The Old Guard: Memories, drinks, and Raxxla
18 Nov 2024Haraldsen
InGaBa's lounge was bustling with activity, but in one dimly lit corner, a group of seasoned pilots gathered around a scarred, circular table. Their faces, etched with years of experience, told tales of battles won and lost. This was the Old Guard, a revered circle of elite pilots who had witnessed the galaxy’s transformation over decades.Commander Jared "Ironclad" Daniels raised his glass, a twinkle of nostalgia in his eye. "Remember the days when we flew those old Cobra's? Hard to believe we survived without all the fancy tech we have now."
"Aye," grunted Rachel "Hawk" Hawkins, her leather jacket adorned with patches from countless missions. "Back then, it was just raw skill and grit. No fancy auto-dock or engineered modules. Just you, your ship, and the black."
Hawk's words stirred memories in the others. One by one, they started sharing their tales.
"Do you remember the first time we encountered a Thargoid?" asked Mike "Maverick" McAllister, his voice tinged with awe. "We had no idea what we were up against. Our weapons barely scratched them."
Jared nodded. "I lost good friends in those early skirmishes. But look at us now. We’ve adapted, learned, and fought back. The Thargoid war may even be over soon, but the scars remain."
Mike's expression turned contemplative. "And let's not forget Salvation. The figure who claimed to have all the answers to the Thargoid threat. His technology was groundbreaking, but his methods... they were questionable at best. In the end, he disappeared as strangely as he appeared, leaving behind a legacy of mysteries."
The conversation shifted to the changes in the political landscape. "The galaxy’s a different place now," said Sarah "Oracle" Lend, a pilot known for her strategic brilliance. "The Federation, the Empire, the Alliance... they’ve all evolved. New powers have risen, old ones have fallen. But some things never change. There’s always someone trying to control the galaxy."
Hawk leaned back, a smirk playing on her lips. "And we’re still out here, navigating their chaos. But do you remember the early days of engineering? When getting a Frame Shift Drive upgrade felt like a miracle?"
Laughter erupted around the table. "Those were the days," Maverick chuckled. "Now, we have tons of Guardian technology and experimental weapons. Makes you wonder what’s next."
Their reminiscing was interrupted by a younger pilot who approached their table, eyes wide with admiration. "Excuse me, are you... the Old Guard?"
Jared smiled warmly. "We are. What can we do for you, kid?"
The young pilot fumbled with his words, clearly starstruck. "I've heard so many stories about you all. Your exploits, your victories... it’s an honor to meet you."
"Sit down, kid," Oracle said, pulling up a chair. "We’ve got plenty of stories to share, and maybe you’ve got a few of your own."
As the young pilot joined them, the Old Guard continued their tales, weaving the fabric of their shared history with the awe of a new generation. They spoke of Salome's end, of the alliances and betrayals that had shaped the galaxy, of the once great Explorers' Nation and of the ever-evolving technology that had changed the face of space travel with the introduction of carriers.
Jared leaned in, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "And let's not forget the NMLA. Those Neo-Marlinists shook the very foundations of the galactic civilization. Their attacks were brutal, and their ideology resonated with many disillusioned souls. I remember the chaos during the Nine Martyr Bombings... dark times indeed."
Maverick leaned forward, his expression serious. "And then there were the Black Swan Pirates. Ruthless, cunning, and always one step ahead. They terrorized trade routes and made even the bravest pilots think twice before venturing into certain sectors. I remember a time when running into one of their ambushes meant almost certain death."
Hawk's eyes darkened. "I lost a good friend to pirates from the Code. Back then, pirates were more than just a nuisance; they were a real danger. But we fought back, and nowadays, you find them only at the fringes."
The younger pilot listened intently, absorbing every word. "It sounds like you’ve seen it all. How do you keep going after all these years?"
Jared smiled. "By remembering why we started in the first place. The thrill of exploration, the camaraderie, the endless quest for knowledge and adventure. It's what binds us together and keeps us moving forward."
The young pilot hesitated for a moment before asking, "And what about Raxxla? Do you think Raxxla is real? Have any of you ever tried to find it?"
The table fell silent. Oracle leaned back, her eyes narrowing thoughtfully. As she spoke, a stranger at the neighbouring table turned his head. Their eyes met and they exchanged a knowing look, while he nodded slightly as if to confirm an unspoken agreement. "Ah, Raxxla. The ultimate mystery. Every pilot has their theories, their own stories about it. Some say it's a myth, others swear it's real. I've chased a few leads myself, but it's always just out of reach."
Jared nodded in agreement. "The legend of Raxxla has inspired countless explorers. It's a beacon of hope, a symbol of the endless possibilities out there. Whether it's real or not, it's the dream that matters. It's not about finding Raxxla. It's about the pursuit, the journey."
As the hours passed, the bond between the old and the new grew stronger. The Old Guard knew that their legacy would live on, not just in their stories, but in the hearts and minds of those who would carry the torch forward, and that the spirit of adventure and camaraderie would always endure. Also they knew that technology would always evolve. New ships would be developed, new engineering breakthroughs would happen, and soon, mankind would build space stations in faraway places.
The future still held an infinite number of possibilities for those who would take their place, like the one mentioned in a crumpled note the young pilot found in his coat pocket the next day while recovering from his hangover:
The eyes that seek the hidden door,
find only shadows, nothing more.
The treasure, lost in ancient lore,
moves secretly near time's vast shore.
Raxxla is real.