…
"We are healed of a suffering only by experiencing it to the full."
(Marcel Proust)
...
CASTLE Base, May 19th, 9:20 AM, 2185
…
The last few days had been long ones, and they felt as if they were only getting longer. Cerberus attempted no further attacks on the ship after we barely repelled their boarding attempt, and things had stayed quiet since. After the situation on Kosh had been stabilized, we thanked Captain Marrick and her marines for their help, and traveled back home to Reach to begin repairs on the Saint Luke's lower decks. The entire ship had been granted leave for the next week while she'd be under repair, and Mara and I would be working on finding out what made these new Cerberus weapons tick.
Before I could do that, though, I had to finish typing up these letters to the families of those who had died in the attack. Three of them had been Geth, meaning the Collective was already aware of their fate, but for the Raloi and Quarian members of my crew I had to tailor each letter individually based on ship, House, and other factors. These were full letters too, each printed on real paper, signed, and delivered in person by a commissioned officer of the United Confederation. After the thirteenth letter, my spirit had dropped significantly.
"Here you go, hon." Mara said, leaning over with a cup of coffee in hand, which I gladly accepted. "I put extra sugar in it this time."
"Thanks." I replied, leaning in and giving her a kiss. "I can't imagine how hard it must have been to do this on a large scale… especially back in the days where we only used typewriters."
"The idea of doing any of this without a GUI makes my head hurt." She joked, looking at the letter I had been writing for Corporal Huran'Dosa's mother and nodding. "Very heartfelt, even for you."
"Gee, thanks." I sighed, leaning both elbows against the desk and covering my face with both hands as she walked away, stopping in my doorway.
"I'll keep working on those weapons while you finish writing the letters." She informed, getting me to lazily hold up one of my hands in acknowledgement as she smiled and closed the door.
Enjoying my moment of quiet, I took a sip of the steaming hot coffee, letting its warmth roll over me for a moment before putting my hands back on the keyboard, looking for the place where I left off.
"Your son fought hard to defend the ship along his squadmates, holding the line to-" I typed out, quickly deleting it as I fought to think of something more appropriate. "Corporal Dosa fought valiantly in defense of the Saint Luke. His honorable sacrifice prevented the vessel from being seized-"
I deleted the previous line up to "prevented", not liking how it sounded.
"His honorable sacrifice ensured the survival of his squadmates and fellow crewmates." I corrected, liking that line much better as I went on. "His passing has affected all of us greatly, and the ship is lesser without him-"
I shook my head as I highlighted that last part, still feeling like it wasn't the right thing to say.
"-and my crew and I are forever indebted to him." I nodded, feeling that sounded much better. "I hope that one day, mothers such as yourself need not suffer the grief of losing their sons on the battlefield. I extend my deepest sympathies to you and your loved ones on behalf of the UCNF."
"S. L. Michaels, Admiral, UCNF" I finished typing, printing out the letter and signing my signature at the end in black ink.
I held the finished paper up for the ink to dry, looking hard at it for those few moments.
I knew nothing I could do would ever make this right, bring proper closure in a situation like this. Corporal Dosa had been ripped to shreds when a grenade went off at his feet, instantly killing him and badly injuring two members of his squad. There wasn't even enough of his body left to perform proper funeral rites with. While I knew these letters at least meant something, I couldn't help but feel a sense of emptiness reading my own written words.
Letting out a final, deep sigh, I folded up the letter and put it in a fresh envelope, sealing it and placing it in the stack with the rest. I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling as I mentally prepared to do all of this one more time.
I knew deep down this wouldn't be the last time I'd have to write letters of condolences to soon-to-be grieving families. While it would never feel right doing something like this, I knew it was my duty as their commanding officer to inform their families myself.
I'd never get used to it, and I never wanted to. Despite how I felt about all of it, I knew I really did owe them all a great deal of debt, and this was the least I could do. If writing these letters would honor their memories, than that was what I would do.
Sitting back up straight, I loaded up the format again, ready to write the next letter.
…
Three Hours Later
…
I let out a loud yawn, stretching my arms above my head as two quick pops came from my back, allowing me to slowly put my arms back down. The result of another night of restless sleep, punctuated with the occasional horrific image that popped up in my dream. This had been par for the course the last few years, but the intensity never seemed to stop increasing. Elle seemed to be having similar problems, which had forced Mara to go back home and comfort her, leaving me here by myself.
Shaking my head, I refocused myself on the new "pet project" that sat in front of me. It was one of the recovered Cerberus "Pulse Rifles" as I had decided to call it. I chose the name due to how similar the rounds in the air looked to the ones fired by the Overwatch Standard Issue Pulse Rifles from Half-Life 2. Though we were still not sure exactly how it worked, I was still amazed at what they had brought to the table here with this weapon.
The weapon was certainly a game changer. As I noticed previously when giving the rifles cursory glances back on the Saint Luke, the rifles fired 4mm rounds made of solid tungsten, with a spitzer-style shape. There was no ammo block, it was more like the bullets fired out of a conventional gun, minus the gunpowder and case. The weapons held 200 of these 4mm rounds. This was in contrast to most handheld mass accelerator rifles, which fired 2mm projectiles shaved from a solid block of tungsten stored in the gun. Based on the footage we recorded, it appeared the rounds had enough kinetic energy to pierce their way through almost all of our standard body armor, short of the Gen IV exo's thick ceramic/titanium composites.
My best guess is that the shape and size of the rounds had something to do with the plasma "sheath" the rounds were encased in. The heat produced by the sheath superheats the projectile upon contact, further adding to its penetrating power. It was almost like a combination HEAT/SABOT round in operation, burning through armor and shooting not only the plasma through, but the superheated tungsten rounds as well. It was truly a game-changer, and one we had to counter.
After first checking to make sure the weapon's chamber was clear, I started by opening the rifle's rear case, guessing that's where the assembly responsible for handling the plasma was. Sure enough, the moment I removed the cover, I saw what looked eerily similar to our plasma gun's configuration, though much smaller in size. There was a direct copy of one of our plasma canisters inside, barely even used based on its luminosity. The magnetic field generator was nestled at the rear of the gun, an odd choice at first glance before I noticed the projector had been enlarged. I pulled out the plasma cell and attached my multimeter to the projector, confirming my theory that it was indeed drawing more power than the ones we used in the plasma gun.
"Well, aren't you an interesting little piece of tech." I muttered to myself, pulling open the front over to look at the mass accelerator rails. "Very Interesting."
They weren't much different than those found in any other mass accelerator weapons, actually quite similar to the Mattock, but it was a little larger and outfitted with what appeared to be heat resistant materials. They'd have to be quite well rated to handle the intense heat of plasma traveling through it. At least, that was my original thought. Looking closer, I noticed there were actually two lines running across the length of the rails connected directly to the plasma injector.
The entire rail was designed to inject plasma along the path of the round, suspending it inside the magnetic field. That's how it withstands the heat without immediately turning into slag.
"Damn… I wish this clever bastard was on our side." I exclaimed, leaning my elbow against the table as I looked hard at all the internal components.
It would be difficult to improve on a design such as this, given the well-built nature of the platform. Ammo production would be trivial, it was a reasonable size, weight, and only had one major flaw, that being its complexity. Much like the H&K G11 from back home, it was mechanically "dense" in a sense. Servicing a weapon like this would be difficult under resting circumstances, and next to impossible if under fire. If it could be made more accessible to the average Marine, then maybe we could think of large-spread adoption.
My thoughts were interrupted as Richard walked into the lab, immediately making eye contact with me and pacing over.
"Hey, the Marines up top told me you were down here." He quickly spoke in his usual, jittery manner, bringing a smile to my face.
"I assume you have some interesting results to share with me?" I grinned, still leaning on my elbow as I spoke.
"Oh, yes!" He nodded, pulling a datapad out of his messenger bag. "Here, we've finished the full autopsies on those bodies you brought back. It would have been a little easier if they hadn't suffered such massive physical trauma, but we did our jobs."
"Most of the other bodies were either immolated or completely destroyed." I replied with a raised eyebrow, straightening myself up. "You didn't really think we were worried about collecting samples for you while our ship was being invaded, did you?"
"Please, I know I can occasionally be dim, but I'm aware other considerations must take precedence." He glared, crossing his arms. "Anyways, what we discovered here was quite interesting. These implants are completely distinct from what was used to reconstruct Commander Shepard, almost entirely different in form and function. Best I can tell, it's Reaper in origin."
"Great, as if we didn't have enough to worry about already." I shook my head, scrolling through the data and images he had taken.
"They're incredibly invasive in nature as well, still growing despite the fact that the body is no longer functioning." He nodded, leaning in and scrolling down several pages on the datapad to reveal a before and after photograph. "The implants slowly drain nutrients and water from the body, using it to produce the needed connections until there's nothing left but a hollow shell. We don't know if this is due to the subjects being dead, or if happens regardless."
"They aren't going to turn into those husks, are they?" I cut in, giving him a worried look.
"It's funny you mention that, the… hrm." He stopped himself, putting his hand against his chin and mouth in sudden regret.
"They're still alive?!" I blurted out in shock, getting Richard to take a step back.
"Oh no no no, not still alive." He corrected, holding his hands out. "After our autopsy had concluded, we observed the implants attempting to manipulate the bodies independently from the original nervous system, though they failed after several minutes of operation."
"Failed? Any theories as to why?" I questioned, leaning forward out of genuine curiosity.
"We monitored the bodies for Reaper signals the entire time we operated on them; as a standard precaution of course, but we detected no Reaper signals that would… influence or communicate with these implants." He explained as best he could, obviously operating with very little concrete information. "I have two theories. Either the implants can only function properly with a living host, or these soldiers have been exposed to a Reaper signal."
"But you detected no signals." I pointed out, getting him to nod furiously. "We didn't detect any while we were in orbit, either."
"That's the interesting thing." He remarked, walking to the other side of the table. "I believe these particular implants and their operation are sustained by a Reaper signal AND a living, indoctrinated individual, but atrophy when the connection is severed or too far to maintain."
"Wait, so is the signal the vital part, or the living individual?" I asked, still not quite sure what he was getting at.
"I… don't know." He answered honestly, looking more disappointed than anything else. "This level of tech is still new to me, and I barely have a basic understanding of how these Reapers signals operate."
"Functions then?" I moved on, knowing there was no point in prodding further if he didn't have any more useful information.
"Oh, uh… increased strength, endurance, much more resistance to toxins and harsh atmospheres." He spouted off from memory. "It's all there in my report."
I nodded, leaning forward with both elbows on the table as I tented my fingers.
"So… first the QECs, now this." I mumbled, closing my eyes and letting out a long exhale. "This is just par for the course these days, I suppose."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Richard asked, getting me to look up at him.
"It means no matter what we seem to do, these assholes always seem to have something that catches us off-guard, warping our perceptions at every turn." I complained, folding my hands together as I rocked back slightly. "They now have specialized stealth vessels, boarding pods, advanced armor and weapons, and these cybernetics. The question now is what their end goal is."
"I'm sorry, but I couldn't tell you." He shook his head, getting me to roll my eyes as a look of apprehension crossed onto his face. "There's only one more thing you should know, something I left out of the official report."
"What's that?" I immediately asked, once more worried.
"Among all the other tests, Minkeo ran routine DNA scans to check for any signs of gene therapy. She specializes in it and the vectors Cerberus utilize, so she was the best choice." He explained, squinting his eyes quickly for a second as he held his hands in front of him. "She discovered something… disturbing. The tests identified one of the soldiers as Alliance Private Eli Koss from the 43rd Infantry Regiment, and the other two as colonists reported missing from those colonies attacked by Cerberus. Melvin Cole and Kevin Ward."
"Jesus." I exclaimed, immediately understanding what he was getting at.
"I believe Cerberus is abducting these people and brainwashing them, either through these implants or transcranial magnetic stimulation. There's evidence to suggest both methods may have been used." He continued, sounding rather shaky. "As a medical practitioner, it... disturbs me to imagine doing something this needlessly cruel and evil to innocent people. It's simply barbaric."
"That's why they risked their lives the way they did." I realized, all of their actions finally making sense. "These aren't just random attacks on the colonies, they're scooping up people to turn into cannon fodder, shock troops with no personal value to the organization itself. My God…"
"Do you want me to revise my original report to include this information?" He inquired, leaning to the side to get a better look at me.
"No. No, you were right to keep this out of the original report." I shook my head, standing up and handing the datapad back to him. "This doesn't need to be disseminated among the rank-and-file soldiers, it may cause them to hesitate when the time to fight comes again. Make a revised copy, but limit it to the intelligence and command channels, strictly confidential."
"I'll do that now." He nodded, turning on his heel and walking back towards the door, disappearing from my sight.
One thing was certain here, and it was that Cerberus had managed to become an even greater threat than I could have possibly imagined. We knew they must have been experimenting with Reaper tech, but this went far beyond anything we could have predicted.
Either The Illusive Man was trying to forcibly elevate humanity into something stronger in a desperate attempt to save our species from the Reapers, or something far worse than I could even fathom was happening.
Knowing our luck when it came to these sorts of situations, I suspected the latter.
…
UCV Hourdas, May 20th, 11:51 AM, 2185
...
"In here, we've had the crew arrange all the pieces that were recovered." Johnathan Sadler explained with his slight-but-noticeable "Kiwi" accent as I followed him into the large cargo bay of the Hourdas, an old Salarian ice hauler that had been "refit" into a Quarian recovery vessel. James Watterson, the most reclusive of Nathan Sterling's old group, following closely behind us, carrying a box that had yet to be opened.
Seeing these two so soon after the attack on my ship brought back painful memories of Arcturus Station, specifically the mental images of seeing Nathan and Luciano's bloodied bodies lying on the floors of their prison cells. Despite my obvious misgivings about them at the time, their deaths had hit me very hard, and every time I saw any of them I was reminded of that day. Both of them wanted nothing more than to get away from Cerberus, and they died trying to escape their clutches.
Snapping back to reality, I stood on a gantry above the sealed cargo bay, getting a good look at these pieces they had put together down here.
Below us were the remains of the Cerberus stealth vessel recovered from the space around Kosh. It was very small, similar in size to the Galleon-class, but more cylindrical and long in shape. Well, at least it used to be cylinder shaped. After being torn into by the Saint Luke's 406mm guns, it had been reduced to three separate pieces, one of which there was barely anything left of.
"Interesting… this was as much as you could find?" I asked, crossing my arms as I made mental notes of the design.
"To be entirely honest, I was surprised we managed to recover this much." Johnathan joked, leaning against the railing and looking down at the wreckage. "The planet's gravity well started pulling much of the debris into the upper atmosphere. If the ship hadn't been moving so fast when you destroyed it, all of it certainly would have burned up."
"So I suppose we're fortunate." I nodded, noticing the segmented, hexagon-shaped panels that covered the outside surfaces of the vessel. "Are those the stealth plates you mentioned?"
"Yeah, they're all over the ship." He answered, turning to Watterson who removed the lid on the box, handing me a small sample of the material. "It's quite interesting. In some ways it's similar to the composite panels on the Phantom-class ships, but these are built much differently."
"It's a nano-fiber composite, far more effective than what any of us currently utilize. The outer layer is especially shielded against radiation." Watterson explained, pointing at the margins in-between the sample. "It seems likely that it was engineered with the intent to "curve" teraherz scans, making it appear as if there is nothing there at all; at least until it was very close."
"Uh… based on the records we recovered from the navigational computer, it looks like they burned their engines nearly half an hour before their attack, drifting the rest of the way on minimal power." Johnathan jumped in the moment Watterson had finished speaking, rubbing his hands together.
"Crafty bastards, they took advantage of our defensive posture to sneak up on us." I acknowledged, pinching my bottom lip while keeping my other arm folded. "What about those boarding pods? What did you learn about them?"
"They're pretty simple in retrospect. Lightly armored, no life support, and making exclusive use of maneuvering thrusters. They were fired from the "mothership" with explosives, of which some residue can still be seen." Johnathan went on, opening up a rough schematic of the pods in question on his omni-tool. "They latch on with magnetic clamps, and burn through the hull with high-intensity plasma torches, creating an airtight seal."
I shook my head as I examined the design, still unable to believe they had grown this crafty.
"Are there any recorded instances of someone attempting a tactic like this before?" I questioned out loud, causing Watterson and Johnathan to give each other confused looks.
"Uh, not in a conventional military scenario, no." Watterson answered, still looking a little worried. "There are a few rare instances where pirates have made use of similar, though improvised, vessels to breach unarmed cargo haulers or passenger liners, though nothing of the sort has even been attempted against a warship like the Saint Luke."
"Can we replicate this stealth plating?" I jumped ahead, turning to face both of them. "And better yet, is there a way we can properly counter it?"
"Yes, we can replicate it. Can we counter it? No, at least we can't." Johnathan replied, folding his arms. "Scanners, radar, and telemetry aren't really our specialty. If there's any weakness in this new material, someone else is gonna have to find it."
"Hm… I'll take this sample to Dan and Dimitri, see what they can do with it." I mumbled, putting it back in the box. "I have an idea I've been cooking up in my free time for the last few months, and I think this might be the time to finally start working on it."
"What kind of idea?" Johnathan asked, looking interested, but cautious.
"One that'll test the limits of our engineering skills." I smirked, opening my omni-tool to reveal my basic design for a SUSTAIN pod, short for Small Unit Space Transport And INsertion.
The name was based off an old United States Space Force concept that never really got off the ground. It was actually quite funny thinking about it now, Dan and I were actually invited to work on the program during our time at Area 51, but we were too focused on our SDD research at the time to contribute anything useful.
Like with the ODPs, Halo was the obvious source of my "base" inspiration. The design I drafted was nearly identical to the SOEIVs the Orbital Drop Shock Troopers used in the games, particularly Halo 2's design. These pods would be capable, in theory, of delivering a single armed soldier to the surface of a planet quickly and in relative safety, allowing them to insert into areas where dropships would be too risky. Deployed in groups, these pods could easily overwhelm enemy positions or covertly deploy forces behind their lines.
Unfortunately, there were a few design problems I hadn't been able to overcome by myself. There needed to be a special ablative ceramic skin to protect the occupant from the heat and friction of atmospheric entry, and the "cage" the pod was built around needed to maintain structural integrity both in-flight and on impact. While these problems could be mitigated somewhat, I hadn't been able to find any concrete solutions to these two pressing issues.
"Dimitri was right, you are insane." Johnathan smiled, shaking his head. "Still, it's a solid idea. I could probably find a suitable ceramic skin, but this structural cage will need to be heavily reinforced, likely redesigned."
"If it needs to be done, then do it." I nodded, forwarding him a copy of the design. "It's only a side project for now, so don't let it distract you from that down there."
"That shouldn't be a problem." He confirmed, looking back down at the deck below us.
"May I make a suggestion?" Watterson spoke up, getting both of us to turn towards him. "I noticed the molecular pattern of the stealth plating also has excellent heat resistance. Perhaps it can be used in the construction of these "drop pods" of yours."
"That's actually a good point… maybe Cerberus just helped us kill two birds with one stone." Johnathan grinned, looking up at me as he infected me with his enthusiasm.
"Maybe… who knows." I smiled, another fleeting thought popping through my brain. "Oh, before I forget, was there anything else you managed to recover from the navigational computer?"
"Yeah, uh… not much, though." Watterson quickly acknowledged, pulling an OSD out of his pocket and handing it to me. "Looks like they attempted a full wipe of the computer the moment they were targeted, and most of the data is gone. There were a few bits and pieces we managed to recover, but it's… patchy at best."
"Anything particularly interesting?" I prodded further, slipping the drive into one of my pockets.
"There were some coordinates that pointed to the Styx Theta Cluster, but nothing more specific than that." He remarked in a disappointed tone, obviously annoyed that he couldn't tell me more.
"Hey, at least it's something to go on." I nodded, taking the box from him and putting it under my arm. "Anyways, I need to get back to CASTLE Base. Thanks for the information, let me know if you guys need any help or come across anything else interesting."
"You got it." Johnathan agreed as I gave him and Watterson handshakes.
As I walked back off to the shuttle, I couldn't help but feel relieved that we were finally starting to understand what Cerberus had turned into. All of this, the new technology, tactics, and… recruitment methods, all pointed to a major shift in their organization, and one we needed to understand. We couldn't afford to fight a war on two fronts, it would spread the Confederation too thin, and strain our ability to react to threats efficiently. I knew one thing, and one thing only.
It was a painful fact. We still weren't ready to fight the Reapers on an even playing field. However, knowing what we did now, we had the potential to finally rid ourselves of Cerberus and the threat they posed. It wouldn't be an easy process, and there will always be losses, but if we could destroy or severely weaken Cerberus to the point where they wouldn't be able to obstruct us anymore, it would be worth it.
I knew what our next course of action would be.
…
Cairo Station, May 22nd, 3:28 PM, 2185
…
Walking down the cradle arm from Cairo Station into the Phantom-class frigate Ysbryd, I felt a familiar sense of apprehension crawl along my back, knowing what I was about to set into motion. I had discussed and disseminated the information recovered from the Cerberus vessel, and the decision had been made to recall the Ysbryd from long-range patrol duty and assign them a new mission, one I was going to deliver in person.
I was well aware of the risks that they'd go through on a mission like this, but we knew we had to press the only advantage we had before it dried up, leaving us in the dark again.
"Attention, this is Admiral Michaels requesting permission to board your vessel." I spoke into the wall panel, the airlock doors sliding open a second later. "Thank you."
I stepped inside, putting on my mask and sealing it since this was still an entirely Quarian-crewed vessel. The decon mist sprayed me down as I was left with my own thoughts.
Mara and I had successfully broken down and rebuilt all the Pulse Rifles we recovered from the Cerberus attack, and made our own copy with improved ballistics and better plasma consumption. The rifles still needed to be tested and prepared for full-scale production, but luckily we'd have a few crates of them ready for when the Saint Luke was out of drydock.
As for the remains of the stealth ship, it would take awhile before we could properly reproduce the plating on a large enough scale to make proper use of it, so instead we were working on a proper countermeasure. Dan in particular was quite annoyed that he had to go back to the drawing board on his TL designs, but in the end I trusted him and Dimitri to get the ball rolling in the right direction.
As the decon cycle finally finished, the door slid open revealing Captain Roho'Iwin vas Ysbryd. He stood with his arms crossed, immediately putting me on mental guard.
"It's a pleasure to finally meet you, Captain." I greeted with a handshake, which he slowly accepted.
"Welcome to the Ysbryd, my ship." He greeted in a nonchalant tone, obviously peeved about something. "Come, we can talk in private back here."
"Alright then." I agreed, not wanting to "provoke" him in any way.
Once we had reached the briefing room, he closed the door and immediately turned to face me.
"Sir, permission to speak freely?" He asked without missing a beat, holding himself at full attention.
"Granted." I nodded, knowing I wasn't likely to enjoy whatever was coming.
"Why the hell were we recalled from our assignment to come back here on such short notice?" He inquired with obvious anger and frustration. "We felt we were going a fine enough job, so I'm frankly at a loss as to why this was necessary."
"Well, I'll tell you since you asked so nicely." I sighed, sitting down at the table as he did the same across from me. "With the exception of the Normandy, you and your crew are the only ones who have experienced live combat, making the Ysbryd the most qualified Phantom-class for any high-importance missions."
"I understand our vessel is capable of a wider… range of assignments, but I thought patrolling our borders was one of the most important concerns we had at the moment." He shook his head, the reality of the situation still not fully kicking in.
"Before this very moment, you would have been correct." I pointed out, opening my omni-tool and projecting a hologram of the Styx Theta Cluster between us. "We've recently come across partial intelligence pointing towards a Cerberus base or station somewhere here in the Styx Theta Cluster. We want you to perform full recon sweeps of all the planets in the cluster, then report back with any findings. You will be using stealth exclusively, and above all else, must avoid detection."
"You don't have an exact location?" He questioned, once again confused.
"No, the data we recovered could only point us to this general area." I replied, highlighting the two main systems in the cluster. "If you discover definitive proof of Cerberus activity, you are to leave the area and immediately report back to us so we can send a battlegroup."
"Seems like a bit of a longshot… but I suppose orders are orders." He sighed out loud, finally pulling my last good nerve.
"Captain, stand up." I ordered in my own annoyed tone, tired of his attitude.
"What?" He replied, sounding surprised.
"You heard me, I said stand up!" I turned into a yell, standing up and staring down at him as he slowly obeyed my command. "If you've got a problem with me or my orders, Captain, now's the time to clue me in."
For a few moments he stood there, staring at me as I held my stance.
"No problems, sir." He finally acknowledged, standing at full attention. "I… apologize for my misconduct."
"Good. You're scheduled to depart at 1800. Brief your crew and make sure your supplies are fully stocked." I finished, closing my omni-tool as new thoughts entered my head. "I realize you're not a fan of this Confederation. I'm not asking for you to like me or be my friend, I just want my orders obeyed. Am I understood?"
"Yes'sir." He saluted, finally giving me the response I wanted to hear.
As I turned around and opened the door, I felt a sense of satisfaction with how I handled that small situation, knowing that it always could have gone far worse.
Besides, if this was going to work, I'd need him to do his job as well as possible.
…
A/N: Well, we've reached that point again where I upload a chapter and force you all to listen to my ramblings for a while. Considering most of you are still here and have been leaving nice, helpful reviews, I assume I'm still doing something right. As usual, I'm not sure when the next chapter will come out, but expect something a little more exciting next time around. It'll start getting pretty busy soon enough, just you wait.
As always, I'm always up for suggestions or constructive criticism. Please leave a review telling me what you think of the story so far, and stay tuned!