Date & Time: 23th December 2097 Anno Domini, 1650 hours.
Location: Rome, Italy
Weather: Foggy
"Eagle 1, be advised that there are dozens of boogies in your airsp-"
Radio static.
"Come again, Command? Command?!" Lieutenant Colonel Vega 'Trailblazers' Dunn reached out.
The radio is tuned to the correct frequency and there was no Ion Storm nearby. This meant only one thing and Murdock didn't like it the slightest bit.
"This is Eagle Actual. All call sign Eagle, radio check. Over." Vega ordered.
"Eagle 2-1. Out." Murdock replied
"Eagle 3-1. Roger. Out."
"Eagle 3-1. Out."
"Eagle 5-1, out." It went on until Eagle 20-1, twentieth airplanes.
"Copy all. Something's jamming our long-range comm back to HQ. Look alive. Over." Vega informed.
"Wilco/Affirmative. Out" Came Murdock's and other Flight commanders' reply.
As the squadron soared through the air, screeching cut through the air. Murdock could feel his aircraft vibrating from the noise. He cringed. It was a sound that he knew all too well - the unmistakable wail of the Scrin Stormriders.
Murdock couldn't see shit through the thick fog. Dozens of red dots were on the radar display, far outnumbering Eagle squadron 5 to 1. His throat tightened. He prayed that it was the Scrin using the scrambler to inflate their actual number, and he hoped the Scrin wouldn't detect the squadron's presence.
"This is Eagle 1-4, I got a tally, a boogey on my six, high. Your orders, Actual? Over."
"Do not engage." Vega commanded.
As the red dots drew nearer, Murdock's apprehension grew. The dots seemed to be closing in on their position, encircling them. The screeching grew louder and more intense. Faint purple glows penetrated the fog in every direction, growing brighter, before dozens of Stormriders emerged.
"Stormriders!" One of the pilots exclaimed.
The large numbers of Stomriders that flew past Murdock's plane indicates they were truly outnumbered 5 to 1, as the radar had warned. He grimaced. The Stormriders were everywhere. They aimed their plasma cannon at the formation.
"Scatter! Scatter! Scatter!" Vega commanded.
Eagle squadron broke formation at the same time as the Scrin opening salvo, causing most of the shots to miss. The shots that didn't miss somehow connected to Murdock's aircraft with his Orca Firestorm shield module held firm. Beads of sweats began to pool on his forehead.
The Stormriders closed the distance and flew between the Firehawks, splitting the squadron into smaller segments where the squadron couldn't counterattack effectively.
Before he could help the squadron to break through, the Stormrider that was after him fired another salvo. He gritted his teeth as he did a barrel roll. The plasma grazed the Firestorm module.
They couldn't win this fight; it was simply not possible. They were outnumbered, and outmaneuvered. Tactical retreat was a must, but they have yet to find a way to break through the aerial equivalent of encirclement. The armaments of his squadron were on par with the Scrin, but the maneuverability and the number of the Scrin aircrafts…Damn it!
A pair of Stormrider appeared in front of him, their plasma cannons glowing purple.
"Fox-2! Fox 2!" Four missiles were fired. Two missiles for each Stormriders. The first missile disabled the shield and paved way for the second missile to obliterate them. The two Stormriders were no more.
Before Murdock could mutter a thank you, his savior's aircraft erupted into fireball.
"Eagle Actual is down!"
Murdock's mouth went agape. He tightened his grip on his yoke. This was no time to panic.
"This is Eagle 2-1, I am taking command. Make sure my ass doesn't get shot by the boogies. The package is our primary objective." Murdock commanded.
"Copy, Eagle Actual."
He has to complete this mission, for the sake of humanity. He just had to break through the Scrin formation. But how?
Rome…Apennine's mountains. The terrain.
Murdock could use it to his advantage, but the forsaken fog was limiting the visibility. He couldn't even see the ground below.
No, there was a way to overcome this.
Murdock flipped the switches of the various sensors on. Sonar, infrared, all of the sensors screamed in response. It would make him the primary target for the alien targeting system. Then again, the Scrin was already after him. The on-board AI used the pouring data from the sensors to cast a virtual reality of the surrounding environment onto his HUD. The accuracy of the simulation was not guaranteed but it's better than nothing.
Alas, Murdock was greeted with a landscape straight out of hell. The ground was a blasted barren plateau of rock laced with veins of Tiberium that shone through with a malevolent green radiance. On the horizon were massive formations of pure Tiberium that have welled up through the surrounding Earth. These frozen crystalline glaciers cast a sickly emerald glow on the surrounding terrain.
Barely any hills could provide a chance for a maneuver. However, there were some narrow canyons that possibly could cover his escape. No, it was too risky. The Tiberium grew too tall. It could graze and infect his plane.
Murdock noticed a shadow of structures at the corner of his eyes. It was a city block of office buildings, relic of the old age that was covered in Tiberium but was still standing.
An idea popped into his head. A crazy idea. It was a do or die idea, and Murdock couldn't afford to die.
"This is Eagle Actual; we have to break away from engagement. I'm circling that office block to shake the boogeys from my tail." Murdock relayed his plan.
"Roger." Came the reply from other pilots.
"This is Eagle 5-1; God help you Actual." A faint explosion cut off the line abruptly.
Murdock banked his aircraft to the right and activated the afterburner. He went hypersonic in a matter of seconds. The sudden change of speed took the aliens by surprise, giving him a head start. The Stormriders, expectedly, were able to catch up with him as soon as they regained their bearing.
Murdock was now near the block. He pulled the yoke and began circling the it. The gravitational and centrifugal acceleration acted on his body. His brain was pushed towards the wall of his skull, and he felt somebody put a heavy boulder on his chest when he tried to breathe. His vision began to darken. Murdock used every ounce of his willpower to not succumb.
Murdock's perseverance paid off. He found himself facing the rear of the Stormriders. Murdock fired the autocannon. He missed all his shots.
The Stormriders became still in the air andMurdock flew past them.
The aliens were back on his tails. The fucking aliens were maneuvering without the fucking concept of inertia!
"Eagle 1-11 and Eagle 1-12 are down."
Murdock frantically looked around. Only two of his escorts were left. Worse was that the alien numbers barely changed at all. It was…a slaughter. He was screwed. No... He had to succeed!
Murdock replied, "To all Eagle, this is Eagle Actual, we have to deliver the package to Delta at all cost! Cover my six!"
"Copy, Actual. We'll try! Can't cover you if we are dead!"
His aircraft rumbled. Multiple flashing red warnings filled his HUD. The aliens somehow managed to disable the aircraft weapon systems with a powerful EMP. The bastards didn't want to give them a chance to escape!
"Fuck!" Murdock screamed. He flipped on the switch to EMP countermeasures on his dashboard and began re-activating his weapons; it would take 5 seconds. It was 5 seconds too long of sitting duck as a Stormrider took the opportunity.
He wouldn't let the bastard pull the trigger. Murdock activated the afterburner and sped towards the Stormrider, hoping the Firestorm module protect him from the impact of crashing into the Stormrider. The Stormrider glowed purple as it charged up its plasma cannon.
The Stormrider in front of him erupted into purple fireball. The shockwave swept Murdock's aircraft.
Explosions. He looks around to witness dozens of projectiles that glow like starlight descending from heaven with incredible speed, leaving trails of luminescence and water vapors as they strike down the Scrin Stormriders with pinpoint accuracy. The Scrin squadron that was chasing them was gone within seconds.
Murdock's radio crackled, "This is GDSS Isaiah, we got your back Eagle."
Murdock smiled, "Copy. thanks for the assist. All callsign Eagle, report status."
"Eagle 5-1. Still breathing. Missiles and ammunition are low."
"Eagle 7-1. All of my weapons are expended."
No responses from the other 18 aircraft. Murdock grimaced.
"Copy all. We are Oscar Mike to Delta. Out." Murdock replied.
The radio buzzed. "Command to Eagle Actual, do you copy? Over."
"About damn time, Command! This is Eagle 2-1, I am acting as Actual. I read you. Over."
"Eagle Actual. What is your status?" Command asked.
"Eagle Actual is green, but Eagle 5-1 and 7-1 are low on ammunition and have expended almost all weapons. We are Oscar Mike to Delta ASAP," Murdock reported.
"Understood. Be advised that 2nd squadron of the First Fleet had been dispatched to cover your retreat. Keep me informed of your situation. Out."
"Copy Command. Out."
Just when Murdock thought there wouldn't be any more clusterfuck, a blinding white light dazzled his vision and intense vibrations shook his entire body.
"Eagle, we got high energy readings coming from the Threshold. What's your SITREP?" Command demanded.
Murdock's mind raced as he tried to process the situation. "How the hell are we affected by the Threshold, Actual? That thing's dozens of miles away!" he exclaimed.
"I don't know, Eagle," Command replied urgently. "We need to know what's happening. Report back and steer away from the effect zone immediately."
Murdock gritted his teeth and fought to keep his voice steady. "The hell do you think we're doing!? The energy readings are overwhelming our sensors!" he snapped.
The rumbling from the Threshold grew louder, drowning out the radio chatter. Murdock knew he was in trouble. Despite the Orca speeding past the speed barrier, he knew they couldn't escape in time.
"Command, I don't think we can-" He was cut off as a blinding white light enveloped him, and everything went black.
…
Date & Time: 23th December 2097 Anno Domini, 1800 hours.
Location: Unknown
Weather: Clear sky
Thunders and rumbles woke Murdock from his unscheduled sleep. He opened his eyes to the sight of a giant ominous storm cloud in the distance. Yellow lightning struck the ground leaving blackened craters with occasional meteorites falling to the ground.
It was an Ion Storm, and he was flying straight into it. Murdock's heartbeat skyrocketed. Like any sane man would do, he turned the aircraft 180 degrees into the opposite direction.
Murdock took a deep breath to calm himself. That was not exactly the thing to wake up to. Through his cockpit, pillars of black smoke could be seen rising to the sky from the ground below. Murdock looked down to see a city.
A city that was in flame.
Scrin. His heartbeats skyrocketed again.
Murdock looked at the radar. No signatures of Scrin boogies. No visuals of Scrin fast-flyer or ground units either. No sign of scorch marks that indicates plasma weaponry was being used on the city. Scrin involvement was ruled out. He narrowed the cause down to either anarchism or the remnant of Nod, which begs for more questions.
The city is within Russia, a Yellow Zone, judging by the Stalinist architectures. Yet, there was no trace of Tiberium that could generate Ion Storm of that magnitude as far as his eyes could see. The lack GDI presences and the GPS inability to pinpoint his position were worrying.
Right, report his status to H.Q.
"Command, this is Eagle Actual. Do you copy? Over." Murdock spoke into the helmet mouthpiece. No response.
Murdock double checked his frequencies. "This is Eagle Actual, Command do you copy? Over." Same result. It was frustrating.
The infrared sensor fluctuated. It came from near the edge of the city. Murdock, desperate to find clues on his whereabouts, flew towards the source. He maintained high altitude to be a speck in the sky to any unknowing ground observers. It would also give him enough time to react for hostile triple-A.
Murdock eye widened, "What in the goddamn?"
A jet stream of black flame washes over a silverish bubble-like barrier. The flame bore through the apartment behind the barrier that was unfortunate enough to stand in its path causing it to collapse, spurring dust into the air. When the flame died down and the dust cleared, stood a mob draped in an array of clothing bearing the telltale hue of orange. They had corralled a group clad in all blue completely surrounded and outnumbered. In front of the mob, stood a woman with a pair of demonic horns. She was the flame conjurer, judging by the melted path in front of her.
Despite the flame destructive capability reminded him of the Black Hand purifying flame, he was sure orange wasn't Nod color and GDI wouldn't never leave a unit behind without a reinforcement a nearby. He focused on the camera feed, desperate for any details that could help him make sense of the chaotic scene below. He squinted as he honed in on the mob, noting the extra appendages that protruded from their bodies like tails and ears. They were not human.
Murdock rubbed his eyes. This was not a cosplay party or a roleplay. Maybe this was all a dream? Murdock pinched his right cheek with his fingernails. His cheek stung. It wasn't a dream.
His eyes then fell on a bunny-eared girl, no more than a teenager, standing among the outnumbered group in blue. Despite the fear hidden in her eyes, she put on a brave face, her expression one of defiance. Murdock's gut twisted with unease as he realized the mob's malicious intent. He knew that a person wouldn't even dream of hurting a child unless they were a psychopath.
Without warning, the people in blue formed a line behind a horse girl. The horse girl had her shield hoisted high in defiance. She, along with the rest of the girl's group was encased in a silvery white bubble.
The woman with a pair of his demonic horn raised her palm and aimed it at the people in blue. She was about to conjure the flame. He wasn't sure the 'magical barrier' could take the hit again.
What the hell is this? This is ridiculous!
"This is Eagle 1 Actual. To anyone out there that receives this transmission, for fucks sake, please respond." Murdock was growing desperate.
Silence greeted him once again, but he couldn't let that stop him. He had to make a decision and he had to make it fast. He had to protect the girl. His conscience demanded it.
The aircraft ammo is half full. He could eradicate the mob using if things go awry, Murdock assured himself, acknowledging the demonic horn woman ability. "Here goes nothing." He muttered as he descended from the sky.
Murdock's appearance had the desired effect, but it was short-lived. The mob was stirred, but the woman quickly rallied them with a sneer in his direction. Murdock couldn't help but feel a twinge of fear in his gut as he faced off against a group of people with 'magical' abilities. The demonic horn woman and ordered the mob to fire at him with bows, crossbows, and even magical beams.
Murdock gritted his teeth and stood his ground. He knew it was a bad idea with magical beams in the equation, but he needed to distract them long enough for the people in the blue to escape, and assess their damage output. The arrows and crossbow bolts were easily stopped by his energy shield. However, the magic beam fired from their mages was a different story. It drained the shield charge, even if it was slightly.
Murdock fired the autocannon in a burst aimed at the road separating the two opposing factions to intimidate, destroying the road. It had the opposite of the effect he wanted. The woman didn't flinch. In fact, she seemed almost amused by it. She pointed her open palm at his aircraft instead.
Do not fire unless fired upon. Rules of Engagement be damned. He wasn't taking any chances.
Murdock fired a sonic missile at the woman.
The missile's yield is too low to destroy armor that has acoustic shielding, yet it's still enough to turn unshielded humans into mush. Overkill, yes. But the people in blue were able to withstand an attack that could destroy building like it was cards.
The missile left trails of white smoke as it streaked in the air. The mob immediately turned into disorganized chaos as they tried to scramble away from the blast zone.
The explosion was bright and loud sending debris flying in all directions and kicking up dust, creating an impromptu smokescreen. Murdock's attention was on the people in blue. They seemed stunned for a moment, but then quickly regrouped and headed towards a manhole cover, climbing down the sewer, using him as a distraction.
Smart people.
The mob returned wildly returned fire through the dust that concealed him. Seconds later, Murdock noticed movement through the hole the woman came crushing in. The smoke dissipated and woman came out from the hole alive but not unscathed. She was bleeding from several places on her body.
What in the hell that woman made of? Titanium? She should have more than a bleeding forehead!
The woman rallied the mob again. Murdock pressed the trigger on the yoke, intending to neutralize the threat.
NO MISSILE.
What? When did he used all of the missiles?!
Before he could switch to the autocannon, the on-board AI urgently notified that the people in blue were far enough for the mob to give chase. He had achieved his objective, and it was time to get out of there. He quickly activated the afterburner and hightailed it out from the city. He left the mob behind with a deafening but unharmful sonic boom from the Orca exhaust port as a parting gift.
Murdock looked over his shoulder. He just wants to confirm the demonic woman didn't fly to chase him. His paranoia was unfounded. Instead, Murdock was met with a sight that left him bewildered. There was a city. A city that was built onto a platform that was built on a platform with huge treads. VERY HUGE threads that dwarfed even the Mammoth Reclamation Vehicles. It was a surreal sight out of a fantasy world.
Who on Earth would build a giant city on wheels? It was highly impractical and incredibly expensive. At least the Japanese had built their flying fortress with aerial and ground superiority in mind. Everything didn't make any sense. Murdock decided to spare his brain from fruitless labor. One thing that he was sure was that he wasn't on Earth.
A faint sound of a jet engine entered his ears. Firehawks, Eagle 5-1 and 7-1, the IFF informed, The two Firehawks sandwiched him. They gave him a thumbs up through their cockpit.
Before Murdock could hail the two aircrafts, a hoarse voice sounded, "Eagle Actual, this is Admiral James Parker of the First Fleer. Designation; W0123HM. Lieutenant Brian 'Murdock' Craig do you copy? Over."
The AI sensed his confusion and projected the formal picture of the Admiral onto his HUD, allowing Murdock to put up a face on the voice.
The Admiral was a middle-aged man with combed back blonde graying hair and a rugged, weathered face that spoke of countless battles and campaigns. He wore a crisply pressed uniform that was adorned with medals and insignia, and his piercing gaze seemed to bore straight into Murdock's soul.
THE Admiral? The war hero? Holy fucking shit. Wasn't he supposed to be watching the sky over D.C?
"This is Eagle 1 Actual, I read you. MIB? Over."
"Men in black, Lieutenant. There is a change in your objective." Men In Black, the countersign for the operation.
"I read you. What's the mission adjustment?" Murdock replied.
"I had uploaded a new map to your terminal and marked a new RV point. Proceed to the new RV point ASAP. Eagle 5-1 and Eagle 7-1 will escort you. Out."
As if on cue, the two Firehawks increased their speed and positioned themselves as his escorts with the sunlight glinting off their sleek frames. Murdock couldn't help but to feel relieved. He knew that these were skilled pilots he could trust to watch his back.
"Glad to see you are still alive and kicking, Actual."
"Why the hell you didn't respond to my hail 20 minutes ago? And where were you?"
"Uh, we changed radio frequency. We were 10 clicks to the east before the Admiral informed us to fetch you."
Murdock sighed. "Glad to see you in one piece. 1-2 and 1-4."
"Likewise."
No conversations were made afterward. Murdock and the pilots enjoyed the silence travel back to the rendezvous zone. Murdock kept his silence and so did the pilots.
It was pure boredom of having to keep a vigilant watch on the airspace. Murdock wasn't on Earth anymore. That was certain. Instead of the familiar green crystals, there was only sand stretching as far as his eyes could see and occasional weird black crystalline that scars the ground like tumors.
Murdock watched the sunset in the distance. The blue ocean color of the sky turning into orange hues. It was a breathtaking view, one that he wished he could stay in forever. No fighting, no Nods, no aliens, no Tiberium. Only peace, and tranquility. He rarely got any moment to relax after he graduated from the military academy because of his 'chosen' career.
The navigation system alerted him from his thoughts. The stars were visible and the moon shone brilliant, bathing the desert in a mystical glow.
He slowed his Firehawk before becoming still in the air. His escorts' Firehawks followed suit.
"This is Eagle Actual. Command, we are at the rendezvous point. Over." Murdock informed.
"Copy, Eagle Actual, standby." A different voice this time, a female.
A large shadow loomed upon Murdock. He looked up. An object descended from the sky. The massive rectangular design, soft bluish flame spurted by the large exhaust port and the bleeping blue navigation lights indicates that this was one of the Global Stratospheric Transport. Its enormous completely blocked the view of the moon.
It took several minutes for the GST to hover at one spot and another 30 seconds for it to open its hangar door. Murdock had to squint his eyes from the bright light coming from GST Tzadik. When his eyes adjusted to the light, there were a lot fewer aircrafts than Murdock had expected in the hangar bay. Lots of space that could fill in a football stadium.
"This is GST Tzadik Air Traffic Control to Eagle Actual. Do you copy? Over." A female voice spoke.
"This is Eagle Actual. I read you loud and clear."
"Eagle Actual, your squadron are authorized to land at any of the empty spaces."
"Copy, ATC." Murdock replied. He addressed his squadron, "This is Actual. Eagle, report status for landing."
"All systems green. Over."
"Copy all." Murdock replied. "ATC, all system green. Commencing landing procedure." He informed.
Murdock was the first one to hover in followed by the two Firehawks. He chose to land on the spot the closest to the door leading into the spacecraft because it would make walking easier. GST Tzadik AI feed information to the squadron on-board AI that used its various sensors to execute a landing straight out from a pilot manual book.
When his HUD wrote 'aircraft landed', Murdock unbuckled the seat strap and took off the breathing apparatus from his face. He disengaged the hatch and climbed out from the cockpit. He stretched his body and let out a moan. Sitting for too long in the cockpit tied a knot in his muscles.
"Lieutenant Murdock." A voice greeted him from behind.
Murdock almost tripped on his leg as he turned around to face the Admiral. Muscle memory saved him from embarrassment. He straightened his back and gave a salute. Like the picture he had seen in the aircraft, the Admiral was a commanding figure, with a tall and imposing stature that exuded authority and confidence.
Behind the Admiral stood a silver-haired woman. She stood with perfect posture, exuding an air of confidence and intelligence. Murdock couldn't help but admire her stunning facial features – pale smooth skin, high cheekbones, full lips, white silver hair tied into a ponytail and piercing blue eyes that seemed to bore into his soul. The uniform didn't bother to hide her figure.
The Admiral raised his eyebrows. "Lieutenant, I believe you have retrieved the cookie?"
"Yes, I did. Orange flavored cookie and a strawberry, sir." Murdock replied. He climbed into the cockpit of his Orca and opened the storage compartment, taking out a steel alloy large briefcase the size of his torso and handed it over to the Admiral, who didn't seem to be bothered by the weight and inspected it carefully.
"Go get some rest. You and your crews had a very long day." The Admiral commanded before walking towards the exit.
"Sir." Murdock called out.
"Yes, Lieutenant?" The Admiral stops in his track and turned his body back around.
"What's inside the briefcase?" Murdock nodded towards the Admiral's hand.
"I apologize. That is not a question I can answer." The Admiral replied without pause, his voice became steelier.
Murdock reined in his frustration. He had lost his squadron commander and the pilots under his charge. The least the Admiral could do was to tell him what the hell they were protecting. Right, Top Secret.
"I understand. What about the debriefing?"
"I will postpone it until I can figure what we all got ourselves into." The Admiral's expression was unreadable as he gripped the case handle tightly.
"What do you mean?" Murdock asked.
"I am sure you had seen how a humanoid can conjures a flame?"
"Ah."
The Admiral continued, "There are empty dorms on the second deck. Lieutenant Charlotte will show you the way. You may be dismissed." He gestured for the woman standing beside him. "
"Yes sir." The pilots replied. The Admiral walked out the hangar to God knows where with the briefcase in his hand. Leaving Murdock and the pilots with the woman.
"Lieutenant Charlotte. I am Flight Lieutenant Brian 'Murdock' Craig."
"First Lieutenant Charlotte Dubois. This way." She returned the salute and began walking.
Murdock followed the Lieutenant into the maze that was the hallways of GST Tzadik. It took a moment but finally, they reached the stopped in front of the door with rows of doors leading into the cabin.
Lieutenant Charlotte unlocked the door with a look on the door retinal scanner and gave way for Murdock to step inside. The room was small but functional, with two double beds taking up most of the space.
Lieutenant Charlotte seemed to read his thoughts. "I've updated the scanner to allow your squadron access to this cabin. You'll have everything you need."
Not everything. His clothes were left behind in his barrack in Italy. "Lieutenant Charlotte, we don't have anything to wear for tomorrow." No one wants to walk around in a uniform that stank with sweat.
"I'll go talk to the Housing and see what I can do." Lieutenant Charlotte replied.
"Thank you, Lieutenant." Murdock thanked. She nodded and walked away without another word.
…
Date & Time: 24th December 2097 Anno Domini, 0100 hours.
Location: GST Tzadik, Unknown
Weather: Clear sky
Murdock lay in his bed, tossing and turning as he tried to find a comfortable position to sleep. Despite his exhaustion, his mind refused to shut down, replaying the moments from his near-death experiences over and over again. Frustration and boredom crept in, causing him to groan as he turned his body to face the ceiling.
He just want to fucking sleep, God dang it!
Boredom took over him.
Maybe, he could analyze the chain of events that led him here. Who knows he would have a eureka moment to beat the Scrin back to where they came from and become the war hero?
Right.
As he lay there, Murdock couldn't help but contemplate how he had ended up in this situation. First few hours of Second Contact, the Threshold activated. The GDI had no prior warning; the aliens didn't come out directly from the Threshold, they teleported behind the GDI line. Chaos was easily sowed by the aliens afterward.
As an elite pilot, he had been handpicked by HIGHCOM for a critical mission. They had been right in their prediction that he and his squadron were the best of the best - until they were ambushed halfway to their drop-off point. Murdock suspected it had something to do with the supposedly 'secret package' he carried.
Lost in his thoughts, Murdock was startled by a voice interrupting his musings. A head peeked down from the bunk above him. "Can't sleep, Lieutenant?"
"You think?" Murdock sighed in annoyance.
The head disappeared, only to reappear moments later. "Wanna go outside for a walk?"
Murdock considered the offer for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, let's go."
The two made their way through the ship's corridors in silence. As they walked, Murdock felt the cool metal of the ship's hull against his fingertips, a reminder of the dangers that lay beyond. He knew that the fate of the world rested on the undelivered package. It was on the Admiral now. He already did the best he could give.
Revised: 16/03/2023