Xeno Alliance communications (iRP) (FO)

[Capt. Henry Morgan]

Alamo Base, Tau-45

Glenn Thacker stood facing the viewport in his office. Glenn walked over to his desk, pulled a bottle and a glass out of the drawer, and poured himself a small drink. He hated Liberty Ale, but the horrible taste matched his current mood. Staring at the desolate majesty of Death Valley usually helped calm his thoughts at times like this. The problem was, there had never really been a time like this before. Sure, people died on a regular basis, that was an almost unavoidable fate as a combat pilot in the Knights. Despite this, the news of David Chambers' death came as a shock. No matter what the enemy brought, David seemed to always find a way to come out on top. He seemed indestructable. Glenn thought back on past missions. Hell, all the old Serpentis seemed indestructable. Copperhead was a legend in the cockpit, the scourge of corrupt Liberty and it's foreign allies, and he was one of Glenn's oldest friends.

Glenn now regretted taking the transfer to a desk job in Tau-45. Sure, as CAG on Alamo, he did a great deal whipping the fragmented, disorganized Tau-45 Guard into an almost military-grade unit, but dammit, that wasn't good enough. Glenn hurled his glass at the viewport, and it bounced off the glassteel window with a dull thunk. Why did he ever leave the front lines? If he had been there, perhaps David would still be alive to celebrate the victory over the corrupt government. He knew it wasn't logical to blame himself, and that your friends dying was a part of the game, but that didn't take away the pain.

Glenn considered for a moment, then he sat down at his desk and switched on his desk terminal. He began drafting a letter to the current leader of the Serpentis wing on Ouray, requesting a transfer back to active combat status. Never again would a friend die while he sat on the sidelines.

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