Okay, I have to tell you now, so that you don't get confused, although I would have rather have kept all info on this compeltely shut until the posting.
The parts in italics are the parts where the character is talking/narrating.
The parts where I start the descriptions will be the description of a battle scene.
OMG! CHAPTER FTW!
THE LEGEND OF THE GOLDEN EAGLES
Prologue: The Five Senses
Date: 10th June, Tuesday, 2549
Location: Unknown
“You know, as a Pilot, they say that the five senses are paramount to your survival. At first, you don’t see how… It’s not until you’re actually up there that you realise what they were talking about. You question yourself when you’re up there. You insult yourself for not listening to them. You call yourself stupid for not taking the advice of a senior pilot, and one who’s done so much. But you’re young, you’ve just enlisted, not even started training yet, and you get cocky.”
The Shortsword flew threw the Sky, at a ferocious rate of speed, and passed the land below as fast as it had appeared. The life of a Pilot was one of speed. The Pilot checked his com, his headgear, his battle camera, and armed his bombs.
“Sight, the one sense you desperately need if you are to fly. Huh, I guess that much was obvious.”
The Pilot squinted against the Mid-day Sun, and saw two strangely shaped objects, speeding towards him. Checking his radar, it registered them as hostiles. He thumbed his com, and reported the sight to his Squadron.
“Sound, without it, you’ll be dead or left behind in a matter of seconds. It’s paramount to be able to hear orders.”
“Move to engage, I repeat, Blue Squadron, move to engage. Mission must not be compromised, Blue One out.” The Pilot engaged his Rudder, and began a slow turn, and a strafe towards the enemy.
“Taste, maybe not so important in a battle, but it still doesn’t make it any less useful.”
The Pilot felt fear rising in the pit of his stomach. He could taste sick and bile, he knew he was afraid, but would he let that fear rule him? He turned hard-right and let lose a blast from his cannons. The shields flickered on the enemy Seraphs as they raced past. He looked out from the back of his fighter and saw them turning to engage. Flicking a series of switches, and pulling back on his steering handle, he did a hard-reverse, and tried to get a lock on the enemy, who had begun spouting white hot plasma at a frightening rate.
“Smell. If you can’t smell what’s happening, you would be a little clueless as to the condition of your Aircraft.”
The Pilot’s ship rocked and a loud series of metallic clangs pounded his ear drums. The violent vibrations from the ship continued to throw him into disarray, and he ended up doing a barrel roll down towards the ground. Smelling smoke, he looked out of his cockpit window, struggling against the massive G-Force. All he could see as acrid, black smoke billowing past him.
“Touch, now that may be a sense used when things go from bad, to worse, but it may save your life from the worse part. Not so sure about the bad part though.”
Pain suddenly burst into the Pilots leg, he yelled in pain, and upon looking down, could see the floor had melted, and the loose metal had flew up and embedded themselves in his leg. Gasping, he desperately looked for the eject button. As flames began to burst from his control panel and seriously burn him, he realised he would have to stick his hand into the raging inferno that was his Cockpit. Reaching in, he screamed as each agonizing second drifted slowly by. Finally feeling the Eject lever, be pulled with a laugh of triumph, and recoiled in horror, when the flames suddenly reached out and began to burn his face. The Pilot, amid his searing agony, felt a tug, and a brief second later, he was in the sky, on a chair. He couldn’t see, for his Fighter had let out enough smoke for it to cover his entire body. The Parachute deployed, and he felt at calm, as he slowly drifted to the ground. He saw his Shortsword, as it seemed to shrink, further and further away, until a very faint “Boom!” could be heard, and a small explosion lit the ground for a few moments. He breathed heavily, as the cooling wind blew against his horribly burnt skin, and he felt, no more.
Chapter One: Three Brothers
Date: 12th March, Sunday 2525
Location: Earth, Stockport, England, Europe.
“I have two other brothers. We never looked anything alike. Of course our Mother said different… Mum. I wish I could come just to see her smiling face as her Son she hasn’t seen for almost 30 years walks threw the door. I’m the only one who hasn’t been home since enlisting. It’s a horrible feeling… Not going home…Sometimes, I wish I could just end this war myself. You know? I would if I could, but even the Golden Eagles can’t end a war by themselves. Neither can Alpha Squad. And neither can the Hammer And Anvil Fleet. I hate this War and the fame that came with it…”
Patrick was the oldest. 22 years old, he had a Wife and a little house down in London. Although the others always wondered why he would choose London. Overcrowded as Hell, and barely anything to do. He joined the UNSC in 2520. He was soon sent off to patrol and fight the Insurgents. That’s what got him knocked up to a Staff Sergeant. And then, the rumours came back. Alpha Squad. The ones who were kicking the insurgents around like a Football. And Patrick was in it. Their Mother was so proud. And when he came home, he adorned us with stories of his many glorious adventures, although the remaining two brothers could tell he disliked talking about it. Then the year was 2523. And the second oldest brother, Matthew, headed off to join the Navy, much to their Mothers protest. And then we come to the youngest brother. He was just 18 at the announcement of war between the Humans and an Alien race. Earth was in uproar at the news. It scared a lot of people, and the Armed Forces received a lot of eager recruits. Mostly in the Navy and Infantry. But the youngest, Phil, wanted to join the UNSCAF. Pilot the Longswords, the Shortswords, the Pelicans and the other famous aircraft he had heard about. He wanted the speed that came with it.
“I headed straight off… I wanted to follow in Patrick’s footsteps. Alpha Squad? They were f*cking heroes of the highest order! I wanted the fame. But I had no idea it would just be a nuisance. I never knew I would one day be leading Golden Squadron. I got the fame. But was it worth it? Seeing people shot down, and us having to leave them? Our own comrades. Our Brothers In Arms, who we abandon because the Generals want to get their fat asses out of there. The screams of the dieing as they burn to death. It’s Hell, but I’m strangely at home in it.”
Phil was sat alone with his Mother in the living room. Watching the News about the war on the Television. Phil had to tell his mother but he didn’t know to. And he couldn’t just leave her. She was all alone. No Father, he had walked out years ago. She would have no idea what was happening to them, News was slow to reach Earth. Phil cleared his throat, as his Mother sat on the beige chair, clutching a cushion to her chest, waiting to hear from news of Alpha Squad, or Admiral Peterson’s Fleet. She swiftly turned her head towards Phil. He looked back at her, a look of regret on his face.
“Mum, I want t-”
“I know what you want… You want to join don’t you?”
“Yeah… I do. I want to get out there, and win for Humanity.”
“I can’t let you go Phil; you know I need you right now!”
“Mum! I have to, I need to!”
“You’re old enough to make your own decisions now Phil, but I really need you here, with me! I can’t be alone! Patrick comes home now and then, and I haven’t heard much from Matthew. You can’t leave me!”
“Mum, I have to! I can’t stay here and let the Aliens kill you all!” His Mother stood, and slapped him hard in the face.
“Don’t speak like that Phil… I’m warning you. DON’T EVER SPEAK LIKE THAT!!” She burst into tears, and ran out of the room. Phil just stared at the floor. He heard a door slam upstairs, and he sighed before walking silently upstairs too.
Inside his room, he packed a large amount of clothing into a bag, along with a few personal items. The only things that would remind him of home while he was thousands of light years away from it.
He had stashed the stuff under his bed, before telling his Mother that he wasn’t going to leave her. It pained him and made him hate himself. At exactly 12 PM, he sat up, fully dressed from his comfy bed, and grabbed the bag full of items from under the bed. Gently putting the bag down by the side of the stairs, he opened the door an inch to his Mothers room. Poking his face inside, he could just make out her sleeping figure in the darkness.
“I love you Mum. I always will… Never forget it.” She mumbled and turned, before Phil closed the door, and made his way downstairs. Opening the door, he took one last look at his house, before stepping out into the cold. That was the last time he would see his Mother, the last time he would speak to her, but not the last time he would think about her.
Chapter Two: Enlistment
Date: 13th March, Monday 2525
Location: Earth, Europe, England, Stockport Recruitment Centre.
He had stayed at a friends for the night. And now that it was daylight, he would head off to the Recruitment Office. His friend had offered to join with him. They both headed off to the Town Centre. Phil took a long, respectful look at his friend, Rizwan. He was of Asian nationality (HAPPY NOW RIZ?!?!?!) and he would join with the Air Force too. They would be in the same Squadron, Phil knew it.
“Goddamnit, where the f*ck are the Recruiters? Normally they won’t leave you alone when you walk down here.” Rizwan sounded frustrated as he spoke. Phil shared his eagerness to join. Fame awaited them, just like Phil’s brother, Patrick.
“I dunno Riz, maybe they’ve p*ssed off?”
“Yeah, maybe.” They both continued walking down the busy street, cars and buses passed them by in their hurry to get to wherever they had to be. Until eventually, among the huge crowds, they spotted the Recruiters. They had moved to the Eastern side of the Town Centre, and were handing out Leaflets to anyone who came within three metres of them. Riz and Phil sprinted towards them, stopping just short of crashing into the tallest of the Recruiters. He wore Olive Green drabs, and had his dog tag hanging out over his shirt. They both sported very short brown hair and were both around the same age. The second one came over and sniffed before talking to them.
“You boys here to sign up?” Phil and Riz nodded eagerly, and he handed them both a clipboard full of little boxes to tick. “Please tick all the boxes, and hopefully, it should all be in order.” The sound of the pencils scratching the paper was the only sound from the group of four for a full minute. Eventually, the two young men handed over their clipboards, and without even looking at them, the first and second Recruiter stamped them positive, and gave them a piece of paper, and an official looking envelope. They were told not to open it, and they were on their way, back into the hustle and bustle of the Morning crowd.
“Riz, we just got accepted… I think anyway.”
“Yeah, I think we did, look at the little card they gave us!” Phil examined it very closely, absorbing every word with his eyes.
“The candidate shall report to Stockport Boot Camp, for relocation and further orders. The candidate shall receive the proper equipment and be given their assigned units, according to what the Sealed Envelope reports. Signed: Lucas Mensley.”
They both laughed and cheered, no matter how many strange looks they got from passers by. They didn’t care; they’d be fighting for these people soon. Or at least, that’s what they thought.
The doors hissed open, and the shining white of the buildings walls were dazzling in the Early Morning Sunlight. Phil squinted, and could make out a white, marble desk, glinting ferociously in the Sun. The man sat behind it looked at them with a slight curiosity. He didn’t take his eyes off them, maybe seeing which one would walk forward first? Phil made to move, but Rizwan was far ahead of him. “We were told to give you these… Sir.” Phil caught up, and handed the man the paper, and the envelope. He eyed over the paper, and carefully read through each Manila covered sheet he extracted from the envelopes. He read Rizwan’s first. Without looking up, his eyebrows rose, and he whistled.
“***, a flyboy eh? Ha-ha, go ahead on in to the back room for a physical Airman.” He eyed Phil suspiciously, before taking hold of his envelope. Opening it carefully, he read through the writing. He looked up quickly at Phil, before darting his eyes back down to the writing. “I’d hate to be you right now kid, you’re Frontline.” Phil’s eyes could barely hide his disappointment, neither could his face. He stood, awestruck at what he’d just heard. “Only pulling your leg kid, you’ll be flying up there with the Eagles.” Phil gave a sarcastic chuckle, before walking off to the room where the Physicals took place. He would be going now. Nothing would stop him from achieving glory. And he would show those Alien b*stards what happened when you kick Earth around, just like Patrick was. And Matthew.
Chapter Three: Welcome To Boot!
Date: 13th March, Monday 2525
Location: Earth, Europe, England, Somewhere in the Countryside
The bus had been driving for hours, and Phil’s ass still hurt from the bloody physical. He looked over at his friend, and guessed he still felt the same. The floor of the bus covered in dirt and looked as though it had seen better days. The roof, covered in rust and spider webs. The seats, torn and ripped, also gave a reminder of how old this thing was. It wasn’t as full as it could have been. Not that many people willing to fight in Stockport. There were only another three on board, and they were all Air Service too. The bus bounced as it drove down an old road, hitting every bump along the way. Not a comfortable drive either.
Soon enough, a base came into view in the distance. Accompanied by the bleating of Sheep and other farm animals, the scene was indeed less than charming. It seemed okay for a training ground, but its remoteness was chilling. What would they do if something went wrong? And what the Hell was that sorry excuse of an Obstacle Course? From where Phil was sat, he could see a run down little gravel courtyard, with flimsy, rusted climbing frames that didn’t even look like they could hold a child without breaking. Silence had been the only thing in the bus. Through the torment of bumps and grinding metal, silence had been constant among the buses inhabitants. Even the normally chatty Phil and Rizwan were silent, as they contemplated the journey ahead.
Eventually, the bus wound up a slow incline, and turned to face a gate. Two guards stood watch with an MA5B each. Phil stared at the weapon. Soon enough, he would be learning how to use one of them. The two guards approached the bus, the sound of the crunching gravel reached Phil’s ears through the open windows. Their grey uniforms made them look somewhat bored. The little caps that covered their heads were also grey and they had black boots. Phil saw one of them go past his window. He looked in at Phil, and continued walking. Rizwan looked curiously up to the front, where he saw the doors open, and one of the men walked in. His boots banged on the metal floor, as he approached the driver’s seat. They whispered to one another, the soldier occasionally looking at the recruits. Eventually, the soldier straightened, spat out of the door, and looked casually at them. What he did next made the recruits jump with fright and hurry out the door.
“GET YOUR ASSES MOVING BOYS! GET THE F*CK OUT OF THE BUS! MOVE!”
The recruits all hurriedly scrambled from their seats. One fell over and had his hand crushed by Phil as he ran out. The recruit who fell didn’t come out. The other soldier forced them in a line, and told them to watch. The four recruits stood and looked into the bus with a look of dread. They could see the head of the soldier as he walked towards the fallen recruit. No-one could see him though, as the soldier looked down, and began to crouch. Seconds later, the soldier came up with the boy. He had him by the shirt, and began violently punching him in the face. Over and over again, the recruits watched as cuts opened and his nose broke. Eventually, he was thrown out of the door; the gravel crunching seemed to be the sound of bones snapping. Phil watched on in horror, as the smiling soldiers walked over and kicked him in the ribs. The recruit was helped up, and he doubled over and began coughing up blood.
The bus drove away; the whole time the recruit kept gagging and coughing. Phil knew the next few months would be Hell.
SPQR! An ambitious historical project, coming soon. Check the Library for early version test writes. Recommended for anyone with a love of history.