Disaster
04 Nov 2019ParkTyGreen
Tiberius Captain’s Log - 4th of November 3305It’s not exactly anything new, but today I nearly died in the cold darkness of space.
This morning, I’d taken my old Vulture, the Prominence, out for a spin for an hour or two while the Tiberius got stocked up on final provisions, equipment, and the crew’s belongings. Despite not being completely A-Rated, and most of the modules non-engineered, I thought it was safe to say the Tiberius was up to the task of high-reward target bounty hunting. In fact, it was probably better suited for the job than my old FDL the Blue Horizons. I thought both myself and the ship were ready, despite Sloane’s and the other crew’s reservations about doing such while it was still not entirely ready. I brushed off their concerns. This ship could obliterate an eagle or Viper in the matter of seconds. Bigger fish shouldn’t have been too much trouble. This Krait MkII, is decided, was mean enough to handle anything.
Anyways, I popped over to the local Nav Beacon in Anima and scanned it to get any full bearing son the system. While there, the tiny frame of my Vulture rattled violently and a second later I was blinded by the flash of the massive engines of an anaconda. I scrambled for the control panel and quickly rushed to scan the massive ship, and quickly and energetically followed with the Kill Warrant Scan. 1,249,083 credits. I held my breath. This was it. This would help pay for any possible rebut as well as A-Rating the ship. The commander, his code name “xSKILLS6KILLSx” was in for a good fight. Just as he took notice of me, sending voice comms and firing a warning shot, I jumped out and rushed over to Cowper Dock. I could barely contain my excitement when I explained it to the crew back on the Tiberius.
Everyone was sat around the crew dining table, which mechanically lowered from the wall. Sloane shook his head and looked around at the others for confirmation. “Are you being serious?” He said incredulously. “What rank is he?”
I shrunk slightly. The whole crew was now putting me under intense scrutiny. I winced a bit and said in a dull tone, “Elite.”
One person laughed. Sloane put his head in both hands. “You’re only rated dangerous.” He said. “And the rest of us aren’t even Novices.” His voice rose. “The ship isn’t A-Rated,” he got to his feet. “And nothing is engineered.”
I backed away a bit, feeling like less of a captain and more like an imposter posing as a captain. “The FSD is engineered.”
“The FSD!” He practically shouted. “How is that going to help at all while the hull is getting shredded by an Elite Anaconda?”
We argued for a bit, but I was resolute. I eventually stopped it all and just announced that we were going after him, and if anyone didn’t agree with it, they could walk right down the access ramp and never come back.
Bad idea.
Nobody really agreed with me, but none of them also wanted to get thrown out onto the dark, dank, filthy low-wage corridors of some backwater station, barely making enough tos survive. I needed that money. The ship needed upgrades from that money.
I strained the Tiberius’s FSD getting over to the main star. By then, he’d gone, but there was still a High-Energy wake left and I scanned it. Three jumps. This was it. I barely waited a second after the FSD cooldowns to get to the next jump, sending sparks flying while the ship overheated. Sloane looked at me funny by the last jump from his telepresence console for controlling the fighter.
A few minute later, the ship lurched out of supercruise to the nav beacon. I don’t remember much of what happened next with total clarity. The commander must have remembered my Codename and seen that I’d gotten the big guns out, already knowing I was here to collect his bounty. He’d deployed hard points before the FSD cooldown even began. The Tiberius’s shields and hull quickly became Swiss cheese not long after. Sloane had just deployed his Taipan when a barrage of lasers, missiles, rail guns and frag chewed through the ship. It was all I could do to jolt the ship in a neck-cracking 10-g turn (thank god for these flight suits) and make a desperate run for it. I barely got a few PA shots and pulse laser hits in. Warning lights flashed frantically and alarms blared. The ships hull crackled and heaved. A horrible patter like rain tumbled against the metal. The FSD booted up slowly due to the bounty’s mass factor. I sent him voice comms request at 30% hull, hoping I could negotiate with him. It was no use. He didn’t accept. I grimaced and anxiety mounted as the bar slowly filled. The hull buckled and explosions rocked the engine bay. My eyes lit up when the bar began rapidly filling, finally, and the ship heaved into supercruise.
Hull was at 3% when we got back to port.
I don’t know what to do now. I thought I was ready to command a whole crew. I thought I could have the confidence and authority to be a captain. But when I can’t lead a crew with confidence, let alone make decisions I’m confident in, I’m seriously doubting myself now. Maybe I should just sell my FDL and Krait and go retire on some paradise world, just give up on doing the thing I’ve always dreamed of doing. I’ve been hiding in my quarters deciding if I should just tell everyone to pack up and give them a few hundred thousand credits each from selling my FDL or something. Except I’m not sure I’m going to do that for the same reason I never sold my ships to Keane. Maybe I could just unhitch the old Kaitakusha again and go disappear into deep space again, this time for good. I haven’t decided.
One good thing today, at least there’s been no sign of Keane.
That’s alright I guess.