Out of the freezer, into the fire
15 Sep 2020Aequfire
Hi Dad,I am sure by now the news has reached you of the terrorist attacks against a number of Imperial stations. Brought back memories of the Thargoid attacks from last year. I wasn't able to help back then, at least not in the direct way I wanted to but I was now. Do you remember that Type-9 I had bought for mining. I did take it out once and though I was able to gather a much more substantial amount of cargo, the majority was not painite so didn't bring in anywhere near the profit. I could make 25% more money in half the time in my Keelback so unfortunately the Type-9 was on the shelf. I was debating whether I wanted to sell her or not and just couldn't bring myself to do it. I was sure that I wasn't going to take her out mining again as I imagine that my mining expeditions will be quite casual and only as I need to make a large quick amount of credits. But there were some very lucrative cargo hauling contracts out there and they would require a large ship with a large hold. So for now, the Hephaestus was going to remain idle... until the attacks.
I was a couple hundred ly out from Jameson Memorial at the time running some missions for the Imps when I got the news. I rushed back as quick as I could and stripped out the Hephaestus of all the mining equipment and cargo racks, leaving a shield, docking computer, and a fuel scoop and replaced everything else with transport cabins. The word quickly spread that they needed help evacuating the stations of civilians that were impeding the damage control efforts. It was time to do my part.
I set off for LH 4031. Most pilots had rushed to Cemiess and Rabh so I decided that I would help out elsewhere and it was a bit closer to where I was. I arrived in system and the system wide distress call filled my PA system. The emergency channels were a mess and the nav beacon was a cloud of ships all milling about. System security was trying to get a handle on everything but you could tell they were overwhelmed. I locked Garrido Market into the nav computer and set course. I approached quickly and the amount of ships jumping in and away from the station while I approached in supercruise was just insane. I had never seen anything like it.
I dropped out of supercruise about 9 klicks from the station and I couldn't believe what I was seeing. Entire sections of the stations hull had been blown out and sections were burning uncontrollably. The stations communications antennas were bent and skewed. Yellow warning lights were flashing across the docking tunnel and the arrestor cage was bent and sheared. There was so much com traffic I was almost unable to hear the emergency procedures announcement from flight control. It was a mess. I was able to secure docking permission and was issued a slip but of course in the state the station was in the docking computer was out so I would be flying this giant brick by stick and throttle. The station was barely able to maintain a stable rotation so internal gravity wasn't going to be a thing. I was trying to decide if that was a good or bad thing when I lined up with the slot and immediately realized bad.
It looked like peeking through a keyhole into hell itself. The docking tunnel force field was barely functioning and the approach lights kept flickering, there was no ball and so much for the red and green. Through the slot I could see only the red emergency lighting punctuated by the occasional orange as a fireball would blast passed the slot. The PA blared to life again and an obviously disheveled and terrified flight controller warned me to avoid floating debris and explosions and that unfortunately they wouldn't be liable for any damages to my ship. Figures, and there is no way that I wouldn't be taking some damage in there but at least I had the shield to take the brunt. Oh how glad I am that I had that shield.
The slot was growing larger and I could now see clouds of smoke billowing and swirling in the near weightless environment, along with huge sections of gantries and cargo transfer cranes that had been torn loose and were floating freely across the docking bay. They were twisted and blackened and had ceased their existence as useful tools to assist pilots and now were instead leading a new existence as the exact opposite of helpful, now aimless floating impediments waiting to impale a wayward ship and adding a macabre decoration to the hellscape in front of me.
I was nervous as I breached the threshold of the slot as this is by far the biggest ship I have ever attempted a manual landing with. Even with the clear views from my signature Lakon bubble cockpit I was not entirely convinced that this behemoth was going to fit through the slot. I transferred 4 pips to shields just in case the ship decided to use the walls of the slot as a bumper guide. I was so focused on making sure the ship was going to clear that I missed the warning message flashing across my HUD warning me of the extreme temperatures ahead. It turns out I didn't need the warning because as soon as we breached the inside of the docking bay the heat was intense and I could feel it right through the canopy. I could barely see my landing pad through the smoke and haze when suddenly a new issue made its existence known in the form of a blaring klaxon. The computer helpfully explained that the klaxon was from my ship's heat levels reaching critical levels. I glanced at the heat indicator and indeed the ship's heat was approaching 90% very quickly. I always travel with heatsinks so I toggled the heatsink launcher and fired one off. The canopy groaned and made cracking sounds as the temperature changed rapidly and I instinctively held my breath as I waited for it to blow out but to my relief it held firm.
That crisis averted I focused again on the landing pad bust was interrupted by yet another surprise as the ship lurched heavily to the port, knocking me off course and sending me strait for a chunk of twisted floating steel that barely resembled the gantry it had once been. I struggled to regain control of the lurching lumbering behemoth as I noticed a ship rising up through the airlock not 20 meters in front. I rolled my ship hard to starboard and fired the dorsal thrusters, knowing they would have more punch than my lateral thrusters and was able to correct my course and clear out of the way and get back to my pad. I looked up to see dying oranges and remaining cloud of smoke from the offending explosion. It was hard to tell but there was some fragmented debris of what looked like hydrogen canisters that must have broken free from their storage housing and drifted into the uncontrolled fire burning 100 meters from my docking platform. After righting my yaw angle to the pad, I was able to quickly fire the dorsal thrusters and touch down with a little more bravado than I had planned but the landing struts held and locked down. Within seconds of landing, the airlock was activated, pulling the ship below. My heat levels were already starting to climb again so I was glad for the relative respite offered down below but relative it was.
The chaos in the hangar bay was a little less immediately life threatening than the docking bay but it was still a mess. Small fires were burning everywhere, most of the holo-displays were out and the heat was still intense although my ship's temperature regulators were able to handle it. I set to work loading the passenger compartments with as many people as I could stuff in not much caring for whatever payment they were offering. They needed to get off this station now, we could settle up later. I wasn't looking for a payday anyways, maybe enough to cover the heat damage and paint job. Once the passengers were all strapped in, I took a deep breath and requested clearance to launch. The gantry lowered and the bay door opened and the intense heat washed over the ship sending my heat gauge climbing rapidly. I wasn't even out of the hangar when my heat indicators started flashing red. It was all I could do to fire off another heatsink as soon as I launched. I glanced around quick and saw two other ships on approach to land and one other that was heading for the slot. I was near the slot so I decided to go for it, punching the ventral thrusters and raising the gear. I tried to stay to the side of the slot but the greens were out so I had no idea which side any approaching ships would come in from. Probably didn't matter anyways, this was a 'fly by the seat of your pants' situation. I just took a deep breath and punched the throttle, hoping the shields would protect us from any glancing blows.
No one was in the slot and in fact it seemed that despite the chaos inside and around the station the flight controllers were doing an admirable job of keeping some semblance of order. I had the engines at full burn and within seconds I had escaped the hazy red glow and flashing yellow lights of the chaotic docking bay and returned to the cool and calm black. The warning klaxon from my heat indicator and flashing red lights on the console immediately ceased and the heat that had radiated through my canopy was gone. My ship was intact, my charges safe and my course was set for the rescue ship 5 mega-meters away. The rest is pretty innocuous; a short supercruise hop, a soft landing performed by the docking computer, grab the triple r's, and disembark my passengers. And then it was off to do it all again. I ran like that for 12 straight hours before the dehydration and exhaustion took to great a toll. It will take me weeks to get the carbon and soot out of the landing gear and the port forward ventral thruster is on its last legs. I will have to replace it later though, as soon as I get some sleep and food I am heading back in. Still a lot of scared people on that station and it's a coin toss whether they will be able to save it or not.
On the plus side, the Imps have seen it wise to give me the title of Duke so I'll have to stitch that somewhere on my flight suit... or maybe not. Not sure if my Fed contacts would appreciate it.
Anyways, take care and I will talk to you again soon.
Jacob.