From The Ashes...
12 Dec 2024Anubis101
Logbook EntryDate: December 5th, 3310
Commander: Noxx "Anubis" Taylor
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I woke up in silence. Not the soft hum of an active ship, nor the busy chatter of a bustling station. Silence.
Four years. That's how long I spent in that damned cryo-chamber, frozen in time, unable to act, to protect.
It all feels like a blur now, those months of fighting in our squadron's home system — that war. My body shattered, burned, and broken beyond what even I could endure. I remember the explosion, the crash, the pain. I remember being too far gone, too deep into the fight to save myself. A direct hit from a Thargoid interceptor — no shields, no hope. Just a burning wreck of flesh and metal.
The last thing I saw before slipping into that endless sleep was the image of my fleet carrier, the CDC, hanging in the system, a beacon of everything I had fought for.
When I awoke, it wasn’t the same universe I left behind.
My Legio Custodes — dissolved. My friends — gone. The CDC — decommissioned, abandoned like an old relic of a forgotten war. Everything I had built, everything I had worked for, stripped away in my absence. Once again, I was alone. Just a ghost drifting in the void.
I couldn’t even bring myself to look at my own reflection in the glass — the scars, the scars of both my body and my soul, etched deep. But I wasn’t the only one who had suffered. The galaxy had changed. The Thargoid threat had been... almost beaten? I couldn’t believe it.
But then, the news. The Titan — Cocijo. The last remnant of their monstrous fleet, it was coming... straight for Earth. Humanity’s cradle. The cradle of my people. The weight of that news hit me like a thunderclap. I knew what I had to do.
I had to fight.
I spent weeks, months even, in the stations of the Sol system. I learned everything I could about anti-xeno tactics, every veteran willing to teach me, every scrap of data on Thargoid weaponry. I dug through old archives, tinkered with new technology, and fought in every skirmish I could find. But something was missing.
I was missing.
Then, fate intervened.
It was in a dusty corner of a bar in Sol, a nondescript backroom gathering, when I met him. CMDR Straytaker. He led a squadron called the Swords of Makhai, and after a few exchanged words, he invited me to join.
"Come back," he said. "Find your place again. No one should fight alone."
I didn’t know if I could trust it. I didn’t know if I could trust anyone again. But I had nothing left. No leads, no answers, just the ghost of what had been. So I agreed.
With them, I built again. A Krait Mk II, a Federal Corvette — ships made for the sole purpose of taking down the Thargoids. And slowly, bit by bit, I rebuilt myself, too. I reclaimed the CDC. It’s still there, waiting for its true purpose. A symbol of what was, and what will be.
The Swords of Makhai... they’ve given me more than just new allies. They’ve given me a place to call home. I’ve laughed again. I’ve felt the camaraderie of fighters who understand the price we pay. It’s not much — but it’s something. Something real.
But tomorrow...
Tomorrow, the final battle will be upon us. Cocijo will make its move. The end of the line. The chance to save Earth... or lose it all.
I can feel the weight of it pressing on my chest. The question lingers — will I lose more friends? Will I be alone once again? Or will this be the moment we change the tide, for good?
I don’t know.
But I do know this: I will not fail again.