I was at drill with the 12th when the wave came through. We'd heard rumors 'bout there bein' a force of reavers massin' and makin' their way through the Murphy system. I'd made plans to run the drill with my unit, then take off for Blackburne just in case those smelly bastards decided to make a pit stop. Too late, though, as everything came to a crunchin' halt and the 'nnouncement was made that my home was under heavy attack and that the citizens there were abandonin' the Downport and evacuatin' with everyone and anything they could get in Osprey II and any other available transport ship.
I've made my fair share of stands with the Blackburne Militia 'gainst Reavers, Raiders, Feral Mutants, Bots, and any other scum that came lurkin' into town with a mind to harm folk. I never for a second doubted that the Militia could hold off a pack of Reavers without me. Livin' in Blackburne, you sorta had to develop razor sharp survival instincts and fightin' skills to keep from endin' up just another unmarked grave in a sea of unmarked graves out in the Wastes. So to hear't they were retreatin' and evacuatin' shook me to the core. In all my time there, in all the horrible battles we'd struggled to win, even when the prospect of survivin' seemed bleak, we'd never once given thought to fleein'.
The order went out to launch a counter attack 'gainst the Reavers, maybe to hold 'em off and save the Downport, or to cover the civilians as they evacuated, and everybody scrambled into a ready state, all of us shellshocked. We'd all been waitin' to hear 'bout the 'lliance Loyalists launchin' an attack and havin' to meet 'em in battle on the ground or in the sky, we'd all been so focused on that particular threat that we hadn't been expectin' anything like this.
In the cockpit of my stryker, I waited, weapons strapped to me from head to toe in case I had t'opportunity to land and fight on foot. It was the waiting, the not knowing, the wondering if my friends were safe, if the people I loved had survived. I was plagued by ghastly images the whole trip... I'd seen what Reavers did to folk, the horrors that made suicide and an eternity in hell for it seem downright pleasant in comparison, and I kept seein' the faces of Blackburne citizens on the bodies of Reaver victims. It was like to drive me insane.
And then, we were there. And it was all smoke risin' from the town, obscurin' everything. Osprey II had made her escape with many of the Downport's citizens, and Seana'd shown up with Wave Equation, got thirty-one more. That was all I heard on my comm. That and a lotta curses. I don't reckon I made a sound as I flew in formation over the little town, now burnin', soon to be ash and rubble, cuz I was hit by memories, all so real I felt as though I could reach my hand out and feel everything there.
My first time in the Downport. I'd come in a transport ship I'd been barterin' work for passage on for a little over a month, thinkin' it'd be another quick stop in a long line of quick stops. Just another quiet little town alone in the night, strugglin' to get by, just like all the other hundreds of settlements on the rim. And I ran into Nack, who was warm and welcomin', tellin' me 'bout the moon's history and invitin' me to their shindig that night. I was standin' there, and he pulled out a camera and took a picture of me, just cuz he said it was gonna make a good picture. And it did. I still got the picture, too. Just me in front of a tree with a bird mindin' its own business off in the background.
That particular memory stuck in my mind, cuz it was then't I'd realized there was somethin' different 'bout this little town in the middle of God's nowhere. For some reason, I felt... well, I dunno, safe there. Accepted. Liked. It was a haven for folk like me, who were runnin' away from their pasts. Nobody asked too many questions, everybody helped out, and despite the hardships, it was all smiles and laughter, seemed like. So I'd decided to stay on there for a bit. Years in space tend to leave you hungry for land, for open spaces, for fresh air. Maybe Blackburne didn't have the freshest air, bein' green-tinged and radioactive and all, but it certainly qualified as land and had plenty of open space.
Mod settin' half the town on fire one night after the bar'd closed. Him and me were testin' out weapons, and he had this one that sent out... I dunno what it was, a fireball or somethin'... But half the gorram town was lit up with flames, and he was hollerin' 'bout how Nack was gonna kill him and kick him outta town as we spent the next hour runnin' 'round to put out all the gorram fires.
The bank stakeout with the Militia. We were bein' plagued by the gorram Wasteland Raiders, and recently, they'd scouted our bank. Ain't rightly sure what for, but after the theft of all our produce, includin' our turnips, we weren't 'bout to get caught with our pants down again. It started out with me and Amyla in bikinis, sunglasses and guns sittin' in lawn chairs in front of the bank to make damned sure no Raider'd get the drop on us. And it turned into a full blown party, with many townsfolk comin' out to join us. Someone even brought a grill and a bug zapper, which Archer managed to electrocute himself with more'n several times, much to our general amusement. Raiders never did show up for the party, but it was a good gorram day, full of laughter and friendship and love.
The buildin' of the new landin' pad. I remembered sittin' in lawn chairs with Lorie, "supervisin'" Nack and Lauralai as they worked on the new, bigger landin' pad, and watchin' as Nack landed his firefly on it for the first time. The look of pride on his face as he stood back and admired the way it all looked was priceless. Him and Laur'd worked tirelessly to make sure Blackburne was nothin' short of amazin' for so many years.
The many, many uncountable hours sittin' back on the porch of the bar, relaxin', socializin', gettin' to know folk, welcomin' newcomers, keepin' watch for trouble...
All the laughter in the bar...
Just a billion, billion memories of one place... And now, that place was gone.
Tears were streamin' down my face and I didn't even know it. The sense of loss was so profound, so palpable, that I felt it suffocatin' me. And my rage was intense. I wanted to fly down there and kill every last one of those bastards. But I knew I couldn't. Wouldn't be no point. And I'd be endangerin' the lives of my squad if I went on a rogue Reaver killin' spree. So I looked out the window of my cockpit and I silently said farewell to my home, now in flames, and I retreated back to base, feelin' useless and helpless and empty. It was as though I'd lost one of my best friends, and grieving' would be long-lived and hard.
But Blackburne Downport is worth all the anguish and the grief I'm feelin', that I know many, many countless others're feelin'. She was home to so many of us for so long, and she was a good home. And she'll always live on in our hearts and our memories.
1 comment:
*sniffle*
That was beautiful, Imhrien. I'm sorry I never kept up with the blogs back then to have read it when it was still fresh.
*hugs*
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