Rekindling
29 Jul 2016Ryan Murdoc
"In everyone's life, at some time, our inner fire goes out. It is then burst into flame by an encounter with another human being. We should all be thankful for those people who rekindle the inner spirit." Albert SchweitzerTime has it's own rules. When you're having fun, it's moving so quickly you don't believe it. When the opposite is the case, it either doesn't seem to move at all, or at the pace of a intoxicated Verrix, which isn't a good example or something anyone should witness. The outcome is smelly regardless of what end you're looking at.
I am attempting to put what happened in the last five months into words, starting with the time I was removed as Squadron Leader by my own request. It was to avoid losing an argument with Wing Commander Veyder's sidearm pointing directly at my head, shouting and asking how the hell I survived the destruction of my ship and all the rest of it.
I told him what I knew, or would've if certain restrictions in my head wouldn't have prevented me. He didn't get the full extent of the predicament I was in, but he heard enough to not pull the trigger. I knew perfectly well that if anything suspicious would be going on with me, or if I'd be found harming my fellow Wingmates or simply falling out of line in any imaginable way, there'd be a bullet with my name on it.
After a short while, I was reintroduced into the Wing as Senior Wingman, to keep me from a key position where I would've had access to vital parts of the Legion's network and intel. But since there wasn't much of a explanation given to the lower ranks as of why exactly this was done, and since I regained my honor due to the public execution, people were unhappy and started to voice that towards Veyder. As a result I was reinstated as Squadron Leader in the 1st Spectre Division where trading and mining was conducted.
Shortly after, I equipped the Umbra Vorago for Mining and left Phiagre, away from those I cared for most. To Bhare, Yan Musu, and other darker places I went, searching for the tranquility of the void. Out there, I couldn't harm anyone but myself. All the while I was out there, I was hoping that soon the decryption of the Data stick that I left in CMDR Reykurs hands would help to uncover whatever was going on.
Ghost Legion has SOTA (State-of-the-Art) equipment at hand, the latest in military technology to be obtained through means legal or otherwise. None of the cache was helping to solve the puzzle quicker. The coding and everything was nothing anyone ever saw before, one of the people tasked with it was overheard saying "It's easier to work yourself through Olympus Mons with a ancient pickaxe..."
For a month they uncovered and disabled every potential countermeasure, set to infect or destroy the stick if tampered with. After that time, they had that problem out of the way, or so they hoped. Siphoning through the data packages stored was still slow though, but at least a few interesting bits and pieces were discovered. None of which gave any idea to who used me as a guinea pig for their experiments, but the term Nanorobotics was used quite often. Not that that would explain everything, but it gave a good lead. It also gave me chills, knowing I've had little robots inside of me floating about.
CMDR Reykur sent me all the information gathered so far via encrypted data packages, but I grew tired of scooting around. No contact or attempt to take me over happened in all the time, so either they were toying around with other things or lay in wait. Perhaps they were dead and gone by some terrible accident, which would've saved me the hassle to find them. But there's no such thing as luck regarding evil schemes and the likes, one always has to find the perpretrators and blow enough holes into them to finish the job for good.
After five months flying about in the bubble I finally returned to Greeboski's Outpost. I was taken aback at how big the Station had grown, and feeling both very proud and humbled at the same time. It was a complete overhaul compared to how it looked in the past.
There were many new faces about within the Wing, and I tried my best to be someone to remember in a good way. With some this might've worked... who knows... though my type of humor isn't easy to handle at times, nor my still developing personality. Since the latest alterations I have more in common with a malfunctioning power plant that could blow up any given moment but sends satisfying data feeds to it's surroundings. Something to that extent.
Having one of my downer phases, I was scanning the traffic going to and from the station one day down at the docks, as my eyes latched onto a incoming FDL. It probably was the golden paintjob that made me watch. and while I did, my feet set themselves into motion by their own accord. Briefly I had the thought that just now they would take over again, but there was nothing happening in my brain to confirm my suspicions and fear in that direction. It was just a urge to welcome the pilot within and offer a drink after a long time out in space.
When I arrived at the pad where the FDL had set down, the docking crew did their best to make sure the ship was tended to 100%. The Commander came down the ramp of the ship and removed her Remlok mask. Brown hair became visible as well as white skin, almost as pale as a marble. She was a beauty to behold, so I continued to casually walk towards her until we were at an arms length from each other.
"Welcome to Greeboski's Outpost. Hope you had a good ride here Commander. I'm CMDR Coragon, and whom I'd be having the pleasure with?" I spoke, extending my hand.
There was a moment of silence between the two of us. She looked me up and down, and while doing so I was able to catch a glimpse of her hazelnut colored eyes. Looking intriguing like the rest, yet for a split-second it seemed something was not right. Then the moment passed, and she took my hand and answered in a soft voice:
"Hello, I’m Commander Miss Martian. Rumour has it that this is where I might be able to find the Ghost Legion, could you please offer me assistance in finding them or at least point me in the right direction?"
I smiled.
"I believe so, yes...please, let me guide you to them..." I answered and went ahead, hearing her footsteps close behind me.
A new face for the Wing, and a damn fine looking one too. But never judge a book by it's cover, for many things can lie underneath. I was the best example of that ancient speech, and certainly not the only one. Everyone has secrets, some darker then others. Given time, they'd be uncovered.
I wondered what secrets she'd hide behind that wonderful face of hers, almost looking like a fragile porcellain figurine. Sparkling on the outside, but hollow and dark on the inside?
Time would tell.
To be continued...