Typhon.
This wasn't right.
A hero deserves better.
Two short phrases. A mere 7 words in total.
They kept repeating themselves, over and over, again and again, in Jack Cooper's head, as he carefully placed another rock onto the fallen Militia pilot's surface grave he'd been so diligently and solemnly building.
If he didn't know any better, he could've sworn that those words were some kind of telepathic ( if you believe in telepathy ) message, being beamed directly into his mind. Needless to say, of course, he knew it wasn't.
They were his words, but he hadn't spoken them. Not yet. They were just reverberating around inside his head, repeating themselves on an incessant loop.
This wasn't right.
A hero deserves better.
Jack couldn't stop himself from letting them do it. He couldn't shut off that repetitive circuit, of those thoughts of his from staying at the front of his mind. Even when they subsided for a few minutes, they returned on their own. Of all the thoughts and memories, and emotions on his mind, those two were standing at the top of the pile.
They weren't loud, but he kept focusing on them.
Like whispers of ghosts.
Jack knew exactly where they were coming from, though. They were not ghosts; they were coming from a cold, enraged part of him.
Cold that didn't fit with his surroundings. He was, after all, on Typhon, which was a lush, temperate, and tropical planet. Yet, Jack still felt drops of icewater in his veins.
All the teeming masses of vibrant, emerald shaded flora, the sunrays lighting everything up, all added up to put Typhon near the top of the list of the most beautiful and hospitable planets he'd ever been to. It was the kind of place that he could easily consider returning to for his next leave.
At the moment, however, he wasn't paying much attention to any of that.
And he knew exactly why.
This fallen Militia pilot he was putting to rest, was none other than Captain Tai Lastimosa.
" This is what we're fighting for, Cooper ".
Seated in the crook of a cheery tree's branches, Tai Lastimosa spoke with his distinctive, slightly Commonwealth drawl as he gestured with a fingerless- gloved hand at the landscape sprawling out before and in front of him.
One that consisted of waves and waves of lush, healthy grass rolled out, extending for miles and miles. Like a carpet, they were draped over a half dozen low, gentle sloped hills not far from the tree, their individual blades waving under a light breeze.
That would've been pretty and scenic enough on its own, but there was more.
Studded around the area, down from the base of the rise that the tree sat on, and including on the hills, were towering rock formations. They didn't seem, though, to even be rocks at first glance; their sides and tops were seemingly cut and carved into near-perfect edges and lines, that gave the formations the same appearance that Giant's Causeway does: steps and platforms.
Some were virtually upright. Others were slanted to various sides. But, all of them had a symmetrical, orderly beauty to them. They formed a field of their own, stretching out nearly as far as the field of grass, out to the horizon itself.
Standing at the base of the tree, Jack Cooper gazed out over this vista ( 7 is much better ), slowly turning his head from side to side to take it all in.
" A land that's not fire and smoke. Somewhere that's ours. Land we can call our own. "
Jack nodded at his captain's words.
He'd heard them, but more than that, he'd listened to them. He knew all to well what Lastimosa was conveying with his words: how much he loved the Frontier, and how much he valued the right of the Militia to live in it according to their own rules. He was someone who was an example of that mindset of independence and freedom that defined the Militia.
They were a community, all of them. The land that was one of theirs, was all of theirs.
And not that of the IMC. As if they could comprehend that.
" It'd go well on a postcard ", Jack agreed aloud. " But, I kind of miss Angel City ".
Lastimosa laughed at that. " You city boys ! Always craving your high rises, and shiny buildings. Of course, that there's anything wrong with it, fundamentally- its more fun to live in a city than in the mountains- but, there something you need to remember: "
He gestured once again to the rolling hills again, and the geometric towers of rock that formed a buffer between them and the small grove of cherry trees, one of which Lastimos was currently using as an observation post.
" Its the land itself that belongs to us. I want for you to always remember that, ok ? No matter where we fight, if its on the Frontier, then its ours. Dead IMC ? That's the only way any of them are staying on the Frontier, if we have anything to say about it."
There was strong conviction as he spoke. Lastimosa was one of those officers who could be inspiring without being grandiose and overtly poetic. Some might call him an idealist, but Jack didn't consider that to be so.
To him, Lastimosa was an embodiment- or at least a strong example- of the whole essence of the Militia, and what they fought for: the Frontier. This was what they all fought for.
This, was their cause. Whether he knew it or not, Lastimosa was a motivation for Jack to keep fighting for that. He was the exactly the kind of solider Jack aspired to be; let alone that he was a pilot, and a highly accomplished one at that, of the Militia's Special Recon Squadron who was here, in a VR sim, training and educating him to become a pilot himself.
He was a hero, and Jack was proud to be his student.
" You're saying, we live for that land, aren't you ? ", Jack craned his neck to peer up at his Captain.
" Indeed, kid ", Lastimosa nodded.
He pulled off his helmet then, and looked down ( literally, of course ) at Jack, meeting his gaze.
" We live on it, yes. And upon death, we'll stay under it. "
Jack could tell Lastimosa was serious about every word. This was why he followed him:
Some would call this idealism, but it was not. It was what a true believer in real and legitimate freedom was. Someone willing to fight for it.
Someone who understood, that peace isn't free.
The rock grave was complete.
Tai Lastimosa's rock grave. Jack has just finished placing, with great reverence and dignity, as much as he could muster, atop the mound of Typhon rocks and stones that were now covering Lastimosa's remains.
His remains. Because, the man himself was gone. He was well and truly gone.
Jack had just finished burying him. Burying his teacher, his mentor, his captain.
A hero.
Lastimosa had been all of those.
The first 3, to him. He'd understood what becoming a pilot was to Jack. To become a pilot was his greatest ambition, the one thing that Jack had stayed awake at night thinking about, because to him, becoming a pilot was the best way he could fight for that great cause of theirs: Freedom from the IMC, and freedom for all on the Frontier.
Lastimosa had been taking him on that road. He saw potential in Jack, as he'd often said. He beleived Jack was cut from the righr cloth to be a pilot, and he didn't want that potential to be wasted. Permission from the Milita brass or not, he'd taken it upon himself to train and mold Jack into a pilot, as he wanted so badly.
He'd always maintained his faith that Jack was worthy of joining the ranks of the pilots. He'd always believed in Jack, because he wanted to.
Now, he was dead. Gone.
Jack hadn't spoken a single word all along.
He had nothing to say.
Jack could feel the hardness of the stony riverbank he was on beneath the armor of his knee pads, could hear the gurgle of the water, could see the shadows of the hanging branches of the trees overhead, and was essentially aware of every facet of his surroundings, but just as before:
He felt as if he were miles away from it.
He stared at the pile of stones and rocks. It was all he could do to put Lastiomosa to rest. There was no ground anywhere nearby that was suitable to dig in. It was just impossibly hard, rocky ground, with canyons and ravines carved into it. The river wove through it all, nourishing the foliage that grew all around it.
Jack hated that. Typhon was so beautiful, but it wouldn't let him bury Lastimost into the ground. Into the land itself, as he deserved. Lastimosa was a man who fought for the denizens of the Milita's right to live on their land, and to be buried under it when they died- and yet, for his own death, he couldn't join them.
His remains were uncovered, but that wasn't enough for Jack. He knew he'd done right by his captain, by at least covering his body. But, he couldn't shake the feeling- the overwhelming, nagging- feeling, that he hadn't done everything.
He hadn't even said anything over the grave. You were always supposed to speak over the grave of someone you'd put to rest, but-
Sorry, Captain. I don't have anything. This isnt- This is so- I don't know how to do this. You dying was so much the last thing on my mind when you were my teacher, when I knew you, that now that you're gone-
I don't know what I should say. Is anything I could say even right ?
Jack dropped his head, exhaling. Anger, sadness, and that coldness were all fighting for dominance in him, and he couldn't think clearly.
Maybe that was good.
He let his gaze wander around for a bit, taking in the rocky, and jungle draped corner of Typhon he was in. In the distance, the treeet, treet, treet of some kind of local bird , or a flock of them, sounded .
This place, this world, was Lastimosa's mausoleum. In a way, it summed up the Frontier overall: beautiful, but watered with the blood of good and brave men, fighting for their homes and the idea of living free.
But, its still not your true home, sir.
That goes to another world:
" If I am the city kid, what about you ? "
Though he was moving at a fast jog, nearly a run, Jack put the question forth casually. It was a good way to measure how well you could control your breathing while running, if you could manage even light conversation while doing so.
Jack wasn't one to boast, but he seemed to be doing fairly well. Better than he thought, at least.
" Just saying: I don't think I caught where you're from. "
On his right, easily matching his pupil's speed, Tai Lastimosa smirked. The older man was in the psychical condition of a man 20 years younger, his boots pounding the tarmac of the ex IMC airbase who's hangar row they were running the perimeter of.
Twin barreled Paladin tanks, and armored Gremlin 4x4 trucks trundled by past them, approaching and and bypassing them. Some had Militiamen riding them, who offered waves and shouts of encouragement to the joggers.
" Fair enough. I'd say we've known each other enough for that. ", Lastimosa agreed. He didn't even sound remotely exhausted.
" Harmony. That's my origin point. Remember that stroll we took in the countryside ? Reminded me a heck of a lot of Harmony. "
Jack was forced to cut partially in front of Lastimosa to avoid an oncoming Gremlin, then drifted back.
This was something he wanted to hear. Anything that was about Lastimosa's past, not just his legacy and reputation. He was more believable, and easier to follow that way. Jack would respect him more.
" Harmony, eh ? I haven't been there. Is it really like where we were ? "
" The more scenic areas are, at least. I grew up in a mid sized town, surrounded by land just like that. Every day, I was proud to be a citizen of that world. "
" Just as proud, let me tell you, to be fighting for others like it. "
Now, that was a cause.
It was a sentiment Jack could fully get behind. They were both Frontier citizens, and they were both fighting for it. They were brothers, and they would share the glory of the liberation of the Frontier together.
" After we boot the IMC out of here ", Jack suggested. " You can go home again. I mean, really go home. "
" All of us can, Jack " Lastimosa agreed.
" All of us. "
All of us can go home
No, he couldn't.
Lastimosa wouldn't get to return to Harmony. At least, not alive. Ultimately, the Militia would have to ferry his remains home, but it wasn't the same.
Typhon would be his resting place now. His home wouldn't get him back.
Jack rubbed both hands over his face, gritting his teeth.
" God, I haven't ever been this lost "
The drive to say something was overwhelming, but his mind was blank ! But, he couldn't leave this descendant of Harmony lying under Typhon's rocks, without saying something right over him first.
He couldn't. But, what could Jack say ?
Think. You need to think.
Willing himself to do so, Jack uncovered his face, and quieted his mind. He knew it could only last a few minutes, at the moment, but it would have to do.
He let his mind drift, through memories, looking for something that had any real meaning that he could speak over the resting place of the man who'd done so much to lead him to achieving the most sought after post of his life.
To lead him to becoming, a pilot.
To be the master of a Titan.
Finally- and rather abruptly- Jack had it.
It was a godsend- and end to the mental maze Jack had been running through all along. He was stunned he hadn't realized it sooner.
But, he still had it now. He couldn't wait a moment longer:
Bracing his hands on his legs, and exhaling, he took a breath, and began:
" Captain ? This land, is yours now. Is this where you should be resting after death ? No, that should be Harmony. But, you were right when you said all land of the Frontier is ours. I want to bring what's left of you home. You deserve it. But, at the least, you'll have this world to keep you, until Harmony does again. "
After another moment's pause, Jack slowly, carefully, reached into one of his pocket's, and removed a metal rectangle dangling from a chain.
He looked at Lastimosa's tags, sitting in his palm.
All that remained of the man, that Jack wouldn't have to leave behind.
He clenched them in a fist, so tightly, it hurt. He bit his lower lip so hard, it hurt. But, he didn't care.
" And if I can't get your body home, I'll get these there. "
" Because one way or the other, Harmony will have you again. Your land will have you again. "
" Some say that revenge won't bring back who you want it for. To that, I say: That's not why I want it ! When was that ever why anyone wanted it !? Its not about bringing back who you lost; its about getting even ! Its about leveling the score !
That's why I want to keep fighting the IMC; not just because its either us or then, but because its personal now. Every one of us has lost someone to them, because they wouldn't leave us be. Well, now they're getting what's coming to them. Each of them that dies, is a molecule of recompense for Captain Lastimosa. How much is enough, you might ask ?
When they're all dead, or when I can't find anymore anywhere on the Frontier. There's your answer. "
- Journal of SRS Pilot Jack Cooper. Quoted verbatim to his CO, Commander Sarah Briggs.