[OOC] This is an unfinished tale of the bravery and combat that took place during the final eviction of Paxton Federation where they fought often outnumbered and with a determination that has to be recomended. Local held likke smack and lots of GF’s. The story was never finished as I took a small break from EvE shortly after due to RL stuff. Nothing major, just life catching up every now and then 
Who knows if I will ever finish it, but The loader is still part of the crew and is still operating the guns of various ships.
Enjoy what little was written…
The sweat ran down the mans forehead and mixed with blood comming from a small scar above the left eye. It lingered for a brief moment in his eyebrow before a small pearl broke loose and ran down the nose. Four more reddish pearls ran down the nose and formed a drop that spilled to the floor. Next to the small pool of sweat and blood on the floor was 56 Null L charges. There would be no second loading of the longrange special ammo. Most of the Federation Navy Antimatter was gone as well and last resort would be a pile of 2300 rounds of regular anti-matter that had been looted from an enemy Megatron that passed within 2,5 km. A qucik search of the wreck in the heat of battle had secured the ammunition.
He could not feel his legs and his hands was humming with the effort of keeping the blasters operational. He turned his right hand over in his lap and looked at where his middle finger once had been. He smiled at the roughness of his hand, smeared in oil and hydraulic fluid as it was. Six hours earlier he remembered his shirt had been whole and in general he had felt in better shape than his current condition.
The ship was newly build and had not seen battle. It was designed and rigged with the modules needed for closerange warfare. Next to it was a an identical hull but it had the 425mm railgun mounted. The owner of these large and powerfull ships had a full crew for the, for lack of better definition, “425mm ship”. The owner however had no crew for this blaster fitted monster.
The man looked at the que for the crew sign-up. Navigators, engineers, warp drive operators, welders, robot handlers and medical crew was all to be found waiting in line leading up to the ramp of the ship. He inhaled one more time on his handrolled cigarette, threw it away and joined the file of men and women seeking employment.
After an almost three hour wait he was at the table. The person sitting there was obviously of Caldari origin. He had heard of the Captain before. Apparently the Captain had come to Ushra’Khan as a mercenary but had for some reason overstayed his contract. Eventualy he had become a diplomat for the Ushra’Khan but besides his desk duties still performed active combat.
A personel officer was sitting next to the Captain.
“Profession?” the personnel officer asked.
“Gunner.” the man answered.
“Grade?” the personnel officer asked.
“2nd.” the man answered.
“Place your right hand in the scanner, insert your ID card in the slot and look into the eris scanner.”
The man did as told. A small needle penetrated his hand in 3 random places drawing a little blood. The blood would be checked against the ID and the eris, modelling the full dna profile vs CONCORD archives as well as internal Ushra’Khan databases.
The personnel officer looked up briefly. Their eyes met. The personnel officer raised an eyebrow and a nod with his head indicated for the man to board the space ship.
“What was that about?” Asked the Captain.
“His DNA is almost perfect for a pod pilot and his ability to interface with a pod would work, only it would be a “wet grave” if he ever hooked up to a ship interface. This is as close you can come to being a podpilot without actually getting there. There were several cases of “wet graves” back in the old days before the gene that caused it was mapped correctly. Back then the Jovians had already manipulated their genes so it was no hindrance, but other bloodlines and races all had defects within their genepool so in fact only few can attain the podpilot status” The personnel officer explained.
“Aha, I see” The Captain said.
The man entered the briefing room and was met by the buzzing sound of hundreds of people making small talk conversation. It was a special room inside the ship that the Captain had had designed and not part of the regular layout of a Megathron battleship. The Captain liked to give a small speech to the crew explaining the political, strategic and tactical situation as well as what was expected of the crew before embarking on a mission or operation.
The man took an available seat in the gunnery section of the auditorium and prepared for the enviable wait. Hours passed as more people joined the ones that were already seated.
Finally the Captain showed up and walked to a small podium.
“We march on soldiers of the Ushra’Khan” His voice bellowed, clearly magnified by some hidden speaker system.
“Today we invade the system of MH9, the very home of Paxton Federation. PXF has for a long time stood against Ushra’Khan and its allies and is the last of the Holder alliances to hold space in Providence. The fight today is likely to draw in whatever allies they have left in the area including the still numerous CVA.”
“We will be jumping into a yet undisclosured system next to MH9 and then jump in to MH9. This will likely happen under heavy fire from the PXF/CVA fleet.”
There was a short silence as the Captain looked over the ranks.
“Yes, there will be casualties and we may go down in flame but we will try our damnest to keep ourself and our fleet buddies alive through our Remote Repair systems.”
The man did not need to be told of casualties, he knew all of it. Like a hive the individual dies to keep the fleet intact and in fighting condition.
“Once in we will engage the Ihub and reinforce this. We may ro may not be attacking a starbase to take down a cyno jammer.”
The Captian looked over the crowd and had the ability to make it seem that he looked each in the eye in turn.
“May the missiles fly straight and blasters hit true. To your stations troops.”
Everyone got up and filed out under the thunderous murmur that usually engulf a crowd where everyone chatter a little higher than the guy next to him.
The man took his station next to the blaster gun that would be his station, 9 more were at the monster blaster making up the team that would make sure the gun would run smoothly under operation. The man slipped under the metal bar and into the seat of the exo skeleton robot. He ran a quick diagnostic of the robot that encapsuled him as the big ship left the hangar. The undock point was crammed with over 100 ships trying to clear the station.
As the megathron alignd for the starbase that would be the staging point the man engaged the magnetic feet of the exo skeleton robot. It always gave a littke jerk when the robot “snatched” into place. There was ofcource the artificial gravtial field inside the ship. It was sufficient for everyday operation and could hold a person in place, but a large robot in a combat environment needed the extra grip.
The man flexed his mechanic muscles and nodded to the others around the gun. There was no need for words for two reasons. First and foremost, if people did not know what to do they would not be there. Second, the life expectancy of the gunners was low and superstition surrounded every aspect of the job. General chatter “at station” was considered bad luck. The 1st Grade gunner looked around at his team. A mechanical camera made it out for his left eye and a rather advanced mechanical arm had taken the place of his left underarm. Streaks of scared flesh covered the entirety of the left side of his face and the skin tissue of his upper left arms was a complex pattern of dark brown streaks mixed with small pools of white. The tell tale signs from an Amarrian laser breaching the hull integrity was never pretty.
There were 4 3rd grade gunners on each side commanded by the 1st grade gunner on one side and the 2nd grade gunner on the other. There were no women on the team either, again superstition was the main factor and although there were supposed to be “equality” on the ship, the personnel officers were well aware of the complications that could arise and women were consequently discarded for various fabricated reasons if they were to apply for such a position.
From the gunnery hatch the man could see the ships coming out of warp and approaching a Titan class vessel. He had not even noticed the ship entering and coming out of warp 10 kilometers from the titan. He remembered as a kid when sitting on his dads lap hearing the tales of intergalactic travels. There had always been sounds of “SWOOSH” or “SWOOOMP” and other sounds that supposedly accompanied a warp across a system. If there was a sound he had never heard it so he always mentally made the sound whenever he actually noticed the ship entering and coming out of warp.
More and more ships joined the fleet and smaller support ships had also showed up now. There was the usual wait as well as a battleship crossing shield with the titan causing the ships to rotate.
“Stand by for bridge” the voice of some relay officer sounded in his ear snail.
“This is your captain speaking. We will bridge out on a gate, jump though it and enter combat. Primary will be the deployed large bubble. Battle stations!”
Dull and slowly rotating lights started to emit a red light.
Being bridged however does make a sound or is it sensation? The feeling compares best to getting a kick in the guts and then suddenly missing the stomach and being hungry at the same time.
The ship approached the gate and jumped as soon as it got in range.
Everything went silent…
The man was dimly aware of the hull vibrating as the sensor modules powered up, readying for combat and taking in its surrounding. In an instant the ship came to life and decloaked with the rest of the fleet. The ship was hit by the active sensors of 100’s of ships, friendly and enemy alike as everyone fought to get tactical awareness. There were enough micro and radar waves crossing space to fry a medium sized animal.
“Full speed ahead. Engage the microwarpdrive. Primary the Bubble probe. Drones in bay. Align at…”
The huge guns went to work, first shot was already loaded and as soon as the sensors locked the probe the charge was fired. The hydraulic sent the ton heavy slug on its way and in one smooth motion ejected the cartridge into space.
“LOAD!” Called the 1st Grade Gunner.
A large Null slug was transported by the man and his crew, via a slider in the loft from the stock, where they were stored in huge racks, to the gun, while the 1st Grade Gunner and his team was working the hatch and hydraulic.
“LOADED!” Called the man as the hatch slammed shut.
The huge short barreled gun propelled the slug at the anchored warp probe with a force that vibrated the ship.
“LOAD!”
The sound of the shield generators was slowly rising as the Megathron came under fire from small support vessels and the generator was trying to compensate the decline in shield power. The humming became almost unbearable when max recharge rate was reached and overcome by the incoming fire.
As one more Null round went off the siren sounded alerting everyone that the shield was about to collapse. It was not ground for panic and was expected in a ship that was designed to resist attacks with it thick armor. However it did mean that there was about to be “rocking of the boat” as the crew called it, as armor hits did not have the deflective and absorbing capabilities of the shields.
“INCOMMING!”
The enemy close support closed in and engaged, their primary objective to hold our fleet in place while their main sniper fitted battleships took turkey shots from 130 km above. The shield generator humming went low and was quickly replaces by the crawling sound of nano robots swarming in to repair the damage being dealt.
The warp disrupt probe exploded in a firework that illuminated the fleet and hurt the eyes as electro pulses and waves clashed. The man could hear the explosions and estimated that the rate that the armor was hit it would hold. Another ship to the starboard was less lucky and exploded in thousand bits.
The ship yanked hard to the left and the warpcores started up.
“Stand by for close range combat” the Captains voice sounded in his ear snail.
“BRACE!”
The fleet warped directly into the enemy sniper fleet. Metal hit metal as many of ships collided and the two fleets got toe to toe.
“TARGET! FIRE ALL GUNS. ENGAGE DRONES.”
The ship gentely rocked as an enemy Brutix exploded nearby. The scan resolution finally calculated the enemy megathron that was called primary and a single volly was sent into its hull that burst into a sub gravity firework. The pace picked up as the enemy fleet tried to run away. An enemy Apocalypse glided by and the megathron send out a disruption signal that rendered it microwarp drive and warpcore useless. The man could see the heavy drones go to work on the shield as a new primary, also an apocalypse, was called. The heavy neutron blasters were ripping through the fragile armor of the sniper fitted ships. The starlit sky was illuminated by one interdiction bubble after another going up around the ships as the enemy tried to break free of the deadly embrace.
“HOLD” Shouted the 1st Grade Gunner.
Almost complete silence followed, only sound hearable was the chirping of the electronic counter sinals being emitted from the ship and the hissing as the hydraullic tubes came to rest, the guns slowly assuming their initial “safe” position.
The man had sweat run into his eyes and whiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He had seen his share of battle but not of this magnitude and not so desicive. The enemy wrecks littered the field. The heat in the gunnery section was intense and the hummidity killing. The smell of the gun charges mixed with exhaust gasses from various machinery. A sharp smell. The smell of home to the man.
The ship turned at the order of the captain and headed for the IHUB located in the system.
“This is your captain speaking. We will land at the IHUB and create a diversion. We expect the enemy to warp in at range and take shots at us. We must remain vigilant and ready to respond to our covert-Ops probing them down.”
The man was not used to this level of information but the captain expected the crew to perform and therfore have some idea of what was about to happen.
The ship came out of warp 10 km from the IHUB and lit it up.
The man started working the machinery again as the blasters spoke the language of violence.
