𝐼 𝓃𝑒𝑒𝒹 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒𝒹𝑜𝓂 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓂𝓎 𝓂𝒾𝓃𝒹, 𝒻𝓇𝑜𝓂 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝑜𝓇𝒹𝑒𝓇, 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑔𝒾𝓋𝑒 𝓂𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉.
Joseta Pro'oz, a pilot/medic with a sunny disposition is thrown into a war bigger than she ever imagined. As she fights alongside Ca...
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Rex dragged his feet into his room, glad to be done with another mission. The past eight months had been long with gruesome battles and heart-racing missions to deal with. His body ached for rest, but his mind dreaded it. It meant he would think of her.
Joseta, the girl he knew for not even two months but had shaken his world. Anytime he closed his eyes he saw her throw her head back in laughter, the sound ringing in his ears. One should think that the past eight months would have given him closure, but it only made him more antsy. She had started off writing him online messages, but it stopped about five months ago and he wasn't even sure if she was okay. What if she had gotten sick? What if she took a mission and died on it? What if she was in a shuttle crash like her father? So many possibilities crossed his mind and he might never know.
So, he kept himself busy. Even when little things reminded him of her, he would try to remain focused on work and war. His organization system was a reminder, the books on his shelf were a reminder, any flower was a reminder...he saw her in everything. And he heard Dey Gelo everywhere. She was always on the forefront of his mind. Even in battle, he moved a little faster, pushed a little further, and tried a little harder to win with her in mind. He needed to see her again. To at least have a proper goodbye.
Rex sat on his bed, the mattress creaking beneath him. He held his helmet in hand, looking at the blaster mark on the side of it. His helmet had once again protected him from death by clankers. He pulled out a pocket knife from his belt, flicking the blade open. He then lowered the knife to dig another tally mark into the white paint, blowing the particles away as he brushed over the new mark with his thumb. Another blast survived.
Setting his helmet on his side-table, he took off each piece of armor before setting it on the floor. So many tally marks. So many times he almost died. But the tally marks were a good reminder of thankfulness. He was lucky to be alive. Maker knew why he was still here. He must have some purpose or future. A future hopefully besides war.
The image of Joseta laughing once again crossed his mind. Pushing the thought away, Rex swung his legs onto his bed, lying down. He stared at the ceiling as his heart slowed within his chest. His gaze glanced across the names of the brothers he had lost that were etched into the ceiling. Standing up, he took the knife to write one more name on the ceiling.
99.
He sat back down, cross-legged as he shut the knife. He placed his head in his hands as a few tears slipped down his face. How many more brothers would go?
【 '۷' 】
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