Chief Anderson wondered why it was so bright and sunny. It didn’t feel right as the coffin was lowered into the ground.
Observing the young boy with sapphire blue eyes and unruly chestnut hair. His stoic face appearing older than his ten years of age. He threw a rose onto the coffin and walked away by himself.
Mark refused comfort from anyone, his father hadn’t returned in time for his mother’s, last days and sudden passing- why would he want to speak to anyone. His glassy eyes and statue stance torn his heart watching his future commander mourn his mothers, passing.
The few words that spoke, held bitterness in them. He felt let down again by another parent abandoning him- This time in death. His mother adoptive Natasha was the only one who understood him and now she was gone, his only other biological parents gave him up at birth and lived far away with their own children-- He barely knew them if at all.
No one really knew his full story, and Mark felt no need to share it.
After the burial, he sat by himself in the graveyard. A young girl with long dark hair and pale skin, and a black dress walked over to him, young Princess.
She stood in front of him and Mark ignored her for ages, she stayed. She put a gentle hand on his shoulder, he touched her fingers briefly not looking up, and then she walked away to join Jason and Tiny.
Its his way, Chief Anderson concluded. He needed time to comprehend his world had changed. Mark’s response to emotional stress was it isolate himself, usually he would sit with his mother during times he was hurting, angry, needed to talk.
Like when Mark read the report… Chief Anderson left out the details such as the mission code name. Missing presumed deceased… was what Mark read.
When the Chief hadn’t heard a word from Matt or the mission squadron in weeks he began to worry, they had been gone a few months by this stage.
Eventually he received a cryptic message sent to him via a radio wave.
Spectran military active, be on alert. Cronus.
Cronus, the mission code for Matt’s squadron.
After that nothing, a few weeks ago, he received reports that they found wreckage of Federation fighter jets on an isolated planet still to be claimed by the federation. The identification verified it was Matt’s team. All five planes shot down, no apparent bodies.
He couldn’t keep it from Natasha, he had to tell her the truth so he handed her the report. She paled and before he knew it, she fainted.
Calling the medical team to come to the mansion with Mark rushing to his mothers, side, Jason, Princess and Tiny not far behind him. She spoke a few words to her son and left the world for the heavens.
Chief Anderson didn’t know what her last words were to Mark, they had all left the room by that point.
Matt would be heartbroken at her loss, they had been together from the time they were young recruits in the military. Matt a budding fighter pilot later an engineer in aviation design, and Natasha in communications on his base. Their marriage had stood the test of time, even after he joined the red squadron commanded by Kentaro Washio.
A hard line Japanese commander who demanded complete dedication from his secretly formed squadron. He had no room for wives and families, they had to cut ties- Kentaro almost drove a permanent wedge in Matt’s marriage.
Until Matt’s plane crashed dramatically during a battle with Galactor at the start of the war, on a dangerous mission leaving him severely wounded and unable to return to the elite squad.
Matt official records held he flew for the UN as a fighter pilot, with access to Top Secret document Anderson knew all the details.
Matt was perfect for the mission, he had no regrets sending him. It was part of his job as security for the new Federation to send qualified people into the unknown, take risks.
Looking into the clear blue horizon across the clifftop, three new fighter jets Anderson arranged to honour Marks parents appeared on the distant horizon, flying closer the three fighter jets slowed down to come in low, one of them left the group to mark the departed pilot.
For Matt and Natasha, Chief bowed his head for a moment.
Sighing heavily, he waited for Mark, but young kid didn’t appear to be leaving his spot anytime soon.
He watched as Mark finally lifted his head, staring into the skies as the fighter jets flew over in a formation- his young eyes watching their every graceful movement through the skies as the silver birds cut through the sky and their engines roared above him.
Mark stood up and ran after them as they continued their flight, like he could catch them if he ran fast enough. Finally, he stopped at the edge of the graveyard, motionless as he watched it fly to a tiny dot in the distance.
This seemed to break Mark out of his spell, he ran back to Chief Anderson, his young face and intense blue gaze deadly serious.
“I want to be your best pilot… I want to fly fast planes… I want to be a part of G-Force… I’ll accept your offer of Commander. I’ll be the most dedicated commander you’ll ever have. I’ll train hard I promise to be the best. I’ll make my mother and father proud of me…” Mark vowed openly. Delivering his promise with conviction, his every word sounded like a much older person speaking it.
Silently Chief accepted his words, he laid a hand on his shoulder, Mark needed this, he could see from every fibre of his being Mark would keep his word.
Four young orphans, stood behind Mark, the young children walked over and placed a hand on Marks shoulder surrounding him they all held the same stance stating their commitment. Jason, the best driver, marksman, kick arse fighter. Princess, electronics, and motorbike- fighter. Tiny- Helmsman, fighter. Little Keyop, he wanted to kick butt too…still a little boy, yet he still understood them.
G-Force at last had fully come together, they could begin….
“Then tomorrow, you start officially training.” Chief Anderson declared, and escorted the five of them to the waiting black limousine waiting on the edge of the graveyard.