oobidoobi on DeviantArthttps://www.deviantart.com/oobidoobi/art/Love-of-Sorts-Private-546911059oobidoobi

Deviation Actions

oobidoobi's avatar

Love of Sorts: Private

By
Published:
6.4K Views

Description

Pair: Paul Reynold and Isala Victez

Their Story: First Sergeant Paul Reynold was a relatively high ranking technician and pilot aboard the Perfectian Empire's Wonder Vault (a name derived from a popular children's story among most of the local region's planets), one of the larger variety of frigate under the command of the main galactic powerhouse. The naval unit of Wonder Vault, two smaller frigates, and a comparable number of fighter squadrons, was manned by three of the four sentient races under the rule of the Empire: The Shai (they more or less looked human, but they had feline ears atop their head, and were covered in various amounts of insulating fur along their limbs. No tails.), the Entonian ("space elf" is basically the best way to put it, but without any magical talents), and the Humans (those are pretty standard, all things considered). The Fomo People (the single most intimidating herbivores you'll ever see, looking a lot like mix between a spider and a mole, but peaceful on almost all fronts not involving self defense) were decidedly terrestrial dwellers, and rarely left the planet they were born on without emergency.

    With the Wonder Vault set on a three month recon mission along the edges of one of the Empire's further territories, his daily life consisted of mostly running abut performing maintenance duties, and a piloting shift twice a week, while helping any greenies under his command. That said, a majority of his "maintenance" time was spent in the barracks training hall, fixing whatever it was the marine contingent stationed on the frigate broke. One marine in particular, a noted war hero with an outlandish record of achievements (for simplification, just think along the lines of Master Chief's encyclopedia of action) despite her young age, was a entonian woman by the name of Isala Victez. She, even without her notoriously efficient Murmur Squad (a SpecOps division) behind her, had been known to be equally masterful with any weapon of destruction in her hands with a record of taking out entire squads on her own in open firefights. Her stealth was equally as dangerous to deal with but was, obviously, not as well publicized. She also had the highest score on the training gallery: both for accuracy and speed, and for the number of times she was getting Paul called down to fix her messes.

    So, as chance would have it, they ended up spending a lot of time chatting as he put back together her most recent victim. Unlike many other recorded militaries, the Perfectian Empire did not deal with "inane bullshit." There were no social divisions allowed between any branches of it's military. Naval, land, marine, armor, engineering, medic, even spooks all got along with the rest like they would their own. The military was decidedly strict in it's practices and adhering to them- the most notable one is that anyone who joins the military signs away fifteen years of their life. They are not allowed to quit, get discharged, or desert (obviously). The only way to get out without being left to dry or get hunted down, was either retiring after fifteen years or as a cooling body. Even injured personnel, those deemed too disabled to be useful in the military, would be returned to their home with no recompense or award. While medical technology was nearly miraculous in it's results, some things were simply too much to fix.

    After the first month of talking with the intimidating (although "hot as a fusion coil." Engineering joke, he says) woman, Paul had realized a major fact that her squad gained great amounts of amusement from: Isala was quite a bit socially awkward outside of battle and military functions. She didn't realize some simple or common gestures when given, but the rest of her squad would break up laughing for one miscommunication or another. Flirting, for instance. He knew he was a bit dense when it came to girls' emotions (according to a graduation peer, there were at least two girls that liked him, but he couldn't see anything there. So he called BS.), but Isala was blatantly ignorant of how to label or take note of anything of the sort. He knew she wasn't completely hopeless- according to her squad (who also took a liking to him, if not to her extent), he was the first one to make her blush with one of his more sarcastic remarks. He had a feeling they mainly liked him because of how his conversation with Isala during the second month turned into an almost comedy routine. He'd say something at one point, that was a metaphor or a saying of some sort, only to pause and stare at her reaction. Far more than half the time, he'd follow up straight into an explanation about what he'd just said without missing another beat to help her understand. They both learned to ignore the raucous laughter that usually came from her squad rather quickly. By the end of the second month, she'd finally come to realize that she felt something for him a bit different than she did with her squad mates. She felt the urge to be with him a bit stronger than she did with them, and that was even after the novelty of meeting a new person wore off. He made no comment about how she slowly ended up sitting or standing closer to him either as he worked, or when he was off duty. He already had the squad's "approval," according to them.

    Half way through the third month, the crew was jerked into action by a sudden bombardment from hostiles in a nearby patch of floating rubble from a pair of collided asteroids. Pirates as thought it would be a smart idea to attack the military recon unit despite being vastly outgunned. They figured with their sheer numbers, they'd at least be able to board the ships and  and overwhelm them with bodies. While the frigate's piloting crew was taking care of business as efficiently as possible in the vacuum, a number of smaller craft were able to force their way inside. Unfortunately for them, their numbers only really helped them keep their first foothold, as the far better trained and armed Perfectians kept picking them off with every attempt to take action. With minimal losses on their side, they pushed the pirates back to their entry vehicles. Paul, who had been with Isala and her squad at the time, was doing his part as well as any other soldier of the military. Although, he wasn't quite up to par with the Murmur squad he had found himself with, he wasn't useless. A fact quickly made true when he and the rest of the squad spotted one of the pirates heft up a rocket launcher- old model, too, from what he could see. But the antique wasn't what was surprising about it- it was the fact that the idiot was about to launch an explosive inside a space ship. He also noticed that the fool was aiming it more towards Isala and he knew for a fact that she was in a horrible place to get away from a weapon like that. He acted at the same time as the rocket left the tube (much to the pirate's own allies' dismay, he idly noted).

    With a quickly executed pro-level tackle (as the squad's ex-sportsman would tell him later), he went deaf and blind as pain scorched up his legs and back- just barely feeling a jagged spike of shrapnel scrape past his inner forearm and probably lodge itself in the wall.

    As the young man blacked out from the pain and likely shock, Isala was left staring wide-eyed at his action- knowing full well that would have crippled her if not killed her without him taking the brunt of it and getting them further away from the point of impact. After a short moment (a pause she'd curse herself about later, since she was better than pausing even slightly in the middle of a battle, dammit!), she was up in arms, death guiding her barrel (and knife, in one poor sap's case) in dispensing a righteous finale to the enemy that hurt her friend(?). In record time, she (with minimal help from her squad, despite their honest attempt) made sure the rest of the intruders were cooling corpses, she rushed back to Paul and proceeded to fret over him as he squad covered her in understanding. Really, they didn't need to worry about much as far as pirates went- she was very... thorough, and the rest of the attack was over within thirty minutes both within and outside of the Wonder Vault.

    The next day, Isala received some rather grave news: Paul was badly injured. In no fear of dying, for sure, but he was partially paralyzed in the legs, and would likely take years to be able to walk without support. He'd received burns and trauma all along the back of his legs, not to mention the shrapnel that had it's way with the limbs. His nerves were beyond medicinal repair. They could put his legs back together, but he was in no shape to continue his duty. He was almost worthless to the military outside of experience and piloting. That wasn't enough.

    He'd be shipped back home with nothing to his name except his clothes and a ruined pair of legs (and maybe the cane they issue him). She'd known through their conversations- he had nobody to go back to. A few distant cousins that he hadn't even traded holiday cards with since he was seven, so she doubted they even remembered him. He'd be alone, with nothing, and nobody to help him. It took her nearly ten minutes to realize that he'd been awake during the reveal and looked worriedly at her. Why was her worried about her? She was fine- he sacrificed himself for her! He should worry about himself-

    And her thoughts stopped when he reached up and wiped the water that had trickled down her cheek. Oh. She hadn't done this since she was five and watched a thug kick her puppy to death (the ass got what was coming to him, of that you can be assured). With that thought in mind, and a new one forming, she abruptly leaned forward (he loved that she wore a wife-beater at that moment) and caught his head between her palms and made her stare her in the eye. Before mashing her lips to his (her first kiss! Wasn't there supposed to be a flash or singing or something? Oh well, it was... warm), she said one sentence.

    "Just wait for me, Reynold."

    He sat wide-eyed (although quite pleased at the happenings) as she marched out of the infirmary. Well... Sure- he could wait? He knew she joined far before he did, and was only a couple years from completing her fifteen years (he still didn't know how she got in as young as she did. There were laws about that,a after all). Its not like he'd be able to find a girl to be with in that time anyway: he was quite a flawed creature now and currently had nothing to his name. He'd probably need a couple years just to get on his feet... Pun not intended. He'd just leave her some of his information to know where he'd likely be so she can look later, if she still feels up to it...

    A week later, the day he'd be transported back to his home world, he realized what she meant by "wait." Instead of getting shipped off in one of the standard interplanetary transports as is the norm, he was bagged and dragged the moment he found himself alone in a short hallway in the spaceport. Within minutes, he found himself inside what was a decidedly military transport vessel- one he knew was armed to the teeth from experience- and surrounded by the familiar sight of the Murmur squad grinning at him. After getting shoved (pulled, actually, since the hand on his shoulder came from behind him) into a chair- the pilot chair??- he was spun around to find Isala's face inches from his, smirking.

    "Good, you waited."

    Apparently, Murmur Squad was pending a promotion for quite a while now. They'd act as "freelance" agents still under direct command of the military, but they'd only take part in high-risk missions and assignments. The main difference was that they'd be given free reign of their time outside of said missions: They had their own ship to do other missions and personal activities at their leisure. The main reason they hadn't taken the offer before was that they couldn't pilot a ship to save their own lives. Even Isala couldn't pilot anything bigger than an lancer-class fighter. Nobody else suggested to be assigned with them met their requirements. Paul, on the other hand (after some significant loopholes and string-playing), was a well documented pilot, and a technician to boot. On a ship this small, his impairment would hardly be a a problem. Since he wasn't to be "let go" until he reached the base on his home planet, he was still technically of the pool from which the squad could choose a candidate. He couldn't help the grin that crossed his face to join theirs as they explained it to him.

    Looks like he did have someone to support him after all.

Her Quirk: Isala Victez grew up on Hallone Five, originally a colony of the Entonians before the Empire absorbed them. Her mother passed away in childbirth, and her father was a sickly fellow who couldn't stay around for long, but he was a stubborn man who refused to leave his daughter for as long as he could. He finally passed away when she was ten- seven years longer than the doctors said he'd ever have a chance at lasting. Afterwards, she found herself taken in by the family friend (the closest thing to a brother her father ever had, he once admitted) who'd served two terms in the military before calling it quits to settle down with his wife. While they had no children of their own, they gladly took her in, even if it was a bit late to really "raise" her as their own. When she was seven, a local hooligan found her playing with a stray puppy and having the time of her life while her father and "uncle" watched from across the park. They started making their way to her once the brute started kicking the puppy purely out of spite and sheer brutality. Halfway there, Isala snapped out of her shock and, with a  bit of brutality of her own, lowered him down to her level with a few well-placed kicks and grabbing a rather sturdy branch from the ground. BY the time they made it, the man was curled up and covered in welts and splinters before the branch snapped for her onslaught. After that, her "uncle" decided to start teaching her the ways of combat and battle- she clearly had a knack for it, after all. By the time she joined the military, she was a prodigy of war and bloodshed with a large dash of leadership thrown in. Unfortunately, she was socially awkward when she wasn't beating someone into a pile of whimpers and bodily fluids.

His Quirk: Paul Reynold lost both his parents to an outbreak of an infection (called the "Synaptimosis" virus, which caused quick and upward brain damage. The only symptom being a vague feeling of numbness in the extremities for no reason before succumbing within 24 hours) when he was young, but soldiered through to graduate from secondary and into a military preparation school. He soon rose through ranks as a moderately well known and respected technician, and eventually pilot, that served time on several important ships and installations. He was known for always having an answer to a problem (as far as fixing tech went), and being willing to spread the knowledge those less experienced. His piloting, while above average, was never really given a chance to shine, and so was only noted somewhat by his license examiners. As far as combat was concerned, he wasn't anything special or noteworthy. He could use any weaponry that training supplied and always kept his handgun at his side, but rarely had to use it outside of the range. Not to say he had no field experience, but he was mainly support in those few skirmishes he got caught up in. Somewhere in the back of his mind, though, he always wanted to travel the stars either on his own, or with a group in a much smaller ship than all of these capital-ships he was usually stationed on. That or a girlfriend, perhaps.

Status: Engaged
Image size
1219x1758px 571.64 KB
Make
Photosmart
Model
Prem C310 series
© 2015 - 2024 oobidoobi
Comments27
Join the community to add your comment. Already a deviant? Log In
JohnPeacekeeper's avatar
Whoa. This is pretty good, especially the story.

Consider making that a manga?