Out of the Ashes

The Hardest Part

Cyclops Deep Space Satellite

0430 Earth Time

April 28, 2245

Zack Leingod

There comes a point when everyone faces a battle they aren't ready for. It sneaks up on them and strikes without any warning. It is a battle of inevitable defeat no matter how long the struggle might be. They are powerless to stop it. It strikes them down to land in a pit of utter despair and depravity. It is a battle of internal strife and chaos that cannot be won by physical strength or cunning of the mind. The mightiest warriors cannot hope to stand against it. The heart is where this battle takes place, it is within every man, woman, and child.

As he gazed out at the stars from the cockpit of his fighter, Zack thought of only one thing, home. He could see Earth, although, it was a tiny blue crystal floating in a sea of blackness, he felt as if he could reach out and hold it in his hand. It was a beacon of hope calling to him from across the stars. Calling him back home to the peace and quiet that belongs to living within the capitol. But here, he enjoyed the peace and quiet that came from being in space, where there was no sound except your own thoughts.

There was much to be done before he would see Earth again and Zack knew it. For weeks they had been stationed on Pluto watching and waiting for something to happen. Nine weeks ago The Office of Defense Central Intelligence received telemetry from a long range satellite counting twenty unidentified ships on a direct course for Protectorate space. But instead of fighting against what was sure to be a challenge, Zack and his men were battling the freezing cold of Pluto and the despair of being alone in space; boredom was also starting to set in among the pilots and infantry units stationed at Purgatory.

Purgatory, was built on the surface of Pluto shortly after the Colony wars, and is a hold over station for colonists and troops heading outside of the Sol system while their ships were refueled in orbit. The freezing cold temperatures and lack of light make it an ideal spot for people to commit suicide or go insane while waiting for the three day fueling process. Getting prepared for an out of system journey meant that ships needed enough fuel to reach Andaris 1, a good four year journey with an induced state of cryogenic sleep. The base was never built to house a group of long term residents. 

Zack and his unit made regularly scheduled patrols every eight hours between the fueling platform in orbit above Pluto and Cyclops, the deep space surveillance satellite. After weeks of routine patrols he was starting to think that nothing would ever happen and that his unit was sent out for some other reason.

The 3rd Strike Group was a highly decorated unit; in fact, they were the most decorated unit among the Protectorate's forces with a proud history dating all the way back to the Moon Conflict. They were highly active during the Colony Wars, involved in battles ranging from the Moon all the way to Neptune. They even won the Protectorate Medal during the Battle of Titan, for their actions to protect a ground transport from an overwhelming force of colony fighters. They also prided themselves on never losing a ship during combat operations and have fifteen active aces on roster.

As Zack sat and watched the stars he couldn't help but think that something about this patrol was different. He had checked and rechecked all of his shipboard sensors and made sure that all the instruments were working correctly. Nothing was different from any other mission that they had flown, but in his gut he could tell that something was off.

"Green Leader, Green 1." Static broke the silence as the radio squawked.

"Go for Green Leader, what you got for me Jones?"