Logbook entry

The Hodkin Chronicles Part 1 - Negative Operations

28 Dec 2016S. Hodkin
19th June 3300, Rotanev

Another day in uniform, another day of sorties in the Rotanev system on behalf of the Federal Navy. Standard protocols - Find the criminal gang operating in the vicinity of Ride Ring, Rotanev; use normal wing tactics and eliminate the threat; return back to base; repeat until completed - right? Wrong..

Romeo-134 Wing was our official name in Federation Naval records, but we were better known by our nickname, The Furious Angels - given because we had been involved heavily in humanitarian work until March 3300, then we were thrust into the world of active combat duty, and by Gaia were we fierce when called to action stations; pure and unadulterated anger and fury dispensed through the rouge of a military-issue pulse laser and through the very core of our hearts.

Angels was also used due to our relative youth compared to other wings in the operation; myself at 23 and a Midshipman, my brother Cadet James Hodkin only 19, my good friend Midshipman Asher 22, and our CO and sole female member of the wing WO1 Díaz the eldest at 26, and a combination of various experiences and expertise.

We were rallied at 0700, Intelligence had confirmed the presence of 3 smuggling ships around 300Ls away from Ride Ring and being the only wing on active roster at that hour, we were sent to neutralise the threat. We were told it was a few Sidewinders and possibly an Adder, lightly armed and with all shields down. Nothing too difficult we thought as we geared up and went through the usual group briefing-cum-pumpup session. The usual routine: Huddle, Motivational speech from one of us, prayer and action, and that didn't change that morning as we left the station with our heads held high and fire in our stomachs.

0711 - We picked up the signal of the small grouping of enemy vessels and went through our usual tactics one last time, following usual Naval protocol as deviation would almost certainly lead to disciplinary action later. We all dropped at once and began to approach in the usual 4-ship formation. Díaz was leading as senior officer at the front in the Cobra Mk III, Asher at the back of the diamond in the Sidewinder and myself and my brother James the sides in Eagles, not our ship of choice due to a strong preference for Adders, rank determined otherwise. As soon as we saw the ships, worry began to enter my mind..

There weren't three ships, there were seven, all Cobra and above in class and armed to the teeth. Retreat was worthy of a court martial, and comms were to be near silent according to protocol, then the battle commenced. The 2 Anacondas of the gang began fire and we broke formation, lasers and multicannons firing on us like boulders towards flies - heavily outarmed and outnumbered we did as best as we could while I radioed in.

"Midshipman Hodkin SJ to Ride Control, intel is red, I say again intel is red! We have a wing of 8 against us heavily armed and delivering heavy fire, please advise and send heavy reinforcements.."

Silence, complete silence..

Within five minutes James' Eagle was destroyed like a mosquito, completely obliterated just as he ejected successfully, at least he would be safe.. until a sight that made my heart drop like a stone in water, a heat seeking missile aimed directly for his capsule. At the same time, Asher had ejected due to his Sidewinder taking a majority of cannon fire, his capsule well out of sight within minutes.

As I continued to evade rather than fight back, I soundlessly screamed as I saw the missile directly hit my brother's escape capsule head on, shards of metal visible but little else. He was gone... A few minutes later I realised that I was the only ship still intact, WO Díaz having ejected but her capsule having been taken in by the leading Asp, a prisoner of war as it were.

As I continued to power the Eagle away as swiftly as I could with limited hull integrity and little oxygen, I had but one choice, eject or have the same fate as my brother. Squeezing into a capsule that was barely sufficient for my tall frame, I clung on as the Eagle prised itself apart under cannon fire. Sensing I would be lost, I hauled myself into the still open capsule and pulled the door closed as my life literally depended on it.

And then everything went completely black and silent for me.

[This log was done in the middle of last year and is dredged from the spamfest that E&R consists of nowadays.]
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