LOCATION: Somewhere in Heimatar

“Ok, I haven’t moved for 7 minutes now, you should be able to pick me up soon.” I tried to sound a little frustrated but not actually annoyed. We’d been at this for a while. “Ok, I have you on scan, commander.” That was good. I smiled to myself. These recruits were learning quickly. “Alright then, Mercedes. Narrow down the scanning constraints, and come to my exact location.” The comm channel double clicked in acknowledgement. They were new and eager, but I was still a little frustrated at how slow this was going.

—

“Alright ladies, settle down. Welcome to day one of Freeform Industries Basic Combat Flight Training, or as I like to call it, the school of Roc. ”

Even though it was mandatory training for all corp members interested in flying as part of Roc’s Renegades, I was surprised to see how much our pilot ranks had swelled in number. Some had flown engagements with me during the war, others had heard my name attached to some software I helped develop, and I am sure some had seen me on that blasted government commercial. Regardless, it was good for business.

“Today, we’re going to cover the most very basic items: scanning and not wetting your pants in combat.” This brought the few anticipated chuckles. “You might laugh now, ladies, but I’m dead serious.” I furrowed my brow and heavily stressed the next words. “Dead serious.” The laughter died.

—

“Sir, I’m having trouble finding you.” she stated after two more minutes had passed. Were this a real scenario, she would either be dead or her prey would’ve easily escaped long ago. “It’s just like what we covered in class today. Start with a 360 scan, then a 180. Those are the easy ones. Then look out your viewscreen. Aura will overlay grid markers for all the various entities and structures on your screen. So scan each of those within the confirmed arc.” Another double click.

It was a straightforward approach taught to me when I began, and now something I am passing on to others just budding in their careers:

1. open scanner, 360 degrees, max AU radius.
2. progressively narrow your search to 30 degrees using your viewscreen and cosmic markers for reference. The faster you can do this, the better.
3. While this won’t work for those hidden in “safespots”, it will help you target anyone not SSed pretty damn quick.

I’d give her another two minutes, then we’d move on. The rest of the class was waiting.

—

As the class packed up their notebooks and headed for the Freeform hangars, Director Cytral appeared just inside the door to the classroom. He patiently waited until every pilot had left before closing the door. “What is it?” I asked, already anxious to get into my Fleet Republic Cruiser, the Tribal Vengeance. It’s not that I didn’t like Cytral; in fact, the opposite was true. It was Cytral, and the person he is, that motivated me to join Freeform Industries in the first place; a smart decision as it turned out. 

“Got some intel is all.” he began. “You were taking them out to Dal, right?” I nodded. “Yeah, we have reports PIE traffic has been increasing there dramatically over the last 30 minutes. Just wanted to give you a heads up was all.” New recruits flew Rifters. They were a nice frigate; sleek, cheap to fit, and very effective when used properly. I still fly a Rifter often. Or it’s big brother the Jaguar. We use frigates to minimize life loss in the case of accidents; and because many pilots really haven’t the feel for the bigger ships this early on. It was just practical. However, if PIE was about, and Veshta, then a group of noob frigs might not be a good idea. Many of my pilots joked that I fly a fleet cruiser during basic frig training because it would be embarassing if I were to get popped by a green pilot. Maybe that’s true. It’s also true that I want to have some type of firepower available, and a trained crew to utilize it, should we encounter anyone who wishes to interrupt our training exercises. You can only be so safe. That is something these pilots would learn soon enough.

—

“Sir, I have you to 60 degrees. I should be with you .. WTF? Holy … !!!” An xxx appeared on my HUD.

—

“xxx in your HUD so that everyone knows you’re under attack and can come to assist you.”

—

“Malediction, Crow, Arbitra…” the comm went silent.

—

“If possible, identify what ships are attacking you, so your fleet knows what to expect. And when, not if, a distress call is signalled, allied ships should align to that fleet member immediately. Renegades don’t leave each other behind.”

—

It had happened. We had tarried too long in one spot. That was one of the first things I told them in class today:

—

1. Always be moving. Never sit still. A moving target is much harder to hit than a stationary one.
2. Always be aligned to something. I don’t care if you’re mining, ratting (a common term we use to describe working for freelance agents), or out sunbathing. Always have your ship aligned to something.
3. No comm chatter during an engagement. Listen for your Fleet Commander and do as ordered. No arguments, even if you disagree. Simply do.

—

“Aligning now. Warping fleet in 3…2…warping now.” Our small fleet of frigates entered warp. I could sense the anticipation in the new pilots. I remember how I was. Terrified really, my hands shaking with adrenaline at the thought of tangible engagement. It’s an exhilarating experience. Too often though, in the beginning, it’s over before you really register it had begun, and if you’re lucky, you’re warping away in your pod.

—

“Have multiple overviews setup on your HUD. While Aura is irreplaceable, you need to rely on yourself as well. If you’re close to losing your ship, switch to your Moons overview, pick a moon, and keep hammering the command to warp until your ship responds. Often in combat, a ship’s systems overload, and data will lag.”

—

The comm came alive. “I lost my rifter, commander. Warping to planet IV, moon 6 now.” Good girl. You got out alive. That’s better than I did in my first encounter. That’s better than I still do in some of my encounters. I pushed the conscious thought command for Aura to open the Tribal Liberation Force Intel Channel. “Colonel Roc Wieler, requesting intel on all gates surrounding ###### (system masked for security reasons). Engaging hostiles, need to know what traffic’s like around the system ASAP.”

—

“When your fleet is travelling, always have a scout in front and rear. Many fleets don’t opt for the rear scout, but in my experience that is costly. The only comm chatter should be your fleet commander, and those two scouts, unless otherwise designated by the fleet commander.”

—

The elongated light around us reverted back into normal space. Our enemy lay before us. “Alright Renegades, we’ve trained for this.” I barked.

—

“Know yourself before worrying about knowing your enemy. Know your ship; weapons range, deceleration speed, capacitor drain and recharge, everything. You need to know your ship as intimately as you would know a lover. Otherwise, you’ll betray her. Very rarely will our ships betray us.”

—

“Close to point range, watch your caps. Get on that Malediction. Squad One, talk to each other. Get that ship disabled now!”

—

“Check your voice system before you undock. Make sure everyone is clear, volumes are good, and you are speaking in the right channel. It is a MUST to be voice capable.”

“Have a common terminology. Point means webbifying to me. So when I ask ‘Who has point?’ you will know how to respond. Having terminology agreed upon beforehand will reduce confusion on the battlefield, and there is always confusion.”

—

I watched my Renegades quickly move into position. They could easily outflank the enemy if they kept their cool, and remembered everything I had forced them to learn about Rifters. Their formation was loose, but they were responding well to direction. Aura informed me that the Crow was moving to engage them at 5500 m/s. I had seen faster Crows, but it was fast enough to cause my Renegades genuine concern. I pushed my ship to fullspeed, 6400 m/s. I wondered if the enemy was expecting that.

As I descended upon the Crow it was clear its pilot had not considered me an immediate threat due to range. That would be the first and last mistake in our encounter. I quickly webbed and scrammed it, reducing its speed to 10% of what it was, nullifying the ability to warp away from our engagement. Barrage ammo was loaded, and I let loose with a full volley from my five 200 mm Autocannon II. The Crow pilot knew it was over. He/she knew they couldn’t run, and he/she had strayed too far from his/her wingmates. They would offer no support. Within ten seconds, the ship exploded. I was already turning to assist my fleet. Ordinarily, I would’ve taken the pod, and their life, but right now my priority was to not lose any lives of my green pilots.

—

“Always pod. While it’s possible your enemy is cloned insystem and will just be back with another ship, it’s more likely they are at least a few systems away, and won’t be back in time for the current engagement. Plus, it just feels good.” The pilot trainees laughed in unison.

—

I switched to the squad channel.

“I’m low on cap, need someone to take over webbing.”
“Roger that two, I’ve got web. Recharge now.”
“Whose on the Arbitrator? It’s tearing my shield to pieces!”
“We’ve got it into armour, five. Just hold rank and we’ll see this through.”

I smiled to myself as I hurtled through space to my fleet. They weren’t backing down. That is something you can’t teach. That’s something you either have, or you don’t. I quickly viewed my fleet HUD to see the overall status of my pilots. Most were well into armour. If we didn’t end this conflict soon, we were going to lose ships, and possibly lives. Most of these pilots had never even cloned before.

—

“While we are immortal as capsuleers, don’t treat that lightly. Cloning is not an easy process, and sometimes things do go wrong. It’s traumatic physically and mentally, despite what you may think. Your goal is the same as it was before you became a pod pilot; stay alive.

When you start flying larger ships, be considerate of the lives of your crew. They don’t have our gift. They are not an expendable piece of equipment.”

—

I locked both targets at maximum range, choosing the Malediction as my primary target. I yelled into fleet channel of my intentions, and quickly closed to optimal weapons range.

—

“Always have backup target callers; primary, secondary, tertiary. When one goes down, the next starts calling targets until either they’re all dead, or we are.”

—

The Malediction had been slowly losing its armour to the Rifters. While they were more maneuverable, they didn’t have the tanking nor firepower the Malediction boasted. My ship changed that dramatically, and after thirty seconds of concentrated fire, the Malediction fell.

There was whooping and hollering over the voice system. “Quiet down ladies! We’ve still got enemy out there!” I know the elation of surviving an encounter, of being the victor. There would be time enough later for celebration. Local channel showed one of my pilots trash talking the pilot we had just killed. I would have to reprimand that pilot when we were done here.

—

“There’s no need for trash talk. Destroying your enemy is trash talk enough. Don’t show your lack of experience or age by engaging in mindless banter.”

—

The Arbitrator tried to escape, seeing that alone it was no match for our coordinated effort. It didn’t escape, and we took its pilot as a bonus.

—

“Look to your left and your right. Every time you encounter an enemy, one of those two pilots beside you will die. Make sure it’s not your fault.”

—

We got very lucky. One cruiser, six frigates on training exercises, and we survived our first real encounter as a fleet without a single loss. The intel channel signalled me.

“No traffic spikes, Roc. Doesn’t look like any Amarr militia are around. Seen a few pirates, and a couple of pods heading out of system, figure that’s your doing. You need anything else?”

“We’re good, Megan, thanks for getting back to me so quickly.”

It was time to go home.

47 MINUTES LATER

I walked into the pilot co-ed locker room amidst an ad hoc celebration. They were half naked, half drunk, but fully pleased with themselves.

“Alright ladies listen up!” I bellowed, the echoes of the tiles reverberating my voice far more than I intended. It was a nice effect though. “We got very lucky today. Don’t think otherwise.” I let my words sink in to sober them up a little to the reality of the harsh life New Eden offers. “That could’ve gone very differently, and we could’ve lost ships and lives.” They were slowly becoming somber to my words, hanging their heads, looking at the floor, covering up with towels. 

“Nevertheless,” I smirked. “You kicked ass, Renegades. I’m damn proud of you.” I threw a crisp salute, which they all immediately reciprocated, then turn stiffly on one heel, and marched out the locker room door. 

“Roc! Roc! Roc!” was the chant behind me. 

We had accomplished far more than a victory in combat today. They were becoming a team. Well done, ladies.