The Best Is Yet To Come - 12: When All’s Been Said And Done
04 Sep 2023CrazyGolm
When All’s Been Said And Done – September 3309There was a verdant little corner of Earth, an island wild and rural. Although it had become more urbanized in the space age, it still flourished with much greenery. Ecological conservation of the Blue Marble had been one of the upsides of the Federation’s strong mandates.
They called it the Emerald Isle.
CrazyGolm called it home.
“You did good, Golm.”
CrazyGolm, Clixer, and their dad stood by the coast, gazing out to the great Atlantic. Around them were green fields and farmland. Above them, sea birds squawked in the bright blue sky, and the warm rays of Sol shone overhead. For the first time in a while, Golm felt the gentle breeze of home on his face.
“Thank you, both of you. I couldn’t have done it alone.”
Golm turned to his dad, something still weighing on his mind.
“Dad... When they abducted me and tried to kill me, it wasn’t just that. They said I was in Pivot. I’m a genetically engineered super-pilot.”
His dad paused.
“I remember something. When you were born, the doctors said you were in fine health. Then one day, out of the blue, they claimed there were “complications”. They were very tight-lipped about it, but they said they needed to perform operations for a couple of days. Then nothing was ever said of it again.”
“But son, regardless of what they did to you, you’re still my son. And God loves you. Nothing can take that away.”
Golm looked down to his hands. He was holding something special. A freshly repaired, vibrant orange, opaque-visored, Remlok flight-suit helmet. He could’ve ordered a new one for free through the Pilot’s Federation, but he’d refused to leave Oswald Prison Colony without finding his old suit. The folks at Remlok had gone above and beyond and fixed it for him, no fee.
“What are you going to do now?” Clixer asked.
“I don’t know.” Golm said nonchalantly. “IDA are busy sifting through the procured computer system, and the data you recovered from the mainframe, so I’m free now. I could go exploring, maybe scan some plants, see the sights, but I’m not sure how long I could put up with that. There’s talk of a new Guardian site discovery, and apparently I missed some strange Thargoid encounters out in the black. I’ll figure something out. Might stick around home for a few days first.”
Lifting up his helmet, Golm placed it on his head, and motioned to their parked ships.
“Last one home makes dinner!”
--------
Infrastructure thumped his desk in rage.
The whole plan had been Personnel’s idea. He’d just wanted to play golf and watch the Bubble burn, but now because of her stupid plan failing, some smarty-pants Commander had them all on the back foot. And it was his troops who’d taken the fall in the field, not hers.
Infrastructure sighed in frustration.
He would need a new team.
And a new desk.
--------
Personnel frowned. If only they’d kept to paper files like she’d wanted to. The moment Infrastructure got involved, it had to be digital. That had let CrazyGolm delete all her intel on key figures. They’d had a backup, but of course it was connected to their system, and with whatever Golm had done, it had been deleted too. They were back to square one.
Society suggested framing CrazyGolm for a prison break in Lu Yupik. Get it all over Galnet, put a sizeable bounty on his head, and he wouldn’t be able to set foot in a civilized system again.
However, that came with many problems, the most obvious being the Agency. They wouldn’t fall for that lie. They had come through for Golm, they had secured Oswald Penal Colony, and worst of all, they had taken some of Infrastructure’s contingent - and data - into custody.
Golm had outplayed them before. What was to stop him from winning again?
Instead, Personnel suggested a subtler approach. Simply, disappear. Be as covert as possible to drop off Golm’s radar. Leave him with only cold trails. In the meantime, they could consider their options for espionage, to restore their intel and to keep him paranoid.
Then, when they were ready, they could strike again.
The one thing worse than an assassination attempt, is waiting for an assassination attempt.
--------
Across the field from Golm, as the trio ran laughing to their ships, a figure in a trench coat watched.
This Commander had stood up to the Club, survived his own execution, and put a solid dent in their malicious plans.
His organization was impressed.
Perhaps a suitable test of skill should be administered. Or perhaps they should wait and see.
Either way, CrazyGolm should be proud of himself. The galaxy needed more people like him.
“Well done, Commander,” the mysterious stranger muttered under his breath, a smile on his face.
“Now, to the jewel that burns...”