Alexander Ginneman was born and raised in Kusari, with his Libertonain father and Kusarian mother. To both his parent's dismay, Alex took after his father in almost every way, displaying very little Kusarian. This led to his almost exclusion from Kusarian society. He still attended the public schools, and socialized well with the children. Their parents stubbornly disallowed him from visiting their homes. He grew up with only his parents and a select few close friends to keep him company. He knew he had practically no future in Kusari. He began to take classes in Common Libertonian, and when he graduated from High School, he took a shuttle to Liberty, to attend their colleges.
While there, however, poor management of his funds led him to run into the negatives, and he began searching for other options to pay his way through college. Liberty Navy ROTC seemed the best option, and he signed up right away.
He was to attend Navy training courses every few days on top of his normal classes, as well as a commitment to additional training when he was out of school. His schooling went past with no issue, and by the time he was 20, he held a Bachelors degree in Engineering and Electronics. He now faced the Navy training that had paid for his schooling.
It was nothing like he had anticipated. It was as if he had entered full-on training camp. His comfortable body fat was evaporated in the first few weeks. Flight drills, physical drills, and coed showers had turned him into something much different. At first he was scoffed at for being one of the most educated people there. But after a year of hard work, Alexander signed up for the Navy full-time. His parents weren't thrilled, and they told him so weekly.
It wasn't until his first sortie that he could second their fears. But it would be far from his first.
What started as a routine patrol through California turned into something much different. Alexander was assigned to wing Iota, given the number three. "This is Iota three, reporting in. We have just passed Objective Alpha, no sign of hostile craft." He said to his wing leader. They were spread out through the Willard ice field, searching for enemy activity.
"This is Iota two, reporting contacts. Three fighter class vessels and a bomber. Silhouette puts them at Lane Hacker class." The squad leader replied, "Roger, Iota two. All squad members, close on Iota two's position and engage hostiles." Alexander pulled his Guardian into a curve, and headed straight for the ensuing combat.
It was a terrifying battle. The enemies were two Sabres, a Bayonet, and Broadsword against three Guardians. The Broadsword went down first. Alex got lucky with a missile blast that caught a Sabre in the side, blasting it's engines to pieces. It drifted silently until it collided with an ice asteroid and was crushed. Then, Alex received warnings that an enemy was behind him and hitting him hard. No matter what he tried, the Bayonet could not be untangled. His shields failed, and his hull began to fry. "Iota three, under heavy enemy fire!" He near-shouted into his communication headset. Too late. His shield began to crumble, and he barely ejected in time. His escape pod popped out of his ship. He tried to thrust away, but the Bayonet came around for another pass, to destroy his pod.
He secured his environment suit, and opened the top of his pod. He launched himself into the vacuum as the enemy vessel destroyed his pod. He drifted into an asteroid and grunted from the force of the impact. His suit had no tears. From his vantage point, he watched the battle slowly shift, and he leaped from asteroid to asteroid to watch it. No sound came through. He assumed his comm unit was broken.
The battle receeded into the mist, and before Alex could launch himself to follow it, the enemy Bayonet came slowly out of the field. It was undoubtedly searching for survivors. It passed him, and that's when he took his chance. He would either die out here in this cold field or take a gamble at living. He launched off of the ice block, sailing towards the ship. He could see the ship preparing to cruise, and he thudded into the ship just as they activated. He sought out hand and foot hold desperately, as the ship gathered speed, he had to balance pulling with his arms, pushing with his legs and holding down his meal. When the ship's speed leveled off, Alexander could loosen his grip slightly. Granted, if he lost it now, he'd be sailing at cruise speed for the rest of his life.
He assumed that the Lane Hacker didn't know he was there, or else there would be a lot more bumps in the ride. He clung grimly on as they sped into another ice field.
After an hour of clinging to the back of the Bayonet, Alex's limbs were sore, and he was about ready to just give up. When they began to decelerate, he could feel himself lurch forward. He used what strength he had left to anchor himself on to the ship, and he could see them approaching a large asteroid base. They sat still for a moment, and Alex assumed that the fighter was giving docking clearance. Sure enough, the dock bay doors opened and they drifted inside.
When they were in, Alex's suit no longer clung to his skin so tightly. There was atmosphere here. He took no time to wait. He removed his suit helmet, which obstructed both his view and his mobility. He threw it off the side of the ship, as they were still a good thousand feet up. He breathed non-recycled air for the first time, and his limbs gained vigor as the ship floated down. He looked around, planning his escape. He figured he cloud just blast his way out. Station shields are usually on the outside, and a base this remote is likely not expecting an attack. The ship settled down on a magnetic landing pad, and he could hear hissing as the ship's cockpit opened. Alex slid off the back and tucked himself in the engines, still quite warm, but out of sight. Soon he was sweating profusely.
He could hear voices, "Old Man Chest Hair wants to see you for debriefing. Better not keep him waiting. We'll take care of your ship for you." Followed by some approaching footsteps. Some clanking and hissing was followed by a slow chug of liquid. He assumed the fighter was being refueled. If he was going to escape, he needed a full fuel tank.
The engines were cooled, but his insulated suit had kept the heat in. At least he wouldn't freeze to death. After the chugging stopped, he figured that now was as good a time as any. He slid out of the engines and crept up on the man who was hauling the fuel line out of the fighter. He had just sealed the fuel port when Alex leapt on the man's back and bound his arms to his sides as Alex snapped his neck. The engineer crumpled, and the fuel line tumbled from his grip, denting the nozzle and spewing H-Fuel all over the ground. Alex used the ladder to haul himself into the cockpit. The controls were different, but not a mystery. A short jury rig later, and the ship activated itself. He had nothing but his environment suit, and hoped dearly that he could radio a rescue op before he suffocated.
He had lifted himself into the air, when his comms blinked on. "Attention, you are lifting off without authorization. Transmit your codes at once." He responded with some measure of smug scorn, "Iota three, Liberty Navy Secondary Fleet." There was a moment's silence before the alarms began to go off in the station. He hauled the fighter up, and he caught the gleam on the landing deck. H-Fuel was spreading all across the ground. He took one shot, and it all ignited at once, the ground covered with fire and smoke.
The turned the fighter up and began to thrust, pointed at the docking doors. He was right, the shields were on the outside. He was able to blast an exit with guns and missiles. Behind him, he saw the fire spread to the H-Fuel containment tanks. As he sailed out through the doors, he could see the station shake. He circled around it, vectored for home, when he saw just what he'd done. The bottom of the station was blasted completely off. Rock chunks sped away from the growing plume of fire. Bodies could be seen, some of them on fire. Lines of fire erupted up the sides as the fuel lines caught. Soon, the rock was stripped away to reveal the metal framework, which too was aflame. He let his fighter float there as the station was disassembled by fire. He saw one escape pod floating slowly away. His finger floated on the missile release system, and slowly, slowly, backed it off.
He turned and flew for home.
Within half an hour, he was within communication range of home. He accessed the Secondary Fleet emergency communications. "Mayday, mayday! This is Iota three, Liberty Navy Secondary fleet! I need a rescue op, now! This fighter doesn't have much air left!"
After a moment, someone responded. "Your authorization codes match Lane Hacker profiles." To which Alex replied, "Yeah, long story. Had to 'jack this fighter and blow the station. I'll tell my entire story in debrief!" The operator responded, "Proceed towards California Minor, and we will intercept you on the way." Alex breathed a sigh. "Thank you. Thank you so much."
Sure enough, he picked up several contacts on the long-range. Two fighters, a heavy lifter, and a gunboat. He flew straight for them. He began transmitting his codes and authorization as soon as they were in range. "Alexander Ginneman, right? Go ahead and eject. We'll take the fighter the rest of the way. Alex replied, "Negative. I've got no environment suit helmet. I can take this thing back home." After a moment's silence, they responded. "Roger that. Let's go."
Alexander was home within an hour and a half. He had found the air tank and had forcibly broken it open, so that he could breathe on the way back. At California Minor, the Dreadnought Willamette was waiting. He docked with it and proceeded immediately to debriefing.
Technology Requisition Form
Technology Requested: "Bayonet" Lane Hacker Heavy Fighter
Reason requested: That fighter is an instrument of my survival. It's the ship that not only almost killed me, but also saved my life. I would also like to be given permission to retrofit it's power grid to fit our weapons. I think that, given enough examination, I could do that. I'll fly that ship- it's a beauty- but to let it keep it's Hellflurries would be.. unwise.
Authorization Code:XXXX-XXX-XXXXXXXX