Into the Inferno
22 Nov 2020Seth Bradwell
16:00 GMT, November 20, Kepler OrbitalI arrive at Kepler Orbital after stopping off to acquire the latest ship in my fleet, an Anaconda I have christened the Libertas. Yes, dear diary, I finally bit the bullet and got what many believe to be the ultimate ship for any role in the galaxy (even if I have till now considered them overrated). The problem is that in order to make an Anaconda into the ship that gives it its reputation, you need to spend at three times as many credits than what it takes to purchase the stock ship. I held out for ages because no matter how many credits I made I always thought the initial outlay plus the extra insurance costs prohibitive, and you can't dock at outposts either. But for now the Libertas will not be doing any kind of combat, being devoid of any armaments alongside having rudimentary thrusters, shields and power plant. But she is an investment into the future, albeit very much a work in progress, and even when fully specced she will definitely be complementing rather than supplanting the role of my main ship, the Edge of Sanity. The main appeal of this ship is that has the highest potential passenger capacity without requiring a naval rank unlock. With basic shielding to protect me from all but the largest prangs whilst docking and undocking, there is enough room for 10 cabins housing a total of 194 passengers.
My newest pride and joy, although it will be a while before she does anything other than passenger evacuation missions
I was not prepared for what I saw when I first arrived at Kepler Orbital. I have seen Galnet reports of Thargoid attacks, and of NMLA bombings of Imperial stations. But nothing prepares you for what you see when you jump out of supercruise to witness it for yourself:
Credit: CMDR Dragorion
Credit: CMDR Johnson ST
Seeing the station all burnt out and mangled, one wonders why it hasn't just disintegrated: kudos to those who build and design starports. The comms chirp with announcement from the flight controller. "Attention pilot, the Federation has declared a state of emergency in this area. This station has suffered severe structural damage and Federal Flight Control are re-routing traffic to alternative destinations. Unless you are part of the emergency response team do NOT attempt to dock here!" The poor fellow is obviously trying to keep calm but his warbling tone betrays his fear. "This is DeLacy Lima-India-Bravo requesting docking. I have come to assist with the evacuation." I respond. "Thank you Commander!" cried the Federal flight control announcer, thinly disguising his relief. "A landing pad has been assigned to you. Prepare to deploy heatsinks on entry and be aware of debris in the docking area, prepare to make sudden evasive manoeuvres!" I slowly make my way through the toast rack, all bent and distorted as I entered the hellfire that awaited me. Very soon the heat gauge on my ship started to rise alarmingly fast. I struggle to avoid colliding with the wreckage of a loading crane, now floating around in the middle of the docking bay, when an explosion knocks me right off course. I struggle to correct as my HUD lights up to warn me of obstructing a pad. I push hard on lateral thrusters as I try and get the ship back onto my own assigned pad, avoiding an automated fine by seconds. I finally touch down whilst barely having any shield left, and am lowered into the hanger as soon as the docking clamps engage. I feel a rush of cool air as the ship's core temperature is stabilised. "Docking complete. Head over to the passenger lounge for evacuation contracts. Don't hang around." said the flight control announcer.
I make my way to the passenger lounge, where sheer bedlam reigns. For a station this size there is usually about a thousand people here at any one time. Presently there must be at least several tens of thousands of people, young and old, rich and poor, all crowded together. Security tries to keep order and distribute emergency supplies as they await evacuation. I make my way to the contracts desk whilst fighting though the crowd, where a young woman is being shouted at by a group of angry people. "Sorry I don't know when the next ship is either!" she snapped at me. "I deal with pilots seeking passengers, try the main desk!" I square my shoulders. "I am a pilot seeking passengers."
"Eh?"
"I said I am a pilot seeking passengers!"
"Not so loud!" she shrieks. "Do you want to leave here in one piece? Look around you, there have been people waiting here hours, many needing vital medical attention. If they find out you have a ship out of here they'll maul you alive!"
"Sorry. But anyway, let me know who to pick up and I'll start preparing the ship."
"Okay, well Atropos & Co currently four contracts needing to be picked up for 4, 7, 12, and 22 passengers, with respective fees for the job of 50,000 credits, 75,000 credits..."
"Just cut to the chase. Tell me who has been waiting the longest and assign me those."
"How many passengers can you carry?"
"194. Just assign me that number of passengers. Who they are and what they'll pay matters not to me."
"Okay, I have selected 15 contracts from across the board, which maxes out your available cabins, and will provide you with a fee of 1.4 million credits on arrival at the rescue ship. The details will be in your transactions panel when you return to your ship. I recommend you get back there ASAP. Oh, and thank you. In spite of all our efforts the queues just get longer, and every ship counts. Good luck."
One hour later
"Why are you here, Imperial? Come here just to mock us, no doubt!" an executive for one of the Federal corporations said, angrily.
"Do you want off this station or not?" I shouted indignantly. "You can always catch the next one, you know!"
"Damn, right, okay then. But don't think you can get away with sending me to one of your slave markets. I have friends who will..."
"Just get on the ship, okay? I am lifting off in literally one minute, I want to hang about here as much as you!"
"Humph, okay then, it's not like there's going to be anyone else coming." The disgruntled executive makes his way up the boarding ramp.
I have been able to roughly divide my charges into two groups. One are just grateful to get on a ship off the station, and cares little about who the owner of the ship is and understands that an evacuation vessel will not have the creature comforts of the luxury cabin of a Saud Kruger liner. Then there are those like who I have just been dealing with, expecting to be primped and pampered with no thought to the fact that they are leaving a disaster zone.
"Hey, pilot! You really expect me to be share a cabin with those ruffians?" the disgruntled executive shouted over the cabin's comm system. I had assigned him a cabin which was also occupied by half a dozen members of The Peculiar Brotherhood, one of Atropos' more colourful organisations. A total coincidence, of course. "Yes, I do expect you to share a cabin with 'those ruffians', and I should pipe down if I were you. You may anger the wrong person, and then all of a sudden you are involved in a tragic 'accident'." I respond.
"You wouldn't dare! This is Federal space, you Imperial scoundrel, and I will put a bounty on you so high..." I cut comms at this point. At the same time, one of the Brotherhood members has decided he had enough.
"Quit your whinin', punk, or I will give you something to really complain about." one of the Brotherhood members said, with a fearsome expression on his face.
"Ahh... sorry, didn't mean to cause offence." the Federal said nervously, sitting back in his chair.
"DeLacy Lima-India-Bravo ready for launch." I announce to flight control. The landing gantry jars and judders as the Libertas is brought to the surface. Almost immediately the heat warning alarm sounds as she is raised from the hanger. The Libertas was almost at the top when there was an almighty crash as one side of the pad supports gave way. I fire up the vertical thrusters and prevent the ship from falling uncontrollably into the hangar as the docking clamps disengage. Immediately I deploy a heatsink and retract my landing gear. "Watch out for debris above you, Commander. Hope you can get out in one piece." said the flight control announcer. Bearing that in mind I apply just enough vertical thrust to get me away from the surface of the docking bay, and then slowly move forwards towards the mail slot. I just about make it when an explosion sends me veering towards the exterior bulkheads, taking out my shields plus 10% of my hull. Worse still I am informed I am now trespassing inside the station. I struggle to regain control of my ship, and again point the ship towards the mail slot, watching as I am notified of a fine and seeing the countdown to lethal response tick down. With 30 seconds to spare I exit the toast rack and hit boost to get as much distance from the station as possible. "Libertas to Kepler Orbital. Please reconsider your trespass policy in light of this challenging situation." I say to flight control. "Sorry, sir. It's an automated system." replies the flight control announcer. "Then disable it! I am trying to save lives here, and this set up endangers them!" I indignantly retort. "Sorry, can't do that. The systems responsible were damaged during the initial attack, rendering it impossible to shut off. Anyway, you are out of the no-fire zone and your FSD should be online. Good luck Commander."
I set a course for the rescue ship and enter supercruise. Half a minute later I arrive and I request docking, and set down on the megaship and into the hanger. "Thank you for travelling with Bradwell Spaceways, I hope you have had a pleasant journey. Prepare for disembarkation." I watch the external cameras as my passengers walk down the boarding ramp, spotting the grumpy Federal executive, who not only had acquired a black eye during the brief flight but was now reduced to a jibbering wreck, having to be helped off by two fellow passengers. I access starport services and reluctantly pay my fine, and then go to the arrivals lounge in order to collect my fees. Five minutes later, I was on my way back to collect more refugees.
Three hours later
"Is that it then?" I ask the woman involved in assigning passenger contracts. I had managed to pick up the remaining contracts whilst still having one third of my cabins vacant.
"For now. We have had several pilots take up the slack, although the number of refugees needing to be processed keeps on rising. But you have helped to make quite a difference. Look how much calmer it is." said the woman.
I take a look. The passenger lounge is still a hive of activity but is a far cry from the chaos of just a few hours ago. Regular announcements are being made of the next ships off the station, and for now it seems that the evacuation effort is as well organised as it can be. "Okay, for once I will not complain about having empty cabins. I will be off and return tomorrow." I said.
"Please do. This isn't over, and it's only thanks to the every pilot's effort things haven't completely collapsed. But hopefully I can soon be relieved for the night and get some rest."
"Aren't you going to be evacuated?"
"Unlikely. Us essential staff will stay till the last minute. We have been assigned an evacuation shelter in the main office, we are as safe as we can be on a burning station, and if all else fails there are still some escape pods in this part of the station. Hopefully with a little luck the authorities can stabilise the damage and then repair work will begin."
"Stay safe then."
"You too Commander." She then makes a PA announcement. "Attention all passengers. The next ship off this station will depart from Pad 9."
22:00 - Euler Hub
I dock at one of the other stations in the system, since there is only one large landing pad on the rescue ship which is needed by other evacuation vessels, and I appreciate being somewhere normal. I tune in to the latest Galnet report, nothing to report that I wouldn't have guessed, relations between Empire and Federation are still at a low and now there are violent protests at Federal embassies across the Empire as angry citizens take out their frustration on the Federation. Yet again the Empire makes the call for all Marlinist refugees to be repatriated, whilst scolding the Federation for their naivety. Meanwhile the Federal Vice President makes another accusation of Winters for allowing the refugees here in the first place - something in light of the most recent attack has caused Winters' popularity to be dulled somewhat. I turn off Galnet, not really learning much new, after today the political squabbles of the superpowers are taking a back seat in my mind, for now the evacuation effort is my main concern. I turn in for the evening, getting ready to do another load of refugee runs on the morrow.