Unguided, 9: Independence Week
19 Mar 2021Meowers
( 13.03.3307 - 19.03.3307 )
( Lave - Jukagha - Kishijoten - Ac Yanto - Ritila )
Sounds of repair machinery are like music to my ears when I write this. Well, usually they would make you want to do occasional homicide, if you're chilling in your living compartment and someone from your neighbours decides it's a good time to fix the door or attach something to the wall. But now I'm here, at the utterly usual ordinary orbital outpost and Marshmallow sustained some structural damage from one certainly 'friendly' dimwit Python pilot, who pressed a boost button in the most wrong moment of me having shields almost down and flying nearby.
So, it was one hell of a week. Rescuing people at Lave, an iconic Independent system, has been good for my suffering karma, I even took a yummy and generally heroic photo during that.
(Seconds before another rescue run)
Did evacuation runs for three days or so, then read reports from Hutton folks and decided that with numbers of evacuees rising that fast my efforts finally had faded behind them, and it seemed morally acceptable to switch back to doing my usual stuff of making people send distress signals instead of responding to them.
And, godsdammit, the timing was just that fine.
Maybe the Jukagha system wasn't such an icon of independence as Lave, Reorte, Zaonce, Leesti and other Old Worlds where all the history of private ship pilots, Commanders, began centuries ago, but still it's Independent. And now under pressure by some Bhutas Hunters from a nearby Imperial place of the same name. Well, let them be my next foe. As their description says, this faction started as a bunch of Imperial bounty hunters (how predictable), so I'm sure as hells there won't be a single spark of remorse after sending some of them tumbling around the void.
One of the combat zones in Jukagha was located near the gas giant with icy rings. Had remembered that almost forgotten feeling of an atmospheric flying above the clouds. Maybe someday I'll try this again, but this time on a proper vessel, not a winged tin can stuffed with passengers hiding their used barf bags under the seats after landing.
(Cloud Nine)
Local Jukagha Liberals were nailed to the wall when I arrived, Imps did a thrashing to them for two days without any hope for a relief, and if there even was a moment to turn the tide, it was damn here and damn now. So I had to be short with greetings and meetings while the frontlines waited for any kind of support they could receive. Taking off from Fraas Orbital and going directly to the killzone, I did battles with these Hunters again and again, trying to nudge the situation away from being such a horrific collapse.
(Lights of the Fraas Orbital)
And, during the second day of my involvement here, 16 March, I've engaged my FSD to leave another combat zone with a battle won and a dozen (one and a half, to be more precise) of kills added to my tally, when a cease-fire was announced, and conflict ended with a draw. Phew! Eventually I thought that I can't pull this off, but now it's an official draw which is in any way better than defeat. Yet...
Damn! Could you fellows please wait for a few minutes? And I have to live my life with this kind of luck!
(Mercenary contracts and my luck)
Perfectly explains the Python Accident mentioned in the beginning. Anyway, other flashpoints burned all over the neighbouring space: reports had me rubbing my eyes like "whaaat the crap?!". Goddamn Imp lapdogs were marching around independent systems, declaring one war after another to local folks. Who the hells do they think they are? Four more systems. At least one put up some decent fighting (besides, it was Alliance space), but three more were up for me. Last time I tried to fight two fronts I had one lost after what looked like a chance for a comeback, with the second one turned into a complete victory at least. But I guess this triple thing should be a test for my tenacity and determination.
(Bhutas Hunters expanding)
They damn asked for it. For three long, almost endless days I was tearing them apart over three systems, jumping from one to another to keep the heat even, waiting for an all-out counterattack in one of them to deal with it swiftly before it would require a serious comeback. None happened, though. They were definitely supported by some other pilots, who managed to gain initial advantage, but apparently they gave up or weren't doing enough to counterweight my assault.
Hell of a spree. I was locking on to the next target instantly after clearing my way through the explosion and debris of the previous one, spreading jagged and twisted fragments all over the place. Shoving plasma charges into their power plants, causing ships to collapse, to drown in melted metal of their own internal modules with interiors becoming a burning inferno of spilled fuel and exploding oxygen tanks. They were turning inside out shortly after that. Cutting off their engines, sending them rolling helplessly by all three axes, floating away in a random direction, screaming for help, only to see me finishing them off. Melting their FSDs, so they were hitting that button in panic, hoping to escape the doom, only to hear nothing except ordnance hammering their hulls. Going in brutal clinches, squeezing the triggers with one hand and thrust controls with another, watching as cannons ripped them open, leaving ragged edges and air gushing away. I've seen their faces petrified from terror as their ships were turning into unrecognisable shreds. Once found myself viciously ramming some crippled hostile dipshit with their engines dead and shields down even after the battle ended and other Hunters retreated. Spent all of my ammo, had to finish the job.
Their reports seemed somewhat promising at the start, but it took only one day to make numbers reflect a spiralling downfall they actually were experiencing. Next report, on 17 March, confirmed that their spines were broken and any subsequent days were about wiping the floor with them. They surrendered in Kishijoten, leaving only two systems to fight in, and lost that slight advantage they had in Ac Yanto. Let alone the defeat in the Alliance system.
(Strategical collapse of the Hunters)
There's a thing about independence. It's no surprise about all the powers deeming 'Independent' as 'Nobody's'. 'Unowned'. 'Untaken'. Ready to be grabbed. Like a biscuit on a table left unattended. Well... This one was made of lead.
By the way, combat zones in Ritila were near the contested outpost, Younghusband Colony, and as a commercial facility, it had some ads spinning around and I couldn't resist taking this photo. Why the hell Zorgon Peterson isn't offering me a service discount after this kind of show with their flagship model as the main character?
(Zorgon Peterson advertisement at Younghusband Colony)
Nonetheless, I'm here. I'm here to do things. And by 'things' I mean telling these lapdogs about independence in the most bloodthirsty way possible. Reports this evening brought news even better than before: while I fought in Ritila, conflict in Ac Yanto ended with Imps surrendering and ceasing fire, and local standings are, as well, all about them having some pitch dark hopeless cruel days. Still some battles to do, but the major goal is achieved already.
Hells. I'm dead certain I'll drown myself in some bar after this.
* * *
Next part: #10: Almost Planned Acquisition
Next part: #10: Almost Planned Acquisition