Ouelletta was unusually quiet when I came up with the best target I'd seen in days on the scanner: a Moa-class cruiser had gone into an asteroid belt. Moas aren't weaklings, but I knew its cruiser-sized blasters just wouldn't be able to catch my Rifter. I warped in, cheering as I caught the cruiser with my warp scrambler - I had already won, I just needed to wait out its shields.
As my autocannons wore down its heavy shields, a swarm of drones poured from its drone bay. "Ah good. It will be a fight, then," I thought. I turned my attention to the drones and managed to keep up with the damage they dealt to my armor as I destroyed them each in turn. I finally turned my attention back to the Moa, and worked my way through the rest of his shields.. when a proximity alarm suddenly flashed red on my HUD.
The combat had started quite far from any of the asteroids in this belt, but the Moa's pilot had inched us closer and closer while I had been focusing on taking down his shields. The structure of my Rifter groaned as the computer compensated, breaking and banking hard to avoid collision with an asteroid; vectoring me directly away from the Moa. I was a sitting duck as the Moa's blasters finally were able to align and pounded my ship with round after round of hot plasma. I escaped with my pod as I congratulated the Moa's pilot for his excellent job of using the terrain to his advantage. And I cursed to myself for losing such an excellent target.
Back in
It's been good to be flying a Rifter again. The feeling of freedom that comes with flying a cheap ship is excellent - you can take on targets you know you won't win against because you don't mind losing. The loss of the Rust II was just that kind of loss.
After cleaning myself up and getting checked out for any long-term damage that being adrift for so long might have done to me, I headed to the hangar level of the station to procure myself another ship. Some kind benefactor had left my accounts 30 million ISK richer while I had been gone.. this time, it hadn't been Guillome. I used the money to outfit another Vengeance, the Heritage III. It was time to get back in the saddle. I fitted the Heritage III with high-tech pulse lasers instead of rockets, as the rockets from my usual supplier had changed their payload, and seemed much less effective now.*
The warning lights flashed in the darkness; my eyes could have been open, but my view was still blank save for a single red warning. I must be in my pod, as I couldn’t see or feel my body.