A Phoenix from the Ashes (Part 1)
28 Jul 2020Skanaby
The familiar high-pitched drone of the morning alarm pierces the silence that is in my bunk room. I awake suddenly and sit bolt upright in the bed; roused from my reoccurring nightmare that I have every night. My head is once more swimming with sadness and regret. Once again, I am drenched in a cold sweat - each bead like a droplet of ice on my otherwise tepid skin. I slowly lurch from my bunk and notice a new injury - my right shoulder twinges with a niggling pain deep inside the muscle. "Probably from that fucking bug drone smashing through the canopy," I mutter to myself, recalling a close shave the day before.I shower quickly in a trance; the hot spray cleansing away the night's terror, then I get dressed in the darkness - the morning routine is so drummed in to me by now that I can feel where everything is supposed to go on me without needing the light. My heart's still pounding from my dream, or so I hope to myself. No morning workout today - my shoulder is now burning with inflammation. I devour an MRE and a cup of instant coffee, then pop a few of those cyan pills I got from that doctor in Alioth. My god, she was beautiful as well as smart. Shame though - another victim lost to the bugs. My mind starts to wonder again - about the nightmare I just awoke from; about the transport ship catching fire from Thargoid scout attacks as it made it's way from the mouth of Artemis Lodge, itself now an inhospitable inferno from the Thargoid's relentless barrage. That Interceptor - curiously approaching the damaged vessel holding my helpless wife and child, then tearing through it's hull with an immense beam of green like a predator striking the final blow on it's wounded prey. The unsettling quietness after the explosion, and their indifference to what they had just done. My life forever changed in an instant. There wasn't anything I could do apart from scream in powerless desperation from being stranded in another transport ship as it jumps away from Celaeno. Why their's, and not mine? Nothing to do, nothing to bury...
Five minutes have passed, maybe. I remember where I am, and notice that those pills have kicked in - my shoulder feels better. Not one hundred percent, but better. Range of movement without pain has improved enough for me to fly today. Good.
- It's been two years. I'm done with drinking myself to oblivion. Kongaa Ale is overrated anyway, and I've pissed off enough starport bar owners. It's time to get back in the saddle, buddy.
That was my thought process last month, and that's how long I've been back in Pleiades - even though I vowed never to return here.
I make my way to the docks - the harsh lights of the bay flicker off the metal floor and bounce in to my vision, dazzling me somewhat. I'm greeted by my ride fully fixed from yesterday's action. Nice, shiny - they've even replaced the paint. I didn't ask for that. I clamber aboard Apocrypha - my trusty steed, and strap in for another day's work. My head is clearer, and I start to meditate on what awaits me in the vacuum as I take my seat and start the ignition sequence. "Systems online - engines online," Nostalgia at it's finest - I've missed you Verity, it's good to be back. My colleagues in Canonn are as always busy exploring the galaxy and waging war in the home systems, and perhaps I shall join them again someday soon, but for now I've got some revenge to serve on these bugs - dish best served cold, in space, or something like that. Whatever. Anyway - these AXI guys are okay, I suppose.