A Rookie Mistake
28 Jun 2023Doc Scalawag
"Proximity Alert." Celeste reported. I unfastened the tether holding me to the bunk and propelled myself into the cockpit. After strapping myself into the command seat, I looked at the scope. It was Brenna. His Fer-de-Lance twenty or so kilometers away and closing. Out of range for weapons, but not for long.I thought I had been so clever, hiding in realspace. It had never occured to me that all Brenna had to do was jump ahead to Casper Ring and follow the trade route toward Korovii. It never occured to me that the search radius actually got smaller as I approached the station, now only a day and a half away. All Brenna had to do was wait for me to come to him, and that is exactly what I had done.
"Such an idiot." I muttered under my breath as I started warming up the FSD for a jump. I watched the status bar fill, quickly at first, then slowing significantly when the larger ship's mass began to interfere. I thought for a moment that I might be able to jump away before Brenna brought those big guns to bear on Second Heartbeat. It was close, just as streaks of light began emitting from the bounty hunting vessel, seemingly instantly travelling the couple of kilometer between us, and sending blue ripples dancing across my hull, Celeste started her countdown.
"Three. Two. One. ENGAGE!"
Second Heartbeat didn't lurch into supercruise, though. Instead, a warning appeared on the info panel. "Module malfunction." Celeste reported in her annoyingly emotionless tone. Frameshift Drive offline.
"Shit." There wasn't anywhere to run. I sat in the command seat, staring blankly at the lightshow displayed outside the ship. Just staring as though that was all it was: a harmless lightshow. It wasn't harmless, though. In seconds, Celeste reported that the shields had failed. I snapped back to reality, pushing back the despair that was rising in my throat. I kicked Second Heartbeat into a dive and slammed the booster, all the while flipping the FSD toggle over and over again, hoping for a response. Another alarm sounded in the cockpit, an audible chirping and blinking red lights.
"MISSILE INCOMING" flashed at the top of the heads up display. A white dot streaked across the screen, zipping toward the little red-orange triangle that represented Second Heartbeat.
"Well," I said too calmly as I flipped the trigger for the ECM. "You didn't have those last time." The countermeasure worked, and I was rewarded by the sight of a missile zipping past the cockpit and exploding harmlessly in the distance.
Unfortunately, there was another missile behind it, and a third behind that. Second Heartbeat shuddered with the first impact. Warning lights flickered across the instrument panel, indicating a plethora of systems that were badly damaged, some destroyed completely. I flicked the ECM uselessly, trying to divert as many of the missiles as I could. I knew that I was only buying a little time; for each missile that was diverted, two found their mark. Each impact sent chunks of of Adder spinning into space, twinkling in Korovii's light like tiny stars, themselves, as they drifted away from the doomed vessel. The fourth missile to hit the ship exploded above the canopy. For an instant, a spiderweb of cracks appeard across the transparent surface, before the entire canopy, unable to sustain the difference in pressure between the ships interior and the vacuum of space, exploded outward. My Remlok mask slammed down hard enough to rattle teeth, and I greedily gulped down the fresh air it provided. The half-dozen fires that had erupted around the cockpit blinked out, unable to burn without oxygen, the smoke that had filled the ship was sucked into space.
"Hull Integrity: Critical. Emergency Life Support: Online" Celeste spoke into my headset. Aside from my heart pounding in my head, the COVAS was the only thing I could hear. The sound of my ship dying around me, the occasional explosion, and the impact from another missile, were muted by the lack of atmosphere in the ship. I never heard the bulkhead behind me give way. I didn't hear it slam through the command chair, sending a long, jagged piece of spaceship through my chest.
It didn't hurt as much as one would expect. Getting shot was worse. There was pain, sure, but it was distant. Perhaps I was in shock. I glanced and the large metal shard protruding from my chest. Blood briefly spouted from the wound before the Remlok flight suit could seal itself around the injury, staunching the bleeding and securing the metal beam in place. I stared at the crimson spheres that floated up in front of my face. Every breath was an immense struggle, and my vision was already starting to swim. Pinned to the command seat by the metal beam, I painstakingly reached forward and placed my left hand on the console, my fingers resting on the series of three switches that would begin purging the cargo hold. There wasn't much in there: A couple of black boxes, some salvaged containers of clothes and food, and a single limpet. I would have laughed if it hadn't hurt so bad to do so. Still worth more than my bounty, I thought bitterly as I threw the switches. Maybe that will sate him?
Thump, Thump, Thump the ship jolted and vibrated in silence as it fired off each cannister in rapid succession. The FDL's onslaught stopped as the ship desperately emptied the containers into space. For a moment, I thought it might have worked. I allowed myself to hope that the monetary value of the ship's cargo would be enough to stay the hunter.
Without a canopy, there was no HUD to indicate that there was, in fact, another missile on the way; no scope to display its progress as it streaked through the void toward Second Heartbeat. Without air, there was no audible alarm, either. The only indication that death was a few seconds away was a tiny red light blinking on the console.
"No..." I whispered pleadingly. "Please, no." Then the missile struck.