The memories just wouldn't go away.

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many credits he spent in the LUCKY 7, they wouldn't go away. He had tried coming in earlier in the day right after getting released from the menial duties they had assigned him after his return to "Independant Control". They were probably still trying to figure out what had happened exactly, the rear echelon pogues of the high command needed to assure themselves that they wouldnt get spattered with any brown organic matter at a later date more than likely. Either way reality was now sorting out replacement parts for deployed squadrons and getting polluted by early evening.

What was the point any more, they were all gone.

It hadn't always been like this thought Pilot First Class David Ellis staring into his glass, There was a time when flying was life, "I was invincible!"

To engage drive and blast through atmo was a visceral experience. Transitioning thru to the black was always beautiful. The feel of engines ripping the atmosphere as you rode the column of flame and gee forces was intense and personal no matter how many times you did it. And then it happened. No matter how often you lifted you had to look outside the cockpit and watch the bright sunlight fade rapidly to a dark rich blue in wich everything was so crisp and clear. Where light attracted ones gaze not repelled or damged it. It felt like a renewal , a rebirth... something. You just felt like anything was possible and there were mysteries to be solved and knowledge to be gained. The verse for a brief moment in time was trying to communicate to an insignificant species its glory, majesty and mystery all in an instance.

Not anymore.

Sitting in the downtime dive that loooked like the spitting image of a bad wav sitcom set was so far removed from the beauty and innocence of the verse that it was incomparable. Faded paint peeling off plassteel, old recruiting posters "modified" with comments and cartoons from the multidude of visitors before, as well as the