Recalled from Reserve
19 Oct 2024GFMAnt
I've never really thought anything I did was worth logging, but back in August I had the closest run fight I have ever had. I just had to write it down now because, even after mulling it over for weeks, I still can't believe it.It all began on Thursday the 19th. Out of the blue, I'd been issued my recall to active duty with the Federal Navy. The orders were terse: “Rear Admiral GFMAnt, Per the Federal Navy Auxiliary Reserve Act, you are hereby recalled to the fleet for Anti-Xeno duty for a period not to exceed 14 days. As an O8 in the Auxiliary, the table of entitlements indicates you are responsible for your own vessel, outfitting and expenses and Federal remuneration will be nil, noting Pilot’s Federation bounties. You are to report for duty at Cady Port, Laumas System in 21 days.”
While I had 21 days to prepare before reporting to the front, I surprised myself by being ready in just 3. In that time I: met up with Selene Jean to dramatically reinforce the hull of my Federal Corvette SS Laura Jane; became acquainted with Ram Tah to prepare my heat sink banks with expanded magazines; travelled out beyond the bubble to a Guardian site to collect materials for new Anti-Xeno equipment; earned the system permit to access Prospect's Deep from Azimuth Biotech; arranged a deal for six Enhanced Guardian Shard Cannons and two Module Reinforcements from the brokers there; and, finally, parted with a princely sum to fit it all to my ship. My orders rang in my ears every time I parted with credits: "... Federal remuneration will be nil."
With all that done, I reported at Cady Port as ordered, arriving on the evening of Saturday the 24th. After a few rough sorties that I don’t care to recount in detail—complete with full hull-losses and combat ejections—I re-learned the Anti-Xeno tactics I'd forgotten since fighting at Asterope a few years earlier. I am a planner, not a fighter, and there’s plenty that are better than me at both of those things. I’d done what I could to stack the odds in my favour with new weapons, plenty of armour, and some sage advice from the Anti-Xeno Initiative aces. But even still, I couldn’t help but think the Federal Navy High Command were scraping the bottom of the barrel recalling me… and I had plenty of time to ponder that fact while I drifted in space waiting for the rescue teams to collect me.
However, after a few dozen combat sorties, I was beginning to get into the swing of things. In fact, on the evening of Monday the 26th, I had achieved a personal best: in one patrol, I killed 3 Cyclops’ and half a dozen Thargons. I'd broken-off and returned back to Cady Port in good order. I was feeling proud of both the kills I achieved and my discipline in knowing when Laura Jane had had her fill. But just as quickly, my discipline evaporated and was replaced with overconfidence. Stupidly, I decided to head back out. "Just one more sortie" I thought to myself.
Things immediately went wrong, starting with being hyperdicted. I wasn’t worried because I’d scored easy kills this way before, so my overconfidence grew even more. But immediately I botched my attack, opening fire on the Cyclops too soon. Trying to compensate, I then started opening fire too late. Nothing was working. At 30% hull remaining I decided to break-off and run for home, but it was then that I realised my FSD was toast. Thankfully I had fitted an AFMU earlier, so I engaged it. But I soon realised it was only just keeping pace with the damage pouring in, and I wouldn’t be able to restore my FSD enough to make a jump.
Running scared, with Laura Jane getting hammered with fire and with no hope of jumping away, I went through the calculus I had already been through a few times on this deployment: run and lose the ship for certain, or fight and maybe survive. So I kicked Flight Assist back on, pulled back on the stick and fired the boosters. Screaming back towards the Cyclops, I put full power to weapons and—at 999m range precisely–I unloaded six full magazines of enhanced shard ammunition directly into the xeno. It groaned and then exploded.
And that was when my luck really turned sour.
The exploding alien showered my hull in caustic debris and razor sharp fragments, shattering my canopy. My Remlok visor slammed shut and I immediately looked to the clock: 7 minutes of air remaining. I turned to my AFMU counter, watching it tick down as FSD integrity ticked up. 3%. 4%. 5%. Timing the agonisingly slow increase, I calculated it would take me 3m20s to be ready for a jump, leaving me around 3m40s to cruise to Cady Port and land. Caustic debris was eating my hull’s remaining 12% integrity but at a slower rate, and I calculated it should still be at 9% integrity by the time I landed. As the FSD’s repair status ticked over 50%, I punched it… only to find I had insufficient fuel.
Hurriedly I picked out a new destination that was closer: Njambula. With the new coordinates set, I jumped and prayed I wouldn’t be hyperdicted again. Thankfully it was a quick and peaceful jump. Relief started to set in. But just as quickly my heart sank again: as I locked onto Kotzebue Terminal, I realised it was too far away to reach before my oxygen expired. I’d calculated my life support expiration based on the short trip from Laumas A to Cady Port, but Kotzebue was a far greater distance from its parent star.
However, in a moment of inspiration, I remembered my nav filters were set to exclude fleet carriers. Filtering them back in, I found that the Galactica (JBX-BTJ) was only a few light-seconds away. Gasping for air as I landed on the deck, I scrambled for the ‘stow’ handle. With only 2 seconds of life support and 8% of hull integrity remaining, the Galactica’s deck closed above me and the hangar pressurised. I set my AFMU to repair my life support and, thankfully, there was just enough left to restore it to 12% integrity. That was sufficient to limp the few thousand light-seconds to Kotzebue for proper repairs.
I had made it. Just. But despite my burning lungs, shattered canopy and cratered hull, the Thargoid that had almost killed me was dead and I was not. I had prevailed, and for that I allowed myself a little glimmer of pride.
But then I looked at the repair bills and sighed.
"...Federal remuneration will be nil".