"To every man upon this Earth, death cometh soon or late. And how can a man die better, than facing fearful odds for the ashes of his fathers and the temples of his gods?" - Lays of Ancient Rome
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FIVE YEARS AFTER THE BATTLE OF DEMETER
FREEPORT SYSTEM, RECENTLY LIBERATED ANGEL CITY
The rain poured relentlessly, harassing the city goers of the recently liberated Angel City. It was only midday, but with the clouds it looked much later. Neon signs reflected brightly off the drenched pavement, leftover decorations from the Frontier Republic liberation party littered the skyline and streets - traits of a busy metropolis that was active day and night, rain or shine. Those who wished not to be drenched by the bombardment of rain took shelter wherever they could, overcrowding local bars and shops.
Mike's Downtown Pub was no different.
Dozens of patrons dug in, ordering drinks while they waited out the storm.
Many had to stand as the seats around the bar and booths alike were all occupied.
A lone Militia pilot managed to get one of the seats around the bar, having been there awhile, staring lifelessly at the screen while he drank. It was a common known fact that one could tell a lot about a person just by observing them in the Frontier. The soldier was no exception to this fact. Many patrons observed him.
The pilot had tired sapphire blue eyes, which were distant and unfocused. His hair, while short enough to be a identifiable as a soldier, was messy and ruffled, likely cramped in his helmet for quite some time. His facial hair was overdue for a shave. The man likely went a day or two without shaving, leaving significant stubble on his face. His face, relatively young but hardened, had a scar travelling along his cheek and down his lip. He stank of sweat and alcohol, common traits of a Pilot it would seem.
The standout pilot leaned against the bar, resting his head in his arms.
"Another shot of Whiskey." The man abruptly demanded.
Upon hearing the request, the bartender knelt, retrieving a bottle and poured the dark liquid into the Soldier's glass.
Without hesitation, the man downed the drink and slammed the glass back onto the bartop.
"Want another?" The bartender asked, hoping to continue making a pretty penny off the thirsty warrior.
"No. That's it."
"Alright, well you just lemme know if you change yer' mind. Glad to serve the boys in green." The bartender nodded and went on to serve other customers.
The Pilot ignored the attempt at feigned flattery and instead focused on the TV screen suspended crudely from atop the bar.
A smoking building with the headline "Attack on Harmony" was plastered on the screen, garnering the Pilot's full attention.
"Hey, can you turn on the volume?" The Soldier pointed to the TV screen when the bartender looked over his shoulder to respond.
"Hmm? Sure thing."
The bartender grabbed the remote from behind the counter and turned the volume up.
"Reports are coming in from multiple sources! What at this time appears to be a terrorist attack, took place less than an hour ago on this Frontier Republic facility, claiming the lives of several Frontier Republic Militia soldiers and high ranking leaders! This has been the third attack on the Frontier Republic this month! So far, no one has claimed responsibility for these attacks and it certainly does not appear to be an IMC military operation! IMC operations seem to have taken a decline after Pilot Jack Cooper and the SRS led an assault against the IMC's experimental Fold Weapon facility! Currently, Frontier Republic Minister of Defence Marcus Graves and President Day have made no statement regarding the attack! With no clear motive or witnesses, it is unclear who is waging this private war against the Frontier Republic! We'll keep you updated when more reports come in!"
The soldier exhaled loudly from his nose and cursed. "God damn it…"
"Know anybody there?" A voice asked, disturbing the Pilot's trance.
The soldier looked to his right, expecting to see someone sitting next to him. He raised a brow when he saw no one in the stool to his right.
"Down here."
The Militia pilot looked down, seeing a man in a wheelchair looking up at the screen. It took the soldier a moment to process the oddity of the situation, but he carried on.
"Yeah. A couple." He finally answered before looking back at the screen with a tinge of pain in his eyes.
"Then what brings you out here, Pilot? I thought all the Militia troops pulled out after the celebration?"
"Had some personal business to attend to, I'm looking for someone."
"Oh? Job well done? Celebrating over a drink?"
"Wouldn't say celebrating. More like reminiscing."
The soldier pointed to a tattered sketchbook resting atop the bar next to his empty glass. Assorted sketches and printed photos were a common place among the pages.
"Still looking?" The man asked, unable to get a view of the photos from where he sat.
"Yeah." The Militia pilot tapped the bartender on the shoulder as he passed, requesting another shot against his better judgement.
"I'm looking for someone, too."
"Bartender, make that two." The Pilot added to his order, buying a drink for the crippled man.
"Thanks, you're too kind."
"Who are you looking for?" The pilot handed a glass to the Wheelchair ridden man, either not having heard the compliment, or choosing to ignore it deliberately.
"My daughter."
"Missing?"
"Has been for years. My wife...she...passed some time ago. And after losing my legs in the war, we fell out. I've been looking for her ever since."
"You fought in the war? What unit?"
"Titan Wars, youngster. Before your time. Must say though, son. That's a fine rifle you've got. Had one like that myself."
The man admired the G2A4 slung from the Pilot's shoulder.
"Titan Wars? Didn't think there were many of you veterans left. What are you doing all the way out here? And thanks...It...belonged to a friend."
"I know my daughter came out here, running off on some adventure. And I guess I'm stuck here since Demeter is out of commission."
"...Right...Sorry about that..."
"Don't be. Gives me time to think and search."
The pilot's gauntlet began to blink rapidly, alerting the soldier of an incoming call coming from his wrist pad.
"One second." The soldier downed his whiskey and pressed his wrist pad, accepting the call.
The screen displayed a woman. Commander Sarah Briggs of the Militia SRS.
"Commander." The Pilot acknowledged, fixing his slightly intoxicated and agitated tone, showing her due respect.
"Captain." The woman nodded. "Where have you been?"
"Angel City. Did a little bit of searching after we wrapped up here."
Commander Briggs sighed, showing either pity or slight annoyance for the Pilot. It was unclear.
"I need you back. I'm sure you've seen the news."
"Yes, ma'am." The soldier confirmed. "Was just watching. Got anything yet?"
"That's why I'm calling. Day and Graves need you back here asap. We've got a job to do."
"Understood, Ma'am. I'm on my way."
The call ended, returning the data pad to a dark screen resting on the Pilot's wrist.
Getting off the bar stool, the soldier reached for his helmet and left the money he owed on the table top, preparing to leave.
"Nice speaking with you, but duty calls." The Pilot gently placed his helmet over his head.
A light blue soon lit up the bar, coming from his visor.
"I hope you find your daughter."
The pilot unslung his rifle and began walking for the door.
"I hope you find whoever it is you're looking for as well, Soldier." The man raised his glass out of respect. "...I didn't catch your name, though."
The Pilot looked over his shoulder, noticing he had caught much of the bar's attention. Obviously it was no coincidence that he was sprung into action after watching the news.
"Caleb."
Captain Orion nodded and stepped out into the rain.
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TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING
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A/N: ROUND TWO! Caleb and the Militia are back to fight for the Frontier yet again in the sequel! Updates may be a little slow since I've got to balance this and my flagship story; Strangers in a Strange Land. But obviously with the completion of Titanfall the Frontier, I put my money where my mouth was and stuck with the whole "Finish whatever I start" mantra. So this will get the love it deserves. Trust me I've spent a long time waiting for the chance to finish up the first one and write the continuation. Hope you guys like it, I'm really hyped for it!
Let's do this!
-Dan, The Dusty Scrub.