Storm over Pandora Short- Jax's Story

[Lehrrap Uniltìranyu]

Jax's Story-
A short story addition for STORM OVER PANDORA

   "People can change... to a point."

   "We're an emotional people, and we know it. So much drives the things that makes us human... love, hate, anguish, pride, passion, fear, gluttony... all these things that we label 'emotions', the things that make us most human."

   "We grow, and we change... so, so much. Look at where we are now, standing upon the ashes of the old world, and compare it to the start of the 21st century... so much, in such a short amount of time."

   "But... there is one thing that remains constant. The one trait we share with everything and everyone around us, that no matter what culture you look at, you'll find. Even here, even now. The one thing that doesn't change, but flux in and out of human history, an ever-changing snake that we nurture with our thoughts, our actions, and our minds. Indiscriminately it moves, this beast, taking away all that makes us Human, turning us into nothing more then a wild beast, out for blood, killing sons, daughters, brothers, sisters, fathers, mothers, and anyone that should so dare to stand in its way."

   "War Never Changes."

   The military bar simply known as 'Kansas' was quiet as the men and women inside watched and listened to Gunnery Sergeant James 'Jax' Logain, a proud, upstanding example of a soldier and an expert pilot. He was standing above them, on one of the steel tables, urged on by the men and women there to tell his story, to tell them about Nigeria.

   "My name... was once James Logain. Son of a strong, upstanding marine of a father and a brilliant school teacher of a mother, a young man that had a world of opportunity unfolding before him with every breath, step, and move he took. He had but one dream: To fly. It didn't matter where, or why, or for who he was going to fly. All that mattered was that he would fly, unburdened by the world below him. It was his dream, his only wish."

   "His father taught him, giving him a task, a pathway that would take his son to the sky and beyond, to make him a proud warrior... a United States Marine, just like him. And that young man, that young James Logain, latched onto that dream as if it was the only lifeline he had. He wished to fly, with all of his heart, to be a strong, proud, upstanding soldier in the face of adversity, to stand as defender of all that lay out before him, be it man, woman, country, or a stranger on the street."

   Jax shook his head slowly. "But the problem with dreams and wishes is that they stay that way, dreams and wishes. James Logain learned that the hard way... In Nigeria."

   "The world has a way of winding up and kicking you in the balls so hard that your hopes and dreams go flying out your ears, to hit the floor and shatter. That's just how it is, because reality is? No one give a flying s*** about you, if you survive or not, if you're still human or not, if you're an excellent soldier or not, or how many people you save. I think that's what drove me even more to become a pilot, to fly... up there, in the big blue, there is no one to be bothered by, no one to try to drag you down, no one to ruin your dreams. Up there in the big blue, you are truly free."

   Jax nodded before he took a drink of the 'Pandoran Sunrise' that he had taken a liking too and continued, "I was top graduate out of my Company in Boot. Best of the F***ing Best. Period. My transfer and recommendations for flight school couldn't have gone though faster if it had been lubed up and fired out of a MAG-Cannon."

   "My dad was proud, as much as any father would be for his boy to become a soldier, and I was just glad to be able to fly."

   Jax took a breath and continued, "Master Gunnery Sergeant Rush was my flight instructor, and he taught me everything I need to know to be an excellent marine, and a perfect flight pilot. How to fight and fly on the go, how to know how your bird is doing without watching anything... instinct. He didn't give me it, but he showed me how to use it, how to tune it in."

   "When they told me that I was flying Medivac in Nigeria, I was almost moved to tears in joy. I was going to be able to do what I wanted when I was a child; I was going to go save lives! I didn't want to be a hero... I just wanted to be able to take our people home, to help them get fixed up so they can continue to protect and serve."

   Jax snorted. "James Logain was a silly boy, with a lot of dreams. It was about that time that James Logain became known as 'Jax', for reasons still unknown to him. Major Gunny Rush never explained, and he died before Jax could find out. He went out to war, with training, determination, and a SA-2 designated 'Scythe' on his side."

   Jax's voice lowered as he moved into the next part of his story. "Jax went into his first mission, raring to go. He had a full tank of gas and a full set of weapons, two door-gunners and two medics. He was going to go in and save two lives. A young female marine by the name of Sara Maria, and an older army soldier, a man by the name of Ryan Andrews. They had been downed on the frontlines and needed emergency Medical Evacuation, ASAP."

   "Jax flew in low and fast, his Door-gunners unloading down range to fend off a swarm of Nigerian Soldiers who were trying to down Scythe as the medical team got Sara and Ryan into the SA-2."
   
"It had gone well... the medical team had them inside, and Jax was pulling away without any damage taken to Scythe or his crew. His first medical run was going perfectly."

   Jax's voice dropped to a monotone. "Jax didn't know about the sniper, nor did his crew."

   "It was loud, the blast from the sniper rifle. Jax heard it over the sound of his rotor. He looked over his shoulder to see what had happened, and saw blood all over the interior of Scythe."

   "Ryan was dead. A perfect circle sitting out the side of his head as he slumped down."

   Jax's voice shuttered a bit as he continued on. "He could have done something... I could have done something... to save them, taken evasive maneuvers, or something... but I didn't. I was shocked. Locked up. I screwed the pooch."

   "Sara was next, a round though the heart. I yanked hard on the yoke, and got the hell out as fast as possible. One of the medics took a round to the leg and had to be pulled out."

   "It was a complete and total failure. I had screwed up my first mission, and I was sure that I would never be sent out again."

   Jax takes another drink before continuing, his voice low. "But they did. They sent me back out, again and again. Each time, I went in guns blazing, taking out everyone that dared get close, and those that didn't... and each time, I was never able to get anyone home."

   Jax shook his head, "Jax was soon known as 'The Reaper of Medical 1717', Scythe marked up with a body count of how many I had failed to save. I was a joke... but they still sent me out. I was killing, taking out soldiers by the tens and twenties in my quest to save someone, anyone, just once."

   "But I never saved anyone. No one but myself."

   Jax closed his eyes. "One Hundred and Twenty-Five flight missions... not one rescue. Two hundred and fifteen confirmed kills between me and my gunners and who knows how many more that are still uncounted, even to this day. Lives that in the end... didn't even matter, not to me, not to my gunners, not to my general, just dead bodies to be burned or buried and mourned by the mother or father of that son or daughter. My final flight mission, I was shot down by a RPG-11. My crew... killed, the medics, burned to ashes, the people I tried to save... dead."

   Jax took a shuttering breath as he thought back to the day, the fire in the cabin of his SA-2. "The RPG lit up Scythe, turning it into a major inferno as I pulled myself out, clawing for every inch."

   Jax laughed bitterly. "The devils luck. That's what they called it in the end. There had been a sniper up on the hill, just by where I crashed. He zoomed in on me, and pulled the trigger as I brought my hand up to try to call for help. My Aviator's watch saved me, the bullet breaking it but preventing it from killing me. I went down completely, knowing I was shot at."

   Jax slams the rest of his drink. "Saving myself... that's all I could do. The Reaper of Medical 1717, the sick bastard that can walk into any warzone and walk out with nothing but a scratch... and a trail of bodies in his wake"

   Jax took two steps, jumping off of the steel table and looking around the bar, as Esme and Arik, and at every one of the soldiers. "In the end, it doesn't matter that I survived, or what happened out there, for the same powers-be-damned reason that I'm out here now: No one gives a s***, money rules all, and one other simple, basic fact."

   Jax puts the mug on the bar and walks away, heading for bed and another night of nothing but nightmares, death, and destruction.

   "War Never Changes."

[Atanä mungeyu]

wow, this is really nice..
great story again!
eywa ayngahu,
unilyu