The shadow of Cocijo
15 Dec 2024Grizzly Beefstick
It’s been almost 3 years since I flew out of Mawson Dock in a Sidewinder. A lot has changed and I’ve seen and done more than I could have imagined. I’ve grown immensely. But today I’m left feeling incredibly small.
This wasn’t my first foray into Titanspace. Far from it. It was in the cloud of Cocijo herself that I first gathered the materials necessary to penetrate the maelstrom and come face to face with a titan. I’ve since contributed to the destruction of all seven of those defeated and proudly bear the stars of those victories on my krait.
I always feel a mild relief as I begin to see the asteroid field and start to look out for the Titan herself as the mist gradually reveals her outline. I saw her early this time, facing me directly. The eight petals of her distant silhouette illuminated by the fading blue of the torus. But as the blue faded further, giving way to the glow of humanity’s own Sun through the red mist, the Titan was revealed behind the interceptor I had mistaken for its queen. Her shadow looming, impossibly large. Like a hand over a flashlight enveloping an entire room in its giant ghostly grasp.
I hate these things for all they’ve inflicted on us. Hell, I don’t even really know what they are. But it was a moving sight. I couldn’t help but feel a tinge of reverence in the presence of the beast. Or ship. Or whatever the cursed monster is.
The moment was brief, and I gave that freaky colossus a shellacking in its big hot pineapple junk. But I’m still haunted by the overwhelming size of that terrible shadow. For all the billions I’ve amassed, and my fleet of ships, I’m tiny, and I understand nothing about the galaxy.
I wasn’t sure I’d make it out this time. I was out of caustic sinks and my repair limpet couldn’t keep up with the damage. I was rocked by an exploding caustic generator but was able to regain control of the ship and point it towards the faint stars now visible through the thinning cloud. I was close. The only problem was that between me and those distant stars, I was faced with the densest formation of caustic generators I’ve ever seen. It was in that moment that my COVAS announced “hull integrity critical”.
I’m not quite sure how I managed to get through the caustic generators without anymore explosions, but as I emerged I was met by the comforting, familiar sight of Earth down below. I could see my ancestral homeland to my right. In the shadow of the alien Titan I had almost forgotten where I was.
I suddenly felt connected to all of humanity. No matter where we are now, we all have our roots on this planet. We don’t know what these bugs think or feel, but they are threatening our planet, and we will make them feel the loss of every one of our race they have murdered. That is, if they even feel anything at all.
Could this really be the end of the war? It doesn’t feel like a triumphant victory. Just an ongoing struggle. I wonder what it will feel like when they are finally defeated. Relief maybe. For now I just feel small. And tired.