29 Jan 2011

Bloodstained Claw

Hadozeko Solar System.
Tiat Constellation.

The routine journey back to Molden Heath was interrupted as a Catalyst destroyer briefly blipped onto the directional scanner before disappearing out of sight. I had just enough time to notice that the ship had indeed not been renamed and was displaying the name of its pilot for all to see. As I engaged my warp thrusters and made my way to the centre of the system I ran a quick check through the local solar system data.

Three pilots all belonging to the same corporation, the destroyer pilot was only a couple of weeks into his life as a capsuleer - the other two, not so young. I ran another directional scan and my attention was diverted to a nearby asteroid belt.

Catalyst - Stabber - Cyclone at 5 degrees.

The adrenaline flow that comes before every fight seemed to kick into overdrive right about now, the data in my head that I was streaming, sifting, sorting, flowed into my veins and mixed with the endorphins coursing through me. The buzz was present more so than any other recent fight I could remember and it hadn't even started yet!

As my warp engines powered down and I landed in the asteroids I immediately locked up the Catalyst and began to take damage from the Cyclone and the Stabber as I manoeuvred my nimble frigate into a comfortable range. The Catalyst went down without much fight and I switched my attention to the Stabber. The cruiser was buckling as my autocannons ripped into its shields and armour, at the same time it became clear that I too was now taking some heavy damage. Alarms began shrieking loudly as bits of interceptor hull began to melt and fold under the weight of the incoming fire and the flight of drones that I was desperately trying to shake off.

I burnt away to re-assess the situation, streaking away in the blue-grey skies like a dart, still spitting ammunition at the Stabber which was now also in hull, hoping that it would give up the fight. Then the drones came again and I made the decision to get out, my overheated guns straining under the pressure of the injected heat flow to them, the coolant desperately trying to hold back an impending module failure.

As my ship kicked into life and left the field my whole body shook with intensity as the hormones began to settle again and I took a deep mouthful of pod fluid that went straight down into my lungs. My ship was on fire as I sat in a safe spot with my GCC.


Evaluating the engagement whilst docked up for repairs it is clear that the killmail generated perhaps does not tell the true story of the fight. The adrenaline flow was intense, evading drone fire and trying to finish off the Stabber before my own ship exploded all the time trying to carefully manage range and over-heated modules. Great fights like this don't come along all too often and when you do get them it is best to saviour the moment.



1 comment:

  1. Nice one. If only killmails could show the whole story, eh? But then again what would be blog about...