First Day on the Job - aka - Baptism of Fire
It had been a tough slog, to reach this point. Even before I'd ever climbed into the pilot seat of a Cobra Mk III, I'd dreamed of becoming a bounty hunter, tracking down miscreants across the 8, and dishing out justice with my lasers.
White-knuckled and sweating, I'd managed to survive the docking practice runs, so I set out into the Ooniverse, to trade my way to all the high-tech kit I'd need for my chosen profession. Month after month of mind-numbingly boring milk-runs passed, hauling computers one way, furs and booze the other, to pay for the basic gear needed to make life in the trading lanes a little less hazardous. Hardhead missiles, an extra energy bank, an escape capsule, docking computers, injectors, and so on.
I stayed clear of the main space-lanes, avoiding combat as much as possible. Damage and missiles cost money I could ill afford to lose, so I only fought when I couldn't run. Even with this attitude, my combat rating slowly climbed, life in space being what it is.
Later came some of the nice-to-have equipment, an advanced space compass, heat shielding and a fuel scoop, and a few other bits and pieces, but my main goal was saving up enough cash that I could afford to take on some of the hauling contracts I'd heard about. I steadily built up a reputation for prompt delivery, and finally began to be offered the really lucrative contracts, transporting precious metals and gems, only to learn, to my chagrin, that I still couldn't afford the larger, high-paying gigs. So I took on multiple smaller jobs, to build up enough of a kitty that I could afford to plunk 50,000 - 100,000 credits down on the big contracts that might return anywhere from 30-60% profit or more.
Along the way, I'd gradually added various items to "Attitude Adjuster", the rather presumptuous name I'd given my trusty Cobra Mk III. A front Military laser, a beam laser aft, mil-grade ironhide armour, shield boosters, a targeting memory expansion, etc.
Then the day came when I'd offloaded almost 5 tonnes of platinum, at a hefty profit, at Xexeti, a typical TL 3 Anarchy of the type which seems to be the favourite destination of cargoes like mine, and I happened to notice that just a few lightyears away was a spick and span TL12 Commie system called Onlema.
Taking stock of my situation, I realised I now had over half a million credits to my name, and a combat rating of Above Average(127). Perhaps it was time to begin my real job..
I jumped across to Onlema and started spending money as if it were water.. all the good stuff I'd been drooling over in the Ship Chandlers catalogues for so long was going to be mine!
Before long my bank account was almost 300,000 credits lighter, but now I had a military shield enhancement, an anti-missile system and darts, a bounty scanner, a military injector upgrade, a chaff dispenser, a police IFF scanner, a self-repair system, fore and aft shield capacitors, a shield equaliser, a sniperlock system, and some other good stuff. I was ready to take on the Ooniverse!
I jumped back to Xexiti and dialed up the local Seedy Space Bar on my ASC. It was named, with a distinct lack of imagination, "A Seedy Space Bar". Somehow this seemed to me a fitting place to begin my new career, so I locked in a course, and in short order was docked at the Bar. Despite my 'Outsider" status, the system seemed willing enough to offer me a contract, and before long the details arrived in my email.
Principal "Thunder Missile" McGreavy was awaiting her destruction in the Esgerean System, only four or five hops away, on the other side of the infamous "Devil's Triangle", a trio of Anarchy systems. I don't even recall the meal I had at the bar before leaving, so intent was I on my very first mission.
Researching my target en-route, I learned that Esgerean was an average industrial dictatorship, TL 10, with about 4 billion human colonials living dirtside. "Shouldn't be too bad", I thought.. "might meet a bit of opposition, but nothing too stiff"..
I sun-skimmed all the way, and arrived at Esgerean ready for a rumble.. or so I thought.
I pointed myself at the Station Nav Beacon, and kicked in the Torus Drive.. I knew it wouldn't be long before I was mass-locked, and I was right.. an Astrofactory, and a couple of ships. The Police IFF showed them to be clean, but I ID'd them, to be sure my mark was not one of 'em, and to have them programmed into my targeting comp, just in case. A few asteroids were drifting about, but that was all.. I realigned with the Nav Beacon, and was about to inject clear, when a couple of ships appeared near the port edge of the scanner. Offenders, according to the police IFF.
Whipping the Attitude Adjuster around to ID them, I noticed another Offender pop up behind me. As I ID'd the first ship, a Gecko, the red alert alarm sounded. The ship behind me had locked on. Muttering grimly, I ID'd the second ship, a Sidewinder, before turning my attention to the newcomer. Before I'd even completed the turn, I heard my shields screech as they absorbed incoming laser fire. The Target Autolock identified the incoming fire as coming from a Python.
Pythons can be a royal pain in the ass, so I resolved to take him out before dealing with the two smaller ships. As I lined up on the incoming Python, the Sidewinder and Gecko opened up on me from behind. Ignoring them, since they were barely scratching my shields, I carefully poured laser fire into the Python until the overheat alarm went off. As he passed overhead, he fired a pair of missiles, but I'd been ready for that, and slapped the ECM three times in quick succession.
I chopped the throttle and pushed down hard, spinning the ship around before feeding in the juice again as I came up behind him. He was a slippery customer, jinking and dodging frantically, as I struggled to get him into my sights. His friends continued pouring fire into me all the while, and I could hear the crackling buzz as the capacitors dumped their charge into the depleted shields. I kept a wary eye on the read-outs of the Numeric HUD I'd had installed long ago, but the mil-spec shields were coping well.
When I glanced at the scanner, it was rather more crowded than before.. there seemed to be several more asteroids, and a couple of extra ships had appeared. Naturally, they too were designated in red. "So, it's a party you guys want, huh?" I growled as the incoming fire stepped up a notch. Now my shields were starting to feel the effect, so I locked a hardhead onto the Python, and sent it off to keep him occupied for a bit while I attended to his mates.
I injected straight at the newcomers, and noticed as I passed that one was a Fer-de-lance. He lobbed a missile at me in passing, which smashed into my forward shield before I could react. The capacitors and equaliser were working overtime, but they were doing a fine job. Nothing was getting through, and the shields were regenerating faster than I'd expected.
Turning, I got a lock on the Ferdy's friend, a Moray, and started chewing away at his shields. As I did so, it occurred to me that the scanner had even more red blobs on it than it did before. Concluding that this worrying development would have to wait, I concentrated my fire on the Moray, and was pleased to see him explode. I was less pleased about the two missiles he launched before dying, but a couple of taps of the ECM killed one, and the other was soaked up by my forward shield. I was beginning to feel quite fond of those military shields!
A quick count of the red markers revealed nine or ten ships, all of whom seemed to object to my presence. There were even a couple of yellow 'clean' markers now, but they appeared to be doing their best to quietly back out of the room they'd blundered into.
The situation devolved into a furball of whirling, twisting ships as I struggled to maintain a bead on anything long enough to kill it. The Python drifted across my sights again, still running from the hardhead I'd launched, so I gave him a blast which left him venting plasma before my laser overheated. I zoomed the scanner in to try and reduce the clutter, and tried to concentrate on one target at a time.
My shields started taking a pounding, and no matter how violently I manoeuvred, I couldn't shake the incoming fire. I injectored away from the group, which broke their lock, and while waiting for the shields to regenerate, ID'd some more of my attackers. There were two Ferdy's, and two Morays, a couple of Sidewinders, and that damned Gecko was still there as well.
I love those shields! Man, they regen so fast! In what seemed like no time at all I was back in the fray. The Python came under my guns, and died within seconds. The Target Autolock immediately latched onto a Ferdy that was firing at me, so he was the next to feel my wrath. He twisted and writhed like the snake he was named after, but I kept on him relentlessly, chipping away at his shields a little at a time. After I splashed him, I changed tactics, hammering on any ship that crossed my path, not really using my targeting systems at all. I lobbed another hardhead at one of the Ferdy's, when he began to annoy me too much.
At one point my shields were down to around 15%, both fore and aft. I suspect this was the shield equalisers at work. During the entire battle the buzzing of the capacitors and equalisers was almost constant. I injected away again, and soon was back to strength.
The whirling cluster of ships continued, spinning, twisting, with me in the middle, taking fire from all sides and trying desperately to hold my own, whilst simultaneously doing my best to even the odds. Some of the pirates must have broken away and run, but at the time all I noticed was that suddenly there were less enemy than there had been, giving me time to concentrate on one ship at a time. Four ships remaining, then three. Two, one, and finally I was alone..
Feeling like I'd just spent half an hour in a tumble-dryer, I set course for the station, resuming my hunt for the mark I'd been sent to kill. Wondering what on earth would be next, to be sure, but with greatly strengthened faith in the abilities of my ship.
The run to the station was uneventful, and there was no sign of my target. Sighing, I turned, lined up on the witchpoint beacon, and set off along the lane, ID'ing every ship I saw, but in vain.
Reaching the Astrofactory, I noticed a number of Offenders loafing about. None of them were my mark, of course, but they did turn out to be the regrouped survivors of my earlier encounter. They were also willing to do battle, it seemed.
They fought well, but they died. Reaching the beacon, I turned for my third pass along the spacelane. This time, there was no opposition waiting at the factory. I reached the main station again, uneventfully. Wondering how long I was going to have to keep this up, I about-faced again, and set off for the witchpoint beacon. I encountered a couple of traders being attacked by a pair of Cobra MkI's.. Soon there were two more dead pirates.
A little before I reach the factory again, a lone Offender appeared on my scanner. Resignedly, I ID the ship. It's my mark! They're off about 15km, and sitting dead centre in my SniperLocked sights, apparently heading straight at me, since my target lock holds.
I squeeze the trigger on my stick, and three seconds later there's a small explosion.
My comms show Ms McGreavy first insulted me, then offered to bargain for her life. I didn't even notice the messages until after it was over. It has to be the most anti-climactic kill I've ever made.
Only as I'm setting up the nav-puter for the jump out of system, does it dawn on me.. there was a Rock Hermit located in the asteroids near that Astrofactory.. I'd blundered right into a Pirate Cove!
My rating was now Competent(139). With one exception, the last dozen were the toughest kills of my life. Jumping to Riraes, in the Devil's Triangle, I report to the Seedy Space Bar there, "The Fat Feline". I was now officially a "Recruit"! I collect my 440 credits, and order an Inzaqumaian Mallard Souffle, washed down with a tankard of wicked strength goat blood. It goes down well, and I idly watch the local Vacuum Cricket Charity Match, as I ponder my next mark.. one Rabbi Brynison. He and his MkI Cobby won't know what hit them..
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Sorry Fatleaf, I should have checked that thread out first as its a bit more fitting for my useless endevours!