In other news, we packed our tachyon paingivers today and went to town. As I got there, Eric Knox and a Hellfire wing found themselves in the middle of a pig farm at Planet Bruin. Some were so fat that they couldn't manage their inertia and one of them burned up in atmo as it tried to track me when I turned. Sharp. Witted. Not.
Pop went the bunnygoat.
This one hugged the station. Resistance was futile.
There was a bunch of others whose ships we chopped up pretty bad. Gunboats, fighters, bombers, cattlebruisers, you name it. I was surprised that there was some furry-balled Zoner who dared stick his nose 1.5K into the fight and was all chatty when I asked him to get distance.
Especially when my primary target is a warm bed and I could care less about collateral damage.
(Yeah, that was some kiddo in a CSV.)
You make shield drain,
I drain your brain.
Then it was just a final flight back home.
With some close Xeno encounters of the third kind along the way.
And I was glad that the door lock wasn't jammed when I got there.