Commander's Log, Sol Standard Date: July 20th, 3340, High Orbit above Raytheon Three-

We arrived at Raytheon Three about an hour ago. The five remaining strike craft from the mission regrouped with us shortly after we completed our jump. They had docked and rearmed at Falcon Station, one of the Orbis Starports that circled high above the planet. We launched a squadron of Vultures as a combat air patrol just in case the Latorii arrived sooner than expected, though the chances of that were slim. However, it pays to err on the side of caution.

Regardless, we are not in as good a position as we were this morning. Half of our fleet has been destroyed and the Fairlock sustained some damage during the battle around the star. While it wasn't crippling damage, it prevents the battlecruiser from operating at maximum efficiency; and that is something we cannot afford in this war. Unfortunately, there are no military docks capable of repairing our massive battlecruiser in the Raytheon System. With any luck it will not matter, as I do not intend on being here when the main Latorii force arrives.

-Daniel 'Storm' Savarin,

Commander of the Allied Confederate Ship Fairlock

Storm watched from the bridge as the battlecruiser approached the massive orbiting city that managed to dwarf even the Fairlock. They were still fifty kilometers away from the space station and it still was a dominating structure. The forward thrusters on the vessel burst into life, slowing the gigantic ship down to a halt after seven kilometers of decelerating.

"Open a channel to Falcon, get me Captain Kyler," Storm said. Kyler was one of the few people in this system that he managed to get along with. Their fathers had been friends and that had been passed down to the two of them as well. After a few minutes, the human in question popped up on the main scene.

"Commander Storm, heard you boys had one hell of a battle this morning," Kyler started.

"That we did, Kyler. Sadly our losses were pretty heavy as well," Storm replied.

"My condolences to your men," Kyler said in a more somber tone before continuing. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I hate to be the barer of bad news, but one of the Latorii prisoners gave us some rather important information," Storm explained.

"Threaten to throw him out of an airlock again?" Kyler asked with a smirk.

"You know me too well, captain," Storm replied with a toothy grin before turning back to the business at hand. "Anyways, the problem is the Latorii fleet will be here in around forty-five hours. Our transports arrive in twenty-three hours."

"I see the problem…" Kyler sighed out as he leaned back in his chair, throwing his legs up on his desk. "I assume you've got a plan?"

"That I do old friend. We are going to use the marine's Dropships to evacuate the stations. They can carry up to one hundred people at a time and we've got a full complement of ten Dropships onboard the Fairlock. That, and the four remaining Corvettes are capable of taking on about five hundred people each as their marine barracks are empty right now."

"So three thousand people per trip…" Kyler started before crunching some numbers in his head. "Still going to take you about thirty-four round trips to completely evacuate Falcon. And what about Eagle Station? We've got two hundred thousand people still in orbit with forty hours to get them either on the planet or in the transports once they return to orbit. That's five thousand people an hour, think you can manage that?"

"Mikael, can our ships sustain two trips an hour for forty hours?" Storm asked, hoping the AI would have some good news.

"The Dropships will be able to handle the constant re-entry pressure and heat generated from continuous trips to the planet's surface. However, the Corvettes were not designed with such conditions in mind. I can guarantee that their heat shields will hold for twenty re-entries before showing signs of fatigue," the AI answered.

"It will have to do. Besides, once the transports have finished evacuating the planet and return to orbit, we won't have to worry about the Corvettes' heat shields. That, and the time to complete a round trip will decrease," Storm said. "Also, our Dropships won't be coming in empty; I've got some prisoners for your brig."

"Alright, I'll start the evacuation protocol now and have security forces waiting for the Dropships. Thanks for your help, Daniel," Kyler responded before the screen went black.

Storm let out a small laugh; Kyler was one of the few people he let get away with calling him his first name.

"Mark, see to it that the Dropships and Corvettes get their orders. I am going to Falcon to help with the evacuation," Storm started as he got up from his chair.

"Are you sure that is a good idea, sir?" Horner questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I'll be fine," Storm said, waving a hand in the air. "Admiral Horner, you have the con."

"Aye, sir."

Storm passed his room as he made his way once again to the hangar deck of the massive battlecruiser and changed into a flight suit. As much as he hated the mesh suits and their clinginess, he knew that it was foolish to go without it. He also grabbed a black, two foot long metal rod; it had hollowed out ends, and a groove perpendicular to the length of the rod in the middle. He swung the rod around and magnetically clipped it in position on his back.

It didn't take him long to reach his destination with his helmet secured under his left arm. Mechanics were visible throughout the bay, most of them working to repair battle damage to the Vultures. He walked over to the part of the hanger where the few personal crafts were stored. He walked up to a vessel that very much resembled the Imperial Eagles which the fighters had engaged earlier that day. The two major differences were that it was painted stark black in contrast to the pure white of Latorii craft, and that it lacked the pods on the end of its forward swept wings.

"You out of here as well, commander?" A recognizable voice called from behind Storm as he walked up the narrow ramp that ran under the belly of the small fighter.

"Going to help with the evacuation," Storm said as he looked over his shoulder and spotted Lieutenant Nelson, datapad in hand.

"Right… help… you sure about that?" Nelson countered, looking quite skeptical at the claim.

"Not you as well..." Storm sighed, rolling his eyes and punching in the code that would open the door that would let him into his ship.

"Sorry, sir, it's just that people tend to hate your guts," Nelson replied with a smirk.

"Right, well hopefully I will be able to give them a reason not to in the future," Storm countered quietly as the door slid open with a hiss. Nelson silently nodded before going back to his work.

The door closed behind Storm as he brought the helmet up to his head. It was quite unique compared to any other helmet in the fleet. There were two major differences, the face plate and the top. Instead of being flat beneath the visor, it extruded a bit as to conform to a canine's head. On top, instead of being rounded, there were two pointed ears that came out from the helmet. Storm carefully put the helmet on before giving it a small twist, locking it onto his flight suit.

With that complete, he took the rod off of his back and put it in a small compartment before passing a few seats and climbing up a short ladder to the cockpit of the Eagle. After sitting down, the chair spun around and slid forward to the controls. Storm quickly punched in the necessary commands before the ship's power turned on before he strapped himself in. Seconds later, the low whine of the Eagle's engines became apparent. With all systems showing green, Storm diverted most of the power to engines leaving only some for the shields.

Pushing his thumb up on the switch atop his flight stick, the vertical thrusters underneath burst to life. The Eagle slowly rose off the deck of the hanger, the ramp underneath the forward underbelly along with two landing struts in the rear retracted into the fighter as Storm flipped a switch to his left. Placing his left hand back on the throttle, he pushed it forward slightly. The ship moved forward as its main engines glowed with blue light behind the main fuselage. The Eagle passed through the shield that kept the atmosphere inside the hangar before Storm twisted his control stick to the left, spinning the ship towards the front of the battlecruiser. With his path cleared, Storm punched his throttle all the way forward.

The fighter quickly accelerated down the middle of the Fairlock before emerging from the bow. It did not take him long before he was cruising comfortably towards the Orbis starport forty kilometers in front of him. It took him a little over two minutes to reach Falcon Station before he engaged the reverse thrusters, slowing the ship down. Looking down to his left, a panel appeared on his HUD. A few quick commands later, Storm had his docking clearance for the station. He had opted to use his ACS override clearance to gain the landing pad instead of having to deal with traffic controllers that would deny him several times.

The Eagle passed through the shielded letterbox of the station, having to spin the craft to keep up with the rotation of the station. It didn't take Storm long to maneuver the Eagle over his the pad, the ship's computer keeping track the station's rotation and keeping the Eagle in the same relative position. Through the cockpit, Storm could see the Fairlock's Dropship and Corvettes on various landing pads.

Storm flicked a switch and the landing gear deployed out from the underside of his fighter. Pulling down on the switch at the top of his stick, the thrusters on top of the Eagle pushed it gently down onto the pad, the ship shuddering ever so slightly as it magnetically attached. After entering in one quick command, the pad began to lower. Once it reached the bottom, it spun around before progressing backwards and stopping. With his fighter successfully docked, Storm powered all the systems down before unbuckling himself. His chair slid back and turned slightly, allowing Storm to float up in the low gravity environment. Twisting his helmet slightly, he carefully took it off before attaching it to the wall at the back of the cockpit.

Storm always enjoyed low gravity environments. Most ships and stations didn't have the new artificial gravity generators with which the Fairlock was equipped, as they were incredibly power hungry machines. While the space stations had the power for them, it was deemed unnecessary as most of them simulated gravity via rotation and centripetal acceleration. However, the docking bays were in the center of the station and therefore had very little induced gravity.

He pushed of the ceiling and floated down the vertical passageway that lead to the exit ramp. After retrieving the black, metal rod from its compartment and securing it to his back, Storm opened the door and floated out of his craft. Sure he could have been using the magnetic locks on his boots, but he decided to just enjoy being able to float around. It didn't take him long to reach the exit of the small hangar bay his ship was docked in. Even inside the considerably noisy hanger area of the station, Storm could hear the alarms blaring throughout the entire station and see red lights flashing down the hallways. While the alarms were not terribly loud, his advanced hearing made it a bit more noticeable.

"Evacuation protocol is effect. All alpha section residence are to precede in a calm and orderly fashion to the docking bay for transportation," a robotic, female voice rang over the station's PA system. "Bravo section residence, please prepare for immediate evacuation and standby till previous section has completed evacuation."

While such announcements would usually cause wide amounts of panic and chaos, it was one that the residence of Falcon Station had been expecting. However, it was a bit earlier than they anticipated. A few people had to hastily prepare the last of the meager luggage they were permitted to take with them.

Storm floated through the maze of hallways, using his psychic power to push off walls when needed. It took him about twenty minutes to make his way to the command center of the Falcon Station. A few people had given him strange looks as he floated around rather than walked. Thankfully no one seemed to truly recognize him, evident by the lack of angry glares and degrading insults. There were two marines stationed outside the entrance to the room. It was then that Storm finally twisted his body around, allowing his magnetic boots to catch the plating that made up the floor. He walked up to the marines, who saluted when he got close.

"Sergeant, I am here to see Captain Kyler," Storm said, saluting back at the two soldiers, both of whom were taller than him.

"Of course, Commander Savarin," the sergeant replied, stepping aside and letting the smaller, yet higher-ranking officer through.

"The first of the Dropships is loaded and departing now, captain," an officer called out from his station.

"Good, try and keep them spaced out, we don't need them all departing and arriving at the same time," Kyler responded. All around him was a hive of activity. Around fifty people were manning different consoles and monitoring the evacuation.

"I see that things are going relatively well," Storm stated as he walked up behind the civilian captain.

"Yeah… as well as things can go," Kyler replied with a small laugh as he stood up and held out a hand toward his short friend. Storm returned the gesture, grasping the hand in a bone crushing grip.

"It's good to see you again old friend," Storm said as he released Kyler's hand.

"Do you have to cut off the blood to my hand every time?" Kyler asked with a laugh, shaking his hand to try and make it stop tingling. "Anyways, your prisoners are locked up under guard. What do you propose doing with them after we are through evacuating?"

"If we have the room, we will take them with us. Have them dispersed in small groups throughout the fleet," Storm answered.

"And if we don't," Kyler countered, raising an eyebrow.

"Leave them on the planet's surface. If their fleet glasses it with them on the surface, it won't be our fault they're dead," Storm replied.

"Quite noble of your Daniel," Kyler started as he sat back down. "Most commanders I know would just purge the brig, vent all the atmosphere out and let them suffocate."

"I'm no fan of killing unarmed prisoners, Latorii or human," Storm sighed, "If we keep killing them in mass, they have no reason to stop doing it to us. My people may have started this war, but humanity is going to win it."

"Quite optimistic of you," Kyler said as the monitors indicated yet another Dropship full of civilians had exited the station.

"I have faith in humanity, just like my mother does," Storm somberly replied.

"How is she doing nowadays?" Kyler inquired, leaning back in his chair and throwing his feet up onto his desk.

"Still in the Alpha Centauri system working on helping close the technology gap between us and the Latorii," Storm answered. "So close to actually being able to see Earth, yet so far at the same time."

"God bless her, we need all the assistance we can get," Kyler stated before turning his attention back to the screens. "If you want to help, hangar bay thirty-nine is a bit short staffed right now. I am sure they would appreciate the support."

"Alright, it sounds more productive than me standing around here," Storm answered before turning around and heading out of the command center and back towards the hanger bays.

Hours soon passed as the evacuation was carried out, sadly it was not going as fast as they needed with the average round trip for the Corvettes taking about fifty minutes. Luckily the Dropships were able to complete the required two trips per hour. Not many people seemed to recognize the short, ACS commander helping the station crew. A few people did and muttered degrading insults as they passed by Storm, his advanced hearing easily picking them up even with all the background noise.

Eventually, almost all of the civilians had been evacuated and only a skeleton crew remained on the once populous orbiting city. The next round of transports would be more than enough to finish the evacuation. A Corvette soon descended from the landing bay into the large hanger. A large ramp deployed from the bottom-middle section of the frigate class warship. Seconds later, people poured forward towards the nose of the craft before starting up the ramp.

Suddenly the entire station shook violently and a new set of alarms started blazing throughout the hanger. Blue lights mixed with the ongoing red lights from the evacuation alarm.

"Atmospheric breech…" Storm muttered before putting his feet on the nearest wall and launching himself towards the communication panel at the end of the hanger. By now panic had ensued over the people in the bay, fighting and rushing towards the lone Corvette.

"Kyler! What just happened!?" Storm yelled out as he patched himself through to the command center.

"Explosive decompression in section Oscar-twelve," Kyler answered as he pulled up details on the affected area. "Oh no… That is the guard station outside the prison block!"

"What about the prisoners!?" Storm asked, fearing the answer.

"The blast disabled the cameras in the immediate area, we are pulling up the surrounding sections now," Kyler replied, visibly worried as much as Storm was. A few seconds later, he let out a sharp curse.

"Prisoner escape! Sections Oscar ten and eleven are compromised! Get security down there immediately!" Kyler shouted over his shoulder before turning back to the screen. "Can you go help contain the prison break? The evacuation is almost finished."

"Alright, I am on my way. Try and reach the Fairlock and have them send over some marines," Storm said before turning to the two armed security forces in the hangar bay. "You two, come with me!"

"Yes, sir!" Both men responded with their M395 DMR's firmly grasped before running as fast as their magnetic boots would allow them. One of them looked over the ACS officer and noted that he didn't have any weapon visible on him.

"Do you need a weapon, sir?" the guard inquired, intent on giving him his M6A sidearm.

"No, I'm fine," Storm replied before disengaging the magnets in his boots, launching himself in the air, and floating down the long corridor. After about ten minutes of traversing the massive, orbing city, the sound of gunfire made itself apparent as the trio neared the prison block. It didn't take long from there to reach the fighting. The station's remaining security forces were engaged in a firefight with the escaped Latorii prisoners.

"Sergeant, status report!" Storm asked the nearest guard.

"Massively out-numbered and barely managing to hold them at this choke point," the sergeant answered before poking his head around the portable barricade and unleashing several rounds from his DMR. "They got into the armory before an explosion went off. Killed a good number of them, but still too many left to deal with."

"My marines are on their way, we just have to hold till they get here," Storm replied, the sound of bullets pinging of metal barricade resounding in his ears.

"No offense sir, but I doubt we will be here by the time they get here. I needed more men, not an unarmed officer," the guard replied in a harsh tone.

"Who said I was unarmed," Storm said with a smirk as he reached round to his back with his left arm and pulled off black, metal rod that he had magnetically attached to his flight suit. Storm wrapped his hand around the middle of the rod, just under the groove.

Instantly, streams of solid blue energy shot out from both ends at a curved angle, each bending back towards Storm. The light shocked the few guards that were taking cover behind the same barricade. Bringing his right hand towards the middle of the bow-like weapon, a thin, blue wire of energy connected the two ends.

With a relaxed breath, Storm pulled back on the wire causing a slim rod of the same blue energy to form along the groove in the bow. Standing up, he let loose the bolt at the nearest Latorii before ducking back down behind the barricade. The arrow-like bolt of blue energy flew in a perfectly straight line, closing the distance to its target almost instantaneously before embedding itself in the chest of the anthropomorphic wolf.

"Sir… what the hell is that?" The sergeant asked, stuck between surprise and curiosity.

"Never seen a Latorii BowLance before I take it?" Storm replied as he readied yet another arrow, using his strength to pull back the taut energy string.

"I've heard of them, but never heard of a human being able to use one," the guard answered poking his head over the barricade the same time as Storm and unleashing several rounds.

"That is because humans can't," Storm continued as he let loose his third arrow and struck down his third target.

"Wait, Savarin…" the sergeant mused after catching a glance of Storm's last name on his flight suit, "You're that wolf that they actually put in charge of the defense fleet!"

"Yes, I am. Now if you want to get out of this alive, I suggest you focus on the enemy," Storm countered as he readied yet another arrow.

"Bloody hell, fighting alongside one of you beasts…" the guard nearly spat out, but knew that Storm was right. He turned his attention back to the fight at hand as he unleashed several more rounds from his M395.

Storm let out a sigh as he released the string, sending another arrow at the speed of light into the chest of a Latorii trying to get across the firing line to cover. Even when he is saving someone's life they find a way to hate him.

The firefight continued for nearly half an hour. The only reason the security forces has lasted this long was because there were not enough weapons in the armory for every Latorii that had escaped. However, whenever one of the prisoners was killed, another one would grab the rifle and continue fighting. Many of the guards had run out of ammo for their DMRs and had resorted to using their pistols. Their numbers were down to less than a dozen by now while there still seemed to be over a hundred Latorii remaining.

"We are going to die if we stay here," the sergeant growled out as he unloaded the last bullets from his DMR. After hearing the hammer clicking against nothing, he angrily threw the gun to the ground before drawing his pistol and unloading its magazine.

"No we're not, my marines are almost here," Storm replied, thoroughly annoyed at the sergeant who had spent as much time insulting him as he had fighting against the escaped prisoners.

Drawing another arrow, he stood up from behind the barricade and let the arrow fly straight into the now closing Latorii. He ducked down behind the barricade just as a bullet tore into his left shoulder. Storm let out a suppressed growl as he bit down in pain.

"And how would you know that?" The guard asked, smirking some at Storm's wound as he reloaded his M6A.

Storm angrily glared at the human's smugness as the energy from his BowLance retracted back inside of the black rod. His instincts roared inside him to strike out at the arrogant guard, but Storm managed to hold them back.

"I can sense them," Storm replied, tapping his forehead with his right hand.

Sure enough, roughly thirty seconds later several squads of marines clad in plated battle-armor rounded the corner. The professional soldiers advanced towards the pinned down security forces with extremely efficient tactics. Half of the squads providing covering fire from their battle rifles while others moved forward, before switching roles and repeating the process. It didn't take long for several squads to reach Storm's position.

"Glad to see you could join us, Colonel Bradly," Storm said as he held his hand over his wounded shoulder, maroon blood leaking between his fingers.

"Can't let you have all the fun, sir. I see you caught some party favors," the marine colonel joked back as he took cover between Storm and the security sergeant. "I assume you took a few of them down before they put you out of action."

"You know it," Storm said as Bradley peeked over the barricade and let loose several rounds from his M395. A few bullets ricocheted off his battle armor before he and his squad pushed forward against the dwindling number of Latorii. A medic started treating Storm's wound, which wasn't an easy task between his flight suit and the fur he had hidden behind an illusion. Eventually, the medic was able to stem the flow of maroon colored blood that had been flowing from the wound.

After another ten minutes, the last of the escaped Latorii prisoners had been subdued. A handful of them surrendered at the very end, but most of the original five hundred had been killed in their failed escape attempt. It appeared that the ordeal was over, but then every alarm imaginable broke out throughout the station. Alternating yellow and orange lights filled the hallway and rooms surrounding the marines and security forces, driving fear deep into their hearts. That alarm only had one meaning; loss of orbital stability.

"Give me your comms right now!" Storm demanded before turning to his marines. "Get everyone to the Dropships!"

Colonel Bradly nodded as the marines forcefully tugged at the few remaining Latorii prisoners. The security sergeant handed over his communication device before turning and sprinting for his life towards the hangar bay.

"Kyler! Do you read me?" Storm called through the device as he too turned towards the hangar area.

"Storm? Good to hear that you're alright," Kyler responded. "I don't know what happened, all of the sudden our controls all crashed. The next thing we knew the thrusters activated and started pushing us out of orbit. We're running the impact calculations now."

"Alright, let me know as soon as you have them," Storm replied as his magnetic boots carried him down the hallway. A minute passed before Kyler's voice came over the earpiece.

"Sweet mother of… The impact zone is the refugee evacuation zone!" Kyler shouted, causing Storm to wince some. "Someone is doing this intentionally!"

"It would appear a Latorii or two managed to find a way around us," Storm said in a low voice before his ear twitched, picking up on a sound. "Kyler, get out of here. That is an order."

Storm didn't give his human friend a chance to respond, as he shut off the communications device before making his way towards the disturbance. He had thought he had heard someone crying. The blazing alarms made it hard to pick out, but he could faintly make out the distinct sound of a woman calling for help.

It didn't take Storm long to find the source of the call of distress. There was a woman pinned underneath a metal beam, presumably shaken loose by the explosion earlier.

"I'm here! Don't worry!" Storm called out as he ran towards the woman. She had long brown hair that was currently a tangled mess and her face was stained with tears.

"Oh, thank the Lord," the woman said as Storm knelt next to her and examined the beam. Normally, even the weakest of people would be able to free themselves from such a predicament in the low gravity environment, but the beam had wedged itself into its current position, locking it in place. Storm winced as his shoulder flared up again as he reached around with his good arm and grabbed his Bow Lance from his back.

"Stay still, I'll have you out in a few seconds," Storm said calmly as he focused psychic energy into the black rod. Instantly, a short blade of blue energy shot out from one side. The woman looked at the strange device in awe as Storm used it to cut through the beam. A few second later, Storm had managed to cut the beam in two before returning his weapon to his back. He easily pushed it up off the woman and helped her up.

"Can you walk?" Storm asked hastily. While they station wasn't going to crash into the planet anytime soon, he would rather get off of the doomed station sooner than later.

"I don't think so," the woman answered as Storm noticed a rather large bruise on her leg.

Storm nodded as he picked her up in his arms and carried her towards the hanger. The low gravity environment made carrying her much easier as Storm ran towards where his ship was docked. The station was all but deserted by now as Storm didn't see a single soul as he made his way to the hanger bay. It thankfully didn't take him too long to make it to the correct bay. He hastily entered in his access code before making the final sprint to his docked Eagle.

After entering in one final code, the door that let him into his Eagle slid open. Storm set the woman he had rescued into one of the seats before taking the metal rod off of his back and snapping it in a compartment. Looking at the civilian, he saw that she was already buckling herself into the seat. Making his way up the ladder, Storm quickly popped his helmet on and started up the ship. Seconds later, the pad slid forward in the bay before ascending into the main docking area. The magnetic docking gear disabled, freeing the craft as Storm punched the engines, accelerating the craft forwards and vertical at the same time as he made a beeline for the letter box.

"Admiral Horner, do you read me?" Storm called out as the Eagle accelerated through open space.

"I hear you commander, glad you made it out. What is going on? Our tracking data show Falcon falling out of orbit," Horner replied in a calm and collected tone.

"It is, which is why I need you to blow it to smithereens," Storm ordered.

"Aye sir," Horner answered. "Helmsman, engine to full; sound general quarters!"

Storm watched as the Fairlock started accelerating towards the slowly falling orbital city. He could still see greenery in its habitation rings as he turned the Eagle around and waited. It didn't take long before the enormous battlecruiser passed Storm's craft with its powerful railguns deployed and aimed at the even larger station. With the Fletcher class vessel pulled alongside the city, the space station's enormous size became even more apparent as it dwarfed even the largest vessel in the ACS navy.

Soon, blue streaks of light signaled that the Fairlock had opened fire. Even the point defense lasers had started firing on the doomed Orbis Starport. Large chunks of the station started falling off as the railguns tore it to pieces. Several minutes passed before the two habitation rings had been decimated and were floating as several pieces separate from the battered main body of the station. It didn't take long before even the long, central section had fallen to pieces from the barrage of fire from the battlecruiser.

Storm punched his own engines to life as me made for the vessel's various hangers. Entering the needed commands into his computer and signaling that he had a wounded civilian with him, Storm approached from the side of the warship that was not facing the station. He slipped the Eagle down the middle of vessel before passing through the shields of the hanger bay and setting the small fighter down. The Confederate commander let out a sigh as he leaned his head back, relieved to be back on his vessel.

Storm shut down the engines and unstrapped himself before taking off his helmet and making his way down the ladder to where his passenger was waiting. She was looking quite strangely at the helmet Storm had slung under his arms. Her eyes went a bit wide as she read the name on his uniform. However, she finally spoke as she unstrapped herself.

"Where are we?" She asked.

"A Fletcher-class battlecruiser, the ACS Fairlock," Storm answered as he took his BowLance from its compartment before offering her his free hand. "So what is your name?"

"Sarah… My name is Sarah," she replied as she took Storm's hand. As Storm helped her up, he noticed that she was rather short as well, not standing too much taller than himself as she leaned against him. "Thank you for saving me, Mr. Savarin."

"Just doing my job," Storm said as the two of them hobbled their way down the ramp of the Eagle. There were several medical staff waiting for them at the bottom. Storm carefully set Sarah down in a wheelchair.

Storm let out a sigh as leaned back against one of the hydraulic poles that extended from the ramp, and watched the medics start ferrying Sarah off towards the infirmary. Today had been far too hectic for him. With any luck, nothing else would go wrong during the evacuation. He knew that was wishful thinking with a war going on, but he could hope. Gathering himself together, Storm set off for his quarters, intent on washing the blood out of fur and hopefully being able to relax some.