Adventures of a Drunkard Pilot

Chapter 8: Start Of An Even Longer Night

The funeral was a short one. We put Charlie-s body into a grave that Tex and another large trainee had dug in the top of the mesa that the base was built inside. All the trainees were present, along with some of the base staff. There was a short ceremony, followed by Cameron saying a few words about them growing up together somewhere to the north. I honestly didn’t catch too much of it, as I was pretty hammered off beer from the stash of gear we had found. As soon as we were done, and the grave was filled with the red clay of the desert, we all retired back down into the base. We gathered the trainees up before departing for the night.

“Alright,” I said to the somewhat hazy group circled around me in the briefing room, “get some sleep. We start early tomorrow morning.” The group looked unmotivated, with almost no one making eye contact.

“Staff sergeant,” a small guy with a Boston accent spoke up, “what about Lord Rojas?”

“What about him?” Arthur, who was the sober of us all after almost not drinking at all, responded.

“He killed Charlie,” a girl from the back of the group angrily said.

“And he’ll get his,” I spoke up, my level of coherency coming up a bit. “He killed one of us, and that right there is reason enough to kill him. But first, we end the Legion.”

“So we will get justice for Charlie?” Tex asked from behind me.

I looked back at him for a second before speaking. “Oh, hell yes.” I looked back at the main group. “We will get justice.” With that, we dismissed everyone and headed back to our rooms. On the way, we saw Cameron, who had been the first out of the room, arguing with someone.

“No, I will not!” she said angrily to an elderly man in a Navy uniform. His collar had the stripes of a commander.

“The Alliance Counsel demands it!” the man desperately reiterated.                                                    

“What going on here?” I asked as we walked up to them. Arthur motioned that he and Mitchell were going to head back to the room.

“The Counsel is demanding Captain Vox’s immediate resignation and voluntary imprisonment for the “insults against Lord Rojas and his keep,”” The man said, spitting out the last bit like it was poison.

“And you are?” I asked. I looked back, but the guys had already left.

“Duncan, this is Commander Roberts of the Alliance Navy,” Cameron introduced.

“Staff Sergeant Maxwell, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Roberts offered his hand. “You probably don’t remember me, but I was the Executive Officer on the U.S.S. San Diego when Jester used it as a staging area for Operation Hellfire.

“Is that so?” I asked back, taking and shaking his hand. “I vaguely remember you.”

He caught a smell of my breath and smiled. “And there’s the smell I remember the most.”

“So what are you gonna do about the Counsel?” I asked Cameron.

“Personally, I think she should tell them to blow it out their asses,” Roberts offered, “but she won’t.”

“Why not?” I asked, raising an eyebrow at her. Well, I tried to, but in my somewhat-drunken state, I just raised both of them and opened my eyes really wide. Cameron looked at me and went from pissed off to laughing hysterically. “What?” I asked, not realizing what I did.

“Nothing,” she said between laughs. She sombered up a little bit. “We’ll deal with this tomorrow. The Counsel knows I’m not completely functioning and are trying to push me out quickly. We’ll come up with a run around tomorrow.”

“I will be here when you come up with your response.” Roberts said, “For now, however, I will retire to my room. It’s been a long day.” With that, he saluted Cameron and walked off.

“Congrats on the promotion,” I told her.

“Not really my idea,” she replied, “everyone above me got taken out about 2 hours ago when a New Monarchy airship managed to shoot down their transport as they were on their way to the Counsel headquarters.”

“Well shit,” I slurred out.

“Yeah no kidding,” Cameron replied. She sighed.

I changed the subject. “So what’s his story?” I asked as Roberts walked out of ear shot.

“Roberts was my father’s best friend. He was with my dad when the Heaven’s Fall hit. They were a couple miles outside the Brazilian border, but the New Monarchy captured them as enemies of the state. They executed my dad and tortured Roberts. He swore to my dad that he would protect me, so he acts as my ambassador to the Alliance while running the Alamo Front.”

“Damn,” was all I could come up with. We started walking towards my room. It was then that I was struck with a moment of drunken brilliance. “Hey, you wanna grab a drink?” I asked on a limb.

“What?” Cameron replied, clearly surprised.

“You seem like you could use a drink after the day you had, and I can always use one,” I stopped walking. It was too hard to walk and talk at the same time. “Besides, what kind of a Marine would I be if I let a good looking woman go through a hard night alone?”

“You….” She said with a look of disappointment and interest on her face, “...are unbelievable.”

“Is that a yes?” I asked, leaning against the wall.

She thought for a second before responding.“You know what, why not-” She was cut off by a blaring alarm sounding. “What the hell?” she asked.

“Delta!” I shouted over the alarm.

“Staff Sergeant Maxwell,” his figure appeared in front of us. "We are currently tracking multiple Legion contacts 13 miles to the north of the base, closing at approximately 129 miles per hour. They will arrive in approximately 6 minutes.”