I would like to share this as an example of interesting, provoking, and unexpected game play in the PU. A big thanks to Devar for his assistance, and whoever my nemesis is... well played! I'd like to know your version of events. This is how "I" saw it. (forgive my "in character" narration.) This anecdote, told from the perspective of Lt. Commander Logan Vos, UEEN (inactive), is based in actual in-game events which transpired in the PTU. I was so reminded of a typical ‘horror - survival’ film plot, I was inspired to share it. The majority of the game was recorded with Nvidia software, but is just me faffing about in EVA. the mind games aspect really made it unique, though. It had seemed a typical assignment for the Stanton system. A starfarer was known to have come to grief near Delemar, but the whereabouts of a particular crew member needed clarification for the relatives. I was offered 400 UEC to explore the wreckage myself and try to locate the Navigator. Crusader Industries security personnel had seemed stretched keeping the peace in Stanton, so I wasn’t surprised a full recovery operation hadn’t been undertaken as yet. I didn’t need the money. I had the privilege of owning numerous personal starships and received a stipend from the Navy - being awarded the Star of Liberty had perks. I was doing the job to keep busy, and not let my skills get rusty. There were plenty of smugglers and bandits in the system, some of whom had a bounty on their heads. I’d killed enough men, and God knows how many Vanduul in my time in a cockpit, that vaporising a faceless pilot on the wrong end of a crime-sheet for fifty creds didn’t unduly bother me. A lot of them didn’t show mercy to their targets, such as the unfortunate Starfarer in question... So I figured they had it coming. The coordinates I was given took me out to Delemar, one of Crusader’s moons, and an inhospitable rock, it seemed to me. A rocky, cold and dark place with as many ship graveyards and mummified corpses as there were emergency shelters and hopeful mining claims. As soon as I emerged from Quantum Travel, I triggered an active sensor pulse. Even from 13 klicks out, I could see activity; the flowing blue engine trails from two small vessels. They were circling the Starfarer wreckage, and it didn’t take long for my ship’s computer to determine that they were hostile. Two Gladius light fighters, their hulls painted the crimson popular with the local criminal syndicate, turned to engage me. I cursed softly. I piloting an F7C-M Hornet, the best combat version of the civilian Hornets, while my Sabre was having one of it’s fusion reactors swapped out. Trouble was, I wasn’t that fond of fighting nimbler opponents in a Hornet. Every pilot comes to like and dislike the quirks of craft they fly often, and while a Hornet was well enough armed and armoured to acquit itself well in most fights, my former squadron had won the Navy’s Charlies Jaeger trophy flying Gladius’. I didn’t underestimate them. We closed to gun range and engaged each other. My quad ‘badger’ repeater load out was decent, but had a large power draw, and my power core couldn’t cope with the drain of heavy weapons use and heavy boosting. My dual gatlings didn’t need as much juice, but dammit! -I couldn’t get them on target long enough for the stream of projectiles to bite deep. These two were good, and adept at working together. And then I made a rookie error... I allowed my attention to remain too long on one of the pirates, while the other found a home on my tail. My Hornet shuddered, and screens flashed insistently. I glanced down and saw with shock that the rear half of my fighter was missing. I kept at it a minute more, hoping that the extreme loss of mass might actually prove a benefit against the more nimble Gladius light fighters, but quickly cast that folly aside. “Contacts”, the ship’s voice grated, and two more signatures appeared close by. They had to be here for the wreck. It wasn’t uncommon for more than one professional to be hired to do the same, or similar job. More often than not, however, a lack of trust, or competition for the pay-off meant the parties wouldn’t play nice. I wasn’t about to abandon my mission, however... I boosted away from my opponents as if running, and they hesitated to follow, moving towards the new threat. Then I swung about, headed for the wreck site hard and fast, killing my speed and power as quickly as possible as the hulk of the Starfarer loomed before me. Pieces of metal clanged against the Hornet’s hull as I came to a halt in the dark shadow of the fuel hauler’s main body, and cut all power and popped the canopy with haste. I kicked off and propelled myself into vacuum, pushing clear of my ship and into the cover of a large piece of debris. Looking back, my ship looked like part of the wreck. Both tail booms and rear stabiliser were gone. I dared to hope the Gladius pilots, or whoever else was out there, would overlook it. Who would think that pile of carbon scored junk was flyable? *