"What have I become? My sweetest friend. Everyone I know, goes away in the end." - Johnny Cash, Hurt.

TITANFALL: DEAD MEN WALKING

CHAPTER 3: AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON

THE FRONTIER
FREEPORT SYSTEM - PLANET HARMONY
MCS REDEYE - DRY DOCK
CAPTAIN CALEB ORION

The cabin door slid open, revealing a dark and dusty room, appearing to be untouched for several years.

Captain Orion stepped inside with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Lieutenant Wright following close behind.

"No one's been in this room for five years. At least, that's what I was told by the previous crew. Everything should be as it was left." Wright examined the room, and then the Captain, watching his mannerisms closely.

She was studying him, looking for something about him that made him such an impeccable warrior. At least that was what she heard from the stories. For the new officer, analyzing was what she was good at. Orion, however, was not easy to study. He gave little physical cues and spoke even less. An oddity, the Lieutenant thought.

The pilot stayed silent, his head slowly scanning from left to right, taking in every inch of the room. He walked to the center of the room after flicking the lightswitch on.

The dim light flickered every few moments, in desperate need of maintenance or a replacement. Caleb's attention was brought to a glare, reflecting off a cracked mirror suspended from a dark brown wall that matched much of the old style Militia warship dorms. The mirror was cracked from the center, where it was missing several shards of glass and was stained by a dried red liquid.

"It's...All yours if you want it." The Lieutenant awkwardly awaited a response from the silent soldier.

Caleb's duffel bag dropped from his shoulder, making an audible crash when it impacted the steel floor. He took in every detail and every memory that came with it.

The sudden loud crash made the Lieutenant flinch. She fidgeted, becoming uncomfortable with the silence. She tapped her foot and finally spoke again.

"...I can move you to another room, if this won't do-"

"It's fine, Lieutenant." Caleb finally spoke after taking a long gaze at himself in the flickering mirror. "This'll do."

"Right." The Lieutenant nodded before noticing Orion staring himself down in the mirror, with a new level of hatred she couldn't even fathom. "...I'll umm...I'll go make sure we're ready to launch, meet me on the bridge whenever you're ready, Sir."

The woman slowly stepped out of the Cabin, giving the Captain some room, shutting the door behind him.

Caleb sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before sitting on the edge of the bed, taking a handful of the old bed cover in his hand. His grip tightened, remembering the feeling of the material.

He quickly got to his feet and walked around, inspecting the cabin for any other relics of his past. Opening the closet, Caleb looked through the old style Militia combat uniforms and Sniper jumpsuits. One item, caught and kept his attention, however. There was nothing special about it, it was just a green hoodie with the Militia's now famous logo on the right side of the chest. His hoodie that Allison would regularly borrow.

He unzipped his heavy combat coat, dropping it with his discarded duffel bag. Sliding his arms through the sleeves and zipping the lightweight garment up, the officer looked in the mirror, feeling a lot younger now that he had his hoodie back. Regardless of what little joy it brought though, he couldn't shake the feeling that it was wrong, and Allison should still be there, wearing it.

Caleb sighed again, looking down at the ground, wondering why he kept getting pulled in by the Militia, as his intense will to fight fell off a building five years ago. And yet he was back in the same spot, wearing the same uniform. It wasn't that he didn't care what happened to the Frontier. No, it was a sense of exhaustion, physically and mentally. He had tried convincing himself during the ride over to the Redeye that if he could prepare Wright and her troops for the new phase of the war, than perhaps finally a tired warrior could have his rest. He tried, and still hadn't fully convinced himself yet.

"What's wrong, Caleb? You look exhausted."

Caleb looked up, seeing a much younger version of himself in the mirror, wearing grey IMC fatigues, joined by a Pilot wearing a similarly coloured jumpsuit. The woman leaned against the wall behind him, her arms crossed, a signature concerned expression painted on her face.

He looked over his shoulder, expecting to see someone there, staring back. And there she was. Caleb groaned and smacked his forehead, trying to snap out of it. He knew she wasn't really there.

"...Why won't you just leave me alone…"

"Last time you asked me to leave you alone, that didn't really go over well, did it?"

Caleb grit his teeth and clenched his fists, trying with every ounce of his being to withhold his rage.

"What the fuck did you just say to me?"

"Truth is, I'm here because you want me to be. You don't want to be alone."

"So what is this then? You're dead, I'm here...like the punchline of some sick joke? I get it, okay? I'm a failure, is that what you wanted to hear? You gonna follow me around until I put a bullet in my head or something? Huh? Gonna scream at me, make me remember that god damn moment everytime I see a photo of you?"

The soldier pointed and went on the offensive. The apparition just stood there, listening to him rant like she always would.

"No. I just want you to let go and forgive yourself."

Caleb turned his back while running a hand through his hair, grabbing a chunk of his locks in stress.

"I can't."

"Why, Caleb? You can't spend your life hating yourself and hiding behind that helmet. They need you."

"You know who else needed me? James MacAllan, Eric Keller, Philip Spear….Allison Sorin. You needed me. I can't let you go...because you were my everything, and without you I've got nothing left..."

"We both know that isn't true…"

"No. No we don't."

Caleb went for the door, more than finished with their conversation.

"Caleb, don't go. Not again. Take my hand."

Captain Orion stopped at the door and looked over his shoulder.

"You're not real..."

The soldier left, not looking back despite the cries of his name ringing in his ears.

He had remembered off by heart where the bridge was and wasted no time making his way there, now only focused on the mission.

Captain Orion stopped in front of the massive door and was immediately granted access by the two star struck guards controlling entry to the bridge.

Once the dishevelled officer stepped in, he could immediately see where the changes had been made to update the war ship. New technology likely reverse engineered from IMC equipment replaced the primarily civilian modified equipment they were using back in the day, much like their warfighting equipment as well. He took note of the doubled crew as well, now that the militia had the numbers to field a fully operational military.

"Captain Orion, over here."

A man called for Caleb. Warrant Iroh.

Joined by the Lieutenant and numerous Sergeants, Caleb could assume this was the key leadership of the platoon he'd be overlooking in a sense.

"What do we have?" Caleb marched his way over to the display renovated display console, looking much newer than the hobbled together mess kept functioning by Bish and MacAllan's efforts half a decade prior.

"The ship is fully operational and is ready to leave immediately. We're hauling a full complement of crow dropships and a couple fighter squadrons, giving you leathernecks some support. We've also added an additional Titanbay for numerous titan squad deployments." The Redeye's new commanding officer, Captain McKay, made the ships status known to the Pilot before turning the Wright. "We'll get your men there in no time, Lieutenant."

Lieutenant Wright nodded. "Thank you, Sir. We should probably get moving as soon as possible once Commander Barker and Briggs get aboard, it could take us some time to get there."

"Of course, I'll have the crew get us in the air soon, touch base with me once your briefing is complete."

McKay turned to leave before stopping.

"One more thing. You should know, Lieutenant. I've had the communications team try to raise the colony but we're having difficulty. At this time it's unknown if it's on our end or theirs. I'll let you know once we establish successful contact."

The Naval officer dismissed himself, retreating towards the pilot station, informing his flight crew of their destination and imminent departure.

"This complicates things." Iroh muttered, unamused.

Lieutenant Wright sighed and hoped it was an issue with the Redeye's equipment rather than fearing the worst.

Wright turned to the senior Pilot, Caleb, and watched him expectantly. "Sir?" She gestured to the tactical display.

"Your briefing, Lieutenant, don't let me stop you." The scruffy pilot crossed his arms and planted himself next to her in the briefing.

Nervously, the officer stepped forward. The Sergeants came in closer, preparing their notepads.

"...Before we begin, allow me to introduce you to Captain Orion, President Day personally attached him to the unit for this mission, so be sure to thank the good Madam President for sending us the extra platoon." Wright cracked a joke, trying to break the ice; comparing the Captain to an entire platoon.

A handful of the NCOs chuckled, briefly looked up to the Captain and immediately fell silent when they saw him simply observing the display patiently.

"...Anway, moving on." Wright cleared her throat. "We'll be the Vanguard for this mission. Jack Cooper will be bringing the 4th Grenadiers once they wrap up their investigation here, but for now, we're on our own. We'll arrive at Alexandria, get on the ground and establish an all around defence of the village and investigate possible reasons for assault and avenues of approach."

A couple of the men sighed, unsure how they were supposed to tell their troops they'd have little reinforcements outside the Redeye and it's air support.

"A colony goes dark and we're supposed to waltz in there with a heavy platoon and secure it against, so far, an enemy that we can't kill. I don't like it Ter."

"So far." Warrant Iroh stated.

Terra Wright raised her hand, silencing the group for a moment. "Look, John, I don't like it either. But for all we know, they haven't even gotten there yet. Could just be Marauders giving the local garrison too much trouble.."

"I'm not too sure." Caleb interjected.

Wright raised a brow. "What makes you say that?"

"The Marauders run by Herrick are…let's say, 'loosely' organized. Even less so now that Herrick's been hiding from public eye like a coward."

John Krauss, the Sergeant who spoke moments ago, leaned onto the display, tilting his head. "What does that do for us, Sir?"

"I don't think a couple of Marauders looking to swipe guns, money or a couple people to sell into slavery on the black market could take out a Garrison of troops and entire Frontier Republic colony filled with armed colonists."

"Meaning?"

"Expect a fight. A real fight."

A couple quiet whispers of discontent emerge from the small crowd of leadership.

"If we get there first," Wright reassured, "We can link up with the unit there and mount a proper defence, right?" The Lieutenant looked to the Captain for help, hoping her plan was feasible.

The Captain nodded slowly, agreeing with the junior officer to ensure the NCOs would fall in line.. "Of course. Good call, Lieutenant."

"Ter, what happens if we don't get there first?"

Wright was slightly uncomfortable having to face the prospect of showing up too late to find a bunch of dead colonists and fellow troops, but it was a good question.

"Well…" She sighed. "Then we-"

"We kill em' all." Orion interrupted. "The Lieutenant's orders stand. We secure the colony and if we get contacted, we win."

"With respect, Sir. You make it sound like it's going to be easy."

"No, but it's our job. So we'll use our small numbers and air support to our advantage. If we get contacted, we lead an enemy force into a killzone and if our machine guns don't take them down, I'd bet that a strike from the Redeye or it's fast reaction squadrons could."

"Excellent." Wright exclaimed. "Wagner, you and your heavy weapons detachment will stay with the Captain, who will site your machine gun positions if we come under contact. First squad will be on point with second and third watching the left and right flanks as we approach. Any questions?"

No one spoke up for the time being.

"Very well. We'll go over the plan once more with the troops once we're in range. For now, make sure your troops are well fed, well rested and have their kit operational and good to go by the time we get to Alexandria. Dismissed."

With that, the group dispersed to fulfill their respective tasks.

Caleb stayed, however, either to further examine the plan and colony's specs, or just so he'd have an excuse to not return to his cabin.

"How was that?" Wright asked, leaning against the table that housed the display.

"How long have you been an officer?" Captain Orion asked, eyes never leaving the table.

"That bad, huh?"

"Didn't say it was bad. I asked a question. I'm curious."

"Couple months, maybe. I was a Sergeant before, that's why they all still call me by my first name." She chuckled before sighing. "Hard to start calling your friend 'ma'am' I guess."

"A Sergeant?" Caleb raised a brow before looking at the rank on her shoulder. Not at all what he expected.

"Battlefield promotion." Wright clarified. "Platoon commander got hit the moment we hit the deck and then the Warrant not long after, I stepped up and Iroh became my second in command."

"What the hell happened?"

"Typhon happened."

Caleb nodded, remembering that the initial landings at Typhon were a nightmare, and without Cooper, the mission would have failed for sure.

"I was just an infantry soldier, not a pilot. But after the fact, we got medals, and boom, I'm a pilot and an officer...ha...can you imagine that stupidity?"

"Yes." Caleb reached into the old hoodie, searching for something. Moments later, he retrieved two patches. They were old and frayed. One, an IMC Lance Corporal patch, the other, a Militia Sergeant rank.

The woman's eyes widened at the sight of the patches.

"You were an IMC Grunt?" She whispered, knowing full well what the reaction of the crew would be.

"I was a kid. Stupid. Inexperienced. Thought I was doing the right thing." Caleb didn't whisper. He simply lacked any care what the crew would think.

Drawing a lighter from his pocket, he burnt the IMC patch until it was black and unrecognisable. He cast the smoldering threads to the floor before smashing it with his boot.

"...What happened?" Wright asked, seeing the man in new light.

The Captain could sit her down, talk for hours about Lance Corporal Orion, Colonel Kenneth Maren and Captain Allison Sorin. The battles at Troy, Angel City and so on. He could tell the tale of James MacAllan and the 1st Militia Fleet. But Lance Corporal Orion was dead, and his story didn't deserve to be told.

"I grew up." The Captain curtly responded.

Wright cleared her throat uncomfortably. So far, this war hero wasn't exactly what he was cracked up to be. Everything she had heard depicted him as a well trained, experienced Militia officer. Now she was seeing an Ex-IMC raggedy kid with a beard and desperate need of a shower.

"So...Then you were a Militia infantryman?"

"Yeah. Just another Rifle." Caleb shrugged. "But that wasn't good enough."

"So you put on a pilot helmet and stepped into a Titan?"

"Pretty much."

"...Who taught you?"

"James MacAllan. A former IMC officer turned-"

"I know who James MacAllan is." Wright cut him off and quickly corrected her error. "Sir…I just didn't think the stories were true…"

"Look, Wright." Caleb sighed, slightly losing his patience. "This isn't about me. I didn't bring this up to talk about some dumb kid. My point is, I've been there, you'll learn. It's not gonna be easy, you're gonna hate it at times. But give it just that...time, and cut yourself some slack."

Wright analyzed his instructions before nodding, even if she didn't fully understand.

"Never take time for granted." Caleb looked to the floor briefly. "I learned that the hard way."

"Understood."

"Good. Now follow your own instructions and rest up."

Caleb pushed himself off the table, heading for the door.

"What were they like?" Wright asked, out of the blue.

"What?" Caleb looked over his shoulder.

"The original crew...the first fleet. You only ever hear about them in stories."

Caleb pondered for a minute, reflecting on his time spent with the original crew of the Redeye and his team in particular.

"They were heroes. Loyal to freedom on the frontier, not the freedom to smuggle and pillage. They wanted peace. They were excellent soldiers and pilots. My friends. My…"

An image of Allison flashed into his head once again, resulting in a noticeable change in expression. He shook his head and fixed his posture.

"Get some rest, Lieutenant."

Captain Orion abruptly stepped out, moving to check his equipment to be battle ready.

A/N: Sup guys! Back at it again. Personally had a lot of fun with this. Gonna try and delve more into the whole PTSD side of conflict while continuing to develop Caleb and the new crew. Hope you guys are enjoying the follow up. For those wondering about the next chapter of Strangers in a Strange Land, its coming too and getting real close to completion (its a good one too).

Thanks guys, stay awesome.

-Dan