This story contains mentions and descriptions of warfare. Please take caution if you are sensitive to this.
Suggested Listening - The Mission Begins by Michael KamenThe clouds in the sky on that fateful day were as heavy as the lead weight in the young man's chest as he opened the small envelope. His eyes filled with trepidation upon reading the words, written without a shred of sympathy, that were printed on the page.
Mr. Vayehn Lievi,
You have been selected for compulsory military service as per the Imperial Conscription Act for as long as needed. Report to your nearest enlistment office no earlier than March 12th. Failure to do so will result in subsequent arrest and indefinite detainment.
The Imperial Draft Bureau
Of course, the young man knew this was always a possibility; all able-bodied individuals over the age of seventeen living within Imperial territory were eligible for the draft. However, it always seemed to be one of those things to always happen to somebody else. This time, it wasn't.
And just like that, Vayehn Lievi's life as a civilian ended.
The fearless are merely fearless. People who act in spite of their fear are truly brave."
― James A. LaFond-Lewis
→ Name: Vayehn Lievi
→ Alias: Vaye
→ Rank: Corporal
→ Nationality: Imperial
→ Fur: White and pink
→ Eyes:Pale yellow
→ Height: 5 feet 7 inches
→ Species: Acara
→ Brush: Robot
→ Gender: Male
→ Age: 24
→ Intelligence: Slightly above average.
→ Personality Type: ISTJ
→ Alignment: Neutral Good
+ Resilient; Vaye's psychological resilience is easily one of his best traits. He refuses to give up, no matter how bad things get for him and is able to recover from acute episodes of panic relatively quickly.
+ Compassionate; Vaye cares deeply for others, which is one of the reasons he is so negatively impacted by war and strife. He will go out of his way to assist others, especially so if they are upset.
+ Persuasive; Vaye is a surprisingly good leader, which stems mostly from his ability to persuade others. He is a concise and logical speaker, and prefers to get others to compromise as opposed to getting them to obey.
+ Organized; Keeping things tidy is very important to Vaye. A well-organized space calms him, and he will clean up messes if left alone with them.
+- Emotional; Vaye feels emotions--both positive and negative--intensely. Obviously, this tends to either have very good or very bad outcomes.
+- Cautious; Though Vaye is by no means a coward, he is not a risk taker either. His wary nature comes in handy when avoiding potential panic attacks, but not so much when it comes to trying new things.
- Paranoid; As much as Vaye hates to admit it, he is still affected by his wartime trauma, and will suffer from occasional intense panic attacks if exposed to something that reminds him too much of his time in combat. There is nothing he hates more than experiencing these attacks, and is always fearful that one will happen despite all the effort he goes through to prevent them.
- Shy; Vaye is friendly, yet introverted. It takes a while for him to trust others and prefers not to speak much even when he's comfortable with someone.
- Critical; Picky about many things, Vaye likes things done in very certain ways and will speak up if something seems 'out of order'. He is often guilty of judging others by their mannerisms or cleanliness.
Vaye and his former drill sergeant, Zero, are surprisingly best friends despite their very-obvious differences. Vaye views Zero as almost a brother. Vaye is also incredibly close to Cliff, who other than Vaye, was the only one of Vaye's squad who survived.
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Suggested Listening - Anthem by VNV NationThe bugle blared at 0500 hours.
Vaye was unsure if he could even remember the last time he had a full night's sleep. His mind and body were numb with exhaustion, yet this was merely the third week of a two-month-long gauntlet designed to separate the strong from the frail. He groggily dragged himself out of bed, not at all wanting to face the sergeant's wrath this early in the morning. After an incredibly quick shower, Vaye made sure his uniform was in order; he didn't see the point of appearing immaculate for uniform inspection if he was only going to be run into the dirt a mere minutes afterwards, but it was always best to stay on the sergeant's good side.
Run faster, the lot of you! We've only got five miles down, weaklings, and we've got five miles to go! I don't want to hear any more complaining, do you understand?!?
A chorus of enthusiastic-yet-pained cries of SIR, YES SIR came in response to the sergeant's unimpressed barking. A strong, imposing man, the sergeant had no problem running and insulting for extended periods of time. The cadets, however, were completely exhausted. Trailing slightly behind the rest of the pack was Vaye, considerably less fit than the others, but no less determined to succeed. His breaths were sharp and wounded as his feet, practically numb at this point, pounded against the dirt path.
Only five more miles, halfway there, Vaye, you can do this Vaye, he panted between inhalations. He noticed himself feeling lightheaded. You can do this, you can do this, you ca--
Vaye awoke hazily, finding himself laying face down in the dirt with a drill sergeant shouting his surname in his ear. The other cadets kept their distance. A few snickered. Most just watched in silence.
BACK ON YOUR FEET, LIEVI! You think this is a summer camp? You think you get a NAP TIME, huh, Lievi? Do you?!? The sergeant's words felt like knives to the already-embarrassed man. Vaye shakily attempted a few times to hoist himself off the ground to little avail. On his fourth attempt, he managed to get himself upright, but his entire body screamed from both his injuries and his exertion.
Sir it was...it was all so sudden, sir he tried to explain, still flustered. My legs, they just gave out, you see. One moment I was running and the next I just... The sergeant kept glaring at Vaye, clearly not moved by any of his pleas for pity.
You're holding everyone else up with this. Either get back to running or become a defector. Your choice, Lievi.
Vaye nodded in affirmation, just barely squeaking out a yes, Sgt. Zero before returning to the long, grueling road ahead.
You can do this....
....You can do this.
Suggested Listening - Dein Ende by And OneThe Empire is a militaristic interplanetary society located in the Andromeda Galaxy. It is well-known and well-feared in its galactic sector as an overwhelming juggernaut of relentless expansion and iron-fisted rule. It is governed by a sole leader (currently Commander 2003).
The Empire's leadership structure and strict policies have long been established. While outsiders regard the Empire as a nation gripped by tyranny, those who live within its borders are oblivious to any corruption and tend to be overwhelmingly patriotic and nationalistic despite their relative lack of personal freedoms. All commerce and production, as well as the media, is controlled by Imperial officials. As a culture, the Empire values strength, obedience, loyalty, order, and efficiency above all other things.
Obviously, the military is an important and ever-present entity in Imperial operations and daily life. Though enlistment is not mandatory, all Imperial citizens over the age of seventeen that have passed a physical exam are required to enter into a draft database. Though a good number of soldiers are picked from the draft, many others are volunteers who wish to be known as "heroes" in their communities and by the Empire itself. Most wars the Empire fights are either wars of expansion or colonial uprisings. It is rare that other nations or jurisdictions would initiate war with the Empire.
The Imperial military has a number of branches, each suited to a certain type of warfare. The largest of these branches, the Grand Imperial Army, is the primary force that is sent to fight terrestrial wars. The training process in the Imperial Army is an intense two-month course, which is known as one of the most brutal in the galaxy, rendering most individuals who make it through completely prepared for battle. Its rank setup is similar to most military rankings on Earth, though cadets are not technically given the rank of private until after graduating basic training, as opposed to being given the rank upon entering. Also, rank some titles differ from what many consider the standard. For example, generals are designated by classes as opposed to separate names for each level. The system goes as follows:
- Private First Class
- Lance Corporal
- Command Sergeant
- Grand Imperial Sergeant (Senior Enlisted officer)
- Lt. Colonel
- Third-Class General
- Second-Class General
- First-Class General
- Supreme Commander of the Empire
(In charge of both military and legislative rule)
The Imperial military is not driven by custom and tradition but rather by regulations and effectiveness. Loving nicknames for battalions, companies, and units are not officially recognized, but the soldiers who serve tend to develop pride in their battalion/unit/company designation numbers.
Suggested Listening - Saviour by VNV NationVaye hadn't slept in three days.
Three days of near constant shelling from the enemy left no time to rest; all had to be vigilant until an opening to retaliate presented itself. Huddled in a foxhole with three other Imperial soldiers, Vaye constantly felt an overwhelming sense of dread that took over his body with near constant tremors. The men were running low on food, ammo, and most importantly, morale.
The surroundings soon grew silent. One of the soldiers, Cpl. Clifford Steel, sighed with relief. The other two, Pfc's by the names of Jorgenson and Richardt watched from the foxhole with unease. Vaye was in the corner, checking the supply. After one long, tense minute, Steel whispered I think the enemy's gettin' tired.
A sardonic chortle came from Richardt in reply. Not as tired as us, I'd bet, the man grumbled. Both Jorgensen and Vaye nodded. Immediately, the silent tension returned.
Half an hour passed, with not a shot fired by either side. Vaye's stomach was reeling. Adjusting his oversized helmet, he moved from the corner to peek out from over the edge. Still no sign of movement he said to Steel, who then signaled to Jorgenson and Richardt to ready their weaponry. Steel was to serve as a lookout. Vaye went back to the corner of the small shelter. All eyes were on the two-man fireteam. One ill-fired shot, and all chaos would break loose again.
The harsh, blasting ratatatatatatatatat reverberated through the tiny foxhole, ringing in Vaye's ears as he continuously passed ammo up to Richardt and Jorgenson.
Did we get 'em?
Dunno Richardt, keep firin!
See anything, Cpl. Steel?
Not a darned clue, Richardt!
Lievi, we need more ammo here!
You sure you got one, I saw that guy moving just now!
JORGENSON, RICHARDT, GET BACK DOWN!!
There was a sudden flash, and then screaming...
A sudden look of concerned panic struck the usually-stoic Cpl. Steel's face as he radioed for a medic. Richardt was propped up against the shelter wall, grimacing in pain. Jorgenson was on the ground, barely moving.
Vaye, somewhat lacerated by shrapnel but otherwise physically unharmed, stared at the injured men in absolute horror. His face began to contort and tears began to stream from his eyes. He tried to speak, but his words were just a mess of stuttered consonants. Steel shouted through the radio.
We have to get these guys out of here, ASAP. No, I don't care about that! Get me the nearest medic!
The world around Vaye began to blur. The sights and sounds of everything melded together into an overwhelming mass of sensory input. All he could comprehend was the terror he felt. He could barely make out Cpl. Steel's words from the rest of it all.
You'll be all right, Lievi.
The evacuation team will be here soon.
The two remained huddled...right next to the fallen Jorgenson and Richardt...until the choppers arrived
Suggested Listening - Colors of Rain by VNV Nationuhhhhhh
hover to see who drew.