Unguided, 3: Taming the Beast
23 Feb 2021Meowers
( 22.02.3307 - 23.02.3307 )
( Komotae - HIP 6011 - Jambin )
A whole day of doing glorious nothing has surely been good for me. After my return from Nevermore, I've been scraping dust off myself, soaking in a tub, getting to fresh-cooked meals and warm tea back from rather utilitarian field rations and enjoying another portion of laid-back cabin-dwelling activities (inactivities, to be honest). Sure, there's much stuff going on in the Galaxy, but I had to rest a little, I'll be no good if I strain myself too much over things that, really, don't affect me personally.
But here's one thing that clearly does. And a reason for writing a log entry in the middle of something, not after the bottom line is drawn.
After that plushy recreational day I went to the HIP 6011 system. Heard about some shootout there between The Winged Hussars, cooperative-type faction expanding their operations, and a local HIP 6011 Empire Party. That conflict was already waning upon my arrival with the Hussars having a solid lead, but nevertheless I decided to toss more firewood in it, making a landfall at Slusser Vision surface outpost under the Hussars control and grabbing the most hefty mercenary contract they had there. Cooperative faction biting some prime superpower, hey, that's sweet!
Hello, my little Imperial friend! I heard that you have human slaves doing all the dirty work, and I'm sure you're feeling like a Master when ordering someone to clean your toilet. But do you feel like a Master receiving an order from your superior, one that sounds like "fly out there and get involved in a fight that you'll probably lose and may even not survive, just for the sake of protecting our order, under which I can tell you what to do, and you will do it obediently"? Will it be a kind of a willing sacrifice? Yeah, yeah, I know that Feds and corporations (especially corporations) are doing some dirty slavery too, paying billions of people just enough to afford a flea-ridden bunk bed and synth chow, at least the Imps have the guts to call it the right name.
Let's move on to what affects me. Blazing through the ranks of Imperials... Or Imperial Slaves? Do Imps have slave pilots? According to their, so to speak, 'effectiveness', they definitely have. Or were they some cheap pawns with less slaves than their superiors? Dunno, their kinky 'Slave and Master' hierarchy is a little over my head at the moment.
So, I stumbled upon a Fed Corvette with its pilot marked Elite, fighting alongside the Imps, and it opened fire on me immediately, like there were no other targets around. Had to retreat, my shields were already at half capacity and cannon ammo was scarce. I know that type of pilots, they will do anything and can pledge themselves to anyone if it gives 'em a bit more of profit and advantage. When you see one, it's a run or gun situation, you're dealing with someone who thinks only numbers. I was a bit more prepared for the second fight, managed to almost punch through Corvette's shields when they recharged again, and mine was at half or a bit less (that standardised HUD ring indication does have some aesthetics indeed, but you can't see the exact percentage, and Sirius still won't let you to tweak this basic system for some reason). Knowing that the Corvette may have up to a dozen batteries left, and I have eight, and each one of them fills only one of those 'rings' on the Holo-HUD, I retreated once again, no need to risk anything valuable. So nobody was hurt except me having this smack on the nose. Disgusting.
When my Plasma Accelerator arrived at the delivery point, the foe had already gone somewhere, but I took it for the turning point. The big laser may be easy and cheap to use, effective against worthless bastards on their lousy buckets, but when it comes down to some serious fighting, you better be armed with a none less serious chunk of metal. And Plasma is all the business these days.
This thing makes a whole tiny star flying at where you aim it!
(Plasma charge)
But this beast still needs to be tamed correctly. At this moment I have solid, around 90%, performance at hitting big belly targets from every speed and angle, medium-sized ships are getting it too from time to time, but bah. I have to practise until I'll be hitting Eagles while strafing, rolling and quoting classic poetry out loud. Maybe attending this CQC club one day is a good idea too. Being angry at myself is maybe (sure) not the healthiest thing that moves me forward, but the most effective one indeed. Even if I'm not to be taken lightly (what I still doubt), there's a whole learning curve ahead.
Big gun: check. Targets? A heckload of them. Plotted my way to the Jambin system, where the NLTT 33782 Resistance party is currently trying to establish an auxiliary operations base and being opposed by some Fed corporates of HIP 67412 Partners, with one planetary outpost at stakes. Excellent occasion to give another corpo a memorable beating, while improving my aiming mastery, raising some cash and moving towards promotion.
Currently stopped at Chiang Prospect. Have to say those tourist starports are surely a place to visit and stay around a bit, even if you're not a tourist. They make your eyes open after dimmed edgy pragmatic places that tell you "you're deep in space, anything unnecessary here is a luxury you don't need". But hey, what makes me 'not a tourist'? I'm visiting places, taking photos, trying out local food, having, um, some communications with various people... Baggy military-issue stuff over the protective flight suit? It's cosy, I like it. Sweat, dust and soot all over the face? This tour is exciting. Combat ship instead of some fancy glossy shiny liner? It's more reliable when travelling far.
(Tourist starport views)
Maybe I'll get some intervention over here after posting it, who knows. I know what to do with 'em: it's run or gun.
Let the target practice begin.
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Next part: #4: Colours of Grey Morality
Next part: #4: Colours of Grey Morality