Wesley Richter

[Zapp]

Wesley disposed of the Nomad the most economical way possible he blew it out an airlock. He tried his best to keep it a secret, carrying it bundled in a blanket the short distance. On returning to his cargo bay, he noticed that the man was still unchanged. Blonde hair, blue eyes, and lines around his eyes that said he had endured a lot. He looked to be about 40, which would put him as a young recruit back in the Nomad War. Wesley had no idea what being infected for so long did to a human psyche, but he had a feeling he was about to find out.

He sat against a bulkhead on the far side of the cargo bay, snoozing a little as he waited for him to wake up. Hours passed before a startled gasp from the man brought Wesley out of his half-asleep half-awake state of consciousness. The man tried to sit up, straining against the bonds. Wesley got up slowly and walked over.

Who are you? Where am I? Why why is it so quiet?

I am Wesley Richter. This is my ship, and its so quiet because you are no longer infected with those abominations known as Nomads.

His eyes widened, his mouth quirked to a smile. There there is no way I can thank you enough! I went through hell with that thing in my head, treating me like a beast of burden. Please release me.

Wesley pressed a button on the stretcher and the restraints popped off. The man swung to a sitting position, and massaged circulation back to where the straps had been. Please, you must tell me who you are. I must know who could have saved me.

This is Darmstadt Depot, the Landwirtrechtbewegung base. I am one of their Guard pilots.

What? My own people, the Military, would not save me, but you, my supposed enemy would? Wesley you have shown me that the Rheinland Military does not care for its pilots. Please, I owe you my life. Allow me to fly with you.

It would be an honor to have you, ahh whats your name?