Terran Dawn: Epilogue
17 Aug 2018Damian "Devil" Blaide
May 29th 3304. Orsini Mining Platform, BD+47 2112Damian Blaide, dressed in simple black military fatigues, sat cross-legged on the floor of his spartan quarters with his arms resting against his knees. His eyes were half-closed and in the near-darkness of the unlit room, his cybernetic eye glimmered faintly red. His synthetic left arm twitched ever-so-slightly as the nerve bundles of the man-machine interface struggled to maintain control of the artificial appendage. Each twitch sent a jolt of pain across his shoulder, into his chest and from there up along his neck to his face. But Blaide remained still and unflinching in his meditative trance. He was not trying to block the pain away – he was focusing on it. In his head, he was attached from his body, watching himself. Lecturing.
“Pain is a reminder.” He said to himself in his meditative vision “Fools would tell you to focus on the positive, to push back the darkness. They would have you become weak. It is our failures, our defeats, our humiliations and our pains that serve to remind us of our shortcomings. Of the lessons we must remember to become strong. Only by heeding and embracing these lessons do we rise above our frailties to walk as giants among the stars.” He smiled “Pain is a reminder of the lesson you must always remember.”
A different time. A different place. A red Fer-de-Lance enters an asteroid field. On the sides of the ship gleam the silver delta -insignias of the mighty mercenary company who rules this part of space. Untouchable, undefeated, countless battles, countless victories. The pilot of the Fer-de-Lance is a warlord of the company, he knows he has nothing to fear. Not here, not now, not ever.
Betrayal.
Sudden flashes appear all around him. Another Fer-de-Lance appears with a dozen heavily armed ships – some pirate, some mercenary. The ship is piloted by a friend with the same silver deltas on his wings. He opens fire. Pain is the result.
A loud ping of his room comms woke Blaide back into the present and his eyes snapped open. Taking a moment to remember where he was, he rose to his feet and walked to his desk.
“General.” Blaide nodded as he sat down and greeted the caller – John “Crashbx” Kelbor. “How can I help you?”
“Where are you?” The general asked curtly.
“In Orsini. I decided to relocate the headquarters of the 315th here, it’s less trafficked than Azeban.”
Kelbor nodded “Sounds reasonable. You’ll run your squadron as you see fit.” He paused for a moment glancing to the side in thought, then turned back to the screen “I am sorry to disturb your rest. After our victory in LP, we all could have used some. But I just received word from a representative of the Alliance Elite Diplomatic Corps.”
Blaide raised an eyebrow. When he had worn the silver deltas, the company had had some dealings with the AEDC. Not very pleasant ones, but a war was avoided then. If only barely. In the Hydrae Sector, where the company ruled, only AEDC matched them in power.
“And what did they have to say?” Blaide inquired.
“Alliance is about to lose Lave.” Kelbor said darkly.
Blaide sat back. Lave. A legendary Old World and second only to Alioth in importance for the Alliance of Independent Systems. Blaide himself was not a follower of an ideology of any superpower and his association with the Alliance was only due to his extended contract with TCF, but he knew this was unacceptable. This could go only one way.
“What happened?” He asked.
“The media company Lave Radio Network has forced an election in the system. Reports are abounding that Alliance citizens are not allowed to vote or that they’re being attacked or even disappearing. Mercenaries and ‘freedom fighters’ wearing the colours of the LRN rule the system now and Alliance citizens are free game.” Kelbor breathed in and then exhaled “Lave is entering into another period of tyranny it seems.”
“What is our stand in this?” Blaide asked, though he knew the answer.
Kelbor was silent for a moment, a tired look in his eyes, and finally spoke the words Blaide knew were coming.
“We go to war.”
…
One war ends. Another begins. This is the way of the shadows.