The Wrong Call
07 Apr 2022Jannok
*CQD MGY*They say surviving mistakes is a luxury commanders can ill afford. They're not wrong. The following message was salvaged from a derelict Anaconda: "Captain's log; final entry."
*Oxygen Depleted in 15 minutes*
I was overzealous... It was supposed to be a standard job. Sure, the client recommended a full Wing to excise the pirates plaguing their lucrative trade routes. Soft bastards, the lot of them. I'd taken several of these missions without issue; made a habit of collecting the helmets of would-be renegades killing indiscriminately for pocket change. I didn't care-- blood money spends the easiest. I should've known that someday my previous work would catch up with me.
Arrived in the system without issue. Gave the command to my copilot, Daisy: "Disco Scan". She obliged with the typical chirp and located our target after a moment. "Not bad for a rookie." Just another kid hoping to get off world and see a bit of the galaxy. Labor as cheap as it comes. The readout pops up: Mission level 6-- 5 minutes away. Not that it matters; Daisy just needed to draw fire long enough for us to end the leader. You take out the head of the pirates, and they usually kill each other off after you leave. At least that's how its supposed to work. This job stipulated the entire enemy wing had to be neutralized-- no worries; the credits made the job worthwhile. The old girl lurched forward in low wake, her creaking a testament to how I'd neglected her care as of late. Didn't matter; one more job and we'd put into port for pleasurable company and libations. Little did I expect another ship to overtake us in the lane. The readout brought a smile to my face, "Mission Target". An early day then; All the better.
We pulled the vulture from super cruise. He tried to evade us for a bit, but eventually relented. "Power to weapons", I said with a grin. Daisy was already warming up the fighter. We'd ran this drill before; kill the wing mate to draw the rest of the crew out. One less fly to worry about during the real fight. Except this fly wouldn't die. He hung on long enough for the rest of his crew to pop in. Must be an elite outfit... no matter; we finished him and turned to the remaining 3 ships. "Draw fire, I'll take the FDL." Daisy chuckled knowingly and set the fighter on the other two vultures. Then things went sideways. An Anaconda dropped into our fight... then another, and another. "Deploy shield cell". 6 vs. 1 are terrible odds for anyone, but a job is a job. "Priority shift; take the vultures then the FDL." We fought on-- a mistake.
The chaff was so thick Daisy couldn't hold a lock. Those gimballed weapons meant as training wheels for my rookie pilot were losing us fighter after fighter. The bay could hardly keep up the demand for fresh assemblies. We eventually took out the vultures and turned to the FDL, ignoring the other Condas. They weren't a wing; just individual pilots with grudges to bear; likely for previous jobs-- rookies at best. Had I killed their parents, siblings, lovers? No matter; blood money spends easiest. "Deploy shield cell"... Nothing happened; empty already? Half shields should be more than enough; we've paid fines for the old girl's armor denting Corolis entryways. Daisy takes her cue and prioritizes the FDL despite the Condas picking at her shields. The rounds from the Multi-Cannons arc silently into the pirate's carcass. The remainder of his canopy is painted red before the ship finally gives. The old girl's shields drop as the FDL explodes. "Time to leave--Screw the fighter." I hit the button to politely excuse us from the fight... *FDL Malfunction* A glance over at the module screen shows that running away hadn't been an option for some time.
They take their time and focus fire on the old girl. She shudders a bit but keeps sending round after round into her cousins. Daisy pipes up, " Commander, we've lost another fighter." Impossible, I'm looking at the fighter drift aimlessly through space. Another glance at our modules tell me its been disabled. I can hear the panic in Daisy's voice, "We need to focus power on the shields!" Damn rookies. I need that energy for weapons. "Do your job. Get the AFMS going and prioritize the fighter bay." She nods her understanding as we end one of the three remaining Condas; its explosion splits the other two who orbit around us in tandem targeting our already taxed systems. Then against all common sense, she leaves her seat and heads deeper into the old girl. "What the hell are you doing? This is no time to abandon your post!" I'm beyond livid at her cowardice, but there isn't any time to address the breakdown of discipline aboard my ship. Daisy's gone radio silent, but I can hear her hammering away at something in the belly of the ship. Shields come back up as we sit at 50% hull. They won't last long.
The old girl pings a notification, "Shield Cells online". How the hell did that happen? Its a difficult task to keep the old girl on target as I glance through the module screens. I don't understand why, but I'll take it. "Deploy shield cell." The final fighter launches from the old girl's bay as the cells feed her dying shields. Impossible, the fighter bay still reads as down. Yet there's the fighter, with Daisy piloting in rare form; she splits the Condas apart long enough for the old girl to destabilize the enemy's powerplant. The resulting explosion drops what remains of our shields. "The smoke in the cockpit makes it hard to track the final Conda. We're at 30% hull and the modules don't look much better." I say into the void. Daisy makes an inspired move... She targets the old girl's canopy and shatters it. As the smoke clears, I bring the old girl to bear and unload everything the old girl has into the final Conda. He shifts targets to rid himself of the Daisy's newly acquired piloting skills. She breaks radio silence, "He's taken out my shields!" There's an uncharacteristic panic in her voice. No need to crunch numbers now; running away isn't an option. The old girl's aim remains true and at 5% hull we see the chain reaction happening throughout his ship. Both Condas continue firing... His grudge must be deep; the old girl at him, him at Daisy's fighter. The Conda goes before the fighter does.
"Solid work Daisy, Life support says we have 20 minutes to put into a station. Get your ass back up here." The module tells me the AFMS is dead.
"The fighter's not responding." Daisy sounds tired; not uncommon for a rookie after a fight like that.
"To hell with the fighter, we can buy more with money from this job. How the hell did you get it working again anyway?"
I glance over at the fighter and see cracks spreading along the canopy as it drifts away. The warning readouts are lost on me; cant make them out through the flickering display. Among the flashing lights is a message I'd never seen before. "MN OVBD" My stomach drops as the realization hits me.
"DAISY!!!"
"Take care commander, it was a good fight. I'll bet you were surp--" The fighter explodes in a shower of sparks and the rest of the message is lost to the void.
*Oxygen depleted in 5 minutes.*
"To hell with it..."
*END LOG*