-So after like what feels like 30 year hiatus, I am revamping Callsign Zephyr, and continuing the story. All chapters will be republished, with more-editing and story junk. Chapters will be longer meaning the "original" amount may seem like less chapters, but its all there. I will be trying to update this bi-weekly, and if not that, at least one new chapter will be up per month. Thank ya'll for the support, and i hope you stay with me a bit longer for more!

How does a rifleman become a pilot?

Many people know the story about how once-rifleman-now-pilot Jack Cooper got BT 7274. Many people also know that that doesn't happen often, like getting stuck by lightning in the desert while hopping on one leg often. The way most become pilots is through rigorous training, testing, running around sims and jumping over really tall shit. That's for most of us, while others get a trial by fire, I mean literal fire too.

Now as for me, I was just a grunt, a rifle man that several pilots had taken for granted. Well, rifle- woman; there's not a lot of female militia that I've met, but those of us here blend in well with our brothers in arms. Most of the squads with women have another female or two in it so we rare few aren't wide spread. As soon as a pilot notices it, they get real annoying about it, so most people don't correct them. Most grunts don't care too much as long as you can shoot a gun, but, god pilots can be douchey with that information. Don't even get me started on the pinup girls on Titans. Ah, well let me get on with it; I'm about to tell you about a very significant event in my life, but first a little background.

My name is Jeannine Olivia Johnson, or JJ, my family stayed home while I went to the Frontier. My life was pretty boring until I joined the militia, and I joined 'cause I faced the same problem that everyone else faced, the IMC. I used to live on this farming colony, beautiful place, serene almost with all the forests and intense wildlife. Originally the IMC kept to a small private mine, drilling for whatever ore our lovely planet had, and no one had any issues. However, they started expanding into people's land, hollowing large segments out so that it would collapse into sinkholes forcing people to leave or end up hurt, and causing huge tremors. Things only got worse from there.

Now, I've served a while with my squad, Callsign Zephyr. With our years of experience, we have enough skill and ability to become pilots, hell we've all done the sims, but no one's planning on it because we're all too close. We've never left anyone behind for anything and weren't gonna risk getting separated 'cause we were all a close-knit family. Of course, everyone in my squad knows I'm a girl, but everyone else outside of our squad won't realize until they actually talk to me and they use that to fuck with people. It's hard to see any feminine features in body armor and dirt with a short-shaved haircut. Or maybe it's the large scar on my face from a specter at Demeter. The metal bastard punched me real hard, square in the chin, causing a scar up to the cheekbone.

Now I look real pretty. Like, in a bad ass way.