Years earlier

It was such a quiet thing, a quick thing, a subtle thing, to learn he wasn't going to be a Cornerian soldier anymore.

A short time after the unjustly infamous operation on Fortuna, the General in command ordered him to the field HQ, promptly informed Kell Zura that he would no longer be in command of his battalion, and embarked the officer on the next available transport back to Corneria. The enlisted soldiers and junior officers weren't told why –they knew better than to ask– and they'd find out soon enough regardless. Even though word hadn't quite gotten out yet, there where rumors and mumblings as there always were, almost all of which were false, concealing the actual truth out of plain sight. The smokescreen of rumor would at least mean the trip back to Corneria to formally 'face the firing squad' would be uneventful and quiet. The General even had the courtesy to make sure Kell Zura was the only passenger on this return trip: no one besides himself and the crew–

Never mind that. That notion of a calm quiet trip was quashed the instant Kell Zura entered the transport's combined passenger and cargo compartment, which was entirely empty besides himself, and one other person. She was a firm, white wolf woman in a sharply cut navy blue pantsuit, who Kell hoped he would never have to see or hear from ever again. This was Agent Gillian Morrow of the Cornerian Security Bureau.

"Hello Kellam," said the wolf as she stepped forward, her crisp footfalls echoing through the compartment under her voice. "It's been some time."

"Goddammit woman," Kell growled, tossing aside his military issue duffel bag. "Of all the people in Lylat, it has to be you?"

"How is your family?" she asked as she came to a stop nearby. "How is Sasha?"

"What the hell are you asking for?" Kell asked, making no effort to hide his disgust. "You're CSB, and I'm an old contact of yours: I'd bet my left nut you've been keeping close tabs on us, and you know exactly how my family is doing."

"It's been nearly fifteen years since we last spoke. I'm sure you can forgive a lady for being curious how a close colleague has fared in that time." Then she added, with possibly the closest Kell had ever heard her get to a joke, "besides, the reports can only tell so much of the story."

"Look, Tess and I are grateful for what you did for us, helping with Tess' fertility issues," the husky officer said with a grumble as he paced around the deserted cargo bay. "Sasha is a wonderful daughter, but that was supposed to be the end of it between us, for good. It was supposed to be the end of it even before Sasha, but you just can't keep your claws off your old assets, can you? Of course this whole 'massacre' bullshit is gonna screw everything up, and please tell me you didn't have a hand in it."

"Only as of this moment, I assure you," Morrow answered with a small nod.

"I was a good soldier out there," Kell said with conviction, certain in his knowledge. "I followed my orders, and I gave my troops good orders for the mission. We all did a damn fine job of it, like we'd always did for your CSB dirty work. But all this though: I cannot believe how ungrateful these loudmouth pansy-ass shits at home are, balking in the face of what needs to be done."

"And I don't disagree, but please Kellam, do try to understand it from their perspective," the lady wolf said in a calm, but nearly insulting tone. "Your brutal style of command may have been perfectly acceptable during covert CSB operations, and the Bureau was happy to keep public exposure to a minimum. Things are different when your work is unclassified though, out there for all to see–"

"Oh cut the sassy 'I told you so' shit, Gil!" Kell spat, staring down Morrow with a harsh, defiant gaze. "I know you didn't come all the way out here, gracing me with your elusive presence, just to rub my nose in it. So what's your play here? Are you gonna have the charges against me lifted in exchange for a 'favor', or for a part in some foul-tasting scheme of yours? You may be smart as a whip, and mighty careful, but you're not half as sophisticated as you like to think."

This near-accusation gave Morrow pause, but only a brief moment of it, enough to take a short breath to center herself and prepare her reply.

"Listen to me very carefully Kellam: things are moving quickly now," she said in a slight huff, betraying a small crack in her cold, hard demeanor. "A formal Court-Martial will be convened for this inelegant mess you've made. You will be found in violation of a number of articles of the Cornerian General Articles for Military Law, for which you will be discharged from the Cornerian Army."

"Whatever, get to your point already," Kell snorted as he rolled eyes and folded his arms.

That's when Morrow added, with a subtle knowing smirk, "afterward, you will be contacted by a representative of the Venom Project, possibly Dr. Andross himself."

"That a fact?" the husky said with raised eyebrows, half mocking, but also intrigued and curious.

"You will be offered a job, which I suspect will be some form of military contract agreement, and you will take the job." Morrow leaned in toward Kell at those last words, with a sharp glare in her eye that was accustomed to having orders followed without question.

"Now why would I go and do a silly thing like that?" Kell asked with sarcastic defiance, turning away from the icy lady wolf with an exaggerated shrug.

"From what I understand the pay is quite competitive, the benefits package is exceptional, not to mention you'll have a difficult time finding any other work with Corneria once word of this gets out–"

"So that's your play?!" Kell Zura said as he spun back around, fuming at Morrow. "You're trying the 'do as I say or you'll never work in this town again' routine with me!? You must think I'm a goddamn pussy after all these years to–"

"I'm not threatening you, Kellam!" the lady wolf snapped, clenching her fists at her sides in rare fit of outrage. "This story about the 'Massacre on Fortuna' is going to break, it will break over your head hard, and there's simply nothing to be done about it. CSB has influence and pull, but not enough to contain something this large and obvious. There are many things we simply can't stop from getting out, no matter how we may wish them not to. I'm merely trying to salvage something from this terrible mess: a mess of your own making, no less."

Seeing this, Kell just walked in a circle, enjoying this small breakdown in someone who put on such an outwardly tough, clean, controlling facade. Eventually, once he had his small nugget of satisfaction, he let out a sigh and an amused chuckle. Gillian Morrow, for all the authority she commanded now, for all the care with which she maneuvered her pieces across the game board, still had such a hard time with someone who'd rather flip the table than play the game taking place on top of it.

"Look, don't put on the 'I care' act for me, Gil," Kell said, giving a dismissive hand-wave. "You don't wear it well and I'm not convinced by it. You need me for something, or you wouldn't bother with the rough-edged likes of me."

"For whatever it may be worth, Kellam, it's not an act," Morrow said, shaking her head slowly before composing herself. "Besides, I prefer to see this as 'seizing an opportunity'."

"Then tell me Gil: exactly what 'opportunity' am I to you and your precious web of schemes?" Kell asked, his words almost a laugh in their tone.

The lady wolf didn't give much outward response to Zura's provocative cynicism, merely squinting her gaze a bit before she responded in full, "I'm playing the Long Game with the Venom Project, but I confess that things have hit a snag, and I need to come at this challenge with a new strategy. For quite some time now, I've been attempting to plant a deep cover asset in the Venom Project, but everyone I've sent before has been found out, and I never hear from them again."

"And of all the many contacts you have, little old me is the best angle you got?" the husky officer asked, nearly scoffing. "I figured you're desperate, but... wow."

"On the contrary, Kellam: you are precisely the kind of man I can use on the inside, because you are precisely the kind of man Andross will want to acquire," Morrow explained with a cool air of certainty and smugness. "You're a capable commander, discharged from the Cornerian military, now with a chip on your shoulder because of it. Distressingly few people I know fit the bill so nicely, and you're on the very top of that short list."

"Well consider me flattered then," Kell said, dramatically holding a hand to his chest in a mockery of humility. "And what about this little snag of yours though, how do you figure I get past it? You said yourself that you can't get any of your regular agents in, and I'm sure you know better than anyone: I'm no spook."

"Quite right, Kellam," Morrow agreed with a small nod. then she explained in careful, measured words, "for this operation to succeed, your cover will need to be so deep, that not even you will be aware of it. To put it bluntly: the memory of our meeting and conversation here will need to be erased from your mind, but only temporarily."

"You gotta be shitting me– is that even possible?" Kell asked, and rightly so.

Of all the methods Kell Zura knew to resist interrogation, to actually remove memories from someone's mind could never happen. It was something more at home in a fanciful story, as opposed to a viable technique. For her part though, Gillian Morrow didn't miss a beat, and went right on explaining, walking and talking circles around the hardened soldier as she did.

"A great many things are possible now that weren't since we last met, including targeted memory alteration," she confirmed. "Once the procedure is complete, you will forget that we ever had this meeting, but the memory can be recalled at a later time."

Kell kept turning as he listened, never allowing his back to be turned to the lady wolf. "When would I get my memory back, exactly?"

"Before I answer, I have a question of my own for you," Morrow said, coming to a stop and letting the moment stretch a bit longer. "When you joined the Cornerian military, you swore an oath of loyalty, for the protection of Corneria and its people, to do whatever the mission requires of you to that end. Do you still stand by that oath now?"

"Never once have I wavered in it, and I'm glad to serve my world in any effective capacity," Kell answered without the slightest hesitation.

"I'm quite pleased to hear you say that," the lady wolf said, her firm stance relaxing just enough to notice. "When it is time for you to carry out your mission, someone will be in contact. They will have the means to restore your memory, along with necessary mission details. It may be months, possibly even years, but I promise your service to Corneria in doing this will be absolutely invaluable–"

"Wait. I didn't say 'yes' yet," the husky said, cutting her off. "There's something I have to ask before I agree to anything."

"Of course. By all means: ask."

"Will my family be cared for?" Kell asked firmly, but with a quiet gravity. "Will Tess and Sasha be safe while this all goes down? Both while I'm undercover and during the final mission itself?"

"They are nearly as much my own family as they are yours," Morrow replied with a refreshing warmth to her words. "You can be assured that I will do everything in my considerable capacity to ensure their utmost safety."

\


Patronizing Patriotism


/

Sasha Zura and Gillian Morrow sat opposite one another in one of the small prefabricated structures in the hidden cave safe house. It was a rudimentary break-room or lounge, not unlike the structures of a construction site for the benefit of the workers, or a recreation tent of a military camp for the convenience of the posted soldiers. There were a few chairs, a few tables, a water cooler, a coffee pot, and not much else. It was of little concern to Sasha however, as she simply sat, and listened to the audio recording of Morrow meeting with her father, giving him his undercover assignment: the assignment that sent Sasha and her family to live as Cornerian expatriates on Macbeth.

The two canid ladies could not have been more different from one another if they'd tried. Gillian Morrow presented herself calm and stoic, wearing crisp and clean outfit that exuded a sense of control. Sasha in complete contrast was still dirty and unkempt from the rigors of the journey she'd just finished. Had circumstances been more ordinary, the young husky would have been embarrassed to be seen in such a state of disarray. As things were though, all of Sasha's attention and concerns were focused on the strange wolf woman from her father's past, and the recorded evidence she'd provided as proof of their connection.

When the audio recording of that meeting finished, Sasha was at a loss for words, yet still felt obligated to reply somehow, "I... don't know what to say. I don't even know where to start."

"In that case, I'll fill in what I can. Our available time is short, so I'll be succinct," Morrow said in a quick, dry tone. "You and I share genetics because your mother had some medical complications with becoming pregnant –I believe the issue was with her ovarian viability– and she required the assistance of an egg donor. Your mother did birth you, carried you during pregnancy, but she could not conceive you, which is why I offered to be a donor. I assume you're familiar with the general concepts of surrogacy and embryonic transfer."

"I am, but why were you the donor, and not someone else?" Sasha asked, "Was it because of the history between you and my father?"

"The nature of my past relationship with Kellam was fairly straightforward," the white wolf answered, "but an Intelligence lifestyle has a way of complicating even the simplest of social pleasantries."

"You don't have to tell me twice," Sasha agreed, all too familiar with the complexities Morrow was referring to.

"Indeed," the white wolf lady concurred with a small nod. "Before he met your mother, Kellam and I were close, intimately so for a time. After my career in the CSB took off though, your father and I grew apart, and we ceased our intimacies. He met Teresa shortly after, and they hit it off quite swimmingly."

"There's got to be more to it than that." Sasha said, her curiosity still not sated.

"What more is there to say?" Morrow replied, giving a small shrug. "Our careers crossed paths in the past, when your father was an ambitious junior officer and I a CSB field operative. We worked well together, came to admire one another, then liked and eventually loved each other. For a time I even once considered starting a family, chiefly with Kellam. Once I began rising through the ranks of the Bureau, that all fell by the wayside, and we only kept in occasional contact. After some time, through my information network I use to monitor contacts, I heard of Teresa's fertility challenges. I offered your father my assistance as an egg donor, and I believe you know the rest from there: you've lived it your entire life. It wasn't until your father's unfortunate mission to Fortuna that we ever spoke again."

"That must have been hard for you, to have a 'daughter' and not be involved in her life," Sasha offered, with a small bit of sympathy, "to see your old lover raise her: a reminder of a life and legacy you might have had."

Hearing this, Morrow slowly shook her head.

"It's quite the opposite, actually. You are a chance for me to have a 'daughter', and I believe it's better this way," the lady wolf corrected. "I would have been a very poor mother to any child of mine, always absent, constantly engrossed in my work, similar to your father with his long deployments away. Teresa has been good for you, and for that I am grateful, as I'm sure she is grateful to have you as the daughter she otherwise couldn't have." Through all this, Gilliam Morrow's words only wavered only a small bit, but they did waver. "As for being involved in your life now, what better way than to help you help your father complete his mission: Kellam is on his way here as we speak."

The news hit Sasha harder than she thought it would. It was a spike of panic, a tremor of worry, but also a thrum of excitement and anticipation. It was the first tangible news from the other side since Rick had taken her, and she had to know more.

"And you know this for sure?"

"I have my sources, and I trust their accuracy," Morrow confirmed with a small nod, keeping her professional cool while Sasha's passions began to flare up.

"What else do you know?" the husky soldier asked, her tone bordering on an outright demand. "What's going on?"

"Your father, along with a contingent of his most loyal soldiers, as well as your Special Forces squad-mates; Fletcher, Xavier and Vance; are supporting Connor Griffon's pursuit operation against us. They have all recently departed aboard on the Enigma: a former Lylat Central Intelligence cruiser now in the service of Venom. You don't have to take my word for it though, or Richard's, or anyone's. It's my hope that you will confirm all this for yourself, see it firsthand, and have many of your burning questions answered by by Kellam himself."

Morrow was efficient and judicious with her words, and she seemed to know exactly the right ones to say to keep Sasha's attention and focus. On the one hand, the prospect of seeing her father in this time of crisis was an exciting boost, something to look forward to. Yet in the back of her mind, there was a small nagging sense that this was just a bit too convenient, that the news was just too good. Her father's skepticism and cynicism she heard in that recording began creeping up into Sasha's own thoughts, and sure enough, Morrow had something...

"The time has come for your father to recall his memories and complete his mission," the older lady wolf declared. "To do that, I need to send someone to him to trigger the memory recall, and you Captain Zura are exceptionally well positioned to do just that."

Just like her father, Gillian Morrow had a plan that involved Sasha. Part of her had a thought wondering if this was the real reason she was singled out for this daring, audacious operation. Another part had a lot more questions about everything that just popped up now, and was getting such mixed signals. These however had to wait, at least a little longer, until she heard what Gillian Morrow had to say

"But, if my father is aboard the Enigma as part of Griffon's mission, how am I supposed to get to him?" Sasha asked, working to control the flames heating up inside her. She used her rigors of military and spec-ops training as a furnace: an engine to harness her passions, and set it to work.

"Griffon is a clever operative with all the resources of Venom at his disposal," Morrow explained. "We never expected to fully evade the manhunt, and we're certain that he'll track us to Titania in fairly short order. The Enigma will be coming to us, and I know just how we can get you to infiltrate Griffon's operation, if you're ready for a comprehensive mission plan."

"Lets hear it."

She would listen, and she would assess, and she would make her choices and carry out her actions when the moment was right...

"We'll start with the overall mission goal: the capture of the Enigma, and of Connor Griffon. It's a tall order, but your father and his soldiers are our edge. They are far more loyal to Kellam personally than to Venom, and if they need convincing, knowledge of Red Dust should be more than enough to sway them..."

\


/

After exiting the shuttle that brought him to the surface, Connor Griffon walked through Engineer-General Aster's camp in the middle of the desert on Titania, trying not to be baked alive by the merciless midday heat.

The Enigma was around, hovering somewhere far overhead, well hidden from the otherwise curious prying eyes of Aster's unit with her stealth field engaged. He didn't want to alert too many on the ground of anything amiss if he could help it, plus the vanishing act Connor and his assets could pull because of a hidden ship had a way of adding to the mystique of espionage, which garnered at least a small bit of respect from other allied services. With the avian spy here was the Macbeth spec-ops team Theta Four, Sasha's old unit. It wasn't that Connor was expecting trouble here and now, though knowing Titania's deserts and Rick's insidious ways there very well could be, and Aster's entourage could cover them in that improbable event. Having a team, or most of a team, that Connor was familiar with gave him a small bit of comfort when he entered what amounted to another ringmaster's circus, and Engineer-General Suleiman Aster was definitely one of the more eccentric personalities of Venom's top leadership.

The camp itself was absolutely abuzz with activity. Vehicles crisscrossed the encampment and surrounding area, some on patrol and others ferrying supplies. Structures of all sorts were being built on-site, ranging from simple tents to a few full buildings. In all this, what stood out to Connor the most was how few people there were in spite of the work. Specialized robots or worker drones all went about their duties in assembling the camp with relentless precision and efficiency, while overseers or foremen monitored them. Every now and then though, a live soldier would walk by, but to call these particular personnel 'people' would be a stretch, as they were Venom Shadow-Guard. Just like those who served Andross directly, these grim soldiers wore the same all-black uniform, with the same faceless mask and visor, walking in the same lock-step rigid fashion as the others with the same deadly state-of-the-art weapons in their hands. For all intents and purposes, they appeared almost as rigid and single-minded as the machines themselves. Given what the Avian spy knew of Andross's Shadow Guard initiative, he had to wonder just how much of a person was left after they underwent the extensive augmentation procedures, conditioning, and training for Shadow Guard...

Yet over everything, over the bustling activity of a military base being assembled on the spot in the middle of nowhere, there loomed a singular ghastly sight. Some distance from the camp, surrounded by several husks of burnt out or crushed vehicles, was a gigantic, skeletal colossus: the Goras. It wasn't moving at the moment, laying hunched forward with its 'head' slumped on the sand, while a swarm of sharp, dagger-shaped drones circled around it, containing it, watching it, examining it, working on it.

Observing this archaic monstrosity and its steely guardians to the exclusion of all else around him, was Engineer-General Suleiman Aster. He was a tall, slim reptilian figure with brown and beige scale patterning, standing statue-still with his arms behind his back. He wore what Connor could best surmise as a kind of 'militarized lab-coat' that somehow stayed a bright brilliant white, untainted by even the merest scrap of dust or sand. In addition to his impossibly white coat, Aster sported a sleek, compact headset, and a neatly arranged variety of other equipment that Griffon couldn't readily identify. Knowing the reputation of the Engineer-Generals though, he could guess that they'd be highly advanced, highly effective, and far more capable than appearances would let on–

"It's Magnificent, don't you think?" Engineer-General Aster said as Connor approached, not even turning to face the avian spymaster, and kept his steady gaze on the subdued Goras.

"It's quite a sight, I'll give it that," the avian spy replied, then moved right into the matter at hand. "I need all the information on the fugitives that escaped your convoy–"

"Yes, I know," Aster said coolly, but sharply. "They disabled the tracking device on the vehicle they stole, and departed during the storm while we were engaged against the Goras. There are no tracks to follow: not physical, digital or otherwise."

"I was afraid of that," Connor said with a slight grumble. "Alright then, I'll need–"

"This," Aster interrupted as he turned around, and presented the spymaster with a thumb-sized data chip. "I've taken the liberty of compiling all relevant data you should need to track down your lost fugitives. Most helpful to you is the model and capabilities of the vehicle they stole, and recent survey data of the surrounding area. They can't have gotten far."

"That was good thinking," Connor said as he accepted the data chip, somewhat unsettled. "Thanks."

"Clean up this mess quickly, Mr. Griffon," Engineer-General Aster said as he turned back to the Goras. "As you can see, I have other pressing matters to attend to."

\


/

Once she'd heard Morrw's plan, Sasha left the little prefab structure and stepped back out to the island, but with far more questions now instead of answers. The wide cavern and still lake surrounding her were quiet, but far from silent. All around there was a low din of distant activity on the far shore, carried and echoed all over. It was conversations, gear being checked and prepped, supplies being moved. It was as if everyone else here had rehearsed and practiced their parts in a grand show, and opening night was upon them. Yet for all their preparedness, Sasha Zura felt like she'd only just been given her script, and that she was supposed to play the lead role in all this...

She spotted Rick Cooney nearby, talking with a tall hulk of a reptilian man: one of the desert bikers by his impressive armor and weapon load-out. She didn't hear much of the exchange between them as she approached, but caught a little bit when she got within a few feet...

"Our preparations are complete," the reptile said in a raspy, accented Cornerian. "We will be ready when the time comes."

Before the old raccoon could reply, he noticed Sasha by their side, and a look on her face that had a very long list of unspoken demands etched in her features.

"Can you give us a minute?" Rick said to the reptilian man.

"Of course," the other said with a nod, and walked off, leaving Sasha alone with this conniving old spy.

For a few moments, Sasha simply looked out across the lake, toward the other end of the bridge the reptilian man was walking across, to where the more populated part of this hidden compound was. Neither of them said anything, but she was well aware of his presence by her side: patiently waiting for Sasha to let loose with all her indignation and outrage. She half-wished Rick would've been more uncomfortable, more squeamish, more awkward now that She knew so much more, but he was a long-time spy, and had probably dealt with many such 'awkward' conversations in his career.

"I'm not even going to ask why you never mentioned Morrow before now: I wouldn't have believed you if you did," the husky finally soldier said, her words tasting sour and bitter, but more at the situation than the person she was talking with. "I can't talk to any of you people without uncovering some nasty conspiracy or festering plot."

"Welcome to the wonderful world of spies," Rick said with a nonchalant shrug. "It's kind of like an onion: usually buried underground, lots of layers, and cutting into it raises a stink that can make the toughest of us cry."

"Yeah right, next you'll tell me how great it is for cooking too," Sasha said, rolling her eyes at the analogy.

"And in so many delicious, nutritious ways," the raccoon said, matching her sardonic drawl. "What did she tell you?"

Briefly, Sasha filled Rick in on what Morrow had just revealed about her past with father, and relayed the details of the plan she had for infiltrating the Enigma.

"And, what do you think of Morrow's plan?" Rick asked once he was caught up. "What's your opinion on it?"

"It's a good plan, and it makes an embarrassing amount of sense, actually," Sasha confessed.

"Embarrassing?" the old spy replied, intrigued. "How so?"

"What I'm supposed to do in the plan –the story I'm supposed to sell to Griffon when I meet with him– it's pretty much exactly what I would've done not too long ago, if given the chance."

"That's why it's a good plan," Rick affirmed, but without much enthusiasm.

"How the hell can you trust her?" Sasha said, letting out a small bit of her outrage. "Didn't that iceberg of a hag try to kill you?"

"Yeah, she did, along with at least a hundred other people across Lylat, including yourself I might add," Rick answered, tilting his head toward Sasha with a raised eyebrow. "I can't really take these things personally. For that matter, I don't really 'trust' Morrow, and I know she doesn't trust me. We both simply happen to have resources the other needs, so we grit our teeth, hold our tongues, and press on until the mission is complete."

"Sounds like the story of my life lately," Sasha grumbled.

"I know, better than most would ever know," the old spy said, while his tone lost all notes of sarcasm, and he turned to Sasha with complete sincerity. "It's why I'm going to offer you a chance to get out of this mission right here, right now."

"What do you mean?" Sasha asked. "I thought my role was integral to this mission."

"Useful and highly valuable, yes, but a good operative always has other options," Rick explained. "Morrow absolutely won't tell you this, but I will: we do have other options, and I am prepared to carry them out."

"Why would you risk compromising such a solid plan?" the husky asked, utterly baffled at the offer.

"Why would you go along with that same plan in the first place?" Rick asked in reply, and went on explaining, "Gillian Morrow is some strange woman you've never met, claims to know your father, and wants to rope you into one of her ultimately self-serving schemes. Not to get too bogged down in soap-opera drama here, but there's an awfully conspicuous reason why your father and Morrow broke off their relationship years ago, and it had nothing to do with their career paths."

"The fact that she's a power-hungry, manipulative, control-freak?" Sasha said bitterly, looking back at the nearby prefab with a dirty snarl. "Yeah that's pretty obvious, and it would've driven my dad nuts."

"And now she's trying to win you over into her web using similarly calculated, manipulative tactics," Rick warned.

"Don't you do the same?" the husky countered.

"Similar sorts of goals maybe, but different means, and vastly different results." Rick then turned out across the lake, motioning toward the busy compound on the other side. "Look around at this place for instance, and see the people who call it home, who allow us to be their guests despite the dire risk it puts them in. How do you think all this came about?"

"They're some of your contacts with Lylat Central Intelligence," Sasha answered, "Griffon mentioned you had a widespread network of contacts."

"Partly true, but the Agency is gone now," the old spy corrected, with a small twinge of regret seeping in. "Its members either killed, absorbed into other outfits, or scattered. Its logistics and support structure obliterated or claimed by others. You said it yourself before: I'm not really 'anyone' without a higher government or major benefactor at my back. The smart play for these caravaners should be to capture us and turn us over to Venom and yet, here we are."

"They are sticking their necks pretty far out for a cranky old ghost and the ice-queen," Sasha agreed. "Alright then, tell me what happened: tell me the lesson you're itching to teach."

"Some years back, I and some of my allies at the time helped these desert caravaners out of a major jam, much to their relief," the raccoon replied.

"Did it have anything to do with that skylight we came down through?" the husky asked, pointing up to the shaft above them.

"Short answer: yes," Rick answered briefly before continuing. "We kept in touch afterward, helped each other out when we needed it. Though there were exchanges of funds, goods and services, that wasn't the main reason we cooperated. The reason this works, the reason we can use their hidden, fortified sanctum as a safe house, is because the people and leadership here trust me. I earned their trust through decisive, beneficial action for them at great risk to myself. It's because of this carefully cultivated and maintained relationship of trust that we're still welcome here, even without the support of Lylat Central Intelligence at my back.

"Agent Morrow on the other hand prefers to approach potential assets that are compromised or vulnerable, and offer them a 'way out' through service to the CSB, and to herself especially. If she wants to, she'll go so far as to deliberately and cruelly sabotage someone's life in preparation for her approach. Once she has them, Morrow likes to further instill a sense of personal loyalty to herself, mainly by rewards those who carry out her personal agenda, 'rescuing' her assets when they get into trouble, even though the 'trouble' is usually staged of her own design. And when push comes to shove –which with Morrow is disgustingly often– she'll unleash an arsenal of often fabricated blackmail against those that oppose her, letting the public and those in authority tear down her mark without having to lift a finger herself. This last point alone gets even more unsettling when you start to find out just how many key points of authority for Corneria are in Agent Morrow's pocket–"

"Rick..." Sasha interrupted, her words aching with a barely contained pain, "Just... stop talking..."

"What's wrong?" the raccoon asked, though the way he asked it seemed as if he already knew what was wrong.

"I... I have to know something. Did Morrow set my father up?" Sasha asked. It was a thought that was in the back of her mind ever since hearing the recording, but needed certainty one way or another now. "Did the Cornerian Security Bureau ruin a good man's career, trash his reputation, and mess with his mind just to have someone inside Venom? Is Agent Gillian Morrow the reason why my family's life and mine are so screwed up?"

"What does the answer mean to you?" Rick asked quietly, carefully.

That was all she needed to hear.

Sasha grabbed the older raccoon by his shirt collar and wrenched him to within an inch of her glaring, furious face.

"Don't you dare pussyfoot around this issue old man! This is crazy operation of yours just got utterly personal, and I deserve a full explanation goddammit!"

"Sasha, listen to me," Rick said in a low, but commendably calm voice given his compromised position. "Whatever rage you feel against her, whatever unforgivable sins Gillian Morrow has committed and plans to commit still, I implore you not to take it out against the very people your father swore his oath of loyalty to protect. Though Agent Morrow represents so much of what's wrong with Corneria's leadership right now, she does not represent Corneria's people. Don't let them all suffer needlessly in order to satisfy your need for vengeance. Remember why you're here, what's at stake. I'm asking you –begging you– not to sabotage this operation."

"Is that what you're afraid I'll do?" Sasha spat, shoving Rick away. "Is that why you want me out of the picture, why you offered me a way out of all this?"

"Yes, but it's a choice: something Morrow won't ever give you, even if she pretends to," the old spy insisted while he fixed his ruffled clothes. "You want to hurt Morrow, I understand, that's fine. Quite frankly she deserves it, and as not-her-biggest-fan myself I'm happy to help you do it, but I won't see your fury flare out of control and compromise this operation. Bowing out of the mission is one way to slip out of Morrow's grasp, to deny her what she wants out of you."

"And what exactly does that conceited bitch want from me?" the husky soldier demanded.

"After this operation is a success according to how she planned it, Agent Gillian Morrow will use her role in this mission as a means to pressure you into thinking you owe her something," Rick explained, in a more desperate tone now. "She'll establish herself as a 'savior' to you and your family, while keeping your previous service to Macbeth and Venom Intelligence under wraps in case she needs blackmail material. Link by link she'll try to put a chain around you that she can hold you down with, lead you where she wants you to go, or strangle you with if it comes to it. In so doing, Morrow will add you to her 'private collection' of assets that she can call up and order to do whatever shady, under-the-table dirty work she wants, whenever she wants, without question. She wants to turn you into her patsy, her minion, her slave."

"Okay, fine," Sasha sighed as she rolled her eyes. "Let's say I don't go along with Morrow's plan: what's your genius backup plan?"

"I'd surrender myself to Connor and his crew, offer information on Gillian Morrow as my bargaining chip," Rick explained, "Once I'm inside, then I go to work, I'd talk with your father, let him know you're alright–"

"That's insane!" Sasha said in a stern, indignant voice, cutting him off, "It's practically suicide!"

"It's a gamble," Rick admitted, "but everything is in a spy's line of work."

"Hell, I thought Morrow's plan was risky, but yours is just plain stupid!" the soldier scolded, like she was berating Sergeant Fletcher for something foolhardy. "Thanks for the thought and all, but I can't let you do something that crazy. I have to see this mission through, I have to do what I know is right. Even if doing it helps Agent Morrow in her disgusting power-plays, I've got to make the most of it while I can. I owe my father a chance at true freedom, and I should be the one to give him that chance– to give him that choice."

"Heh, now you're really starting to think like a spy," Rick said with a smirk, and a bit of pride. "Whatever happens though, I want you to realize this one truth: you owe nobody your allegiance, not Morrow, not me, not Venom or Macbeth or Corneria. You are as free as you choose to be, but it's a choice you need to make for yourself, and it's a choice best made well informed. Think about that when you see Kell."

"When I see him..." Sasha muttered quietly. "After all that's happened, it still sounds so weird when I hear it, feels weird to think about. What do I tell him? What can I even say at a time like this?"

At this, the older raccoon laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, saying, "just tell him what he needs to hear, the rest will fall into place after that."

Then Rick turned back across the lake, giving a wide gesture across the expanse of the cave with his free hand.

"It's opening night: the stage is set, the crew is in place, and the audience is filing in. What do you say? You ready to be the star of this show?"

"As they say: the show must go on."

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Author Note:

Well then, It's taken a lot longer than I'd intended, but the pieces are getting in place for the climax. My apologies to those who I follow that have updated their stories lately. You know who you are, and you can definitely expect a response to the new content soon.

As always, your feedback and responses are most welcome. Thank you again.