We are the Aliens
13 Dec 2024Rawnu
I’ve spent so much time thinking about what we’re fighting, but I’m starting to wonder if the real question isn’t who or what—it’s why. Not their motives in a tactical sense, not their immediate goals, but something deeper. Why do they react the way they do? What do they see when they look at us? The Thargoid hive mind—whatever it is—operates on a scale and logic that feels incomprehensible. I’ve always thought of it like an ocean tide: vast, inevitable, pushing forward with an unstoppable rhythm. But tides are predictable. The hive mind isn’t. It shifts. It changes. Seo Jin-ae talks about its “tone,” and that word has been circling in my head all day.Tone. Not strategy, not intent—tone. Like a conversation we’re not invited to but are still somehow part of. What if this war isn’t just a clash of survival, but something more fundamental? What if, to them, we’re not even enemies in the way we understand the term?
I try to imagine seeing humanity through their eyes—or whatever the hive mind uses to perceive. Would we look like individuals? Or like fragments of something larger? We’ve spent centuries defining ourselves through nations, factions, and systems: the Federation, the Empire, the Alliance... heck, even the Pilots Federation... But the Thargoids seem to act as one. They’re a singular entity, not fractured by borders or ideologies. I wonder if they even understand what individuality or diversity means. Maybe that’s why we seem so chaotic to them. Unfocused. Erratic. If I were a part of their hive mind, watching a species that can’t even agree on how to fight a common enemy, would I see us as a threat—or just a curiosity?
The thought unsettles me. Not because I think they underestimate us, but because I think they’re learning from us. Every battle, every engagement—it’s like we’re teaching them who we are. And I wonder if we’ll regret the lessons we’re giving them.
I’ve been thinking about Shinrarta Dezhra, about why they’d target Jameson Memorial. Everyone talks about the tactical reasons—the disruption to AX operations, the blow to the Pilots Federation’s infrastructure. But I wonder if there’s something else. Jameson Memorial is a hub for elite commanders, the best of what humanity’s pilots can achieve. It’s practical, powerful, and exclusive—a reflection of the way we organize ourselves. Maybe that’s why the Thargoids went there. Not because it’s a symbol of all humanity, but because it’s a symbol of how fragmented we are. To the Thargoids, maybe it doesn’t matter what Jameson Memorial means to us. Maybe it was just another target. Or maybe they wanted to see if we’d fight harder for it, if we’d see it as more than just a station. Either way, it makes me wonder—how do they choose what to attack? What does their hive mind think is important to us?
And then it hits me: we’re the ones trying to understand their motives, but maybe they’re trying to understand ours, too. To the Thargoids, we are the aliens—chaotic, unpredictable, fragmented and... well, alien. They don’t see us as individuals or factions, just as one strange, dangerous species tearing through the galaxy, acting out of fear and hunger. I wonder if they look at us and see something incomprehensible, just like we see them. Maybe this war isn’t about domination or survival. Maybe it’s about two alien species staring at each other across an impossible divide, trying to figure out what the other really is.
For now, I fight because I have to. But the question lingers in my mind: what do they see when they look at us? And if we could know the answer, would we even recognize ourselves?