Eight days. Eight days to get some semblance of a basic system function back.
In the time I waited, I had drawn some more detailed self-made charts, refined my plan to explore Omega 55 and even reached out to my weapons expert. Old methods in times of desperation still work. Nothing on the actual nature of the weapons though, so still a dead end. One things for sure, I wouldn’t be exploring yet... I needed a miracle to make it to Gran Canaria as it was, let alone head to my contact.
With the ship systems back to some semblance of function, I checked any contact that may have been logged in the ships beaten-up state. Greeted with the same that I had before. Nothing from those I could trust. A quick check of Freeport Eleven before I needed to head out, it was possible they'd left something there. Revenant, Order and a Zoner, discussing something. I didn't pay much attention, my mind was on other things. Cat and Daros. Performed a quick system check, searched for any form of note, communication or mail left. Anything that would tell me either of them were ok. There was nothing...
Launched from the station, bid farewell to the trio, and headed towards Theta. Ship had priority now, a much needed repair. There was a surprise for me though. The trio requested that I delay my trip enough that they could escort me to my intended final destination. Of course. why wouldn't I want someone to carry my escape pod in case my ship cant maintain enough integrity through the radiation zones? They caught up pretty quickly, with the Zoner having to restock at Freeport Eleven. Maybe the biggest surprise of the journey... was seeing Locks Hitman insignia. Seemed he was as surprised to see me there, in that state as I was to see him at all.
A short interaction, not much to talk about when the thermal readings on your ship are rising and your vessel is held together with makeshift reinforcing alloys and sealants. Lock had a different agenda, and seemed disinterested in the idea of running escort to Omegas. I was more concerned with the Neutron Radiation that we would be passing through... but I did what I usually do. Show confidence. Truth was, I wasn't even sure I would make it through to Gran Canaria either. While the Zoner was catching up, we took the Jump through to Theta. The light radiation didn't have too much of an effect, but that didn't mean it wouldn't cause issues later. Freeport Nine. our rendezvous point.
Every time I'm around this station, it reminds me of the whole pointless bloodshed. The waste of manpower, resources and time. All could have been better spent elsewhere. But, that's Corsairs and Outcasts for you. Thinking about these things also wont fix my ships borderline critical state. Didn't have to wait too long though. We were soon on the way to Omega space. Possibly the hardest part of the Journey. Jump successful. Systems functional. Then the sparking. Engines were operational, cruise set towards Omega-52. No time to waste when you can feel the radiation seeping in through the damaged hull. Revenant was kind enough to update me on the remaining structural integrity of my ship as it degraded in the vicinity of the neutron star. Sure knows how to really maintain ones focus on their flying skills. "Nine percent... Eight percent..." Not helping!!
Little choice now, there was already a warning on the navigation console that there was radiation on the other side of the jump. and I didn't have enough to make it back to Theta. I would have to risk it now, in the hopes that my systems were fully correct and that the radiation wasn't completely throughout. Jumped, locked onto the next point that would bring a reprieve to my minimal hull integrity. The Order and Zoner maintained their own pace, leaving us a little strung out, but there wasn't any time to think about flying in formation. Breaching out of the barsakelmes nebula was the largest relief of the journey so far. Systems were registering clean of radiation. "Three percent." Not a lot, but enough for what remained of the journey. Omega-48 was also a welcome sight on the sensors.
Gran Canaria. A paradise world, barely populated, but definitely well-versed in fixing ships. Enough at least, to restore good integrity to the hull to make it back to cruiser Greifswald in Omega-7. I thanked them for their willing support in my time of need, and landed. Of course, the repair crews were as surprised to see her land as they were to see someone get out the pilot seat. Little time for messing around, asked how much they could repair and paid up-front. Browsed the inventory the engineers had, then what goods they had available. Flicked through my notes on the smuggling routes I used to run. Greifswald needed supplies. Some of which were being sold here. Oxygen being one of those. Requested my ship be stocked as full as could be managed without integrity being compromised.
Some time later, the call that repairs were as good as they could get came through. And that those who had escorted me here were waiting in orbit. Needless now I had around Fifty percent integrity. Ah well. Company wouldn't be an unwelcome presence on the last stretch. Omega-5, a danger site for most. Felt ironically quite peaceful cruising through. No radiation eating the hull away, no real threats to make note of.
You know the trip is relaxed when the conversation flows, and you don’t realise you’re there until the Cruiser opens up on your escorts. Frantic evasive manoeuvres of them and a quick inbound transmission to the base crew, eventually the targeting systems were temporarily set to ignore. Our arrival seemed to surprise the LWB, and when i explained what had transpired, they urged a, emergency landing. Gratitude and farewells were given out to the trio of escort vessels, and we parted ways. Knave, Revenant and Annika. An Order, Technocracy and Zoner pilot. Quite the unusual group. I suppose thats Omicrons for you. Always full of surprises.
