Adventures of a Drunkard Pilot

Chapter 3: Reunion

“What did you just say?” I asked, the cigar on the ground now forgotten.

Graves spoke up. “In 2035, 5 years after the Heavens Fall, word started making its way around that Pilots were actually a rogue faction of the military that bombed Jupiter with the Poseidon probe, and that the resulting attack was retribution.”

“And people believed them?” I asked, still in shock.

“Unfortunately, those in power did,” Cameron said. “People then started getting a look at the technology that the Legion had, and from there some started revering them as gods. By 2047, the United Stated, the UK, Germany, Brazil, Russian, China, and any other major country you can think of made worship of any deity other than Legion illegal.”

“You have got. To be FUCKING KIDDING ME!” I bellowed to the ceiling. “Do the other 2 know this yet?”

“They know about as much as you do, plus whatever they left themselves,” Cameron replied.

“Then get me to them fast,” I said, “We need to start now.”

Cameron nodded, then turned for the door. I stepped on my cigar, putting it out, and followed her and Graves into the hallway. I followed them down the sterile hall to another room. The doors hissed apart, revealing something strait out of the briefing scene from any good action movie. There was a table set up in the middle of a semi-large room. It was surrounded by rows of chairs set up like we were some circus act. And at the table I saw 4 people. Well, make that 4 figures. Standing at the table, going over their tablets, were Arthur Pendrake and Mitchell Vega. Standing over the tables, probably comparing notes or something, were their AIs, Iota and Omega respectively. Arthur was a lanky guy with black hair that came down and almost covered his brown eyes and the scars that ran across his face like claw marks. His long figure was covered in ACU camouflage DBUs, with his face shaved to stubble. Iota, his AI, was a figure of a small child made of colors that varied based on his mood. His voice matched his figure, as did his personality, but his computing power could out do almost all of the computers in the world combined. Omega was a vibrant red figure of a man dressed in Vietnam-era combat dress. His human half, Mitchell, was dressed in desert camo military pants and a brown long sleeve shirt. His ginger hair was shaved almost bald, both to accent his impressive beard and to show off the scars of claw marks down the left side of his head. They all looked at me as soon as the door opened.

“Sup, fucke-” I started to say, but was suddenly hit with a wave of memories so strong I dropped to one knee and grabbed my head. I remembered my high school graduation, running the Crucible with the Marines, my mom’s reaction when I told her I was being deployed, even how killing my first man felt. I remembered my past because these guys had been with me since I could remember. Looking up at them, I saw they were in the same situation as me. Arthur was collapsed on the table holding the sides of his head, while Mitchell was on the floor in the fetal position cradling his head.

“Fuuuuuuuccckkkkkkkkkkk,” was all he uttered, slowly getting to his feet. I stood up and Arthur got off the table.

“Hey guys,” Arthur said, still rubbing his head.

“Long time no see, everyone,” Iota said, his synthetic voice sounding concerned.

“What’s going on boys?” Omega said, “Nice to see you enjoyed your nap.”

“Can it, O,” Mitchell barked. I spotted they all had their own gear stacked at the foot of the table. I picked my bags up and walked to the table.

“So,” I started as I dropped my bags, “what all do you guys know?” I took Delta’s core out of my pocket and set it next to the other AI cores on the table. His image popped up and immediately went into conversation with the other 2.