Growing up was the easy part. I knew what I was going to be. A sports star- or so I thought. Bloody well, mates, here's how it went. I was a son to a rather rich rancher. Used to horses, cattle, the like. In school I was pretty good at academics, but what I really loved was Pyramid. When I was not at school, or playing pyramid. I was often out hunting with my dad. I had a pretty good shot, back then. Least with a rifle-my trick shooting with a pistol would need work, but when you live our by Cel Varro-there's not much need for one. Course, I've been known to race a couple of times-but not so much anymore-quite wary of horses now.
But that's another story-where we we? Pyramid, right mate? Right.
On a three man team, I played your defense-your goon. And I was bloody good at it too. Good enough to get myself a Scholarship, full paid to Caprica University (Go Goats!) I proceeded to do well. Well enough, that I was talked about on CSPN-even got the Marathon award for best defenseman out there. Earned my rep-having injured a bloke his junior year-my sophomore, ending his career. Doing something like that, puts you on the map. There were thoughts that I would go to the Lions, or the Archers in the first round come the draft. However something kept me out of the bloody running. I managed to get myself injured, while horse racing back home over the summer. I graduated early, with my majors in writing, and minor in mathematics- and then proceeded to go through rehab. I couldn't play sports-not professionally anyway, I was however able enough to go into the military-And I proceeded to do so.
If I thought pyramid was a challenge-the bloody Navy was something I never expected. They took and beat the country out of me. ran me through my paces-despite my like of going fast-my height and some of my landings quickly got me out of the running for flying a viper. However I could handle a raptor, and better yet I was better for an ECO job. being a backseater has it's perks. If you're flying assault- you're the man behind the missiles. If you're L&S you got camera and stealth duties. And of course there's the packages. Sure you might not be flying hard and fast, unless needed-but your mind is in the bloody highway.
Did my basic and flight school out of Argo on Aquaria, before being transferred upon completion to Tau garrison, on Tauron, and finally ending up on Leonis at Anaydomene. It was nice being at home. But, like they say-never look a gift horse in the mouth.
Work on Leonis, wasn't even that. I had plenty of time though to train. When not flying your standard L&S, or even SAR training modules, I was working on getting cross trained, so I could parrot as a front seater, if needed. Lot's of blokes have that as a skill set-makes you able to stay longer in the game- and keeps you lookin' nice for fat billets. I did it, because I like the challenge-needed it. Great thing about getting cross trained in the Navy is, you're only required to fly about twice a month in the Navy, then you're ECO'ing it for the rest. So that's what I did. I got my certification, and did my time so as to keep the shine on my wings. I also managed to get myself engaged in the process. Her name was Alice-Lovely girl. Thin-blonde. My type.
Though I was close to home, and family, I was still on fleet time. And so forays out into the Western territory of back home were rare. I was flying assault at the time-in support of the CSAR blokes that were on base, not that we were ever needed. Even began to work on a pet project of our Commander's. he was trying to come up with a unit that would work in a very hit and run sort o' way. Drop in, do your business, and come out. As it stood, he wanted to see if the training would be hard on a pilot's schedule-so like any schmuck looking for a promotion I hopped in, and tossed in my name. Bloody hell they ran a gauntlet on us-Had us practicing hot flights in, and then deploying on the ground. As it was-they had us run with marines. Work on our shooting, and our hand to hand-should we ever need it, or were unfortunate enough to be shot down in a place like Sagittaron, and were left in hostile-or in Sag's case, insurgent hands.
Well I got my promotion from it, and an excuse to go shooting at the range-more than usual. Wit the raise in grade-came my marriage to alice. And a promise of posting should the unit pan out.
It was too bloody easy.
When the bombs went off, I was no where near the base- My pilot and I were coming back from flying usual recon-when they came in. If it wasn't worse we got shot down in the process. We got off a few shots, but nothing that would even come close to taking anything down. We were bloody ducks on the pond.
Pilot died, I survived and tried to hump it back to base.
To get to m' wife.
It was then I ran into a group of the CSAR chaps. Weren't much of them, but according to their word, weren't much left of the base. What didn't get fried as bombed to shit. Quarters-everything. I assume Alice didn't suffer long. We headed out, armed with what we had-which with them was a couple of rifles, and my sidearm. Piss poor resistance if you ask me.
We ended up meeting with a group of Civilians, cops, ex Mil blokes at a strip joint. Got seiged in there too, given our frakkin' luck.
Hm? Yeah I saw some shit. Before we were besieged, we tried to hit back. The bloody six of us. It wasn't much-couldn't have been much given how badly outnumbered we were. Saw all sorts of frakkin' shit too. Bloody death marchers only to have men, women and children shot out, and buried in piles.
I don't like t' talk about it mate.
We'd given up hope at the Gentleman's club, an I thought I would pass on right in a bloody place where men get jerked off for a few cubits.
Luckily the Cerebus came. Now? Now I am all recertified up-able to fly
I want to-makes me feel somewhat normal.