Howdy!
I'm new here, and thought I would introduce myself through a humorous story.
I was flying a standard diamond patrol in a Scimitar (WC1). The last patrol I flew I was forced to eject, and while recieved the golden-sun for ejecting and surviving, Colonel Haylcon gave me a stern warning not to eject again without a good reason. My problem was the fact that I was flying in a ship armored like a tank, and, being a rookie, I figured, "With armor like this, who needs maneuverability or speed? I'm death on thrusters!" Well, I hit the first nav point and shot down the Kilirathi patrol with ease, but when I hit the second point, my wingman and I encountered a second patrol with three Dralthi. I ordered my wingman to break and attack, he ran off after one of the Dralthi, and the afterburners screamed as I chase after the second. The third cat swings around me as I blow my target to bits and nlasts my port shields. When I turn to fire at him, he clips my wing, knocking out my repair systems. Well I get behind him and blast him out of the sky. My wingman has already blown his own target away, and we continue with our mission. We hit the third nav point, and we encounter four fighters. My wingmen and I take them on, and during the course of this firefight, one cat gets a lock on me and fires a missle. I try to out run the missle, but it finds it's way to my engine exhaust ports. The hit knock out my engines and somehow, and I'm not sure how, my ship doesn't explode. Well, with my engines out of comision, but determined not to end my mission in failure (and not wanting to be chewed out by the Colonel), I continue the battle, using my afterburners (which wern't damaged at all, somehow) for propulsion. My wingman and I bag two cats each, we fly home. I make it to the Tiger's Claw, request clearence for landing, and tap the afterburners lightly, not wanting to crash into my home carrier. I think of my mission preformance, and can't help feeling like the pilot's pilot, taking on four kitties with my sevearly crippled ship, and winning! I am proud. I am cocky. I think to myself "I am all that is man!" Then the worst happens... my ship stops. It doesn't drift a little into the bay, it stops. About a thousand klicks from my base, it stops. I can't move, I AM OUT OF GAS! I can't move on engine-power, my engines are nearly destroyed, and I can't repair my engines, my repair system needs to be repaired! I am dead in space! After my self-expression of my anger, I eject out of my crippled fighter, and it naturally explodes. When I get taken aboard, I get chewed out by the Colonel, and after my rather humbling experiance, I decided that "From now on, if I'm going to fly anything, I should fly somthing that can out-fly a @~$*!!! missle!"
I'm new here, and thought I would introduce myself through a humorous story.
I was flying a standard diamond patrol in a Scimitar (WC1). The last patrol I flew I was forced to eject, and while recieved the golden-sun for ejecting and surviving, Colonel Haylcon gave me a stern warning not to eject again without a good reason. My problem was the fact that I was flying in a ship armored like a tank, and, being a rookie, I figured, "With armor like this, who needs maneuverability or speed? I'm death on thrusters!" Well, I hit the first nav point and shot down the Kilirathi patrol with ease, but when I hit the second point, my wingman and I encountered a second patrol with three Dralthi. I ordered my wingman to break and attack, he ran off after one of the Dralthi, and the afterburners screamed as I chase after the second. The third cat swings around me as I blow my target to bits and nlasts my port shields. When I turn to fire at him, he clips my wing, knocking out my repair systems. Well I get behind him and blast him out of the sky. My wingman has already blown his own target away, and we continue with our mission. We hit the third nav point, and we encounter four fighters. My wingmen and I take them on, and during the course of this firefight, one cat gets a lock on me and fires a missle. I try to out run the missle, but it finds it's way to my engine exhaust ports. The hit knock out my engines and somehow, and I'm not sure how, my ship doesn't explode. Well, with my engines out of comision, but determined not to end my mission in failure (and not wanting to be chewed out by the Colonel), I continue the battle, using my afterburners (which wern't damaged at all, somehow) for propulsion. My wingman and I bag two cats each, we fly home. I make it to the Tiger's Claw, request clearence for landing, and tap the afterburners lightly, not wanting to crash into my home carrier. I think of my mission preformance, and can't help feeling like the pilot's pilot, taking on four kitties with my sevearly crippled ship, and winning! I am proud. I am cocky. I think to myself "I am all that is man!" Then the worst happens... my ship stops. It doesn't drift a little into the bay, it stops. About a thousand klicks from my base, it stops. I can't move, I AM OUT OF GAS! I can't move on engine-power, my engines are nearly destroyed, and I can't repair my engines, my repair system needs to be repaired! I am dead in space! After my self-expression of my anger, I eject out of my crippled fighter, and it naturally explodes. When I get taken aboard, I get chewed out by the Colonel, and after my rather humbling experiance, I decided that "From now on, if I'm going to fly anything, I should fly somthing that can out-fly a @~$*!!! missle!"