State of Corneria Address,
Nolan Soreno, President of Corneria.

Now that our courageous and masterful operatives of the Cornerian Security Bureau have unveiled the true, sinister nature of the Venom project, I can only come to one conclusion, and I'm sure you would reach the same:

The failed, subversive Lylat Union is the enemy of a free and prosperous Corneria, and the enemy of a free and prosperous Lylat System!

For decades since its inception, we have payed the lion's share of our hard-earned credits into the funding and functioning of the Union, and what have we got to show for it? They hem us in, holding back our full potential to do good, and they withhold vital information that cost many lives; lives we could have saved! The Lylat Union's meddlesome Interpatrol fleet and system-spanning regulations hamstring our ability to effectively intervene abroad for the betterment of all Lylat! When we dare to voice our concerns, Union Congress does nothing but drag its heels and spin its wheels in the putrid mud of unnecessary procedures and hearings.

And what has happened because of all this? Cerinia, an entire world unto itself, is gone –obliterated from the face of the universe– because of the Lylat Union's failures! Complete and utter catastrophe on a scale never before seen has struck, and so much blood now stains the idle hands of those who chose not to prevent it.

Worst and most outrageous of all, Lylat Central Intelligence has aided and abetted the founders and leaders of the so-called Coalition of Venom: a vicious terrorist group determined to overthrow our legitimate, free planetary governments!

I am here today to tell everyone: this ends now! Effective immediately, Corneria withdraws from the Lylat Union! Furthermore, I encourage all free worlds of Lylat to do the same!

The rotten Lylat Union is little more than an obsolete relic from a wild time, when renegade spacers rampaged free across Lylat's, before we had the means to police and protect our own in space. Those times are long past. Today, the Cornerian Space Fleet –together with our valiant Cornerian Army– is the biggest, the best, the most advanced military force in all Lylat: more than a match for whoever dares take up arms in anger in our beautiful system, or beyond!

In all aspects –economically, militarily, and politically– Corneria is stronger, and capable of far more good when we are free to act on our own terms, not beholden to some antiquated drivel or long outdated treaties. My fellow citizens of this fine world, the time has come for us to do great things together!

Forward and upward, Corneria leads the way!

\


Ghosts of Their Own Making


/

The whole thing reeked from the very start.

My unit was called into action without any prior notification or warning, without any information about the mission given. It's standard Cornerian military practice to not disclose vital details of sensitive missions to soldiers until the last possible instant. It's supposedly to keep intel from leaking, but in practice, it's mainly meant to keep those at the bottom of the chain of command from having enough time or information to question orders or recommend improvements, to keep the military machine turning smoothly. All we had was a location to report to and a time to arrive, and not much time to get there. A short range military transport was waiting for us when we reported in, with our commanding officer standing just outside. Only then did we get our first hints at the mission in store for us.

"Gear up, boys. It's gonna be a hot drop." Captain Edgar Tennant –a narrow-faced, sharp-eyed gray furred hound– ordered.

A 'hot drop' as we called it was a high-altitude aerial insertion into an actively hostile target area. It's exceedingly dangerous, and I admit I was a bit nervous as I climbed the rear loading ramp into the transport. The necessary equipment the Dragoons used for that kind of mission was already loaded aboard, so we geared up just as ordered, right there in the loading bay while we took off.

In short, our kit included armor, a G-diffuser and thruster rig with a phantom module and personal shield generator, not to mention our small arms and the Dragoon's iconic impact sword. To accommodate the high-altitude drop, our gear also included extra thruster fuel, extra power cells, and the armor had a pressure seal and breathing apparatus for the descent. The ride was easily smooth enough for us to don our gear in-transit, so wherever we were headed must have been close by on Corneria, and with secure airspace overhead. Still, I didn't have any ideas off the top of my head where we were headed.

"Anybody know what this is all about?" I asked my fellow Dragoon's while I fitted the armor.

"Ours is to execute the mission, not idly speculate," Captain Edgar Tennant said quietly from the edge of the space while he watched. "We'll know soon enough."

"A hundred credits says it has to do with Soreno's chest-thumping earlier today," one of the other Dragoons piped up. His name was Daniel Beck, a stout brown canid with a square-shaped face and muzzle, and one of the more lively of the Dragoons. "My bet is there's a hard LCI target the higher-ups have in mind, and they want the best of the best to crack it," he finished, pounding a fist into his open hand.

"You're not wrong, soldier," a new voice replied from behind Captain Tennant: a lady's voice. A pale wolf woman in modest civilian dress entered into the transport's loading bay as she introduced herself, "my name is Gillian Morrow, Special Agent of the CSB, and I have your mission details. Your orders today are straight from the top, for the safety of Corneria, and all Lylat beyond."

At that moment, a holographic projection of a map appeared in the center of the loading bay. It was a tactical display, showing several icons that represented Cornerian military units arranged around a target area. It wasn't far outside Corneria City itself: LCI Headquarters Corneria.

"The Army has set a perimeter around the LCI Cornerian headquarters compound, and the Space Navy has the airspace overhead locked down," Morrow elaborated while she slowly paced around the projection. "Our enemy is surrounded, contained, with no immediate means of escape. We've offered them the chance to surrender, but they've chosen to resist instead, so we'll have to do this the the hard way. Given the sensitivity of our target, the shortage of time, and the elusive, inventive, exceedingly dangerous nature of our enemy, we can't afford to turn this into a drawn-out siege, which makes you 'the hard way'."

"How hard can it be to take down a few spooks?" Beck, the stout betting Dragoon from before asked, "especially with the Army and Navy backing us up?"

"Have you ever fought against an expert spy, let alone several buildings full of them?" the pale lady wolf asked.

The square-faced Dragoon backed down a bit, giving a small shrug as he mumbled, "well, I..."

"Fighting a spy is always more difficult than you think it'll be." Morrow insisted, "Luckily for you, I'm up to their tricks. The headquarters compound is protected by multiple layers of defense:"

As Morrow explained, the relevant points of interest were highlighted on the holographic display, accompanied by images and specifications of the systems.

"For starters, the whole compound is protected by an umbrella of the toughest state-of-the-art barrier shielding available. The firepower we'd have to use to break through it would obliterate the entire facility and surrounding area, and that's not our goal here. We need the facility intact. There's also a blanket of fixed anti-air and point-defense weapons ranging from automated blaster emplacements to missile racks and anti-ship railgun batteries. These are supported by a compliment of mobile combat drones, further supplemented by on-site security personnel. Last is a signal interference field that disrupts all comms transmissions, so you'll be dropping into radio silence. All this is at the disposal of some of the sharpest strategic and tactical minds in all Lylat."

"Now that's a bit more like it!" Beck cheered as he slapped his knee. "Wouldn't want it to be too easy now would we?"

Most of us weren't as excited about the mission as Beck though. My fellow Dragoons and I just stood there, studying the information, running through scenarios in our heads, and dreading the mess of complications that we knew could be waiting for us once we arrived. Morrow wasn't done with us yet, and she continued her briefing.

"I'm having your neural interfaces updated with exact target details and the facility layout. Most of it is fairly straightforward; power sources and vital components for the shield, communications arrays, weapon systems and jamming transmitters; everything to cripple the compound's defenses to prepare for the main assault. Do not engage hostile forces if at all possible, break through the defenses and disable your targets only. The army is standing by to support you once you've cleared the way."

I knew what that meant, and I probably should've kept my mouth shut when I groaned, "great, then those trigger-happy meat-heads can all gloat about how they 'saved our asses' when it's all over."

Captain Tennant gave me a slight look of disappointment, but didn't press the issue, partly because Morrow still wasn't done with us yet.

"There's one additional objective, highly classified," the pale wolf lady said as she turned off the holographic projection. "It is to be pursued once the army group begins their assault, and you will support their part of the mission, but the opportunity may arise beforehand–"

"What's the objective?" I asked, starting to grow a bit impatient by now.

Morrow gave a small subtle huff, but was otherwise undeterred, answering, "Lylat Central Intelligence, and this headquarters facility in particular, is harboring many enemies to Corneria, including several known associates of and collaborators with Dr. Andross. Most are slated for capture and interrogation, but there are some for whom we can't take that risk. For those lucky few, a kill-on-sight list has been uploaded to your neural interfaces along with your primary mission. If you see anyone on the short list, your system will identify your targets automatically, and you will eliminate them."

I don't think any of us were really comfortable with the idea of moonlighting as assassins for this mission, but it didn't matter. We had our orders, we had a job to do, and Morrow was the one issuing them for the mission. As Captain Tennant said before: ours was to execute the mission, not idly speculate. Still, I couldn't help but notice the frustrated furrowed brows of my fellow Dragoons showed, or the small uncomfortable fidgeting when Morrow gave us our final objective.

Seeing all this, knowing our concerns, I asked, "so, the army soldiers will just let us shoot our targets, right in the open, even if they've already surrendered or been captured? Most soldiers don't take too kindly to a field execution of unarmed prisoners."

It was my roundabout way of raising the concerns I knew we all had without directly implying our reluctance. With the words said, we all looked to the pale lady wolf giving our orders, asking her in our stoic silence to explain herself, to put into perspective what she demanded of us.

"We can't risk them slipping through, not this time, not anymore," Morrow said, her words wavering just a bit: a fault in her cool composure. "They're spies, experienced operatives, masters of stealth and deception, and they've compromised Corneria for the last time. You see them, you drop them, and I'll handle anyone who stands between you and your mission. Is that understood?"

She glared around the room with cold dagger eyes, almost as if she dared us to question her orders again, but we didn't. We were professionals: loyal, obedient, detached from our personal biases, and utterly dedicated to the tasks given to us. We were fine soldiers.

"Yes ma'am," we all replied in perfect, curt unison.

"Good. We'll reach the drop zone in a few minutes' time," the pale wolf lady said as she turned to leave the loading bay. "Make your final preparations, and I'll see you all again for the debrief."

Before she exited the transport's loading bay, I approached her and said, "Agent Morrow, a question."

"You're awfully inquisitive, sergeant," Morrow observed as she turned to me. She seemed to regard me in particular with equal parts annoyance and curiosity, saying, "but go ahead, ask."

And ask I did, "the targets on your kill list: what exactly did they do to deserve such special treatment from us?"

"Far more harm than I have time to disclose in-full now," the pale lady wolf deflected my question, but didn't outright dismiss it, saying, "perhaps I can fill you in later, if you're truly interested, that is."

"Korvyn! Fall in!" Captain Tennant called out from across the loading bay. "We're about to make our jump."

At hearing my commanding officer's order, I set my concerns aside and followed the steps of my training. I moved into position in-line with the rest of my fellow Dragoons, put on the helmet and sealed it for jump conditions. A sharp hiss sound cut through the chamber as the loading bay was depressurized to match the atmosphere outside. The systems in my helmet booted up and synced with my neural interface, providing me with a convenient readout of my systems and surroundings through the integrated Heads-Up Display. Then I heard Captain Tennant's next words in my system's comm.

"Stand by. Doors open in three, two, one..."

Right on time, the transport's rear loading doors groaned open. A roar of rushing of air took over the surrounding soundscape, and the bright sky outside blinded us all for a moment while our eyes and helmet visors adjusted.

"Jump!" the Captain's voice bellowed into the comm, and we did just that. One by one, the Dragoons and I leaped out of the transport into the vast Cornerian sky. We engaged our G-diffuser and thruster rigs, getting comfortable with our gear for descent, and took in our immediate surroundings.

It was a bright midday sky, with not a cloud to be found as far as we could see. Instead, all around us was a fleet of Cornerian Space Navy starships, hovering above us, looming over the lush landscape and our target below, like a great mass of metallic storm clouds in their own right.

Almost immediately after we jumped, a new and unfamiliar voice chimed in on the comm as we descended, saying, "attention Dragoons, this is Captain Sculley of the CSN Tobar. Stand by for fire mission, maintain present course and speed, wouldn't want to hit any of you by accident. With the kind of heat we're bringing down, even a slight graze would annihilate you..."

"The shot from the Tobar's main plasma canon will create a momentary disruption in the barrier shield," Captain Tennant explained. "On my mark, we phantom jump through the shield's disruption."

The rest of us replied with a chorus of, "aye!"

Below us, the LCI Headquarters compound grew as we neared, plummeting ever closer. The Heads-Up display in my helmet showed a handy overlay of the same tactical information Morrow showed us earlier, including the spherical perimeter of the barrier shield, rapidly coming up beneath us.

"Stand by..." Sculley's voice said while we waited. The outer shell of the barrier could now be seen clearly without aid, shimmering below us against the otherwise empty sky. Then the Navy captain called out, "fire one!"

From one of the starships overhead, a blast from a plasma cannon screamed down past the descending Dragoons, passing so close that I felt the spike in heat, and its light outshined the sun itself for a moment. Then the shot connected with the barrier shield ahead of us in a brilliant flash, one we all raced headlong toward and were nearly on top of–

"Mark!" Tennant called out

Along with the rest of my unit, I engaged the phantom module, and an instant later the brilliant flash was behind us as it flickered out. We made it through.

"We'll soon be entering the jamming field, so we'll be in radio silence until it's disabled." Captain Tennant reminded us. "You have your targets, you know what to do, go get 'em–"

[Signal Lost] was displayed in my HUD, and from that moment on, I would operate this mission alone.

Quickly, I pulled up my target details on the HUD, which highlighted one of the buildings below –a power station concealed beneath an ordinary office building according to my mission data– and I maneuvered my descent vector accordingly. I aimed for a location with minimal defenses and a convenient access point: a back door near the building's utilities. I was grateful for the extensive and comprehensive tactical Intel Agent Morrow had uploaded to our systems, making an otherwise impossible mission not only doable, but fairly straightforward. I can only guess now that Morrow had spent an exhaustive amount of time at this facility, painstakingly mapping it out and checking its systems, all to prepare for this one decisive, surgical strike.

In the final moments of the descent, I flipped into a position to bring the full force of the thruster rig to bear, and started my landing burn. The jolt was sudden when the thrusters kicked on, and the G-forces yanked at my body, making me light-headed for a moment. It was all controlled just so in order to maximize insertion speed and minimize vulnerable deceleration time.

As I rapidly slowed in the air, coming down between a pair of buildings, I activated the personal shield generator and prepped my compact assault rife, keeping a sharp eye out for anything hostile. In my ingrained instincts from training and knowledge from the Intel, I fully expected to encounter heavy resistance upon landing, that I'd have to rapidly disengage, and possibly fight off security automatons or personnel or the like. Instead, there was nothing: no security forces, no drones, no automated defenses, no anything.

I'd say it was quiet, but in actuality it was anything but. Just as I landed and discarded my extra fuel tanks, a PA system blared all around, spewing a stern voice across the headquarters compound.

"Attention Cornerian Soldiers! You are trespassing on designated neutral ground with hostile intent, in direct violation of Lylat Union treaty five, section seventeen, sub-section four A. Stand down, or we will use force to expel your incursion, deadly if necessary. We've analyzed your surrounding fleet and army group, and our defenses will hold against your assault. You will not succeed with a mere show of force."

I ignored the warning of the mystery voice and continued on my way. The Heads-Up display had a direct route to my target overlaid in my vision, through the back door I'd landed nearby. I went about breaching it, planting a small explosive charge on the lock mechanism. Still the voice carried on, and I was made to hear it.

"Fighting and bloodshed isn't necessary. We are willing to discuss terms, but only with your commander, only if you stand down immediately. This is your only warning."

I had absolutely no intention of standing down. I was going to complete my mission. With a satisfying boom, I detonated the charge and forced my way through the compromised door.

The route on my HUD took me through a fairly ordinary storage area, filled with assorted boxes of everyday supplies and cleaning materials, to a narrow staircase down that had been concealed by a shelf.

At this point, I was ready for an ambush to spring out at any time. The anonymous voice of authority had already issued its ultimatum, and I had rejected it soundly with my actions. I was sure at least one surveillance camera must have seen me by now, but stealth wasn't the main focus of my mission: speed and shock was. I had to keep moving forward, to be the relentless battering ram that would break down the door, and make way for the army group waiting outside. So I pressed on.

The staircase brought me down into a drab corridor of concrete and exposed utility lines, with a low hum of electricity permeating the area: a sure sign I was near the hidden power generator.

All the while, I kept my head on a constant swivel, always on the lookout. It made me sick to my stomach how eerily quiet it all was, how no defenses had been implemented, how I encountered no one at all. Maybe an ambush was right around the next corner. Maybe it was rigged with explosives in order to collapse on top of me, or any number of other nasty traps. Maybe the hostile personnel had concentrated their defenses at key positions.

On top of all these concerns racing through my head, the map and tactical display in my HUD was becoming less helpful with every step I took. Where there had once been a handy map of surrounding areas with helpful notes and details, I was soon encountering rooms and hallways that Morrow's Intelligence had no information on whatsoever. Judging by how little wear I saw on the floors and walls, these were maybe built after she'd mapped it out. Regardless, I still had my route laid out before me and a mission to complete, so I followed it swiftly and with the utmost caution...

The route brought me to a large utility door that was nearly as wide as the corridor itself, but this one was open, and the room beyond it was shrouded in darkness. I took a position at the edge of the door and engaged my helmet's thermal display, and found about a dozen warm bodies behind points of cover inside.

This was the ambush I feared, the concentrated defense. In the back of my mind I was a little irked that no one had fired yet, but the routine of my training carried me forward. Looking back now, I should have stopped and thought about things, listened to that little nagging doubt behind the relentless pursuit, but at the time I was a mere instrument of my orders and mission parameters.

Once in position next to the entrance, I prepped a grenade in one hand, held my weapon in the other, quickly verified the readiness of the rest of my equipment, and I proceeded to neutralize the threat. Just as I armed the grenade and was about to toss it into the dark room, I felt a sharp prick at the base of my neck and a sudden weight collapsed on me. In an instant, every major muscle in my body seized up, and my Heads-Up Display informed me of the obvious as I fell face-down to the cold hard floor.

[Paralytic Toxin Detected... Analyzing... Synthesizing Antitoxin...]

The grenade bounced out of my tensed hand when I hit the floor, and slowly rolled to a stop in front of me. For a terrifying moment as I laid helpless there, I was convinced the grenade would detonate next to me before the antitoxin took effect. I was going to die, and it was about to happen so quickly, so suddenly.

That's when a lanky, disheveled figure staggered into my view, and kicked the grenade down the corridor away from us. A few seconds later it detonated with a deep boom that shook me to my core, and slammed my immobile form with a burst of rushing air. The mysterious figure collapsed backward from the blast, landing right next to me, and I saw his face.

[Target Identified: Kill-on-Sight]

I saw Richard Cooney.

"There's... some things I just hate... about getting old," the old raccoon wheezed as he picked himself up.

He was completely exhausted, heaving desperately for every breath with sweat running down the matted fur of his face. Kneeling down next to me, Rick reached out and removed my helmet, revealing my own angry and outraged face.

"That toxin only works neck-down, so you should be able to flap your yap," Rick said, spitting the words out like they had a nasty taste. "Keep in mind that I'm having a really, really bad day, so for your sorry-ass sake I'd advise you not say anything to make it any worse."

"Screw you, old man!" I growled back, still unable to move.

At this, the tired old raccoon let out a heavy sigh and rolled his eyes, letting his shoulders sag as he groaned out, "you have no idea what you almost did, do you? Or maybe you do know, and you just don't care– "

"Is everyone alright? Is anyone hurt?" a woman asked in a worried voice.

Another older raccoon rushed into my view, a woman this time, who I later learned was Rachelle Cooney. She didn't stop to check on me or Rick though; she went inside the dark room and turned on the lights.

That's when I saw them, and heard them.

"We're okay, but I think our position might not be secure anymore," a girl's voice answered, and she stood up.

A dark-plumed avian girl –maybe thirteen or fourteen years old– stepped out from behind a desk at the back of the room, which was some kind of reception office by its layout. She was joined by about a dozen more teenagers around her age or a little younger, all of varying species. They formed a loose cluster in the middle of the room around the avian girl, treating her as their de-facto spokesperson and leader it seemed. All of them had this wide-eyed, frightened look when I saw them, like they viewed me as some kind of monster. I couldn't really blame them.

Those around me continued talking, but after seeing what I'd nearly done, everything felt like it stopped, and I just froze...

"What were you all thinking?" Rachelle asked the children in the tone of a worried, scolding mother. "The whole place is on lock-down, this is no place to be."

"The location was secure, and defensible," the dark avian girl answered quietly, putting her arms out to comfort one of her younger, more terrified peers.

"Yeah, it's secure and defensible because it's a goddamn target," Rick cursed, kicking me in the side, though I barely felt it at the time. "It's the secondary power generator for the main transmitter array, keeping that jamming signal up, keeping these bastards in the dark."

In this short time, Rick had relieved me of my weapons, grenades, explosive charges, and even removed the power core of my G-diffuser rig. Even if the antitoxin kicked in, I'd be at a severe disadvantage, even more if he was going to bind my hands. But really, at this moment, my shame and disgust and confusion was paralyzing and disarming me all on its own. The horrifying reality of what I'd almost done –what I was committed to do– was starting to sink in. I kept looking at the young ones that I'd nearly blown up and gunned down, and they looked back at their would-be murderer, and I'm not sure which of us were more frightened...

"Come on, language," Rachelle chided.

"This really isn't the time," Rick muttered back, and took a small handgun from inside his worn-out coat "and they've heard much worse–"

"Wait a minute," Rachelle said suddenly, looking over the gathered teens with a worried stare. "No, that's not good. Rick, we got a problem here."

"Of course we got a problem!" the old raccoon snarled back, pressing his handgun to my head. "I've got a gun trained on the problem right now."

"There's more of the junior trainees here than I thought, and I only have enough beacons to get a few away safely," Rachelle explained quickly, giving her brother the bad news. "We need another way out, one we can all use."

"Son of a bitch!" Rick swore as he jumped to his feet.

I started to feel the antitoxin take effect. It wasn't much, but I could move my limbs, but Rick saw me.

"Oh no you don't," he grumbled, fixing the handgun on me again. "None of that now."

"He's moving already? Let me look at him..." Rachelle said as she approached me. She was a little surprised, a little worried, but also curious as she examined me. "Neural interface port... Cybernetic enhancements... I need a second here."

She hastily unpacked a small stash of high-tech equipment from a bag, and jacked a cable into the interface port in my head, while Rick made his position clear.

"There's only one reason I used paralyzing fun juice on you instead of something lethal," the old raccoon threatened. "One reason you're still alive."

"And I suppose you're gonna tell me, right?" I replied, without any emotion whatsoever.

"Tactical information, soldier:" Rick confirmed. "You're gonna tell us your mission, deployment details, commanding officer, everything you knew going into this engagement. You start talking or... hell, you know where this is going, but in case you get any ideas about loyalty and a brave soldier's sacrifice, we can get everything we need anyway once your implants get hacked. The old-fashioned way is just faster and easier, if you're willing to play ball that is."

"That's not possible," I said, shaking my head, "the firewalls in my interface can't be–"

"Done," Rachelle said, just a little proud of herself.

[Authorized Admin Login Detected. Stand By...]

"Name: Alastar Korvyn. Rank: Sergeant First-Class, Cornerian Dragoon Guard. Commanding officer: Captain Edgar Tennant. Mission: black-bag operation for the CSB, parameters classified by agent G. Morrow," Rachelle listed off, and continued working. "It won't be classified for long, not after I chew on this encryption for a bit..."

"Holy bollocks," I muttered, surprised that she could break through so easily.

"Morrow, huh?" Rick said, a little smug, and a little disgusted. "Now that explains a few things."

"You know her?" I asked, little curious despite the situation.

"Better than I'd like to admit, I'm afraid." the old raccoon confirmed with a huff, and returned his attention to me. "Look, Alastar, we don't have a lot of time here, and as you see we're gonna get what we're after one way or another. You've got until the encryption guarding your mission is cracked to make up your mind how you wanna play this, and I don't know when that's gonna be."

"I can't help you," I said, shaking my head.

"Can't, or won't?" Rick asked, "and why not?"

"Lylat Union Congress has been declared an enemy of Corneria and is to be disbanded immediately, by force if necessary," I rattled off. I was just regurgitating the general briefing the soldiers had gotten earlier, not even thinking as I spoke. "Lylat Central Intelligence is classified as a hostile paramilitary organization and collaborator with known terrorist Andross, and cannot be trusted to surrender on acceptable terms. All LCI assets are to be confiscated by CSB, and all personnel to be considered dangerous–"

The old raccoon smacked me upside the head, knocking me into a minor stupor.

"Will you just shut up with that propaganda bullshit, please?" Rick spat, and went on in such bitter, angry tones. "Look around: all you've done is attack some buildings, when Lylat Central Intelligence is so much more than that. Soreno can claim a victory here if he wants, show how tough his administration is on 'foreign interlopers' and put on a cute song-and-dance for everyone who can be bothered to watch. It'll be an empty victory tough, and everyone at the CSB and every intelligence organization across Lylat knows it. After a crazy, stupid stunt like this, I can promise that Corneria will always be haunted by ghosts of their own making. Nice work, Sergeant Korvyn."

"I think I'm starting to see why Morrow wants you dead so badly," I drawled, shooting Rick a dirty look.

"Ah, so that's your mission: assassination," the old raccoon said with a chuckle, "and this is so Morrow's style, to hide a precise strike behind something huge, loud and bombastic. She must be having a goddamn field day at CSB now that she's working for that buffoon Soreno, like a spoiled princess in a candy store, I swear..."

"You want me to talk about my mission details? You want me to help you survive this?" I said. I wasn't sure if I really was cutting a deal at that moment or if I was buying time. I think I was buying time for myself, trying to wrap my head around the situation, trying to figure out which way was up in this chaotic moment. "You go first: why does Agent Gillian Morrow want you dead?"

"What, she didn't tell you?" Rick asked with utter sarcasm. He even burst out laughing before he said, "no of course she didn't tell you. She didn't tell you, or anyone, because the truth would strangle her if it ever got loose, which is why she never tells the truth, ever. And why the hell do you want to know so badly anyway? Is it so you can roll your eyes, laugh, scoff and deny the ugly truth like all you good little toy soldiers are supposed to?"

That last line struck a nerve, and I might've punched him right there if I had my wits about me, but I stuck with words instead, saying, "I want to know because I'm not quite the stupid blind sack of ignorant shit you think I am."

"Really? Tell it to them," Rick countered, motioning toward the huddled group of youngsters. "Tell it to these kids you nearly murdered!"

"Rick! Ease off him!" Rachelle scolded, "He's practically a kid himself!"

I shouldn't have looked. For a second I thought I could put that lapse aside, put away the guilt of what I'd almost done. I couldn't do it though, so I panicked, and I babbled.

"I didn't know there were young ones here!" I burst out, "I'd never... my training... I just fell into a routine... I fell back on what I knew to do... I wasn't thinking... I was just going and doing and..." for a really awkward moment I thought I was gonna be sick, right there in front of all of them. I managed to pull myself together though, at least enough get a coherent thought out. "I just can't do that anymore, not when blind obedience to my orders puts innocent people at such terrible risk."

There was a moment then when we all just looked at each other. I was an utter mess, obviously. Meanwhile, I noticed the kids weren't looking at me with fear anymore, but with what I think was pity, maybe even concern for my well-being. Rachelle ended up caught somewhere between her decryption work and giving Rick a disapproving scowl.

"You know," Rick began as he rubbed his forehead with a free hand, "of all the times you could've had a crisis of loyalty, I think you've found the absolute worst."

"It's not just right now though," I said. "It's been a long time coming, because everything's been falling to pieces ever since Cerinia."

"You shut your mouth!" Rick snapped, jabbing an accusing finger at my face. "You know nothing about Cerinia!"

"I don't know what happened out there –maybe I don't even want to know– but I do know what Cerinia did back here, at home. Nothing's the same anymore." I confessed. It felt like a confession, since as a loyal soldier of Corneria, I'm not supposed to voice any hint of disloyalty or dissatisfaction with my superiors, especially not to those outside the military. "Thanks to Cerinia, there's a fear-mongering, jingoistic asshat named Nolan Soreno in the Cornerian President's chair, riding on a wave of panic and outrage. He found some enemies to blame Cerinia for and used it justify this crazy rapid military escalation, and now he's pissing on anyone with the means and the guts to hold him and his dirty posse accountable."

For the first time in our exchange, I saw Rick looked utterly surprised. He took a step back, gave Rachelle a look, and tried to say something to me. For once though, words seemed to fail that mouthy old bastard.

"Oh come on, you're a smart old spook," I finally said, breaking that awkward silence. "I'm pretty sure you know exactly how ugly the situation is, and you know how many veteran Cornerian soldiers have quit or gone rogue since Soreno's administration took over."

"If that's how you really feel, then why haven't you left?" Rick asked.

"Because despite all of the stupidity upstairs, despite all of the piss-poor management, the complacent brass, and the greed, and the corruption, I know my home and the people there are worth defending, worth fighting to protect," I answered with full conviction. My next words however were far more uncertain, wavering as I said, "I want to do the best damn job of it that I can, but... nothing's the same anymore."

The old raccoon knelt down to my level. He didn't regard me with disgust now, but with genuine concern as he said, "take it from me kid: there's plenty out there that's worth defending, but not like this, not with chest thumping, saber rattling, and guns blazing."

"I'm done." Rachelle then announced. "The encryption's cracked, and I've got your mission: it's a whole grocery list of kill targets. Rick and I are on it, naturally, but there's more –a lot more– and you're not gonna like it."

"What do you mean?" Rick asked quickly. "Who else?"

"To name a few: Connor Griffon, James McCloud, Dr. Aster, even Professor Randorn," Rachelle listed. "There's more but–"

"I think I understand," Rick said as a sudden pang of dread and worry came over him. "Everyone on Morrow's kill list was involved with Icerain."

"Icerain?" I asked.

"Dammit!" the old raccoon cursed. "The more you know about it, the more you put yourself at risk."

"The way I see it, I'm already at risk," I countered. "My corrupt colleague in the CSB wants me and my fellow Dragoons to kill you, and I want to know exactly why. You tell me her game plan, and why it's a bad idea for me to play along with it, and I'll help get you out of here whatever way I can."

Rick and Rachelle exchanged some looks and nodding heads, silently communicating and reaching an agreement.

"Fine," Rick relented with a long, worried sigh. "Lylat Central Intelligence Special Mission seventy six, codename: 'Icerain'. It's the truth that Gillian Morrow is trying to bury by killing everyone involved who knows what it is. In the shortest, most succinct but still truthful answer I can give: Icerain is the truth about what happened on Cerinia."

"So, what happened on Cerinia?" I asked, naturally curious after he opened that can of worms.

"I'm not gonna say any more than that," Rick insisted. "I can't tell the full story now, not with the walls closing in around us, and it'll take a pretty big leap of trust for you to believe it."

"What If I'm ready to take that leap?"

"Then take this leap first: get these now former junior trainees to safety," Rick instructed, motioning to the kids again. "They have no mission nor any stake in this agency, or whatever's left of it now. They're good kids who deserve a future, and you're gonna make sure they get it."

"I can manage that," I agreed. "But how are you getting out?"

"Don't you worry about that," Rachelle assured me. "We have a way to escape, but only for a few. Rick and I will use it for ourselves."

"But I can't just abandon my mission," I explained, starting to worry about how this was all going to play out. "If I did, or if I failed, another Dragoon would soon arrive and finish it in my place. The Army might just advance once the barrier shield is down anyway, jamming field or no."

"The power generator is just a little ways through here," Rick said, pointing at a door on the far side of the reception room. "Go break it like you're supposed to, it won't be a problem."

"And then there's the issue that I've seen you," I said, remembering how my integrated systems functioned. "The program in my neural interface knows I've seen you, and it needs you dead."

"Got it covered," Rachelle said, while fiddled with her gear still jacked into my head.

[Target Eliminated] [Target Eliminated]

She altered the status of my targets, marking both of them as dead in my interface.

"As far as your program is concerned, and everyone else for that matter, we are dead now," the lady raccoon said as she disconnected from me and packed her gear away.

"Just one last thing," Rick said as he took out a small card from within his coat, and handed it to me. "Take this ID badge: it has a short range friend/foe indicator built in. It won't fool the security guards, but the automated defenses and drones will ignore you as long as you have that badge on you. You can say you took it off my dead body, that Rachelle and I were using the trainees as hostages in a last-ditch effort, and that you rescued them."

"You'll get to accomplish your mission, and be a hero in the process."

"I'm... not sure what to say," I uttered, still a little baffled and taken aback by the bizarre situation I've landed in.

"We'll be in touch once this mess blows over," Rick said with a touch of smugness. "You can say something then."

Rachelle unpacked a couple small metal spheres, handing one to Rick as the two of them stepped away from me. The spheres had some exotic, unfamiliar markings etched into them. I didn't have time to really get a good look though, because then I saw something that should've been impossible.

Rick and Rachelle Cooney vanished before my eyes, disappearing without any trace.

For a few moments, I was just speechless and still, staring slack-jawed at the spot where they once were. I didn't see any telltale shimmer or blur to suggest a stealth-field, nor did I hear even the faintest of movement. They really were gone: teleported away. Those odd spheres must have been the 'beacons' Rachelle mentioned earlier–

"What happens now?" the dark avian girl asked.

The question jarred me from my awe, and I turned to the expectant, worried group of junior trainees that had been left in my care. I didn't have time to speculate or marvel at what had just transpired. I had a new mission now: one I could actually be proud to accomplish.

"Follow me," I answered, scooping up my gear. "Let's get out of here."

\


/

"That's... quite a story," Sasha said, still holding Alastar's blade to his bare chest. "It's a lot to believe."

"I'm a lot of terrible things, Sasha, but a liar isn't one of them," the merc insisted, a forlorn look coming across his scruffy features.

"At the very least, I suppose you're not working for Morrow, not after all the trouble that operation must have caused for her," the husky said, and took a second before continuing. "So, what happens now?"

"That's up to you, isn't it?" Alastar said, giving her an earnest, committed look. "Whatever you think you might accomplish aboard the Enigma: I want in. You'll need someone at your back, and I swear to you, I can help you with it. I'm no stranger to screwing with Morrow's carefully laid plans, and I'm glad to kick sand in her face. Your father deserves so much better than what he's gotten into. Let me help you make that right."

Even after he spilled that story, Sasha still had her doubts about Alastar. Through her grip loosened, she still held the point of his own blade to him, and pressed the issue.

"I still have a lot of questions though–"

"You'll just have to ask later," he interrupted quietly, almost at an urgent whisper.

Before Sasha had a chance to protest, the scruffy canid backed off, got on his knees, and clasped his hands behind his head before shouting, "I surrender!"

A bright blue crackling bolt blasted past Sasha, and hit Alastar squarely in the chest. His body twitched for a few moments, and he flopped face-first to the sand beneath him. It was a powerful EM blast, which rendered him unconscious almost instantly.

The husky turned around quickly, and saw some people she wasn't expecting to see so soon.

It was her squad; Fletcher, Xavier and Vance; all quickly advancing across the Titania sand toward her with weapons in-hand. Some distance behind them was another figure, holding a high-precision rifle trained on her and Alastar's position. Though she couldn't see him clearly, she knew who it simply had to be. It was her Special Forces trainer, and excellent marksman: Major Salazar Hunt.

Then above Hunt's distant figure, the sky shimmered with static, and a hovering ship revealed itself as its cloaking field disengaged. Based on what little description she had to go off of, and the circumstances of the moment, this had to be none other than the Enigma.

"What took you so long?" Sasha asked once her squad arrived at her side. "I practically had to break myself out."

"Sorry about that, Chief, " Sergeant Fletcher replied. "That slippery Cooney bastard led us all on one hell of a chase. How'd you give him the slip anyway?"

In the meantime, Vance and Xavier grabbed up Alastar's limp form and hauled him off. No doubt Griffon wanted to question him.

"It wasn't easy," Sasha answered. "I'll tell you about it later at the debrief."

\


/

Author Notes:

Well, this chapter was a long time coming, too long if you ask me.

Similar to how I opened this story with major words from Andross, I felt I should have something from the other side as well, and I felt like this was the most fitting place to put it. Also switched to a first-person narration style for when Alastar tells his story, and I hope that worked alright. I'm sure you'll let me know in the review you plan to write.

As for 'Icerain' and what it means, I promise that's not just a few throwaway lines to grab your attention. I'm actually referencing something I have planned, but not yet fully written. Those who've read through Legacy II might have a few hints at what it might mean, but further details are a story for another time.

There's still a few chapters left to go with this particular story, and I plan to end this one strong. Thanks for sticking it out this far.

As always, your feedback is most welcome.