A Memory Returns
10 May 2018Roober the Stroober
Remember a few entries back when I talked about not being able to remember stuff? Funny how combat brings weird things to your mind when you're trying to stay cool under fire.I was getting ready to nose over into an Eagle who had decided he was going to use a miner's Hauler for target practice. As he opened up on the rock-popper's engines, I pulled both triggers on the stick of my Vulture, simultaneously K-scanning him and blasting holes in his port engine. It's still amazes me how quickly those little bastards turn!
He came straight at me and let fly a volley of laser fire that just missed my canopy. We started a turning fight around a large asteroid on the edge of the ring at the High-threat RES. Now, when you know the other ship can out-turn you, you have to start thinking, thinking under deadly pressure. After all, once your shields are gone, the only thing between you and the eternal vacuum is a thin layer of transparent aluminum...
That's when the memory came flooding back. Nothing specific, just a mentor talking into my headset during a training battle, the fourth one I had failed that day.
"Roober, pick something that gives you courage when you mind starts to worry and your body starts to tense up," he said with icy coolness across the comms. "Focus on that thought and your breathing. Then, relax your grip on the controls and let yourself sink into the moment."
"Trust your feelings..."
I remember looking over at my squadron leader's ship flying just inches off my port side as we maxed thrust for another run through the scenario. Etched along the side of his hull in a menacing scrawl were the words, "Abandon All Hope..." I was so impressed by that message, and he was a pilot that could back it up.
Those were the last words that Eagle pilot ever read as I punched through his canopy after he tried one too many times to out-turn me. I stayed cool, remembered that vision of flying next to the best pilot I ever knew, wanting him to be proud of me. The action slowed to a crawl. The controls were lighter than ever as I gently tapped the trigger to deal the final volley. "Juss like butta," the old commander would say.
As homage to the boss whose name I still can't remember, "Abandon All Hope..." is etched on the side of my Vulture. Now I just have to spend the rest of my life earning it...