Date: May 3rd, 2955
System: Pyro
Ship(s): Echo of Imladris (Aegis Avenger Titan), later Echo of Imladris II (F8C Lightning)
Checkmate Station. A place built not to welcome, but to endure. My room was as I remembered: grim, cluttered, and grimy. But this time — there was coffee. A tin mug, a cold plate of something edible, and a little corner of light on metal. I sipped, standing among rust and wires, and let myself feel something close to peace. The quiet before the storm.
As I moved through the station toward the vendors, my eyes caught something… absurdly soft amid the chaos. The war-torn corridors of Checkmate are not without their strange graces. There, between the flickering fluorescents and the oily puddles, I discovered him… not a weapon, nor loot, nor tactical boon — but a plushy. A plush penguin pilot. Abandoned. Dusty. Adorable.
Without hesitation, I reached down. My armor hissed as I crouched beside the cluttered crate... and without a word, I gently hoisted the soft voyager from the trash and placed him upright on the rusted counter — like he was a captain too.
I smiled at him. Just like that. There’s no great explanation for it. Just a small joy in a hard place. A reminder that not all hearts are hardened by war.
Some parts of me are still stitched, wide-eyed, and wearing a helmet two sizes too big.
Finrod’s voice chimed softly in my head. “A moment of reverence, Captain. Even among refuse, we may find relics.”
I left the plush upright and saluting.
Pyro’s amber glare hadn’t faded from memory, yet here we stood again—tasked, as ever, with justice. The hangar was still when I arrived, my Titan resting in a hush, waiting. Panels shimmered faintly with residual heat, and overhead, industrial lights carved long shadows across her hull. I stood beside her, boots echoing across the bay, and couldn’t help but smile. My AI companion Finrod flickered gently through my visor.
“Engines primed, Captain. Let the hunt begin.”
Mission: Wanna Be a Headhunter?—a contract shrouded in cryptic coordinates and death sentences. The bounty had vanished into the burnt ridges of Pyro II. All we had was their last known location.
I launched. The red world below sprawled out like a painting of spilled wine and ash, cloaked with scattered clouds that drifted like quiet spirits. The Titan cruised low and fast. Beneath me, crimson sands sculpted into sharp valleys and winding canyons. My HUD flickered with hostile pings—three, maybe more.
“Three?” I muttered. “They brought friends.”