"As far back as anyone can remember in my family, once a male child has reached the age of 5, they have received training in all forms of combat. Unarmed, armed, ranged, military strategy, general leadership skills, and whatever else might be needed for a warrior. At age 12, the formal training ceases, as a male child is at that point considered a man. At least in the ancient Norse society.

My grandfather took this very seriously, so I and my brothers were all subjected to extensive training. without our knowledge, he was training us, not only as individuals but to work together as one of the most effective commando squads the Terran government has ever had under their command. They augmented our squad strength with a few select soldiers, handpicked by my grandfather. For many many years, I believed this to be a happy coincidence, but in recent times, I have come to realize that this was all planned out years in advance, well before my eldest brother was old enough to begin training.

Being the youngest, I was the last to join the squad, so I missed out on a lot of things during earlier wars, but during the war between the Plyxii and Terra, I had become an integrated part of the squad. In that war, I got a chance to make use of the skills, for which I had suffered and bled so much.

And I was good. I was really good. With my brothers backing me up, I soon became squad leader despite my young age. We felt all but invincible. No matter the danger, no matter the odds, we always made it back home, a successful mission in the bag. A total of 74 individual missions just in the time I was part of the squad, all of them successful, mind you."

Eirik was talking himself warm, the copious amounts of alcohol he had consumed helped loosen his tongue and remove the inhibitions that normally kept a lid on all of this.

"Every mission we pulled off only served to catapult our skills in dealing death. We became faster, deadlier, more ruthless. All in all, we became a group of extremely unpleasant individuals to have pitted against you."

"Then, one day, granddad tells us he got intel on some of the Plyxii leaders meeting in secret on a planet with only a skeleton crew of soldiers protecting it. We all voiced out protests, that so far into the war, no planet housing one of the Plyxii leaders, no matter how short a time it may be, would not only have a skeleton crew. Our protests fell on deaf ears and granddad insisted we take the chance to eliminate a portion of the Plyxii command structure.

So we prepared ourselves. We laid our plans for the raid, came up with the solution of bringing down the whole damn building around their ears using explosives placed in key locations, and planned out the escape route. At the designated time we left our home base and headed to the target planet. We managed to infiltrate the planet with little issue, posing as smugglers needing a place to lay low for a little while. For weeks we prepared the strike, made every conceivable contingency plan we could think of, and prodded the local population for information at the bars by being generous with drink and losing in gambling.

Finally, the military transport carrying the leaders arrived and to our ecstatic surprise, it was not just a few of the leaders. It was every single Plyxii leader currently alive, including the Grand Burrower, the spiritual leader of the Plyxii."

"I remember that raid!! It is mandatory reading in every military academy in the universe. It is the single best piece of evidence that a truly determined group of soldiers can achieve anything!! THAT WAS YOU!?!??" Las'tai interjected

Eirik looked annoyed as he was pulled out of the storyteller role. "Yes, Las'Tai, that was my brothers and me. May I continue??"

"Sorry Eirik, it's just... Every young Kloxna recruit has studied that raid and dreams of one day pulling off something as great as that." Las'Tai was annoyed at herself for interrupting Eirik. She could feel he was about to share something truly personal and hidden about himself, and she had to go and fawn over him because of the military exploits of his past.

"Then every young Kloxna is a clueless fucking idiot!" Eirik's voice had become hard and left no room for disagreement. "I left 4 brothers on that planet to secure that raid!! 4 brothers I will never get to see again!! If I could, I would gladly have lost the war if it meant keeping them alive!!"

Breathing deeply, Eirik brought himself back under control. "As I said, the entirety of the Plyxii command structure AND their spiritual leader that arrived. Knowing we would never get a chance like this ever again, we went to the hideout to get ready for the strike. We called back some of our outlying sentries to support us. This, as it turned out, was the only reason we made it off the planet alive at all.

It was a trap. We had been betrayed by one of our own. Every step of the way, from the *intel* our grandfather received, to all the leaders being gathered, had been nothing but bait to lure us in. And we took that bait like the fools we were. The only reason we were successful at all was that the Plyxii leaders had bet on us storming the building, guns drawn. They never expected us to bomb the whole fucking place though. 50 pounds of C4 plastic explosive placed at strategic locations around the building made for a spectacular death for those inside.

The ambush hit us moments after we pushed the detonator. The 3 sentries I had pulled back to support us were down before we knew what was happening. During the fighting retreat, was when Peter disappeared beneath a wave Plyxii infantry."

Eirik took up one of the pictures, showing a young man with a striking resemblance to Eirik smiling broadly at the camera. "He died with honor, in battle, as one should." putting it back down he picked up another picture, showing a slightly older male, short brown hair, and a serious expression on his face.

"After we escaped the city and made our way towards the woods that would take us to the extraction point, Mads caught a shot in the leg. We all knew he would not be able to keep up, but before we could say or do anything, he told us to keep running and started limping off to the side, shooting at our pursuers. We never knew what happened, only that the sounds of his weapon firing stopped less than a minute later."

Putting the picture back down he took the last 2 pictures from the table. 2 young men, so identical you could not tell one from the other, laughed at the respective cameras. "Matthias and Jonas. They charged the pursuing Plyxii together to buy the pilot time to get the rest of us off the ground again. we were all out of ammo at that point and all they had, were their axes to attack with, and the back of each other to protect them. They were still fighting by the time we lost sight of them."

For a long moment, Eirik just sat and stared at the pictures. Las'Tai was to comprehend the story she had been told. Losing a family member was difficult, especially during wartime, but to lose 4 family members within the same day, mere hours in between, and come out on the other side with the psyche still somewhat intact was a tremendous testament to the adaptability and strength of the Terran mind. She had never heard of anyone going through something like that and being able to function in regular society afterward.

A loud sniffle from Eirik broke her train of thought. "Do you know what granddad called me and my surviving brother when we returned??" Eirik's voice was hoarse and raspy, the voice of a broken man.

"No, Eirik," Las'Tai answered.

"He called us heroes. Said we had done a great thing. That we have served Terra well. But all I could think about was my dead brothers. Their last smiles as they left for certain death to make sure we could get home. The oldest and the youngest." Las'Tai noticed the drops falling from Eiriks cheeks unto the pictures in his hands.

"When I told granddad it had been a trap, he brushed it off as simply faulty intel. That was the moment I decided, if that is how it feels to be the hero, then I am not interested. I wanted out. I wanted to be left alone to do my own thing, protect my family and loved ones like I failed to protect them during that last mission. I was the squad leader. If anyone should have stayed behind, it should have been me. "

Putting the pictures back on the table, Eirik turned to Las'Tai and looked her in the eyes. "Now you know my sadness. Let me explain the rage, as it is connected to the betrayer. I found out we were betrayed on my own. Mostly by discovering that said betrayer had abandoned ship during our mission, after killing 2 guards watching the hangar. His name is Dalle, and HE is the reason I had to watch my brothers die. One of the handpicked men from my grandfather's screening had been tempted by an offer of a vast amount of money. He changed sides that day, leaving us to die as a parting gift.

I have sworn a blood oath to kill this man with my own hands before I die. Until that moment, my rage is here to stay."

Eirik stood up and wobbled over to the table with the barrel. "Now, I am going to get as drunk as Odin during a feast and remember. I suggest you return to the cavern." Lifting the half-empty barrel, not bothering with the horn any longer, he abandoned the idea and called out to Las'Tai who had turned back towards the cavern. "Las'Tai, I think it goes without saying that the words we have exchanged here tonight, stay between the 2 of us. If they don't, I WILL kill you. Gods be damned."

Pressing a button on the speaker a guitar started playing and Eirik lifted the small barrel to his mouth and drank deeply.

As Las'Tai left him behind she could hear the singing from the speaker.

You can run on for a long time.

run on for a long time

run on for a long time

sooner or later God'll cut you down

sooner or later God'll cut you down.