Tides of Change

[Cat]

Distress call. Another group in Liberty needs assistance. You know the drill, Scott: gear up, run to the fighter, one minute to calculate the route, then the long flight with unknown outcome begins.

And while we waste our forces dealing with those who could in theory terminate the problem we're faced with, "the problem" itself grows stronger. I wonder why won't they pay attention to the threat? Are they unaware? - No, impossible. Do they underestimate it? - No, the lessons of the previous war are quite fresh. Wait, the previous war? No, the war still continues. That war began long ago, and it never actually ended. And what are the governments doing? - Perhaps, they simply consider the nomads beaten. Or in the worst case, they may even be...
The thoughts coming into Brian's head were quite displeasing. Although he knew that his last, yet unshaped thought was wrong most likely, he couldn't get rid of it. What if the government officials really are...? - No, they have equipment to monitor the infestation now. Keep thinking about it and you'll become a paranoid. - the inner voice interrupted Brian's thought.

Again corporal Scott was sitting at his favourite place, drinking the ale glass after glass. Remembering the previous events. Arguing with himself. Instinctively he noticed Santos Bolevara entering the bar, and the thoughts switched into other direction.
-Those guys were counting on you. You failed. Bolevara's ship was down even before you managed to come. The major was left alone. When you arrived, the odds became even again. And you failed.
-But I seem to have underestimated the opposition...
-You are an operative trained to deal with any potential threat. That means you should always be aware of the enemy's forces, their firepower and their potential.
-It was just not the type of combat I'm used to...
-You must adapt. Survive. Prevail. You must always find adequate response. Otherwise you're worthless.
Brian realised that he was right, he couldn't do much. But his conscience kept the pressure, there was nothing that Scott could do to stop it. He tried to shake his head, fending those thoughts off, as if they were annoying flies, but it didn't help. Especially when heard the silent groaning of Bolevara.

Brian expected the fine Bretonian Ale to do the job, but instead of purging the unwanted memories it kept calling them to life.
Bastet taking critical damage... Exploding... Brian's pod slowly flies away. To be recovered by another corporal, Nicholas Rogers.

-At least some of the equipment was saved.
-That is not an excuse for your failure. You lack in training. You need to practice more...

...It's gonna be gettin' a lot more harder in the future...

Harder? What can be worse than that counter-strike arranged by the Navy? What can be worse than a squadron of professional pilots working as a team? What can be worse than the battle that happened then, Brian? - Hmmm... Maybe the Bounty Hunter Guild Core vessels and the whole nomad fleet orbiting Toledo?

Brian smiled at that ridiculous thought and kept drinking. The ale must've started working.

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