I refit into the Silent Oracle, her codes still active in some quirky database of GalNet. Reports of Thargoid attacks were appearing all over civilized space and opportunity abounded for entrepreneurs such as myself. With the barest inkling of a plan I set off to see what kind of adventure I could find.
Category: Elite Dangerous
..why is it Djabara.. What secrets do you hide? Who compels me to go?
I’m running risk with untested new ordinance modifications. But it’s a risk I have to take. Someone wants me in Djabara. A trap? Sure. But a trap I intend to spring.
I don’t need Thargoids to carry guns. Humanity in all it’s majestic variety is dangerous enough to warrant a thick hull and a fierce arsenal.
I dropped into system with days and hundreds of hyperspace jumps behind me. If there weren’t sensors telling me what I was seeing or logs to validate what I saw, I might think this was space madness.
The ‘Thunder slipped out of supercruise, nestling into a cloud of condensed gasses quietly, cautiously. Electrostatic flashes lashed out from the cloud, highlighting the odd structures buried within. Slowly I crept through the cloud, watching those giants’ toys lurking nearby.
The Eta Carina nebula is nearly nine-thousand light-years from Sol. I wasn’t looking forward to the journey, but an opportunity to survey distant worlds and collect data on some lost colonies was difficult to pass up.
It took two days but I arrived at the CRV Concordia late in the afternoon. A welcome respite and chance to patch a couple of scuffs I had acquired along the way. I should have stopped to consider a refit but I felt productive and I didn’t want to let this feeling escape. A much-needed nap later I was back in the seat, pushing my way down to Gria Eork EP-A d0.
I was lacking some necessary resources for this journey, notably my supply of germanium for the jump-fuel booster was low and a crucial stop near the bottom of the Galaxy set me up for a couple of long-reach jumps into Gria Eork EP-A d0.
I almost stuck around for a few days, the rolling hillsides were a splendid shade of sand. But I have objectives and a schedule.
It’s a beautiful thing to visit space. It’s another to live there, nestled among the darkness.
In a few short days I’ll be joining an expedition into the darkness. Adventurers threw out the call and I answered. We’ll see if I come back..
Belt patrols in Disci are a grim necessity. We’ve pushed our boundary out far enough that pirates are slipping into the cracks. If there isn’t a war brewing up then there’s a war in motion. While the most militant of my group put boot to ass, I keep to the belts. I prefer the quiet simplicity of the tumbling ‘roids and the lazy way miners go looking for a ‘good score’.
Gliese 452.3 – Fragile Thunder
Teamed with Rakanoez we dove into the fray with abandon and a hunger known to anti-pirate mercenaries like ourselves. Not for the money, no.. we had a more basal inclination. “Red is Dead” as they say.
We engaged targets in the waves they arrived in, some packing serious danger that between the two of us was quite manageable. Some arrived in scattered wings that were picked apart like common belt rats.
It was on the third sortie that we encountered serious danger and sufficient numbers arrived with sufficient intent. Seems someone in the enemy command structure decided two Pythons were getting the better of them and upped the ante. “13 targets, are we engaging?”
I nodded, mostly to myself “Pull them away from the tanker if you can.”
They had other plans, multiple hostiles lit my radar, angry blinking ensued as laser and cannon fire pelted my shields. It wasn’t long, the Fragile Thunder can’t normally sustain fire of that intensity, and my armor started to peel away from the focus.
I evaded but the damage was done, I limped to range to let power restore some semblance of a protective bubble. But the transport was in danger and I bit at the chance to win this.
I bit too hard, too long. As I dove into their number trying to thin the swarm they fought back. For every laser on my ship I was met by three more. Before I could regret my choice integrity failed and I was left in a smoldering hulk for rescue services to pick up.
Ventured out towards the Witch Head Nebula, collecting resources for a special project.
Passed by this glorious beauty and stopped to bask.
Met up with some other commanders in the squadron. It was a quiet night and they were investigating one of the many derelict Generation Ships floating about in space.
This was Venusian, abandoned after an unfortunate encounter with pirates. A problem you’d think nobody would expect, when embarking on a mission to found a colony so many years from home. I certainly wouldn’t expect it.
But then, nobody said space was safe.. or friendly.