Witch-Space Horrors
01 Dec 2024Oxforth
Commander Oxforth - Sunday, December 1, 3310 Location: V886 Centauri
Vessel: Krait Mk II - [SOLAR VALKYRIE]
Fleet Carrier: [Q2K-37G] GalVik - INNHERRED
Mission Overview: Sol System Evacuation
Commander's Log:
I never thought I’d see the day humanity’s birthplace teetered on the edge of annihilation. The Sol system, the cradle of everything we know, is now a theater of desperation. Participating in its evacuation feels like standing in a burning library, clutching as many priceless tomes as you can carry while knowing others will be lost to the flames.
Haunted doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling of ferrying people from Earth, Mars, and the stations that orbit them. Families clutch one another tightly, and their fear is palpable. They don’t know me, but they trust me with their lives. It’s a heavy responsibility—one I feel with every desperate scream, every wail of a child, every whispered prayer I catch through the comms.
The Thargoids make sure we feel their malice. Several times now, I’ve been torn out of witch-space during hyperspace jumps, the roiling tunnel of starspecked nebulae collapsing into chaos as their terrifying vessels surround me. Their ships aren’t just machines—they’re predators. Each time, my trusty Solar Valkyrie has saved me. She roars like a mythic beast, her engines screaming defiance as I hit the boost and surge forward. It’s not just speed—it’s fury, the kind that shakes your bones and burns in your chest. She gulps down fuel, takes a breath to replenish her engines, and roars again.
In those moments, time slows. My hands blur across the controls, muscle memory taking over. I don’t think about the passengers—some injured, most terrified—in the cabins behind me. I can’t. My focus is solely on keeping them alive. The frameshift drive cools, the spinning hum builds, and with a final surge of power, the ship leaps to freedom.
The relief when we emerge into V886 Centauri is indescribable. There’s a collective sigh throughout the ship, as if everyone has been holding their breath since departure. Landing on the Rescue Ship *Cornwallis,* I finally feel the tension drain from my shoulders. The passengers disembark quickly, their gratitude a flicker of light against the shadow that hangs over us all.
But I know this moment of peace is fleeting. I barely have time to refuel and rearm before it’s back into the fray. Every trip feels like a battle against inevitability, but I can’t stop—not while there are lives to save.
For humanity, I tell myself. For Sol.
AD ASTRA
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An Addendum of Absurdity:
As I disembarked passengers at Rescue Ship Cornwallis, my thoughts couldn’t help but churn in disbelief. Sol, the cradle of humanity, teeters on the brink of devastation. Titans and Thargoid fleets approach, and yet here, in V886 Centauri, there are tourists. Cruise ships, their decks teeming with sightseers, hover blithely near the evacuation efforts as though they were witnessing a historical reenactment rather than a fight for survival.
It is surreal. Absurd. An insult to every commander risking their ship, their sanity, and their lives to ferry the desperate to safety. While we dodge Thargoid interdictions, endure the harrowing screams of passengers in danger, and shoulder the weight of humanity’s preservation, some find time to sightsee. The mind reels.
And then came the warnings. Hostile ships—pirates and petty opportunists—hunting for my passengers. Their squabble is no doubt with a handful of my evacuees, but their threats blanket everyone aboard. Their greed, their gall in times like these, is almost enough to make me abandon the Solar Valkyrie here and now, swap into Kraken, and patrol this system with the vengeance of a storm.
The thought of unleashing overwhelming firepower against such insolence is tempting. They dare disrupt a humanitarian mission at the edge of calamity? In any other scenario, I would gladly meet them with railguns and plasma fire. But I know where my efforts are most needed. Every jump I make, every passenger I deliver, saves lives. I can out-fly scum like them—always have, always will. My Krait roars with defiance, and its speed ensures they’ll never catch me.
Still, the rage simmers beneath my resolve. The hypocrisy, the selfishness, and the sheer audacity of these times weigh heavy. But this isn’t about vengeance. It’s about humanity. For now, my focus remains steadfast on the evacuation. But one day, when the cradle is safe, I’ll revisit the idea of justice.
Until then, I fly. For humanity. For honor. Skål.
Addendum 2: Enter: Hraesvelgr
The Solar Valkyrie has served me well, but it feels inadequate. The Krait’s speed and agility are nigh unmatched, but it lacks the space to carry enough passengers or pods for the injured. With each jump, I’m painfully aware of how many more lives I could save if I had the capacity. It’s like trying to empty a lake with a spoon—every trip matters, but the scope of the task demands more.
So, I made a decision. I purchased another Imperial Cutter. There’s an irony to it, I know. An Imperial vessel, one of wealth and excess, repurposed to aid the Federation—two powers rarely on the best of terms. But this isn’t about politics; it’s about humanity. When it comes to survival, the stars don’t care for our borders or our pride.
I know the Cutter well. My trusty Trollvom has been my companion through countless missions, its resilience and power a testament to Imperial engineering. But this new ship required something different—something specialized for the monumental task at hand. I’ve outfitted her specifically for evacuation: massive passenger bays, advanced life support, and reinforced defenses.
To ensure she could endure the worst the Thargoids might throw at us, I visited some old engineering acquaintances. Together, we pushed her limits, enhancing her speed, shielding, and jump range. Every detail, every modification, was made with one purpose: to save as many lives as possible, as quickly as possible.
She’s ready now, her sleek hull gleaming and her engines humming with barely contained power. I hope she’s enough. I hope these modifications will hold when tested by the Thargoid menace.
Welcome to my fleet, Hraesvelgr. May you soar like the mythical giant eagle whose name you bear, carrying humanity’s hope on your wings.