It was a great feeling to get back in to the pilot's seat after such a long time away. I had to take a second to just sit back and admire Razorwing's sharp angles and contours. The Caldari have an amazing way of making their ships not only deadly but true pieces of art. I walked around after and smelled the sweet fumes of the fueling dock. There was also a hint of cordite in the air accompanied by the mechanized clanking of the weapon rack loading salvo after salvo of rockets into the launchers I had "re appropriated" from some poor merchant who was not expecting to be scrammed only 2 AU away from his pos heh.
I had taken up residence in a faction warfare lane with several fellow RIFTA pilots and so far the pickings had been plentiful. Wave after wave of militia members tried their hands at removing us from the area but for every one of our measly frigates they managed to destroy, we would simply re-ship and destroy 10 more. It was a war of attrition if I'd ever seen one. One that benefited me and my fellow scallywags 10 fold. As I was doing a quick systems check, Sam Sobati came strolling up with his tea in his usual manner, He was of English descent or something, whatever that meant. Something to do with a predisposition to tea and some horrid food called crumpets. They must have been a homely people back in their time (you know I love ya bud haha).
"Feel good to be back eh?" Sam asked casually.
"You don't even know the half of it. I being sober might have been the worst of it though." I replied jokingly.
Sam laughed heartily then in a rather sudden manner asked, "Hey how about we go take that thing out for a spin. It hasn't seen the light of day in ages since you've been gone."
"I don't know man, I'm still working out some kinks in the Tracking Disruption system. I can't afford to take any direct hits in this thing. It's made of spit and some of that head wax Brink used to keep in his Rifter." I replied.
"Well no better way to test that hero tank than to throw it into a battery of weapons right? I will admit trying a Rocket Condor like that is pretty balsy though." said Sam.
"Haha might as well I suppose, you're the boss. Lets head out."
Fights were plentiful all night and Sam and I both scored several kills. The minmatar and amaar militias simply didn't have the experience to counter both Razorwing and Sam's Atron. Our destination Siseide seemed fairly active and after a few battles to get in to the system, Sam and I both managed to dodge customs and security at the gate and make our way in. After we had located and set up at a perch we both began to scan down the system for possible targets. After a few minutes a rather large and foreign signature popped up at the Large militia outpost.
"Hey Spec, you recognize this signature? My scanner can't pick it out." Sam asked.
I plugged the signature in my scanner and began decoding. It was a newer Gallente signature, but what was it doing all the way out in Amaar/Minmatar FW space? I contemplated the thought for a few minutes when my scanner started blinking. "DECRYPTION COMPLETE: SHIP NUMBER 077265 GALLENTE FACTION BATTLECRUISER: CLASS: BRUTIX" A Navy Brutix? Out here?
"Hey Sam check this out, you won't believe it." I said as I tried to hide my excitement.
Sam was quiet for several seconds as he took in the signature and what it meant for us and our prospective wallets.
"You think we can break it mate?" He questioned.
"The worst that can happen is we hold point and get back up. We might as well try." I replied.
"Lets do it, sig locked in, engaging warp drive." Sam relayed to me.
We warped in and landed about 10 km off of our unsuspecting target. Sam and I both locked on and began pouring all the fire power our frigates could muster into the hulking ship. I engaged my Tracking disruptor halfway expected it to fizzle out and go offline. Much to my surprise, the module engaged and worked perfectly. The Brutix attempted to return fire but simply could not get a solid lock on our small fast moving frigates. After several minutes of brutal fighting the Brutix had finally found itself capped out and quickly losing pressure in it's cabins. Small vents of air began rupturing from it's sides and it began to list as key stabilizing and weapons systems began to fail and go offline. As the ship began to enter structure damage, my console lit up like a christmas tree. Flashing lights were going off all around my weapons modules. "WARNING WEAPONS MALFUNCTION: UNABLE TO LOAD."
"Shit! I can't be out of fucking rockets! Not now! Sam, can you hold him while I find some ammunition?" I asked frantically.
"Negative mate, I'm running low on cap as it is. Can you stay on grid and keep point? Your Tracking Disruptor is the only thing keeping me going out here." He replied.
"Copy that, staying on grid. Finish him quick. We need to get out of here."
"I've got a little surprise for this guy hehe." Sam said with a sadistic tone.
After repeated volleys from our ships the Brutix's core had become partially exposed leaving the ship extremely vulnerable to a magnetically charged round from Sam's railguns. I saw a bright light gathering around his rails and in a split second he released his round. Time slowed to a standstill. I tracked the round in its bluish white tint almost like a shooting star. The round found it's mark at exactly the right time. It only took a split second for the core to overload and begin overloading all of the ships systems and wracking it with explosions all throughout the ship. In a final death throw you could hear the ship creaking and groaning as it's structure began tearing apart. The ship split and was engulfed in a massive explosion that blinded us both.
"Hell yea! We just killed a fucking Brutix man." I yelled over the comms.
"Mate, you're going to want to take a look at this." Sam whispered over the comm link.
I squinted at the hologram Sam sent over and could barely believe my eyes. The ship had been outfitted with the latest faction equipment down to the railguns it had online. The total worth of the ship was estimated in the hundreds of millions of isk. Sam and I could barely believe our eyes, or our wallets. We had hit the jackpot.
"Scoop this shit up and lets get the fuck out of here." Sam hurriedly squeezed out.
"Yea, yea lets do that." I replied still in disbelief.
"Lets hightail it out of here, I'll scout ahead of you." I told Sam.
We warped off in to the distance as fast as our ships could muster still in disbelief. As we finally entered the station and dropped off our loot, the realization began to sink in. We had done the unthinkable. Just goes to prove ladies and gents, size may matter to your wives and/or hookers, but not out in space. Respect the T1. You know what they say. The bigger they are, the harder they fall.
Brutix Navy Kill
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