"A Dream Unrealized"

[KaelanFrey]

Spare clothes, pills, gun, toothbrush, all checked. The only thing that his backpack couldn't fit was his unusually fortified helmet - ah, "C" would be flying away tonight, so it only made sense to have it sturdily acquainted with his head. Though he preferred Velvet's standard issue, he decided to leave it behind on a desk at IA as the sole notice of his departure, abandoning his codename "White", as it was inscribed, for good; a bitter move for someone hardly known for boldness.

A stream of recollection flooded "C"'s mind as he got closer and closer to the hangar. What could be his final walk through the cold and flickering corridors of Freeport 11 drew memories of the troubles he escaped from back in Bretonia, since in a way, this was a second escape for him; this time, however, no one was pursuing him, as no one had framed him. This time, he failed to find purpose in his work, which was entirely his fault for not realizing the fragile state of humanity, which was struggling to put up either one of two fists against the Nomads, no matter how much he fought or wished for. While his fervor to destroy the alien menace was still burning hot, he certainly would not satisfy it in Velvet or the Omicrons.

Approaching the hangar where his old fighter, an Arrow-class interceptor, was neatly parked, warmed up and ready to go, he remembered his old gig as that one crazy person commandeering a soaring paper-thin, super fast hyper napalm bomb of a ship, one that could ideally cover a great deal of the Sirius sector without as much as a stop for refueling. He loved that darned thing, so much that it almost never got a scratch. Efficiently dangerous for its pilot at least, and "C" would need it to move out of the Omicrons to search for a new life, but not before making a stop at Bethlehem to procure some new parts for his baby's armaments, which were starting to rust.

At last, the moment had come. Stepping into the hangar with a frown and a gulp, uncertain of what lied ahead of him and disappointed at his tenure, his mood sharply brightened once he had Joshua and Onyx, his former colleagues in Velvet that were also on their way, in his line of sight. "...the picture, the Brits can screw themselves." He smiled, approaching the posse while jokingly asking: "The brits can wot', Onyx?"