rate M for strong language, drugs/alcohol, violence and sexual situations
He remembered the argument with his mother, now that he was sitting on the ship waiting. Cynthia Coran had walked into the living room to see her son lounging out the couch. He had been home three weeks. Three weeks since he was given his papers and kicked out of the military for punching an officer who couldn't lead his way out of a paper bag. And she was in full agreement with her son. She hated men who were cocky without the skills to back them up. Originally she thought her husband was like that but Jared proved time and again he could back up his talk. She was glad her son took more after her though, in terms of career. An Ace. An expert pilot. Cynthia was sure he would have ended up becoming the youngest to have made Admiral had events played out differently.
But instead he was crashing on the couch for three weeks, refusing to move on. Michael went out at night, drinking in all manner of bars and clubs. Got into fights. He came home smelling of booze and covered in bruises. It only made her worry. They fought constantly. Cynthia would lay into him from the second he was awake. Michael was no help, always had a comment to say back which would set his mother off about his attitude and what a troublesome child he had been and how his mouth kept causing him problems. Things changed though. Four days ago, after a nasty row with his mother, he received a phone call. General Eiling. The Council of Generals had elected to overturn the Fleet Admiral's decision and reinstate him. His mother was elated which made him happy.
Michael loved his family. One of the reasons he started drinking was seeing his mom upset. But that only lead to constant arguments which kept feeding his depression. So seeing her all smiles again made him feel better. He cut back on the drinking, now he drank like an average mid-twenty year old in the military was supposed to. And like a good soldier he reported to base like General Eiling instructed for a top secret mission. To pick up the Yoran Princess and deliver her safely to the capital city on Arturia for her royal engagement to Prince Casius. So now here he was, laying in the back of a X-105 Cargo Transporter. A piece of junk of a ship. And one of the older models too. There was a small flight deck up front where he'd pilot, a few chairs for others to sit and monitor stations. The middle of the ship through a door was the crew quarters and through another door was the cargo bay, where he was sleeping. It was a low-key mission. A lack luster ship no one would bother with.
"Wake up Coran." Someone kicked the side of the bench he was laying on. Michael recognized the voice immediately.
Michael stood up and saluted. "General Eiling sir!" Normally Michael was much more relaxed in front of officers but he just got reinstated and didn't want to run the risk. The General was a grizzled veteran. Face scars and an eyepatch over his left eye, thick beard. Normally Eiling was in combat armor, ready at a moments notice. Not this time though. He was here in an official uniform, hat tucked under his arm. The General was here to oversee the Princess' safe departure and act as an ambassador.
"At ease." Eiling rubbed his beard. "Just wanted to let you know the Princess is here with her entourage. Straighten your flight suit out." Michael did as instructed, making sure his uniform was in proper condition, running a hand through his dark hair to straighten it out, before he joined the General outside the ship, standing perfectly straight as he awaited the arrival of the Princess.