"Nope,"
Darius laughed.
"You're stuck with us for life."
As the laughter and conversation filled the medbay, Airid couldn't help but grin. His body still hurt like hell, but it felt good to be back.
The galaxy was still dangerous, still unpredictable, but with this battlebrothers that were one of the most Idiotic and nutjobs In existence by his side, he knew he'd make it through.
...
MC POV
A few hours later, the crew gathered in Invictas common area, our makeshift mess hall. The mood was relaxed after Airid's return, and the table was piled with drinks and snacks.
Bottles of cheap whiskey and beer, bags of chips, and dried rations, our post mission feast. We were still celebrating with my own made techno music from almost two centuries back blaring loudly from the loudspeakers, but I had something more serious on my mind, and it was time to lay out the plan.
I looked around at my battle brothers, Paul, Julian, Darius, Robert and Airid, who was in his wheelchair, a glass of whiskey in hand.
I was limping, still feeling the pain from Med Karash I. Airid had months of physical therapy ahead of him same as me.
Darius had problems with his shoulder, we weren't just wounded, we were vulnerable, and that wasn't something I could allow again.
"Alright, listen up gents,"
I began, my voice cutting through the casual banter. Everyone turned their attention toward me, knowing from my tone that this was serious.
"I haven't been idle these last three months while Airid was out."
I tapped a button on the table, and a holographic display flared to life above us, showing various data and charts.
"I've been digging into how things work here in the Galactic Council's space mercenary system. And here's the bottom line, there are no restrictions on technology. None."
Paul raised an eyebrow.
"What do you mean, 'no restrictions'?"
I leaned forward, gesturing to the hologram.
"I mean exactly that. Every guild and its branches in the Galactic Council doesn't give a damn what tech you have, as long as you've got the credits to pay for it. You want a juggernaut with level 5 tech? Done. You've got the cash, you get the tech. The Interstellar Civilizations, such as UNOE and Uranians have to advance normally, developing tech stage by stage. They've got rules Imposed by the galaxies big thugs. But mercs? We don't. We can buy whatever the f*ck we want if we've got the money."
Julian leaned back in his seat, his brows furrowed in thought.
"That explains why so many of these Interstellar civilizations hire mercenaries instead of expanding their own armies. They can't compete with the high-tech gear available on the market."
"Exactly,"
I confirmed.
"It's cheaper for them to hire well equipped mercs than to develop their own tech, and it lets them avoid political backlash from their own people. But here's the catch if we want to survive in this business, we need to do more than just upgrade our gear."
I paused, letting that sink in. They all looked at me, waiting for me to continue. I took a breath.
"We need to upgrade ourselves."
Darius snorted, sipping his drink.
"You mean like what? Cybernetics?"
I shook my head.
"Not just cybernetics. Augmentations of all sorts. I've been looking into it. If we want to be more than just soldiers of fortune with fancy guns, we need to improve our bodies and minds. Med Karash I was too close. Way too close. Airid will be spending his time In a damn wheelchair for a while, I can barely walk without limping and Darius can barely hold his machine gun without his shoulder starting to burn. If we face a stronger enemy next time, we might not be so lucky."
Airid, sitting quietly up to this point, raised an eyebrow.
"So what kind of augmentations are we talking about?"
"Surgical augmentations to disable our pain receptors. Get rid of fear, doubt, hesitation, all the emotional s*it that slows us down in combat just like what you experienced on med karash I, we need to be faster, stronger, and more efficient. If we want to keep fighting and surviving, we need to turn ourselves into something... more than human."
Julian set his drink down, his gaze hardening.
"You're serious."
"Dead serious, the fact Is that humans are at the bottom of the food chain there are bloodthirsty orcs that can rip off an MBTs turret, f*cking space vampire necromancers that can reanimate corpses and all kinds of other galactic horrors straight out of L*vec*aft's pages"
I replied.
"I've found a company that produces gene restructuring serums. They claim it can double a species' physical and mental capabilities. Strength, reflexes, intelligence, all of it. The problem is, it takes time to take full effect. We'll need to train while our bodies adjust to the changes. We'll still be vulnerable for a while."
Paul crossed his arms, his expression thoughtful.
"So what's the plan, then? Augmentations, gene restructuring, what's the next step?"
I tapped the hologram again, shifting the display to a different map.
"While the serums are taking effect, we need to keep working. I've found a system not far from E*rth, the Nihlwing system, one jump away. There are a few investigation missions available there. Low risk, low pay just the kind of jobs we need while we're adjusting to our bodies changes."
Darius leaned forward, his gaze sharp.
"Investigation missions? We're not exactly detectives, Drac."
I smirked.
"Doesn't matter. These jobs don't require much more than boots on the ground and keeping our eyes open. We scope out some derelict stations, track down missing ships something among those lines It's easy money, and it keeps us moving while the serums do their work."
Airid rubbed his chin, deep in thought.
"And what about the augmentations themselves? Are we sure about this? F*cking with our brains and bodies isn't exactly a small thing."
I nodded.
"I've done the research. It's risky, sure. But if we don't do it, we're going to fall behind. Everyone in this galaxy is looking for an edge. We can't afford to be the slowest or the weakest. Not if we want to survive and thrive in this line of work."
Julian raised his bottle.
"I'm in. Let's be honest, we froze upback then If not for Drac we would all be dead so If augmentations give us the edge we need, I say let's do it."
Paul followed suit, raising his bottle too.
"I've trusted you this far, Drac. If you say this is what we need to do, I'm on board."
Darius shrugged, though a grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"F*ck it. I'm in too. If we're doing this, we might as well go all the way."
Airid, still sitting in his wheelchair, sighed and smiled.
"I guess I don't have much of a choice, huh? Let's do it."
I grinned, raising my own drink.
"Good. Then it's settled. We'll schedule the augmentations, stock up on supplies, and head to the Nihlwing system. It's time to turn ourselves into something the galaxy hasn't seen before."
The gang raised their drinks in unison, a sense of determination settling over us. We weren't just space mercenaries anymore.
We were evolving into something stronger, more dangerous. And in this galaxy, we'd need every advantage we could get.
"To the future,"
I said, clinking my bottle with theirs.
"And to Terranum Imperium."
"To Terranum Imperium,"
They echoed, their voices resolute.
This was just the beginning. The galaxy didn't know what was coming.
But they would soon.
...
A few hours later.
We had docked Invicta at one of the Citadel's bays, the airlock hissing open as we stepped into the sterile corridors of the station.
The reality of what we were about to do hung in the air between us, unspoken but heavy. No one made jokes this time.
No banter. We all knew that today was the first step toward turning ourselves into something… other.