Posted - 2008.10.08 03:00:00 - [1]

 

Edited by: Vikarion on 02/11/2008 19:45:47
Edited by: Vikarion on 08/10/2008 03:07:54
The titanic vessel approaches the gate, gleaming golden in the light from the system's primary, like a third sun in a binary system. Cold running lights run along port and starboard sides, simulating the ship's slow forward motion. Deep in the bowels of the fearsome warship, a human brain suspended in a nerveless skull, itself suspended in a wet, sealed grave, carefully nudges the ship into a station just off the mammoth star gate.

Closer to the outer hull, just behind the massive layers of armor clothing the Abaddon, gunnery officers bawl at their crews to ready massive capacitor arrays for action. Huge lens crystals many times larger than a man are moved into position from the cargo bays by conveyors, as the background whining of tesseract capacitors fills the air with a tooth-gritting hum. Sweating ensigns covered in non-conductive suits - scant protection against sizzling voltages humming through cables wider than a man's height - monitored panels of blinking lights as multiple-core processors try to cope with the barely restrained power coursing through the weapons systems.

On the hull, just under the painted skin, nanites flow through microscopic capillaries, hardening into resistant patches as the great warship prepares for battle. Deep in the depths of the engine rooms, antimatter annihilates itself with matter, surging power into full capacitor banks as shielding and force fields strain to contain forces stronger than those found in a star. Here the technicians wear garments lined with lead, supposedly protection against minor reactor leaks, as if such would not lead to a new and sudden star.

Moving closer to the vast structure of the gate, the battleship crouches like a lion at the entrance to a burrow, waiting to pounce. A thrill of nervous excitement runs through the crew, as electric as the sparks arcing off of the capacitor relays of the ship's laser batteries. Nearby, through meters of thick armor-glass, a companion ship can be seen, a Myrmidon-class battlecruiser orbited like some great atomic particle by several drones, its primary method of attack.

"Gate fire detected" echoes through the abbreviated command center of the ship, relaying events already known to the pod pilot to the crew responsible for minutia a podder cannot bothered with. "Target detected."

Deep in the pod, wearing the ship as his own body, the pilot of the Abaddon uses the arrays of radar as easily as his own eyes, searching for telltale signature of the enemy. There! De-cloaking off the starboard side, the enemy ship slips into existence, a giant vessel in its own right, pride of the Minmatar Navy, a Maelstrom-class battleship. Rows of massive artillery pieces line its side, primed and ready, as powerful shield generators pulse insistently across the length of the ship, a blue halo rimming the extremities of its thermal dispersion panels.

The benefit of pod piloting is immediately apparent to anyone who has seen a podder ship in action. Motions of command are fluid, actions instant, as long as the pod pilot is decisive. As he is here. Deep in the engine room, the temperature spikes as drives flare, engineers frantically moderating plasma and radiation levels to drive incomprehensible mass towards the enemy ship. The chief engineer, Ian Malizek, feels a surge of pride as he watches his crew master problems and difficulties that arise with ease. They are Caldari by birth, originally trained in the operation of Caldari ships, sleek beasts that slide through space like birds of prey. The Abaddon is an Amarr beast, a monstrosity, but the crew has mastered its handling almost instinctually. The engineering systems are refreshing - multiple redundancies and fail-safes built in as a matter of course, the only downside being the necessity for more personnel.