Chapter 151: A Day of Rest and Remembrance 1

Ethan's eyes cracked open to the dim glow of the emergency lights lining the ceiling of his ship's sleeping quarters. For a few seconds, he lay still, his mind caught in that hazy space between sleep and wakefulness. The familiar hum of the ship's power core thrummed softly in the background, steady and constant, a reminder that he was somewhere safe. No alarms. No urgent transmissions. No impending firefights.

Just silence.

He exhaled slowly, letting his head sink deeper into the pillow. His body felt heavy, the kind of weight that came not just from exhaustion but from months of pushing himself past his limits. The bruises and lingering aches from the last battle were still there, dull reminders of the war that had finally ended. It had been so long since he'd woken up without the pressure of another mission hanging over him that, for a moment, he didn't know what to do with himself.

His gaze drifted to the metal ceiling above, where faint marks and worn-out paint told the story of how long this ship had been his home. He tried to remember the last time he'd had a full night's sleep without the constant threat of an attack or preparing battle plans. He couldn't.

Eventually, he let out a quiet sigh and forced himself to sit up, groaning slightly as his muscles protested. Swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, he ran a hand through his hair, ruffling it absently. His boots sat neatly by the bedside, an old habit, always ready to move at a moment's notice. But today, there was nowhere to run, no enemy to chase, no orders to follow. Just a ship, a quiet morning, and time he didn't quite know how to spend.

After a long pause, he stood, rolling out his shoulders as he made his way toward the small kitchen area of the ship. The metal floor was cool beneath his feet, and the air carried the faint, sterile scent of the ship's recycled oxygen. As he passed by the cockpit, the instrument panels glowed faintly, the AI core running in standby mode.

He reached the kitchenette, opening one of the overhead compartments and pulling out a small container of Velka Root Brew. An alien drink he'd grown used to in this sector. It wasn't quite coffee, but it had the same effect, a strong earthy bitterness with a slight spice to it. He set a cup under the ship's compact brewer, watching as the dark liquid poured out, steam curling into the air.

As he took his first sip, the warmth spread through him, chasing away the last remnants of sleep. He leaned against the counter, letting his eyes drift toward the cockpit window. Outside, the docking bay lights cast long shadows across the ship's hull, the faint hum of maintenance drones filling the distance.

For the first time in a long while, he allowed himself to just stand there, drinking his Velka Root Brew with no rush, no urgency. Just a moment of peace.

Ethan took another slow sip of the Velka Root Brew, letting the rich, slightly spicy bitterness coat his tongue. The warmth spread through his chest, waking him up properly. He leaned back in the pilot's chair, gazing out through the cockpit's reinforced viewport. The docking bay stretched beyond, a cavernous space filled with the distant hum of maintenance drones flitting between docked ships like mechanical insects. The occasional glint of welding torches flickered in the dim artificial light, illuminating the bay's towering walls of metal and reinforced alloys.

This was one of the rare times in months he could simply sit, without the pressure of a looming mission or a last-minute briefing pulling him away. No alarms, no gunfire, no desperate tactical calls over comms. Just quiet.

The holoscreen in front of him pulsed with notifications. Dozens of messages awaited his attention. Some flagged as urgent by his AI, others as simple check-ins. He exhaled and set his cup down on the console, fingers hovering over the interface before finally pulling up the highest-priority transmission.

A formal-looking Mercenary Guild notice materialized in front of him, its interface sleek and minimalistic.

 Congratulations, Ethan Walker. Your promotion to C-Rank has been approved.

 As a C-Rank mercenary, you are now officially recognized as an elite member of the Guild, eligible for higher-tier contracts, better resource access, and priority mission selections.

 Please confirm your acceptance and update your current operational status.

Ethan smirked slightly. C-Rank, huh? It was a step up, a mark of survival and skill, but after everything he'd endured, the title felt like an afterthought. Still, it was a necessary step if he wanted to keep his options open.

He tapped the screen, acknowledging his acceptance.

 Acknowledgment Received. Status Updated.

Then came the next task, informing the Guild that he wouldn't be staying here much longer. Ethan opened a new message draft.

 To: Orion Federation Mercenary Guild – Valeris Branch

 Subject: Status Update & Departure Notice

 I confirm my promotion to C-Rank. Effective within the next cycle, I will be departing for a more central sector of the Orion Federation to finalize the promotion process. Valeris has been… eventful, but it's time to move forward.

 Ethan Walker

He sent the message off, watching the notification flicker before vanishing from his queue. That was one major task handled.

Now for the rest. He shifted in his chair, calling up the backlog of personal messages. These were from the people who had fought beside him, the ones who had made it out alive. Some names were absent, a grim reminder of how many hadn't.

One by one, he opened each message, their senders scattered across Kynara, each dealing with the war's aftermath in their own way.

Eliara (D-Rank mercenary hacker & dual pistol fighter)

 "Glad to see you're back on your feet, Ethan. You had us worried for a while. Things are a mess here, cleanup ops in ex-Syndicate territory are slower than expected. Too many power vacuums, too many opportunists crawling out of the shadows. Wish I could swing by, but duty calls. Keep in touch."

Ethan typed a quick reply:

 "Figured you'd be in the thick of things. Keep your head down out there. If you need backup, you know where to find me."

Zyrix (D-Rank mercenary sniper)

 "Walker. Good to hear you pulled through. We're stabilizing the outlying settlements. Long process, but it's better than open war. We and the people remember what you did. Stay safe, and don't go vanishing on us again."

Ethan smirked and responded.

 "No promises. Keep those settlements safe, and make sure no one gets the drop on you."

Malek (E-Rank mercenary scout)

 "Ethan! Damn, man, I heard you nearly got yourself killed. Again. I'm on contract elsewhere, but wanted to say I'm glad you made it. Drinks are on me next time we cross paths."

Ethan chuckled and tapped out a reply.

 "I'll hold you to that. Stay sharp, Malek."

Rourke and Kara (E-Rank mercenary veterans - civilian transport duty)

 "Kynara's got a long road ahead, but we're making progress. Evacuating displaced civilians has been… draining. Wish we had more ships, more supplies. But at least they're alive. You did good, Ethan. Me and Kara thought you should hear that."

Ethan leaned back, staring at the message for a moment before responding.

 "You're doing the real work, Rourke. If you and Kara need anything, just say the word."

Thalor (E-Rank mercenary bounty hunter)

 "You survived. Good. That's all I have to say."

Ethan smirked.

 "Nice to know you care, Thalor."

Marik Vos (New Resistance Leader, successor to Joran Kren)

 "Ethan. I wish I could say this in person, but things are… difficult. Joran's absence is felt in every decision I make. The Resistance is holding, but barely. I owe you more than I can put into words. For now, I'll just say: Thank you. For everything."

Ethan hesitated before typing.

 "You'll do right by him, Marik. Lead well. And if you ever need an extra gun, you know where to find me."

Lirien Vossel (Temporary Federation Guard Captain)

 "Walker, I won't waste time. The Federation Guard is stretched thin, but we're holding. Your actions tipped the balance here. That won't be forgotten. Safe travels."

Ethan's reply was brief.

 "Appreciate it, Captain. Keep the peace out there."

By the time he finished going through the last message, the cup of Velka Root Brew was empty, the warmth in his chest replaced with the heavy weight of responsibility.

These people were still out there, fighting to hold together what they had bled for. And here he was, preparing to leave.

He sighed, rubbing his temples. This had taken most of the morning, and part of the afternoon. His mind felt drained, his muscles stiff from sitting too long.

A faint rumble in his stomach reminded him of something simple, something human. He was hungry.

He pushed himself up from the chair, stretching before grabbing his jacket. He'd been locked inside his ship long enough. Time to get some fresh air, maybe find a decent meal.

With that, he stepped toward the exit ramp, leaving behind the quiet hum of the ship and walking into the world outside.