After Action Part 3
13 Apr 2020S. O'Brien
First | Previous12 APR 3306, 23:41:27
Kobayashi City, Anlave
After-action report, automatically assembled from multiple sources.
Subject: Commander S. O’Brien
Combat Rating: Expert 92%
Federation Rank: Ensign
Report Continues 23:02:02
Recording C.O.N.T.R.A.I.L. Security Cameras, Pad 30 Lounge
Commander O’Brien steps off the elevator with a tablet in hand, putting the finishing touches on her after action report. With a flourish, she saves the document and tucks the device into a pouch on the hip of her flight suit. Before the thought of a drink and a moment's rest can cross her mind, a station aide approaches, his hands respectfully grasped behind his back.
“Excuse me Commander, I’m sorry to interrupt, but there is a private communication awaiting you in the meeting room. Please follow me.” He motions expectantly away from the lounge proper. “Please.”
O’Brien sighs and falls into step behind the aide. They travel to a tucked away conference room, sound-proofed and eerily barren. Once the door seals the video switches to a recording of the conference call. In one frame, Commander O’Brien stood behind a chair with a look of brewing anger, in the other Advisor Sedona Shields.
“Commander, glad to see you made it back from your trip safe and sound.” the Advisor begins.
“My trip to steal comms data from another Federation faction you mean? Yeah, made it out just fine, thank you. Mind skipping the cloak and dagger and telling me the next steps or does the aide outside have a surprise for me?” she spits, scowling.
“I can’t imagine what you mean Commander, I’m afraid I don’t understand Pilot-humor as well as I’d like.” Shields’ face is an unshakable mask, a cold corporate smile and laughing eyes. “I was wondering if you’d had a chance to check the bulletin board when you docked?”
The Commander sighs, visibly releasing some of her anger. “No, I hadn’t, I was going to grab a drink with my crew and apologize for the unexpected jaunt.”
“Oh, my apologies for interrupting then. I’ll be brief.” The smile drops away like so much biowaste in high orbit. “It appears that on your previous contract with us, there was another mistake. The target we had assigned the second time was also an incidental underling. The real target is available to you if you’d like it.”
“Seems like Anlave for Equality can’t handle its intel. Probably some other Federation factions that could help you out with that you know?”
“Possibly” the Advisor appears to be losing patience. “We’d prefer that you finish the job at hand, but we could always find another, more capable pilot. After all this is an Elite rated task.”
It’s clear on the Commander’s face that the bait hooked her. She growls a terse response before slamming a fist on the disconnect button and storming from the meeting room.
The recording catches up to Commander O’Brien entering the lounge proper, tapping furiously at their tablet as they step up to the bar. The only other patron is Melissa Madden, patiently waiting to make a snarky comment about their next job. Her thunder is stolen as a tablet slides across the bar and displaces her glass.
“The target’s Raymond Koopmans, Elite Rating, though he’s probably just Dangerous himself.” O’Brien says flatly, leaning over the bar for a glass and bottle. The bartender pulls a rag to clean the mess and actively ignore the conversation as much as possible.
Melissa’s eyes dart over the tablet, drink (and snark) now long forgotten “Elite - again? Thought this was supposed to be business as usual?”
“Yeah, I have my doubts that he’s just a pirate this time, considering who I got the info from, and how sketchy Shields is being.” The Commander pours two fingers of whiskey and begins to stand again. “We’re leaving now, I wanna get this done and call it a day so we can switch locales.”
“Aye aye, what’s the loadout?”
“Same as usual, we’ll use local security if we have any trouble.”
The Commander slams back the drink, places the empty glass on the bar and heads for the door with Melissa in tow.
Recording continues 23:10:02
Hidden camera in Iarracht Nua’s Cockpit
The Krait lurches out of supercruise to an over busy Nav Beacon, four separate ships immediately turning to scan the new arrival.
“Damn buzzards, every time. Let’s get a scan real fast and find this guy. I don’t wanna risk him catching wind and running for an Anarchy system.” O’Brien’s hands gently maneuver the heavy combat craft between Cobras and an Anaconda crowding the way, while she tracks the blinking beacon with her eyes.
“Scanning now Commander... Mission target detected at... Gyton's Hope?” Melissa reports with obvious confusion, flipping through tabs on her navigation panel.
“Are the star and a planet named the same thing here?”
“Nope, the target location is, well around the star. No other details Commander. Guess we hop out an-” the fighter pilot is quickly cut off mid-sentence as a Federal Corvette drops out of supercruise with its nose less than 50 meters out the port window.
“Jesus Effing Christ, bastard dropped right on top of us.” O’Brien grasps at her heart, trying to recover from the sudden scare. “Spin up the FSD, low wake, need to get out of this traffic.”
The Krait angles out away from the other ships as a couple of ship scan alerts pop in on the monitors. Both pilots ignore it as they had the rest of the scans.
“80% charged.” Melissa reports, as her eyes track a pair of plasma accelerator bolts arcing in front of the main window.
“Who the hell just shot at us?”
“I think the Corvette, Commander. Message incoming.”
Audio buzzes over the cockpit speakers: “I am wanted, but never taken Commander. I’m afraid this is where you stop following me.”
“That idiot Koopmans is attacking us AT THE BEACON!” O’Brien growls, Remlock mask dropping over her face as they boost the ship into an Immelmann turn. Hardpoints deploy and the FSD charge is cancelled before she shouts back to Melissa, “Get in the fighter, loadout 2. We need those shields down yesterday!”
As Melissa’s seat is engulfed in an AR bubble, O’Brien shifts all power to weapons and begins burning into the corvette with Nua’s three beam lasers. The camera rumbles as a fighter thrusts out from under the Commander’s seat and begins unloading plasma fire alongside the unending red beams.
Suddenly the Krait shifts downwards, barely dodging another volley of purple plasma. Though they had dodged the shot, a klaxon goes off in the ship, a heat warning.
“Commander, ease off the beams!” Melissa shouts.
The beams cut quickly, and power shifts to the engines as O’Brien hits the boost and screams over the command deck of the corvette to let the guns cool. “Enemy shield at 24% Mel, keep hitting them.”
“Aye, Commander, they’ve switched the frag turrets to face me.”
“Perfect.”
“Flight-assist off.” announces the ship computer as the ship rotates back to face Koopmans, the two advanced multi-cannons roaring. Roughly half the rounds miss in the first volley, O’Brien struggling to keep the nose on the target as it boosts after the fighter. “Flight-assist on.”
The Nua boosts again, on the tail of the corvette with another heat warning reflecting off the Commander’s visor. The three beam lasers start again, pushing the heat warning over the 100% mark. Koopmans’ shield flares blue, and begins to recover as he pops a shield cell.
“Absolutely not!” the commander yells, dropping pips into System and firing all weapons on the corvette’s drives.
“Heat Warning” the ship announces.
“Commander!?”
“Get those shields down!”
“Commander, another ship scan, from a Cobra, same faction.”
“Ignore it!” O’Brien leans on the throttle, pushing the Nua closer as the enemy shields fail. They hit the boost and flip back again, putting distance between them.
Suddenly beams and slugs fly by Iarracht Nua’s main window and tear into the hull of the corvette behind it. Two cobra’s and an anaconda burn passed, firing all weapons on Raymond Koopmans’ exposed underside.
“Cease fire at once, you are committing a crime in Federal Space!” the anaconda’s pilot roars over the radio.
“Damn buzzards, every one of them.” laughs the Commander. She flips the ship around one last time to see the enemy hull rapidly melt. Both multi-cannons cycle in new ammo and start to unload into the corvette’s exposed underside.In moments explosions start to break out across the target and the three beam lasers burn through until it shatters, throwing debris harmlessly across Iarracht Nua’s stable shields
O’Brien and Madden both cheer over the continuing “Heat Warning” klaxon as a “bounty claimed“ notification pings on the transaction panel.
The Commander loosens her grip on the flight stick and navigates through the nearby contacts on the side panel. “Hey Mel, handle that cobra from before real quick and we’ll head out. Rt. Reverend Codswollop, Master rating. Who names these guys?”
The Iarracht Nua turns towards Anlave, weapons stowing and FSD spooling up, while the Federal Agents and fighters all converge on the lone Codswollop.
“That’s all of them Commander, bringing the fighter in now.”
Conflict Timer 04:05
Report submitted to Pilot’s Federation 23:41:27
Rating updated: Expert 93%