Raining Fire – Birth

So I’ve decided that I will write a story as a way of having people frequent my blog haha. Also I have a lot of creative ideas and as I will probably never get published I wish to at least share them with the most trusted people I know; internet randoms. So please check regularly for the short updates of a young space pilot known as Beau. Fearless in most regards he is more reckless than brave, more rash than sane and more giving than most. 

Hope I get some hits on this passion of mine ^^


So the story will not be in posts but will have double spaces in between entries and a ———————————————-



He breathed the cool recycled air through his respiratory system. The stars shone bright reflecting on the perfect metallic finish of his wings. The canopy of his cockpit the only restraint stopping him from leaving his metal, grey world behind for the stars and the nova. But his horizon was then clouded by the great moon that rested just off of his current stationary planet. Deep, darkly mist swashed its way out of the many craters puncturing its surface. War torn from many years of senseless conflict its new rich resource now obvious to its neighbors who are now leaving no stone unturned. But as the mist swirled and turned under the young pilots watchful eyes he remembered it wasn’t always that way.  How once this oddly coloured attraction was known for it’s darkly colour rather than the now obvious contents. But after the cunning attack on the sought after planet and the suicidal attempt at destroying the planet and its moon for all, its essence was now displayed for the whole universe to see. No longer a thing of beauty but now of greed and dreams.

The neighbor of this dark, intricate mass was the pearl of the system. Bright with its crystal clean waters and lustrous mountains, mineral rich and highly sought after. Not only for its standout obvious attractions but also for its tactical military position. It was the only mass large enough and in the correct state to support many different kinds of life, it was roughly in the midway from what was known as the Humanitarian Alliance & Govern and the other faction simply known as Seedo. Although much of the space between planets and the land masses that were capable of supporting life were designated a faction, it did not necessarily mean that the nation would fall under its rule. It may be flogged, beaten and governed but still not follow the rule of those who call themselves its leader; the young pilot felt every one of those words.



He breathed the cold sterile air again as he came under fire.

“Beau wake up, you just let Fury tap you”

“Ooo Crow asleep on the job again” the jeering voice taunted him through his head set.

This snap back to reality was both embarrassing and scary. His blood ran cold as one of the more spray and pray, go lucky members of his squad hit him. Being the leader of this elite band had its perks. Its advantages. Its luxuries. But it was also riddled with pain earned from many sources. This laughable jeer just another mark on the wall. He was one of the best, he had to be, he was captain. A spectacle it was at his age to be anymore then a rookie, the media loved it. The agency, the army, the government, hated it. To them it was just a means for them to get funding, a distraction from taxes and the failing, deadly war that they were unable to change.

For Beau it was all smile and waves for the public, being one of the most successful pilots and what was referred to as disability; his age, was a big weight on his shoulders. The media loved him, he was professional in his actions and a household novelty item. But it was the little interaction that he had with the media that made him such a hot topic. Young, professional and a total mystery. But in contrast to the bright lights of his stardom was that of what the defense forces had of him. Kept in the dark on many critical pieces of information made his work harder. Made him fight harder for his crew. Captains around the universe advised against him, because of some of his tactics. Tactics that spawned from this lack of information. A cold harsh lifestyle was all that met him when he was on base, so the freedom that he received while on the job was a shinny light in his overcast world. Respected by his crew for the time he took with his members, the care he took in their safety. Many say that they would never be able to take orders from those 10 years his senior. But this was not the case. Beau a child of poverty, the reason he was hated by his superiors so much was only slightly younger then most of his crew. A crew that grew up with the military, trusted by the military. So when he was spoken to as if he was 5 while the rest of his crew received honors he just ignored it. Stomached it. His brother the only junior to him. A critical piece of his crew if any. Hated for something that was uncontrolled, loved for his skill. A very thin rope he walked.



Beau felt his craft rumble as he was hailed with fire for the second time.

“You still asleep in there Crow haha, or maybe you just ain’t what you used to be!” Fury jeered again flying off around another sterile rock of debris.

“C’mon Crow this might not be as serious as usual but this isn’t doin’ you any good, get your head in the game and out of the stars” Bears word ringing through his head set.

His blood turned from ice to steam as he realized his idiocy, his selfishness. Captain, the elite, he had to redeem himself. He checked his statistics, just some minor hull damage. He checked his crew, all good. Overall his 6 were still with the upper hand, but only slightly.

“Hey Fury think that’s funny, check this” Beau said into his mike softly

“What you got Crow, those dreams really touchin you that much, hate to lose it, wouldn’t ya” Fury replied, pulling at every nerve he could.

Beau gunned his engines hurtling himself around the debris Fury was taking fire cover from. Building more and more speed he seemed to launch himself from the rock towards Fury as the two continued their cat and mouse. Allowing their ships to flirt with the empty rocks underneath and beside them, and passionately swinging in and out from each other they powered on. Beau still hadn’t let a shot off, to a seasoned veteran this said close quarters combat, to Fury just luck. Fury ducked down underneath the debris that loomed in front of him hurtling down then reefing his ship back up licking the surface. Beau hurtled upwards reflecting Fury’s moves.

“Guns for show” Beau whispered into his mike. Fury took note on his HUD that Beau’s ship was surmounting energy at the front of his ship, directly behind his twin cannons. Beau’s twin cannons mounted symmetrically underneath each wing begun to glow blue and slowly fading to red. They were meeting the hit point of thier trajectories. Fury charging his cannons in unison in an attempt to get the first shot off. 10 seconds.

9 seconds.

8 seconds. Beau reefed up what looked like a handbrake and hit the word on his console, “Reroute.” He then elbowed in a socket to his left. The handbrake had the opposite effect to the standard make, forcing his boosters into over drive. The socket popped out his set of blades mounted on his wings as the re-routed power diverged away from his guns leaving them empty. Rebinding to his blades drawing them back to his craft

“Knives, for a pro!” Beau yelled meeting Fury earlier than anticipated. Fury panicked missing his shot drastically. Beau passed Fury in what seemed like an uneventful sort of moment. His wings slowly cooling down, less shimmer evident on them with the passing seconds. The line was quiet, as Fury’s left wing disintegrated. 



He breathed again. Felt his skin go cold, there wasn’t much air in those suits, but for him a cold breeze blew and burnt every drop of sweat into his skin.

“Prac 1120, Conditions 1-2-1 over. Please return to docking bay 6. Firebird 3 limp Firebird 7 back to bay 6” a sterile, formal voice echoed over the intercom.

The crew of 12 turned around and headed home. From the debris field to shelter, to home. The crew of 12 were what was now labelled a Firebird squad. They were the elite. The SAS to the army, the SEALS to the navy. Their main role was object capture. When picking field locations for setting up or capturing headquarters, for landing colony ships or gathering those departing usually resulted in some form of fire fight. Getting hit hard when you are vulnerable, admirable in most strategist eyes. So when something doesn’t work you fix it, when you get hit you hit back. Initially it was a rather messy group of ships that looked after these operations. In the beginning numbers meant more than skill. But then this method was countered by ships deploying cannons that could wipe out whole fleets of attack birds in a single shot. As it became more and more risky smaller squads were used, skill became more important. Now squad sizes consisted of 12 or as many as a home ship would consider risking. If this elite squad lost then what else could you do but retreat? Fire your cannons and loose shields? Send out your whole squadron and have them wiped out? So the Firebirds became what was the most important part of every military conflict. Once a zone was won you deployed your ground troops and a new conflict unfolded, but this didn’t worry Beau. He was useless to the ground forces if he couldn’t win the high ground so that’s what he concentrated on.

His crew of 12 were elite, but weren’t viewed as their status suggested. Most were young military sons and daughters who the government thought would have a bright future in the armed forces. But what troubled many we’re 2 of the 3 exceptions.

The first was Bear, known as that to the whole crew stationed on his home ship he had been bear since he had existed for Beau. He was much older than the squad at 40 but was in no way any less of a fighter then the rest of them. He was a requirement to keep the squad in check. His age and experience invaluable in helping Beau keep his squad safe, invaluable in keeping Beau safe.

The second of the two exceptions was Beau’s brother. Far too young to be a pilot of any form of craft, let alone a fighter bird, he was skilled. He risked a lot to match his brother in everything they did and had an alternate perspective that allowed Beau to solve many strategic problems that not specialist or simulators could even alter. His acceptance into the squad forced upon the military, so every of Lukas’s moves were monitored, everything he did watched, everything he touched examined. One slip up is all it’d take.

The final exception to Beau’s squad was the man himself. Younger than most his squad at 19 he was revered by them as if he was Bear himself. His ability proven more then any could count. He cared too much for the job. He fought every fight as if it was his last. He was different to his squad who were on average 22 but this didn’t stop him. Every hindrance a challenge, every problem a task.



They all hated it, it was a nightmare no matter what crew that got, or what ship they were on. Docking. So many regulations, so much time. After what would be a good work out, after having the guts flogged out of them, after giving all they had, regulations were the last thing they wanted to deal with. It frustrated them even more as the ships would be moved out of their allocated docking bays for repairs within the hour anyway. But it was regulation, it was law. It was Beau’s responsibility to keep his crew safe, not only from the gun fire but from the politicians as well. So he gritted his teeth again as the new wait began.

The doors sealed shut, his cockpit degauss and brought his world back to a standstill. As the canopy of his cockpit slid off his world was dead silent. This was supposed to be his break, his leave, his holiday time. But he was still wound so tight that he couldn’t breathe. Bent over double with the pain from the stress. His world imploded.

“Oooo Captain Serious emerges” Fury taunted him as his cockpit slid open

“Haha yeah well you know better bro” Beau replied hiding behind his smile

His crew was good. Not just in battle but as a unit of people, as friends, they were perfect.

“Beau, your needed on the bridge, the patrolling ship Starlight and her Firebirds seem to want something from you and the captain” A young landing officer reported.

Beau was a taken back. The Starlight and her crew wanting anything to do with his crew only meant trouble. And they want ‘something’ the ambiguous word pulled at every string in his head, the lack of formality only worried him more.

Really his crew were guests in the system that they were currently stationed. Given leave after a tough fought battle on a neighboring world they had chosen a system where they could easily “jump” to their next mission. The word Jump made Beau smirk, it was probably the most misleading analogy he had ever had the stomach churning of running into. To say the least jumping was both un-pleasurable and disorientating, leaving quick attack missions as one of his most hated operations.

But still as he neared the bridge his mind wandered back to the other crew stationed on the same planet. They were ranked as one of the best squads throughout the universe. Called in on high-risk operations they used a fantastic display of teamwork and skill to overcome. The bit that nagged at Beau was the fact that they were stationed on one of the most low risk planets compared to those in the system ‘next-door.’ It was true that the planet was highly sought after but to be able to jump into attack range of the planet you would have to trip one of the numerousHumanitarian Alliance & Govern sensors. So why here, why now? Not only was it odd for them to be stationed where they were they also shared what many other Firebird crews did. A hatred for Beaus crew. It was forced into their heads that Beaus squad were unfit, untrained and under skilled for any operation. Any relations his crew had with the Starlights were strained to say the least.

As those elevator doors slid back the hum of the bridge impacted on him, and that pearly white smile turned his stomach.


Published on April 8, 2009 at 12:37 pm  Leave a Comment  

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