Our Man Dagan
Genesis region — Ekrin constellation
Sosh System — Mission location
22 October YC 127
As I was closing in on Dagan, I expected to be hit at any moment. The distance to the Gnosis counted down to 50 kilometres, then 40… 30… but the attack didn’t come. I tensed as we approached my falloff range, preparing to open fire. A split second after we crossed the 19-km threshold I started shooting, and at the same moment Kaukokärki shuddered.
“We are taking damage, Cap,” Aura informed me tonelessly.
Oh yeah, I felt it. The ship sensors passed information about hits directly into my brain as tactile sensations, and I knew straight away that Dagan was using a hybrid weapon — only railguns and blasters produced that peculiar combination of a burn and a punch. I checked the damage log and noticed that the charge glanced off my shield. It was a good sign — although I was still flying at a sharp angle to the Gnosis’s bearing, it already had trouble tracking my ship. The situation would only improve when I started orbiting the battlecruiser.
For the next minute or so, I just watched the unfolding battle. My eyes flickered between my damage indicator, the capacitor level and Dagan’s damage. My shield damage was growing steadily as I didn’t have any shield repair modules and could only hope that I had enough buffer for the fight. On the other hand, Dagan’s turrets had really hard time tracking me and missed me half the time. And when the charges reached me, they only grazed my shield and caused minimal harm.
The situation with Dagan was reverse — my 150-mm railguns dealt direct, penetrating hits. The Gnosis kept restoring the shield and the red arc around its icon was jumping back and forth. However, after each hit, it moved forth just a bit further than it moved back.
“Cap, we are winning!” said Aura, sounding excited.
“It looks like that,” I admitted cautiously, “but I don’t understand why. Specifically, I don’t understand why Dagan installed small railguns on a battlecruiser.”
“Why do you think they are small?”
I snorted, “Look at how they operate. Firstly, their falloff range is the same as ours. If he had a medium railgun, he would be able to reach us at 30 klicks at the very least. Secondly, the damage from the hits is miserable. Even a glancing blow from a medium rail should deliver more than 20 hit points’ worth of damage. And finally, look at his firing rate; it is actually higher than ours — for each 9 volleys we fire he sends 11 volleys back. This is simply impossible to achieve with medium-size weapons.”
“Hmm… Then why do his turrets have trouble tracking us? It shouldn’t be a problem for small rails.”
“It’s a good point. To be honest, I don’t know. My only explanation is that orbiting at 10 klicks with an activated microwarpdrive gives us such an angular speed that you need capsuleer-level skills to track the target effectively even with a small railgun.”
“Erm… Captain, talking about microwarpdrive, we are running out of cap.”
“Oh shit! Brace for the impact!” I exclaimed and turned off the MWD.
It wasn’t that I expected the ship to decelerate so hard that it felt like a crash but our slower angular speed would surely lead to an increased hit rate from Dagan’s fire. But you know what? It didn’t. Or there wasn’t enough time to notice the difference. By the time I switched off the microwarpdrive, Gnosis’s damage went halfway into the armour. Mine was only 40% in the shield.
Two minutes into the battle I had to reload my railguns while Dagan still kept firing.
“Damn!” I cursed. “How many charges does he have in one load?”
Dagan had fired four volleys during my reload and, ironically, every one of them missed. He managed to repair a portion of his shield but it didn’t matter — the fate of the Gnosis was sealed. Soon, my Javelin charges stripped the battlecruiser of the last armour plates and started making holes in its hull. Geysers of air sprang from the breaches. They soon were replaced with smoke as exposed internal modules caught fire.
The battlecruiser was tough and, compared to my other battles, it felt like I spent an hour hammering it. When it finally exploded, I checked the combat log and found that the fight lasted only three minutes.
I looked at the expanding cloud of debris and a dizzying feeling of emptiness came over me. It was over. My 18-month-long crusade came to an end. The duty that had driven me all that time was finally discharged. There was nothing left to do. I held my breath as I savoured the moment.
“Um… Cap,” I heard Aura’s voice. “We need to pick up Dagan’s pod before he escapes.”
It was as though a bucket of ice-cold water was thrown in my face.
“What?! Where?!” I snapped out of my reverie as the reality caught up with me.
Aura pointed at an object on the Overview window. It was an escape pod ejected from the Gnosis during the explosion. Unlike mine, it was not equipped with a warp drive but it had a regular jet engine. While I stared at the screen, Dagan fired up its jets and headed towards the station.
“No, no, no,” I muttered, “it can’t be happening.”
I could not let Dagan escape. Involuntarily, I clenched my jaw and started targeting the pod.
“Cap, what are you doing?” Aura asked in alarm. “Our mission is to capture him.”
I paused. She was right. I was so intent on defeating Dagan that I was ready to destroy his unarmed lifeboat which was against the law. I took a deep shuddering breath and released the target lock.
It didn’t take us long to catch up with the pod and scoop it into the cargo hold. I pointed one of the CCTV cameras at the pod’s viewport and saw Dagan’s face. He was staring into the camera as if he could see me through it too. The silence stretched. Maybe I should have addressed him but I couldn’t think of anything to say. Everything was clear for both of us, the situation needed no comment.
After a long moment, I looked away from the screen and told Aura in a hoarse voice, “Keep an eye on him, will you?”
“Wilco, Captain,” Aura replied gravely.
I aligned Kaukokärki to Adani Yusev’s Raven and warped to its location.