Brotherblaze’s Reflection: The Dark Side of the Grind
09 Oct 2024Brotherblaze
In the quiet moments between missions, I often find myself grappling with the shadows of this lifestyle. The life of a mercenary, especially one tethered to the ambitions of Mebech Netcoms Limited, has its undeniable allure, but it also casts a long, dark shadow over my soul.
With Mebech Netcoms Limited tightening its grip on the system, opportunities for honest work—trading and mining—have dwindled to almost nothing. The infrastructure we’re building has left little room for the honest man; the traders and miners have been all but pushed aside, forced to navigate around our corporate ambitions. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, knowing that my actions contribute to the very limitations that strangle livelihoods.
In this void, the “grind” becomes a relentless cycle. Days bleed into nights filled with combat, hunting down pirates until their numbers become not just forgettable, but better forgotten. Each kill weighs heavily on me, etching a darker mark on my conscience. I’ve lost count of the lives I’ve taken, and while they were often scum of the galaxy, it doesn’t ease the burden of having to end lives just to stay afloat.
Plans I once had for a deep core mining ship—a dream of quiet, honest work amidst the asteroids—have shifted. Now, the thought of acquiring a Federal dropship outfitted for combat, perhaps aptly named Iron Heart, is what drives me. It feels fitting; in this profession, you need a heart of iron to endure the brutality and moral grayness of it all.
I sit now in a dimly lit bar on the outskirts of some forgotten outpost, nursing a drink under the red-tinted light. It reminds me of the red dwarf sun over Argon Forge (Mebech C 1), casting a surreal glow that seems to emphasize the weight of my choices. The patrons around me laugh and chatter, blissfully unaware of the darkness that often lingers at the edge of our lives. I can’t help but wonder if they know what it means to carry the burden of violence, to be trapped in a cycle of conflict with no clear escape.
As I watch the light flicker, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m losing touch with the man I used to be. Each mission chips away at the idealism I once held, replacing it with a pragmatic survival instinct. But even in this haze, I find flickers of hope. I remind myself that every battle fought, every pirate defeated, brings us closer to a stronger Mebech—a Mebech that could eventually allow for the return of honest work, for trading and mining to flourish once more.
But for now, all I can do is embrace the grind, fight the battles that need to be fought, and try to retain a shred of humanity amid the chaos. The shadows may be deep, but I’ll keep searching for the light—if only to remind myself why I started this journey in the first place.
