'Ello 'ello. Huge thanks to Foxmerc to taking up the beta reader spot for this story. The introductions for main characters are done, so the plot can finally start. If you liked Amy Lombardi, you're in luck. You're about to see a lot more of her.
I hope you've read one of Foxmerc's stories, because you need to know who Dagger is. Hell, this is practically becoming a Merc Wars fanfiction. A fanfiction of a fanfiction... fuck me!
Enjoy the show, and thanks for reading.
Chapter Five: Red Skies at Morning
"Life consists not of holding good cards, but playing those you hold well."
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Two Years after Amy's Navy Enlistment
Thursday, September 12th, 40 PLW
Cornerian Navy Orbital Shipyard Station Bravo
1341 Hours
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Between classes and spending time in the different scenario simulations, two thirds of my time as a University student went by in a flash. Since there hadn't been a war in two decades, policies on ship staffing were pretty lax, and thus there were "hands on" placements available involving classes getting assignments aboard ships of the line. As a promise from the brass, the top honors class would get to be the first crew aboard the new Rose class destroyer, and the top marked student would get to name it and command it for a couple of light duty missions. It was a pretty amazing opportunity considering that one usually doesn't command a ship until like, ten years of service... even if it was only a test run under extreme scrutiny.
The Rose class was the first of it's generation, and the first Cornerian vessel to use G-Diffusion technology as part of it's propulsion and defense systems, offering unrivaled maneuvering agility. The G-Diffuser also allowed a new kind of defense weapon; the Gravity Repulsor Beam Cannon, or the affectionately named "Gravity Gun". The G-Gun was capable of doing anything from completely redirecting any physical object, not limited to missiles and fighters, or even "pushing off" of in place objects such as large asteroids or larger ships. When the G-Gun is deployed in a very, very wide frequency it can create a gravitic field several kilometers in diameter that can act as an artificial gravitiy well, stopping ships from entering subspace. It can even disrupt open portals, cutting ships that are only part-way through it in half.
Basically, if this thing caught a ship with it's pants down, there was no running away. Our class won the honor of taking this ship out on it's first trip out of dock... but as far as our class went, I got second place. Fuck. I was that close to being the Captain.
At least I still got to be the executive officer. The guy that got top was a yellow labrador by the name of Henry Yale. He was smart, and devilishly efficient when it came to command tactics in the sims. I gave up trying to pass him a long time ago, and would even ask him for tips from time to time. As much as I wished for the top spot, he definitely deserved it more than I did. I would settle for second if it meant being under his command. I didn't believe him when he said he didn't come from a long line of legendary Navy commanders. He was a bit of a dickhead, though. He liked rubbing his superiorty in people's faces.
I asked him if he was taking suggestions for naming the ship, but he said he had something special already in mind. I hoped to the Creator it was something good.
Most of the class and the experienced "supervisor" crew were already on the ship preparing for her maiden voyage. As was tradition, the bridge officers and other department chiefs would board the ship only after it was ready to go; warriors coming to claim their freshly tempered weapon, so to speak. There were two shuttles. The first shuttle held the experienced crew executives. I was in a shuttle with the rest of the cadet bridge crew: with Yale of course, a hyena dude named Jesse Devrin who was to be our tactical officer, a black panther named Tyler Jereco on helm, an ocelot woman named Kristine "Krissy" McDonald as chief medical officer, and a sparrow girl by the name of Linda Grace on comms. All of us were in our bridge officer uniforms; a red vest with a golden trim running horizontally abreast, with matching red pants and dress shoes. The proud Cornerian Navy emblem was tapered onto the vest's shoulders with our onboard ranks below them. All of us were officially cadets, signified by a white "C" where the golden rank bars would usually go. However, as long as we were on mission, Yale was to be called Captain, and I was to be called Commander. We each had silver versions of the normally gold rank bars.
Commander Lombardi. It had a nice ring to it.
The shuttle pierced the outer barrier of the Cornerian atmosphere and we were plunged into an ocean of stars. To my frustration, we didn't have access to the cockpit to see in front of the shuttle, so we were stuck waiting for a visual angle on our ship. They say that's the best moment of a fledging officer's career; the first gaze at the hull of their first ship. Second place is looking at your first command. Yale got screwed on that deal, in my opinion. He had both of those times squashed into one.
Out of all of us, Tyler looked the most jittery. This was his first time in actual space, let alone on a ship of the line. Although, in the sims, he was a damn good pilot... so I couldn't complain about his lack of experience with the real thing. I was pretty new to the idea of being an X/O, too, so I could relate. He was a timid guy who spent most of his time studying navigation and star ship control. If he wasn't using the school facilities, he was running cheap sims off of his computer back at the dorms. He was a cutey, through and through. His eyes almost looked dilated in awe as he watched out the small circular window. He spoke the first words since we broke through atmosphere. "You guys nervous?"
The avian Linda Dorin shuffled from her own seat to the one next to Tyler, so she could get a view out of the same window. She was a bit more outgoing, which was fitting for a communications officer. She knew every Lylatian language like the back of her hand, and if I didn't know she was born and raised in Corneria City I would never have been able to guess where she was from. She could practically change accents at will, and she liked to show that ability off at every chance. Annoyingly confident in her abilities she may be, but she had a lot of initiative and would always try to help in whatever way she could even if she wasn't called upon. She looked out to the stars with a frown. "It wouldn't so bad without all of the damn media grunts fluttering around. It's like they've never seen a ship leave port before."
Krissy McDonald the ocelot was absently staring out of her own window. Like I mentioned earlier, she was the chief medical officer. She liked to act like she wasn't at the top of the food chain, but she definitely was. A genius in an assassins body... an unerving mixture considering her occupation. She's the kind of girl who prefers an autopsy over dealing with live patients simply because they annoyed her less, but she had her doctorates in Medicine, Kineseology and General Surgery. Needless to say, with all of that medical training, she was the oldest of us at the age of thirty-one. There was no one else in our school - hell, maybe even the whole fleet - I would trust more with the health of our crew. She nodded in agreement, sitting alone at the back corner of the shuttle gazing out at our view of Corneria below us. "Yeah, I hear that. There's enough pressure on us as it is with the brass breathing down our necks..."
As usual, Yale always knew what to say. He was being his usual tough guy self, head bowed in respect to his station with his arms crossed. "This mission is wrought by symbolism. We are the vanguard of a new generation of officers in a new line of ship designs. The last forty-odd years have been a maelstrom of panic and have left the people in a state of paranoia. With the promise of ships like the Rose-class in space, constantly vigilant on our borders, the people finally feel the safety that comes with the knowledge of advanced warships sailing the stars to make sure they can sleep soundly."
A speech like that would normally have silenced a petty conversation like that, but the hyena Jesse always had to have the last word. He was a loudmouth, cocky, arrogant bastard but he earned most of his self praise. Everyone knows he became a tactical officer because he liked being the one to pull the trigger on guns the size of classrooms, but no one complains because he can hit a dime with any of them. He was always the first person people would run to when they needed a tactical officer for their command exam simulations. That, and he was incredibly loyal. A jerk he may be, but he was one of my closer friends. Maybe because we're both from Kew, and maybe becauase we both were raised in a criminal environment. It just kinda made me squirm every time I realized how similar he was to that psycho Karen... but at least Jesse had a sense of honor. "Yeah, that's deep and all, but the Rose class isn't even that strong of a ship... it's only a destroyer which they're crewing with a bunch of undergrads. You would think they'd put more effort into a battleship or some other capital. Did I mention that the CNJ Indignation is still fluttering around? I dare someone to attack that behemoth."
Yale looked up to his tactical officer. "Bragging about that ship only reminds everyone that it was Venomian built... it reminds them that the enemies of Corneria have access to the technology and resources to create something so devastating. It may be in our control now, but unless we show them that we can develop just as capable war machines, people won't be able to rest easy."
"Heh, like the Rose would ever stand up to a Juggernaught. Right."
I shook my head. "Jesse, you need to learn when to shut up. Would you rather be stuck in the classrooms? We worked hard to get this chance. We're not even done school and we get our own ship. How cool is that?"
"Heh, like it's actually ours. We're practically being recorded while we sleep, and there's a whole bunch of people that out rank us running around making sure we don't do anything they don't want us to. It's not so much a command as it is a puppet show. I'd prefer the sims any day."
Tyler spoke up again, pointing excitedly out the window. "Hey, guys! Look! We have an angle on the Rose!"
Even Yale bounced to the seats at the other side of the shuttle to look out the window. I took the seat beside him, peering out at the lone, skeletal shipyard and the ship hovering in the ribcage-like station.
She wasn't big, but I didn't expect big. It looked like a triangular passenger ship with three thrusters (two smaller ones to the left and right of a larger one) sticking out of the back. At the left and right points of the triangle section were what looked like thin and long wings with two swiveling, cylindrical thrusters on each tip. The "flat" sides of the triangular section bulged out into a sleek, aerodynamic curve widening up to the back of the ship. On the top was a beam cannon in the center just behind the bridge (which was signified with a small, coin-like bulge on the otherwise sleek surface) , a flak gun to either side of that, and two pulse turrets along the edges leading up to the front point. As we flew closer, I noticed the exact same armaments on the bottom side as well. Two beam cannons weren't going to turn the tide of a battle, but they were still formidable weapons capable of doing a hell of a lot of damage in the right hands. Everything else was mostly for point-blank defense against fighters and missiles, but the pulse lasers could also be used for surgical targeting on unshielded targets. I didn't notice any obvious missile bays, which didn't surprise me, but there should have been at least a few torpedo bays for that extra anti-capital punch. I also noticed the little spotlight-like contraption that was the Gravity Gun sticking off the bow tip. I wasn't too concerned about weapons though... I doubted that we would be getting into combat.
"She's beautiful..." Linda breathed. As though to give us a joyride view of the illustrious vessel, the shuttle made a pass over it's bridge close enough so that we could make out the individual windows with the naked eye. Then I noticed it... the big black lettering across the front of the ship.
ND – 6201A – C.N.S. ANGEL
Rage built up within me immediately like a kettle boiling over as I glared at the lettering. "Yale, you named it the Angel?"
He grinned at me like he thought he was the smartest son of a bitch in Lylat. "I thought it was fitting. Like I said, this is a christening of symbolism; the people looking up to the skies for their mythical protector. What more fitting a name than a religious symbol?"
I could have slapped the prick. I settled with hissing at him angrily. "Bull shit. You did it because you knew I would hate it, and you're rubbing your command in my face. You gave the ship my middle name! You know I hate that! It's a full out pun!" As though to show off my point, I flapped my wings forcefully in his direction, blowing his fur around in the wind. I could pump them hard enough to knock an unsuspecting target onto his ass. I was almost tempted to wait until his interview with the press then do it.
His grin changed, betraying his intentions for mischief. "A little from column A, a little from column B." I knew he wasn't as chivalrous as he liked to show off. Son of a bitch. "But the fact remains, that's the name now. Already registered. Get used to it."
"You're so lucky I didn't get command. To compare it to you, I would have had to name it the festering corpse."
Jesse laughed at our exchange. "Jeez, you two fight like an old married couple."
"Shut up!" I hissed at him.
"Yes, Commander."
I ignored his sarcastic tone, offering another annoyed glare at Yale as the shuttle slowed down to dock with the Angel. Despite my outburst he seemed just as confident with his stance as before, so I gave up. A hiss emitted from the back of the shuttle as the docking seal repressurized. The six of us hastily lined up in front of the door... god knows there was going to be a media nightmare waiting for us at the other side.
Yale tried to be reassuring. "Just keep your happy faces on. Show them that we're professionals worthy of their trust."
I tried to mat down my hair to make sure it was camera worthy, even though I spent almost an hour this morning making sure I was in top visual shape. I could yell at Henry later.
We walked through the doorway in single file, and were immediately awash with irritating camera flashes and an outburst of interrogative chattering. Representatives from every major media company must have been compressed into the hallway. Two marines that were standing guard at the airlock were politely asking people to step aside and let us through. When my eyes recovered from the flashes I swiveled my head around taking in the scenery of the ship's construction. Rather than the sterile white, rectangular cooridors that I was used from other ships of the line in simulations, this ship's hallways were all arounded, and a darker blue/purple. It reminded me of some crazy alien ship from a science fiction novel; most of the lighting came from these...veins... of light that were networked through the middle of the ceiling. I had a hunch that they also doubled as power or data lines... incredible in either case.
As we approached the center of the ship, the hallway fed into a large central chamber that looked like a social atrium; looking around and noticing the serving counters at the stern end of the room I guessed that it must have been the galley. This room was far better lit, making the walls look more of a metallic cyan colour. The media scrubs followed us in; and judging by the yellow tape at every other hallway, this was where we were supposed to let them bug the shit out of us with obvious questions.
To my relief, most were surrounding Yale, but I got my fair share of attention, I was barely out of the hallway before some hedgehog guy cut me off and raised a microphone to his face, an eager holocameraman standing behind him.
"Ms. Lombardi, a moment of your time, please!" He didn't pass me the microphone, so I just nodded, and he continued. "Many viewers have expressed their interest in your motives involving joining the Navy, considering you were raised in the business of your father, the famous Falco Lombardi. What drove you to make such a radical change in lifestyle?" he pointed the microphone at me.
The question caught me off guard. I guess in my time there I forgot that some eyes might be on me just for the fact that I'm the daughter of a famous war hero. I always figured everyone had forgotten about him in the times of peace. On the other hand, why were they asking me this here? I suppose all of the ship-related questions would be either with Yale or the brass. I maintained my warm professional smile and improvised. "Well, the life of a mercenary isn't for everyone. Working for my dad certainly had it's perks, but when push came to shove it was time to look for a different career. I was raised a fighter, but I still wanted to help other people so... what better way to get both than to join the forces?"
Ten points for me. Good answering on the fly. I knew we had public speaking class for a reason. The microphone glided towards the reporters face again. "On a more relevant note, how is the idea of being the second in command aboard a prototype star ship when you haven't even graduated yet? What can you tell us about your reaction to the Student Crewing program?"
Ah, good, an easier one. "It's an honour, to be sure. A lot of the class are nervous about the assignment, but everyone can rest assured that there is more than enough experienced personel aboard the Angel to make up for our class' lack of the same. I think it's a great opportunity to get some hands on experience, not to mention get a feel of the new generation of ships that will be in service during our prime."
"One more question..." I noticed the cameraman step back and decrease his zoom. Bastard was scoping my wings. "How do you feel about Captain Yale's choice of name for the ship, the CNS Angel?"
I stole a glance at Henry, who must have noticed because he shot a mischevious grin in my direction. "No comment." I grumbled. Thankfully, the reporter took my hint.
"Thank you for your time, Mrs. Lombardi, and good luck with your placement.
"Thanks..." I tried to push my way out of the crowd without actually pushing anyone. Thankfully no one else saw fit to bug me, but I still got a few of those same damn looks. I looked around clumsily for any kind of direction signs until I found a holographic directory on a wall nearby. I checked which hallway would lead to the bridge, eager to get a feel for it. No one got in my way as I went over the yellow tape down the hallway. The double sliding doors at the end of the hallway opened for me automatically allowing me access to the Angel's control room.
It wasn't what I expected a new, futuristic bridge to be like, but that's far from a complaint. Rather than being in keeping with the triangular shape of the ship, the room was oval-like, with it's wider ends at the bow and the stern. It was more or less separated into two halves; a lower half at the bow with the Helm and Tactical consoles side by side at the front, and the three executive chairs near the half line. The top half had one big ring console that has access to all of the passive functions of the ship, including comms. The halves were about three feet in height difference, joined by stairs against the outer wall.
No one was in there but me, so I thought I would nab what I thought would be my only chance to sit in the captains chair. It was big and soft. I sank into it like when you first put your head on a new pillow. I dreamed of what it would be like to be the captain of my own ship someday... on a real placement, rather than this choked publicity stunt.
"Out of the chair..." The voice startled me. It was Yale. I jumped out of 'his' chair with a start and landed in the not nearly as comfortable XO's chair beside it. Well, it was still comfortable... but didn't have all of that throne-like grandeur of the center seat. A constant reminder of second place.
No one followed him in, thankfully. I was sick of the media attention already. He took the seat that I was abusing only moments before, looking out of the front viewport at the stars. "You know, you really should be the one in this seat. Did I ever tell you that? I almost felt guilty when I saw the marks."
I scoffed. "I'm sure you felt real guilty when you picked the name."
He shook his head. "I didn't mean it to offend you. I actually didn't know you would react badly to it. I thought you would appreciate it."
"Shoulda asked first."
"Like a man asks his girlfriend what kind of jewelry she likes?"
"I find your choice of comparison disturbing."
"Well, the deed is done. Take it how you want." I never thought of him in that light, before. This conversation was definitely a surprise. Maybe a professional relationship, the same between two students on the top of the pile who enjoy spending time together simply because they know they're smarter than everyone else... but I was starting to think he liked me in a totally different way. Hell, he named a ship after me. Was I being a bit too rash?
I wasn't sure yet whether his curiosity was touching or irritating. I was still making up his mind when he prodded me again. "Why don't you like it, anyway?"
"The name, or the fact you named this ship after me?"
"The name."
I sighed. "Other than the fact it's a ridiculous pun?"
"Okay, I'll rephrase it. Do you not like your wings?"
"No. They get in the way, and cause everyone around me to give me a look that tells me they're considering pulling a gun to make sure I don't spread my mutant genes to my children."
I knew the question was coming. "...Then why not have them removed?"
To tell the truth, I never really did have an answer to that question. Twenty years old, and I always thought about it. I tried to shove it off as simple fear, but I knew deep down that wasn't the case... but that was the first time I considered the only truly plausible theory. Because I did like them.
The look on my face probably gave away what I was thinking, because he grinned in satisfaction and returned his gaze to the viewport. "That's what I thought."
We sat in silence for a few minutes, eyes wandering around the pristine bridge.
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Meanwhile....
Outside General Grey's Office
Cornerian Army Command HQ, Corneria City
1410 Hours
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Narrative: Gage Birse
I hated being behind a desk. It wasn't where I belonged. It was always a solid rule in my time with Dagger that we don't retire; we stay in the field until someone finally gets that lucky shot in that ends our career for good. Turns out that wasn't the case; I either really was that damn good or I was luckier than I ever gave myself credit for. I stayed on active duty until I was fifty years old before I finally settled down with Andrea (Yeah, yeah, I'm married to Wolf O'Donnell's sister, galaxy's greatest irony and all that... have your laugh) and took up a spot training new Spec Ops grunts. They had to name the whole damn base after me to drill the idea in my head that I was the best guy for the job.
At least the pay was good... that was one nice change over field work.
That went on for twelve years; the same shit day after day. The most interesting things that happened to me anymore were when I would hook up with Fox or someone for a drink, or maybe go down to the range to show some of the more overconfident recruits how shooting is done. I tried to keep in shape, but age was catching up to me quickly. Don't get me wrong; I could still floor someone with the same grace as I always could... but my stamina isn't what it used to be. I couldn't run my ten clicks every morning anymore, and I was starting to get badgered by doctors to take it easy and enjoy my retirement.
Suffice to say, all of this left me to be surprised when the Supreme General called me up to his office for an assignment, without any other details except that he wanted me on Corneria as fast as humanly possible. So, I got all puckered up in my command officer's uniform and grabbed the first shuttle off of Katina, and a couple hours later, there I was.
His door slid open for me automatically as I approached, and the General was already behind his desk with his paws folded together. His office, to no ones surprise, put mine to shame. It alone made up the top floor of the HQ, being a glass dome that really let the sunshine brighten up the place. With all of the plants around the outside of the room, it almost looked like a botanist pavillion. His desk was a big ring that was open behind him, with tons of pictures about everything from his family to his time as an Air Force pilot. It was funny, really, he was the third General in a row to be close to Fox. Pepper only half so; he already was a big shot but the stunning success of his deployment of Star Fox put him ontop of the totem pole. General Hare was his godfather and team mate, and now Bill was here; one of his best friends and, like Fox, an ace pilot.
I had met the guy a few times, but hadn't seen him in person for around a decade. Age didn't really change him as much as the weight of his position did, and he didn't seem much happier behind a desk than I was. "I'm glad you showed up so quick, Birse. We have a problem, and I want you back out on the field."
I took the fact that he used my name instead of my rank as an invitation to speak freely, the same permission I used to offer myself a seat in front of his desk. "The field, sir? I've been retired for twelve years."
"Don't worry about that, I'll explain. Are you briefed on the Titania situation?"
"Yes, sir. The top secret laboratory that was broken into by a sudden large scale pirate attack, allegedly by the same people that overthrew the Star Wolf empire on Kew six years ago. What about it?"
"Sierra team came back four days ago with intel leading us to believe that the man behind that mess was a bat named Vincent Xavier; the only data we have on him is that he was once part of the Scarlet Hand... I doubt I need to brief you on them."
"Black Scythe ripoffs with ace pilot training. They went underground after the first war and stayed out of sight until they helped us take Andross down twenty two years ago. Since then they disbanded.... but I thought O'Donnell was a member of that, why would Xavier take him out?"
He stood up and gestured to the door before continuing. I took up file behind him and off we went towards the elevator. "Truth be told, we don't know. What we do know, however, is that one of the more sensitive materials on that base was a large amount of stable red matter. Do you know what it is?" The glass elevator doors opened up for us automatically.
"No, sir."
I didn't catch what button he hit, but away we went, down into the depths of HQ to god knows where. "Red matter, when detonated or otherwise destabilized, implodes to create gravitic singularities of amazing power. A couple hundred millilitres of the stuff can create a gravity well strong enough to swallow a whole planet... Xavier is now in possession of more than five litres. With the right science geeks on the job, he could make a bomb strong enough to consume the entire system."
Well, that wasn't good. "Do we have any leads on finding this guy?"
The view through the glass walls of the elevator showed us the nicely and expensively decorated interior of the base. We didn't stop at any of the balconies that we dropped through, we kept going downwards right into the ground to the basement levels. "Unfortunatley, no. But we know that there are only two people that know how to use the stuff to make a bomb... the two head engineers of Arspace Dynamics."
"I know Slippy Toad is one of them... but the other?"
"Skye Greyson."
Shit. Bad news. Greyson was the former leader of the Hand. While his memories were apparently wiped decades ago, I knew for a fact he knew who he was, because his own wife was also a member and she had her memories intact. If Xavier, a member of the Hand, stole the ingredients to a superweapon only his former comrade can build... whether Fox trusted him or not, I only needed to put two and two together to know that Skye was a problem. A big one.
I collected my thoughts and spoke once we left the elevator. The white washed walls reminded me of the many infirmaries I found myself in over the years, but a sign hanging down from the roof corrected me. SUB LEVEL SIX: EXPERIMENTAL TECHNOLOGIES – RESTRICTED ACCESS.
"But why are you telling me this? Both of us are just old men, any of our squads should be able to bring him in without any trouble." We were alone in the hallway, our footsteps echoing off the walls.
"Well, that's exactly the problem. With his position in AD, he has access to the TE-CANIS II armor suits that he helped design. He is now not only as capable as he was in his prime, but far beyond. Fortunately for us..."
"Didn't we just get a shipment of those for our elite units?"
"Exactly. You're retired, so I can't force you into anything, Colonel... but, when this turns into a shit fight, which it will, looking at all the cards.... I need the best of the best; squads I can count on. If we can get Dagger back together in the new nanosuits, that's just one more ace in the hole we'll have at our disposal to prevent as many deaths as we can."
I didn't even have to think about it. "You have me, but I don't know about everyone else. Most of us have been retired for years and'll need more convincing."
"I'm relatively sure we'll only need three of you; Ley is still in service playing training wheels for Sierra, and Delaine is currently teaching sniper school at the JPA. Both are still in the chain of command so they don't really have a choice."
I smiled. Not that butt ugly, warm prideful smile I grew used to giving graduating recruits; it was the predator's smile I used to put on every time I was united with my team in a squeeze. There goes the neighborhood... "They wouldn't pass up this chance regardless." Grey stepped out ahead of me to an extremely tough looking door and in particular, the keypad on the wall next to it. He typed out a digustingly long password and the door hissed before yielding to us. No one was inside; just computers, tubes, and several brightly lit pods in the center of the room.
The General smiled as he pressed a big red button on a console completely devoted to it. One of the pods began to hiss and crack open at the center, opening up to show us its contents. "Behold, the Arwing of ground combat. The Toad-Enterprises Combat Adaptive Nanotech Interface Suit model two, or the CANIS armor."
Sure enough, inside the pod was the suit. It didn't look as bulky as I expected; rather it looked like a thin, silver snake scale full body suit, without a helmet. It looked generally featureless, just a bit of black padding at most of the joints and a deeper silver belt-line that looked thicker than the rest of the suit.
"Something tells me there's more to this than meets the eye."
"A lot more... Here, try it on." The suit descended from the pod by way of the hooks that were holding it up until it was within my grasp. I pulled it down; the texture was almost rough, like an extremely tight woven shirt but with the sleek coldness of metal. It was in two pieces; a shirt half and a pants half, both of which loose enough to fit over my uniform. I pulled them on quickly, and to my surprise, the moment I let them hang off of me, they tightened around my form. Oddly enough, it didn't feel restricting despite how tight it was against me. I tried wiggling my fingers, and it practically stretched to give me full leeway to manouver. It was like a second layer of skin.
He circled me and started going over the features, reading from a manual I didn't see him pick up. "The TE-CANIS II armor is a multi-functional platform fit to the brim with functions primarily useful to a combat, stealth and insertion specialist. Primary functions include strength and stamina stimulation upon command..."
As he said it, the suit scales glowed a dim red. I couldn't find anything to test it on, so instead I just tried jumping. To my surprise, my legs carried me further into the air than I expected. I almost hit the roof of the chamber (which had to have been at least fifteen feet high) and landed, thankfully painlessly, on the ground again. I heard none of the metallic clamoring on impact that I expected. "Holy shit" was all I could say.
"...active camoflauge..."
The suit acted on it's own again. Poof, I couldn't see my arms. I checked the rest of my body with similar results. I was gone. I even tried looking at my muzzle, and despite not having a helmet of any kind, my head was invisible as well.
"... shielding against small arms..."
Before I could react, I felt a heard the familiar crack of a pistol, and felt a minor tingling sensation on my back. When I turned around, I saw Grey holding out a smoking Tyreal Mark 4.
"... and a plethora of other functions all laid out in this manual." He lowered the pistol, and the surprisingly thick booklet with it.
"This has to be the coolest toy ever. Christmas in September! Are they permanently issued to Dagger?"
"Yes, they're all yours. That suit is legally registered under your unit, and is yours to do whatever you will with as long as you're with the military. Now, suit up properly and stop by the armory to grab tranquiziler weapons. I want you deployed to grab Greyson within the hour."
=-=-=-=
Forty minutes later
Corneria City countryside
=-=-=-=
Just like old times. Kind of.
I never really talked to Erica or Rick much anymore. We were friends through combat. Don't get me wrong, we were still friends after Dagger disbanded. How couldn't we be after all the shit we sifted through together? It's just that... once the dust settled, we each had to go our separate ways, none of which involved each other. We weren't even on the same planet 99% of the time. One thing was for sure though, it was damn nice to be working with them again... and not from behind a god damn desk. The three of us were in the cargo bay of what was disguised as a farm equipment transport van. On the inside it was practically a mobile armory, although we sadly had to leave most of the toys behind. All three of us were equipped with stun blasters. Mine was a psuedo assault blaster, Ley's was a more compact sub-machine-blaster, and Delaine with his standard marksman rifle with its damage output decreased to the lowest setting it could reach.
Erica Ley was the team's CQB specialist, and a wizard of steath and knife-play to the point where she had earned the affectionate title of the "walking silencer." A tomboy leopardess through and through, sarcastic commentary and smartassery included, no assembly required. Age had treated her very well; it almost seemed like she hadn't aged a day. I wasn't sure whether to be surprised or not that she was still single. Happily single, probably. I decided to ask her about it once we were done with Greyson over a drink or something.
The wolf Richard Delaine, on the other hand, definitely looked his age. His fur greyed even more than it already had, and he grew a moderate sized beard. I almost didn't recognize him at first if not for his obligatory Creator's Star necklace and his signature green bandana. He kept in shape, though, and I could see the clear-cut soldiers physique under his nanosuit.
The driver turned around and spoke to us through the small grated window separating us from him. "We're about a couple minutes out."
I nodded. "Roger that." I turned to my comrades. "Now, Fox dragged me to one of his crazy reunions one time and Skye was hosting it, so I already know the place. There's two buildings on his property; his house and his... lab, or whatever. It's bigger than the house, and also doubles as a hangar for his and his wife's fighters. That building is in the back. Rick, you're gonna set up in the woods surrounding the place with a vantage point on both buildings."
"Got it." he grunted. I still couldn't believe how much older he sounded. I probably sounded the same way but it was more difficult to notice when I heard myself every day.
"Erica, I want you going for the lab. I'll go to their house. If both are there, I'll call you in. Check?"
"Mmhmm." She pulled the magazine jam on the SMG back to lock the charge clip into place. "Rules of engagement?"
I shrugged. "Well, technically Skye hasn't done anything wrong so we're not supposed to be bagging him at all. We can't just kill him, considering how famous and rich he is. It'll bring a lot of bad rap and even worse questions... If by some sickly slim chance that we miss him, we're to let him go and just check his house instead for any clues as to where he went. We weren't here."
She just nodded in affirmation as the rear doors flew open. We were greeted by a country road in the middle of the woods. The Greyson place wasn't within eye shot, but his mailbox was. It was through the woods to our right. I jumped out first. "Let's do it. Engage active camo." The three of us vanished into thin air. The only way I could track their positions was with a makeshift radar that suddenly became a part of my eyesight through the suit neural-linking capabilities. There were a lot of cool features like that... and I had only begun to hit the tip of the iceberg when it came to all of the awesome gadgets built into it.
A short trip through the woods showed me the target zone. Damn, did he ever have a nice place. Comes with being a head researcher for ASD and a university professor all in one, I guess. My active camo was holding up, so I didn't stop for visual cover first. I went right for the front door. "Erica, are you at the lab?"
"Ready for breach, sir."
I reached the front door, keeping my footsteps silent. "Go for it." I quickly checked if the door was locked first before forcing it open, and was surprised to find it as unlocked as could be. I stormed in, rifle at the ready, checking all my corners. My camo fizzled out and started to recharge.
It was a pretty nice place. On the outside it looked like flat wood panelling, but on the inside was a more genuine log cabin look, dim lighting and all. Dim lighting smelled of a trap... but I didn't feel tense... I wasn't sure why until I checked all of my senses. Dim lighting, no sound, the heat was on so someone was home... it was the smell. I could smell smoke. Tobacco smoke. Wherever he was, he was kicking back and relaxing. I made my way through the dining room (god damn, it was big!) and the kitchen before storming into the living room.
There the cocky bastard was, not even startled in the slightest, sitting on his fancy looking black leather couch with a lit corncob pipe hanging out of his mouth.
He pulled it out, letting out a whiff of smoke. "It is usually polite to knock, first."
Smart ass. "Shut up." I had a few questions for him, but more importantly for my teammates. I brough a paw to my ear. "Ley, any sign of his wife?"
"No, sir. One of the Arwings is gone. Safe to say she booked it."
"Meet me at the house, I have him. Rick, you keep an eye out and watch for any ambush attempts."
"Roger that."
"Keeping an eye out."
Skye took another puff from his pipe, apparently completely oblivious that he was looking down the barrel of an SXC120. "Oh, in case you're wondering, Grey called ahead."
"He what?" figuring he wasn't about to put up any resistance if he knew I was coming, I lowered my rifle.
He spoke quietly and confidently despite the obligatory tension in the air. "Indeed. He trusts me, but duty demands that he covers all of his angles. I can assure you that I will be long burning in hell before someone gets their hands on my knowledge of the mechanics of gravitic weaponry. Mr. Toad too, I imagine. The point is, though, had I resisted not knowing the situation, it would have done my innocence no credit. As such, I will go with you peacefully until my name is cleared and Vince is brought in."
I raised an eyebrow. "Simple as that?"
"Simple as that, Colonel Birse." Whatever tension there was in the air before, it was gone now. I relaxed.
"What about Janice?"
"Why, I sent her off to find Vince, of course. Someone has to recover the red matter."
"You don't think we could handle it?"
"Not at all. A good reputation proceeds you, Colonel, but no one knows my former team's tendancies and tactics like we do. If there is anyone qualified to nullify this situation it is us. Unfortunately, me being behind bars will not serve to that end, nor will Fay and Drake's careers in the military... so, rather, Janice has gone out mostly for intel gathering. You can probably expect little tidbits of help here and there from the middle of nowhere. Ultimately, you are certainly the best man for the job. Do not betray my trust."
I rolled my eyes. "And what's telling me that you didn't just send your wife straight to Vince with the bomb plans?"
He didn't look exactly amused either; he wore the same face one would give a kid who's asking too many obvious questions. "Well, that would be awfully silly of me to give Vince the means to destroy the planet I'm locked up on. I'd like to think my self-preservation instinct is a bit more in tune than that."
Couldn't deny that logic, I guess. "Just get outside, there's a truck waiting for us."
"Very well." he started walking, but paused. "Wait, you may want to grab my laptop from my bedroom upstairs. There is quite a bit of sensitive information on its hard drive."
"Err, okay."
".... Oh, and I have to leave a note for my son." he said more solemnly.
"....Make it quick."
Skye pulled scrap paper out of an end table beside the couch and a pen from his pocket and started writing, I took the time to dial up Grey.
"General, it's Birse."
He didn't even hesitate to start talking. "I know what you're thinking; don't worry about it now. Just get him back here and I'll explain everything to you."
"......Aye."
=-=-=-=
CNS Angel Command Bridge
Orbit over Corneria
16:55 Hours
=-=-=-=
Folding my wings back, I briskly walked through the door onto the bridge. The crew was all settled in, and we had our orders for the Angel's maiden voyage. For the love of the Creator, it was a damned diplomatic escort mission... covered in media presence. We were the fore of three ships, the other two being older fleet escorts just to show off our military muscles. That, and there was at least six or seven media freighters buzzing around out there as the Angel floated lazily in orbit. The bridge officers and other personell were buzzing around their consoles, the silence I enjoyed a couple of hours ago replaced by the clattering of busy preparation for launch and the musical tones of button presses and console alerts.
The diplomat we were escorting, a skunk man by the name of Jason Du'Buleau, was riding with us. We were heading to a station near Kew where their government agreed to hold the negotiations for introducing the now free planet into the Cornerian alliance. It was six years since the death of Wolf O'Donnell and the planet was finally getting a hold of itself again. Du'Buleau and Yale would be going onboard the agreed-upon station for the boring meetings. Me? I got to sit on the bridge and wait. I wasn't sure which was worse.
I took my seat to the right of Yale in his captains seat. To the left of him was the skunk in the guests seat. Henry looked to me and held out a paw. "Everyone reported in?"
I handed him a datapad I was carrying. "All crew members accounted for and at their stations, and we have signatures for launch clearance. We're good to go, Captain."
He took it. "Awesome." He scrolled through it, quickly looking over my handiwork. "Everything checks out. I guess it's time to get moving." He handed me back the datapad. I didn't really think about what I was going to do with it so I held onto it for the time being. Henry scrawled his fingers over his command chair console and opened a channel to the whole ship.
"All crew and passengers, this is Captain Yale speaking. All reports check out and we have been cleared for launch. All stations, prepare for orbit break. " He shut down the channel.
I looked back to Linda who was fluttering around the communications station. "Dorin, contact the escorts and notify them we're breaking orbit for primary objective. Notify Jump Gate Control that we're inbound and have them open the prepared gate coordinates."
"Yes, ma'am." Her wing shot to her ear as she started speaking words that were lost in the busy chattering before they reached my ears.
Yale turned his attention to Tyler sitting in the helm control seat in front of us. "Jereco, warm up the jump drive and bring us out of orbit at half-sublight throttle. Set a course for the warp gate.
"Understood." he turned to his console and started typing in a blur. "Course set, engines engaged."
The view out of the front window glided away from the planet below us towards the stars. I checked my own console, and the escorts -and all of the media pests- were following faithfully. Soon enough, the tell tale green glow of the Corneria jump gate expanded before us, a huge water pool-like surface greeting us. We surged forward, diving right into it. Everything we could see was quickly replaced by the rainbow flow of subspace travel.
Tyler looked back to us. "Jump successful, we're on route." Thanks for the obvious, jack ass. Anyway... having gone through the gate, the trip would only take about a half hour.
And boy, did it go by slowly.
Between Yale puckering up as much as humanly possible and me following him and the diplomat around mostly for respectful presence, it was a wonder that day was ever going to end. Thankfully, the media rats couldn't dock with us at warp. Hopefully they would all be busy aboard the station and decide not to latch onto my ship like leeches. I hated answering their questions almost as much as I hated being nicknamed "The Angel" on newspaper covers.
We were in the ship's hangar bay. Being a little destroyer the Angel's hangar wasn't big enough for any fighters, or anything more than a single visiting dropship. We had our two little basic away transport shuttles with enough space for a third, and that was it. We stood outside one, the diplomat boarding and Yale close behind him before he stopped.
"Amy..." he gave me a look he never gave me before... it was one of fear. It took me a second to realize its sarcastic nature. "If anything happens..."
I rolled my eyes. "Oh stop being so dramatic and get on the shuttle, you."
He melted into a playful grin and threw me a mock salute. "Yes ma'am."
"Try not to fall asleep in the board room."
His eyes widened in mock realization. "Good Creator! I'd feel better about my chances if you asked me to walk back home from here."
My laughter followed him aboard the shuttle and I was soon drowned out by the engines starting up. I went straight back up to the bridge, to my boring watch... and my temporary place in the big comfy captains seat.
Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes turned into hours. The crew more or less started to nod off. Me, Linda and Jesse started a Euchure game on the bridge and since Tyler didn't play, we called up Krissy from sick bay. After Jesse and I wiped them out twice in a row we started switching up partnerships, only to later realize that Jesse was simply unstoppable at the game no matter who his partner was. If any senior officers saw us screwing around like this, they'd probably ship us back to Corneria on the spot. As the time slowly wittled away, I started to pray for something interesting to happen just to break out of our boredom.
After that day, I never, ever, prayed again.
Jesse and Krissy were plowing through their third consecutive win when we were suddenly interupted by his console. We ignored it for a few seconds.
I nodded my head towards his seat. "You should probably check what that is."
He rolled his eyes, laying down his hand face down and going over to his seat. "Fine..."
It was when he didn't suddenly walk back over to us saying "Nah, it was nothing" was when I began to worry. Instead, he sat there for a few seconds, stunned into silence and stillness.
"Ummm... guys? There's five contacts coming in on radar. Frigate size, I think. They're showing up as hostile IFF and will drop out of warp at our coordinates in two minutes."
"... Try hailing them."
Linda sprang up from her chair and dashed to her console, her wingtips dancing across the pad. "Sending..."
A brief pause.
"Nothing, ma'am. Totally ignored."
We all froze and looked at eachother...
...Until I busted out of our trance and into action. "Combat alert! All hands to battle stations!!!" The card table was knocked to the floor and we ignored it. Everyone scrambled back to their stations, and Krissy fled the bridge back down to sickbay where she might be needed if Creator forbid, we needed to recieve wounded from the station. I parked my ass in the Captains chair and heard the distinct drone of our shields raising. A combat status display appeared on my chair console, with read outs of our shields and weapons status. The low pitch, persistant beeping of the combat alert klaxon alarms sounded off. The screen displays around the edges of the roof all dropped their random, boring information and replaced it with -COMBAT ALERT – ALL CREW TO BATTLE STATIONS – in a fitting angry red font.
Go time. "Linda, contact the Tiberius and the Exodar. I know we have better long range scanners than them so they might have not picked our playmates up yet."
"Negative, ma'am, the Tiberius is hailing us."
"On screen."
The bridge viewport lit up with the image of an older, grey furred fox. I recognized him as Captain Tidus. "Commander Lombardi, we picked up your rise to combat alert. What's going on?"
"My tactical officer just picked up five hostile frigate sized ships on long range sensors on an intercept course with the station. We have confirmed that their weapons are charged. They're coming in from..." I looked to Jesse. "Heading?"
"Two seventy by ninety, ma'am. Station centerpoint, our zero." That orientation was for on the fly navigation when in semi-uncharted territory. It involved setting a center compass point, which in this case was the station, and a point that counted as "North", or zero/zero degrees. That was us. The numbers were the compass degree angles in comparison to the direction from the station to us. I checked my console. The heading they were approaching from, based on what Jesse was telling me, was in the middle of deep space... I noted that fact in the back of my brain for future reference.
The captain heard Jesse and continued. "Roger that, good eyes. We're just getting them on sensors now. Follow our lead, but remember; you're the big dog out here. We'll need your firepower put to best use if we're going to win this engagement. I'm calling in reinforcements now and I'm going to have the station and all of the media freighters evacuated. Keep your cool, and if things get rough, remember that the station is the top priority until the civilians are evacuated. Understood?"
"Aye, sir. We're ready."
"We can only hope you are. Tiberius out." The screen showed me the dark of space again.
"Smartass..." I heard Linda retort.
Back to action. "Tyler, calculate their entry point and put us into a position to whack them as they come in. Jesse, bring all weapons online and charge them up for a snap shot. We need to get the first shots in... might even get them before their shields materialze properly if we do this right. Linda, I want you working on identification and communications interception the second they jump in."
"You got it, Amy." Tyler got right to work, and the Angel was on the move.
Jesse grinned, and I could hear the whine of the beam cannons charging. "Understood."
Linda simply nodded. "Okay."
Boom. They were on us. Jesse stayed true to his orders and our two beam cannons slammed into the first of the ships as they snapped into view. As warp fields were sustained by shield generators, the ship we hit didn't have a chance. It buckled under the thick, angry blue beams of light and cracked in half with a satisfying explosion. I allowed myself a silent cheer; our first kill.
Jesse cracked his knuckles. "And that's how it's done."
"Don't get cocky. Tyler, move us between them and the station. We have to delay them as much as we can."
Typically, its playmates didn't like that ambush much. The Angel and the two fleet escorts moved in between the station and the attackers. Our beam cannons were recharging, but the other two had no such trouble. They got in their first shots as well, hitting raised shields of the second closest ship. They took a nasty bruising from absorbing four beams, but were still hovering at a teetering 30%.
Their turn.
Three of the remaining frigates, only just getting into weapons range, fired off their own beams while the leader was recovering from the assault. They hit the Exodar with something I hadn't seen before. Each frigate fired one beam each; they were thinner looking yellow beams. The scary thing was that they ignored the Exodar's shields. I watched in horror as it was anhiliated in one volley, the disc section snapping into three pieces.
"Fuck..." I breathed, turning to Jesse. "What the hell was that?"
Tyler was frantically hitting keys. "Some kind of particle beam... I'm getting a scan..." a brief pause. "Okay, I see the problem. When I was running through the elite-grade combat sims with Jess, there were a couple fights against the Aparoids. You heard of them?"
"Yes, get to your point!" I urged him.
"Well, they were infamous for being so damn good at killing ships because they used a kind of beam that our shields weren't programmed to normally stopped. Rather than a steady, straight up equal-frequency beam, it fires in stronger pulses that are milliseconds apart. It's like a battering ram, slamming on shields with slower, harder hits rather than one big push."
"Can we modify our shields to compensate?"
Jesse nodded. "Already done, Amy. I scanned the pulse frequency and modulated our shields appropriately. We should be able to sponge their hits."
Just in time, too. The wounded ship we hit earlier fired its own cannon, hitting our shields head on as it slipped into our point-blank weapons range. The ship shuddered... but thankfully I didn't hear any hull breach alarms. Linda sqeaked in nervousness.
"Damage report!"
Tyler swung around to face me. "Shields at eighty six percent strength, a bit got through but it didn't do anything more than bake the paint."
"Alright- Send the shield modifications to Linda so she can inform the Tiberius and the station! Quick!"
Linda interupted us. "Amy, I have an ID. They're pirate vessels; the leader in the back is registered as the SWS Executor... the ship that dissapeared with Star Wolf six years ago. I can't get an ID on the others."
My eyes widened. Karen told me about that ship and what happened when her parents were murdered. "Are you serious?" If that was the Executor... Wolf's murderer was probably on that ship.
She spoke in between dancing her wingtips on the console, sending the Tiberius what they needed to survive. "Yeah, these are all ships that used to belong to Star Wolf... but why are they using Aparoid tech?"
Jesse stole the attention light back. "Beam cannons are up, Amy. Orders?"
"Finish off that dirt bag in the lead." I growled.
He did exactly that. Our beams lit up again, shattering the shields of the wounded vessel like hammers on a glass panel. The second beam gutted the ship like a starlit javelin, snapping the ships superstructure and leaving it derelict and powerless.
"Nice shot." I smiled.
"Thanks. Oh, and we're just barely outside of point-blank gun range of the other three vessels. Ten seconds until the first one comes in range."
While normally point range guns - namely our pulse lasers, flak guns and missile launchers – were only used for smaller craft like fighters and incoming missiles, they were capable of putting a decent dent in smaller ships, especially when their shields were down. "Bring them to bear on the first ship that comes in range."
Tyler looked worried as he spun back to his console. "They're trying to go right past us. The front two remaining ships are targeting the station."
"Keep pace. Target their engines." We were still a good distance away from the station so we had time to put dents in the remaining ships... the problem was, the same went for them. The Angel kept a bit ahead of the now leading third ship, with one more undamaged behind it and the Executor lagging behind even further. Instinct told me to go after the Executor... so I could cut off the head of this beast now... but I had my obligation to the civilians on that station. Not to mention Yale, who was probably helplessly watching out of a viewport as we fought tooth and nail to save his life.
The Tiberius, in its own efforts, started dueling with the second ship. Her beam cannons roared and her close range guns started pelting at the pirate frigate. It returned fire, and both ships' shields stood valiantly in protest. To my surprise, the Executor started to yaw off course... maybe to try to go around us?
The bridge shuddered again as our playmates beam cannon recharged and smashed us. Its close range weapons started angrily yelling at us back as well. "65% and dropping, Amy! At this rate we won't have enough power to stop the Executor when this one goes down!" Jesse barked.
"What about our playmates shields?"
"22%. They're gonna buckle any moment now."
"Linda! Status on the evacuation!"
She shook her head in frustration. "It's going slowly, ma'am. Between the media freaking out and the sheer volume of rushed traffic it'll be a wonder if we keep these ships off of them for long enough." I noticed the chaos as well; private freighters and one-man fighters were appearing out of the station and jumping to warp in small bursts.
I didn't need to tell Jesse to finish off the ship we were duking it out with. The moment our beam cannons were up again, they struck again, this time finally shattering our foe's shields. It was enveloped in a satisfying fireball as it detonated. Other than the Tiberius' target, that only left the Executor...
...which was getting dangerously close to the station. "Tyler! Intercept the Executor and bring us within close weapons range! We can't let them get through!"
The Tiberius' target finally detonated, and it made way for the Executor as well. I checked the fleet status screen on my console and it showed me a frighteningly low 23% left on our last ally's shields. We were hovering at a confident 62%. The Tiberius got into range of the Executor first.
They didn't stand a chance.
Despite what we knew about this class of ship, we should have seen the illegal after-market weaponry coming. Two beam cannons on the side facing the Tiberius lit up and pierced it. The Cornerian ship finally took its last breath as the disc-section was shafted. Its last electronics winked out, and it drifted, derelict, into the stars forever more.
We were outgunned, outsized, and completely alone. No words were shared between us as the Angel drifted into weapons range of the Executor. Our beam cannons opened up, hitting raised shields that shrugged off the blows indifferently before it launched its second surprise.
A wave of four Copperhead class missiles fired out of refitted fighter launch bays, all heading for the station. We had to reprioritize. "Break off the Executor, keep pace with those missiles! Open fire as soon as we're within range!"
As good a pilot as Tyler was, a navy sized ship can only turn so fast. The swivelling thruster nodes on the tips of our wings pushed us towards the missiles but they were still going too fast. I silently urged the Angel to push harder, and we just barely got within range of them several seconds later. Our blaster cannons opened up and tore two of them down. The other two kept going unhindered. I bit my lower lip. "Activate the Gravity Gun. Maybe we can throw them off course!"
Jesse got immediately to work, but stopped. "Amy..."
"DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE GIVE ME AN EXCUSE, DEVRIN!"
"It's locked down. We need command codes."
Silence. Those fucking chains that we avoided complaining to the brass about. "Can't let unexperienced cadets have free access to such a powerful weapon" they said. Fucking bastards. The codes were issued to the captain of the Tiberius to be given to us in a state of emergency, and now we were up the river without a paddle... because everyone with them was dead.
"No..." Fear made my paws quake in my chair. "Tyler, catch up to them. Do it. I don't care what you have to do. Do it."
He shook his head. "This thing's fast Amy, but... I just..."
I can't do it.
I failed.
We failed.
And now hundreds of civilians, not to mention Henry, were all going to die.
We couldn't catch up in time. The very minimal AA defences on the station made a futile attempt to shoot the tough missiles down, but they carried on unhindered. They slammed into its frail body like cannonballs into a wooden hull, and the station was consumed by a fireball. When the explosion cleared, all that was left was several derelict chunks. The Executor jumped to warp, unhindered by a gravity field that wasn't there. We could have won this. We could have stopped them. All I had to do was ask Captain Tidus for the codes before this even started... and I let something so stupid get in the way...
"Amy..." Jess tried to comfort me. "This ain't your fault. We did our best. It was five versus three. Henry would be nothing but proud."
"If he was alive..." I breathed. The nagging instinct of duty annoyed the sickness that was my guilt into action. "Linda... are you picking up any survivors?"
"...Heat signatures dead, ma'am. We're alone."
A tear slipped down my cheek. "Set a course for Corneria... if anyone needs me, I'll be in the ready room." I had a report to write.