A Withdrawn Existence

[Wolfs Ghost]

Cambridge System - Kingdom of Bretonia
Goodman Family Ranch
Planet Cambridge, Cambridge System

"Tomorrow's mission is a huge one. I've placed full trust in an enemy that had came to me seeking help. Whether my trust was well placed has yet to be seen. But I must prepare for the worst, as I will ensure that my men make it out before me. I'll sacrifice myself for them, and it will be the end.

I'm done with coming back and fighting another day. Tomorrow... everything is at stake, and nothing... nothing can go wrong. But everything will."

He carried the last box of assorted items into the garage and sat it down on the floor, sighing heavily as he stretched his arms. A light smile was strewn across his face as he looked over the corner of the garage that had various sizes of boxes that had came from his house, after he was content that nothing would fall and break, he brushed his hands together and left the garage, heading back to the ranch house.

Aside from his recent demotion for the lack of communication between the Armed Forces and Liberty Navy about a certain... vessel, he felt everything was slowly coming together, which for the most part made him content.

Although, he still had a few things to take care of before the events of the next day decided to transpire.

Austin opened the front door to the ranch house and then shut the door after he stepped inside, then he made his way down the hall towards the second bedroom that he recently took time out of his day to clean and organize as he had a guest on the way. Whether the events tomorrow would transpire in his favor or not, would yet to be decided.

He stepped inside the room and took a look around making sure the room was indeed clean, organized, and the bed was made. Once he was satisfied, he closed the door behind him and made his way back to the living room where his uniform had been laid out on the coffee table.

The rendezvous spot was Southampton for his squadron, only one person in that squadron - aside from himself - knew the details, and importance of the mission that was taking place. Once the rest of the squadron of volunteers had gathered, he would inform them of the task that was at hand. He might have been demoted, but there was of course one thing he was counting on, and that was his status... no matter where it got him after this.

He collapsed to a laying position on the couch, propping his legs up against the arm on the opposite side and staring up at the ceiling, while tucking his arms underneath his head.

"Record the following, October Sixteenth, Eight-Nineteen."

He drew in a deep breath as he closed his eyes, before speaking once more.


"I'm Lieutenant Commander Austin Rodney Goodman, the last Goodman of my families line, the hero of Prime Minister Mountbatten, and a soldier of Her Majesty's Armed Forces.

If you're listening to this message, I'm probably either captured, or dead. If I'm captured, don't go after me as it wouldn't matter anyways, by the time you got forces together... Bretonia would have fallen, or I would have been tortured to death. If I had died... well, keep listening.

There are things in my life that I have done, that I'm not proud of... so whatever happened to me I deserved, because frankly... the things I've done are borderline treason, and I've gotten away with it for one... one reason.

Whether now, or in the future, they want to admit it or not. Bretonia needed me. During the Kusari war, they needed someone to give them hope, I saved the Prime Minister, and gave that hope to them. They needed someone others aspired to be, to make a hero... then when things turned to the worse, someone to take the fall... to blame, because no one else would.

Whether the person whose listening to this believes me or not, this is how I feel. All of my actions have been justified, all of my actions can be seen as good for Bretonia and her people. I'll admit I've made mistakes in the past, but should one really... be treated so poorly for doing what he thought was right?

No. Politicians, nobles, and those of royal blood don't care if you're trying to do what you feel is right, what others see is right. They only care for how long you can be paraded around, only care to promote you, give you a medal and then... when your time is up or when you're useless, throw you away and hope you rot. If you do one small - tiny - mistake, they make it a huge deal out of it, stepping out of their boundaries to ruin you even more.

I'm not going to lie when I say this... but the one thing I regret, is saving the Prime Minister. Had I followed orders and didn't stay in Liberty, had I not given the time the Prime Minister's ship needed to get away... things would have been much easier for me. I would have been the nameless Ensign who... had the Prime Minister's blood on his hands. I would have been looked down upon, infamous. But no, I had to save the Prime Minister because it was my job... and now? I'm living a miserable life, fighting through one war, then getting dragged into another. Carrying the reputation of a hero for a politician who would later use you as a scapegoat.

There were many in the Armed Forces, or other military organizations that felt I didn't deserve the Carina's Cross, who knew I disobeyed direct orders to return home, orders given by an Admiral. Those people are now dead, or have retired, and I feel no shame because I should have joined them a long time ago, but I still continue living and I still continue fighting.

As the saying goes, I won't rest until I'm dead.

Each time a Templar doesn't come home. Each day that a squadron disappears and fails to report in is a damage to morale. Morale that had been suffering since the Kusari invasion. Morale that regrettably enough was held together by the few small victories that we managed to pull off in the face of an enemy that had been prepared for war - for centuries.

If it hasn't already, Bretonia is going to fall. It's not going to break apart from the inside like Gallia, or Rheinland, it's going to crumble from it's stone walls on the outside. We're a strong people, we always have been, and we always will be. But what we really need now is a change.

Our Admirals stick to text book strategies that have been around for centuries, strategies that clearly have not worked. Our politicians stick to broken democracy. Our merchants... care only for the credits in their pockets rather than what's going on. Our allies? Only care about themselves, and when they feel that they're threatened only then decide to show themselves.

Anyone who goes against these text books, or this way of thinking are considered traitors, or considered an enemy. Their actions that are seen as right by themselves and the few friends or on-lookers they have, are seen as nothing more than an attempt at bringing down the house.

It's clear that out of the box thinking, and unorthodox'd tactics are frowned upon, and sometimes even considered treasonous. Do something that will kill one hundred civilians, to gain the outcome of the survival of one million civilians? It's disgraceful, disgusting, and horrific.

But do something to save one mans life, who you don't even know or will never meet again? It's seen as a heroic.

Clearly... our thoughts of heroes are disgustingly backwards and twisted, and by all means... I was never a hero, and I will never be considered one. At least not in my own eyes."

He paused, letting whatever it was he was trying to get at sink in before speaking up again.


"If Bretonia is still fighting, I wish her well... and I know what she needs. She needs a united fleet of Rheinland, Kusari, Liberty, Council, Hispania, Coalition, Colonial ships. She needs to have one... united military force, not separate ones fighting across multiple fronts. But one force, one front. Together... we can defeat this enemy and push them back.

Together... can we ensure that this is the war that ends all wars. Sirius has seen enough bloodshed to last an eon. Sirius has lost enough sons and daughters to these wars over resources, territory, or petty disagreements.

But alas... the only way for this to even be accomplished... we must put aside our differences, and work together for the same goal. That goal should be pretty simple by this point... the complete and total surrender or annihilation of the corrupt and infested Gallic Regime."

He paused, opening his eyes and staring at the ceiling once more, letting the silence sink in.

"End recording."

There was a familiar beep that had followed shortly afterwards. With that, he stood up and walked over to the recorder, pressing a button and pulling the disc out of the machine.

He placed it in a nearby CD case, which he then took over to the bookshelf and pulled on a blue and white book, causing the shelf to automatically slide over to the left, revealing a dark stair well. He followed the stairs down to an oak door that had the words "Wine Cellar" across the frame.

He opened the door and stepped into the cold room. Various bottles that had been collected over time have been carefully arranged around the room, the smell of grape hung heavy in the air. He took in a deep breath, smiling softly as he approached a safe, turning the dial a couple of times the safe clicked and opened.

After a moment of silence and staring inside of at the picture of him and his family, he placed the CD case inside and then promptly shut the case and spun the dial - resetting it.

"I'll be back... I always will." He muttered softly, shaking his head lightly and looking over at the bottle of sake he had received as a gift mere days ago.

"If I'm going to die. You... and me, tonight, sounds wonderful." He said, grabbing the bottle, and a bottle of wine on his way out.

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