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[Criptfeind]

A

[Haspen]

"Sure." Tyomas smiles a little bit, then taps away at the glass, then takes a quick sip of his Nightrun.

"Which part?"

"There are several?"

"Yeah." He puts the glass down. "The first part, about a bright boy with big ideas. The middle part, about a soldier who realized something about himself. And the last part, about a bitter veteran who's got nothing left to do but fetch cargo from place to place to make a living."

A) "The first part."
B) "The middle one."
C) "Go right for the end."
D) "Actually, this is going places I am not comfortable with yet. Apologies."

[IncompetentFortressMaker]

A

[crazyabe]

A, might as well start at the beginning.

[King Zultan]

A

[Haspen]

"The first part." Tyomas lets out a sigh.

"Sure. So this kid was born, what, twenty eight? Twenty nine? Years ago. You know, on a terraformed colony. Gamma Tauri, the one and only habitable rock in the system, orbiting this blue and yellow gas giant. You ever stay up late and climb the roof of your apartment block and you look up and there is this huge, colorful orb, staring down at you. That's the sight I grew up with. And the first time I was old enough to grab a shuttle 'up there', I did. I was amongst the stars." He takes a sip.

"But then I learned that not all is well amongst the stars. I've had access to merchants and their stories, to interstellar news reports, to rumors from spacefarers. About the Corp. The Centaurians. The Drones and the Droids. All this warfare and conflict and injustice. Down the planetside news are filtered and you don't really even see aliens or modders or even synths. Happy little paradise that wants to keep being happy little paradise away from everyone else, you know. But I went up and that feeling was gone. I felt I gotta do a thing, like, contribute to the space society at large. Obvious choice - join the militia. So I did." He puts the glass down.

"I was barely fifteen so I wasn't legally allowed to be a recruit, but they gave me a Plaster and a uniform. Gamma Tauri and few others were back then 'The Aries Alliance', before that folded into the New Federation. But anyway, I traveled the stars - the local stars of course - as militia boy, you know, fetching boxes, keeping Plasters clean, helping out local police garrisons or pacing behind important dignitaries. My parents were proud and I was happy that I could lend a hand. All fun. All fun." Tyomas takes a deep breath.

"So one day, alarms come blaring. It was the day when me and few others and our Sergeant were at Zabayone-3, an arcology station, and we were visiting local school, you know, to point out to kids how important and rewarding being a militia man is. After the alarms news came that Centaurians were attacking. The station had several compartments dedicated as shelters, so my group helped herd the pupils into one of those secure compartments. But Centaurians had Drillers. You know what a Driller is?"

"No idea." Tyomas lets out a huff and starts gesticulating.

"It's a missile, with a drill at the warhead. It doesn't explode on impact, no, on impact, the drill kicks in, for several seconds, and aided by the missile's thruster, it burrows through the station plating, deep into the hull, and explodes after a certain distance. The arcology had point defenses of course, nobody's stupid nowadays to go without weapons, but this Driller, this one damned missile was one of the few that got through the laser screen. It hit the station and burrowed straight into the compartment where... where we led the... where the kids..." Tyomas looks at the glass and takes another sip.

"And the bright boy who thought himself important and a hero, just, died, you know? All these boys and girls younger than me that I thought I can protect, all thirty of them, gone in an instant."

"It wasn't your fault."

"Of course it wasn't. It was Centaurians' fault. I was enraged, as you probably can imagine. After the doctors sprayed my bruises and cuts I went to my Sergeant and told him, I think I actually yelled at him, that I want to join the Aries Defense Forces. 'Why?' He asked, surprised because I seemed content with where I was before, and I looked him in the eye and I said 'I want to kill all the Centaurians.' I'm not sure if he approved or not, I don't remember exactly that entire moment, but I remember what I said to him. So he took me to the recruitment office and I joined the Force. Sixteen years old, I put on plasteel boots and kinetic armor first time ever and got a real laser rifle."

1236USY.7d/1m.2250h

Tyomas tilts the glass and downs the remainder of the drink.

"And I started on my little quest. Killing all the Centaurians. Boarding actions, station defense, I even flew a Myrmidon few times to shoot down Centaurian fighters."

"That's the part two of your bad life?" Tyomas grimaces.

"No. Part two is few years into the whole of this crusading I was doing." He puts down the glass when your sensors console beeps.

Could it be - another incoming ship?

A) Excuse yourself to check the sensors.
B) "I wanna hear part two then."
C) "I think I've heard enough, sorry."

[Criptfeind]

B

Lets hear the rest of his story before looking at the sensors. Tbh, we probably gota go to sleep right after this guy drinks himself to death, I don't think we can accept more patrons, and anything else can probably wait for his story.

[IncompetentFortressMaker]

B

[King Zultan]

B

[Haspen]

"I wanna hear part two then." Tyomas shrugs.

"And I want some Asteroids." You nod and quickly pour him the mix - Martian, Sucrosol, crushed ice. Beep-boop goes the credchip scanner. (+71c)

Today Earnings: 975c
Monthly Earnings: 4851.5c

He takes a sip and sighs quietly.

"So yeah, I spent next two years shooting down Centaurians. It was simple, you know? They always wear those power suits and shaded helmets so you don't see anything. Plus sonic pulsers don't leave much to look at, either. I was quickly desensitized, you know?" He takes another sip.

"With time, I stopped thinking about Centaurians that got blown out through hull breachers, creamed by pulsers, or beaten up by my fellow soldiers. All that mattered was to kill Centaurians before they kill us. The combat drugs that the Alliance offered to more squeamish soldiers did help you concentrate on the killing more than the fact that your enemy is also a human." Tyomas puts down the glass.

"So one day, like any other day, there was a fight coming because a Centaurian assault force was spotted en route to the shipyard our troop wa guarding. It was a bog-standard operation like any other - they had to capture the shipyard so they would have facilities to repair their gunboats and build new ones and store supplies. Alarms blared and their troopships got through the PD screens, not that these were very useful, so these troopships land and we give in some ground to disperse the Centaurians and have them separated in the tight corridors and galleries." He pokes the glass, thinking.

"I think it was an hour after the landings that I had this encounter... like, I was in side corridor and here comes this tall Centaurian from a maintenance duct. I didn't see his face then but I'm pretty sure he was as surprised to see me in the corridor as I was seeing him pop out of the wall. Dunno what he was doing there, but, of course, we were basically one step away from each other. Thinking little about it I took a charge baton and began whipping at him, and he began pummeling. He was weak. Quite soft, so to speak. With a particularily strong whack I must've, like, damaged his helmet's circuits because when he fell, the helmet popped open, and I saw the face of the enemy." Tyomas quickly picks up the glass and gulps down the synthol mix.

"Do you expect fighting kids? I didn't. And there was this soft-faced, terrified, tear-eyed kid. I'm not talking, like, fifteen or sixteen. I'm pretty sure he was younger than that. Much younger, perhaps eleven? Twelve? I mean, who the fuck sends kids to war? I was fifteen when I joined any military and even then... yeah... He was about twelve. So he was staring at me, I was staring at him, because something flipped in my head and I just couldn't continue, you know." Another big sip.

"Then my troopers came running, yelling about something, I don't remember. So this kid got of course scared for his life and reached for his gun. I was quicker, though, and before he could lift his gun at me, I pointed my blaster at his face... and... and boom." Tyomas puts down the glass, staring somewhere for a long while.

"Everything was blood red for a while. Maybe it was trauma or something. My troopers pulled me and so I went back to fighting but, you know. A few days after we repelled the attack I had to take a break so I was given a leave and some drugs to relax and keep in shape. Unfortunately, I then had this bright idea to do some reading on Centaurians, and, yeah... I couldn't do it anymore." Tyomas quickly drinks the remainder of his Asteroids.

1236USY.7d/1m.2257h

Tyomas puts down the glass, leaving the bits of ices sloshing inside.

A) Now excuse yourself to check the sensors.
B) "Part three?"
C) "Thank you, I've had enough."

[Criptfeind]

B

[King Zultan]

B

[IncompetentFortressMaker]

B

[crazyabe]

BBBB

[Haspen]

"Part three?"

"How are you not tired of this yet?" Tyomas asks, staring at you dispassionately.

You shrug.

"Well, there's not that much compared to other parts. I lose my fighting spirit, so to speak, so I seeked honorable discharge. The war was coming to a close, with the Centaurians at the very least. Then the New Fed was announced and EXO-Lumina was in full retreat, so I was far from frontlines. You know, you grab a rifle, you can't put away a rifle. So I took bodyguarding and merchant protection... but the kid's face kept coming back." Tyomas sighs.

"After 'the' War ended too, well, I came back to my parents. Turns out mom died in shuttle accident and dad, whilst proud, seemed a bit too distant too me. Espousing all this planetary propaganda and stuff I no longer understood. So I took to the stars again, seeking... help? Help is a good word. For the stress. For the flashbacks. For the nightmares, you know. Unfortunately, the New Fed's psychological and psychiatric veteran bonus does not apply to those that didn't fight against EXO-Lumina for at least a year. So I was brushed aside."

"But you require help." Tyomas laughs mockingly.

"Oh, yeah. Don't worry, I did manage to get some help. So they scheduled me a non-priority assignment, its on..." He pulls out a small datapad from the inside of his jumpsuit and thumbs it for a while. "Ah, there. Sixth of Tenth, 1236. Aries Sector, Delta Pavonis II, Cornelius Trade Hub, appointment with Doctor Winston Winsley, Psychiatrist, 1400 Standard Hours." He puts the datapad back in the pocket.

"Until then I was prescribed, well, drugs. But cornycin leaves me weak and tired, and saurococtin knocks me out in half an hour, and I can't get a new prescription until the appointment. So. I travel, alone, delivering cargo just to pass by, somehow."

"You might hurt yourself, though." Tyomas looks at you, silent for a moment.

"Don't worry. I don't like easy ways out. Even if synthol... kinda is one. Still better than alternative. Ten months left. I can manage. I gotta manage. Yeah." He grabs the tank glass and slurps down the mostly melted ice and resultant water.

"I will manage, somehow." He says, and rubs his eyes.

"Thanks for the synthol, it's helping. I think I will hit the sleep pod on my ship now."

"Please come again." Tyomas smiles at you sadly.

"For synthol?"

A) "For synthol."
B) "For stories."
C) "For whatever you feel like."