Starla was being a nag, per usual. It's always something with her. That night's flavor was her upcoming mission on the Dalia. Said I didn't seemed concerned enough. What the hell did I have to be concerned about? It was a routine mission, nothing to get your knickers in a twist about. And besides, I'd be there with her. But that woman wasn't having any of it. I didn't know what she wanted, which was becoming an all too familiar feeling.
So I grabbed my coat and headed for the door, telling her I was going to grab a drink with the guys. A half-truth, and she knew it. She yelled something out at me, I slammed the door, and that was that.
I headed out that night with a heavy heart, but it was nothing a couple drinks wouldn't fix. I ventured into the streets of Ganymede City, waiting for the night to come to me. I had no plans, no notion of where the night was going. I just had to be outta that house.
The streets reeked as much as ever. And it wasn't just the sulfur emanating from the hydrothermal vents beneath the pavement, an unsavory mainstay of downtown Gan City. It was also the ever-present stench of crime and moral corruption. It was inevitable when they made a city of this size, but it seemed to be worsening as of late. And I was stuck smack dab in the middle of all of it, thanks to me and my goddamned big mouth. But that's a tale for another time.
Like an oasis in a desert, the dim lights of Zeus' Eagle flickered into view. It was an ugly bar, truth be told, in desperate need of repair. But on nights like this, sadly enough, it felt like home. I sat down alone at the bar and asked for my usual.
And then she came sauntering in. A gorgeous blonde, with thick curls that fell halfway down her back. A real looker, no doubt. I just couldn't help myself. Deep down I knew it was all wrong. Deep down I knew what a selfish bastard I was. But the devil's drink had its claws in me, and all my guilts were washed away little by little every time I told the barkeep to hand me another. What started as a couple drinks quickly turned into a dozen, and the night turned into a blur.
Next thing I knew, I was greeted by a pair of bright, blue eyes staring up at me. The blonde from before...only she wasn't quite so beautiful as I remembered. I immediately rolled off her and saw the bright, red number that is burned into my mind to this day: 9:76.
That was it. I had finally done it. I had missed the Dalia departure by nearly two Gan hours. Starla would never forgive me.
Nor could I forgive myself, especially not after what came after. The news had come in that the Dalia had gone missing, and I was never the same. Like a coward, I drowned my sorrows with more booze and more women. But I knew it'd never make me whole. I felt lost, like I was drifting in a void. Nothing to anchor me, nothing to keep me from myself.
But then, like a sign from heaven above, word of a rescue mission reached my ear. Considered turning it down for a time, the coward I am. Figured it was hopeless.
But my mind kept coming back to what Starla said before I left on that fateful night. "When will the man I married come back?" she yelled out to me.
I was still searching for the answer to that question. The case had only just begun.
The merging with the X4 crew brought a much-needed injection of life into our crew, which was already starting to seem stagnant and stale. It brought more words, in any case, though words aren't everything.
Izza, RAMSES, Da Shuang, and even Kip made their impressions on me after that first meeting. These were certainly men I could see myself going deep into this investigation with.
Melvin and Percy, meanwhile, were notable nuisances to me. Deservedly so or not, I could hardly stand to be in their presence for more than a minute. Reminded me of some of them cloying young rooks down at the station. Take Murphy Stewart, for example. Murph was a young pup, no older than eighteen years old when he first joined the department. Bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, he did everything he could to please his superiors. Did everything he could to appear as the best goddamned prodigy that the force had ever seen. That all got put to the test when he faced his first real case. He had joined some of the senior detectives out in the field before, sure. But on this assignment, he ended up all out on his own. I wasn't there to see it, but all anyone could talk about the next day is the look that Murph gave Lt. Jackson when he came scurrying back to him, too scared to search an abandoned factory on his own. Said he heard something rustling around in there. So Jackson went in to check it out...and what'd he find? A cat. Murph ran away from a goddamned kitty cat! Me and the boys never let him live it down.
He got the last laugh, I suppose, as I got ousted from the force a year or two later for unrelated reasons, and he kept on. Last I heard, he had made sergeant. Ain't that a joke? But enough about Murph.
We were so close to the Dalia at that point, I could taste it. There had been so much drinking and smoking on that flight, I almost started to sicken of it myself. At times, I wanted to throw up my arms and say "Enough, enough already! Not everything needs to be about goddamned booze!" Which was saying a lot, coming from me, I would say. But mercifully, we met our destination soon enough. The landing certainly could've gone more smoothly, though the result was unsurprising considering who was manning the controls.
And then came the real start to the mission, no mistaking it. Unfortunately, it seemed like an omen of things to come. The shortage of suits forced us into some kinda democratic farce to decide the unthinkable: who would perish aboard the ship. The culling had begun. Many thought we'd find a way outta it. I wasn't so sure. Perhaps the nine would live on elsewhere. A stretch, sure, but I could see it. It just didn't seem right, to come so far, just to have nine of us bite the dust like that. But who are we to decide? Fate is a cruel mistress.
Not only that, but we were to appoint two captains who would carry some supplies. It all happened so fast, my head was still spinning. For reasons unbeknownst to myself, I put my name forward. No one seemed to give a damn, save for Dain. But he seemed to give a damn about everyone. Was he too nice? I don't know. Maybe I was just too cynical.
But why was I doing this? I was ill-fit as a husband. If you ask some of the higher-ups down at the station, I was ill-fit as a detective. What business did I have leading this operation?
I cannot answer that. Yet I felt oddly compelled. But it made no matter in the end, what the outcome would be. Many roads lead to the same destination. I just prayed to God above that that destination would be the waiting, loving arms of my Starla.
Things took a terrible, terrible turn from there. And no, it wasn't poor Izza gettin' left behind. No, it wasn't the beasts of hell neither.
It was my goddamned group. What hell on earth was this? Every single person I hated on that godforsaken ship seemed to be here with me.
Anna, the useless harlot, with a personality so bland she could make talking to a wall seem interesting. Melvin, the party boy who...well, I had some kinda unplaceable contempt for. Percy, the sprightly young fellow. Too goddamned sprightly. Pah! Watts, the most useless captain who ever lived. Edom, the Lindberg crew elitist. Frederic, the airhead. And Sam, the doubter.
"I don't see the appeal in Francis as a leader. As part of the team, sure. Leader, why? I still support Dain."
His words still echoed in my head even now. I would not soon forget them.
That all added up to having some kinda genuine distaste of nearly half the crew. I was a cantankerous man, that much is certain. But Dain's crew consisted of a group of sixteen which I could honestly say I had an affinity for each and every one of them...or at worst, an indifference. But yet here I was with Percival's crew.
Speaking of which...goddamn Percival? Percival! I didn't much care if I was made leader, truth be told. But to be beat out by a broad that expressly stated she had no desire for the position? Preposterous!
I had thoughts rush into my head. Bold thoughts. Foolish thoughts, truth be told.
They were ideas of running off with Aldo, Rin, and hell, maybe Eliza as well. A motley crew we would be, no mistaking it. But what a damn crew that would be. I had ideas of driving a pen through Anna's goddamn heart. Hell, I had ideas of running back to that flaming ship and joining Izza's crew if they still lived on.
All pipe dreams, truth be told. But stranger things, and all that.
For the time bein', I was stuck here, and I'd have to make do. It wasn't the first time I was stuck with a lousy task force. Of course, the last lousy task force I was stuck with set off the row of dominoes which ended with my dismissal. But perhaps this was yet another chance at redemption. Perhaps this mission was about righting more wrongs than the number I did on Starla.
Perhaps. Either way, seemed I didn't have much of a choice. It was time to go along to get along.
I felt like my soul had been ripped from my body. My boy. My little Aldo. He was gone.
Starla would've adored him. I know she would've. That boy...he was everything to me. A son. A hope. A future.
And he was left bleeding out on the cold ground, as if he were a piece of spoiled meat. And all I could do was watch, as Frederic upturned his nose and looked away. These people...I didn't know how much more I could take. Their greed, their arrogance, their conceit. Rin was the only one who could see the truth of it all.
It's as if they'd turned into androids, running the numbers to determine each group member's empirical utility. Hell, calling them androids was probably giving them too much credit. They were nothing more than heartless bastards.
What happened to no man left behind? What happened to no goddamned kid left behind? I didn't sign up for this. I didn't sign up for any of it. I didn't like this group from the first minute, but I only thought they'd annoy and bore the piss outta me. I didn't think they'd be monsters.
All this talk about roles...what the hell was that? As if that were a way to determine someone's worth. As if that were a reason to leave someone to rot. Was that all we were reduced to? Goddamned roles? Did nothing else matter anymore?
I was fed up. I had just shaken the urge to storm off on my own before that point. I began to think, hey, maybe these people ain't so bad. Maybe I can get used to this.
Now I just wanted them all to burn. It's the least they deserved.
In any case, I led the way down the elevator for those selfish bastards. The last time I would do them that courtesy, in all likelihood. And what do I get? A goddamn red child knocks me out. Now, I never really believed in karma, and this kinda thing was exactly why. See, you woulda thought that if anyone were to be haunted by a pint-sized red bastard, it'd be the folks who just condemned an innocent child to death. But no. Sometimes...sometimes stuff just happens, and there ain't no rhyme or reason to it. The universe is fickle that way.
As I lied there, unconscious, my sub-conscious was still busy doin' jumping jacks. All kinda things ran through my head. And you know what the saddest thing was? I prayed that I'd wake up and see that they'd all gone. But Lord knows, I ain't never been that lucky.
All I knew was, when I woke up, things were gonna have to change. It was time to leave them behind. Maybe Rin and Izza would come with me. Maybe I'd be out on my lonesome. Maybe by the time I actually woke up, cooler heads would prevail, and I'd be just another merry, placated soldier in their little army once again.
