Ruminations of a Survivor

[AuruemSaber]

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The Spirit of Revolt has been at Barrier Gate for a few days since its arrival from Omega-Three. Alex and his crew's celebrations in the wake of the battles they'd fought and won in the Omegas had come to a close, much to the relief of the staff working at the bars. So when I arrived at the airlock where the Hel class cruiser was moored, the Syndics were now fully underway with loading supplies and probably taking the downtime to carry out routine maintenance that didn't require a dry dock.

Alex and his lot quickly recovered from the aftermath of their multiple day-long celebrations. As I approach the airlock, I get some odd looks from the ship crew, who are bringing crates onboard via magnetic trolleys, likely wondering why someone dressed in civvies that they didn't recognise was coming to their airlock.

However, before they had a chance to confront me, one of the security team members assigned to inspect the cargo coming aboard and ensure nothing that might jeopardise the ship was brought aboard seemed to recognise me and left his compatriots to check the crates while he came to speak to me.

Clearly, he seemed to recognise me as a cheeky grin broke out on his face, and he held out his arms in surprise.

"Well, fuck me sideways and call me Candy; I never thought I'd live to see the day when Beck's Harper is wearing civvies."

I was confused, staring at the man who had just spoken with the most horrendous Libertonian drawl I'd ever heard, who gave me a perplexed look as if I should remember him from somewhere.

Then I notice the first detail, the high, tight-cut dark ginger hair, And the rest follow rapidly, pale and freckled skin matched with bright green eyes is the final clue that pushes me to the breakthrough that I was staring at Roycewiz.

"Royce? Thought you went for the quiet life?"

I barely manage to get the words out in shock. The last time I'd seen him, he was Corporal Jacob Roycewiz of 3rd Platoon, 10th Marine Division of the Republic of Liberty, one of the handful of survivors from his platoon after they had been left behind after Royal Flush went utterly sideways.

I thought he had settled down for civilian life after the war ended, but I was wrong, it seemed. Surely he wasn't a part of the Spirit's crew the last time I was aboard the ship?

He's smiling again, happy to be recognised and moves in for a handshake. One that I return happily, it's a pleasant surprise to see the cheeky bastard again. He always got along well with Alex.

"Hey, hey, ya' do remember, but nah, after Royal Flush and Pesticide? I'm fucking done with Liberty. Figured the Guild was a hell of a lot more honest than anything I could do at home, and since it led me to Alex and this cheery bunch? I'd say it worked out for me."

I grimace at the mention of Pesticide. The mention of the operation alone was enough to bring back bad memories of my time on the surface of Erie with Aspen before managing to get out a smirk for Royce's sake.

"Hey, fuck it, if you're happy, then good on you. Alex aboard?"

"Let's find out."

He says before tapping a button on his gauntlet and raising it so he could speak into it.

"Yo, Alex, you still on the Bridge?"

The response came quickly. From what I could hear from the speaker on the gauntlet, Alex clearly wasn't busy and seemed to be in good form.

"Yep, why you got a situation down there you need me for?"

"Nah, I'm on my way to the bridge now with a surprise guest for you."

There is a moment's pause before Alex's reply comes this time, but I already know it's the fact that Royce is deviating from protocol causing it. Likely, Alex wasn't expecting anyone, and his mind jumped to the worst possibilities rather than the good ones.

"Uh, rog', don't suppose you'll actually tell me who it is?"

"Wouldn't be a surprise then, would it?

Royce joked back, a mischievous grin on his face before he tilted his head towards the airlock itself. It seems I managed to secure myself an escort to the bridge. Royce calls out to the two other security team members as we pass.

"Hey, I'll be back in five, gonna' show her up to the bridge."

He's met with scoffs and shakes of the head; it's not the first time Royce has taken any excuse to get a break from guard duty, I wager.

As we make our way through the tight and rugged corridors that make up the internals of the Hel, Royce finds himself with little time to talk to me. He gets bombarded with questions about a poker night he's hosting. A tradition he explains in the gaps he is given that he started upon coming aboard. I nod politely as he explains, secretly thanking the stars for the welcome chance to avoid having to explain the messy story that has been my life since the war ended as we make our way up to the bridge.

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