Elite A Man To Space Game, But You Can't Make Him A Commander

So, I’m kind of obsessed with Space Game. I can’t get enough of it.  Sure, some people might refer to it as Elite: Dangerous, but it’s Space Game to us. 

I didn’t get it in Early Access or pre-order or anything.  In fact, I didn’t even buy the game until some time last year.  It actually didn’t take me long to get right into it.  I bounced off Eve Online the first few times I tried it, and it took me many attempts plus watching tutorial events to grasp Crusader Kings 2.  Heck, I never even scratched the surface of X3: Reunion.  But I immediately took to Space Game. 

I played the dickens out of it for a few months, and then Max was born.  It wasn’t until recently that I was able to start playing again, and holy smokes, do I love it.  I bought the Horizons expansion, so I can now do Engineering stuff and planetary landings.  But for the most part, I just tool around the galaxy, running data delivery missions and hunting pirates.

Right now, I’m flying a heavily modified Cobra Mk.III.  I call her the Valdosta II, in honor of the old live action Space Game that Haley wrote.  I bought that one because it seems like a good multi-role craft, adept at combat and exploration, with a moderate cargo bay.  I don’t do a lot of trading or cargo run, so I don’t really need a lot of cargo space.  And I figure if I end up wanting to become a trader, I can just save up and buy a hauler or something.  As it is, as I run missions, if I get interdicted by an NPC, I have the maneuverability and firepower to be able to hold my own.  Plus, with the modifications I’ve made, like better shields, hull, and engines, I don’t have a lot of problems in combat.

The exception, of course, is last night where I ended up tangling with multiple Asps and Cutters with Deadly combat ratings.  Got my butt kicked and lost a lot of bounty vouchers that I was saving.  I believe I lost a lot of cartographic data, as well. 

I probably need to upgrade my pulse laser or switch to beam weapons.  I’ve been having trouble getting through some of the more powerful shields.  On my old Sidewinders, I’d take down enemy shields with lasers, then chew up their hull with autocannons.  I haven’t done that setup on my Cobra, yet.  I think I’d rather have some more powerful autocannons than 2G rating. 

But, I love the bloody game.  I’m not Elite rated in any category, barely past Novice in Combat and Scout in Exploration, but I’ve enjoyed every second of it.  I love flying around the galaxy, chilling in my space ship, visiting planets and stations, and blowing up bad dudes.  And there’s so much more I could do.  I could do smuggling, passenger transport, piracy, trading, mining, or even galactic politics.  But, for now, I’m content being my own dude, carving out a tiny little chunk in a vast galaxy. 

I would kill for VR, though.

What Happens When You Play Too Much Elite

I’d finally saved up enough money to buy one of those fancy new SRV everyone was suddenly going mad for.  Of course, the fact that I bought one nearly a year after every pilot and their brother snatched one up was about par for the course with me.  No big deal.  I always kind of did things at my own pace. 

But, at last, I plopped down the credits and the boys in the outfitting bay fitted a planetary vehicle hangar into the Valdosta II and then I purchased my first SRV. Of course, it wasn’t one of the top of the line Surface Recon Vehicles.  It was just the base, cheapest variety available.  But even that took a hefty bite out of my credit pool.

Even still, I was pretty stoked to take that thing out for a spin.  I mean, you spend days, weeks, months, in the cold heat of space, and you start to crave something different.  Some rocks and valleys and dirt instead of the impersonal black.  So, to that end, I found myself a nice little planet with a couple of landing docks and nosed V2 into the atmosphere. 

It was strange, at first, feeling that buffeting and rocking that accompanied atmospheric entry.  It had been a long time since the stick fought me.  After a few moments, though, I regained control and let the old girl sail deeper into the planet’s well.  Finally, we broke through the atmosphere and entered a smooth glide, flying over the rocky surface of the planet at about 2500km/sec.  It was actually kind of a thrill.  Sort of like flying the way the ancient aero pioneers did. 

In atmosphere, a Cobra isn’t the most aerodynamic vehicle, so it took some doing, but I was finally able to coax her into an acceptable landing, and the port’s docking arms secured my ship and lowered us into the hangar.  Landfall at last!

I climbed down my ship’s interior ladder, feeling the unfamiliar tug of planetary gravity.  I laid my palm on the security panel of the SRV.  It recognized my heartbeat and sweat acidity, went green, and opened up. 

I slid into the seat of the SRV.

It was smaller than the Valdosta, with the driver’s seat surrounded on three sides by a plexi bubble, so I had a bit of a greater field of view than in the Val.  But it was cozy, and it belonged to me.

Of course, the first thing I did in the blasted thing was crash into a rock and flip it over, shredding hull and throwing me around like a raisin in a tin. Well, that’s not entirely true.  The first thing I did was trigger the SRV cannons in a no-fire zone, netting me a cool 100cr fine.  I paid that off, then drove my SRV into a rock and flipped it.

It’s a good life.