Sitting In a Tin Can
09 Aug 2022Lily Flemmon
CW: Brief gore, implicit NSFW themesI have been made aware of evidence potentially suggesting that the Proteus Wave will not only destroy Thargoid life, but all life. I don’t know what I would do if I weren’t all the way out here. I’m on vacation. Things go to shit when I’m on vacation. Maybe if I were in range, I’d see how many magazines I could empty into Azimuth’s pale horse. Just to see if I could kill its rider, Caleb Wycherley…
Or does he deserve to die so simply?
Silas Flemmon died with 30 of my rounds to his head. An icy, misty red paste from his neck to the rear cockpit wall. For Wycherley, it may be less personal to me, but I think it’s still important to make him realize something fundamental about his life, his identity… And deny him the satisfaction of resolving the existential panic. Bring him to the maddening brink of an epiphany, and then kill him.
Fantasizing is a coping mechanism of mine. But to force-feed him the key to his redemption, his recovery, and then kill him right as he realizes how terrible he is, that would be wonderful. And as for what that key is, I have a few theories.
First theory: Incel.
Short for “involuntary celibate,” this misogynistic mindset saw a flare-up in the late World War interim period as women approached equal social status as men. Many men became frustrated that they could no longer treat women as inferior, and curiously created an inferiority complex of their own, blaming women and their desire for equal rights, alongside theoretical idealized men, “alphas,” for their lack of sexual opportunities.
This phenomenon also had a resurgence in the late post-WW3 reconstruction era, and in the Federation, was still very prevalent in the 31st century.
In Caleb Wycherley’s case, the “alphas” take an interesting form: what likely started as a fixation on idealized men evolved into a fixation on corporate opposition, and after his encounter with the live Thargoid specimen, he began fixating his vendetta on Thargoids themselves. Thus, the idea that Caleb Wycherley hates Thargoids because he thinks they’re stealing all his potential sexual partners is far from impossible. Improbable, perhaps, but not to be ruled out entirely.
Second theory: There’s no prejudice and hatred like self-denial.
This is the possibility that Wycherley began as a xeno-ally at a young age, but cultural and family influence led him to believe that it was taboo, which would cause him to suppress those aspects of his identity.
If this sounds like the self-denial form of queerphobia, that’s because… well, it is.
If you’ve been on adult art content sections of Galnet recently, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Everything ranging from dramatized Interceptor “frisking” (scanning) of a ship or a pilot ejected from their ship, to a humanoid form of Thargoid biology fully consummating with a human. The biological temperature difference between humans and Thargoids gives new meaning to the term “thermal protection,” thanks to the often-present incredible attention to detail in these works.
So yeah, the second idea is that Salvation is a monsterf*cker in denial.
These ideas may seem far-flung, and they are, but Caleb Wycherley’s mental health is equally far from sane and stable.
We’ll see how the Proteus activation goes. My advice? Assume, for safety, that it has the same effects on human anatomy as it does on Thargoid anatomy. Stay far away tomorrow. Get intel on what happens, and make your decisions accordingly. For once in your life, don’t fly dangerous. Let’s trade that audacity for something a little more reasonable, yeah?
As for me, I’m stuck in a tin can. Nothing I can do. It’d be fun to test my theories at least. Make a 200-year-old mass murderer and war criminal squirm with pleasure and existential crisis at the same time? Sounds fun. Sort of. I don’t know.
Just, all of you except Caleb Wycherley- try not to die because of someone else’s vendetta. Not a good way to go.
-Lily
P.S. Professor Antino of NLAU, please don’t rescind your offer of a degree- this isn’t an academic publication and should probably just go to my therapist, but, you know… I’m kinda stuck out in Vulcan’s Gate still, and need a little fun. You’re a wonderful director of the anthropology department and I’ll bring you a Garden Steak with the zesty seasoning. Please?