05-16-2013, 01:12 PM
Tolls of War
Planet Coralin, Zelenia System, 921 ASThe air on planet Coralin was sweet on the senses. Not like Planet Manhattan, where the air smelled of Dirt, Pollution, and Decay. Alistair raised his eyes to the violet hued clouds above and breathed in. In 20 years, he couldn’t remember the last time he felt such tranquility. After two wars, his brain seemed to only comprehend the scent of blood, burning plasmids, and death. Yet moments after stepping onto the cool blue grass of Coralin, all of those things seemed to fade into distant memory. He raised one hand to his eyes, attempting to shield it from the Zelenia System’s two suns. His eyes drifted from the clouds to the white-leafed trees that peppered the horizon. ‘No time to stop and smell the roses’ he thought to himself as he turned towards the exit to the main dock of the Corhal Expeditionary Compound. There was business to be done to prepare for the coming battles against the Valkari and his ship was in shambles. He looked back at the Eagle Mk III, glistening gold against the tangerine colored sky. The left wing was burnt and torn apart and the thrusters were mangled. It was amazing the damn thing still flew. The vessel had definitely seen better days.
He turned back towards Corhal and made his way towards the double iron doors that separated it from the outside docking pad. As he approached, a small droid rolled up and stopped in front of Alistair. “Welcome to CEC, May I see your Credentials?” the robot quirked in a robotic monotone that was unfitting compared to more modern droids. Alistair pulled out his Neuro-pad and allowed the droid to scan it. The droid made a few beeping noises before replying. “Welcome Master Sergeant Commodore, What services do you require today?” Alistair looked down at the droid and smirked, “Ship repair, quarters, and access to the Sustenance Hall”. The droid made a few more beeps and whirs. “Granted, Proceed to Quarters 7B, The Sustenance Hall is in the South Wing” The droid turned and rolled back towards the building, unlocking the double doors. Alistair slung his bag over his shoulder and made his way to his quarters.
He watched as six men dressed in casual mechanics garb made their way out to his ship, passing him as he entered the main chamber of the institute. He turned back and looked around the large vaulted room before making his way to the west wing where the quarters were located. Everything seemed so calm planetside compared to the chaos that was taking place in space just hours before. His mind drifted to the battle that had taken place. The swarms of Volkari ships, the screams of his wingmen as their ships were turned to burning scrap before plunging into Coralin’s atmosphere. The countless enemy ships he turned his guns on and fired until they were nothing but scrap themselves. And here it seemed as though no battle had even happened. He turned down the hall that led to the B quarters, locating room seven and using his Neuro-pad to gain access. The calm of the room was almost spooky yet soothing. Alistair dropped his bag by the bed and sat down, suddenly feeling nauseated. His head ached from the stress. How much war could one man take before it literally tore him to shreds from the inside out. Alistair felt like death would be welcomed with open arms, that if he died in the next battle, It would be a relief. Through the nausea his stomach growled, reminding him that he needed to eat. He opened his bag and popped two anti-depressants before getting up and heading out to the Sustenance Hall.
Rinoa slumped back in her chair as she watched the training hologram. Only two weeks into her recruitment into the Liberty Navy and she was already bored as hell. Watch this video, go to this class, read this, read that. When was she going to get to the fun stuff like flying a Star Fighter and fighting the Volkari. She sighed, listening to the hologram tell her things she already knew.
“The Volkari are an aggressive alien race that invaded the galaxy back in 901 AS, just after Liberty’s expeditionary forces discovered and colonized the Zelenia system. They have successfully forced their way into the system and have taken the planets Malzaphin and Annalyn from the LEF. Currently they battle against the LEF and LN forces in an attempt to invade the planets Coralin and Teranoire. So far the Volkari have been unsuccessful in their attempts.”
Rinoa’s mind drifted and she thought about her home on Annalyn, Now a burning shell of its former glory. She hated the Volkari with everything she had and couldn’t wait to exact revenge on her home, her parents, and her husband and daughter. All of which were lost when the Volkari invaded Annalyn, destroying everything in their path only to set up their own colony, using it as a military base of operations to push further into the system. Stupid hologram, this junk wasn’t important. She wanted to get into space. To fly with the Liberty Navy and destroy as many of those walking alien dirt bags she could. She reached over and turned off the hologram before it concluded and got up from her chair.
“Sir, I have finished reviewing all of the required training material” Rinoa didn’t care much for lying but she did it to save her the agony from boredom. Admiral Gleeson smiled at her. “Alright then, Cadet. I suppose your jumping at a chance to get in space aren’t you?” “Yes sir, I was born ready” Rinoa threw up a hasty salute and a smile. The Admiral smirked at the cadets eagerness “I will have the orders drawn up for your first assignment by tomorrow morning, you did well enough on your tests and pilot evaluation. Now we see how you do in real combat.” Rinoa wanted to jump up and hug the man but she knew better than break her professionalism. Instead she nodded her approval, saluted the admiral again and turned to head back to her quarters.
“Incoming Transmission” Alistair turned his gaze to his Neuro-pad on the table at his side. The screen flashed and he pressed a button to view the new message.
“Master Sergeant Commodore, This is Admiral Gleeson, I am sending a new Cadet your way in the morning. Her name is Rinoa Adelle. This is her first active combat mission and I want you to look out for her. She was promising during the training program but I fear she may be a bit reckless. It is your duty to make sure that she doesn’t do anything that will be of hindrance in our objectives. Admiral Gleeson out.”
As if stress wasn’t high enough, now Alistair was given the task of babysitting a Cadet. He got up from the table and tossed the remaining contents of his food tray into the waste receptacle. He headed back to his room. His brain drifted back to the battle of Annalyn, watching as the colonists were burned alive as Alistair and his men retreated to space. Gazing down upon the capital colony of Reinhold as its towers fell in a cloud of fire, ash, and debris. Alistair’s legs trembled and he almost lost his balance. He didn’t know how much more of this war his mind could take. He knew he should get himself checked out by a medic but he was afraid he would be medically discharged before the war was over. Reaching his room, Alistair unlocked the door and made his way inside. He removed his pistol belt and boots and slumped down onto the bed. Try as he might to clear the images of war from his head, he couldn’t. They haunted him, even in sleep.
He awoke to his Neuro-pad beeping next to him. The new message was an automated one telling him his ship repairs were complete and Cadet Adelle had arrived and was awaiting orders. He had over-slept. He quickly got up and put on his boots and pistol belt, smoothed out his hair and headed for the main lobby. There he found a young girl, probably no older than 24, in LN uniform waiting for him. “You must be Cadet Adelle?” Alistair tried to mask the grogginess in his voice. The girl turned and immediately saluted “Cadet Adelle, Reporting to Squadron 9, Sir.” Alistair frowned at her before replying “First off, don’t salute me. I’m no officer. Second, don’t call me ‘Sir’ because, again, I am not an officer. You can call me Master Sergeant Commodore or if that’s too much for you, you can just call me Alistair.” Rinoa looked at Alistair quizzically. “Alright, uh, Alistair. Where is the rest of the squadron? Are they already at breakfast? I’m pretty hungry.” Alistair turned around and gave Rinoa a blank and solemn stare. “You’re looking at what’s left of Squadron 9. I will brief you on the way to breakfast, Come on.” He turned away from the girl and started walking. Rinoa reluctantly followed close behind. “Alright, the mission today is not going to be easy. We are rendezvousing with squadrons 4, 7,13, and 18 just outside Annalyn Orbit. Our job is to distract Volkari strike forces so the LEF can dropship a small team planetside to locate and evacuate any remaining survivors that could still be in Renhold. Once they are on the ground we stand guard in low orbit and await orders for extraction. Understand?” Rinoa nodded. “Alright get something to eat and meet me on the main dock in 1 hour.” There was an exasperation in Alistair’s voice that made him sound like a tired old man. He turned and left as Rinoa entered the Sustenance Hall.
Sweat ran from Rinoa’s palms to her wrists as she gripped the Avengers controls. She was locked into formation with Alistair’s Eagle Mk III and she wondered how he was allowed to fly a civilian manufactured Fighter. ‘He’s a Master Sergeant and a war hero, He can do whatever the hell he wants’ she thought to herself. Her nerves were trying to get the best of her but she held onto her resolve. She looked down at her Nav system. Only 40k away from Annalyn, Her home, Where her old life ended and her new one began. She breathed deeply, trying to bate the shaking in her hands. “This is it” her voice quivered. 20k out now. She watched as the other squadrons flew in and joined into tactical formation with her and Alistair. Her comms sprung to life with the voices of the other squad leaders. “Squadron 4 formed up”, “Squadron 7 formed up” another more husky voice, “Squadron 13 formed up” and after a few seconds she heard a female voice, “Squadron 18 formed up”. They were all here. 42 ships in all. She looked up to see they were only 10k from Annalyn. Suddenly her Targeting systems went haywire. “We have Volkari warships on scanner, 30, 50, 60 targets locked.” Rinoa looked up to see a swarm of Volkari ships and they were headed right for them.
Alistair stared at the incoming enemy ships. Outnumbered again, this was not going to go as planned. “Engage hostile targets” he spoke into his comm system, his voice cracked and stressed. He tried to control his hands from shaking but his nerves were getting the best of him. His mind began to flash images of other battles and his whole body trembled. He was having a nervous breakdown. He tried the best he could to maneuver his ship and he jerked the controls around. He had to get out of here. He gasped for air but couldn’t find any. His body trembled violently as panic sunk in. He grasped the emergency respirator and held it to his mouth only to vomit all over it. He quickly engaged his cruise system and took off in the opposite direction of the firefight. Rinoa’s voice blared over his comms “Alistair? Master Sergeant Commodore? Where are you…… COME BACK! AAAHHH!!!” there was static as Rinoa’s ship was destroyed. “Get out, Get out, You have to Get Out!” Alistair’s Mind screamed at him. He set a waypoint for Coralyn and fainted.
Alistair lay on the bed of his quarters, head in his hands. His eyes were wet with tears and he sobbed. He had abandoned them. His career was over and he would probably be charged with war crimes. And yet, his mind could only hear the screams of his fellow pilots as they were slaughtered by the overwhelming Volkari ships. Alistair undid the pistol from his belt holster. Abandoned them, Treason on multiple accounts, and all of their lives were lost because of him. It was his duty to order retreat but he couldn’t. He couldn’t even breathe. He couldn’t speak after the panic attack had taken hold. His Neuro-pad had gone off several times since he had returned to Coralyn but he ignored it. He knew what the messages said. You abandoned them. You’re a Traitor. We’re going to kill you for what you have done. Alistair gripped the pistol tightly as his mind raced. His entire life began to flash before his eyes. He began to pull memories from his childhood. His mother, Violet, who cared for him and nurtured him his entire life until he was old enough to join the Navy. His father Buster, whom he hadn’t seen since he was 8. His first ship, the Eagle Mk III that he still flew, a gift from some woman named Pita who was a friend of the family. His first girlfriend, His first kiss. And then Rinoa, screaming for him to come back. He put the pistol to his temple, and pulled the trigger.