A Hydra Falls: My Journey as an AX Pilot
03 Nov 2023Haston LaGrone
When I began my time as a pilot I was nothing more than a simple data courier. I completed my missions with diligence and promptness, working up a reputation as a reliable worker. With enough credits built up over the months, I purchased an Anaconda and shifted my focus to mining. Painite was in its heyday and accumulating wealth had never seemed easier. A rating all of my modules and configuring my Anaconda for exploration stole back much of the credits I made from this endeavor. However, it was all a means to an end.I had seen the footage on Galnet of the Anti-Xeno pilots fighting the Thargoids. Each time an interceptor was conquered, a new and stronger variant seem to materialize out of the dark, inky abyss the Thargoids called home. While overwhelming firepower and enough wing mates could bring down these champions of darkness, often the interceptor took many ships with it in the process. Few could face them alone and rise victorious.
These glimpses dragged my memory back to my first encounter with the Thargoids. How swiftly they crippled the ship, killed or abducted most of the crew, and disappeared into the void. The fire of vengeance grew ever brighter in my soul with each incursion I watched play out. Seeing the list of the missing scroll across the screens only fortified my decision. I would be idle no longer, I would have my revenge.
At the time, I only had two vessels. My Anaconda, outfitted for deep space exploration, and the remains of the Python that had faced the Thargoids what felt so long ago. I was in a tough spot, as I did not have the credits to purchase and outfit an AXI recommended vessel or the materials to engineer it to the lethal machine I needed. But I had my Python. A ship many relegated to the abyss of mediocrity in AX combat. A jack of all trades and master of none. Perhaps I let my personal feelings hinder my development, my love for the ship overriding my logic. Or perhaps I had a point to prove to myself. Regardless I made a decision, I would use the Anaconda to collect the credits and materials I needed out in the black. When I returned my Python, the Silent Guardian, would take its place in the defense of humanity.
While it took some time to get my feet under me, I finally began working my way up the chain of interceptors. The lowly cyclops posed less of a threat than I had imagined. Sheer will and brute force was enough to beat it into submission. The Basilisk however was different kind of beast. Its speed and armor put the heavily engineered Python's engines, hull, and weapons to the test. While I eventually wrestled it down, the fight called for a more precise and skillful tactical approach.
Then came the Medusa.
Facing the Medusa for the first time was a shock. It far outclassed the Basilisk in everything but speed. It didn't need it however. The cannon could shred a ship to ribbons in a moment, while its dense hull could absorb an incredible beating. I toiled over and over again to defeat this enemy, but had to flee many times. The Medusa demanded precision. It demanded skillful execution of the tactics so diligently refined by the AXI. After many tries, and many fails, I finally found victory. It was a brutal fight to the very end. I would go on to face the Medusa quite a few more times in an effort to refine my flying prowess. I also acquired the Modified Shard Cannon which further improved my lethality.
Only one enemy remained, the Hydra.
The Hydra had loomed in the back of my mind since the first time I saw it. The might of the Thargoids personified in a single vessel. A seemingly unstoppable force deployed to single handedly wipe out wings of ships at a time. Entire AX conflict zones cleared out by a lone monster. While I had been present for a handful of large scale conflicts in which Hydra's were deployed, and even defeated, It was always with the help of numerous other pilots. The cost of victory against this foe was often grim.
For a while, perhaps it was fear that held me back. Fear of defeat, of loss, or maybe the idea that I had set an unattainable goal for myself. Could I be the Hercules to conquer the Hydra? Of the number of registered AX pilots, a small fraction had successfully defeated a Hydra alone. I doubted I would join those ranks. However, a chance encounter would prove to be a light at the end of the tunnel.
My sister and I would often go on duo excursions to Thargoid control systems. Fighting close to planets surfaces caused interceptors to not deploy swarms, easing the burden of defeating them. On that fateful day while we chewed through scouts, cyclopses, and the occasional Basilisk, the monster would finally show its face. We had just returned to formation when a Hydra made an appearance. Bringing in tow a cyclops and a handful of scouts. I sent my sister to deal with the lesser enemies, and attempted to face the menacing threat alone. Without the swarm present, the fight was much less demanding. Eating through the massive hull and hardened hearts was still a challenge however. After an hour and twenty minutes of combat I had finally chipped its hearts and hull away. While I had bent the engagement in my favor with the location, I realized I may actually be capable of the task. After the fight a second hydra dropped on our location. I stayed long enough to hold it off for my sister to escape, after which I followed suite. My ship had taken a massive beating in the process and needed significant repairs.
While we sat in the commanders office of my fleet carrier after the fight, my sister threw some playful shade at me about still being scared of facing the Hydra in deep space. How the events of that day had been a interesting circumstance of fate. We chuckled, then she left for her quarters to get some much deserved rest.
I however would not. I paced the bridge for a while, well into the beginning of the "night" shift of the carrier. Contemplating if she was right, if I was still as scared of the Thargoids as I had been when they ripped apart the bridge of the Starry Prospector. My trance like state was broken by the soft ding of a notification from my suits com system. My Python's repairs were completed. An eerie silence filled the bridge, almost as if time itself had frozen. In what felt like an uncontrolled action, I called the navigators attention.
Set course for the Zoo.
The fleet carrier arrived in Pleiades Sector MI-S B4-0 around 6am UTC. There was still a solid 2-3 hours before much of the crew would awake, so the carrier was very quiet. Those who were on the bridge knew why we were here. For the rest, I hoped we would be done and gone before they woke. I walked the silent halls to the hanger and called my ship from the repair bay. Before I boarded I took a long pause and looked at the hulking mass of a ship before me. What I was embarking upon would be potentially the greatest challenge I would ever face. Together the ship and I would either find victory, or be scattered among the stars. I put on my dominator suit, as I wanted to eliminate as much of a chance of injury during a canopy breach as I could, and ordered the launch.
Once I was well and free of The Sword of Orion, I turned to my right console and used the precious guardian materials I had horded to synthesize premium ammunition for my cannons. I was going to need every advantage I could muster for this fight. As I climbed above the north pole of the main star, I activated my FSS and began sweeping the system. Finding the signal corresponding to a Hydra's signature did not take long. I locked onto the target and proceeded to my destination.
Dropping from supercruise yielded an unsurprising but tragic view. Through the green mist I could see the silhouette of the interceptor, as well as a contingent of both imperial and federal vessels. Eight ships, all reduced to burning and lifeless husks. A cutter and corvette were among the fallen. Both where the respective prides of their navy yet were no match for the alien craft. The interceptor approached, and I set the thrusters to full reverse. Interceptors were heavy and slow to turn, so a boost by would gain me a few more seconds to gather distance. The massive swarm would require some effort to destroy and I would need every second I could muster. Once its scan was complete I squeezed the trigger on the flight stick and slammed the boost. The fight was on.
Not even a moment into the fight I realized my first mistake. No repair limpets. I frantically opened the synthesis tab and began manufacturing a set of four. I could see the range stabilizing between myself and the interceptor. Hugging the 7.5km line, I flipped the nose towards the swarm and let loose with the flak cannon.
The swarm was in a ring formation, one of the more difficult to dispose of. I exhausted the majority of the magazine clearing out the deluge of drones. Now I could focus on the interceptor itself. The cannons cracked the hull well enough to expose the first heart in reasonable time, but I struggled to keep my vector aligned well enough to avoid fire and hit the heart. The cracks sealed, and the heart was hidden away from me. I persisted with my barrage and once again cracked open the hull. The heart must have been significantly damaged, as it took but a quick salvo to shatter.
I followed the procedure that had been hammered into my memory : Boost away, synthesize equipment, repair internals, repair hull damage, prepare flak cannon. I was more fortunate this time, as the swarm was balled up as it approached. The flak cannon made short work of the tight formation and allowed for a smooth engagement of the interceptor. I swiftly cracked the hull, but again struggled to avoid the fire and make accurate shots on the heart. As our mutual orbit decayed the heart became hidden away behind the regenerating hull. In a gamble to avoid a swarm deployment, I let the interceptor reach out with its lightning and grab my ship. At this close of a range the cannons would vaporize the hull and make the heart an easy target. At the cost of my module health.
The ploy worked in my favor. Thus the cycle began again. Heart 3 went smoothly, as did the majority of heart 4. Unfortunately I was slightly too slow breaking the heart and the interceptor performed a swarm redeployment as it shattered. As I fled the agitated enemy I tried formulating a plan on how to deal with clearing back to back swarms. I had already been struggling on my timing and aim. I believed there would be no realistic way I could clear two swarms plus break a heart without just triggering a new swarm and getting stuck in a loop. So I decided I would try to reduce the number of thargons the best I could, then fight with a small active swarm.
In the midst of being lost in my thoughts, I had forgotten to repair my flak cannon. It had dropped below 80% integrity at some point during the engagement. The swarm had taken a ring formation again, and the cannon was malfunctioning to boot. I reduced the swarm to what I thought was about 20 drones then engaged the interceptor.
At this point I felt as though I was losing the thread of the fight. While it did not take long to exert the heart, the interceptor again restocked the swarm. During my attempt to rush the interceptor I had agitated the drones which now were at full force. I again gambled with the lightning in order to buy a moment to deliver close range damage with the cannons. I had depleted my heatsinks, so the volume of fire I put on the interceptor to finish off the heart spiked my heat to almost 400 percent. This delivered catastrophic damage to some of my internals. The power distributer and power plant were both malfunctioning. I intentionally had a large margin between my peak power consumption and peak output of the reactor, which saved me from a full shutdown. As I fled from the interceptor, the combination of malfunctions made boosting difficult. On top of all of these issues, I took a handful of suicide drones to the main thrusters. By a miracle I managed to limp my ship away from the interceptors cannon range. I repaired what I could and rearmed the ship for another attack run.
Heart 6 went surprisingly well after the catastrophe that was heart 5. I reduced the swarm size down to reasonable levels and exerted the heart promptly. In what I can only conclude was a form of cosmic irony, the interceptor yet again restocked its swarm as I broke the heart. I began my procedure of run, repair, restock.
As I turned to flak down the swarm, it yet again assumed a ring formation. The combination of tired eyes, damaged hull, and cruel luck during the fight had began to take its toll on my mind. After flacking the swarm down again I began an attack run on the interceptor. I had made two critical mistakes this time. I had not rebalanced my pips after the power plant malfunction and I had also not waited long enough for the shields of the interceptor to decay away. While I quickly recovered, I had wasted two precious heat sinks in the debacle. As I aborted the run and gained some distance I threw a few more flak rounds at the swarm. I saw the interceptors shield break and began another attack run.
It would seem fate was not done with its cruel luck yet.
Immediately a shard cannon malfunctioned on the left side of the ship. I maintained my cadence anyways, trying my hardest not to break the pattern of the fight. The cannon cleared its malfunction after only a few seconds which was a small relief in what had become a very trying fight. I exerted the heart in time for another swarm restock which fully fried the last of my patience. I rushed the interceptor to bait the lightening again and plucked off the heart with a devastating barrage from all four shard cannons. I scrambled to escape the EMP range and enabled silent running as a precaution. The powerplant was malfunctioning yet again making the boost unresponsive. My heart stopped for a moment when I saw the missile warning indicator. A few drones managed to hit the thrusters, but the hull held true through another brutal attack. As I gained distance and began repairing my vessel, I realized just how on the edge I was riding. The AFMU was doing its best to keep critical systems online, but many were well below the malfunctioning threshold. The thrusters were in especially bad shapes. Below 40% integrity to be more specific. Those failing would be a death sentence against the interceptor. The AFMU itself was at a measly 5%, hanging on by a literal thread.
It was time for the last heart.
Having squeezed out the best repairs I could and synthesized restocks for my equipment I turned to face the interceptor. By some miracle the swarm was balled up. I happily laid into it with the flak cannon. This time it wasn't poor luck, but my own inattentiveness that intensified the fight. I managed to accidentally kill the entire swarm. As the interceptor slowed to deploy a new swarm I seized the stall to apply as much damage as possible. The interceptor and I danced back and forth as we jousted through empty space. I exerted the heart and tried to maintain my time on target while being immolated with caustic fire from the swarm. In a somewhat desperate maneuver I dropped all four heat sinks and fired all the cannons at the exerted heart. The heat still spiked enough for momentary locks by the interceptor. We traded blows and I clipped off its final heart. As I had inelegantly flown through the core of the swarm ring while doing this it was now agitated. I was barely clipped by lightning as I tried to boost away from my adversary. I was so focused on escaping the swarm I didn't fire a single shot at the interceptor during this encounter. The swarm attempted to finish me off with suicide drones, but the ship managed to escape its clutches and I went for a final resupply.
My ship and I were both at our limit. The AFMU was crippled and many modules were either destroyed or malfunctioning. I used the last of my repair limpets to patch the hull up the best I could and refilled my heatsinks. The flak cannon was on its last leg but had a mostly full magazine ready for use. I turned my aim back to the interceptor for our final engagement.
The swarm blessed me with a ring of death formation. The hardest formation to destroy as well as the most dangerous. That many thargons would instantly gut the ship if they landed a suicide run on me. I tried my best to thin them out, as well as baited a few attacks in order to thin the numbers. I struggled badly to knock out an appreciable number and performed two evasions of suicide drones. I was determined to win though. I was so close. I had plucked the flower clean of petals and now had to rip up the stem.
I refused to lose this fight at the very end.
Finally, I saw a moment of reprieve. The swarm left its suicide formation and returned to a normal attack formation. I switched to my cannons and made a mad dash for the interceptor. It was either it or me. As we crossed paths for one final joust I blew through the center of the swarm and laid into the core of the interceptor with all the firepower I could bare. I saw the green glow flicker from within the cracks in its hull. I heard the trumpet of death echo as the interceptor started to come apart. In one last twist of irony I saw the rear portal of the interceptor open and begin dumping thargons. Maybe it was a vein attempt to get me back before it fell. The answer to that question is one I will never know. A violent blast tore the remains of the vessel apart.
I drifted for a while through empty space. I watched the remains of the interceptor grow smaller in my cracked canopy. As the Python drifted it slowly tumbled. The main star raised from the bottom of the canopy and tracked across the center of view, almost like the sun rising on a new day. I glanced up at the on board clock. It had taken close to exactly one hour to destroy the Hydra. I closed all the weapon hardpoints and set course back to the fleet carrier.
By the time I had returned, most of the crew were awake. Apparently the bridge crew had been keen on notifying everyone they could that I had ventured off to face a Hydra alone. It was no secret from the gouges covering the hull and the cracks running across the canopy that the fight had been vicious. I set down on the pad and descended the ship into the depths of the carrier. I had barely freed the harness before I noticed people gathering around the exit ramp. All eager to know what transpired. For a moment it was all surreal, like a dream that you expected to wake up from. As I pulled off my helmet and began to greet the present crew my sister made an appearance at the lift exit. From the look on her face she knew what had occurred, but she couldn't help but ask anyways.
What happened?she said
It is finally over.
I have won.
A Hydra falls.
The entire fight was recorded by the on board cameras if you are interested to see it in real time
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QneUup5BqZw