Personal Log 27.11.08 // What Have We Done?
28 Nov 2022Gaz Ubermick
+// Log Entry Start+// [Date: 27.11.3308]
+// [Location: Independent Carrier Fortune’s Pawn, Aditjana]
Shit. Where do I begin?
Let's see... I’d finished my work in Iah Bulu without issue. Fergus had offered me a handy payday, but in the end I was happy with a few pints with him at the station bar in Poindexter Hub. His Iah Bulu League has been getting a kicking, and he needed every credit he had to his name. To be honest the fact that I was flatlining Fednecks was payment enough after what they did to us in Lugh - and managed to loot a fair whack of high grade materials while I was at it.
The beers were horrible, but the company great. Remembering our time as kids, running amok on Hartsfield. Trips to Tír na Lugh as students for holidays. Smuggling Onionhead in our dodgy Sideys for a few credits, fresh out of the Pilot’s Academy. Before the war, before everything burned. I hadn’t laughed that much in months, and it felt like a weight was lifting from my soul.
And then the news started coming in from the Kingfisher.
I mean, what did we expect? We’ve spent two wars trying to eradicate a species whose technological advances make us look like cavemen. We took a decorated war hero, a damned shining symbol of humanity, loaded him up with a bioweapon, and tried to commit genocide. Oh, and then murdered him while trying to cover it up. A century and a half later we enabled a psychopathic nutjob with everything he asked for who tried to unleash another weapon of mass destruction.
Did humanity really think plopping a ship in the path of one of those inbound monsters in an effort to say “Oops, sorry about that!” was going to do anything? We call them bugs, but the reality is that they’re the ones who look at us like insects. For all our arrogance in thinking we’re superior at being able to occasionally tackle them one on one, we’re nothing to them. Nothing.
What have we done?
As soon as the feed ended, the bar emptied. Fergus said a quick prayer to Lámhfhada and to my surprise I joined in. I hadn’t followed the old ways since I was a kid, but in these times… Said our goodbyes and joined the other panicking commanders headed for their ships. Took five minutes to get off the pad and a cheeky loitering fine, but that’s a worry for another time. I buzzed the Pawn and was about to have Cameron jump her out of the bubble to safety while I headed for the Kingisher’s system to see what I could do to help, before a transmission came in from Kalous.
Seems a local upstart Imperial faction had invaded one of the Emporium’s systems. Hundreds of innocents dead, and they could use all the guns they could get to fight them off. An alien war machine had decimated a megaship without even breaking stride and had deposited a fleet of Thargoid interceptors and Scouts in the system, but nah... petty infighting and squabbling over territory takes priority. With survival on the line, lines on a star chart were more important.
Sigh.
Got in touch with Zero and called in a favour from the
I’m sitting here now in my cabin, wondering what to do now. We all are, and the crew of the Pawn are looking to me for answers. Twelve crewmen have already requested I jump to their home systems to pick up their families. The wonks at Cannon are saying we have maybe 48 hours before the first inhabited system is hit - Lámhfhada help them - so I’ve given them leave to fly and bring back whoever they need. Cameron will find them berths, we’ll make do. We look after our own.
Whoever’s reading this right now… hug your loved ones. Keep them close. Keep them safe, and pray to whatever deity floats your boat. Humanity will never be the same again.
What have we done?
+// Log Entry Ends