THE TITAN LEAD

Prologue (I)

The Far Future. 412 Interstellar Era. The Colonial Planet Of Parnaxxus.

Death. A powerful word. An inevitable act which gets played until the only remains of the being left are its ashes, its crumbling decaying body, memories, or the consequences of its past actions. Death, which strikes fear in even the bravest of the hearts at times and somber even the sourest of the personalities.

But it's not you who is dead. Not yet. It's Trysha Corson. Once a hot-headed pilot showing a lot of potential and undying love for her Mother-World. Now reduced to fragments, covered by the RDC Flag.

The afternoon sun is hidden behind the thick curtain of clouds. There is not a single sound of ambience by nature. The bugles are sounded, respects are paid, and tears are shed. But just like the drizzle of rain which gets soaked in the moist Earth, you drink up your tears, and forbid them to flow. Repressing and hiding the pain inside. She wouldn't have wanted you to cry. She wouldn't have wanted her death to be in vain. Hers, and every other brave son and daughter of the resistance who valiantly gave up their lives for the cause they believed in. For the cause they took a stand for. In hopes of winning and getting avenged.

Even the chirping of the birds has ceased. There is something in the winds which howls and moans the tremendous loss of life. Certain desperation to it there is. The skies are darkened; the mood is quiet and somber. The only voices that could be heard are the sobbing of those who lost their wives, their husbands, a friend, a child. You never could have known things would have changed so drastically in just a week.

Could You?

A week prior to the Resistance Funeral Ceremony.The Colonial Planet Of Parnaxxus

"No, but I don't really get it! Even with that entire advanced tech Armature you ride into battle with, and the safety features that accompany it, there is still a lot of applied strain on your body! I have done the math! And the speeds at which you move near the orbits and space, I don't know how you manage it" you say to your sister, as you walk with her to the designated V-Toll pick up point.

"Well, it's a good thing that the potent cocktail responsible for firing up the senses is an R&D secret. God knows what would have happened if a junkie like you got your hands on it!" quips back your sister, while playfully nudging you on the ribs.

"Well. I can't say anything for sure. But I can say with a lot of positivity, that nothing is as potent as my Bear Hugs!" you beam back.

"That sounds so, well, bad."

You are not amused.

"Sheesh, little brother! I love it when I mess with you!" says your sister, as she comes to a standstill before the V-Toll waiting for her arrival. She opens up her arms, expectantly.

You, of course, don't need further motivation.

Both of you wrap each other in an enormous hug, neither of the two willing to back down, or willing to let go. Eventually, your sister lets go, but puts both her hands on your shoulder.

"I expect you to behave responsibly, and not do anything stupid in my absence. Do you comply, soldier?" says your sister, fixing upon you a mockingly stern gaze.

"Aye Aye Captain!" you quip back, with that faint pirate's lisp, an idiotic grin on your face, and an equally mock salute. "Slap my ass and call me Captain Bushy Beard."

"More like Captain Balding Head, if you ask me." chuckles out your sister. She then looks at you intently, with her warm brown eyes. With the same kind of fondness, and tenderness, a parent looks over their child with.

V-Toll will be departing in T-Minus 2 minutes. Please get ready. The automated and very unharmonious voice booms out loud from the single seated air carrier.

"Honestly, centuries of evolution of human technology; we are fighting space battles, travelling faster than light, are on the brink of managing to open and close worm holes on will, and yet we couldn't give this carrier a pleasant voice." you say with an audible groan.

"Well, centuries of evolution, and we still have people like you." The wit of your sister always ready to crack a joke, at your expense of course.

Before you can retort, however, she cups your cheeks, and kisses your forehead, with the same care and genuine love she used to since you were nothing but a babe in the arms.

"I will miss you, Teeril."

"I won't miss you, however, Trysha. Because I know you will dominate out there. Make those Impies regret standing against us. And you will be back even before I know it. I love you. More than anything."

"I love you too my dear brother." says Trysha, her voice almost on the verge of cracking.

V-Toll will be departing in T-Minus 1 minute. Please get ready. The automated and very unharmonious voice booms out loud from the single seated air carrier, once again.

Trysha playfully ruffles your hair, gives you one final hug, and steps inside the V-Toll.

You jokingly swerve your arms, and give her a taut salute before breaking into a grin.

She smiles back, through the glass dome she is now enclosed in. You take a step back, as the rotors of the V-Toll start up with a guttural noise. She presses her palm against the glass dome, and you raise yours too.

"WHERE IS YOUR PACKAGE BY THE WAY?" you shout to make yourself heard above the engine.

"ALL I PACKED WAS A TOOTHBRUSH! BESIDES, I'M THE TOTAL PACKAGE ITSELF!" your sister says, followed by her classic goofy wink.

You shake your head in amusement, and watch her fly away. You could swear you have a single tear drop falling down your left eye.

Who could have known this was the last you were seeing of her. Yes, every time could have been her last. But you refused to believe so. Who would have thought that it was the last time you had been in her embrace?

That it was the last time you had felt her touch, the last time you had stared into her mesmerizing brown eyes, the last time you had heard her voice. The last time you had smelled her fragrance, the last time you had got her hair in your mouth, while hugging her.

The last time you shared your love with her.