A/N:Hello dear readers. This chapter contains space combat, and it's the first time I've ever written space combat, so go easy on me. Tell me what you think and how I can improve it.
Anyway, I meant to get this out before Christmas, but a bunch of things came up and interrupted my writing. Regardless, merry (late) Christmas and happy new year. Now on with the story.
Captain Harrison looked at the display, specifically at another readout of the research ship. It was still slowly limping further away from the relay, apparently still moving due to built up momentum left over from when it had engines. Harrison nodded to himself absently, they needed to get that ship out of the way.
"Garcia," he called out, gaining the woman's attention, "contact the Gratitude, tell them to tow that research ship out of harms way and get back into formation as soon as possible. Tell every one else to maintain formation and make sure that weapons, shields and engines are ready, and place the fleet on high alert. That goes for you too, Carmine."
"Yes sir." Garcia and Carmine, the weapons officer, said in unison. "Bastards wont know what hit 'em." Carmine added with a smirk. Harrison had already ordered the small fleet to have their weapons ready, but a last minute check to make sure things were running properly could mean the difference between life and death. Harrison had learned that the hard way.
He watched both the display and Garcia intently, counting the seconds before his orders had been relayed. The sooner they got the surviving researchers out of the way, the better. Fortunately he didn't have to wait long, as soon enough the frigate Gratitude was on the move, going as fast as it could towards the still drifting research vessel. The Gratitude was the closest ship to the researchers, the research ship drifting to right in front and below it, but it would still take some time to line up the frigate correctly in order to send out the tow cable, a matter made even more difficult by the fact that the research ship couldn't stop.
"Computer," he said out loud, now satisfied that the researchers would soon be out of harms of way, "bring up file designate 21-U-18-I-114, clearance level Omega." The file number had been ingrained into the captains memory, as it was with every ship captain in the Alliance navy. It was the file that contained every bit of intel the Alliance had on the aliens that drove the Lokatae from Inopor, from ship specs to known tactics.
"Voice pattern recognized. Access granted to Captain William H. Harrison, identification number 517625-C-WK. Opening file." the ships computer droned in a slightly feminine voice.
On the holographic display in front of the captain an orange file appeared, opening up into a giant wall of text, pictures and diagrams. Using his finger, Harrison scrolled down to the ship specs of the aliens, from their capabilities to their design. It had been a while since he reviewed the information, and he felt he needed a touch-up for the coming face-to-face.
In the early days of the Alliance, this file had been shoved down the throats of every officer of the rank of captain and over as if it were a religious text. An abridged version was even made mandatory reading for captains of civilian vessels, in case of the event that they came across the hostile species. After over a hundred years since the exodus of the Lokatae without any sign of the aliens, though, Alliance command had gotten a little lax on memorization of the file. Harrison found himself almost wishing they hadn't.
In the middle of scrolling, the captain noticed a picture of one of the aliens, and he took a moment to examine what they looked like, if only for a brief moment. The alien in the picture had matte grey skin, blood red armor and piercing green eyes staring defiantly at a Lokatae pointing an assault rifle at its face. The aliens had quickly gained a reputation during the battle for being incredibly disciplined, acting as if nothing could frighten them, let alone death.
What shocked the Lokatae the most when they were first attacked was how similar their enemy was to them. Indeed, the alien Harrison was looking at right now looked, to put it bluntly, like a Lokataen with metal plates. Of course, there were differences, like the spiky fringe instead of a feathery crest, and these aliens had mandibles, unlike the Lokatae. Harrison couldn't imagine what that would be like for the Lokatae, finding out that not only is there other life in the galaxy, but they also looked almost exactly like you. And then they wanted to kill you.
The aliens also seemed to like to decorate themselves with some kind of war paint, as the alien in the picture exemplified with purple marks that went horizontally across its face. Whether the purpose of the paint was for identification or intimidation or any number of other possibilities, no one knew.
What infuriated both the Lokatae and humanity to no end, however, was that they could never place a name to the species. Even during the short war the Lokatae fought for control of Inopor, they never once learned the name of their attacker. This lead to a wide array of names the Lokatae created to refer to their enemy, from the more dramatic 'fallen angel' to the more basic 'metal head'. Nowadays, most people called them 'Metaloks', a term first coined by a prominent human researcher. Upon viewing an image of one the aliens for the first time, he exclaimed, "Wow, they look like metal Lok's!" and the term stuck.
Harrison shook his head. He needed to get back to work. Scrolling down the rest of the way, he finally reached the information he was looking for; their ship specs.
When the aliens invaded Inopor, they first had to go through the Lokataen fleet, which sounds more difficult than it actually turned out to be. The Lokatae were still inexperienced in space combat, and it showed. The alien ships had their Lokataen equals outgunned, outmaneuvered and outclassed at every turn. Lokataen ships were faster, but that was the only advantage they had, and it wasn't enough for their comparatively rookie captains to beat the enemy. The aliens simply had better training, more firepower, stronger shields, and outnumbered them roughly 3 to 1. The only reason the Lokataens that escaped managed to do so was because the rest of the fleet not performing evacuations had literally sacrificed itself, allowing the fleeing ships to make a jump to FTL before the invaders could even notice.
Thankfully, the Alliance had upgraded the Lokataen ship design, putting them on a more level playing field with the metaloks. A more pragmatic part of Harrison had to remind him that if the Lokatae had advanced in a hundred years, then so too did the metaloks, making the data they had on them obsolete, but he quickly pushed that thought to the back of his mind. Even if they had, Harrison needed to make sure they didn't get to Shanxi, or anywhere else for that matter, so there was no point in thinking about it.
That thought gave Harrison more resolve, and he quickly scanned the information, specifically about their average shield strength and how long it took them to align their main guns. Most of the information wasn't even fully confirmed though, as it was collected by the Lokatae over a century ago while they were trying to defend their planet, but it was the best they had.
After reading a little bit, Harrison minimized the file to check the progress of the Gratitude and the research ship. The two ships had barely moved from their position since he last saw them. Looks like they just got the cable set up he thought, scowling. Hopefully they can make it to a safe distance before...
As if the universe was anticipating his next thought, the bridge exploded into a mess of movement and sound. Fingers began dancing rapidly at their consoles as an annoying klaxon blared throughout the room.
"Report!" Harrison yelled, straining to be heard above the cacophony of noise.
"Contacts coming through the relay, sir." Smith yelled back, voice tense. "Seven of them if I'm reading this correctly. One cruiser analogue and six frigate analogues."
Harrison cursed under his breath. He wasn't ready for them yet. The researchers were still in danger, and he only outnumbered the aliens by one, though he might as well not have since one of his ships was practically a civilian for the moment.
"Alright, Garcia!" he called, "Tell the fleet to hold fire unless fired upon or I give the signal. I want to try talking to the aliens, so hail them as soon as they get through the relay. And tell the Gratitude to keep pulling the coats out of here, but they need to get back here as soon as possible."
"Yes sir." she replied, hands instantly flying over her console as she set about her task.
"Carmine..." Harrison began, only to be interrupted by the man. Normally Harrison wouldn't have accepted such behavior, but at the moment time was in short supply.
"Weapons and shields ready to go, sir!" the lieutenant called out.
"Okay-" Harrison began, only to be interrupted again, this time by his sensors operator.
"Contacts are through the relay. One cruiser and six frigates." Smith paused slightly before he continued, what he was about to say obviously taking its toll on him. "It's them, sir."
Harrison could understand the mans apprehension. No matter what happened, they would be both living and making history. Lets just hope history doesn't repeat itself he thought grimly.
"Sir," Garcia said, interrupting the captains musings, "all ships have acknowledged orders, hailing contacts." In a shorter amount of time than Harrison expected, Garcia spoke again.
"Connection established."
But before Harrison could say anything, the aliens, or what he presumed to be the aliens, interrupted him with a series of clicks and snaps. Though Harrison couldn't understand any of it, he could get the tone behind it. Whatever they were saying, they were angry, to put it bluntly. Then it ended abruptly, and everything went to hell.
"Sir," Smith yelled, panic evident in his voice, "energy signatures on the three front most alien ships powering up. I think they're weapons, and I think they're targeting the researchers and Gratitude."
"Dammit," Harrison bellowed with a snarl, "I want firing solutions for the whole fleet on those ships. Garcia, warn Shanxi, tell them what's going on!"
A chorus of yes sirs answered him, plunging the bridge further into controlled chaos. Harrison glanced up at the holographic display, noticing for the first time that the enemy formation was highlighted, now in red, on it. Harrison mentally kicked himself for not paying attention to this sooner, but everything that had happened had kept his attention elsewhere.
The metaloks were in an arrowhead formation, their frigates extending out to form the arrowhead with their cruiser behind and in the center of the formation. Having them clustered together like that would hopefully make them easier to deal with, but Harrison knew that anything could happen in a battle.
"Sir," Garcia called out, "incoming transmission from the Fortitude."
"The Fortitude is breaking formation and accelerating. Final coordinates on screen." Smith said, adding to Garcia's report, a certain grimness in his tone.
"What the hell is Dale doing? Patch it through, Garcia!" Harrison demanded, earning a swift yes sir from the woman. A few seconds later she gave him a thumbs up, indicating that the connection was made.
"Frigate Fortitude, this is Mercy, what the hell are you doing, Dale?" Harrison said out loud, knowing the captain of the frigate could hear him on his ship. He then glanced at the display, what he saw making him do a double-take, and he understood why Smith had sounded so grim. The Fortitude was moving so that it was in between the hostile ships and the civilians.
"I'm doing my duty, captain Harrison." Juka Dale responded. The slightly musical quality to his voice, that all Lokatae possessed, was downcast and somber. He was a man resigned to his fate.
"Get back into formation, Dale." Harrison ordered firmly, though he knew in the back of his mind that there was nothing he could do to convince the man to listen. An even smaller part of him, one he didn't want to listen to right now, knew that what the Lokataen was doing was right.
"Negative, captain. My crew and I will buy the Gratitude some time to get the civilians to safety. We are happy to do so, but we have only one request for you." the Lokatae replied, the somber tone in his voice now mixing with determination.
"And what would that be?" Harrison asked, knowing he couldn't stop the man, even if he tried.
"Make them pay." Dale said in a growl, his voice filled with anger. Then the line went dead, leaving the bridge of the Mercy in a deafening silence. Harrison looked around the bridge to see solemn dread painted on everyone's faces. He looked back at the display, watching the Fortitude move into position while Gratitude continued to slowly tug the research vessel away from the battlefield. The dread he felt in himself was soon replaced by fury. These alien bastards thought they could just waltz wherever they pleased, killing whoever they wanted without consequence. It was high time someone taught them a lesson, and Harrison would see to it that it was him to teach them that lesson. One way or another, he would make them pay.
"You heard the man." he yelled out suddenly, causing most of the bridge crew to flinch. "We have them surrounded and we've got the high ground. They don't stand a chance." at that, many of the crew nodded, a fierce look in their eyes replacing the dread that had washed over them moments before. "I want firing solutions on those bastards yesterday! Lets give them hell!" with that he was answered with a booming chorus of acknowledgement, sending the bridge into a highly coordinated dance of running feet and typing fingers. Not too long after that the holographic display lit up with red trails going from the ships in his fleet to their respective targets, signifying that they all had a lock-on.
"Weapons ready, sir!" Smith called out, snapping Harrison's attention to the younger man. He nodded, a smirk forming on his lips. He would enjoy this.
"All ships, fire at will!" he yelled, and a deep rumbling within the ship answered him. He turned his attention back to the display to watch what happened next.
The enemy cruiser had been categorized as the biggest threat by the ships computer so the Mercy had chosen it as its target. The single mass accelerated round mixed in with the swarm of other rounds shot at the enemy fleet, creating a deadly wave speeding right for the aliens.
The enemy ships aiming at the researchers fired in this moment as well, sending three rounds charging for the limping ship. For a moment it looked as if the Fortitude wouldn't make it in time, but at the last second it pulled up in front of the enemy salvo, sparing the researchers.
As the rounds hit, the lone frigate's shields flickered and died in an instant, the already weak shields no match for that kind of punishment. Three gaping holes were punched through the ship, one of them going through the mass effect core, and the ship exploded in a bright ball of blue and orange.
The sight caused Harrison's breath to hitch in his throat. He had lost people under his command before, it came with the job, but he still hadn't gotten used to it. He supposed that was a good thing, it let him know that he was still human and not just some killing machine, but sometimes he wished he couldn't...feel. That he was just a robot that couldn't form connections or feel...anything. It would surely make this job easier.
But then he looked at the research ship once more, still being towed by the Gratitude. If he couldn't feel, then he wouldn't feel a duty to protect the innocent. He'd be no better than these aliens.
The thought made him snarl, and he forced his concentration back onto the enemy fleet. They had taken evasive action, weaving and turning every which way to try to escape the opening salvo. The cruiser had it easier than the frigates, who were trying to avoid the rapid, continuous fire from Harrison's frigates. In contrast, the enemy cruiser only had a single round that was much slower, albeit much stronger. Fortunately for it, it had enough time to move just enough that when the round hit, it only grazed the shields of one of the wings.
It was then Harrison noticed something odd about the alien vessels. They looked exactly like the pictures in their file. At first Harrison didn't think much of it, as it was the same species, so of course they would be the same. But the pictures in the file were over a hundred years old, and still they looked exactly the same. It was almost as if the pictures had jumped out of the file and were now shooting at his fleet themselves. But surely they would have evolved their ship design in some way, advanced their technology, upgraded their armament? Could it be that they were lucky enough to be fighting a stagnating enemy?
More movement from the enemy ships interrupted his train of thought, as they were now trying to align their main guns. He needed to get his own ships moving.
"Garcia, tell the frigates to get their asses moving. I need them to draw away the enemy frigates while we take on the cruiser." he ordered hurriedly, trying to talk a mile a minute. He glanced at the display again, checking the progress of the Gratitude. They had almost pulled the research ship completely out of danger, but he needed that ship now. It'll have to do he thought with a grimace, not particularly comfortable with leaving the researchers alone. "Tell the Gratitude to detach its cable and let the coats drift. We need their help on the cruiser." he added, Garcia already tapping away at the console in front of her. Now the real battle began.
The Alliance frigates charged down at the enemy frigates, still blasting away, making use of every second they could fire on them until they had to disengage and flank to a better position. It wasn't long until the metaloks were able to align their main guns, and fire a barrage of their own. Unfortunately for them the Alliance frigates were too fast, easily avoiding the slugs. Nevertheless, both sides now had to engage in a deadly dance, jockeying for the better angle. Luckily that was just the sort of thing Alliance frigates were built for.
Harrison felt his cruiser lumber beneath him as it started moving forwards, towards the enemy cruiser. They needed to get closer so that their next shot couldn't be avoided. Harrison wasn't worried though, the enemy cruiser's shields were already weakened, even if only a little bit, and he had backup on the way.
As if to muddle his spirits, the enemy cruiser chose that moment to fire. The shot lanced out of the ship, a bright orange contrasting with the black of space. "Evasive action, but keeps us aligned!" Harrison bellowed, and he felt the inertia dampeners kick in as the ship lurched to the side. The Mercy's charge worked for her enemy as well, as it was too hard for the ship to completely avoid the shot, as it grazed their starboard side.
"Shields at 89% strength, sir!" Carmine called out, not even waiting for the obvious question. Harrison grit his teeth at the announcement. Luckily that wasn't a direct hit, but they needed to end this skirmish fast.
He looked at the display again, seeing the holographic form of the Gratitude weaving through the battlefield on its way to aid his ship, avoiding stray shots all the way.
"Garcia, tell the Gratitude to flank the enemy cruiser and try to draw as much of their point-defenses as possible, but they need to stay alive! Carmine, are the missiles ready?" he yelled over the chaos of the bridge. Both Garcia and Carmine did the same, replying with curt 'yes sir's. Good Harrison thought, we'll need those soon.
"Fire the main gun again while we wait for the Gratitude to get into position." he ordered, and the ship began to shudder in response. The shuddering came to a climax as the round blasted out of the main gun of the Mercy, racing towards the enemy cruiser. The close proximity made it too difficult for them to avoid the shot, and it hit them dead on. The shields still deflected it, but the increased flickering proved that they were now wavering.
Unfortunately for them, the Gratitude was now in position behind them, their rapid fire canon hitting their backside and draining their shields further. Almost immediately the ships point defenses lit up in response to the new threat, hundreds of small mass accelerated rounds and lasers desperately trying to destroy the small frigate. Only the lasers seemed to hit, melting away some of the ships hull as it passed. They couldn't take that kind of damage for long, but they already provided the distraction Harrison needed.
"Fire maelstrom missiles 1-50 and the Ananke nuke a few seconds after!" he bellowed, the order earning several smirks across the bridge.
The maelstrom missile was an important part in the Alliance arsenal, acting as both a shield buster and ship killer. A few seconds after the missile is launched, it reveals itself to be ten missiles stuck together that then spread themselves out. While not very deadly individually, in large swarms these missiles prove to be very effective. The idea is to launch hundreds upon hundreds of missiles at the enemy in an effort to overcome their point defenses, at once ensuring that enough missiles hit the target and that any friendly frigates and fighters attacking the ship gain a small reprieve from point-defense fire. The only drawback was that they usually had to be fired when very close to the enemy, to make sure that enough missiles made it.
The Ananke class nuke, on the other hand, was all about putting as much destructive power as possible into one missile. Armed with 100 times the power as the nuke that was dropped on the city Hiroshima, it was costly but highly effective. To make sure it hit the target, Harrison was using the maelstrom missiles as a screen to hopefully hide the nuke until it was too late. It, unfortunately, worked best on unshielded targets, prompting his next order.
"Fire the main gun again, and I don't care if it's not fully charged." he said, interrupting Carmine before he could protest. The ship rumbled again, this time a lot more forcefully as both the main gun fired and the missiles launched. The round from the main gun sped ahead of the wave of missiles, slamming into the enemy cruiser once again. It hit with less power this time, as it wasn't fully charged, and the shields of the enemy ship were still up. Harrison scowled at that. Hopefully the maelstrom missiles would be enough to take down the shields.
A few seconds into their flight, the maelstrom missiles separated, increasing their number from 50 to 500, all racing towards the enemy cruiser. Not to go down without a fight, the cruiser focused its point defenses all turned their attention to the veritable wall of explosives heading for the ship. Immediately dozens of the missiles were destroyed, but their were just too many for the point defenses to handle, and they showed no sign of stopping.
Seeing their chance, the Gratitude came around for another pass, peppering the shields of the cruiser once more. In response the cruiser refocused some of its point defenses onto the frigate, allowing even more missiles to survive the onslaught. In the end, it was all for naught, as the maelstrom missiles soon found their mark.
Over 400 of the original 500 of the missiles hit the cruisers shields and they, combined with the fire from the frigate, were finally able to take down the cruisers shields, which flickered out of existence to the relief of the Mercy's crew. The nuke, which had thankfully survived, had been closely following the maelstrom missiles, ready to hit the ship as soon as the shields were down. Before the cruiser could react, the nuke hit its bow. The following explosion was both magnificent and horrifying, making Harrison feel a small amount of sympathy for the metaloks. If only for a second.
As soon as the nuke hit, it erupted into a bright red-orange explosion that consumed half the ship. When it finally subsided, Harrison saw that only the back half of the ship was left, the rest being consumed by the fireball, and the force of the explosion caused what was left of the ship to drift aimlessly in space. A second later the electromagnetic pulse released by the nuke washed over the Mercy, but luckily the ship was hardened against EMP's, so they didn't have to worry about a power-outage.
The sight of what was once an enemy cruiser brought smiles to everyone's face, but that was as far as they went. They knew that battle wasn't over just yet.
"Status report, now!" Harrison barked, wasting no time over the victory.
"Backup power online!" Smith said. "Everything's running at 50% efficiency, sir."
"Shields at 68%." Carmine added, frowning. "Weapons are too hot. The constant fire took more out of us than I thought."
Harrison frowned as well at the report. That was worse than he had been expecting. At least the enemy cruiser was done for, but the enemy frigates might still be able to do some damage.
"How's the fleet doing?" he asked, bringing his attention to the holographic display.
"Not as well as we'd like." Smith said sullenly in lieu of a response, bringing up the relative data on the display. The remark earned several foreboding looks from around the bridge, and everyone looked at the captain as he read the report.
Three of the enemy frigates had been destroyed, and the other three were now running for the Relay. Two of them looked damaged, as parts of them were missing and there were small fires about them, but the other one looked as if it didn't take much, if any, damage at all. Harrison switched his attention to his own side, and frowned at what he saw. One of his frigates, the Supremacy, had been destroyed, lost with all hands. Two others had been critically damaged, now dead in the water. The other four had taken damage, but not enough to put them out of the fight.
"We've lost a ship." Harrison said out loud to the bridge crew, many of their faces turning glum at the news, the elation brought by the destruction of the enemy cruiser easily outdone by the death pf some of their comrades. Soon after silence fell onto the bridge, as each member gave a moment of quite for the fallen.
"Sir, the fleet is requesting permission to pursue the enemy ships." Garcia said in a quite whisper, not rally wanting to break the silence. Harrison inhaled sharply, shaking his head of the gloom that had befallen his ship. They would mourn the dead later. Now was the time for vengeance.
"Permission granted." he said sternly, the order launching everyone back into motion. "We're going after them, too. Put as much power into the engines as possible so we can catch up to them." he ordered, a chorus of 'yes sir's answering him. The ship began to lurch once more as it sped after the fleeing aliens. They weren't going very fast, because even though they were putting as much power into the engines as possible, they were still relying on backup power, the effects of the nuke still not completely worn off.
The enemy frigates were nearing the relay, causing Harrison to scowl. It would be up to his frigates to destroy them, as the Mercy wouldn't be able to catch them in time. The Alliance frigates sped after the enemy regardless, firing their weapons all the way. One of the already damaged metalok frigates was peppered with fire, and couldn't take any more, erupting into a satisfying explosion, sending pieces of the frigate flying every which way. Soon after the other damaged frigate followed it into death, exploding into a magnificent ball of orange. The four Alliance frigates now all focused their fire on the last enemy frigate, but it was too close. It would make it through the relay.
"Garcia, patch me through to the fleet." he ordered, only waiting a second for the order to be complete. "All ships, this is Harrison. Do not, I repeat, do NOT follow the ship through the relay. If it makes it through, end your pursuit."
Harrison resumed watching the display, hoping that they could destroy the bastards before they escaped. But, as if to mock him, fate decided that they would go free.
The enemy frigate made it to the relay right as its shields collapsed. The relay seemed to reach out for the frigate with an electric arm and flung it to safety before they could finish it off. It took some cosmetic damage, but that was all they could get from it.
Harrison stared at the display for a long moment, scowling. The bridge crew sat in stunned silence, looking from one another and to the captain. Looking for some indication of what they should do next.
Harrison broke the silence with the grace of a charging elephant, barking out a new set of orders.
"Garcia, tell the fleet to tow our critical's and rendezvous in sector Alpha, then get a link to command. Carmine, getting the weapons and shields up to snuff is priority one, so get on it. Everyone else, get our power situation solved immediately!"
The new orders rejuvenated the crew, and they went about their tasks with steady determination and concentration. The ship rumbled once more as it began to head for the rendezvous point, and Harrison could practically feel the strain it took on the ship. He glanced at the holographic relay on his display, wondering how long it would be before he saw it be used once more.
The battle had not gone as well as he had hoped. He had thought his superior positioning and the element of surprise would have made the battle an easy victory, but perhaps he underestimated the tenacity of the aliens. Regardless, the outcome of the battle had taken its toll on him, and did nothing but make him dread the coming of the next battle.
Harrison shook his head roughly and mentally kicked himself. No matter how he felt about his chances, he had ensured that the aliens would think twice about killing civilians of the Alliance. That alone was victory enough, even if the cost was too high for his liking.
"Sir?" a quite voice asked, interrupting his musing. He turned his head and saw that it came from an ensign of the bridge crew. The man looked up at him with a slight look of terror in his eyes, and a quiver in his voice. "Do you think they'll come back?"
Harrison eyed the man for a moment, seeing his fear. He looked around the bridge to see that the question had garnered the attention of everyone else on the bridge, who were all looking at him with varying versions of the same look on their faces.
"No." he said out loud, causing everyone to sigh in relief. "I know they'll be back." he added, causing everyone to once more look at him with fear. "But no matter what they send, we'll be here to meet them, and we'll do what we can." he finished. Everyone seemed to absorb those words, nodding. Harrison nodded as well. Even though they were all scared, even he was a little scared if he had to be honest, the would do their duty. Even if worse came to worse.
A/N: Thanks for reading and, as always, thanks to those who review, follow and favorite my story.
I feel that the end of this chapter might be a little weak, maybe it's just me, but tell me what you think.
Next chapter will be the beginning of the invasion of Shanxi I think, but we'll see how it goes.
P.S. I proofread this somewhat, but I'm a little pressed for time and wanted to get this out now when I had the chance, but I'll come back and do a better job when I have the chance, so please forgive any spelling/grammar errors. Thank you.
