Disclaimer: Volition-inc. owns Descent: Freespace, Admiral Shima, Vasuda Prime, the SD Lucifer and several other things. I own Vincent Schaard, Lt. Risnan, and Lorkhena as well as most of the plot, except where it intertwines with or makes reference to the plot of the game.

Fun Fact: The Descent: Freespace mission concerning the events of this briefing is called "Doomsday."

Chapter Five: 3/1/2335 Aftermath of Doomsday

Everyone is as anxious as I am; we only just retreated from the defense of Vasuda, and most of us had to be woken up for this command briefing. We can only assume we succeeded in protecting the system, but none of us can be sure.

"Welcome, pilots. As you know, the Bastion was withdrawn from the Vasuda system in the face of the Shivan superdestroyer, the SD Lucifer. This brings me to the first topic at hand. Last night at about 1900 hours, the Lucifer made the jump to the Vasuda system and proceeded to bypass all our forces stationed there. We have lost all contact with our forces set to defend against the Lucifer's attack, and very few Vasudan ships were able to successfully evacuate the system. What we do know is that the Lucifer bombarded the surface of the Vasudan homeworld, Vasuda Prime, thoroughly; all Vasudan life and cities on the planet were destroyed, and it is now uninhabitable. Plans are already in the works to escort the surviving Vasudan refugees to safe systems.

"The tragedy is not limited to the Vasudans, however. Shortly before the Lucifer arrived in Vasuda, it engaged and destroyed the GTD Galatea."

At this, the rumble of despair, outrage, and pure confusion that had already swept the ranks of pilots at the destruction of Vasuda Prime, grows in intensity. All I can think of is how we stand hopelessly powerless against the Lucifer. The SD Lucifer first appeared after the capture of the SC Taranis; it arrived in the Ribos system and destroyed Tombaugh station, where the Taranis was being taken. The Lucifer is in every way an appropriate name for this superdestroyer. It has two mysterious energy cannons that can take out an Arcadia installation in three hits, it has a larger fighter payload than any Terran or Vasudan destroyer, but the worst of it is that it sports a shield that is completely invulnerable in the face of even the most powerful weapons in the combined Terran and Vasudan arsenals.

All we can do is run from it.

"The Galatea was on its way to join the defending forces of Vasuda, but was disabled by Shivan bombers in Deneb. Her pilots fought well to defend the Galatea but to no avail; The Lucifer was too powerful. The surviving crew and pilots of the Galatea will be joining us here on the Bastion. We expect the first escape pods and fighters to arrive within the hour. Dismissed."

Although the room has settled a little, there is still a sense of uncertainty and hopelessness. I join the rest of the 66th as we head for the cafeteria. No one can seem to look anyone else in the eye or say anything, and we go as far as getting something to eat and finding a table before lt. Risnan murmurs something under his breath.

Next is Tate, "You say something, sir?"

"We're fighting a losing war," Risnan raises his voice, "Hell, we're losing a losing war!"

Ron speaks up, "It isn't that bad, lieutenant."

"All we've got are pebbles, and that thing is a damn cannon ball. I heard that crazy bastard, Po, was ready to ram the Lucifer once it came his way… but it didn't, did it?"

Admiral Po is the commanding officer of the GTD Intrepid; the Intrepid and the Minnow were stationed outside the Vasuda node in Antares, where it was expected the Lucifer would attack from. The Lucifer arrived in Deneb instead, taking out the Galatea and forcing us on the Bastion to retreat. The night shift squadrons were on duty at the time, so none of us expected to see any action, or even hear about it for a few more hours.

No one can talk for a while, but then Tinman says, "You know, if you cool down a cannon ball enough, it becomes so brittle you can shatter it with a sewing needle."

"Yeah?" says Ron, "Great, maybe we can borrow the Vasudan's giant freezer; it's five hundred million square meters, right?"

"Where do you get off talking like that?" D says, "Tinman was trying to lift the mood!"

"Well, he's a moron! We're all going to run into the Lucifer sooner or later, so we're all as good as dead!"

The rest of the squadron stands up to join in the ever-louder shouting match, except for Risnan and me. I see him supporting his forehead with his hands in the shape of a bridge, defeated. My frustration builds, so I stand and slam both hands down on the table. Every tray, plate, and cup jumps, some spilling over, and I break the following silence: "Get a grip, damn it! All of you!"

Everyone sits down slowly and sheepishly.

"This isn't the first time this has happened, right? What did we do when the Shivans destroyed the Plato? We didn't despair. We weren't as good as dead. We couldn't kill them then, but we made due; we completed the Avenger cannon and made our own shields. Everything has a weakness; even if we have to build a giant freezer, we'll do it."

There are a few murmurs of agreement from the squadron. It isn't a great cheer of pride, or even a round of applause, but I know I've done enough. I sit back down as we all return to our meals. Conversations slowly begin to form, until we've recovered from the shock of the devastation.

"I'll chase 'em down past Mirfak if I have to!" I hear from Sanford.

From Risnan, "Someone said something about a Galatean pilot joining our squad."

The next voice I hear, however, is the intercom: "Attention. The first Galatea survivors are now arriving in the hangar bay."

A few people in the cafeteria leave to meet the new arrivals, but the eleven of us stay behind and continue to talk. After a while, I notice some people entering the cafeteria, some of them new to the Bastion. I decide to get more food, so I say to Ron, "Be right back," and head for the end of the line with my tray.

I always like to stand sideways in line, so I can take note of the people in front of me and behind. To my surprise, I see a short Vasudan approach me; he appears to be about ninety cm (seven+ ft), which is a little short for a Vasudan. He's wearing a Vasudan flight suit, so I assume he's a pilot.

The exceptionally emotionless, electronic translator voice graces my ears, "Excuse me. Is this the line for the cafeteria?"

Part of the electronic translator's design is that it doesn't completely obscure the Vasudan's voice; it only overlays it and is often slightly louder.

"It sure is; you may not like it, but food is food," I say with a grin.

"What do you mean?"

I can tell that I am very near to insulting the first Vasudan I've spoken to, "It's usually cold oatmeal and bitter water; military food."

"That is strange. The Vasudan Navy does not malnourish its pilots."

"Oh, it's healthy, but nothing to look forward to. What do you eat in the PVN?"

"Primarily Antarean Hogrhe, water, and ham. Many of your Terran foods are surprisingly nourishing."

"What's a Hoagray?"

"The Antarean Hogrhe is very much like a combination of your Terran bird and fish; it has the ability to fly and lay fertilized eggs, but it has lustrous scales in order to reflect the harsh rays of their supergiant, Antares sun."

"Oh, I see. By the way, my name is Vince."

"Call me Lorkhena."

Although Vasudan names don't have any particular correlation to gender, the tradition of female Roman names ending in "a" makes me realize that I've been talking to a female Vasudan. The females of the species are difficult to differentiate for the average Terran, but as I am aware, the females are typically shorter, have a less prominent brow, and whereas the male's body tapers down as it approaches the hips, the female's does not.

Realizing my mistake, I ask just to be sure, "I know it may be a strange thing to say, but are you a woman?"

"Yes. I am surprised that you could make such a distinction. The other pilots on the Galatea could not, but I do not hold it against them. Do you know many other Vasudans?"

I begin to notice other subtle distinctions in her voice as well, "I don't know any, but I have studied a bit of Vasudan culture," by now, we've reached the end of the line and each have a bowl of cold oatmeal, "So, which squadron are you in?"

"My former squadron was the 102nd Golden Ankhs, but the rest of my squadron was destroyed in the attack on the Galatea," I notice the change in her expression and tone of voice, almost hidden behind the translator's, but both soon change to what I perceive as hopeful, "My new squadron assignment is the 66th Black Knights."

"No kidding? That's my squadron! Welcome to the squad, Lorkhena. We're a fairly new squadron, so there are only eleven of us, and none of us have been in service before the start of the Great War, so we don't have any hard feelings toward Vasudans. We already have a table. Follow me."

As I approach the table, my squad mates look up one by one, all except Risnan, who is facing the other way and focused on the meal at hand.

"Hey, guys! This is Lorkhena; she's our new squad mate."

"Welcome!"

"Always room for more!"

"Guess she's stuck with number 12."

Risnan still hasn't turned around, but his ears perk up when Lorkhena begins to speak: "Thank you, I have rarely met with such kindness from Terrans, and your hospitality is refreshing. But tell me: why am I 'stuck' with the number twelve?"

"Each of us has a number painted on the side of our ships," this was Risnan. He sounded strange, almost distant and with little emotion in his voice.

"I'm the top ace, so I've got number 1," Tate says proudly.

"Well, I'm only one kill behind you 'cause you stole my last one!" says Sanford.

As they begin to argue again, the rest of the squadron raise their hands one by one, stating their number.

I wait to be the last, "And I'm number 4. Take a seat, Lorkhena."

The conversations pick up again, between mouthfuls, and although she seems hesitant at first, Lorkhena quickly joins in. She has a lot of profound things to say, but she does show a humorous side. Nevertheless, I remain perturbed by Risnan's reaction to her; throughout the entire meal, he doesn't look at Lorkhena once.

Most of us are nearly done, and its about 2000 hours, so we're going to leave for our quarters soon anyway, but Risnan gets up quickly and without warning.

"I'm heading back to my quarters," he says coldly, "Don't stay here too long; we have to be ready for duty tomorrow."

With that, he walks away.

"What's with him?" says Lawrence.

"Maybe he doesn't like our new recruit," says D.

"No," says Ron, "I know what it is. Risnan was really shaken by the loss of the Galatea; we haven't even brought up the tragedy of Vasuda Prime since Lorkhena got here, and it certainly hasn't helped his disposition. I don't think he hates her for it, but he can't be fine seeing someone unaffected by all this."

"I have already grieved at the loss of our homeworld," says Lorkhena, "To dwell on grief and remain in despair is destructive to one's self. I believe his temperament is not unrelated to my arrival and my species. Vince, you said no one in this squadron had been in the war during Terran-Vasudan hostilities, before the Shivans' arrival. I fear you forgot about your lieutenant; he has been in the war far too long."