Distortion

[Wesker]

Barracks Lounge Akabat, Omicron Mu
10/18/824 AS, 19:00

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Luciano, or "Lucian" as they would all begin to call him for simplicity - was not the person the Order expected him to be. He didn't know how to fly, but he had a "military" service record with the Corsairs. How did an artist get branded a full blown Corsair, and not know how to fly? It was beyond them all at first, but it wouldn't really matter in the long run. The only obstacle he would appear to have his first few months with the Order - by his own choice - was his nationality. Being Cretan, many of the Order personnel weren't too quick to trust him at first, but as they got to know who he really was - they had almost no problem connecting with him. He wasn't the same type of person the Order assumed the "collective" Corsair to be. Even so, the Order's recruitment policy didn't discriminate against anyone, different people meant a wider variety of knowledge; an Omicron resident for sure fit that category.

Lucian was slow to pick up the talent of piloting, he spent extra terms in the Order's flight school program to pick up the advanced necessary tactics they demanded of everyone. With patience came progress though, and eventually Lucian was made a full blown Order operative, and pilot. He graduated just in time to assist in the final effort to stop the nomads from completely destroying Planet Toledo. The devastation caused that day would warrant his stay with the Order permanently, any thought of his wife or child being alive had left his mind. in the absence of those things, came an even greater motive to stick with the Order until his final days.

Or would it?

Lucian was enjoying some down time, drowning himself in his artistic works; even practiced sparring with some of the marine instructors at the TRACEN nearby. To close out his R&R, he and two of his friends decided to have have dinner in the lounge. It was late, so the three were the only ones there. As the group exchanged laughs, talking about the time they spent together for the past few years or so, Lucien's attention honed in on the screen.

*CNS NEWS BROADCAST: Rheinland government officials have likely already begun yet another set of reliefs and advancements for new military personnel following the catastrophe in Omega-7. Last week, an unprecedented Red Hessian force entered the system and destroyed a crucial mineral processing artery. Reutlingen station -having served as an essential component to Rheinland's mineral economy- was completely destroyed by the overwhelming force of Hessians, the few survivors that survived are now receiving emergency care on Stuttgart. The embarrassment and inability to protect their citizens has almost certainly ended the careers of Admiral Wolf and Admiral Sterr. With this as well, the Bundestag is now prioritizing the bounty of the head of the snake - the Red Hessian "Generalmajor" Annabelle Mychaela Heinrich-*

Lucian's head snapped towards the screen. What?! He spat out suddenly, catching the attention of both his friends as well. His eyes widened and his heart raced as he carefully listened to every word from the news report. It was overwhelming, just when he had found a mellow point in his life; his past started reaching out for him.

I know, an entire station. The Red Hessians have become a lot more aggressive lately, I heard CO's gonna start pulling assets from the Omegas for the time being. One of his friends replied, anticipating his reaction was at the attack and not the person. Do we know anything about her? He composed himself, if it was really her, he couldn't afford it getting out. Not much, apparently she's some sort of Ace pilot. I've never seen a CO that flies with his or her pilots, she must be crazy - especially if she's responsible for this.

Lucian's mind drifted into memories of his past as he continued to appear hypnotized by the monitor. It was more than overwhelming, and would certainly put him at a conflict of interests.

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