Date Point: 2Y 08M 1W AV
Unknown location
Sergei Pavlovich Kamarev was a jack of all trades.
The man had worked throughout the years as a mechanic, a publicist, dog barber (a terrible one), computer programmer (even more terrible), gardener, limo driver, interpreter, cook, he even fought in wars.
That’s mainly the reason why when he, already in his fifties, was abducted by little grey men, he couldn’t give a rat’s ass about his predicament. He was simply too old for that shit.
Like many times before, it was the overconfidence of the Corti researchers that was their undoing, and in short order, Sergei Pavlovich was cruising through space on a stolen FTL-capable shuttle.
His existence was pretty damn boring for the next few months.
Going from station to station working odd jobs, getting the grip on galactic social etiquette… Pretty boring indeed.
His change of luck came one day while he was travelling near the contested border between Dominion and Celzi space (he never really cared for all that political nonsense. To him, space was space).
His tiny shuttle was pulled out of warp by a gravity spike, and from his cabin, all he could see was the enormous shape of a Celzi cruiser, getting bigger and bigger as the shuttle was pulled towards the cruiser’s flight deck.
His surprise turned into utter shock when he opened the airlock hatch to step on the flight deck, and he was greeted by… Three humans!
They were all in grey combat gear, carrying what looked like special-purpose assault rifles.
“Well well, what do we have here… Big fella, isn’t he, boys? Hold it right there, comrade. Are you armed?” asked the one in the middle, who appeared to be in charge.
“Just one of these ‘fusion blades’ that the aliens like so much… Wait. You are speaking Russian?!”
“Da. Captain Maxim Alexandrovich Lyapunov, naval Spetsnaz. These knuckleheads here are Lieutenant Igor Ivanovich Kirichenko, and Lieutenant Evgeniy Stepanovich Mironov.” The soldier extended his hand to the stranger with a friendly grin. “May I ask your name?”
“Sergei. Sergei Pavlovich Kamarev. I was a soldier too, you know?” He replied while shaking the other soldier’s hand with an enthusiastic grip.
There was a feathered alien at a safe distance from the four men, who was observing the scene with a disapproving look.
“Really? A soldier, huh? Come with us, we have much to talk about, get you in the loop again” Said Maxim.
“Captain.” interrupted the bird-alien, “We need to debrief this man before letting him onboard my ship. I’m sure you’ll understand.”
“That’s ridiculous. He’s Russian! Come with us, don’t listen to him. Come on! We will share some stories over a bottle of good vodka. Or two!”
Sergei Pavlovich’s eyes lighted up like a Christmas tree and he started following his three fellow countrymen to the mess hall.
“Captain! I must protest! You are disobeying a direct order from your shipmaster!” squeaked the alien.
Nobody gave a shit.
The men sat in one of the mess halls, chilling over a bottle of Russian Standard. They were joined by two other Junior Lieutenants, numbering 6 humans in total.
“So… Mother Russia is taking seriously the conquest of space again?” Inquired Sergei.
“Not quite, comrade. our dear Prime Minister decided we should take advantage of these weak-ass aliens by doing errands for them in exchange for their technology. Basically, we kick the asses of everyone and everything they tell us to. Is fun, really.” Explained Maxim.
“Oh.” Sergei sounded disappointed.
“I know, I know. It’s undignified.” continued the captain. “But that is what we’ve got going for us. I have heard that NATO is experimenting with new prototype spaceships, and the British want to build a colony or something like that. Maybe we will be following suit, I really don’t know. ” Maxim said with a shrug.
“So tell us. You said you are a veteran?”
“Da. Afghanistan, mid ’80s. Not a very pleasant conversation topic.”
“That bad, huh? My father served there, too. tough motherfuckers.”
“You said it.” Replied Sergei.
The older man was getting along with the others like a total bro, and eventually they let him participate in some of their boarding raids, much to the protest of shipmaster Drnkirz.
Old Sergei was in very good shape for his age, and he fought like a complete lunatic. The low gravity was very good in hiding the shortcomings of being middle-aged. He was insanely strong, too.
After some months of morally and professionally questionable fun, the group offered Sergei the chance of returning back to Earth with them.
“Not a chance.” Was his answer.
“What? Why not? Don’t you want to go back to The Motherland?” Inquired Valeriy.
“Not really. It’s fun out here, and I feel younger. I’ve never really had much going on for me back on Earth. No family left, and few friends. Don’t get me wrong, I love my country as much as any of you. But I don’t think this is the time for me to go back.”
“As you wish.” Maxim gave him an understanding nod, the two men carrying more meaning between them through their eyes, than with the exchange of words. Sergei was going to miss proper human body language.
“And what are you planning to do, if i may ask?”
The older man stood in silence for a while, as if contemplating whether or not to share a deep secret.
“Maybe it will sound silly to you, but I’ve always wanted to be an entertainer. Like a big showman, you know? Getting on stage, presenting oddities to the public and putting money on the coffers, off course. Never could do that on Earth. But here? With all those gullible aliens out there? I don’t know, maybe I am crazy, but that’s what I would like to do. I’ve even have spotted a nice place to do it on the navigational computer. A settlement called Beam of Hope inside the Ilrayen band. Six-thousand light years from the nearest civilized outpost. It also says they are like some kind of hippie colony or something. It’s ideal, really.
With these filthy Hunters and their fucking ‘Great Hunt’, a man has to be careful, right? Fucking pricks.” Sergei spat.
“You are quite right. Some day this ‘Hunt’ will end badly for all of them, mark my words” interceded Igor.
“Yeah. Hope so. Can I ask something from you guys, though?” continued the older man.
“Name it.” said Maxim. “Can you give me some weapons before we part ways? I’ve forgotten how good Earth weapons were. And out here, a Makarov might as well be a fucking nuclear bomb.”
“You are kidding me, right? You can take them all for all I care! We can pass it as an operational loss. With the level of success we’ve been having, I don’t think they’re gonna miss some assault rifles and a couple rocket launchers.” Replied Maxim cheerfully.
“Rocket launchers?!” asked Sergei.
Maxim limited himself to a savage grin.
“We can get the shipmaster to make you a faster shuttle, too. This ship has one of those fancy shit-printers or whatever they are called. They can spit a nice shuttle in no time. HEY DRNKIRZ!! Where is that fucking bird?!
The soldiers gave farewells to their comrade, and then Sergei was on his way aboard a brand new senatorial-class Celzi shuttle.
Even in this faster shuttle, it was still a 4 month voyage, and he considered putting himself on stasis for the duration of the trip. But for the time being, he opted to simply relax.
Three months in, his travel was cut short by another gravity spike. This time the view was grimmer: A Hunter Brood Transport, hovering over a Vzk’tk Freighter.
“Looks like it’s time to try out my new toys…” Sergei murmured to himself.