The food is good tonight. Well, it was until the squad started going over the last mission. To be fair, I should say that the taste of the food is the same but the environment has gone sour.
Apparently I took out thirteen flyers in that last skirmish. I hope they were automatics. I can’t enjoy bland steak and garlic mash knowing I took that many lives.
It’s the most foul play that fate has ever dealt anyone: making a pacifist at heart an expert fighter pilot on extinct. I do my best to ignore their jeers. How could they find humor or joy in taking any life?
“I can’t believe the rookie got more than you Brock” Kan laughs as milk squirts from his nose.”
“I was playing cleanup, and you know it,” Brock retaliates.
They are good people but the problem is that they enjoy their work. They find value in being the best. The best means high kill counts. Apparently I am a natural, which got me promoted to squad commander. How messed up is it that I am promoted because I kill many and easily? This is something I have to learn to live with. I look over at Dessa. Maybe I need a distraction.
Oh wow, seriously? These jerks know Bergiere hates to talk about the kill count, and yet they do it every time. I don’t get why he hates talking about it, but I still respect it. I respect him.
Bergiere has been the best of us since the academy, always with top marks. We even use to think “mr. perfect” was some kinda government experiment until Loryn broke his arm during training. He got angry that she went too far, disobeying protocol and rules. He wasn’t upset he needed a cast. Bergiere’s nuts like that. Which is actually why we all actually respect him.
I don’t respect like Dessa does. I swear she mind screws him when we eat. She can barely take her eyes off him. Bet her mind is coming up with all sorts of unbecoming behavior. Better not let them know that I know that they shag while the rest of us relax at the rec hall pool.
I hear Brock defend his laughable kill count and slap a pizza slice into my mouth, the whole slice. Sausage and pineapple. It’s good stuff so don’t knock it til you try it. Conflict of flavors actually make for best taste explosion.
“Whatever Brock,” Kan chuckles.. Brock stands up, ready to strike, but good ole Bergiere is between the two real quick. He tells them to do 5 laps around the gym before retreating to the pool. The obey without hesitation, and barely grumble about it.
Not sure how the short guy does it, but he demands respect and loyalty. Without words he commands and we obey. Totally not cool if someone does reply with any other option. Bergiere puts them back inline. Mad respect!
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