After it decloaked, the sleek cigar-shape of the Enigma descended toward the scorched Titania desert below. It wasn't an especially large vessel from what Sasha could tell, about the size of a patrol cruiser, but it's shape and construction were unfamiliar. The ship's efficient outward design suggested a sense of robust elegance, like a high-performance luxury car, giving it a lean yet formidable appearance.

"She's a slick looking thing, I'll give it that." Sergeant Fletcher commented as he walked alongside Sasha, "and she's fast too, wasted no time getting us here."

Xavier and Vance followed close behind, carrying Alastar's limp form between them.

"There's gotta be one hell of a story behind all this," the large reptile said, "like, what's Korvyn doing without a shirt? Why do you have his sword?"

Sasha looked down at the blade, feeling its weight in her grip. It was hefty, but well balanced.

"We'll want to bring that vehicle aboard too for analysis," Vance mused as he glanced back at the 4x4, "might learn a few things from it, in case Korvyn doesn't talk."

The husky nodded in quiet agreement and continued ahead. A figure ahead of her with a high-powered rifle faded into focus, as he was wearing a hooded cloak with adaptive camouflage that had just deactivated. As Sasha approached him, he let down his hood and his identity was confirmed: Major Salazar Hunt, Sasha's training officer.

"Captain, status report," the smaller rodent curtly prompted.

His calm yet sharp voice reminded Sasha of her time training under Major Hunt, of how much she endured under his tutelage.

"I'm a little shaken, but in one piece sir," Sasha replied. "It's good to see you stop by, but I'm surprised they sent you in. I thought you didn't do field operations anymore."

"I thought so too," the rodent agreed with a short nod. "General Silver wanted someone familiar with you to handle your extraction, and take temporary command of your squad. He's aboard the Enigma, ready to conduct a full debrief with you."

"General Silver is here?" the husky asked, surprised that her commanding officer would come out this far.

"There's still much work to do, and you need to be ready for it," Major Hunt stated, and moved toward the Enigma as finished its descent. "Let's try not keep the General waiting any longer than we need to."

Sasha moved with the rodent, saying, "we should prepare Alastar Korvyn for immediate interrogation. He has vital tactical data on Cooney and Olsen, plus other assets and support they have in the area."

"Agent Griffon is prepared to conduct Korvyn's interrogation, and I trust he's capable," Major Hunt assured as they approached the side of the vessel "If he requires our support, we'll be alerted."

Once the Enigma touched down ahead of them, a door on the side of the ship's hull clanked and slid open with a groan of motors, and a rudimentary boarding ramp extended down to the ground. A few moments later, Sasha, Major Hunt, and all of her squad with Alastar in tow climbed that ramp, and boarded the Enigma. The act itself wasn't an especially momentous affair, just straightforward and routine. The outer hull door led to an airlock pressurization chamber, which didn't do much in a fairly standard atmosphere. Still, the party was locked in the chamber for a few moments before the inner airlock door opened, and what Sasha saw next hit her square in the chest.

Immediately on the other side of the door was her mother and father, a few other figures that escaped Sasha's attention, and the very last person she expected to see here: Maya Kaido. For a strange, surreal moment, she just stood and stared, and Maya stared back. Everything else slipped away while Sasha's mind caught up with the reality of the reunion.

For her part, Maya stepped forward, with a look of relief, surprise, joy, concern, and so many more emotions competing for her facial expression. After closing the distance, she embraced Sasha, wrapping her arms around the still stunned canid officer and rested her head on the husky's shoulder. The feeling of Maya against her brought Sasha out of her stupor, confirming for sure that it wasn't a dream or hallucination: Maya was here with her, in the flesh. As the husky came to her senses, she felt a bit embarrassed that she wasn't more presentable, dirtied up with sand and grime and sweat, but none of it mattered.

Slowly, Sasha returned the embrace, and asked in an urgent whisper, "what are you doing here?!"

"Agent Griffon said it would be safer here, aboard his ship," Maya replied, stepping back out of the embrace.

"You're alright!" Tess exclaimed, beaming with relief. "The way Agent Griffon talked, I thought..." she trailed off, not daring to finish the thought.

"You thought what, Mom?"

"You're safe now, that's what matters most," the older woman shook her head, and hugged her daughter tightly.

Sasha couldn't help but feel tense, and awkward, and more than a little sheepish. Under any other circumstances, the reunion would have been a happy one. Though she was relieved to see them all, the soldier in the back of her mind refused to let her forget that nobody here was as safe as they thought. Sasha was also further confused by Connor's decision to bring in Maya and her mother, since it sounded like his idea. Who was Connor supposedly protecting them from? In fact, everyone here was is terrible danger, though many didn't know it yet...

Something was definitely off, yet despite that, she needed to stay focused, keep her head in the game.

"Welcome back, Captain," Agent Griffon greeted. His avian features didn't betray much expression when he spoke. He seemed not quite impatient, but eager to move ahead. For that, Sasha couldn't really blame him–

"Hey kiddo." Her father's voice caught her off guard, leaving her a little flustered. He was right next to Agent Griffon when he gave his daughter a warm smile, and stepped in closer. "How're you holding up?"

"I uh... escaped my captors, and I have a prisoner of my own to boot," Sasha turned aside, presenting her squadmates and the limp form of Alastar as they carried him aboard. "All things considered, I'd say that's pretty good."

"That's my girl," Kell said with a proud chuckle, and placed a firm yet loving hand on her shoulder. "They just can't keep you locked up for long, can they?"

"I'll take that prisoner, Captain. I've got a few choice questions for him," Griffon said in a dry, professional tone, and directed some of the ship's crew to take Alastar. "General Silver is waiting for you in the bridge conference room for debriefing. We'll catch up in a moment once we get our bearings on the situation. For now though, I need answers."

"Of course," Sasha said with a short nod, and watched Agent Griffon take Alastar away.

The avian spy was right about one thing: time really was short, and if Alastar's part of the plan went off the way it was expected, the time would be far shorter indeed.

The moment Connor and his posse left the airlock atrium into an adjoining corridor, Sasha gave her father a sudden tight hug, catching the older husky off-guard. "Hey! I'm glad to see you too kiddo, but you'd better get to that debriefing–"

Though she took some measure of comfort in clutching her father, it wasn't meant to be a show of affection. If anything, Sasha was even more anxious was she spoke in an urgent, hushed whisper, "I need to talk with you, and it needs to be in private."

"Why?" Kell Zura asked, matching his daughter's tense tone. "What's wrong?"

"A lot, so much," Sasha admitted, "but I can't talk about it here, and there isn't much time."

She didn't see his face, but Sasha could tell her father was thinking. He stood still, breathed steadily, but she felt his heartbeat picking up. Looking up over his shoulder, a few of the remaining crewmen, as well as Sasha's squadmates, looked on the scene with curiosity.

"Trust me, Dad: this can't wait," she warned as she stepped out of the embrace, and saw her father's distraught, confused expression. It seemed like he was trying to find words, but was at a loss.

The moment might have drawn on longer, but there were pressing matters afoot. In the awkward silence between them, Sasha overheard other words nearby, from Major Hunt.

"Yes General, we've just come aboard..." the rodent was on comms, with General Silver if Sasha guessed right. "Agent Griffon is taking Korvyn to the brig for interrogation now..."

Major Hunt turned his attention to the Zuras, stepping into the scene as he said, "Captain Zura, we need to meet General Silver for debriefing–"

"Can we... get a few minutes?" Kell asked. The interruption from Hunt had jostled him a bit, stirring the older husky into a reply. "I mean, she just got back, and..."

The rodent squinted slightly as he observed the moment, which was a look not unlike how he used to observe Sasha's training. Silently, Major Hunt passed judgment, holding his verdict in reserve for when the opportunity presented itself, like waiting for the optimal shot.

"Did you catch all that, sir?..." the rodent then asked into his comm. After he received a reply, he nodded and turned to Kell and Sasha as he said, "thirty minutes. Captain Zura, report to the bridge conference room no later than that."

"Yes sir," Sasha replied with a nod. "I won't be long."

"Theta Four, fall in," Major Hunt ordered the rest of the squad as he went into the adjoining corridor, and the others followed suit.

"Take it easy, chief," Sergeant Fletcher said on his way out. "We're really in no rush right now, even if Agent Griffon is."

If only he knew just how utterly wrong he was.

The moment Kell, Sasha, Tess and Maya were alone in the airlock atrium, Sasha spoke with urgency, "Dad, other than me or you, is there anyone aboard right now you'd trust to protect Mom?"

"My First Lieutenant, Keith Graham, with the crack platoon I brought aboard. He's been with me since my time in the Cornerian Army, I'd trust him with my life." After he answered, Kell furrowed his brow and gave a deep sigh as he said, "so it's that bad, is it?"

"Honestly Dad, it's probably worse," Sasha answered.

Kell was already getting on his comm when Sasha spoke. It wasn't even a moment before Kell was connected. "Graham, this is Zura. Get to my cabin right away with a few of your finest..." he ordered, and waited a few moments for a response on the other end. "Nothing for sure yet. It's more of a precaution for now."

"Kell, Sasha, what's wrong?" Tess Zura asked, with Maya at her side in a similar state of unease.

"I think about to find out, Tess," Kell replied. "For now, we'll head to our cabins. Once there, Graham will take care of you both, since it seems Sasha has something urgent to discuss."

\


A Riddle Wrapped in a Mystery Inside the Enigma


/

Brig.

It wasn't long before Agent Griffon had Alastar Korvyn in a drab empty room in the Enigma's brig, handcuffed to the metal table he sat behind. It was a fairly common style of setup for Intelligence related interrogation: a space as boring and dull as could be managed. Sometimes location and circumstance mattered, sometimes an agent would just have to make do with whatever was available. For Connor's purposes this time, expediency was most important, and 'the box' with all it's simplicity served that need just fine.

When Agent Griffon entered the empty cube of a room, the scruffy captive was still unconscious, slumped forward with his head on the table, but not for long. To this end, Connor moved behind Alastar, and took an autoinjector out of his pocket. It was filled with a nanite slurry very similar to the one Connor was 'encouraged' to use on himself; a grim reminder that sent a shiver down his back, raising his plumage ever so slightly. At least the nanite solution in his hand was fully under his control; or rather, under the control of a specialized technician under his command in the next room...

Enough stalling. He took a quick, stabilizing breath, and injected Alastar's limp form in the neck. Moments later, the scruffy canid stirred and twitched, then bolted straight upright.

"Agh!" Alastar said with a sudden gasp.

The nanites had completed their first programmed task: rouse Korvyn. For his part, the captive mercenary seemed startled, but not really surprised. He glanced around the room quickly, and his gaze steadied once he found Connor standing next to him.

"So," Agent griffon said as he slowly walked to the other side of the table, "this is the part where I'd ask you questions, and then you'd lie, spin stories, shoot your mouth off. Basically, you'd do just about anything except tell me the information I need. That's your plan, isn't it?"

"Now you're just taking all the fun out of it," Alastar said with a scoff as he shrugged.

"Don't worry, there 's still plenty of fun to be had," Connor assured, then gave a small hand signal to the hidden camera over his shoulder.

For a few seconds, the scruffy canid just stared, head tilted with an odd curious look. It was soon usurped by wide-eyed shock with a quivering lip. His interface was malfunctioning, and he just now realized it.

"What's this?" Alastar asked, trying to raise a cuffed hand to his head. "What the bloody bollocks did you do?!"

"A neural interface is a handy thing," the avian spy commented, and set the empty auto injector down in front of Alastar. "It has a few drawbacks and security risks though, which the Cooneys easily exploited when you attacked LCI, which I can exploit even faster with Red Dust nanites in your system."

"You goddamn bastard!" the merc spat.

"Your interface, and all the data stored in it, and every single system networked to it, now belong to me." Connor leaned in over the table, gazing down at the helpless prisoner, saying, "I've got your hardware and your software, so all that's left now is your wetware."

Alastar scowled back up, growling, "if you think this'll scare me into talking–"

"Shut down his cranial heat exchanger and begin the download," Griffon ordered, glancing at the hidden camera behind him.

"Agh!" Alastar ed, as he hunched forward, clutching his head as it, quite literally, got cooked from the inside. "You son of a sodomized sock-sucker!"

"You see? Plenty of fun," Connor said in a mock-cheerful tone as he exited the box.

\


/

Interior Corridors.

Kell Zura led the way through the Enigma's corridors, with Tess, Maya and Sasha following close behind. Sasha took mental note of the vessel's layout, of any vital systems she recognized, and especially of a detailed deck plan posted on one of he walls in the central corridor. With what was coming up next, getting lost wouldn't be merely embarrassing, it'd be deadly–

"You're scared, Sasha," Maya said as she approached from behind, gently placing a hand on her shoulder as the young feline came alongside. "What's going on?"

Sasha actually flinched at the contact, and she was ashamed that she did. As Maya pulled back from the husky's reaction, Sasha grasped her hand, and walked with her side-by-side, hand-in-hand.

"There's so much I want to say, so much I want to do and feel. There's things I have to do, dangerous things, and they're gonna happen right here, very soon." Sasha's words came out as a desperate yet fearless whisper, halting her tears behind laser-focused eyes. "Promise me you'll be safe, and I promise I'll explain everything once the dust settles."

"I'll tell you what: do your explaining over a nice dinner and a bottle of good wine, and you've got a deal," Maya offered as she rested her head head on the husky's shoulder.

"It's a date then," Sasha replied, the words escaping her almost like reflex.

"A date, yeah..." Maya uttered, trying not to sound awkward. "There's things I need to explain too."

"And I swear you'll get the chance to do just that," Sasha declared, gripping the dark feline's hand just a bit tighter before letting her go.

For all the craziness and confusion of this operation, all of the double and triple crossing that was on the table, keeping her family and Maya safe became the goal that would supersede all others. Everything else must come second.

In that time, the group arrived in an area of crew or officers' quarters that was a few sections forward from the airlock by Sasha's reckoning. Outside one of the cabin doors were a few figures: all canid, all wearing similar fatigues as Kell, and all armed.

One of the armed figures stepped forward to meet the group, asking, "what's going on here?"

He was a well-built, grayish colored but otherwise unremarkable canid. However, he dyed some of his head fur in a distinct harsh red pattern, making him stand out a bit compared to the others.

"I told you already, Graham: I'm not sure yet, but my guess is something ugly," Kell answered, cautiously glancing up and down the narrow hallway. "For now, have a guard detail cover my wife and Miss Kaido in this cabin."

The older husky quickly opened the cabin door with his keycard, and directed Tess and Maya inside.

Once the two ladies entered and the door closed behind them, Graham asked in a stern, concerned whisper, "seriously sir, do you know something we don't? Is this whole show about to blow up in our faces?"

Kell gave a quick, sharp look to Sasha, which she matched perfectly, right down to the furrowed brows and stern stare.

"I'll fill you in on the details as I get them, Graham," Kell replied, not breaking eye contact with his daughter. "Stay put, stay alert: that's an order, son."

"Yes, sir," the gray canid replied in a tense tone that hinted at skepticism, then he positioned himself just outside the cabin door where Tess and Maya were.

In short order, Kell used his keycard again to open the cabin right next door, and motioned for Sasha to enter. Once they were inside and alone, insulated from the eyes and ears of weary bystanders, Kell took on a softer, worried demeanor. For now at least, Kell Zura confronted Sasha as a father, rather than an officer.

"What in all the stars is going on, Sasha?" the older canine asked in quite desperation. "You've got my troops spooked, your mother is worried sick, you barely talked to your friend Maya, and you didn't mention anything to Agent Griffon."

"I'm so, so sorry about this, dad." Sasha answered, looking down.

"Why? What for?" Kell asked, grasping his daughter by her shoulders. "Tell me what's wrong."

She looked up, meeting her father's worried eyes, then recited quickly and methodically, "recall sequence: 'Jacket, Technical, Motor, Swim, Town'. Execute."

She wasn't sure what to expect once she spoke the recall sequence, nor was she sure what was happening in her father's head. At a momentary loss to say anything else, Sasha simply said again, "I'm sorry–"

Almost as soon as he heard the words, Kell lunged forward, wrapping his daughter in a tight embrace.

"Sasha..." he uttered in a painful, vulnerable voice she'd never once heard from her father before. "You have absolutely nothing to apologize for.

"In all this time, through all this goddamn harebrained craziness away from Corneria, you've been amazing. I have nothing but unabashed pride for all you've done, for how far you've come in relentless spite of the challenges you endured. Me though: I've just been a clumsy bumbling old fool. I screwed up and got sloppy. I agreed to be part of Gil's crazy deep-cover mission. I'm the one who dragged us out and got us into this mess in the first place. If anyone deserves to be sorry, it's me: I'm sorry you got caught up in all this."

"I love you dad, I'm happy you feel that way, but we don't have much time for a sappy father-daughter moment," Sasha said in an uncomfortably blunt tone.

"Not even a short one, huh?" Kell said as he released the embrace.

As awkward as it was to contain all the emotions buzzing around, as much as she appreciated how much her father cared, time really was running out. All had to be put on hold for the sake of the mission, for everyone's survival and safety. Besides, she could be sappy later.

"I talked with Morrow just a few hours ago: she's more or less in cahoots with Cooney and Olsen, and is providing Cornerian support for their extraction," Sasha recited in her concise officer's tone. "She came all the way out here to tell me your story, and to tell me your memory recall code."

"Did she at least tell you my mission details too?" Kell asked. "My memory recall is supposed to come with mission parameters."

"Morrow wants you to secure the Enigma," Sasha answered bluntly.

Kell froze in place for a moment, his expression locked in a frustrated grimace that almost regretted asking about the mission. "Well, I'm flattered she thinks so highly of my capabilities, but taking over a ship is an awful great stretch, even for me."

"You won't be taking this ship alone," Sasha clarified. "The prisoner I brought aboard is part of the takeover too."

"Korvyn?!" The older husky demanded, getting frustrated at the parade of bad news coming down his street. "What the hell is he gonna do locked up in the brig? Shit, never mind that, how am I supposed to convince the troops under my command to go along with this? Lots of them are all-in for Venom, and they're liable to mutiny on my ass if I say 'take over the ship'–"

"Are you their commander or not!?" Sasha interrupted, standing up to her father. "They won't have to actually 'take control' of the ship, they'll just need to be ready to keep others aboard safe, keep everyone else from doing something stupid or dangerous once it all goes down. With the kind of party tricks Alastar has set up, I doubt your soldiers will need a whole lot of convincing to do exactly that."

Upon hearing this, the penny dropped in Kell's mind, and his tone changed instantly as he said, "oh you crafty spook bastards. Korvyn's a Trojan prisoner, isn't he? Just what kind of 'party tricks' is that boy packing anyway?"

"They'll be effective, but he doesn't exactly have total control over it," Sasha explained. "Alastar's party tricks will go off, with or without your cooperation. Your men will be confused, on edge, and they'll need orders. Those orders have to come from you."

For a moment, Kell Zura just stood opposite his daughter, watching her, processing the information laid out before him. Then he smiled, shook his head and let out a small satisfied chuckle.

"My gosh Sasha, look at you: delegating and commanding like a true officer," he said, holding up his outstretched arms. "When things settle down a bit, you and I are gonna have a talk, young lady."

"Lecture me later, when we're in slightly less peril," Sasha replied with a grudging, slightly embarrassed sigh. "Things are about to get seriously weird."

"Right. Not much time, and you have intel on Korvyn's extra fun 'party tricks'," Kell agreed with a small huff. "Oaky then, lay the bad news on me."

\


/

Brig

Outside the interrogation room was a small observation room with one of the Enigma's senior technical officers watching the scene. He was a thin tan-furred man of one of the antelope species with a pair of gently curved horns. By all accounts, the room itself didn't amount to much: a few display monitors, a computer station, ship's internal comm interface, a door in and out. It was a drab and dreary little place, where the grisly monotony of intelligence work was done. Connor had been in countless similar rooms before in his career, sometimes even in Alastar's current unenviable position.

One of the monitors in the room showed the scruffy canid prisoner confined in the box, writhing in pain, groaning in agony that Agent Griffon could only imagine. It reminded the avian spy that he had a dose of Red Dust inside himself, that similar stakes – higher, in fact – were hanging over his own head if things didn't go his way. For now, there was nothing to it but to wait for the work of the computers, which never felt quite fast enough when in counted...

"How's the download going?" Connor asked in a dull, detached voice.

"So far so good," the antelope technician announced in a reassuring tone, "the encryption's responding to the old Cornerian Military codec protocols, so it's just a matter of time."

Connor heard the words, saw one monitor displaying download and decryption progress, and another monitor showing hapless Alastar Korvyn restrained in the box. The weary spy felt a nagging pang of doubt about it all, slowly creeping out from the back of his mind. It might be called a 'gut feeling' by some, but for those like Agent Griffon, it was a hard-earned instinct: a natural reaction to things going suspiciously smoothly. It makes one habitually 'pack an umbrella' since all too often that silver lining came with a dark cloud, and those dark clouds always came with rain...

Something was not right.

"I'll head back inside," Connor said dryly, "see what else I can get out of him–"

The lights in the room flickered for a couple seconds. It was a telltale sign of a power fluctuation, which might happen when a major ship system activates. That by itself wasn't usually cause for concern, but then Connor felt the deck shift beneath his feet: the Enigma was changing course.

His heart racing, Connor went straight for the shipboard comm interface on a nearby wall and tried to call the bridge, but there was no answer.

"I can't contact the bridge," Agent Griffon announced in a grimly understated tone. "What's going on?"

"We still have main power, so its not an outage," the antelope tech officer said, "and we would've been alerted to a failure of central comms."

"This is getting us nowhere," Connor said sternly, shaking his head before addressing the tech officer again. "Go to engineering and find out what's happened. Report back here with updates."

"Sure thing," the nervous tech replied as walked out of the brig. "Stay safe."

Once the runner left, the room was eerily quiet. Even Alastar's moaning and groaning over the monitor had ceased. When Connor went to one of the displays that showed the scruffy canid in the box, he found Alastar gazing right back through the camera, with an infuriatingly satisfied little smile.

Then he spoke, his voice filling the room through the monitors, "I can save us all a lot of time and say exactly what's happened, if you can be arsed to pay attention."

With a fire welling up inside him, Connor stormed back into the box. He found Alastar sitting comfortably with hands clasped together, despite still being shacked to the table between them.

"So my ship goes haywire, and now you want to talk?" the irate spy growled.

"From what I've been told, it was never really 'your' ship in the first place, was it?" Alastar posited, his false friendly tone getting under Connor's feathers. "There was something about you being the only high level LCI operative aboard when the agency collapsed or some such."

"I don't know what sad story Rick's been spoon-feeding you," the avian spy replied harshly, standing tall over Alastar, yet feeling sickeningly small. "The Enigma and her crew are my responsibility, and the absolute last person in all existence who ought to be challenging my authority is the prisoner locked in her brig."

"Actually," the canid replied, sounding like he was holding back a laugh, "for all practical purposes, it's my ship: I'm in control now!"

Without any other warning, the deck suddenly lurched under Connor's feet, nearly toppling him off-balance.

"Pitch up, pitch down, roll left, roll right," Alastar said slowly, and from what Connor could feel, the Enigma responded exactly as he said so, pitching and rolling on Korvyn's command.

"You son of a bitch," the avian spy said bitterly as he regained his footing, "you wanted us to capture you, so we'd interface with your implants, and download a virus into the ship."

"'A neural interface is a handy thing,' some smartass once told me," Alastar said, mocking Connor's own patronizing tone from before, "and like that smartass said, it has some danger involved, some security risks. Like most dangerous things I own though, I prefer to point the danger away from me, toward enemies especially."

In a moment of pure anger, Connor pulled out his blaster hangun and trained it squarely on Alastar, saying, "I'm ending this, now!"

"I wouldn't be so hasty to do that if I were you," the canid replied, raising one of his scraggly eyebrows.

"Why not?" the avian spy asked, sighting the kill-shot down the sights of his blaster. "What happens if I choose the hasty option?"

"Wouldn't want to spoil the surprise, or give you hints to try getting around it," Alastar replied, waggling a finger of one of his shacked hands. "Long story short: if I go down, everyone aboard goes down with me. You're better off sitting tight and waiting for us to arrive. We'll be there soon, a dozen minutes at most."

"And where exactly are you taking us, anyway?" Connor demanded, keeping his weapon aimed between Alastar's eyes.

"Exactly where you want to go, actually," he replied.

Though he loathed to admit it, and loathed more to say so, Connor was beaten again. He was outplayed by Rick, left trailing two steps behind the old bastard again. Only this time, there was no going back to Andross with his head low and nothing to show for it. The 'good doctor' only ever gave second chances, not third ones. If it was just his own life on the line, Connor would have gladly pulled the trigger, killing them both right there, but the crew of the Enigma deserved better than that. It wouldn't change anything for Rick and his plans, and it wasn't right to gamble all the lives aboard this ship out of spite alone.

For the moment, there was no option, no path forward on his own terms.

"Oh!" Alastar exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his seat with surprise. "Uh... Actually, I've got someone on the horn you need to speak with... Seems urgent."

"Fine, whatever, what the hell," the avian spy grumbled, lowering his blaster. "It's not like this whole goddamn situation could get any weirder."

"Gimme just a second..." Alastar said as he closed his eyes, and breathed a deep breath in and out.

After a brief moment of quiet, the canid's eyes snapped open, as if he just woken suddenly from sleep. There was something off about him though, and it was all but confirmed when he next spoke.

"Connor, Connor, Connor," Alastar said in a scolding tone that was completely unlike his own, but was all to familiar to the weary agent. "If you really wanted me dead, you should've had the balls to do it yourself when you had the chance,not try to flip my hired help."

"Is..." Connor questioned, still unsure if he truly believed what he heard, "is that you, Rick?"

"Not quite in the flesh," the canid said with a slow nod, "but this'll have to do for now."

\


/

Bridge Conference room.

General Halfdan Silver sat impatiently at one end of the conference table, massive arms crossed over his broad chest, straining parts of his uniform. Seated around him were the members of Theta-Four: Sergeant Fletcher, Corporal Xavier, Specialist Vance, and Major Hunt. They were excellent soldiers, all of them. Each came straight to the bridge conference room still fully kitted for combat, arms and all, and still dusted with that insufferable Titanian red sand. There was one soldier missing however, and it was holding up the most crucial debriefing the gruff General would likely give in his whole career...

"It's precisely as I said: family matters and military matters always cause trouble when they cross," the gorrilla grumbled, placing extra emphasis on his dissatisfaction to make the troops uncomfortable. "Captain Zura's father wastes precious time on useless sentimentality while the enemy is right at our very fingertips. We need to bring the fight forward, neutralize the threat, or at least do a bit of recon-in-force of our own."

General Silver finished with a small angry huff, and discreetly glanced around the room while appearing to stare into the table. The three enlisted men reacted as expected, each trying desperately in their own way to hide overwhelming anxiety in the presence of their unhappy General. On the other hand, Major Hunt continued to display his characteristic lack-of-display, looking back at with his deceptively vacant beady eyes.

"Are you a father, General?" the slightly built rodent asked in an even tone.

"I'd like to think of myself as a father to those under my command, Major," General Silver answered with polite formality.

"That wasn't my question, sir," Hunt retorted, still keeping that steady, piercing gaze on the far larger Gorilla.

The three enlisted men tensed up, freezing in their seats, looking straight across. Each knew if it were one of them saying what Salazar Hunt had, the General would ream and berate them for taking such a tone. Truly, if it were anyone else – officer or no – General Silver very well would have scolded them most harshly, possibly even reprimand them formally to remind them of their place in the chain of command.

Major Hunt was a different beast altogether though. He would take the adversity in stride, completely unfazed by the perils he faced, whether from the mission, from his commanding officer, or from the unruly trainees in his charge. It was that unshakable mental stability that made the Rodent first an outstanding sniper, then a Special Forces soldier, and ultimately the training officer he was now.

It also put General Silver in a slightly awkward position. The best thing for now would be to simply answer the question, and let the Major make his point.

"I haven't sired any children of my own, no," the gorilla answered in a muted tone.

"I would advise patience, sir," the rodent began, speaking with a dull monotone the entire time. It was good that Hunt's training didn't include lecturing, or he just might put his trainees to sleep. "Once tactical information is extracted from Korvyn, we'll be able to plan our next move well informed. Debriefing Captain Zura is mostly a formality, possibly a premature one if we'll need to immediately brief her on our next move anyway. A few minutes of 'useless sentimentality' will not be a significant detriment. It may even put her at some measure of ease–"

The overheads lights flickered, causing everyone around the table to bolt upright, immediately snapping to an alert state. Even the stalwartly stoic Salazar Hunt twitched his whiskers at the unexpected development.

"Do you feel that?" Corporal Xavier asked.

"We've changed course," Sergeant Fletcher concurred.

"A jamming field just sprung up," Specialist Vance informed as he frantically checked his wrist computer. "I've got no comms, and my scans all come up garbled."

"To the bridge!" General Silver bellowed as he jumped up from the table. "Now!"

The five soldiers scooped up their arms and advanced swiftly to the Enigma's bridge. It took only moments, since the the bridge and conference room were immediately adjacent to each other. What no one expected was the sudden lurching and bucking of sudden maneuvers, nearly knocking everyone off their feet.

Once the party arrived, they found the command bridge in utter chaos. Officers and bridge crews dashed from console to console, from person to person. Everyone questioned, demanded and ordered, creating a frantic din of panic, while the large forward window showed Titania's tranquil horizon in utter irony.

At this mayhem, General Silver took a deep commanding breath, and bellowed with all this authority, "SHUT IT! All OF YOU!"

Almost instantly, the bridge crew replied with startled silence. With the attention of all present, the gorilla continued in a deep, booming voice, "whoever is in command here: what precisely is happening?!"

A slim dark-feathered raven –who wore the sharpest uniform with the most rank stripes– approached General Silver, and promptly introduced himself with a small curt bow, "Commander Arimoto Karasu: Enigma's Executive Officer. We've lost control of ship systems after a hostile virus infected them, and locked out our access. The cloaking system's been engaged, we're broadcasting a localized jamming field, and we're following a new course at low altitude; somewhere nearby by our reckoning."

"Was there anything else, anything even the slightest bit unusual prior to the lockout?" the gorilla asked, scrutinizing the other officer. When the raven hesitated for just a second, General Silver loomed over, saying, "whatever it is, Commander, spit it out!"

"Our comms monitoring system intercepted a transmission right before all this happened." Commander Karasu confirmed. "Direct from Andross to Engineer General Aster: something called 'Contingency Five' is now in play."

"Of all the blasted times!" the gorilla roared, throwing up his arms. "It has to be now!?"

"General Silver," the raven officer questioned, "what's Contingency Five?"

"I suppose you'll find out soon enough, Executive Officer Arimoto Karasu," General Silver hissed, seething with forced formality. "Right now, I'm going to get control of your ship back."

In a raging huff, General silver gathered his troops at the bridge entrance, and gave them their orders.

"We're going to the brig, now. We stop for no one, force our way through if need-be."

\


/

Brig.

It was a good thing Connor Griffon was alone in the box with Alastar as he played host to Rick's consciousness by some seriously non-standard means. Otherwise, this would be a fairly awkward scene for anyone looking in.

"What the hell did you do, Rick!?" Connor Demanded.

"I did what I had to, as you know I generally do," 'Rick' answered, shrugging with Alastar's shoulders.

"Cut the jokes old man, seriously," the avian spy spat as he shook his head. "Do you have any idea what's at stake here?"

"I can hazard a pretty good guess, but I do hope you can help fill in some of the gaps," 'Rick' answered, now with a tone of polite sincerity. "You see, through Alastar's handy interface and the virus controlling the ship, I'm aware of the Enigma's systems from here, just as he is; more-so, actually. It looks like just before the hack took effect, your comms monitoring system intercepted a transmission to Aster from Andross. There wasn't much in the transmission, but Andross mentioned something called 'Contingency Five'. Do you want to tell me what that's about?"

Contingency Five.

"Rrrraaaaagh!"

Outrage and fury swept over Connor. In his moment of utter rage, Griffon raised his blaster and fired nonstop, mixing his primal guttural yell with the blaring report of his handgun. Both went on and on in a furious cacophony until his lungs and his magazine cartridge were both empty. Then the tiny gray box rang out with a ghastly silence, punctuated with over a dozen smoldering scorch marks scattered across the far wall.

Now utterly spent, Connor tossed the useless weapon forward, sending it clattering onto the table just short of Alastar's bound hands. The canid was a little startled, but completely unscathed: not one shot connected, nor did Connor intend any of them to.

"So, are you done?" 'Rick' asked, glancing behind him to check the other spy's dubious ballistic handiwork. "Got that out of your system?"

"You stupid, sappy, sentimental old fossil!" the avian spy fumed as he began pacing through the box.

"Connor, what's wrong? Let me help you–"

"This is all your fault, you know," Connor snarled, and pointed an accusing finger at the scruffy canid face. "Your goddamn fault!"

"I'm just trying to stop Andross from doing something stupid, something you know is stupid."

"But now you've caused something even stupider!"

"Yes," 'Rick' drawled, rolling Alastar's eyes, "this ominous Contingency Five, is it?"

Agent Griffon stopped, and took a short moment to compose himself. As much as his anger and frustration was merited, he needed to impress upon the stubborn old man on the other side just how far sideways it's all gone. For starters: the facts...

"Venom Strategic Contingency number Five." Connor recited. It was pretty close to word-for-word what was in the files he'd seen before. "In the event that Corneria will obtain actionable intelligence on crucial covert operations, and if that intelligence can be used to justify major military action against Venom, then the agent responsible is blacklisted, marked for elimination, and records erased. Related assets are seized or destroyed, affiliated personnel are detained, disavowed, or terminated based on their assessed threat. That means Venomian forces are gonna come after me, this ship, and you'll lead them straight to you too."

"It's alright, Connor," 'Rick' assured, still displaying that cool confidence through Alastar's bound form. "I can handle it. I have a plan–"

"Screw you and your plans!" Connor shouted, cutting 'Rick' off. "It doesn't matter! Not anymore!"

The avian spy took an extra deep breath, maybe he was hyperventilating? Whatever, he needed to follow-up, sort out Rick's incomplete data before he got everyonekilled, and he really meant everyone...

"There's still more to Contingency Five: Venom begins a preemptive strike on Corneria immediately, before the new intelligence can be processed or a defense prepared. Rick, Venom's attack fleets are moving out right now! All Lylat is going to war, and there's nothing even you can do to stop it!"

And there it finally was. That visage of cool know-it-all confidence drained away from the scruffy canid face Rick was borrowing, and left a gaunt look of absolute horror in its place. Rick knew his pain and anguish now: he knew his caviler actions had just triggered exactly the worst-case scenario they were both trying so desperately to prevent. If only they were working together like old times, instead of against one another, then maybe the bloody horror of all-out war could have been avoided...

Without any warning, Alastar's body slumped forward, and jolted back upright.

"He's gone," Alastar said weakly, and it was definitely Alastar this time. "Rick cut off the link, he just... left."

The dreadful shock of the moment hung in the air for a while, frozen in time it seemed. There was no more recourse, no more backup plans, no contingency, no exit strategy. War was on its way, and one way or another, Connor knew he'd be one of the first casualties.

It was only now that Agent Griffon started to notice something amiss: he needed to take deeper breaths, like the oxygen was draining from the box, but Connor knew better. Like adding insult to injury, Andross gave the avian spy the same ultimatum given to Cadan Olsen: the same dose of Red Dust, and it was doing its grisly work right now.

Another deep breath caught Connor's attention, but not his own.

"You feeling a bit..." Alastar wheezed between haggard gasps, "short of breath?"

Alastar's dose of Red Dust was 'grown' from the very same dose attacking Connor's body. Though they'd been modified to attack his implants, it seemed the damned nanites still had their original mission embedded somewhere deep in their programming, and that dose was working just as hard on Alastar now...

"Aren't... you?" Connor sputtered.

The avian spy felt his mind fading away, thoughts failing, like being piss-drunk without any of the fun parts. He barely saw Alastar as he flopped face-down on the table, before Connor himself tumbled to the floor, and it all winked out.

\


/

Interior Corridors.

Soon after the ship lurched under Alastar's command, Sasha dashed down the Enigma's central corridor toward the brig, armed only with a sidearm that Graham hastily lent her as she left. He even offered to accompany Sasha, but she turned him down. Things took a turn for the truly bizarre once Alastar's crazy hack was online, and having one of her father's best troops tag along where Sasha was going wouldn't help. Graham's place was with Kell himself, helping to coordinate the his startled troops, leaving Sasha to handle the situation on her own.

Knowing her commanding officer, it was no surprise at all when she ran into General Silver, Major Hunt and her own squad as they all arrived outside the brig.

"General," the husky greeted with a brief nod.

"Captain Zura," the gorilla grunted as he and the others came to a stop. "I'm glad you could join us for this positively riveting development."

"I was just on my way to the bridge for debrief when it all went sideways," Sasha half-lied, but no one was really in a position to scrutinize her story. "I thought I'd make a slight detour here to check on Griffon and the prisoner."

"Debriefing will have to wait," General Silver replied as he scowled up and down the corridor. "We'll have to add this unsightly mess to the ever-growing dumpster fire this operation's become."

At this time, Major Hunt tried the door control, only to plainly state, "the door's sealed, sir."

Suppressing a growl, the larger ape strode up and slammed his fist on brig door, bellowing, "Agent Griffon! This is General Silver! Open this door immediately!"

No response.

The three enlisted soldiers looked on with awkward blank expressions. Though they tried to hide it in the presence of the gathered officers, they were confused, disoriented, in need of direction; in need of a commander. Despite being out of touch for some time and ill-equipped for the situation at hand, it still felt like exactly the right move to step in, and take control of her own troops.

"Xavier, Vance, there should be a manual release for the door: get it open now." Sasha ordered, pointing out an access panel below the door control. "Fletcher, you and I will cover the door for breach and entry."

"You got it chief," Corporal Xavier replied as he and the rest of the troops went to work, relieved to have commands to follow.

While the men worked, Sasha turned to the other officers, saying, "I can't technically give you orders, sirs, but we could use a couple guns to watch the corridor."

"It's fine, Captain," the hulking gorilla said, adding with a hint of amusement. "Welcome back to your command."

In short order, the brig door was forced opened by hand, and all the gathered soldiers entered with weapons at the ready. They found a silent, empty room with a few monitoring stations that showed only static. An open door at the far end of the room invited Sasha forward, and she approached cautiously, with blaster at the ready.

She found Alastar's limp form shackled to a tiny table, while Agent Griffon lay on the ground in front. Both weren't moving, weren't breathing. The shock and oddity of the sight hit Sasha hard, but didn't stop her. It gave her the resolve to take the next necessary actions, to move forward.

The Husky fired a shot point blank into Alastar's shackles, freeing him instantly.

"I need a hand here!" she called out while she hoisted up Alastar's surprisingly hefty body.

The entire party arrived at the strange, grim scene in seconds, stunned into an awkward silence.

"Don't just stand there gawking!" Sasha scolded while she draped the scruffy canid's large bare arm over her shoulders. "We need to get them to the ship's medical facility–"

She was cut off when the deck suddenly jolted beneath her feet, and she nearly dropped Alastar in the process. Then the background hum of ship's main power dropped in both volume and pitch before it dissipated entirely.

"We've landed," Major Hunt deduced quickly.

\


/

Author Notes:

I have no excuse or suitable reason why It's taking me as long as it is to write out these chapters and get them published. It feels like uncertainty, perfectionist anxiety, constantly second-guessing the structure and layout of the scenes, painstakingly retooling them and restructuring them over and over again. For such an important part of the story, the fear of not putting forward my best is in a sense holding me back from putting it out at all.

Eventually, my stubborn, self-critical, procrastinating self finally managed to tie me to my keyboard and kick this into the internet. Honestly, the fact that I'm not using a beta-reader is probably not helping my case.

Anyways, back to the story itself. Yes, you're seeing in my Star Fox story setting what kicked off the Lylat War of the games. I've only got a few more chapters to go: a couple loose plot points to wrap up, the final climax, and probably a bit of epilogue material.

To the writers who's stories I was following recently and haven't been writing reviews lately (you know who you are): I'll get on it ASAP.

As always, your feedback is most welcome.