Cobra: Living the Legacy
15 Feb 2016TheDarkLord
No fixed abode. Faulcon DeLacy Cobra MkIII “Legacy”.October 3301.
A month in. Countless hours flown. Many of them in escape pods as I failed to exert my will over some pirate or other. But the scrimping and saving led to me having enough cash for a Cobra. I sauntered down to the shipyard in whatever station I was in, all casual like. Not betraying my excitement at getting out of the Sidewinder. It hadn’t been a bad ship, all in all I suppose, but I purposefully didn’t name it. No sense forming an emotional attachment when I was going to be out as fast as possible.
I dropped the credits on a new Mark 3 Cobra. This is it: back in the old girl, I called her Legacy after my previous time as a pilot.
Faulcon DeLacy Cobra MkIII “Legacy”
Over the next weeks I continued trading and smuggling. Legacy grew in capability and muscle. The talons grew longer and more varied, as beam lasers and cannons were fitted.
The call of the stomping grounds was getting louder. I chucked in my current routes, and made for Leesti. In this new universe, it seemed like Leesti was where the pilots from the old days were hanging out. Maybe I would meet some of my old friends.
I made it as far as Gaohikel before running into a commander by the name of Baron Wulf. The first overtly friendly face I’d seen in months. Still 50 light years or so from my destination, I dropped anchor for a couple of weeks.
The Baron suggested bounty hunting. We would spend hours in ring systems where pirates hunt miners and bounty hunters hunt pirates. The Baron’s style was to hang back in his Python, operating at the limit of his energy weapon range. I preferred to use Legacy’s agility to be able to get amongst it. It helped that Legacy’s shields recharged quickly too.
Hour after hour I’d charge ships much larger than mine, raining energy and projectile fire upon them, frequently coming close to using my own hull as a projectile. The Baron seemed bemused at my kamikaze attitude, impressed that I managed to avoid getting myself killed. It was nice to have those three large beams of his to fall back on though when the heat got too much.
The cash was rolling in as I danced amongst Asps, Diamondbacks and Pythons, playing beams across their hulls. But it was taking a toll on my mental state. The continual killing for money seemed a bit pointless really. It was starting to feel like a grind. I was looking for a change of pace. Maybe something where the risk level wasn’t so constantly high. It was time to hang out in some of the offline bars to see what else I could do.