"And you're sure you want to go?" The soft voice called out from the back of the hanger. "You're sure you want to leave all this behind, forever?" The last word stung. Wing had hoped he wouldn't grow attached to the small colony world nestled on the far side of the Dark Worlds System. Light years from Sor, from the pain of the last six months. From the ruined Seed and Oblivionite encampments and the bodies of those who joined him in attacking them, but would never leave.
Wing had crash landed on this small simple world, and more than once fought off scouting parties, but they increased in frequency and troop counts. Wing was now a liability, he refused to be the end of the colony. Yet, if he left, who would stop Oblivion from taking over? He simply shook his head, running though the diagnostics of the small fighter he'd managed to piece back together since crashing. Seemed to be his story, leave one world, crash on another, then leave that one, only to crash on yet another. Each with their own challenges, people and stories, and somehow he never felt part of any of them. No matter how long he remained in one place. However something was different this time. War surrounded him, and he'd yet to find a reason to keep going. A reason of his own anyway. He fought for ideals, never sure if he was the one in the right anymore. These people seemed to think so, but what would happen if Oblivion or Seed did take over? With no one resisting, would harm really come to these people? Would Seed or Oblivion actually improve their lives? What if it was due to his actions, that Wing was keeping these people from reaching their potential.
The thoughts manifested themselves into twilight, ruining the small datapad in his hand. He tossed it aside without so much as a second thought, and pushed pulled his goggles off his eyes let them rest around his neck. "I know you can hear me, son."
Klaus, the kindly old man who had taken him in, provided him with food and shelter. His wife, Rena followed a few steps behind, a basket in her hand full of breads and salted meats. "I won't try and stop ya, but I will ask you to reconsider. You can make a life here, son. You can make a difference. Now, I know it won't be as big as saving the universe, but it'll be big here. That's what matters, Wing. The small differences. Looking at the big picture all the time will never bring you true happiness."
"He is right you know." Wing looked up to see Roland, a young man from the village, and a trusted ally. He'd helped Wing push back Oblivion's men on more than one occasion. Wing was grateful that Roland wasn't around during all those failed covert operations. He wouldn't have been able to live with himself if Roland had remained on a far off world forever. "Of course he's right!" Wing aid with a soft smile, turing to face Klaus. "He's not been wrong since I've been here, and I thank him for it. I thank him for every second he stayed up talking with me, and for taking me in." Wing looked down at his black boots, caked in the mud of so many far away worlds. Klaus looked on with a proud smile, "It's because he's always right, that I have to go. I have to find my 'small picture' I've lost the will to fight, but I must keep fighting. I have friends out there who will getting into more trouble than we've ever been in before, and another friend I still have to rescue." Wing could barely meet Klaus and Rena's eyes. They wore proud smiles, but their eyes showed such pain.
"When this is all over, and you're sure you're friends are safe, please come back here my boy. You are always welcome. You will always have a home here." Klaus then embraced Wing, while Rena placed the basket of food into the cockpit of the fighter. He hugged her tight, thanking her for everything, before shaking Roland's hand. "If you need a partner man, you know where I'll be!" Roland was always up for an adventure, but Wing knew he wouldn't leave his home. "You bet, take care of them, I know you'll give anyone hell that tries to take this place!" Roland nodded confidently as Wing boarded the craft.
The engines hummed to life while Roland and Klaus opened the hanger doors, Wing eased on the throttle, taxiing the craft onto the makeshift runway. With one last salute, Wing punched the throttle, and pulled back on the stick, reaching escape velocity only seconds after he was airborne. Just like that he was among the stars again, and another world rest behind him, utterly small in the grand scheme of things. He felt the familiar chill of being alone in space, and set a course for the rendezvous point he and Tera Roth had planned to meet at. It was time to find Darius,