Duty, 8: Scars of a Warrior
09 May 2022Meowers
Yeah, finally! We've gotten ourselves promoted today! Our wing is now a fully-fledged AX wing, not a bunch of trainees and their teacher. Received an AXDF Pilot patches for the uniform and they look awesome, I even caught myself thinking about taking a walk around the carrier at last, hah. Each of us rookies had more than ten personal kills under the belt, and over twenty assisted kills. We did a fine job out there, especially under the circumstances of raised Thargoid activity.
Or I shouldn't call myself a rookie after turning that goddamn Medusa into a shower of smelly pieces? Am I an AX pilot now, like, completely? Ha, stop. My patches say I'm an AX pilot. Screw you, impostor syndrome, hah.
And... Well... Khm. Can I do some bragging? Can I, huh? I'll be a wing leader soon. AXDF will assign another pilot to our wing and Joseph will return to his job, training other rookies when they arrive. Until then, I'll be leading the wing with him teaching me how to do this in a right way. And some advanced tactics. Also, have to say, he told me that my electric attack trick was something from a berserker repertoire, hah.
Joseph... He was looking pretty distant. That's strange. You know, when you're an instructor, leaving another wing to fly on their own should be a kind of routine, like a teacher sees the graduation of their class. But something... It was hard to describe. I've asked him what's happening, and he just shrugged and said that I shouldn't worry. Anyway, distant or not, we still had to do our job. Leading the wing, I've noticed that Thargoid presence had decreased drastically, we were ordered to commence the patrol on our own, without other wings covering our green arses, and the sensors were empty for most of the time. That's odd. Fights were rare, most of the signals were false alarm, but I'll tell you about one of the actual encounters.
It was a transport convoy, ours, AXDF supply detachment. A few T-9's and T-7's and a pair of heavy Lakon Challengers against a bunch of Cyclopes and Basilisks. Those folks were confident and already reduced five Thargoids to piles of dust, but they were running low on ammo and still badly outnumbered, unable to shake all alien freaks away from the transports. So we had to finish the enemies off and stay with the convoy until it reaches our carrier.
Thargoids still focused their fire on transports, so we had no freedom to fire at will. Transports were armed with Gauss cannons as well, giving us a bit of support, but they were already low on ammo too. Can't say it was as dangerous as it may sound, however... When we were done, leaving another seven green clouds with Thargoid debris floating in the void, one of the transports moved close to me. A damaged T-9, with several hull breaches, a smoke trail from one of the engines and a shattered canopy. So, when it came closer, its pilot opened the private comm channel, using the suit comms.
"I will never forgive you. But, for that, thanks."
Then the transport returned to the formation... Hm... There was some interference, but the female voice was somehow familiar... Was it Melissa? Maybe.
No overtime work this day. We returned to the Atlas after eight hours of patrolling, went to the mess, then again to our ships to spend another eight hours on a standby, all that stuff... A perfect moment to actually enjoy the zero gravity on the carrier, set up some relaxing music, have a can of warm coffee and a cigarette, and just float around with my eyes closed, floating in the thoughts at the same time.
And this strange thing... I never missed my old place in Komotae. So, a bit of self-observation, looks like the location meant nothing, be it Atlas or Bluford Station, I just needed a place where I can land and... relax a bit, lower my guard without becoming vulnerable. You know, constant vigilance is quite tiring. The only remaining connection with Komotae were those remote therapy sessions. Even thought that I don't want to return even if I was given a chance to magically teleport there and then back to the Pleiades. It wasn't because Bluford was 'bad'... It just meant nothing to me. I don't need a specific view around me, be it a station or a city, I need a little place to be in it. Alone. Like Marshmallow. This is my place that I made for myself.
My introspections were interrupted by a comm system bleep, it was a private channel... Joseph told he wants to see me aboard his ship to have a talk, at any convenient time, it wasn't a 'commander's order'. And I had nothing to do anyway, so, another coffee and cigarette and I went to his Krait. Joseph was... Yeah, still distant. He told me he voted for promoting me instead of assigning an experienced pilot to lead our wing, under his own responsibility. Shown the video footage of my actions to the officers and they agreed. So, he also told me one thing...
"I know, you are a warrior," he said. "There's something in your eyes... That only another warrior could see."
I leaned against the wall and put my head down. So... Why not to tell him about everything? About who I am and what kind of war I wage?.. I've told him about that morning in the bar on Bluford, when I saw the speech video. About my past attempts to make this Galaxy a better place, about my searches for a place for myself. About the searches for my soul, for the place where I truly belong. And my current thoughts, like I finally found it here. I should be here. And do this job, being a faceless and silent part of the force, force that keeps humanity safe. Also told him a bit more about my past, and... Yeah... About my PTSD. There's no point in keeping it secret forever.
He nodded silently, sat in the pilot seat and told me his story, just... Looking forward through the canopy glass, like he was piloting.
It happened several years ago, during the Second Thargoid War, before I got my pilot's licence. Two AXDF wings were returning from a battle, they already lost two ships, it was six of them and Joseph wasn't a wing leader those days. And they got ambushed, responding to the distress call on their way. Pilot of the attacked transport reported about three Cyclopes, so it wasn't dangerous at all, but then, like it happened recently, they were starting to appear from everywhere. With a Hydra in the lead. The most deadly type of Thargoid interceptors.
Two wings of already damaged ships were decimated in a mere minutes, one by one. The Thargoids were destroying the ships and then shooting at the escape pods, killing our pilots. Joseph was piloting an AXDF Lakon Chieftain, he managed to kill two of them, but... Too many Thargoids were against them that day. Hearing the first internal explosions, he went to the escape pod, but the release mechanism was damaged and he stuck on his ship that was falling apart in flames. Thankfully, the reinforced bulkheads saved him from the final explosion, and the Thargoids couldn't spot his pod in the debris. Being the only survivor of the attack, he lost his good friends that day.
Joseph heard the last part of this story when he woke up in the hospital. The pod saved his life, but nonetheless he was badly wounded. So now he has a cardiac implant, and the shutdown fields or electric attacks from the larger types of Thargoids, Medusas and Hydras, can possibly become fatal for him. However, he turned down a retirement offer and AXDF officers gave him an instructor position.
Then he stopped talking... I guessed it was a minute of silence for his fallen friends.
Our talk ended with him telling me that AXDF Command decided to make a preventive move in case of a Thargoid attack, they thought this spike of activity was a reconnaissance operation of sorts, and, facing the strong resistance here, they could attack from another direction. We, along with two other wings, one anti-Interceptor and one anti-Scout, got an assignment to bolster the defences of one of the settlements on the other side of the 'buffer zone'. They had their own forces, but we were needed to provide our assistance both in case of an attack and with instructing their pilots, organising the supply lines and making their defences better in general. Our wing will start with three ships and then a fourth pilot will join us a bit later. Until then, we have a pair of days to prepare.
Uh... I'm a wing leader now. I guess I should go and give my first orders to the folks.
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Me and Marshmallow. Patrolling the warzone.