The soft rumble of the engines comforts me as I gaze through my canopy, admiring the colors of witch-space. Even though I've jumped thousands of times, witch-space still gives me some sense of the same jittery feeling of excitement. Now, though, it's coupled with a comforting familiarity. The rumble fades as the colors materialize into a massive star, glowing bright orange. My headset clicks as Samira announces our arrival.
"Arrived in Coelaba. System population: one-point-six million," she says, startling me from my thoughts.
"Thanks, Samira," I mutter, knowing full well she won't respond. Space gets lonely sometimes, and I appreciate her presence. It's easy to go mad out here, without interaction. "Set destination: Shatalov Station. We're going home."
The stars around me spin as the ship turns and begins accelerating in the destination of the station. It has been months since I visited, and I'm long overdue. Governor Knowles--who I named Samira after--will be surprised to see me. We have much to discuss, given the recent chaos.
As the system's main star fades behind me, my thoughts wander to events of the last few weeks, and how terrifyingly close we came to war. It all started with expansion plans to a nearby system, Suku Maola. Our analysts had determined it made a good target for our faction, and we immediately began to prepare the system for our arrival. Preparation had not gone as anticiapted. As luck would have it, another faction--Independent Tactical Force--was still active in the system, and they were fending off two threats to their control: us, and Federal Fleet Marine Force.
Historically, our neighborhood is a friendly pocket of space; far removed from the complex politics of the Superpowers and focused on collaboration and peace between neighbors. Our expansion was predicated on the assumption that ITF had gone dormant. If we had known they were still active, we would never have...but I digress. FFMF is a new entity to the neighborhood. As a Federally-aligned faction, they threatened to break the peace and bring the Federation breathing down our necks. We've never had any interest in superpower affiliation, and with the recent changes in the Federation (namely, the election of President Felicia Winters), I'm not anxious to start. Every new leader must prove their title, and I wasn't interested in being her proof.
A careful analysis of FFMF showed them to be an expansionist faction. They were growing rapidly, seizing systems and steamrolling smaller entities. If Federal powerplay was backing them...it could spell trouble. When they arrived in HR 3747, they quickly became the dominant faction there. Their next expansion...could it be to our space? We didn't want to find out. I reached out to our friends at Applied Science Initiative, inviting them into HIP 43841--a system we maintain, but one that's vulnerable to unknown entities. They agreed, and we began pushing for expansion. Everyone in the neighborhood was alerted: FFMF seemed to be a power to reckon with, and they had made no efforts to communicate and join our backwater community. They were here to take over.
We weren't quick enough. FFMF had already triggered their own expansion; they were moving in. We needed to act, quickly. We identified two potential expansion targets, and began prepping them. Surely, we could divert FFMFs expansion. Our allies joined in, and we successfully triggered two retreats. War seemed imminent.
FFMF noticed our efforts, and the outreach we thought they had forgone finally came. We got lucky. They were not interested in a takeover; rather, they were ensuring security in areas of space home to long-vanished factions. We negotiated a deal, one that everyone seems happy with. At least for now, it seems war is unnecessary.
The ship shudders as the FSD powers down, and Shatalov Station appeared in front of me. "Welcome CMDR," comes the call over the radio. "Welcome to Shatalov Station. Please request docking."
"Samira, request docking," I say, watching the ships around me queueing. These were our faction members, the civilians we had sworn to protect. Coming this close to war...it scared me. As I navigated through the mail slot, my thoughts turned toward the future. We need to be more prepared. I had drafted a new document, a policy for our Rapid Response committee. Our Wing Leaders were in agreement with the necessity. CMDR Davey Jonez and CMDR AttackPanda were going to head up this new military arm, a group of our best combat pilots ready to respond at a moment's notice to any threats. Training would be difficult, but I knew our pilots were up to the job.
The ship shudders to a halt on the landing pad, and the hydraulic system groan as I descend into the hangar. Governor Knowles is waiting for me, and we have much to discuss.
