005 - The Evacuation of Sol
01 Dec 2024S_OLDIER_X
[- FEDERAL CONGRESS EMERGENCY MANDATE -][ PRIORITY: CRITICAL ]
I couldn't do nothing.
I had the wizard-shipyard techs of Shinrartra Dezhra do a quick once-over outfitting my Type-8 - the FLC Vore - converting cargo bays to passenger cabins, and adding a few components that, they say, will be a lifesaver in the event of a Thargoid hyperdiction. They didn't tell me the odds of the likelihood of being hyperdicted - and I purposefully hadn't asked - but their overall mood was grim, which told me more than I wanted to know: the odds weren't great.
"Never tell me the odds." - Han Solo
I arrived in Sol shortly thereafter. My arrival at Mars High was met with a scene of utter pandemonium: the docks were beyond filled with people - refugees seeking an escape from the system before the arrival of the Titan Cocijo; women, men, and children of all ages, hundreds upon hundreds of faces, all distorted with the contortions that usually accompany complete terror.
I thought of my family on Mars, curious if they had evacuated already. If they hadn't, I wondered to myself what the odds were that they would wind up on my transport - now THAT would be something!
My reverie was interrupted by the sound of small-caliber weapons fire coming from somewhere in the distance on the dock, and followed by the expected shouts as the people nearest to the sound's source reacted in panic. I had enough room for 96 souls on board, and watched as seat indicators filled on my display, representing human asses being planted in seats. They blinked "on" steadily as people filed into my ship one-by-one.
When at last I received the notification that all seats had been filled, I sent the automated request to undock and got underway. Once there was some distance between the station and my ship, I plotted a course for nearby system V885 Centauri, where a rescue ship was stationed in orbit of a ringed planet, and initiated the interstellar hyperspace jump.
We'd barely entered Witchspace proper when all of my instrument panels started screaming in alarm. Power systems failed, causing display and lights to dim and flicker. We were being hyperdicted, and there was only one kind of ship capable of actively pulling another out of Witchspace - Thargoid. My ship bucked and began to tumble at faster-than-light speed, until the tether was severed and the ship tumbled and slipped into normal space.
All was quiet for a moment in the black deadness, and when the instrument panel came alive again, the alarms continued shrieking as three Thargoid vessels appeared.
Full throttle - max burn. Our bodies slammed into our seats at high G as I began evasive maneuvers while I waited for my frame shift drive to restart. After several agonizing, infinite moments I heard the warm hum of the FSD enaging. A few more moments and we were home free.