My First Month On The Thargoid Front
16 May 2024LIU SHUN
You know, I made my fortune flying around in the bubble. I turned my Sidewinder into a handsome little fleet of specialized ships. I've done all you can imagine - hunted for bounties, mined, traded, explored. Don't tell anyone, but even tried pirating on a few occasions.It all went well, but I felt a growing restlessness about the Thargoid war. Like, we're pretending that nothing serious is out there, but all our relative peace, fun and most of all: safety is provided by a few brave warriors fighting on the outer rims of the bubble. And since I made a good fortune trading goods and completing missions under their protection, I began feeling that I owe them. A lot, actually.
So it was high time to join the fight.
First I thought I just make a couple evac runs. I knew it was going to be nothing like anything I knew before, yet I crapped my pants anyway when I got hyperdicted for the first time. Although I got away unharmed (in fact, the 'goid didn't even attack me I guess), my heartrate skyrocketed to levels never known before. Even the sight of interceptors terrified me as I approached my destination under attack. I flew in among the fighting human and alien ships, and I couldn't imagine how someone could even face these monsters without panicing away. I boosted in, picked up a few refugees and got the hell out of there as fast as I could. My passengers where overwhelmingly grateful for taking them out of the danger zone. That is, until we were hyperdicted on our way out as well, this time by hunters. I haven't even heard of them before. This time it didn't go that smoothly. The bastards took a good portion of the refugees and left my ship badly damaged before I got away. Though lesson learned.
I kept working on the thrusters, armour, shield, even the weapons of the ship to prevent the losses. Even built in limpet controllers to retrieve at least some of my passengers torn out of the ship. But there always were casualties. I found myself watching the boarding refugees and guessing who would survive and whom I would loose. Giving them hope and then helplessly watching them die was slowly grinding me up. However, by this time at least I got used to the presence of 'goids around me. I started to figure it's a better way to protect these people to kill the invaders in the first place, rather then keep running away. I knew it was time to shift gears and join the actual fight.
First I went after scouts, both becasue they were easier targets and I needed some mats to buy bigger guns. They proved to be suprisingly easy targets, although whenever I started to have fun, some interceptor daddies always showed up to chase me away. But I'm not the kind of guy you can push around for long without consequences. It was only a matter of time before I held my ground and faced them.
I can't say it went well on the first few occasions. On the first few dozens, actually. Boy, the sheer sound of them terrified me! I closed in on my attack run, fell immediately into panic as the goid turned towards me, fired my fixed weapons all around without hitting the heart, overheated my ship, got hit a zillion times - but always managed to get away - crippled, but still breathing. I managed to get to a nearby dock for repairs and lived to fight another day.
I got mixed reactions from the other pilots at the stations. Some made fun of me, some was outraged and told me to go home as I was useless and only made things worse. Some encouraged me, sharing that even the meanest commanders in the bar had to go through this and with time I'll have the experience to score kills regularly. But most vets just ignored me, holding a glass of Lavian Brandy and starting into the distance.
Then something shifted. I don't know what it was, but I scored my first kill. Then shortly after the second, the third. It was still a life and death struggle, but I had my occasional success from time to time. I wasn't an outsider anymore. I was carrying my own weight. I got the hang of it. After all, all you need to do is to be constantly aware of your heat, speed, heading, pips, damages to the ship, and the position of the targets around you, esp. missiles and thargons. Don't panic, ever. It doesn't help and you really don't need to. Just don't be a hero, when in doubt, just go home, repair and rejoin the fight. You're the faster vessel, so keep distance under your strict control. When you make your move just keep cool both literally and figuratively. "Chill and kill" became my mantra I always tell myself as I close in on an interceptor. Stay focused and don't listen to the voice in your head screaming "run away"! Take all the time you need to aim. Well, it helps a lot if your aim is fast and accurate, but it's still better to stay cold in the line of fire for a little longer than start shooting around with no effect except for boiling your ship and taking a ton of hits. As long as you're cold you're relatively safe. Once you start firing you'd better have the job done quickly. Just take the clear shot, boost away and repair. Can't get the right angle? Manouver or just boost away if necessary. Patience. Easy.
Ok, maybe not that easy. Getting more experienced and confident doesn't save your from making mistakes, and in Thargoid combat mistakes cost lives - yours or someone else's. Do you know how it feels to get electrocuted and boiled alive the same time as you desperately try to finish off a goid who trapped you with it's lightning attack? I do. Have you ever wondered who's screaming on the comms only to realize: you are? I have. Did you ever break off from a fight to repair your heavily damaged ship and return to the scene witnessing only wreckage where your comrades used to fight a short while ago? I have. Have you ever helplessly drifted away in space in a knocked out craft hoping that the 'goids go after your friends instead of you? I have.
With time you get better, make less mistakes and kill more 'goids each sortie. It's never going to be routine though, you'll always get your adrenalin rush when you face them. You'll actually get addicted to that. You may have come to save humanity, but you sure stay for your daily dose of adrenalin. What else could make you return to the battle each day? The money is good and patriotism is nice, but only lunatics take these risks and face the horrors willingly.
If you survive long enough to accumulate some experience your chances to actually stay alive and the number of your kills go up drasticly. But it also changes you. You need to handle the survivors' guilt and avoid keep thinking about the fallen. Lavian brandy may not help much, but it sure softens the pain for a short while. You're utterly shocked the first few times you see your buddy fighting beside you blow up or an evac ship full of refugees go down in flames. But you get used to death, it's part of the day's work of killing dozens of sentient alien beings. See a rookie being too hot and too close to a Thargoid? There's your chance to attack the beast while it's distracted! The kid's toast anyway, there's nothing you or anyone can do about it. It's better to make his unnecessary sacrifice count. Sneak in, snipe the heart, boost out. You hear the Thargoid's painful cry, but shortly after its victory roar too. Rest in peace, kid. Also, time to check damage reports, repair if necessary, cool down and line up for the next attack run. Emotions are luxuries we do not have.
So don't get too close to noobs as they often and quickly get killed for their stupid mistakes. Actually, the best you can do for them is to discourage them hoping they go home ashamed but alive, and don't die or turn into a monster themselves as I did. Or just don't talk to anyone. What can be said, anyway?
Noone goes home from this war. Most just perish. But those who survive won't be the same either. Their hearts will be as cold as their ships and as broken as their Thargoid victims'.