Chapter Text
[Montara Luna weathered the Reaper war better than most colonies. Freestar claimed it to be due to the resilience of its citizens, but with the devastation Akila faced, it seems more due to luck. Captain Walker, better known as the Butcher of Torfan claimed this abandoned farm after the war and has been working on it for the past 10 years.]
Captain Walker: If there's one thing you learn growing up Freestar, it's self-reliance. Sure, you have the militia and the rangers sometimes, but it might not be enough. They might not get there till after the Crimson Fleet has already killed your family. You always need to be ready. My parents took those lessons to heart when they moved to Shanxi with the first wave of settlers after LIST was done with it. I was born a few days later. When I was six, I got my first lesson in self-defense from my grandfather. Both he and my old man were colony war vets, but he was part of the First Cavalry, he barely made it out of those trials with his freedom. He was always a bit crazy with training his kids and grandkids, but I guess it paid off in the end.
Thompson: How old were you when the war began in earnest?
I was 7 at the time, didn’t even know it was a war in the beginning. The first sign was the lack of supply ships and the loss of comms. Both were easily explained, comms go out all the time for homesteaders and pirate activity had delayed cargo many times in the past. It wasn’t till a few days after the birds touched down on our soil when we really learned what was happening. The 23rd Militia Company went full retreat through our town, they stopped for the night and caught us up on the news. He treated them like heroes and let them stay for the night. Then the trouble followed.
And what do you mean by trouble?
The fucking turians, who else? Birds followed them and attacked, and they didn’t much care who was in their way. I was up late when a militia broke into my house to hide. I asked what he was doing, and he told me it was pirates and I had to hide. Taking my grandfather's lesson to heart, I grabbed my family's Coachman from the hearth. Dad bought it to deal with predators, pirates, or anybody else who tried to harm his family or his livestock, but he never fired it except to make sure it was still working. As I came back, I saw one of the turians with some sort of knife. I acted fast, one shot brought down the bastard's shields and I got lucky with the second one. If I went for center mass, I would have never pierced the armor, but the recoil allied my shot right with his head. I’ll spare you the details, but I did keep his knife, my first memento from my service. Still keep on me, care to see it?
No, thanks, Mr. Walker.
Suit yourself. That was really the end of first contact excitement for me. The turians underestimated our numbers, so we won with the skin of our teeth. We ended up having to flee with the militia out of fear of reprisals, so we spent the rest of the war in a bunker. Lost my dad when an orbital strike killed him after he joined up with the militia. Was sad for a while but moved on. Death comes to us all eventually, I’m just glad he went down in service. Just figured I would make him proud through my service. After the peace deal, I enlisted as soon as I could. We were all buddy buddy with the birds and the council, but who the hell knew if that would ever last. We were all buddy buddy with the UC after Narion as well. One thing I knew for certain was that I wasn’t going to let any bastards get the drop on our colonies, no matter what part of the spectrum they bleed.