Today's episode, in which I get my tailfeathers singed.
01 Nov 2016Birdnose
I was in a combat zone, and I had badly overstayed my welcome.My friend and wingman[trin], Cmdr Krell, had just had her beloved Vulture shot out from under her by five Anthill Mob ships. Now the same group of fighters had ganged up on me and I was on the run. My shields were down, but I knew I’d be either be out of there or in an escape capsule before they recharged, so I diverted power to the engines, trying to squeeze every last drop of thrust out of the Scout’s stubby frame.
I retracted the hardpoints, and waited for the FSD to boot up. It seemed to take an eternity. I was outdistancing my pursuers but I was still taking laser hits, and I was running out of chaff to fend off the missiles.
The FSD came online. I was far enough out to not be mass-locked, and they weren’t going to try to interdict me, so I hit the supercruise toggle. The FSD started charging. I was still above 40% hull. I was going to make it.
A missile slammed into the back of the Scout. The FSD aborted. THRUSTER MALFUNCTION appeared on the HUD, and suddenly I was coasting, with no control. I wasn’t going to make it.
I glanced at my hull integrity. 30%. I looked at the scope...it was going to take them a while to close the gap again. Fumbling through the menus, I found Reboot/Repair, one of two options that you only select if you’re having a really bad day.
The ship went dark, and for an agonizing amount of time it clunked and whirred as the auto-repair system tried to cobble together working modules out of the smoking scrap that was left in the equipment bays. Meanwhile, my attackers lost weapon lock as the ship’s heat signature decayed, buying me precious time. The ship powered up, and I had thrusters again. I slammed the throttle forward and hit the supercruise switch.
Behind me, a fighter launched two missiles, and I watched the white pips track closer. The chaff launcher was dead. Swerving would only decrease my velocity vector away from them. I flogged the damaged thrusters mercilessly with the boost button, watching the first missile close the distance. The FSD went into its final countdown, locking my controls. I braced and closed my eyes as the ship shuddered under the impact of what I assumed would be the killing blow.
When I opened my eyes again, the ship was traveling placidly in supercruise. Somehow the thrusters had held together. I assessed the situation. 8% hull integrity. Canopy so cracked I thought a hard sneeze might blow it out. I had to get this thing docked as soon as possible. I aimed for Maya Point, the nearest place with repairs.
As I watched the planet approach through the cracked, distorted canopy it occurred to me that a planetary base might not have been the best choice; compared to a station, there were so many more opportunities for things to go wrong. I flew the approach as conservatively as I could, and managed to drop out of glide without doing any further damage. I was on an easy, straight-in approach when the thrusters failed again. The ship was falling like a brick -- but in slow motion, given the low gravity. I watched my altimeter reading drop, looked out the side and saw the ground getting closer; there was no time for a repair now. Suddenly, the thrusters came to life again, halting my descent. Normally my landings are ARRIVALS, with an exclamation point, but this time I landed like the ship was made of eggshells.
I lowered into the hangar and climbed cautiously out of the ship. The air smelled like hot metal and burnt plastic. I didn’t even look back, just turned the ship over to the repair crew. I needed to find someone who’d give me a cigarette so I could calm down. Then I’d wait for the rescue ship to arrive with Krell. She’d need some consolation, given the insurance deductible on a Vulture.