Just another day in the boring life of Kyle. He was sitting in his worn out chair, monitoring the various systems of his 20-year old Mafic while it cruised on auto-pilot. Blue, yellow and green lights faintly blinked everywhere, but nothing out of the ordinary. Despite none of the systems working flawlessly anymore, Kyle knew when it was good enough to survive in bitter environment of space, or when something was really wrong and it was time to put on his pressure suit. The ship was old and should have been replaced years ago. Any mechanic would cringe on the sight of his ship, with at least 3 missing hull plates, holes in the floor, barely isolated conduits and repairs with duct tape as main material. Not to mention the extremely outdated computer systems, making flying, working or even breathing a daily gamble with his already miserable life.
After the last mining job of the day, Kyle was on his way to his favorite spot. His least hated spot would be a better description. Kyle hated his life, his job, his probable future. As a miner, he had virtually nothing. After his father finally got caught, somehow his entire debt was transferred to Kyle. He had nothing but his clothes. Every single credit he earned was confiscated immediately to pay off his father’s enormous debt.
His spot, it was a small hole in a big asteroid, located near the Orkney jumphole. It was just large enough to park his Mafic in, and the edges of the hole cast a perfect shadow over it, making anything inside virtually impossible to see from the outside. Its view on the jumphole anomaly was quite fascinating. The weirdly rotating clouds projecting every possible color on the surroundings, making it an ideal place to dream away after a day’s hard work. Sometimes, a ship would come through from the other side, from Orkney. That would always give a spectacular show, it was a shame it didn’t happen very often.
Today, that was going to be different…
Kyle had almost dozed off when the radio started making sounds it wasn’t supposed to make. It was mostly static, but a scrambled high pitched voice could be heard over the radio. It sounded urgent, the voice was clearly upset and almost sounded in panic. Kyle tried to tweak the radiation filters, but a firm slap on the side of the control panel eventually led to a somewhat clear reception.
“Emergency IMG Broadcast to all civilians in the vicinity! All miners, retreat to the nearest station at once. They’re coming! I repeat, retreat to the nearest station at once. THEY’RE COMING!”
Kyle wasn’t impressed. Outcast raids happened at least once a week… This must be some new girl behind the microphone, not used to the daily amount of violence the miners in Tau-23 had to withstand. The message repeated itself a few times as usual, after which the radio went silent again. Kyle was about to turn off the radio when another voice took over. This time, a man with a calm but most definitely anxious tone in his voice.
“Emergency IMG Broadcast to all civilians in the vicinity. This is not a drill, head for the nearest station immediately, the Gallics are coming!”
The Gallics? That’s new. Kyle had heard some stories about these people from behind the minefields. He never paid much attention to those stories, because he thought they weren’t more than just that, stories. Some entire house hidden behind the minefields, seriously?
This time however, things indeed seemed serious. Seconds after the 3rd repetition of the emergency broadcast, hell broke loose. The anomaly started rotating like a storm, shooting out red and yellow lightning bolts every few seconds. It transformed from calm unnatural beauty, into a wild storm of chaos and colors…
Then, ships started to appear everywhere. Hundreds of ships of a kind he’d never seen before. Ships of all sizes, from tiny fighter scouts to absolutely massive battleships. Kyle jumped up out of his chair, hitting the ceiling with a loud bang. With a loud curse, he started pushing buttons, powering down every system on his ship. These guys weren’t looking friendly and today was not the day he was going to get shot by a story...
In 30 minutes, an entire army gathered around the jumphole. Battleships were maneuvering in a tight formation, with snubcraft patrolling around them, making sure everything was safe. The emergency broadcast stopped and all that was left was his own heavy breathing. He had never seen anything like this before in his life.
From complete chaos to perfectly structured order. It was incredible to see how fast the fleet gained control over the area. A few small Outcast raiding parties who quickly gathered at the scene to check out what was going on were obliterated in seconds. They didn’t stand a chance against these highly trained pilots in their odd ships. Kyle wasn’t going to take any chances and decided to sit still for a few hours while he watched the fleet expanding their patrols. His heartbeat returned to a normal level, and the lack of sleep caused him to fall asleep eventually.
He was violently woken by something that felt like an earthquake. Kyle jumped up from his chair, hitting the ceiling with his head on the exact same spot as before, resulting in an even louder curse. The entire ship was shaking like the asteroid was going to fall apart. When he looked out the window, his heart skipped a beat. He was being shot at! Blue projectiles barraged right past his ship. One hit, and it would be over. The gunfire came from a patrol, circling around his asteroid in attack formation… Only now did Kyle notice the incoming hails on the radio.
“Royal Navy Patrol Vert-deux to unknown miner, respond or you will be destroyed. This is your 3rd and final warning”
The voice was a soft and gentle woman’s voice with a heavy accent Kyle never heard before. The usual sharp tones of human speech sounded round and warm instead. It made her sound determined yet mild, but there was no doubt she meant what she said. Her voice strongly reminded him of someone…. Of her….
“Time’s up, light him up guys!”
Distracted by memories, he completely forgot the voice on the radio just threatened to kill him. He instantly activated the radio and responded to the hails.
The fighters were mere seconds away from opening fire, but they broke off their attack maneuver and got back into formation on what seemed to be the patrol leader.
“Took you long enough. Identify yourself!”
She said noticeably annoyed, but still with the same soft and gentle voice.
“Kyle Reese, IMG Miner, ID number 1026713 Sir… eh… Ma’am!”
A short silence followed… Kyle’s heart was still racing, he wasn’t sure if these were his last few seconds alive or if he just escaped from a shortcut to the afterlife. His life flashed past, mostly memories of her, painful memories of her.
“Miner, get out of here right now. Don’t try to hide next time and certainly don’t ignore our hails. Au revoir monsieur.”
Kyle immediately powered up his systems and entered the nav point for Java station in his navigation computer and took off.
The following days were eventful, to say the least. The broadcast made by this King Charles was received with very mixed feelings amongst the IMG. Many security pilots did not like this new presence at all, and joined the Colonial Forces to fight the Gallics. For Kyle however, it didn’t change much. He still had to go out each and every day into the minefields. The memory of that moment, that moment when they came, was a common subject in his dreams. He must have relived that moment dozens of times. Each time with that voice going through his head…
“Patrol Vert-deux, identify….”…“Final warning!” … “Get out of here” …
The never-ending process of paying off the debt wasn’t affected by the Gallic invasion all. Not in a positive way at least. With many of the security pilots preparing for the resistance, the IMG patrols around the mining areas were even less common than before. The Royal Navy patrols compensated for that, but they weren’t very pleasant company. Despite their rudeness and cocky attitude against “Sirians”, Kyle started to like them. With great admiration he saw the patrols flying by the minefields. Their elegant ships, effortlessly avoiding the many asteroids in the fields… The military efficiency and effectiveness of defeating Outcast raiding parties made him dream about a military career. Some structure in his life, respect from other people, and a fresh start away from this misery of mining. He didn’t have citizenship of any of the Houses, so enlisting for any of the militaries was out of the question, not to mention his debt was registered everywhere. He would never get accepted with those red numbers next to his name.
Things almost returned to normal. Mere weeks after the Gallic’s arrival, any notable resistance in the Tau systems was annihilated by the Royal Navy. The atmosphere on Java station became grim. IMG lost many pilots who joined the Colonial Forces, but were simply no match for the overwhelming Gallic military force. IMG managed to evade any serious political or military consequences, something the Guild masters were quite skilled in. Kyle still wasn’t sure what to think about the Gallics. The daily ID checks were starting to get pretty annoying, but in the back of his head, he still admired the Gallic affairs and what they did to achieve their goal, whatever that may be. That opinion however, changed the afternoon he heard a familiar voice on the radio again.
It was yet another regular day in the mining fields. Rumors of a large Outcast attack were going around for days, but everyone seemed to think it was just another false alarm, and the increased security measures already had been revoked. The only thing left was an extra gun slapped on his Mafic. Being barely compatible with its systems, it could fire a few shots before it fried 30% of the ship’s fuses. He heard some chatter on the radio of the approaching Royal Navy patrol, demanding every miner in the vicinity to identify themselves… again.
“Royal Navy Patrol Vert-deux to all IMG miners in the vicinity, stand-by for identification check”
Vert-deux, that voice… It took him longer than it should have to remember what was so familiar about that. Once they entered scanner range, Kyle replied.
"Good day ma’am, nice to see you again! It’s Kyle Reese, 1026712. How are you today?”
After a little awkward silence, she replied.
“Excuse moi? It’s none of your business how I am monsieur, I have no idea who…”
Before she could finish her sentence, a large explosion scared the hell out of Kyle. One of the Royal Navy fighters turned into a giant fireball before smashing into a large asteroid, leaving a deep crater in the surface. Suddenly, Outcast fighters everywhere. They came out of nowhere and opened fire on the Royal Navy vessels immediately. Completely overwhelmed by this sudden attack, the Navy fighters quickly scattered and only tried to desperately evade the incoming fire.
Fight or Flight.
Usually, flight was the only option. Mining vessels were no match against the Outcast arsenal, and even the security patrols mostly just bought time for the miners to get away instead of actually defeating the Outcasts. The odds weren’t looking very good for the Royal Navy this time. They were outnumbered at least 10 to 4 and there wasn’t much left of the military efficiency. After a 2nd Royal Navy fighter smashed into an asteroid, trying to evade an incoming missile, the 3 remaining fighters seemed to have found each other again. They regained attack formation, and started dealing some damage. It was amazing to see how quickly their training kicked in, evading missiles and gunfire like it was nothing. They destroyed 4 Outcast ships without taking a single hit. The fight continued for several minutes, with Kyle just sitting there, paralyzed of fear afraid to do anything.
They critically damaged another Outcast vessel and it started spinning out of control, heading straight for one of the many asteroids. Instead of using his escape pod, the fool armed and released all his remaining mines. The impact with the asteroid caused an enormous explosion, with shards of rock flying around everywhere. The explosion obliterated 2 Outcast vessels immediately and it almost did the same with a Royal Navy vessel. Luckily for that pilot, he saw it coming and engaged his escape pod just in time to get picked up by one of his fellow pilots. Still outnumbered 4 to 2, the Navy pilots had to squeeze every bit of power out of their ships’ systems.
Kyle’s radio started beeping with a very annoying high pitched sound, and a small blue light started flickering. Signs of an incoming short range encrypted channel. A quick glance on his radar did not reveal any ships but the Outcast and Navy vessels, who could it be? Kyle accepted the connection and was very surprised by the voice on the other side.
“You, miner. You wanted to know how I was doing today. I’m not doing very well, as you might see. Are you going to help us out, or just sit there waiting for a missile blowing up in your face? Help us out, and the Royal Navy will owe you one.”
Extremely surprise by this request for help, Kyle weighed his options. Fight, or flight. The latter option would mean he’d probably survive the day and get on with is miserable life. The first option was by far the worse option. Fighting, with his 20-year old Mafic armed with mining lasers and a single barely compatible gun? So fighting it was, imagine what would happen if actually saved the lives of these Navy pilots? The reward could be nothing less but a fortune…
Trying to control his heavy shaking hands, he started diverting power from the mining systems to his excuse of a shield generator and away from the fuse box. Kyle put on his pressure suit and did a last systems check before firing up his thrusters. He knew how to hit a target, mining was surely a delicate operation. But those rocks never shot back however…
His engagement didn’t last very long. He picked a target whose shields were already gone and simply started shooting. The Outcast did not expect an attack from him, so Kyle’s first kill became a fact. He was so surprised by this little victory that he forgot to evade the debris of his former target so he flew straight through the explosion. Countless alarms went off and pretty much every single screen in his ship started glowing red. Unable to regain control over his ship, Kyle pressed the big red button he hoped he’d never use. Praying to whatever was out there that the escape mechanism would work, he closed his eyes.
That was almost exactly one week ago. Kyle woke up in the medical bay of what later turned out to be the battleship RNS Guillestre. Kyle had no idea where he was, all he could see was a strange environment, technology he’d never seen before. He was lying in a medical bed, which was quite comfortable for his standards, even though it felt like he had been lying in it for a year. His arms and legs were tied to the bed, there was no way he was getting out of this bed on his own. After staring at the (extremely ugly) ceiling for few minutes which felt like hours, 2 people entered the room. Both men were dressed in some sort of white military uniform with Bordeaux red accents. Their heavy black boots made a loud tick every step they made. Once they spotted Kyle was awake, both men came to his bed, speaking a language he never heard before. It was very similar to the accent from the woman, which reassured Kyle a little he was in relatively safe hands. The men did a few scans, discussing the results in the same weird language. One of the men smiled at Kyle and nodded softly, his eyes going from the display to Kyle and back again. After a firm “Bon”, both men stepped out of the room again.
Silence returned. Kyle had no idea what just happened. Who were those men, where was he and how did he get here? Sooner than expected, the doors slid open again. A man and a women entered this time. The man was wearing a heavily decorated uniform and judged by his size, he had a rank high enough to have some authority. The woman however, was dressed in a basic and sober uniform, probably that of a regular soldier. Unless most Gallic people he talked with before, traces of the Gallic language were hard to hear in his English.
“Bonjour monsieur, I’m most glad to see you’ve finally woken up. Lieutenant Daguier here told me some interesting things about you. Despite the loss of your vessel, you probably saved the life of my daughter and for that, I am most grateful. I am Colonel Daguier, commanding officer of this ship, the RNS Guillestre. Before we arrange a transport to Java Station for you, I’d like you to take a look at this…”
The man handed Kyle a flyer, on the front it said JOIN THE FOREIGN LEGION TODAY
While Kyle was looking at the flyer, the man said something in Gallic to the women, most likely the daughter he mentioned, who replied with a simple “Oui, mon père, je vous remercie” and they started walking towards the exit. Kyle immediately recognized her voice. It was her again!
“Wait! Is it you ma’am?”
She quickly glanced over her shoulder, showing a subdued smile, while walking through the doors which closed after her with a soft hiss.
This time however, things indeed seemed serious. Seconds after the 3rd repetition of the emergency broadcast, hell broke loose. The anomaly started rotating like a storm, shooting out red and yellow lightning bolts every few seconds. It transformed from calm unnatural beauty, into a wild storm of chaos and colors… 
His engagement didn’t last very long. He picked a target whose shields were already gone and simply started shooting. The Outcast did not expect an attack from him, so Kyle’s first kill became a fact. He was so surprised by this little victory that he forgot to evade the debris of his former target so he flew straight through the explosion. Countless alarms went off and pretty much every single screen in his ship started glowing red. Unable to regain control over his ship, Kyle pressed the big red button he hoped he’d never use. Praying to whatever was out there that the escape mechanism would work, he closed his eyes.