Chapter Thirty Six

Commander John Andreas brought his ship to reception distance. They were calling in their After Action Report to COMPACFLT. He stood outside on the deck with the XO, the Weapons Officer, and the Communications Officer. It was a star filled night, brutally cold, but Andreas was certain his men had never felt warmer.

After sharing the good news with the Admiral, Andreas lifted his voice. "Gentlemen, let's get get this down to one hundred meters and break out the medicinal brandy. As morale officer, I'm concerned about the crew's well being in these arctic climes. But before that, I want you to take in a deep breath and remember this day. I'm unsure if there ever was or ever will be a ship as busy as we've been in the past twenty four hours or so. If we carried it, we launched it. It came near us, we killed it. I'm proud of each and every one of you."

The men shouted their agreement, then Andreas noticed both photonic masts were up and the BRA-34 antenna was extended.

Worse- the running lights were on. His grin faded. Someone would catch holy hell for that.

"XO, we have a problem!"

The Pave Hawk had transported Sergeant Ray Harper, his Marines, Prizz, and Lieutenant Colonel Gaz Membrane back to Fort McMurray, where Harper received treatment for his wounds at a field hospital. He sat up in bed, warmed by the portable heater and sipping on a cup of strong coffee inside the rickety tent.

His wounds were minor, one bolt in each leg, and the leftover fragment needles launched with the super heated material had been removed. In a few weeks- and with a little physical therapy- he'd be back on his feet. Tristan, Szymanski, Fritz, and Gis had come by to see him, but strangely, Sergeant Reilly Scott had not, and the others had not seen him in the past hour.

But then, finally, the Sergeant came hopping down the long aisle of beds, holding a small plastic bag. "Here," He said with a bright smile. "Souvenirs. The needles that were in your legs. Took me a while, but I got them for you."

Sergeant Harper examined the two, inch long, nail thick, heat resistant, razor sharp titanium needles. "Uh, thanks. Maybe I'll make a necklace."

"Really?" Scott Grimaced.

"No, you idiot."

Scott thought a moment, then finally chuckled. "Sergeant, I just wanted to thank you for the opportunity to prove myself."

"You're thanking me for getting shot?"

Scott shrugged. "I guess so."

Harper widened his eyes in mock seriousness. "Well, I hope I can return the favor."

"That's okay."

Just then Gaz, who'd changed into a spare Marine Corps uniform with heavy jacket, approached the bed. "How're you doing?"

Harper smiled. "Better, thanks."

"How are you doing?" Asked Scott.

She shivered. "Finally thawed out."

Harper gave Scott a look: Go!

But the guy didn't get it.

"Did you see the Irken when we left him?" Scott asked her. "That guy cracked me up. He was all smiles. Never seen a POW so happy."

Harper raised his voice. "Sergeant, you mind if I talk with the Colonel?"

"Oh, yeah, oh, okay. Be good, man. See you later." Off he went, with a little hip hop rhythm in his gait.

"He's a character," Said Gaz.

"He's like a new pair of dress shoes. Stiff and squeaky. But he's doing better than I thought he would."

"I just came to tell you that you should expect a phone call. And this one you don't want to miss."

"Oh, yeah?"

"American Eagle wants to thank you."

"No kidding?"

"Yep. I have no idea why he's made such a big deal of this, but when it comes to politicians, you never know what they're thinking." Her tone grew cynical. "Maybe we're symbols of the American spirit."

"Don't sell us too short. Maybe we are."

"That works well for your ego, huh?"

"And yours, too."

She proffered her hand. "Well, thank you. I mean it. I hope we can stay in touch."

He took her hand, shook firmly. "I hope so, too. Do fighter pilots ever date Marines?"

She grinned, turned away, then glanced back over her shoulder and said, "Only the cute ones."

Staff Sergeant Dib Membrane had been evaced back to Grand Prairie, and the nurses were applying the cast to his left leg when he got the call from Sergeant Dax Rarik's Vehicle Commander, Sergeant Carlton. Twenty minutes earlier Dib had tried to call Rarik, who wasn't answering his cell. Then Dib had put a call in to Carlton, whose number he also kept in case of emergencies.

In a somber tone, the Sergeant described how Rarik had saved the entire NEST team through his selfless act of courage. And Dib just lay there, listening to the Sergeant call his name over and over- because he just couldn't respond to the news he was told for a few seconds. "Yeah, I'm here. Thanks, Tim. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Dib, I'm giving this to you for two reasons: first, if one of us is going to make it, it's going to be you."

Dib reached into his pocket and withdrew Dax's balisong. He clutched the knife in his fist and closed his eyes.

You knew it all along, didn't you, Dax. And you knew it was worth it. You didn't have any doubts. Not a one.

"We've still heard nothing from Irk or any other forward operating base's," Said General Kenedy.

President Becerra leaned back in his chair aboard Air Force One and nodded. "I didn't think we would."

"They are, however, beginning to withdraw their forces from Alberta, all around the globe, and rallying on one position, in Russia, and heading back for Mars to withdraw to Irk. For the most part."

"Good."

"Yes, sir, but it'll still take months to flush out all the Special Operations units. And who knows how many spies could have infiltrated the area."

"Understood. We'll work with Emerson to address that issue and the reconstruction issues. I suspect he'll be quite upset over the highway and the bridge."

He winced. "Oh, yes, sir. I'll update you again in one hour."

"Thank you, General. Now I need to call a very skilled Marine Corps Sergeant who got our pilot out."

"He'll appreciate that, sir."

Recently promoted Chieftain Major General of the Irken Empire Tak massaged her large violet eyes as she sat in the tower of which Purple and Red resigned in.

"It's confirmed," Said Red, his cheeks growing fiery red as he turned away from his computer screen. "The Ish'brod has been destroyed."

Tak shook her head. "She had a deal with her brother, and that fool got himself killed."

"She needs to join him in death. I don't care how many agents you employ. I want her found. And if they can't capture her, they should kill her. Do you understand, Chieftain Major General?"

"Completely. They'll return the body to me. I want to look into her dead eyes and be sure."

Purple glanced toward a pair of screen, began tapping away on his touch keyboard. "Now, there are other ways to gain control of those reserves and that planet. Has Knott called you back?"

"Just two hours ago."

Commander First Rank Invader Knott, AKA William Bullard, was an Irken mole and a member of the Canadian Parliament.

"How much monies and time will it take?"

"He's not sure yet, but Prime Minister Emerson's handling of our invasion has been very unpopular. I'm confident that Mr. Bullard will one day... And one day soon, become the next Prime Minister of Canada. But as we discussed, this is the much slower, perhaps even more expensive route."

Red nodded slowly. "Well, General, we'll leave you to your interrogations."

Tak nodded and dragged herself from the chair. The conversation could have been handled via video phone, but Red and Purple wanted to punish Tak for the Alberta debacle and force her down to command posts. Moreover, they had ordered every employee of the IMID be tested for loyalty- including Tak herself. It was an act of sheer paranoia and an insult, but Tak had her orders- and she had The Empress to thank for everything. Her fingers itched to get around her throat.

At one hundred and ninety six, there weren't many things left in this universe that truly moved Chieftain Major General Tak.

War was one of them.

And revenge was another.

The early morning flight to Cuba was thankfully brief- because during the entire time Major Katrina Parsons wrung her hands and couldn't stop termbling. Her pulse raced as she was escorted through security, and by the time she reached the interrogation room, she was sweating profusely and had to excuse herself to the bathroom.

She splashed cold water over her face, glanced up in the mirror. "Be strong."

A minute later, she was escorted inside the interrogation room, where discharged Chieftain Major General Zim was waiting for her, his hands and legs shackled, head lowered.

She took a seat across from him, plopped a file she'd been carrying on the table.

His left antenna, the one not cut in half, twitched. "You smell very nice, Major."

"Look at me."

He slowly raised his head, eyes weary, face pale, almost white more than green, "Have you been crying, Major?" The General half laughing under his breath.

"No."

"Your makeup-"

"Forget my makeup. I'm going to get you out of here."

He hoisted both antenna, the color returning to his face. "Where are we going?"

"Away from here."

"I kind of like it."

"Especially the food, right?"

"All food on Earth is horrible." He grinned and glanced away. "So you've reconsidered my offer?"

"Shut up, General. Look at this."

She shoved the file toward him. He glanced down at it. "Interesting." He fake studied it from all angles, then looked up to her. "A pity I can't open it."

She'd forgotten he'd been handcuffed and rose, opened the file, then placed the photograph on the table. "This image comes from surveillance footage taken two days ago in Banff. That's in Alberta, Canada."

"N-no..."

"Yes. She's still alive, isn't she?"

The General was beginning to hyperventilate.

"Calm down. I'm getting you out of here so you can help us find her- before your friends at the IMID do. She double crossed them and the Green Brigade. She could be working for another organization more powerful than any we've encountered. General, are you listening?"

He was unresponsive, staring long and hard at the photograph, reaching out into her turquoise eyes with his own ruby ones. Eventually he looked up to her, those ruby eyes now brimming with tears. "Yes, I will help you."

Parsons called for the guards to open the door. Outside, she dialed a number on her satellite phone.

"Hello, Mr. President? He's in. And no, I didn't tell him everything. We'll take it one step at a time."

(End story)

A/N: Well, that's all she wrote folks. I hope you enjoyed reading this story as much as I did writing it. Leave a review if you'd like, and hopefully I can start writing the sequel sometime soon.