node must give me pause.
That's the problem we must always face.
For who would bear the mess at B:
The ion's drain, the scouts' BLCs,
The slowing from interdiction, the EMPs,
The missile locks, the DoTs,
That bomber slipping out of reach,
When they may all their problems solve
With an assault on C? Why would any pilot stand
To fight in this enclosed space,
But for the fear of losing what they have
Attacking a satellite whose entrenched defences
Render moving into range impossible,
And makes us rather fight where there is help (and heals!)
Than to go alone where there is none.
Thus uncertainty does make cowards of us all,
And thus the opportunity of attack is lost
As I am targeted by scouts incoming.
And always the score progresses forward
Moving closer to the point of no return
With no time left for action. Yor, we lost B!