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-Al'Kashir
-Troop Dropship

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Folvik sat quietly among the other soldiers, he was the squad’s designated marksman – the squad’s sharpest pair of eyes. He leaned his head back to feel the rumble of the transport and feel the vibration of every thundering explosion. He was among the fresh faces who would see combat for the first time and at that moment he felt every conflicting thought and emotion hit him all at once. He was sweating and he could feel his stomach churning at the very movement of the drop ship, nauseated by the thought of seeing real combat with real consequences. ”One thousand and one, one thousand and two, one thousand and three –“ Folvik whispered the numbers to himself in a vain attempt to calm his nerves. His mind drifted back to his memories of when his life was different – when he was home.

His home world, Tyr III, is an agricultural planet that food corporations use to harvest their goods. The Strelitz Corporation, a company ran by his family bought off thirty percent of the world’s arable land to use for business purposes, his grandfather however, partitioned two percent of that land to make their family grounds; they have lived there for three generations. Folvik was raised under a roof; given real food, and tutored by private instructors – Folvik was part of the upper class. He left that life of his own volition for a career that would put him in direct danger – he even remembers how he got his father to let him do so.

Folvik had recently turned twenty, he and his father head out into the wilderness of their family grounds for a few days to go hunting. It was a sunny afternoon that day, they were tracking a bear around the area they were hunting in. They stalked the big apex predator through the forest in their family grounds, they've been doing so for the past mile or two since spotting it and have been discovering fresh territory markings along the way – the bear was close. They moved quietly as they searched for the bear. Folvik saw the bear roughly a hundred and fifty meters away, he brought his rifle up slowly and checked to see if they were down wind of the bear; they were already doing the best they could to hide their scent but it was best to stay safe, especially around an apex predator. Folvik peered through the scope and placed the crosshairs towards the front shoulder and pulled the point of aim back to where the lungs would be. Folvik patiently waited for the best shot he could get on a moving bear. The bear stopped, moved its front leg forward allowing Folvik to get a good sight picture, he squeezed the trigger and let the shot ring out, his father followed up with another shot shortly after. The bear was hit, it was startled and scared and it started to run and stumble, Folvik racked the bolt of his gun again and put another shot into the bear and that was the shot that put it down.

They walked up cautiously to their quarry, his father took out his handgun in case the bear was still breathing but as he got closer he put it away. “Good hunting son, as always…” Folvik came up to inspect the kill, he walked past his father and knelt beside the carcass to see if it was worth collecting as another trophy. His father put one hand on his right shoulder then Folvik spoke, “North American Grizzly, though this one is a little smaller than the one you've hunted by yourself father, it might not be fit for your trophy room.”

“Nonsense! Any big game collected by my son is worthy of our trophy room, after all, one day you will show your sons our collection after you inherit our business and ultimately these very grounds.”

“About that father…” Folvik stood up and turned to face his old man, “I wanted to ask whether you’d be okay with me not inheriting the business or the family grounds.”

His father's face contorted into a scowl as he began to shout, “And why ever not?! I took this business from your grandfather as he took it from his father and so on. I took on the family legacy and made it bigger, we now supply people from Earth all the way to the outer colonies – I did that. I took this business from the brink of ruin and brought it new life! Are you not proud to inherit this business – my legacy? Answer me boy!” his father looked at Folvik with disgust, but Folvik replied as calmly as the soft breeze that afternoon.

“Father, I want to be my own man, I want to be able to prove to myself that I can be more than what is and would be given to me. I want to pursue a career in the military from the ground up and when I retire I will take the company as you wish – worst case scenario you’d give it to my brother, Mikkel if I'm... Less than available.”

His father's expression softened, he had his reservations about the idea, however, he also understood where Folvik was coming from. Folvik was given everything his entire life and though he has shown a sense of responsibility for every endeavor he undertook under his father’s employ, he still felt as if he was living in the shadow of his father and was given things he never earned. “Very well, I understand Folvik Von Strelitz. You wish to feel as if you are independent and prove to me and yourself that you are worthy of inheriting the life I built for you without my aid – I understand that much. However, what I don’t understand is why the military? Why not pursue politics on Earth or start your own business here locally?”

Folvik composed his words for a moment then he began to speak, “Because the military doesn’t care where I’m from, it will treat me like everyone else. The military will teach me discipline beyond what you have given me, it will teach me humility unattainable from our social position, it will teach me fortitude beyond my own mental and physical strength. I feel that this is what I need to be more than I am now and more the man you would want me to be.”

“Very well, if this is your choice son then I will respect it, as your father – no, as Gebhard Von Strelitz. Respect given from one man to another.” his father straightened his posture and looked Folvik in the eyes and envisioned the man he would become, “However Folvik, you must promise me one thing –“

“Yes father?” Folvik was perplexed, his father has never asked him to keep personal promises; he was simply not the kind of man to trust in such verbal contracts.

“Come back in one piece." his father said sullenly, "If not for me, do it for your for your mother's sake. I don't want to see her grieve, do you understand me?” Folvik nodded in agreement and replied with a similar tone, "I promise father." his father turned to examine the kill himself and indeed it was smaller than the trophies he's collected, however, he did not go back on his word – it was the last trophy they would hunt together.

Folvik remembered that day vividly as he continued to count upwards, ”One thousand four, one thousand five, one thousand six, one thousand seven, one thou–” he let out a breath of frustration, he hoped his peers wouldn’t notice how afraid he was, how uneasy he seemed. He felt as if his heart was going to jump out of his chest, the silence within the dropship was unbearable. ”Mother...” his voice trembled as he whispered, he had a promise to keep, but now he doubts if he’ll be able to keep it.

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-Al'Kashir
-Troop Dropship - Landing Zone

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Folvik's body was, by this time, saturated with adrenaline produced by his own body to cope with the stress. As the ramp went down he and the other soldiers disembarked and his boots met with the soft, wet, and muddy texture of the ground with an audible squish; shortly after he took a knee waiting for his C.O. to give them commands. Their C.O. was an ornery, loud mouthed, S.O.B., Folvik figured that if anyone were to survive it'd be him. That illusion was shattered the moment he was shot in the head by some sort of energy weapon, Folvik witnessed the scene as if it were in slow motion, dazed by the sudden death of their C.O. who just a moment ago was spouting tough talk and barking commands like it wasn't anyone's business.

As his C.O. fell, Folvik made a reactionary, adrenaline fueled response to take cover in a nearby defilade and switched the safety of his rifle to the hot position. The screeches from the surrounding area started to intensify, the adrenaline in his body was keeping him alert and fit for combat, he took up a firing position and readied himself to fire at anything that wasn't human. As the screeches drew closer he could almost make out a word.

"Krash'nikar...?"

Suddenly, a screaming, angry lizardman came running out towards their helpless medic who seemed to be in a daze, he took a second to observe noting the damage taken by the creature and promptly aimed for the upper chest, but then he thought again and went for the pelvic area aiming to take the legs of the creature from right under it. It was a big target, he was facing the front of the creature, the shot was clear. He squeezed the trigger and let a bullet fly from his gun ripping through the air and into flesh - No dice.

"Damn flinch!"

He had missed high and left into the lower abdomen clear from any real bone mass. He fired three more shots from his semi-automatic marksman rifle and witnessed the creature fall face flat into the mud and dirt as the creature's pelvis was broken in many places, unable to support the running sprint. The creature wailed in pain as it thrashed helplessly, but Folvik couldn't waste another bullet, he figured that the Medic should be able to finish the job.

Even with the small victory Folvik could not miss a beat, he resolved himself crouched in a small defilade firing into the mass of charging reptilians, picking his shots carefully and getting a feel for their natural movement and anticipating opportunities for more valuable targets. In such a close environment, Folvik took a calculated risk and attached his bayonet, but in the middle of this he was caught off guard by one of the reptilians who came charging into the defilade.

Folvik blocked the first strike with his rifle, and rolled away from the second strike wrapping the attacker's melee weapon with his arm as he attempted to kick the creature away and in response it dug its heels into the mud - it wasn't going far. Folvik was starting to lose the grip on the Lizardman's weapon, he grabbed his pistol with his free hand only to despair as audible clicks were the only things that happened when he pulled the trigger. The lizardman stopped struggling with its weapon and instead fell on top of Folvik in an attempt to beat him to death, Folvik felt around for his bayonet as he struggled for dear life against his bigger opponent. Each fist pounded onto his head like a hammer, the soft mud provided some degree of comfort, however, it was still very painful. He desperately felt around for the hilt of his bayonet. Folvik was starting to get progressively weaker with each strike, when he finally found his bayonet, he thrust the bayonet into the large neck of the creature and repeatedly stabbed it in different areas, his enemy combatant pushed itself off of him and started to cover the wounds with its hands, Folvik finished the job with his rifle and shot his enemy in the head.

Folvik's face was bruised, cut, and bloodied while his once clean armor was now covered in mud and the blood of his enemy. He finished attaching his bayonet to his rifle and continued his attempt to help his team. The day was young and they were still in the thick of fighting.