You lie awake on an uncomfortable just-too-firm bed, exhausted (as always) yet too excited to sleep. Real excitement, the kind you haven’t felt in many years, it was finally happening tomorrow. Idly toying with the dog tags strung around your neck, one an old name with ID number & the other near brand new with a rank. “John Edgar, Master rank in the Imperial Navy Auxiliary” you mouth silently. They remind you of the brutal society you were born into and the lucky chance you were given to change your lot in life simultaneously.

The Empire. A glorious galactic superpower who’s reach continues to grow, boasts an astounding standard of living to the universe, with cutting edge technology that allows it to maintain military strength and economic power. Hypocrisy, blatant lies built on slave labor churned into fuel for the wealthy, you sneer bitterly thinking about it. You were born a slave, a destiny of toil & a short life. However, the unexpected invasion by the vile Thargoid forces offered a change of fate.

The military of the Empire, as well as most things that wield power, was tied to the wealthy noble houses. It’s highest ranks almost always filled with the 2nd and 3rd heirs of such-and-such to bring more prestige to the family name. Always commanding from massively protected back line command vessels, the power of their arms making up for their inept skills. You laugh thinking of a few choice members of House Tullstance, who once came to give a seminar on fleet logistics to you and other cadets in training. They probably couldn’t aim even a fixed frag cannon to save their life, heh. God you’re bitter. You let it go and think of the accomplishments you had and the plans you’ve almost completed, something to calm you and hopefully get some rest.

You, a slave, were offered a choice. Exhausted from recent conflicts with the Federation and other minor factions, the Imperial Navy lost many ships and many men. Ships could be constructed quickly, far faster than nobles or commoners with skills could replace the men. This is when the xeno invasions began. Nigh unheard-of, due to the extreme threat and timing of these attacks, parliament issued a temporary ordinance allowing the transition of slaves into 2nd class commoners given they join the Navy immediately and passed basic training (the owners would be compensated, of course). You took that opportunity, not a second thought.

Initially it was thousands of times better than your previous life, danger of death & heavy hours included. Soon it was clear though, the higher-ups in the military had no intention of promoting previous slaves to any high ranks, intending to forever use them as fodder. You were good though, real good, and you found what you were made for. Soon you had a plan, you were going to move yourself forward in life and prove to the military that even slaves deserve respect, something you hoped would change how every slave was treated. You had a salary now, low for your rank, but it and the right to own property was yours. You pulled off missions’ people couldn’t ignore and made the rank of Master, the highest rank pre-slaves have ever been afforded. This meant more pay & the right to buy an Imperial Currier to own for personal use.

You know that ship, that’s the one you always fly when on patrol and as an escort for higher officers. You know exactly what it can do, how to improve it, how to fly it better than anyone. You’ve spent all your salary on renting a private garage, buying a heavily-used retired ship, repairing it, and tweaking far past anyone with money would care to do before just buying a bigger ship. That’s why you sleep on a stiff bed, in a small room, and are always exhausted from taking extra patrol runs. Today’s the day you got the last part you needed & its test flight was perfect. It’s ready, you’re ready. Tomorrow, on the first day off you’ve given yourself in a month, you’re taking it out to the current Thargoid warfront.

You haven’t been authorized as a civilian to be there, there will be repercussions. However, this sector is in a bad way, they’ve been pushed back by newer ship variants never seen before, unable to kill a single one. You’ve studied these ships during your off hours with the information given to all military personnel engaged in this conflict, certain it’s doable if someone simply quit relying on long range weaponry and billion credit shielding like cowards. You’re going to join and take one out solo, since no one will listen, in a ship the noble elites would sooner scrap than dare set foot inside. Tomorrow’s the day a slave kills an unkillable Thargoid variant & the nobles will be forced to acknowledge the fact that slave can do anything as well as anyone else. You’ll get a promotion & respect… or a court martial death sentence. Either way, you’ll have done something meaningful with your life other fill the pockets of the wealthy, and you’re too damn excited to sleep.