Welcome to the CVC

[Blitzen]

He walked with a slight limp, but knew standing would make a greater impression on the teens than if he was seated behind some desk. Sixteen had signed up, but there could potentially be others. He and Master Chief Hawkins knew the sixteen inside and out. They'd read their accomplishments at hero corps, they'd obtained grades from the school and had managed to secure even classified information. His conscious no longer bothered him about such matters, the more information they had the better it would be for the Vanguard and more importantly, for the young people he hoped would continue on for the cause.

As they filed in, he mentally checked them off his list. Romanov, Haven, Keegan. He'd seen countless photos of each of the sixteen.

He smiled as the filled the seats, quiet enough to hear a pin drop. They were serious. He knew they would be.

"Greetings." He began, in a voice commanding authority. "And welcome to the first meeting of the Cadet Vanguard Corps, Chapter 871, St. Josephs School. I am Major Thomas Schefield, this is Master Chief Samantha Hawkins, we'll serve as your instructors, but hopefully and more importantly as your mentors. Both Master Chief Hawkins and myself fought the first war against the Rikti, and I know many of you did your part to fight the second. The Vanguard thanks you, just as Paragon thanks you, but let's face facts, time has passed, but we all know it's far from over. Random attacks are still cropping up. The Warzone is still open, and it's open with good reason- because this fight is not finished. We didn't "win." Sure, we pushed them back, but for how long? For how long." He paused for a moment, the action being more to help set the tone for what he was going to say next than to gather his thoughts.

"Reports suggest that it won't be long at all. They're not retreating. They're regrouping. The next attacks can and will make these look like child's play, and that's why we look to you. The heroes of this war. The ones who are willing to stand up and fight, not for recognition, not for a paycheck, but because this- this is your home. Our home. Our planet. They've terrorized the innocent for long enough and that is why it's the Vanguard's mission to send them packing or send them to hell, to let them know that this is Earth. And here on Earth we don't just back down, slink away with our tail between our legs, we stand, we fight, and there will come a time where we WILL win. This is a planet worth saving. If you'd like to do your part, then we're happy to welcome you to the CVC.

It's here that we'll help you further develop important skills, like self-discipline, teamwork, motivation and confidence. And while you of course are not obliged to join the Vanguard after graduation, many of our cadets in the past have done so and now hold classified ranks, ranks where they make a real and positive difference in the fight against the Rikti. Unlike other programs, I can't promise you school credits or scholarships. We don't have fancy drill teams. What we teach is the truth. We keep our ears and our eyes open. We know our enemies. We know how to fight them. I'd love to be optimistic and say in the near future there won't be a need, but there will be. The threat is real. We've seen it. You've seen it.

Our classes involve both physical training and classroom training, both are which are on a voluntary basis. No one will force you to be here, just as no one will force you to stay, however we hope that you will be serious enough to consider that unlike many others, you will be ready. You will make a difference. If you aren't willing to accept the challenge, or challenge yourself for that matter, if you're just here because you think you'll get a field trip to the Vanguard Headquarters someday or for any other agenda, we ask that you leave our time and our resources for those cadets who are serious.

Now, I'm not Patton. I'm not big on inspirational speeches, or rallying the troops. So I'll open the floor up to questions for those of you who choose to stay. For those of you who don't, no one will think less of you if you walk out that door. You've done your part, and we thank you. Chances are, we'll see you again during the next attacks. We just ask that you keep your guard up and remember that the battle has been won, but the war is far from over."

[Blitzen]

The program had been temporarily on hiatus. Both Hawkins and Schefield had to take a brief leave of absence, and both decided it was best to hold off until they could give the program their undivided attention. Still, Schefileld was happy to see a decent turnout with some new faces when he announced the restart of the program.

The first class was a lecture on the history of the Vanguard, its mission and the importance of it. His chapter had been assigned a Senior cadet, an amicable senior from Prescott High School by the name of Andrew West. According to his file, West was an active participant in the CVC from his freshman year, and it looked as if he was destined for a career in the Vanguard after graduation.

His purpose was mainly to acclimate Jessica St. Peter, the cadet chosen for the senior position at St. Josephs. Once St. Peter was comfortable in her new role, West would return to his own cadet corps.

"So what do you think?" Schefield asked after the cadets had filed out of the room. The younger man flashed a confident smile and a nod back towards the instructor, thinking of what a shame it was. Schefield was obviously a decent soldier, he would have had a long, impressive career if it wasn't cut short by his injuries.

"Decent group of kids." Andrew replied, instantly regretting his choice of words. "I mean, all of them seem like they have potential, sir."

"They do." The Major agreed. A few have even been helping in the Warzone, impressively, I might add."

"You don't say." The gears in the younger man's wheels had already begun turning. "Well, sir, I'll try and meet up with St.Peter and possibly a few others if you don't mind before the next meeting. It's hard to get to know people in a classroom setting."

"By all means." Schefield smiled back. "I think she'll do fine. I think most of them will do fine. But sometimes they're more comfortable relating to a peer than to an "old dog" like myself." Hawkins coughed and mentioned something about the two of them being young pups still, making Schefield laugh. "Well, if I remember my teenage years right, anyone over 25 was positively ancient. Here's the part where you're supposed to say 'No Sir, you're not ancient,' West."

"No Sir, you're not ancient." the younger man parroted, causing the three to chuckle.

"I appreciate you coming by, Cadet West."

"No sweat, Sir. I only hope I can be of some assistance." He flashed another grin and saluted his superior before leaving. Pulling his ball cap lower over his eyes as he exited, he looked left and right for signs of the teens before heading towards the warzone.

[Storm Scream]

Why am I here?

It was an honest question running through Jessica's mind as she entered Major Schefield's office. Quickly in her head, she recounted all the activities of the past weeks.

Gabe's gone and...and Kat's been doin...and then Sam has been...yeah...what happened NOW? Nothing had gone wrong in the weeks leading up to the major and Hawkins' return to Vanguard headquarters. When Vanguard had heard of the fiasco in the warzone that almost got them all killed, the CVC detachment comprised of SJS students had been disbanded indefinitely, and Schefield and Hawkins put under investigation.

When they came back saying Vanguard had reactivated the unit, everyone seemed pretty excited.

Well, almost everyone...

Arkady was the one who wanted to be in Vanguard...not me...why am I in charge...

The question had raged through Jessica's mind the past weeks as she struggled to get her unit back up and running.

She had asked Schefield why they thought she was qualified. He had laughed at her, told her it was because of her record. "What record" she asked. He simply smiled and winked.

"The one you're making today, when you turn around and take charge."

The memory of friends lost always burned in her mind. One friend seemed to burn brighter, hotter...always there, bringing shame and guilt.

James.

He had "sacrificed" his life to stop an attack in Atlas Park.

She knew what really happened, even without people telling her afterwards.

He had been gone for so long...without saying goodbye...

When Vanguard started the cadet program, she was one of the first to sign up. "I can't let his death...no matter how...stupid...it was...to go in vain..." was her reasoning. "I have to keep his spirit alive..."

And so keep it alive she did. She found herself thinking what he would do when it came time to getting people to get things done. Hell...there were times she would stop herself and shudder, hearing his voice come out from her, or so she thought. He was always with her, pushing her, keeping her going.

"I have to help others...I have to be able to lay down my life for someone who needs me to. Otherwise..."

There was never an otherwise...it was too great to think about. She hated the idea that people could die; no, HAVE died, because of the decisions she couldn't make.

She knocked twice on the door in front of her. A gruff voice on the other side shouted "Enter!" She turned the knob and walked in, closing the door behind her. She did an about-face and, coming to attention, saluted.

"Sir. Cadet St. Peter, reporting as ordered."

Major Schefield saluted back, chuckling. "I've got some good news for you today, Jessica..." He got up, walking to the wall on the right and motioning for her to come as well.

There were three cardboard boxes, all with the Vanguard emblem on the side.

"As if Vanguard saying you kids were back in business wasn't enough..." He tapped the top box with his open hand. "Here are your uniforms. Make sure everyone gets one, St. Peter. I think you'll like these..." Schefield smiled, and Jessica stood, relieved and happy.

She smiled wide, then returned to attention. "Will that be all, sir?"

Schefield nodded. "That's all. Get some of your cadets in here to haul these out...they're taking up too much space."

Jessica saluted, and after the major returned her salute, she turned and hurried out of the office to find some of her friends to help carry the boxes out.

At least we're not in trouble again... she thought, relieved.

[Kierin]

I'm not really sure what's happening to me. I'm not even sure of all that has happened to me. I don't know why I was chosen to be a mad spirit's lackey for beating things up that it doesn't like. What I do know though is that this is my home right now, and the Rikti are for some reason here to destroy it.

Of course that's the obvious reason. I live here, I want to make a difference and defend my home, blah blah...

...Then the not so obvious... for that I need to look in my head, and that's a dark, confusing place. There is some base need, some essential desire that isn't fulfilled. As I sit through my classes, try to sleep, I feel lost, as if I'm just wandering back and forth, unable to find the way through a maze. Only when I'm on patrol fighting the villains of Paragon do I begin to feel clear and fulfilled. Even then, though, there seems to be some faint distraction that won't let my mind rest easy.

I now think this also might be another part of the curse this Sky spirit has given to me. I was more or less ordered to fight the Rikti... I think the Sky has a weird idea that its been personally offended by the Rikti coming down out of the air to kill innocent people. Whatever works, I guess. I'm not a fan of the Rikti's either. But the intense clarity I feel when I begin to think of fighting the Rikti - the Sky's sworn enemies, apparently – is not something I can explain without thinking that the spirit that gives me my powers wants my head to be there.

I don't feel great about bowing to the Sky's wishes, but I'd feel worse not taking the chance to bring some hurt back to the aliens that are trying to destroy us. And I can't say I'm not looking forward to showing them what the Storm can really do.

[Blitzen]

Sam was glad to see the CVC get a new start. She believed in the program during the war, and she figured perhaps the hiatus was some sort of test. Sure people were bound to sign up when the attacks were going on, it’s what sparked her interest to begin with; Four words. Make. Them. Go. Home. But now some time had past. Some of the more gung-ho students found other things to be gung-ho about. People tend to forget. It’s not that they should dwell on it everyday, how bad things were, how many people were killed, what it was like to be there. But they shouldn’t all together forget it, either. She went to the war zone nearly every day since to help out, do her part, to remember for herself. She hadn’t lost anyone, not really except for Croc, and even that stung. It stung to see empty seats in the classroom, and it stung to hear students cry about being alone this Christmas.

It was a full out attack, it was fast, it was scary and it caught her off guard. Maybe that’s what was nagging at the back of her brain – the fact that they came and hit home, her current home, and no one knew it was coming. They’d watched the ships descend and no one knew a thing until the bombs started dropping, and then they seemed to know even less. It was a horrible feeling. But not again.

She’d clung to Schefield’s words the first day. They’re not retreating, they’re regrouping. They would be back.

But it was more than just that. Aside from that one horribly botched mission that made her grimace to think about, she seemed to fit with the Vanguard. And it’s not like there were a ton of other options after High School. Her grades were still barely passing, and sure she loved the football team, but she wasn’t scholarship material by any means, and even if she was, college would just be more school. The Vanguard? They made a difference. She wanted to make a difference, lame as it sounded. She secretly wished her friends could be more supportive of it. Ves, Artie, Bryan, their minds were so poisoned against the Vanguard, and none could give a specific reason why. Because they employed villains? Jotunn was from the Isles, he was a good guy. And isn’t it better that they fight the Rikti then fight the Longbow, or go on crime sprees? She shook her head. It just didn’t make sense. Besides, Eddie was part of it, and if anything was wrong? Eddie would know. Jess wouldn’t be part of anything not on the up and up either. Her father was a liaison even, the Air Force sent him to work with them. And there was Burn Out, good people, all of them. Sam shrugged it off as she pulled on her Cadet Vanguard jacket. Her friends were just worried. They didn’t understand. She was good at this. Bryan- he could always be the corporate lawyer after High School like he talked about. He could go to college and do well with the Long Bow. And Artie- he had practically his whole life mapped out for him by the spirits that guided him. And Ves? She was smart enough to get into a good school and do whatever she wanted after. Be a shame to lose such a great fighter, she’d do really well with the Vanguard. All of them would, but it was their choice. She’d support them no matter what. She hoped they’d do the same.

[Ekaterina Gordieva]

Kat sat at her desk in her room after the CVC meeting, her purple and black jacket drapped across the back of her chair. She was glad the CVC was restarting. She had heard about the mission that had nearly cost her friends their lives. She knew it was dangerous in the Warzone, but that's why Vanguard was there. To keep it from being as dangerous everywhere else. Despite all of it, she still felt that Vanguard had the best shot at ending the war the quickest. If she could help with that, she would. She needed to help in everyway possible.

She needed closure. She needed vengence. That thought chilled her more than anything. When had she become so cold? It wasn't the waves of Rikti that darkened the skies. Or the mission that had almost taken her boyfriend and some of her best friends from her. It wasn't even the time she had spent as one of the hundreds of thousands of missing. It was a singular bomb. One well placed Rikti bomb had taken out a bridge over the bay in Talos on the first day of the invasion, sending it and dozens of cars into the salty water. Few people made it back out of there. Her parents were not among them.

In spite of what many of her friends said about the CVC, she wasn't doing it because she liked to fight or because her boyfriend was in it. She wasn't doing it for the extra credit or the possible college financial assistance down the line. She was doing it for her parents.

She was doing it to make them proud.

[Io]

There was nothing else to do but think right now, so thats what Io did. He thought about several things, but given where he was right now he thought a lot about the CVC. He thought about all the reasons he may have joined. One reason could have been because he felt like him being there would be of some importance. Of course in joining anything there is always the chance that you could make a difference. He didn't care about if made a difference, that reason didn't feel right to him. The thought of joining because of revenge or making someone proud was right out, he has never lost anyone to anything like that. There is also the idea of joining because the Rikti have attacked our home, our planet. This wasn't his reasoning either mainly because that just never felt right to him. Io thought about a lot of other reasons for him to join, then he realized people from his group were waving at him. He finally remembered his reasoning for join. It was the other people here, not everyone on the earth. He joined to help the people who decided to head here for their own reason. Protecting people was what he was trained to do, this was just a way for him to do what he likes. If he could keep someone safe he would be happy. Thats all the reasoning he needed to join.

[Gabriel Templar]

Gabe was standing on the back porch of his Grandparent's house, and it felt positively tropical compared to Paragon. Grandpa Templar pulled out a pack of foil-wrapped cigars, their little after-Christmas-dinner ritual. Mom and Grandma were inside packing away leftovers.

"oh for Christ's sake," Grandpa Templar was saying; the conversation had, naturally, turned to him asking Gabe about school, and from there to his extracurricular acitivies. Now Gabe sat on the edge of his seat brandishing the impressive packet of waivers and permission slips from the Cadet Vanguard Program.

"When I was his age," Grandpa Templar continued, "I was in the 29th Army Infantry..."

Gabe's dad, John, laughed, "yeah, I know pops, it's not like it used to be."

Gabe looked from one to the other, hopefully. "You'd better sign those papers, Johnny," Grandpa said. John laughed again, "yeah, I know."

Gabe broke the comfortable twilight silence, "you were in the infantry? At my age?" He tried to imagine. He'd known Gramps lied about his age, or the recruiters didn't care, but having just turned seventeen two months ago, Gabe tried to wrap his mind around what it would have been like to hit Omaha Beach.

It probably felt a lot like the warzone, he concluded. He'd seen enough in his time there, and he'd noticed some of his classmates starting to develop the thousand-mile stare. He'd fought, he might have killed. Maybe that was the difference, Gabe thought, he fired electricity, he lit them up and if they were seriously hurt he never even knew. 25 milliamps at a few thousand volts could stop a heart, but if they couldn't revive them in some medical chamber in the bowels of the mothership he never knew about it. It wasn't like putting iron sights onto a soldier and pulling the trigger. He wondered if a plasma cannon was anything like a flamethrower.

Grandpa nodded, "yeah, 29th infantry, training. I was 18 when we hit the beach though, we spent a year training in Scotland, but, yeah, I was about your age Gabby."

Gabe knew he shouldn't, old memories and all, but something made him ask, "I wonder if the Rikti Containment Zone is similar?"

Gramps nodded slowly, "you know, I figure it probably is, the mothership." He unwrapped another cigar, slowly and reverently, "are you going to join the Vanguard?" he asked.

Gabe shrugged, "I don't know, by the time they'll let me I hope it's over, I'm not sure if UN peacekeeper is really what I want to be, but, they need us, and it's good experience..." he just trailed off.

Grandpa handed the cigar over to Gabe, who took it with a surprised look on his face, looking over at his dad. John nodded, smiling slowly.

"So," Grandpa asked, "what'd you do in the war?" he was looking right at Gabe.

Gabe never felt like a soldier, he wasn't. He barely felt like a cop, most of the time. He didn't do the things expected of a soldier, or of a policeman. He was just a citizen, a regular kid that occasionally went out and did extrordinary things. But at that moment, he felt like a man.