Humble Abode

I open the cafeteria door, finding a nearby table to rest in. Walking downstairs is always more awkward and tedious than walking up them, as such, tiring. The cafeteria, the room closest to the tower, is the furthest from my room. The two buildings, furthest down the runway I mentioned before, are separated into two different roles. The one I'm in handles data and logistics. The other, is predominately for crew accommodation. I understand that the food is kept in the logistics building. And we have a lot of personnel to accommodate. But wouldn't it be more efficient for the cafeteria to be moved into the other building!? I mean, it will lower traffic between the two buildings. Especially in the early morning when crew flow is high.

Well, that's enough philosophy for a break, I wanna lie down. I stand, walking towards the halls posted on the other side of the cafeteria. Waving towards the welcoming base staff as I pass by. I walk down the halls, up a flight of stairs, and find myself in the sky bridge. With no one around, I stop. Looking out into the airbases activity as I lean against the safety rail. The gentle desert breeze blows through my wavering clothes as I spot engineers working on a SAM site. In the distance, people seeming so small. I've always enjoyed just looking out, staring into nothing. Pondering what's around me, it's oddly calming. Especially when the dark orange sky is present like it is now.

The sound of scraping footsteps awakens me from my trance. From the accommodation building, a listless man sags around the corner. His black hair in full disarray. Dressed in his pajamas and slippers. He pauses, turns towards me, then stumbles along his journey, sagging his feet as he staggers around. I call out to him receiving no reply, he walks by paying me no mention. Rare to see Nick out so early... Well, 7:45 PM is quite early for him. Nick Play, a fellow AeroCord pilot. He flies Jester, an artillery class. Artillery classes specialize and focus on overwhelming the enemy with pure strength and force. Usually being stacked to the brim with Astrapi filled missiles. Artillery classes, although more agile than most fighters. They're the equivalent of a top-speed bus turning with an F1 car when paired to Spirit of course. Nicks generally doesn't like being up during the day, preferring the night much more. In that, I fully agree. He must hate when he receives an unexpected mission, despite their frequency. Nick rounds the corner with the aim of what I assume, the cafeteria. Can't stand here forever, nudging my legs forward for my room.

Finally ending my day's adventure, I reach a door. Beside it, a metal plaque. Engraved on it reads the name JAX DRAPER, my room. Sliding my hand into my pocket, I pull out a plastic card. Running the card through its reader, the door sounds a click, granting me access. Pushing open the door to my small but spacious abode. I step inside shutting the door behind me, a click signals me of its locking. Navigating the darkness guided only by the moonlight, I walk over to my own mini kitchen. I find my kitchen pretty useless outside nice decoration and food storage. Mostly due to my inability to cook. A skill I really should take up in the future. You may be wondering, "Why do you have a kitchen if there's a cafeteria". It's quite simple. We can request a certain amount of food and items from the cafeteria. Where we can cook our own meals and hold our own drinks. Pretty nice feature due to the cafeteria's distance from the dorms. For those who can't cook, suck it up, walk to the cafeteria. Me, outside of storing leftovers, use it as a midnight snack and drink storage. I pull out a bag of spicy chips and 2 bottles of flavored water.

Setting them down on my stiff bed as I climb over to my windowsill. I specifically asked for my windowsill to be big enough for me to lay in. It gives me the best view of the cliffs below. Setting myself onto the windowsill I grab my bag of chips, popping it open. Satisfied with my position I finally look outside the window. The sun, now completely set. Reveals the dark sky above, only to be interrupted by the shimmering stars. I shift my eyes towards the cliff below. The rocks glittering softly from the gentle moonlight. I gaze further out into the void of the desert. The normally harsh grey orange sands, being replaced with a gentle blue. A view like this can never be replaced, never getting old. But I must admit, building a base shouldering a cliff like this. Doesn't look like the most thought-out idea. But at least the logistics of the base will be fine, just not the staff.

I awaken to find myself in a tent. I push myself off the hammock, feet barely able to reach the ground. It seems I've fallen asleep and reentered this reoccurring dream. In these dreams, I seem to still be a small kid, in my estimation around 13. Although I know this is a dream due to its frequency, I never have any control inside of it. Instead, being a passenger watching through the eyes of some kid... I dress and grab my rifle, throwing it around my shoulder. It's nearly as long as I am tall. Wandering outside the tent rubbing my eyes, clearing my blurred vision.

"Look who finally decided to wake up!"

"Shut it, May."

I say snapping back with an aggravated tone. Content with my vision, I look towards the speaker. A tall girl bends over, greeting me with a warm smile, rifle, and hair danging under her. I see May quite often in these dreams. She has brown hair, reaching down to her waist. In my eyes, she's quite tall. But compared to others she stands slightly shorter. She erects herself standing tall. Exposing her multi-toned green camouflage uniform, right shoulder bearing a US flag. She brushes her hair off to one side, exposing her hazel eyes.

"Do you know what time it is?"

My high-pitched voice cracking ever so lightly. I clear my hoarse, raspy voice with a small cough.

May: "It's 7 AM sharp. And where is your helmet, Jack?"

Jack: "I keep telling you, it's way too big for me. It's a way bigger hindrance than the protection it'll give. Especially in battle."

May: "You never know, better safe than sorry."

May walks into my tent, returning with the aforementioned oversized helmet. Crouching down, she slides it over my head. In which, it completely covers my eyes. Acting as if it were a blindfold, not a helmet. She adjusts it, allowing vision in return for my ability to tilt my neck any more than 5 degrees up. Buckling it into place with a snap.

May: "Look I know they said they'll get you a properly sized helmet. And I know this one is too big for you. But for me, and your safety just keep it, k?"

Jack: "You know I'll never put myself into a situation where it'd be used."

May: "I know, but it's better safe than sorry. Please?"

Hands tied from her unending crusade, I let out a defeated sigh.

Jack: "Fine."

May hops around in glee, rejoicing from my reply. Walking past her dance of joy I climb on top of a small sandbag. Peaking over another sandbag outside the miniature base. We sit on a lookout point atop a hill. With tall pointed trees spanning miles in each direction. Miles more in the distance, other hills show themselves. Each riddled with trees of their own. From atop one of the hills a light flashes. Instinctively I drop under the sandbag. An ear-piercing crackle snaps inches over the sandbag fractions of a second later, pesky snipers. I look over the base. The 8 or so other people crouched over ready to react. I call out a sniper alerting the team.

May: "Get down from there! Poking your head out like that is asking for you to get sniped! Don't you see why I had you wear that helmet!?"

I wave off her nagging rant. Satisfied with my recon, I slide off the sandbag. My helmet falls over my eyes as I land. Pushing it up, I reach for the buckle. May, stands in front of me, obviously trying to guilt-trip me with her puppy eyes. I let out another sigh, dropping my hands in defeat. She gifts me another warm smile. A thundering voice echos over the base's stagnant air as one of my squadmates cry out:

"ENEMY ATTACK."