Honeypots and Mistakes
29 Nov 2019Nirakoji
27 November 3305Hyades Sector DB-X d1-112
From the bridge of the Antioch
Where there is honey, there are flies. The Antioch was laden half full with a haul of Painite last night when an inquisitve band of treacherous pirates arrived. Having just fitted and rolled her out of the docks with plenty anti-pirate paraphernalia, I booted up my array of weapons. "You're not taking these goods by ill-gotten gain tonight, vermin!" I harshly muttered as I scanned the wing before me. A Federal ship of some middling rank, two Kraits of undetermined make, and a fourth - I never got a chance to identify him before the scrum started. Salvo after salvo of rockets unleashed from the Antioch's underbelly as the multicannons and pulse lasers went thermal on these tangos.
Trepidation. The Federal ship's shields inched down toward 15%. A furtive glance at my own. Curse these blasted D-rated thrusters, I wasn't moving fast enough to avoid their salvos. Lights began flashing, my shields dropped, and jaw-toothed limpets began racing. A sickening sawing sound came to my ears as my cargo hatch was breached. "Blast it, they'll only get pittance from me by tooth and claw." The Federal ship's shields began recoursing on my sensors. "That's it, I've had it!" Thrusting like mad to break free from the mass factor field around me, I locked on my closest target to high wake away as sirens were blaring. "Not now, Murphy..." My heart sank with a slosh into my stomach as my destination triggered on my HUD. It was on the reverse side of the asteroid ring I was mining. Spooling up my thrusters, I engaged my frameshift drive and supercharged it with a thruster boost as I sped toward the asteroids before me. "If I can just..." - the frameshift charge at 50% - "... get past these scum..." - hull peeling back like a tin can in a furnace - "I'll cut my losses..." - frameshift charge at 75% - "and finish my hull, thruster, and shield upgrades with this payout." The frameshift charge wasn't budging past 75%. Antioch wasn't mass-locked... She had hardly any mass left herself. Laserlights danced before my eyes.
It hadn't been more than a minute. Then the lights flickered, and extinguished.
27 November 3305
Thesiger Port, Gurabru
I woke up hours later in a station one system over. My body felt like electric heat was radiating over it, tight like I was wound up in a primitive fishing net. Pulsing. Throbbing. The insurance agent sighed relief as I came to, and pushed a digital pad in my face as his glasses slipped down his thin nose. I squinted in the glare that came off his shiny forehead. Everything was too bright. Everything was screaming pain - and every noise was like a nail being driven into my ears.
"Thank the gods that the search and rescue teams found you and your ship, Nirakoji. A few more minutes, and your life support would have been out." He preedled optimistically, voice like a cabin door a week overdue for grease. I wasn't so sure about optimism at this point. I placed my hand on the appropriate spot and writhed in my ego as what remained of my scant savings drained out of my account before my eyes. Classy of them to use a spooling ticker for their numbers, as if seeing the final balance wasn't demeaning enough. "A word of caution, my dear commander - you can't afford a mistake like that again. Never fly without a rebuy, we always say." I slammed my eyes shut and fell back into the recovery bed. Another word for him, and he would need to think twice about walking without a rebuy. I consciously unclenched my fists, willing myself to surrender into the embrace of the bed.
28 November 3305
Maia Sector
From the bridge of the Ephesus
Losses seem to trail me, of late. The Antioch is being repaired back in Cubeo. Returning to the Ephesus has been good for the soul. She's been a trusty ship, and having been retrofitted for exploration, I set about the task of rebuilding my ego and my bank account to have the Antioch back in fighting form. I'm not sure which will take longer to fix - my ego or her hull.
On the return trip from Maia to help an old friend meet Felicity Farseer's entrance requirements, the Ephesus was working through her paces marvelously. My friend, however, was fighting with his DBX fiercely. Due to limitations in our ships, we had been separated en-route but stayed in touch by comms. We relayed back and forth as I leisurely salved my soul by taking in the sights, scanning planets and basking reflectively in the suns that I traversed. One skid or two too close to a sun, my friend muttered tersely as he intrepidly continued his route, mind on his mission. "Nothing some fresh paint can't cover," I laughed about over comms as I reflected on the many times my auto-pilot saved my life from diving into one sun or another. Earning your wings in this life isn't easy. I breathed deep as I took in another stunning vista, spooling my drives to prepare for my next jump.
Crackling over the radio. "... da-... lost my alloy cargo... malfu-... -nto the su-..." His voice shrilled and crackled into a crescendo of anxiety, and then the comms cut quiet. A barely-audible hiss from a loss of connection.
Beauty contrasted with totally unexpected loss. A prayer was said for the SAR pilots in his sector. I wasn't aware of it, but I had been holding my breath. My joints ached and burned. I felt like a part of me went from the warm glow of Sol to a cool white of Maia. My hands rested loose and heavy on Ephesus' command seat arms. Space around me stretched and tore as my drives discharged toward my next destination.
