Family Matters

Marcus's feet creaked on the smooth wooden floor of his house, so smooth in fact that if you were just wearing socks when walking around, you would slip and slide all over the place. 

As a child he used to do this on purpose, much to the annoyance of his parents whenever he would crash into something due to picking up too much speed. 

He took off his shoes quietly, slinking into the living room. But, to no surprise, his parents were already there, waiting for him, the anger across his father's face in this moment was immeasurable and the grief that struck his mother's face was almost enough to send Marcus over the edge of changing his decision.

"Can you comprehend how much we both paid for you to go to that school?" His father, Frank, growled.

"No-" As soon as Marcus spoke up he was immediately drowned out by a cacophony of shouts.

"Don't you dare speak over me boy, it took us a quarter of our savings, over 20 Tir in total for us to send you there, and you repay us by saying that nonsense at the graduation, condemning yourself, embarrassing yourself, as well as us!" Frank shouted without interruption, making Marcus's ears ring, his mother instinctively covered her ears as tears welled in her eyes. 

One Tir was worth 100 Silf, you could buy the spacious and comfortable three bedroom home that Marcus and his family lived in for around 100 Tir, even for a wealthy middle class family like them, 20 Tir was certainly no small amount. 

"But-" Marcus attempted to get a word in, however, this seemed to be a mistake.

"You won't be able to give any excuse to get out of this, did we not raise you correctly? Why are you cursing us like this? Do you not want to see us again?" The father desperately questioned, his anger seemed to quickly dissipate into sadness as he stared at his son.

"This is for you, of course it is , you remember what he said in 2040, as a pilot, I have a responsibility to protect you all and ensure we can still live life together as a family." 

"If that really is true, then let some other crazed pilot do it, there's no point in having a responsibility for us if you go out there, never seeing us again, me and your mother won't be able to handle it, and we haven't even factored in your brother's reaction." Frank's logic was undeniable here, it was a one in a million chance of him coming back. 

"You may think that, but I promise with all my heart that I'm going to return to you, without a scratch, my mind isn't clouded with doubts and hesitations, I know what I need to do." Marcus stated with all his chest, conviction staining his every word.

"Promises only go so far in this world, as a military man, do you think whenever I shot someone, their same promises of returning to their family magically formed a forcefield around them? No, a hole blew through their skull." Frank stated, his face the picture of sternness. 

Marcus's father had served in the army during the height of the planetary terror skirmishes. This period of unease was caused by more frequent information coming out regarding the 'stardust' and the fact that the Congregation was hoarding it for themselves.

This lead to many developing ignorant ideas regarding what the substance could do, such as curing ills and solving poverty, therefore many rebel groups formed to fight for it, committing atrocities and terrorist strikes on numerous cities and important locations in the Dominion, before being finally pushed to the very outer-areas of the controlled systems. 

And in that case, this would mean Frank's words were supported by his experience of battlefields, and as a subsequent witness of traumatic events. 

This made Marcus reflect once again on what he would get caught up in on his journey, but nonetheless, his stubborn spirit pushed him on. 

His mother suddenly broke free from the side of Marcus's father, she ran up to him, wrapping him in a warm and enveloping hug. 

"I've worked tirelessly so that you can make your own choices, I know my son, a kind boy who can triumph through anything he sets his mind to, but you have to remember to be careful, please, your brother needs you." 

Catelyn sobbed into Marcus's arms, and at the sight of his mother crying, the young man simply couldn't contain himself, with thin streams of water beginning to slide down his face. 

"I'm sure I'll be able to contact you all regularly whilst on the ship, it'll be like I never left." He tried to reassure them with a grin, but his father simply scowled, turning around.

The reason why his mother was more open to the idea was simply because of her nature, she was a little ignorant to the true dangers faced by becoming a Spacer, unlike his father, who, as a military man, was privy to the incidents caused and faced by Spacers. 

This makes me feel incredibly guilty. 

Solemn thoughts such as those entered his mind as his mother retreated from his embrace, instead beginning to walk towards the kitchen. Marcus would wipe his face clean of tears.

"You can go talk to your brother about it, it's six o'clock now, dinner's going to be ready within the hour." His mother gently stated.

"We haven't clued him in much on what's happening, so you'll be breaking the news to him." Frank spouted with a tut.

"Okay, I'll see you both at dinner." Marcus said with a nod as he walked up the carpeted stairs of his house and onto the first floor. 

His brother's room was at the far end of the hallway, on the left, with his own room being just opposite it. 

He decisively sauntered on over, opening the door with a push of the handle, every single door inside the house was a traditional hinged one. 

As it creaked open, he saw his brother sitting on his bed, kicking his legs aimlessly as though he was lost in thought. His room was filled with various gadgets haphazardly thrown on the floor, and he always had the air conditioning set to high, so a light breeze permeated the air around Marcus when he walked in. 

"It's your big brother here. Over." He mimicked one of those antique walkie-talkies by holding his fist up to his mouth, when they were younger, Isaac always loved when he did it. 

"I'm Twelve, hardly a little kid anymore, that stuff doesn't interest me, besides, I know what happened between you, mom, and dad." He shrugged his shoulders on the bed.

This kid really does grow up fast, I thought I could partially pull the wool over his eyes by acting silly, now I've got to explain it in depth to him I suppose.

"Marcus, are you going to be okay?" Is all he says with a concerned expression on his face.

"Of course I am." 

"Then I think I'd like to be a Spacer like you when I grow up." 

"You mustn't." 

"Why, Marcus?" Isaac furrows his eyebrows.

"Because you'll make a better Admiral then a corpse." Marcus's words caused his little brother's eyes to widen, he didn't have to beat around the bush, Isaac was 12 now, so he was able to partially understand the depth of his elder brother's warning.

Marcus quickly decided to change onto a brighter topic.

"Shall we have a go on your simulation projector, for old times sake?" 

"Sure!" 

They used to do this a lot when they were younger, it was certainly a standout moment of both of their years growing up.

Isaac clambered over various toys and gadgets to pick up the two slim black headsets, they both had a multitude of deep, yet small lenses jutting out at every angle. 

He offered it to his older brother, who took it with a grin.

I'm going to whoop him, he hasn't played against me in two years, and this is after receiving formal combat training. 

Today's the day I beat my older brother.

They both had similar thoughts regarding the outcome of this.

As soon as they placed the headsets on their heads, and his little brother scrolled with his finger to a certain environment, they were thrust into a completely new world, separate from their own. 

Acclimation was beginning, small tubes in the headset pressed themselves against the head of the two, as small electric pulses sped through them and into their brains.

The sights, smells, and sounds of the world came absolutely to life, and it became indistinguishable from reality.

Marcus looked around, sunshine illuminated pale yellows upon the normally grizzly looking village, nestled on thatched roofs were various birds that'd caw and chirp, and people dressed in drab tunics rushed past, with leather bags and carts, either filled with vegetables or weapons. 

He saw his little brother across the crowd, this time he looked 10 years older, a grizzly beard patched his face, and he was head to toe in a rugged dark brown leather armour set, with lines of chainmail snaking underneath. In his grasp was a shining arming sword which he held with one hand.

"Are you ready!" Isaac called out from amidst the crowd.

Marcus was also head to toe in his own set of mainly chainmail armour, these were the pre-sets they had last time they played, suiting their specific tastes. In his hand, he gripped a longsword tightly with both hands.

"It's going to go like every other time, but sure." Marcus mused as he ran forwards, the crowd suddenly dissipated into light as he did so, leaving a market square completely devoid of life except for him and Isaac.

Isaac seemed to be much more swift then the last time they had played, it made sense, the simulation placed your current body in a virtual situation, similar to a lucid dream with the signals that those connectors put through you, he was 10 last time he faced Marcus.

The young boy genuflected as he got to where Marcus was standing, carrying his arming sword in a downwards arc with the momentum of his sudden kneel, the side of the sword was aimed straight at Marcus's unprotected head. 

Marcus's veins popped through the surface of his hand as he tensed his grip, rotating the longsword to face horizontally in order to deflect the blow. 

CLANG!

The two edges clashed and scraped against each other, forming an unpleasant screech. 

Isaac used the advantage of his smaller arming sword to quickly deflect off of the blow, not allowing it to turn into a struggle, in which the heavier longsword would clearly prevail, instead, he rolled to the side and out of the kneel, away from any immediate danger by the hand of his elder brother.

"I've gotten better haven't-" His younger brother's words were interrupted by Marcus stepping forwards, his waist pivoted, allowing his shoulder to extend forwards to deliver a thrust with the lengthy blade that his longsword was composed of.

Isaac reflexively brought his arming sword down vertically on Marcus's sword which was travelling completely straight towards him, in an attempt to direct the stab away from his face. 

The corner's of Marcus's mouth curled upwards.

As the arming sword collided with the thrusting longsword, the older brother released his grip of the weapon, instead of Isaac and Marcus's swords grinding together, the arming sword had no opposing force, making it overswing and send the longsword into the mud below.

Marcus stepped forwards again, Isaac tried to recover by swinging his blade in a horizontal arc to slice into his older brother's side, but he was too sluggish.

Two years of training allowed him to wrap both palms around Isaac's sword grasping right hand, twisting his wrist forcefully downwards, and yanking the arming sword right out of his grip. 

The action of pulling his wrist downwards also led to Isaac's entire upper half being tugged a little towards the floor, which Marcus would use to carry his left elbow straight into his younger brother's nose. 

The simulation only allowed for numbness rather then pain, so Isaac was sent into a slight daze.

But this was enough, Marcus rotated Isaac's stolen blade around to face his younger brother, stepping in as he thrust it through his chest.

It reached the other side in a moment, and 'blood' gushed out of the newly created wound.

"Why can't I ever beat you." A playful scowl appeared on Isaac's face.

"You had no chance, I'm a Spacer, you know." He wanted to connote his future job positively for once to his brother, no more doom and gloom. 

Both of their avatars were suddenly picked apart into dissipating pixels, this included the immersive environment around them as they were thrust back into reality. 

A cool breeze surrounded them, alleviating the sweat beading off of both of their foreheads, the simulation headsets provide real physical stress whilst playing after all, which is why it's often used as a workout method. 

"Dinner!" A voice emanated from downstairs.

"We're on time." A grin from Marcus towards Isaac, who promptly followed him out of the cool room and downstairs. 

The dining room was connected to the kitchen, although it was still incredibly spacious, with the table being situated under a skylight, gloomy blue palettes of dusk darkness cast down onto the steaming plates of food arranged over the dining table.

Sweet and savoury smells overwhelmed Marcus's nose as he sat down at the table, looking over, observing the gaze of his father, who had already prepared a plate for himself, yet, out of courtesy, had not started eating. 

He's clearly still not come to terms with it, neither would I, but once again, he doesn't know I have my reasons.

His mother and younger brother quickly sat down to eat, beginning to plate up their food.

Among the options was a beautifully seasoned and cut chicken, braised lamb shanks, steamed potatoes, or the alternative mashed potato, either a cauliflower cheese or beef gravy stock for sauces. And all types of vegetables, ranging from carrots to broccoli. Various garnishes were also available.

Marcus quickly selected the lamb shank, a few slices of chicken, cauliflower cheese sauce would be decisively dripped over the chicken, whilst gravy thickly clung to the lamb shanks as he poured. He then made sure to grind some pepper all over his dish.

As soon as he plated, he brought a fork down to the streaming pile of goodness his mom had prepared for him.

I'm going to miss this the most.

He scooped a portion of everything on the plate into his mouth, his eyes watered slightly as it was still hot, his younger brother chuckled under his breath at the weird expression Marcus had made trying to cope with the temperature.

"You've always been rash when it comes to food." His mother giggled.

His father said nothing.

"Yeah, especially with decisions too, just like how he's going to become a Spacer!" His younger brother exclaimed, still clearly too young to know social etiquette.

Marcus widened his eyes.

Frank's fist slammed down on the table, almost knocking a glass of wine that was next to Frank over, however Catelyn reacted in time to save it.

"There will be no more of this talk." His father said with a serious inflection.

No one spoke for the rest of the meal, choosing to silently enjoy it.

When desserts rolled around, it was brownies drenched in vanilla ice-cream, which quickly melted under the heat of the sticky chocolate. This was lapped up by the two brothers, meanwhile Frank and Catelyn passed on this, deciding to indulge in wine instead.

The meal was specially prepared for his graduation, but his choice and the mood as a result had ruined the atmosphere, so to save grace with his father, Marcus decided to go to bed without any further words, only slinking off to say goodnight to his mother and little brother.

He walked sluggishly up to the bathroom with tiredness tracing lines under his eyes.

When he reached the sink, he cupped some warm water in his hand, splashing it over his face, before looking in the mirror.

What gazed back was a relatively handsome man whose dripping and slightly curly brown hair had a tinge of orange whenever the light reflected off of it, he was thankful he never needed to shave his head in the academy because his unkempt hair was his prized possession, though his nose was a bit too button like, and combined with his face being too smooth, meant he wouldn't ever be considered a rugged man.

His amber eyes searched for the toothbrush, and so he finished his nightly routine within a few minutes.

Sauntering out the bathroom, he passed by his father, who said nothing to him once more, the only acknowledgment was a second of eye contact.

Marcus disappeared into his bedroom, a collection of memories when growing up, it was rather warm because he had turned the heating on solely in his room, as opposed to Isaac, Marcus enjoyed being warm over being cold, even whilst sleeping.

He clambered into bed, pulling the sheets over his body as he turned to the side.

"Is it tonight?" He mumbles underneath his covers.

His eyes shut. 

Until they suddenly sprang open, his pupils constricting when faced with the sudden blinding brightness of the room he was in.

He found himself sat down on an uncomfortable chair, in some stuffy waiting room which looked to be a century old, intense bright lights were buzzing and blinking above him.

"It's happening again, not on time for once." He says out loud, concern glistening his speech.

The same continuous dream that compelled him to sign his life away to the stars.

"Could I have Mr. Marcus Debecross, you've got someone on the line." A monotone and scratchy robotic voice spoke from some intercom, yet there were no clear sources for the sound.

His eyes widened.

It didn't do that before.