The Sound of Silence
12 Mar 2016Monolith Preacher
Last cycle resulted in me eating more Ochoeng Chillies than is healthy in one sitting before leaving Clair Dock to wing up with Pahn and Marra to take down a Farragut. Easy for them, perhaps. They'd gotten into the swing of it and downed two by the time I'd done enough work to ensure my promotion back to Archon Knight by the end of the cycle. This downtime had enabled me to fly the 'conda enough to realise it really wasn't the ship for me.This was unsurprising. I've always preferred to be in the thick of things, and a 'conda seems more suited to a commanding role. By the time I was dropping in on me hearties during our expansion attempts, they'd been waiting around for me to turn up so long I was costing everyone more time than it was worth. Sure, everyone was happy to see my Pack Hounds flying, as they're a rarity outside of LYR space, but it was a small consolation for most of them. So when Pahn told me flying my 'conda in against a Farragut was like flying a neon target towards the fray, I was more than happy to store it away and get the Revelation 8:11 back out.
Once I'd gotten my head around the attack plan necessary to scuttle a Capital class ship, I was surprised how quickly everything came together. The Farragut Damocles swung heavy over my head on my first approach, but I wasn't taking any chances. I kept my flight assist on and used all the old tricks I remembered from before I started stressing myself trying to fly without it. As usual, the larger the ship, the more comfortable I felt, and I was happily nestling myself in its belly for a pass before looping out to let a wingmate take over. I'd cover whilst the third wingmate recharged or re-stocked, and we began to rinse and repeat this for a while. As I came back from my first re-stock, I managed to dodge out of the way as the Damocles missed my nose and went into high wake.
I felt pretty proud of us. We split the workload quite easily, and it went down quicker than we had anticipated. I decided to have a glass of milk to help soothe my throat, unsure if it was the chillies or the stress making it dry. I spluttered, however, as Pahn said there was another en route to our position. They must've been in a rush to subjugate us, as this one didn't have a name, merely a designation: the FNS Farragut. Time was running out for me, as we Preachers must pray at the same time every day regardless of location, and I'd rather not start burning incense in the middle of a Capital ship's hangar bay if I'm not wanted.
So I decided to throw caution to the wind, and I got stuck in. Pahn's turn came to restock, and I suddenly my cockpit went silent. Pahn and I keep track over voice comms, but Marra doesn't have the tongue for it, blaming the static as an unnecessary distraction to her combat prowess. I don't have the care to type things over our wing chat channel for fear of interception, so we were at something of an impasse. We merely kept an eye on each other and began rotating between assaulting the FNS Farragut and covering the assaulter from smaller ships. This worked well enough that we were one heat sink away from scuttling it when Pahn radioed in to say she'd dropped back into the system.
I was busy shooting the heat relay, but in the moment I checked the message my ship drifted just in front of a broadside cannon. Suddenly, my shields were down, and a clutch of Eagles with a Python head came flying my way. I boosted out to the edge of the conflict zone, and noticed Marra had already jumped out. I spent the next five minutes outmaneuvering my pursuers until Pahn got back. I had no shields, and I was down to half hull, but if I left then the Feds would reposition the battlefield to our disadvantage. Heck, knowing our luck, they'd probably switch their heat relays whilst we were gone. I don't know which engineers were working on those ships, but they were something else.
I jumped out once Pahn arrived to clean up that last heat relay, and I managed to make it back to Clair Dock before my life support leaked all of my oxygen through the cracks in my canopy. Giz mentioned I should think about upgrading my life support for the sake of the small difference it makes to my jump range, but I've not run out of oxygen before, so I don't care to worry about it.
Speaking of worry, that's something I've finally stopped doing. My worry at losing the respect of my new wingmates for a lack of FA Off knowledge disappeared after I learnt they'd been trolling me since I joined. Giz didn't bother with FA Off, and Pahn only really used it for turning and powerslides like the rest of the sane galaxy. Sure, attempting to learn to fly FA Off is something I plan to do over time, but there's no rush. Likewise with my finances. I've lost around 50mil merely re-purchasing ships in the past week. When I was flying my 'conda, I only had 60mil in the bank. When I sold it to re-buy the boombox, Orpheus couldn't help but enquire about my change of heart. It was simple: the top brass working for the Archon had finally done what I was unable to: find me a trade route worth using it on. I didn't tell him where it was, and by the time you read this I'm sure there will be a more profitable route out there.
So now, I can make almost as much flying my Cutter as I can in my Asp, and I'll gladly take a cut of 5mil an hour if it means I can fly something that doesn't have gastric enteritis when I'm making money. The funny thing is, I've kind of come full circle. Before I left for the GIMPP, I was doing my own thing in a forgotten corner of Pegasi, enlightening slaves to the ways of the Monolith in my Cobra, and later my Python. I'd made it to 27 thousand souls saved personally, which was solidifying my reputation within the MPEF. Since coming back, I'd slowly been getting mired down in financial concerns, to the extent I was shifting Imperial slaves by the handful for the Robigo Cartel to Federation space. I had lost my way. But I didn't go on another pilgrimage to find myself. Instead, I remembered that home was where the heart is, and I'd finally settled in. I'm glad I got rid of that 'conda anyway. It wasn't mine to begin with, and I was getting a bad feeling the original owner was still...there, somehow...
I finally feel like I've properly settled into the Archon's service now. I used to act on memos and assume I was in the right place at the right time. Since I returned from my secret mission, I've been sure to talk directly to the top brass to find out what's going on. As it turns out, as many already knew me as didn't, which has been helpful. My combat can't be as bad as I think, either, as I was put in charge of a wing of drunken Cobra fliers during our last expansion attempt, and we did quite well considering. There's the rub, I think, and the lesson Black Omega's been teaching me: self-sufficiency.
Back in Gcirthi, Hammer always had the bigger ship, the larger guns, and he always had my back. Now I've got my confidence on my own two feet. I've always had the flying ability, I just needed to be shown I was able. When Marra left me to my own devices, it was because she had things to do and she knew I could handle myself, even though I didn't. When I was commanding the “B” Wing of the Archon's expansion forces, I got jumped by a wing of three CMDRs with Pythons and a Vulture. I took the Python which interdicted me down to half hull before his wingmates turned up behind me. An insurance claim of 6mil kept my drunken wingmates alive. I told them not to come and save me. I was the wing commander, I would take the hit. I'd been jumped before I'd had a chance to dock the first time, but they were running from our wing for the rest of the night when I got back. I'm sure Oz and the guys in "A" Wing got more done, but hey! I'm a Preacher, not a tactician! For a Competent-rated wing, we did all right! There was only one pilot we coudn't keep down, and if you've ever fought him, you'll know the legend of Clive the Unkillable!
I just got a message through from the MPEF this morning. They want to hold a ceremony they have been postponing since the new year. Apparently, they pre-empted my saving of thirty thousand souls, but put the celebration on hold when I didn't clock in after leaving for the core. My recent testing of my new smuggling route drew me to their attention again, and they want to hold it tomorrow. Unfortunately, I got another message at the start of this cycle which means they'll have to postpone it just a while longer....but I'll tell you about that afterwards, as the walls have ears....