To Make an End is to Make a Beginning
16 Jul 2017Jellicoe
"Target destroyed." The ships computer trilled as confirmation of the sizable bounty award flashed up in the corner of the HUD, the pilot felt a brief flicker of empty satisfaction as his victim exploded before scanning his contacts panel for another target. Empty. The word described him perfectly, for weeks now it had been the same, he had hunted pirates with a driven, ruthless intensity that none had seen before then he drunk himself into blessed oblivion every night but it changed nothing, when consciousness returned she was still dead, the cause was still lost and her followers were still hunted fugitives pushed to the frontier and beyond by the vengeful forces of the Federation, Empire and Alliance. How had it come to this? He was one of the lucky ones, the Children of Raxxla had still just about held on to their refuges but others had not been so fortunate, men like Isaiah and Corrigendum, if any men had ever epitomised the Imperial ideals of duty and honour it was those two yet both were now damned as traitors, both on the run and both now God only knew where. What hurt perhaps most of all was that the mission had been successful, whilst Salomé had fallen her three co-conspirators had got through to trigger hidden beacons telling any who would listen that humanity had been systematically lied to and manipulated by a hidden hand for decades, maybe even centuries. He had expected outrage, a shockwave of anger to sweep the bubble and governments to be rocked to their foundations, and their had been ripples as the news had spread, but it had lasted only until the following Saturdays football results and Princess Aisling stepping out sporting a new hairdo. Perhaps we deserved to be controlled if this was what we had become? Idiotic drones incapable of sacrificing comfortable servitude for a dream of freedom. He vaguely remembered a quote from some ancient revolutionary about religion being the opium of the people, it was a good line but it was nonsense, religion inspired people to do things, sometimes for good others for ill but it made them act. Those who wanted the people controlled had learned that sport, pornography and the vacuous pursuit of celebrity were far more effective narcotics to bring about docility.
"Mira take the con, get us well clear of the rez and weigh anchor for the night." He almost snarled before stalking off the bridge. He reached his quarters and took a sachet of brandy, the finest Lavian but he barely tasted it as it went down, several more followed and he was about to open yet another when a computerised bleep announced someone was at the door.
"Fuck off." He growled, but the door slid open anyway and in walked Claude Marsaud his first officer and oldest friend. "I thought I told you to f..."
"Shut up." Claude cut him off.
"Don't presume too much on our friendship Claude."
"Just how long are you going to keep this up?" Claude asked.
"Given that most of the galaxy wants me dead probably not very."
"So that's it, you're just giving up?"
"You may not have noticed but we lost." He hissed.
"So this is how it ends?" Claude demanded harshly. "You're just going to crawl into a bottle and wait for them?"
"Unless you have a better idea yes."
"Try fighting back."
"With what?" He spat. "We showed them the truth and they didn't even look up from their holo-facs, those of us that aren't dead are scattered and hiding. There isn't a shot left in our locker."
Claude sat down opposite his skipper. "We have the truth." The man gave a snort of derision but Claude continued anyway. "Look skipper you know I never took to her and almost to the end I didn't trust her, I thought she was some fucked up rich kid leading us all on some crazy wild goose chase to justify her existence, but the thing is she was right, she was right all along and she didn't stop being right when they killed her for it."
"So she was right, and now she's dead, and soon the rest of us will be too. So what?"
"Because whoever they are they know we're on to them and they're scared of us. We just need to keep pushing and the whole thing will fall in. Maybe I'm wrong but it's still a better way to die than just giving up, she didn't, and what did that crazy old man keep telling us? Elite combateers always finish what they start."
He smiled, only faintly and only for a moment but it was still there, a sign that hope cannot be killed, that the truth cannot be killed and that the light cannot be hidden forever.