Loyalties

Chapter 1: The Start

Gershwarve Ranch, Catakus II, Eastmarch
Date: 09543020
C'mon Adrian, I think as I pull the bolt back on my rifle. Although I hold a rifle, I'm a normal guy. Short black hair, light brown eyes, a bit built. I'm pretty intelligent, and I have my eye on a girl. I think she's  Grand Duke Drake Daemon's daughter, but I can't be sure.
"Now, son," my father says. "Make sure the rifle is pressed up against your shoulder. Now, look down the sights, and pull the trigger."
My dad was one of the better recon soldiers in the Space Rangers. He could snipe a hostile's head off who's 200 yards away, with hills. If it were straight, then, as far as the rail could go. His weary grey eyes tell the story, his black hair turning grey. His muscle build is still there a little bit, but he's coming on 90, so, you can't blame him. He retired early so he could be with my mom and I.
I can feel the stock pressed on my shoulder, the small indents of the stock, providing a relaxing feeling. The sights may look like two curved metal tubes, but they are a whirl of technology. In the middle is a red dot, which signifies the middle. There also is the range of the target, and rail projection accuracy.
I pull the trigger. I guess I'll never get used to the thunder of the semi. However, I'm prepared for the recoil. The rail slams out of the barrel, and in its wake is left a trail of smoke. I lower the rifle. There, 100 yards away, I can see a neat hole in the target. I can't help but smile.
"Great shot, son!" my father claps me on the back. "The military could use a man like you, Adrian!"
Holding the gun in one hand, I follow my father back into the ranch.
"Dad," I say as I watch my father take one of the horses out of her stall. "I don't want to be on the ground." My father looks up. "I want to be on the bridge, controlling everything. I mean, chances are I'll still go on the ground-"
"You'd be surprised," my father interrupts. "Being on the ground gives you an adrenaline rush."
I nod my head, and walk back towards the house.
"Don't forget your project!" Father yells to me. Right... Today's Sunday... I have school tomorrow. I wish I could say fuck it! and not go, but I need to. To be a starship captain. To be only the best.
Being 20 is actually not half bad. Although I'm still in school, I don't mind. Only three more years, then, the military. I walk into the house. It really isn't anything special. Sure, we have an android to do some work, but that's it. We have normal appliances, just like every other family.
I walk up to my room, and hang my rifle up on its stand. My desk is littered with papers filled with pictures and words. I just want to go to sleep, but I need to organize this shit. Fuck..., I think as I shove papers into my binder, and pray it closes. I walk over to my bed, flop down, and go to sleep.
*
Here I am. Just standing, alone, on an empty street. It's dark, gloomy, and lonely. I'm holding my rifle against my shoulder, aimed at a man dressed in business attire holding a pistol. I focus in on his head, and pull the trigger. The feel is so nice, so smooth. The man looks to be 200 yards away, but I still hit my target. The limp figure falls to the ground in a heap. I look around to make sure no one is watching, when I feel a rail shot pass through my chest.
However, I'm not dead. Then another hits my arm. Then, shots seem to be taken from all directions. I can only stand there as my body gets shredded to pieces of blood and flesh as so many tiny pieces of metal pass through me. The pain is excruciating, yet, I can't scream. I don't know if i still feel it anymore. I stare in horror as I watch my arm fall the the ground, and I can still move my fingers!
Blood paints the tarmac red with pieces of pink flesh littered all throughout. I close my eyes, and wait for the horror to be done with. Something passes through my head. And I feel my body collapse to the ground.
*
I wake up abruptly. What the hell was that all about?! I hate my dreams sometimes. The bright, early morning sun blasts through my window, lighting my whole room up.
I look at my phone. 8:38. Still early... I clumsily walk downstairs, where the sweet smell of bacon fills my nostrils.
"Morning sweetheart," my mom says as she pulls the hot pan off the stove. My mom is a couple head younger than my dad, but she has went in for a couple de-aging sessions, so she looks around 40. It's scary as hell. "How'd you sleep?"
"I slept pretty good," I say, pulling out a chair. As soon as the plate lands in front of me, I wolf my down my breakfast.
"You gotta get going," my mom says, smiling.
I look at the clock. Fuck, I think as I burst out the front door, running towards the bus stop.