All of my Yesterdays

[Maria]

- - All of my Yesterdays - -

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A good place to die, if anything. Being dragged by Razgriz to the end of it all. Days and days I have passed looking at it, while patrolling Corsica, following Jameson's orders to the letter. We were a different breed back then. A strong one, a staunch one. And after Jameson disappeared, after he become a true Ghost, most of us broke away. As I am about to.

The 101st. Once the pinnacle, the pride and fury of the Outcast Nacion was brought to shame by the political machinations of a delusional woman, thinking that the past gave power, not actions. Fool. Actions was what made the 101st. Day by day in the Taus and in the Omicrons. Day by day, war and blood. And after this old Sabre, still with the ID codes of my treasured memories, crossed the Phi fighting off everything thrown at its way, I am finally done. I am done with my yesterdays. The inertia of a dead engine and the pull of Razgriz are to be my last companions, my last voyage.

And yet, fate decides to flip a coin to ruin my last hour. An asteroid, big as a dreadnought is fighting the pull still and stops me on my tracks. Denied of my last wish. How did I came to this? Fighting for the Nacion for years, to be lost for more, to fight for survival as a mere mercenary and to kill as a Reaver. Even then fate always stopped me on my tracks. I have spent all my money, I have spent all my favors and I have spent all my strength to reach this point. To be denied of my last want. Minutes tick by, and the pull tries to grasp the Sabre but it fails to do so. Systems are red through and through. Engines are dead, guns destroyed, life support failing. I am to be another mummy lost in space, clutching the controls of my ship. But shadow emerges, its cannons ripping apart the asteroids around so its big hulking form can move through the shreds of Razgriz. And it stops in front of me, turrets trailing my Sabre, beckoning its sweet release. Death is coming by fire then. I close my eyes waiting for my yesterdays to decide me at last. The sins of being a ghost.

But no. Another pull exists. The pull of a heavy tractor beam, maneuvering my ship carefully to it's small bay. And as new air fills my lungs, my eyes watch a new form. The form of a man. Prideful, staunch, leading. A man I can follow again. Niccolò di Lupia, a mercenary captain, bred in battle, intelligent by necessity and seemingly devious for a cause. His cause and his alone. And after this conversation, after saying all of my yesterdays to him, my cause as well.

I am Eva Santos. I am Maria de Santangelo. I am Umber.

I am Serenissima.

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