It's a Peaceful Life

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Chapter 31
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    • It was shocking how quickly Luke had an offer for the Bakery. A week after he’d listed it on the open real estate market, I arrived to see Luke showing a couple around the bakery.

    “Miss Margaret, Mister Thomas, this is my employee, Mark Smith,” Luke introduced me with a smile.

    “A pleasure,” I shook their hands. “I take it y’all are interested in purchasing the place?”

    “Aye,” the man agreed.

    “We want to change things up a bit, though,” Margaret offered, her brown curls bouncing as she grinned. “This place is in the perfect location for serving tea and coffee. Not that your original business idea was bad. But there’s so much potential for a return on investment here.”

    Thomas was obviously excited as well but was more tempered in his approach.

    “We’ve already made our business plan, and we don’t have to purchase a ton of extra equipment with what is already here at the location,” He glanced at the ovens, mixers, and such. “So we can continue making pastries in-house and selling them with the other refreshments.”

    I glanced at Luke, and he shrugged. His body language screamed for me to continue listening.

    I mentally sighed and then reached into my mind for scattered conversations and business plans my parents had made when I was a teenager.

    “So, obviously, coffee and tea will sell well in the mornings,” I agreed. “Have you considered what you might want to do in the afternoons or around lunchtime? Do you intend to work only in the mornings? What’s the plan here?”

    “Well, we have a few ideas,” the couple exchanged glances. “But we’d prefer to keep them close to our chest.”

    “Fine by me,” I nodded at Luke. “Boss, do you want me here for the rest of this? Or…” I trailed off.

    “I’ll contact you later this week,” Luke replied.

    “See you around,” I grabbed my helmet and walked out through the door, shoving any emotion down for the moment as I swung my leg over the bike.

    Engaging the kickstart, I put on my helmet and pulled out of the parking lot. I navigated the streets of the early morning until I reached a highway with no speed limit and a stretch that went on for miles.

    Opening the throttle, I allowed the sadness, the shock, and any feelings of rage to just be, processing and allowing the emotions to run their course. The wind swirled around me as my wheels ate up the miles. The roar of the engine drowned out everything else.

    First, ten minutes passed, then twenty, and before I knew it, I lost track of time. By the time I reached the end of that stretch of the road, I had finally made peace with the fact that part of my life would be changing. Sure, it hadn’t been unexpected, but emotions don’t tend to follow logic.

    Pulling off to the side, I removed my helmet and reached into a saddlebag for the canteen of water I kept there. I swished the spit and taste of sweat, clearing it out with water before spitting it out. Then, I took a long gulp of the refreshing liquid before sealing the canteen again and placing it back into the bag.

    Looking around, I chuckled as I realized I’d gone the opposite way from home and ended up on the other side of the city.

    So, I threw my helmet back on and cranked the engine again. I was definitely in a better place to enjoy the ride. The only thing that would make it better right now was if I had some company along for it.






    Kat paused at the bakery's entrance, a frown shaping her face as she looked at the “closed” sign hanging on the door. She glanced at her watch first and then cupped her hands to the glass before trying to peer inside.

    They might just be opening late. But the lack of lights on the inside told a different story. Pixie’s Pastries was closed. The cartoonish Phoenix Hawk that usually lit up and displayed the “Open” sign was off, and there wasn’t any indication the bakery would open at all.

    Sighing, Kat turned around and went to leave when the door opened.

    “Get on in here,” the familiar voice filled her ears.

    “Hey, Luke,” she grinned, stepping inside behind the old man. “Everything alright? I thought you would be deep in the opening procedures by now.”

    “I’ll be blunt,” Luke replied, opening the door to the small office. “I’m selling the bakery. I’m old. It’s time for me to finally retire and spend more time with my grandkids.”

    Kat was stunned. Her hands reached for the seat across from the old MIIO agent, found the back of the chair, and then sat down.

    “Is it because you rescued me?” Katherine asked, meeting Luke’s eyes.

    “In part, yes,” Luke shrugged. “But it goes beyond that, Princess.”

    He sighed and reached for a pack of cigarettes that wasn’t in his pocket anymore before standing up and pulling a drawer out, an old, worn-out red label showing the brand of smokes before he stood and gestured for the Steiner-Davion to follow him.

    As soon as they stepped out, a lighter found its way into his hands, a well-practiced gesture that opened the brass device and lit the cancer stick in one fluid motion. “I’ve faced my own mortality many times throughout my life,” Luke exhaled a small cloud of smoke. “But as you get older, the more you stare at death, the more it stares back at you. Any op that I went on this late in life would have had the same results. It wasn’t rescuing you that brought this on. It was Cheryl and I reflecting on life after I came back.”

    Luke allowed it to grow quiet as he finished that cigarette and fished out another, offering one to Kat, but she waved him off.

    “I don’t know how many years I’ve got left to spend with my kids,” he continued. “With my grandkids. My son is jump infantry, and he’s been deployed along with that whole task force to deal with the invasion. If the worst happens and we get a letter, I don’t want to regret spending more time here working instead of spending as much time as I have with them. Mark will be fine without the bakery. He’s got enough going on without having to keep the lights on in this place. Hell,” Luke laughed and then coughed a bit. “He was the only reason we could stay in business in the first place. Custom Cakes are serious business. The donuts and other shit kept the lights on, but the cakes were where the profit was.”

    The old man shook his head and tossed the half-full box of cigarettes into the trash, smushing out the last butte with his foot.

    “Even without the op to rescue you, we probably still would’ve sold the bakery in the next year or so,” Luke locked eyes with the young woman. “It took me a few years after getting out. But I think I’m finally back home…”

    The old man started heading to his vehicle.

    “Mark took off down towards the west,” Luke waved in the general direction. “If I was a betting man, I’d say that he went for a ride. Day like this, he’s probably going to want to grab something for the evening, some steaks, a cigar, maybe some whiskey. You’ll find him at the cigar shop at Westmere Ave and 28th Street intersection in an hour or so, depending on how far he went. I’ll see you around.”

    Luke waved goodbye as he left the small parking lot, smiling as he pulled into the traffic flow.

    Meanwhile, Kat mulled over the conversation as she headed back to the front of Pixie’s Pastries, where the bodyguard she’d been assigned was still waiting by the car.

    “Looks like we’re headed to Westmere and 28th,” Katherine informed the man.

    “Understood, ma’am,” The bodyguard nodded, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. “Scenic route or fast?”

    “Scenic,” Katherine shrugged. “There’s plenty of parts of Avalon City I haven’t seen yet. Might as well take in the view.”
     
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    • Chapter 32
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    • I wheeled to a stop in the parking lot of the cigar shop I visited once every coupled of months. I wasn’t quite a regular, but I was there often enough that the owner waved me over with a smile when he saw me.

    “Mark,” the guy waved me over. “I haven’t seen you in a while. You been keeping busy?”

    “Pretty much,” I shrugged. “I finally finished work on the house, now I’m working on restoring the rest of the farm. I’ve got a pile of brush and debris to burn tonight, so I figured I’d pick up a cigar or two. Enjoy them next to the fire.”

    “You’re in luck, then,” Adams grinned. “I just got a fresh shipment of acids in. I know you’re a fan of some of those blends. I’ve got some vanilla and cinnamon that I think you’ll appreciate.”

    “I’ll take your word for it,” I shrugged. “Go ahead and ring up a mixed box. I have a feeling I won’t be back in town for a while. So, might as well get a decent stock now. I’ll head next door after this and grab a bottle of whiskey to go with.”

    “The match made in heaven,” Adams nodded. “Nothing pairs quite as well as cigars and whiskey. That’ll be seventy pounds and fifty pence.”

    I forked over the bills and accepted the wooden box.

    “Thanks, Adams,” I waved over my shoulder, receipt tucked into my wallet. “See you around.”

    “I’ll be at church on Sunday,” he agreed. “I’ll see you there.”

    I placed the wooden box in my saddlebages and headed to the liquor store next. I never really bought a ton of alcohol, but given some of the best cooking was done with wine or bourbon, I had a small stash outside of the few brands I favored for the nightcap on occasion.

    Which meant I wasn’t familiar to anyone at the liquor store. This was the future of the eighties, people still favored cigarettes to a cigar or pipe tobacco; those were more luxury items than everyday fare. And with this being New Avalon, I didn’t know a single person that dipped or chewed tobacco. Which was kinda odd to someone who came from the American South growing up.

    So I grabbed a bottle of bourbon to replace the one I’d use the last of marinating my steaks in and checked out. After all, I still had plenty of whiskey for the cigars and fire tonight.

    Walking outside, I was met by sunlight and a smoking hot blond standing outsde by my motorcycle. Kat was wearing what was essentially a set of fatigues, but honestly, she made them look really good.

    “Hey, Kat!” I grinned, feeling my spirits rise. “I didn’t expect to see you so soon. I thought you were going to be at the Academy for another month before they let you out.”

    “Wartime means the curriculum’s accelerated,” She shrugged. “Luke told me you’d probably be around here.”

    “Yeah,” I tucked the bottle of bourbon into the saddlebag with my spare clothes. I didn’t want that to shatter. “I needed to pick some supplies up.”

    “Luke told me he’s selling the bakery,” she pulled me in for a hug. “I could out bid whoever wants to buy it. Then you could just manage my bakery for me.”

    “Nah,” I shook my head. “That might feel good for a minute. But sometimes you’ve just got to move on. I can always sell custom cakes out of the farmhouse if I really want to. Honestly though, I’m probably just going to knuckled down and properly finish getting the farm in order. A month or two and I’ll be able to be self-sufficient.”

    “I guess,” Kat shrugged. “It just feels like another part of what was stable is gone.” She sighed and then changed the subject.

    “What’s your plan for today?” She asked.

    “Well,” I grinned. “I’ve got to grab some more seasonings, but I’ve got some more steaks at the house, a pile of trash to burn, and now, a beautiful woman to share it with.”

    “Sounds good,” She stepped away a bit, giving us space. “What time do you want us there?”

    “You can ride with me now,” I raised an eyebrow. “Or if it’s a security concern, you can come over with your detail in an hour or so. Either is fine with me.”

    Kat glanced over at the handful of agents leaning against or sitting in the nearby sedan.

    “Sooner we’re out of the city, the easier it’ll be to keep you secure, ma’am,” the lone female shrugged. “We’d prefer you ride in the car. But we’ll understand if you’d rather take the bike.”

    I shrugged.

    “Choice is yours, Kat. But if we want the steaks properly marinated, then we’ll need to leave soon,” I glanced at my watch.

    “I’ll take the car,” the tall blond finally sighed. “But only because I don’t have a helmet with me.”

    With that said, she gave me a peck on the lips and headed for the black sedan while I slung my leg over the motorcycle and kickstarted it up, a song going through my head as I did so.

    Thankfully, I’d discovered that Motley Crue’s music still existed this far into the future, and I knew exactly what would be playing when I got home.

    Pulling my helmet on and revving the throttle, I popped my foot, shifting into first gear with a spring forward, my front tire lifting off the ground a bit before settling down and shooting me forward and naturally into second gear.

    Traffic faded in the background as my mind filled in the background of the drums, guitar and everything that went with “Kickstart My Heart”. My heart began to race in time with the music that only I could hear, the roar of the engine disappearing in the wind as the city gradually gave way to the countryside. The minutes and miles passing by as I headed home for the farm.

    Eventually though, the internal music faded, leaving me to simply enjoy the beautiful day and wind as it rushed by. As my heart slowed down, so did the throttle. The sun was high in the horizon, the air was clean and fresh, and I wasn’t going to rush home.

    Unfortunately, even good rides and times have to draw to an end, and I came to the gate that led onto my property.

    Shifting into neutral, I slowed down and parked in front of it, setting out the kickstand and pulling the keys off my carabiner for the padlock holding the simple chain in place. Swinging the gate open, I then hooked it to the fence, leaving it open for Kat and the agents with her to close behind them, and headed on inside.





    Evening…

    “You’ll have to explain to me why you enjoy these things,” Kat tapped the box of cigars Mark had set near the bonfire. Not quire sure how she felt about this habit of her boyfriend’s “I just don’t understand it.”

    “Well,” Mark looked up from where he was crouched over a small bit of kindling was starting to spark and smolder, dull streaks of smoke rising from his attempts with flint and steel.. “Cigarettes stink to high heaven in my opinion. But there’s something about a cigar that’s more social. If I were in combat, I’d probably prefer chewing tobacco or a cigarette, but there’s something about having a group of friends or family around a fire smoking cigars and just talking about life that just feels right.”

    He laughed as the fire finally started up, the gentle flickers of the kindling slowly starting to work on the larger logs and other parts of the fire.

    “If given the okay, I’m willing to share a cigar or two with you,” Mark took a seat next to Kat, drawing his legs up ino a cross-legged position next to her chair. Then, he pulled a cigar out of the box, a smile on his face as he pulled a small tool from his belt and clipped a bit off of the end.

    “I assume there’s a reason to cut that end of things,” Kat gestured towards the hand that was putting the tool away.

    “Got to have a place for the smoke and the tobacco to pass through,” he replied with a shrug. “That’s the thing about cigars, you’re not supposed to inhale them. In fact, if you inhale a cigar, it’ll make you sick. Just puff a bit, and then blow out the smoke.”

    Lighting a match, Mark demonstrated just that, puffing on the cigar until the end glowed bright red before blowing out a series of smoke rings and winking at her, sending a few butterflies through her stomach.

    “Why cigars though?” Kat asked, grabbing one of the wrapped cigars and bringing it to her nose, it smelled like molasses and there were hints of dark earthy undertones that combined.

    “I suck with keeping pipes lit,” Mark laughed. “I blame Tolkien and Spurgeon for my tendencies here. But honestly, it’s good for relaxation, and I make sure that I smoke in moderation. I’ve seen what addiction does to folks,” He shuddered. “I’m not interested in that.”

    “Here,” Mark held out the cigar. “If you want to try it, you can be my guest. Just don’t inhale.”

    She grabbed it and considered the slightly smoking rolled tobacco in her hands as Mark tended to the fire. Eventually, curiosity overtook her and she puffed on it, immediately bursrting into a coughing fit as she accidentally inhaled some of the smoke.

    “I told you not to inhale!” Mark called out from the other end of the fire. “Drink a bit of water, you’ll be fine.”

    Grabbing the glass of water, Kat swished and spat it out before trying the cigar again, this time simply puffing and allowing the smoke to leave. There wasn’t a large effect, not like she’d expected. The smoke tasted faintly of the molasses that she’d smelled before, and a calm, warm feeling wrapped itself around her mind.

    “Huh,” She considered the cigar, taking another puff and trying to blow out a smoke ring and failing. “How’d you do that?” She asked as Mark sat back down.

    “What, the smoke rings?” Mark raised an eyebrow. “Lot’s of practice. My brother in law could blow smoke out of his nose like he was a dragon. I can do smoke rings, that’s about it.”

    “I think I get it now,” Kat leaned her head on Mark’s shoulder as the fire crackled away. “It’s not about the cigar, is it?”

    “Kinda,” Mark fluttered his hand. “It’s one of the few things that carried over between worlds. It lets me feel like I still have a connection back home. It’s why I mostly smoke one on July 4th, New Year’s Eve, and holidays like that. It’s what we did after the kids went to bed on those days. We’d sit around a fire like this, talk about whatever came to mind while sipping at a whiskey glass and enjoying a cigar.” Mark’s arm pulled her close and he looked down. “But it’s also about the company.”

    Katherine reached out a hand and accepted the cigar, puffing on it before passing it back to Mark, the two of them simply resting and enjoying the silence of the night and the fire crackling in the background. As the night wore on and the fire slowly dimmed; Sage, Thyme, and a handful of puppies joined them in their vigil. Eventually, Mark reached the end of the cigar and tossed it into the fire. Kat smiled as she leaned into his shoulder.

    Yeah, this was comfortable. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
     
  • Threadmarks
    • Bonefire always warms the heart, even if it warms the rest of you unevenly.

    MarkWarrior said:
    If I were in combat, I’d probably prefer chewing tobacco or a cigarette
    Click to expand...

    Interestingly, the biggest reason why cigarettes overtook the pipes was that millions of men got used to the cigarettes they were issued in the trenches of the First World War, before that they were seen as a low class.
     
    Chapter 33 New
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    • The next few months sped by. It took time, but I’d finally cleared out all of the junk left behind by the previous owners. After turning in the scraps to various recycling centers, I took the cash given to me and turned it into the beginnings of my first cash crops. I had already reached out to a couple of local supermarkets to sell lamb and beef to, and would be turning a bit of a profit from that soon enough.

    Of course, I wasn’t just busy with the farm itself. The puppies were growing up, and I was training different dogs to do different jobs. With six puppies, I had a lot of different bases that I could cover. I’d probably end up using half of them as livestock guardian dogs. Sure, New Avalon was a ‘safe’ world, but even safe worlds had predators that liked the taste of chicken, beef, or lamb from time to time. Two of the dogs I started working with and teaching how to herd the dumb sheep and goats. The two followed the Twins and did whatever they did.

    The last dog was going to be a gift for Kat. So, I worked with this dog and burned a favor from one of the retired mercs that went to church with me. I could train dogs for farm work, but I didn’t know enough and wasn’t skilled enough to bridge the gaps in my knowledge to train a dog for anything that might happen in a warzone.

    “I already know that I’m going to regret this,” Brian sighed. “But the wife wants chickens, and you’re the one she wanted to buy them from.”

    “I just need Gladys here trained,” I knelt and stroked the dog’s coat, her tail waving rapidly in the air. “You do that, and I’ll get you all the chickens your wife could ever want.”

    “It’d be easier if I had the person they’re being trained for here,” Brian leaned against the leg of his Blackjack. “But unfortunately, it seems she isn’t here.”

    “She doesn’t have leave again until she graduates from NAMA,” I shrugged. “This is my gift to her for that.”

    “Well, it’s certainly not the worst gift I’ve heard of someone receiving for graduation,” the retired merc grunted. “It’s infinitely better than what my buddies gave me when we graduated.”

    “Do I want to know?” I asked. “Or is it another story like what I used to hear back home that usually involves strippers and cars that cost way too much?”

    “Let’s just say that I’ve got a better poker face than most stupid young nobles,” Brian smiled a bit, his weathered face and crows feet deepening around his eyes. “And leave it at that.”






    “I don’t know if I can interact with or be around the original,” Katherine confessed, leaning back into Melissa as the older woman brushed her hair. “I’m a collection of lies, stolen thoughts, and implanted memories. Nothing that I experienced or remember was real.”

    Melissa simply ran the brush through the brilliant gold of Katherine’s hair, a soft and warm smile on her face.

    “Well, I wouldn’t say that everything you’ve experienced was fake,” the older Steiner said. “This moment is real. This memory, once we’re done, it’ll still be real when I’m old, gray, and have passed on from this life. We’re willing to take a chance with you, to do more than just lock you up and throw away the key. The decision to reach out and accept it is up to you. There’s going to have to be some changes, some things that are different. But Hanse and I are firm in this.”

    Melissa spun the chair around and pulled her cloned daughter in for a hug. Then planted a gentle kiss on the younger blonde’s head.

    “You are not responsible for the actions of others. Now, anything you do from here on out is your choice. Whether it’s to take yourself into self-imposed exile like your Uncle Morgan, or something else, your life is your own,” Melissa then frowned. “Admittedly, there’s going to be a lot of steps before we can get to the point where you’re allowed to make those decisions. But the option is there.”







    “It was a lot easier to run a long-distance war when my children weren’t involved in the damned thing,” Hanse muttered as he looked over the latest reports that had been forwarded to him by the LIC and MIIO. “The latest reports on the Kell Hounds and Victor don’t say much more about things other than moving him off-world.”

    “I have faith that Kai will return home,” Justin said from where he sat across from Hanse Davion., “But I’ve been less concerned with the invasion and more with what Comstar is up to. We can raise and meet anyone in force of arms if necessary, but fighting against the people who control everything about our long-range communications, it’s an entirely different war.”

    Justin slid a document across the desk to the First Prince.

    “With help from the Doctors at the Triad and some digging by the LIC, we finally managed to put together a rough timeline. Whatever Comstar was up to, they were playing the long game here.”

    Hanse read the file, his eyes darting back and forth rapidly before his face shifted from a pale horror to a red rage.

    Then he inhaled and exhaled, the anger leaving him and making him seem like the age he actually was.

    “We can’t act right now,” Hanse sighed. “What I want to do is take the Davion Heavy Guards, and every regiment and RCT between here and Terra and eliminate the ones who orchestrated this, and damn the consequences. But what I want won’t be what’s right for the realm. Barbarians are at the gates of Rome, and it’s our job to see them off before we deal with the unruly neighbors trying to pull at our strings.”

    “I have tasked more assets to infiltrate Comstar. If nothing else, we’ll have the ability to seize the HPG compounds if it comes down to it,” Justin added.

    “But for now, we wait and prepare,” Hanse said, standing up. “I need to do something before I go crazy in here,” He grinned. “And I know just what I’m going to do.”






    “Y’Know,” I made my feelings plain as I opened the front door for the man who was indirectly responsible for my existence in this universe. “I’m never sure whether I dread meeting you or if I’m happy to see you when you decide to make an appearance at my house.”

    “I can certainly see how your perception has shaped our relationship,” The Fox grinned at me. “Now, do you mind if I come in?”

    “Would it make a difference if I said no?”

    He shook his head.

    “That’s what I figured,” I sighed and swung the door completely open. “So, is this something I did? Or is this a social visit?”

    “I wanted to shoot some of the antiques you have,” Hanse replied. “And figured I could have a conversation with you regarding Katherine at the same time.”

    “Let’s have the conversation first,” I gestured for him to have a seat at my dining table. My old Southern instincts flaring up from back when I’d attempted to date back in high school. “If that’s alright with you.”

    “I think it’s something we need to discuss,” Hanse shrugged, his face shifting from the jovial smile to something a bit more somber. “Just like I see my brother Ian reborn in my son, Victor. I see a lot of myself in Katherine. And like any good parent, I want to spare her some of the most agonizing pain that someone can go through.”

    I opened my mouth to speak, but Hanse shook his head.

    “You are good for my daughter,” he continued. “But you are also at risk, far more than Dana was on the battlefield. For now, you have security through obscurity. But that can only last for so long before it vanishes into smoke. So, you have a choice,” the older man sighed, clearly not hating what he was about to say. “It’s not even an ultimatum of my choosing, it is simply the reality that you and I must face. If you and Katherine continue to pursue this relationship, then you will lose any chance of living this life on the farm. No matter what you desire, you will become a part of the games that nobles play. A piece on the board that is now in play.”

    I felt very small in this moment. Sure, I knew that Kat was the 2nd in line to the throne of the Federated Commonwealth. I knew that Hanse was the ruler of a nation. But even now, years later, I hadn’t internalized it. But right now? Yeah, I felt my entire worldview shift.

    “That’s the choice you have to make,” I saw the pity in Hanse’s eyes. “If you choose to withdraw and never speak with Katherine again, I would respect that decision. I would weep for my daughter’s broken heart, but I would understand. But if you choose to continue the path that you are on now. Then it will no longer be a peaceful life for you anymore.”

    I sat there for a time, thinking, processing. I didn’t know if minutes passed by, if it was only a few seconds, or if it had been hours, but eventually, I settled on the answer.

    “When a man finds peace, he should seize it with both hands and refuse to let it go.” I matched the First Prince’s gaze, but instead of finding a ruler found a simple man and father. “But peace isn’t just a part of this farm. It’s here,” I tapped my chest. “If my grandfather and dad taught me one thing. It’s that a good man treasures peace while he has it. But he is also willing to shatter that peace if it is worth it."

    Author’s note: We’re rapidly approaching the end here. I’m estimating 2-3 chapters and an epilogue. I’ve really enjoyed writing this story, and I think it’s made me grow as an Author. I hope y’all have enjoyed this journey as much as I have.
     
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    • I'm glad you enjoyed writing the story, it was quite different than the usual fare in fiction, not exactly what we look for when reading, but enjoyable read none the less.
    I mean I stuck to it to the (upcoming) end and I usually lose interest in stories after first few chapters, even though it is a BT story with no mech on mech violence (you monster).
     
    It's a very different story to your usual.

    This isn't you as an Action Star. This is something a bit more "real", a calmer story.


    Yes, I can see this helping you as a writer. It's quite well done, too.

    Thanks.
     
    Chapter 34 New
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    • “I haven’t seen one of these outside of a museum in years,” Hanse picked up the M16A4.

    “It’s a piece of my history,” I replied. “Though, there’s one major difference in the rifle that we have here and from what I read about the history of Earth.

    “Oh?” Hanse raised an eyebrow. “I know the intel people went over your information, but I wasn’t aware of anything pertinent.”

    “Because it’s not something that actually helps out the nation,” I laughed. “It’s just a historical difference. The M16A4 was issued to the US Marine Corps during what we called the Great War on Terror in my timeline. It was an improvement to the A3 and A2 with one thing that Marines and Soldiers alike criticized about it.”

    “What was not to like?” Hanse picked up a magazine and fed it into the weapon. “This isn’t too heavy, and based off of the performance I read, it was quite a lethal weapons platform.”

    “Ours only had semi-auto and three round burst,” I said, pointing out the safety selector. “The ones from this timeline all seem to have been full-auto or semi. It’s not a massive thing, but it’s at least one point that I can point to that’s different.”

    “It’s amazing how light the cartridges were back then,” Hanse held up one of the rounds in comparison to one of the more modern small arms used.

    “The entire platform being lighter is great,” I agreed. “Especially when you compare it to the Mauser 960 that I’ve got over there.”

    “I’ve fired one before,” Hanse glared at the offending weapon. “If there’s ever been a product of committee-led weapons design, that’s one of them.”

    “It’s fun to shoot,” I shrugged. “But I wouldn’t want to carry one around for any sort of long ruck. Not when you have the carry the ammo for it too.”

    “Now, let’s see how one of the weapons my ancestor might have used during the Second Soviet Civil War performs,” Hanse slid the magazine into place with a practiced ease and sent the bolt forward.

    Flipping the selector from safe to semi, he took a few shots before flipping it to the third position and finishing off the magazine with some short controlled bursts.

    “This is a lot of fun,” he grinned, accepting another mag and slapping it into place. “Usually when I want to relieve some stress, I climb into a ‘Mech and go hit the training grounds. But there’s something different about doing this.”

    “It’s one of the few sports where you can see immediate improvements,” I shrugged. “In most sports or activities, it can take months or years before you see any difference in how you’re doing something. When you do something right with a rifle or handgun, it’s immediate.”

    “Of course, you can also see your failures that much more obviously too,” Hanse set the weapon down. “Now, what else do you have that’s interesting in this collection?”

    “Well, I’ve got this Mosin Nagant,” I picked up the rifle. “But I’ve had a hard time tracking down ammo for it. From what I can tell according to the markings on it, this was an American manufactured Mosin, captured by the Germans during World War II, and eventually found its way overseas to the United States. But the most interesting piece in my collection is this.”

    I opened the lone decorated box on the gun table and revealed the velvet cased firearm within.

    “It’s a Colt 1851 Navy Revolver,” I said, handling the ancient firearm with care. “I doubt this one was carried by an officer or anything important like that. But it’s still an important relic of the past.”

    Hanse took the revolver from me and pointed it down range, inspecting the engravings and the worn wooden handles.

    “I take it you don’t have ammunition for this?” Hanse asked.

    “Wouldn’t even know where to start looking for the ball and caps for a weapon this old,” I shrugged.

    “I’ll have to see what I can do about that,” Hanse mused, setting the weapon back into the case and picking up the Mauser 960. “Now, you said something about having grenades for this?”

    “Indeed I did,” I matched the grin on his face and pulled out a crate of SLDF issue grenades for the underslung launcher. “I’ve got a few stumps out there you can take out if you want.”

    Hanse simply accepted the grenades and loaded them into the magazine before feeding it into the hefty weapon.

    While using a ‘mech or a tank to destroy something was cool. There was just something special about seeing an explosion caused by something you held with your own two hands.

    The rest of the day we spent shooting and even competing with the rest of the antiques and special weapons in my arsenal. Even getting some of the security involved if it was a weapon they had a special interest in. But unfortunately, all good things must come to an end.

    “I’ll see you at the Mountain in a week,” Hanse shook my hand. “We’ve got a lot to catch you up on if you’re really planning on going through with this.”

    “I’ll be there,” I replied.





    “We’re going to start with the trigger phrases that were given to us by the Comstar Agents we captured and then work our way through the few documents we seized from them,” the doctor explained to both the clone and the LIC agents that were observing the process. “Unfortunately,” He sighed. “We can’t promise immediate progress. Based on the experience with the First Prince’s Doppelganger, we can streamline the process, but we estimate that it will still take several years before we’re finished.”

    “What is the plan if one of the phrases is a termination order?” Melissa asked, a frown on her face. “I recall that was one of the issues that was faced when dealing with Hanse’s double.”

    “Well, we have a comprehensive medical suite and staff on standby,” Doctor Himmel replied. “But we are taking all of the precautions that we reasonably can. Given the… Potential harm that may come, we intend on proceeding through this as cautiously as possible.”

    Katherine appeared to be resting in the chair, waiting for the beginning of the deprogramming procedures. But if anyone looked closely, they’d have seen the tensed muscles and clenched jaw.

    “I’m ready,” the clone called out. “Can we please just get this started? I’m tired of living in a cell. No matter how comfortable it is.”

    “Ma’am, I’m going to have to ask you to step out of the room,” one of Melissa’s Guards stated. “It’s for your safety.”

    “I understand,” Melissa sighed and grabbed onto the young woman’s hand, giving it a gentle squeeze and kissing her on the forehead before heading for the observation room. “I’m not going far though.”

    The doctor closed and sealed the door behind them, leaving him along with the young woman as he picked up a small book and began reading off what seemed like random gibberish and different words.

    A nearby team of analysts studied camera feeds capturing every angle and slight muscle movement for any signs that any of the phrases were doing anything.

    After what seemed like hours, but may have only been a few minutes, Himmel spoke a phrase and Katherine tensed up, her eyes unfocusing as she went slack in the chair.

    “Note, subject has entered into what appears to be a malleable state,” He spoke out loud for record keeping purposes. “I’ll now begin going over standard deprogramming techniques.”






    Dear Victor, AKA (The Pain in my Ass)

    While I’d like to start this off with telling you that I’ve finally graduated from NAIS and started working on some of those ideas we had growing up, it wouldn’t be the truth. Instead, there’s been a lot of activity going on back here on New Avalon, and I’m having to go through the accelerated Officer School here.

    If things work out, I’ll probably be transferred to Tharkad in a few months and will be working closely with Uncle Morgan as an Aide De Camp for the duration of this invasion. (I think dad’s hoping that working closely with Kym Sorenson and Morgan will get me some experience for shit that’s going to start rolling downhill soon.)

    Also, I’ve finally been read in on what’s happening on the frontlines. You’re an idiot for having to be dragged off of the battlefield. It’s one thing to lead by example for the soldiers next to you. It’s another entirely to be an idiot. (and I love you, but that was really dumb. Almost as dumb as you trying to hit on that waitress when we snuck out of the Mountain a few years ago.)

    Unfortunately, it looks like we’re going to be at war for the foreseeable future. Not only with these “Clans” but also with some clandestine operations that point back to Comstar and a few other possible collaborators. (MIIO and the LIC are still pulling on the strings).

    While I’m not at liberty to give you all of the information, let’s just say that Dad and Mom are setting us up to fight two very different wars and leave it at that.

    Hopefully you’ll get rotated off the front lines soon for some R&R. If things go well, my Boyfriend Mark and I will be in Lyran portion of the Commonwealth at some point in the future.


    Love,

    Your Beloved Sister,

    Katherine

    PS. I fully expect for some of this to be Redacted. So, I apologize if there’s portions of this letter you couldn’t read. But we both know how the intel people like to do things.
     
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    • MarkWarrior said:
    No exposure. He wasn’t even aware of the project that accidentally’d him over.
    Click to expand...
    Could they use their knowledge about clans to slow them enough for another space states being attacked?
    If clans beat Combine here,it only would help them.

    And,if they manage to somehow provoke bigger conflict between Comstar and clans....
     
    Mark's knowledge was minimal, MW4 and MC2, so they knew something wicked is coming their way, but not exactly when and what will be the scope of invasion.
     
    PsihoKekec said:
    Mark's knowledge was minimal, MW4 and MC2, so they knew something wicked is coming their way, but not exactly when and what will be the scope of invasion.
    Click to expand...
    Pity.It remind me polish parody of Robin Hood/english version with Hern/ ,where Hern was coming to Robin saing "beware,beware" ,and when Robin asked beware of what? Hern answered "just in case"
     
    Epilogue New
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    • Epilogue​

    The actions of a lone individual are something that are hard to quantify. Oftentimes, our every action only seems to affect ourselves or those we immediately interact with. Lone acts of kindness are ignored or forgotten because we don’t consider the actions noteworthy or life-changing.

    After all, one act won’t change the world. A lone measure of kindness unimportant beyond that one moment where you have the opportunity to show the good that exists in the world.

    It takes someone thinking beyond that moment in time to consider how their actions might spread beyond one act to many. Most kind actions, in fact, only affect that lone individual or their immediate families.

    One person can sometimes change the world, the universe as a whole. But that’s rare. What someone can always do is change someone else’s world. And in the process, spread beyond one act into many.

    “What’re you thinking about so hard, old man?” Katherine asked, her blue eyes sparkling with mirth as she laughed at me.

    “Well, I was thinking about what to write in my memoirs before I was so rudely interrupted by some young whippersnapper,” I arched an eyebrow at my wife before shifting my tone of voice to be more dramatic. “After all, if you keep calling me old like that, then I must be prepared for when I eventually keel over and die.”

    “Sure,” Katherine tucked herself into my side and rested her head on my shoulder, her blond now streaked through with silver locks. “Next thing I’ll hear about is how bad your knees ache in the morning.”

    “Well, now that you mention it…” I trailed off.

    “I love you,” Katherine said, a soft smile on her face as we looked out over the farm.

    “I love you too,” I replied, basking in the warmth of the rising sun.

    “To think that all of this started because I wanted coffee and something sweet to go with it,” Katherine said after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

    “I was thinking about that too,” I pulled my wife further into my side and gave her a tight squeeze. “Who’d have thought that one chance meeting could’ve had such an impact on both of our lives?”

    “Not me,” She replied, considering everything. “We were so young back then,” She then smirked. “Well, I was young. You, you were still old.”

    I ignored the jab and settled into place even more, my mind reaching back to the old farm on New Avalon. Of how much work I’d spent rebuilding the Farm, and beyond that, rebuilding who I was as a person.

    “We should visit the old place,” I said after a moment of thought. “See how she’s doing.”

    “I’m sure she’d appreciate the company,” Katherine agreed, a noncommittal shrug in her shoulders, she’d never been comfortable spending time with her clone for long periods of time.

    The sun’s light gradually moved higher, illuminating and displaying the frost, ice, and snow that still coated the ground, the crystalline structures concealing any of the imperfections that might dot the landscape.

    The door to the cabin eventually opened and a handful of children rushed out, quickly forming teams and dispersing to the rest of the farm.

    “Dad, mom,” Allison stepped outside, two cups of coffee in her hands. “You missed breakfast, Zach’s got some leftovers if you want them.”

    “It’s fine, dear,” I smiled at our daughter, her bronze hair shining in the morning light. “We’ll be inside in a few minutes.”

    Katherine’s eyes though, were on the six grandchildren frolicking and playing in the snow. A smile on her face and a lone tear trickling down her face.

    “Are you okay, mom?” Allie knelt down and brushed the tear away.

    “I’ve never been better,” Katherine pulled our youngest in for a hug. “I’m just happy to see everyone together again.”

    “We’re still waiting for Paul to wake up,” Allie handed us the twin mugs. “But Zach and I figured we should let him sleep in given he just got in last night from the Triad.”

    Eventually, our oldest woke up and found a seat next to the rest of the adults watching the kids scattered around the farm.

    “How’s the Triad?” I asked Paul.

    “As awful as ever,” He grumbled. “I’d rather spend all of my time here, but you both know how it is.”

    “Unfortunately,” Katherine agreed. “Though you handle the politics better than your father ever did.”

    “I hate lies,” I shrugged. “And snakes, politicians fall in both categories, so the hatred is magnified.”

    “I’ll have to head back tomorrow night,” The future Archon-Prince sighed. “Uncle Victor’s trying to negotiate with the Combine, and they sent her…”

    I exchanged glances with Katherine and she buried her face in her hands.

    “Make sure that he keeps it in his pants this time,” My wife muttered. “Rope Peter or Yvonne in on it if you have to, but if I have to step in and put that bitch back into her place again…”

    “Kat,” I rubbed her shoulder. “We’re retired, remember?”

    “Retired, my ass,” She replied. “I’ll come out of retirement if I have to.”

    “Thanks,” Paul looked relieved. “I can use that to keep her in check.”

    “Now, get out there and play with your kids,” Katherine shoved him into the snow. “If you think you lack time with them now, wait until you’re Archon-Prince, that time will all go away.”

    A lone hand was raised out of the snow with a displayed finger.

    In response to that, Kat brought her hands to her mouth and gave a sharp whistle.

    “Gather around!” She stood on the steps of the porch. “Uncle Paul told us that he can take all of you on in a snowball fight!”

    Paul had just gotten to his knees when the first snowball tagged him in the face, the outstretched hand of his son looking guilty as the day was long.

    “So that’s how it is!” Paul rushed to his feet and rushed to tackle his son, slipping on the ice and snow as they scattered, pelting him with snow as they laughed.

    Even through all of the ups and downs, the wars that the Fedcom fought, and the hardships that came. Through all of the mess that came with Comstar. In the end, It was a peaceful life.

    The End.
     
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