How I learned to stop worrying and love the Thargoid War Part 3 (Epilogue)
18 Feb 2023KSI_Asmodai
I waved and grinned as the last pair of patrons left the bar, their unsteady steps echoing through the dimly lit establishment. Everyone else, including the bartender, lay sprawled out in various states of inebriation, some on barstools, others at tables, and a few even on the floor. Remarkably, the forty cases of Lavian Brandy I had stashed on the Challenger had made it through the chaotic dash from orbit to the base unscathed. With a sense of purpose, I'd distributed this rare and prized commodity to everyone, starting with the Faction leaders and working my way down through the chain of influential figures at the base. Finally, I found myself here at the base bar, where I paid the bartender to keep the bar and food tab open for a generous eight hours, making the last five cases available for patrons to help themselves.Throughout the night, the bar had been teeming with a boisterous crowd, fueled by the allure of an open bar tab. I'd taken the opportunity to express my gratitude to the tireless flight maintenance crews, handing out half a million credits to each shift to share among themselves. I also made amends with the air traffic control crew, who had overheard my rather colorful comments about the inconveniently placed light poles near the landing pads. I thanked them profusely and handed each controller a hundred grand for their essential role in facilitating safe landings and takeoffs. They were, in no small way, responsible for saving countless lives.
Amid the revelry, I spotted several familiar faces – fellow Commanders who had fought alongside me in battles above this base. There were also many missing faces, those who had paid the ultimate price while combating the Thargoids.
I raised my glass once more in their memory, a gesture that had become a recurring theme throughout the night. However, as I sipped the brandy, I couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt. My toast wasn't just a tribute to their bravery; it was also a reflection of my own sense of relief. I had survived while they had not. Their sacrifice had spared me from being reduced to rubble or transformed into the gruesome remnants of a Thargoid attack. It was an unsettling truth, but a truth nonetheless.
I sat for a moment, allowing the guilt to subside. I noticed that the base had fallen eerily quiet, except for a distant, persistent alarm. The fearsome symphony of Thargoid weaponry pounding the surface and the frenzied response from humanity had ceased. The Thargoids had departed, having calculated their losses and decided to move on to another target. Unlike the emotional and chaotic retreats of humanity, the Thargoids had simply left, their motives shrouded in mystery.
It was this unpredictability that gnawed at me. My kingdom was built on credits, and I had honed the art of amassing wealth. I chuckled as I glanced at the bartender, now unconscious on the bar, remembering his initial skepticism when I offered to pay the night's tab. His disbelief had evaporated when he swiped my Credit Chit, verifying that I could indeed cover the cost. Many Commanders believed themselves to be wealthy with their Fleet Carriers, but the reality was often different. I possessed the means to buy fifty of them, even had a backwater Faction offer me a Capital Ship. But such possessions held little value to me. People had threatened to strip me of my Faction's Home system, or even destroy my ships, but I remained unfazed. Possessions were replaceable; credits had to be earned. The Thargoids posed a threat to that way of life, and that was my primary concern.
That worry had led me to invest billions in sending my Fleet Carrier to decaying Guardian grave worlds, searching for parts and blueprints to create weapons and modules to combat the Thargoids. I ventured into anarchy systems, committing unspeakable crimes to gather the necessary materials from wrecked ships. Those same billions funded the purchase of new ships for the battle, as well as more trips with the Fleet Carrier to icy planets in the deep void to gather materials needed by Engineers to reinforce our ships. My time, too, held value, spent on weeks working with various Factions to secure permits and deliver supplies to aid in the war effort, all for little more than a break-even result.
And so, here I sat, still uncertain of the Thargoids' next move and no closer to regaining my former life. A faint beep from my wrist comm panel drew my attention. I glanced at it and saw that the charge for the night's festivities had been processed. The bar owners, committed to earning credits even in times of war, had ensured that the bill was settled. As I dismissed the payment notification, I noticed a persistent message icon on the screen, an unsolicited message I had neglected earlier.
Amid all the system-hopping and battles, this was the first real respite I'd had in months. I tapped the icon and saw a message from the Pilot's Federation regarding my Combat Bonds. A wave of calm washed over me as I saw that I had amassed over eight billion Credits since the onset of the war. I could finally put my worries to rest.
Standing up from the bar, I made my way to the nearest Data Terminal. After a few quick searches regarding the Thargoids, I found the information I needed – the nearest system with a low-G planetary base under Thargoid attack, Ahol. Switching to my communications panel, I sent a vid message to one of my former Squadron mates.
"Croaker, are you up for lending a hand to some Ahols fighting Thargoids?" I asked with a grin. "Message me back, there are credits to be earned."
FIN
Part 1
Part 2