Author's note: The summary you saw is a favorite saying of an English professor I had a while back, and it's true. There are so many things that you don't see go on in zoids, or what you see at times is just a small window. Plus, it applies to just about any story. This is just a small one-shot to show another point of view. The time and place are objective, any time during the war within Imperial boundariesis all that's needed. I don't own zoids, I only own Reed Kouts, and Gerald Fisher. Thank you for taking the time out to read this little ficlet, and please review.
Tuesday, Day 14 of Mission 28
We're still reeling from that near defeat three days ago, and approximately half of our zoids are still in need of drastic repairs. Earlier, I thought I heard the major say that we lost 30 men to that skirmish, but no one will really know the numbers until word from the infirmary gets back to us, as there were probably others that died after reaching the building. I myself have been fairly busy helping out, and this is the first time I've had the chance to take this time to write out what happened in my journal.
Those sly Republicans think they're so much better than the Empire, though they just got lucky. We hadn't counted on them occupying an abandoned Imperial base, as many of our units use it to get their bearings and take shelter if the weather gets bad. In our case, we were going to meet with another group to get re-supplied. As far as I know, no one was aware that there were even Republican troops in the area. There should have been only deserters or bandits hiding out at best, so the major had calculated that if that had been the case, we would have enough ammunition and other supplies to take care of them. However, as I said before, we were attacked by Republican soldiers. The unit I'm in was the first one assaulted, with the others following shortly after that.
I've been saying this a lot lately, and that day truly proved it. When you're being recruited for the military, you only get a small part of the story. You hear of the glory that comes with defending the Empire, and the heroic ventures of many men that are probably long dead by now. I've determined they're merely lies that lead you in. Either that, or rare exceptions. There is no glory to be had like this. The military doesn't care about the little guys like me and the boys in my unit. Even the major isn't that well known to the brass. If we're lucky enough to be complete enough when we die to come back in body bags, the brass won't even blink, and instead send out more suckers to die. And that day, many of us did die. Those that didn't learned what true fear was.
The Republicans that were in that base were fully supplied, and well trained. Which, to be in our territory like that, they would have to be. It wasn't a fluke that they were out there. Gerald Fisher, a no-name enlisted boy like me was a good buddy of mine. He was a good kid for the most part, but just needed a little more discipline. Heck, he was practically the little brother I never had - nor wanted. But it doesn't matter now. His Molga was torn to pieces by the bombarding he received from those Command Wolves. He foolishly charged ahead more than he should've, still within orders, but more than logic would state. Fisher had told me before that he wanted to make a name for himself, for his family. But now, all that his family is going to get is a letter. We couldn't get his body out of the Molga before it was burned beyond all recognition. I know because once we did defeat that Command Wolf unit, I was sent with the unit medics out to help those we could.
You see, I'm technically a pilot, but at the same time I have very good training in those sorts of situations. Before I was abruptly drafted, I was in college, working towards a doctrine. I wanted to do something to save lives, and I was just about to take my last semester when I had to leave. The irony of the situation is that now I'm instead taking lives to preserve mine, and those of my companions. Though, I still get satisfaction from saving the others when they're wounded. Maybe there will be an end to this war, and then I'll be able to finish college and live the way I want to. Oh look, here I again, ranting on and on. Nothing I say will change that we're at war and that this unit has suffered. I'm going again to check on the others. Until next time.
Reed Kouts put his journal up and reclined back in his chair, reflecting more on what had happened. He couldn't change his current situation. The only thing he could was what every other soldier was currently trying to do - which was to live through the this war and otherwise make the best of it. He didn't agree with the war at all, but he did believe in living through it, and this was kill or be killed. Finally, the exhausted soldier stood up and walked out of the room.