Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The desert left little room for mistakes. You either learned that quickly or you were killed, the victim of dehydration, heatstroke, or one of the sandstorms that travelled through the wastes like demons. It was a world without mercy. Danger was all around, manifesting in all kinds of vicious and unpredictable ways. During the day the blistering sun scorched all in its path, and at night the chill winds stabbed and bit with feral abandon. There was no shelter or shade, no respite from the elements. Just sand. Filthy, gritty, endless sand. Adder hated the sand. It was everywhere, in all directions; north, south, even inside his boots.

Adder's career in the Black Hole Army had seen better days.

Everything had gone downhill after he'd agreed to follow Hawke. With their army in ruins after the war's end, they had withdrawn to distant Omega Land, where the so-called Allied Nations had only small outposts. There, it had soon become apparent that Hawke had no plan beyond simple survival. For weeks they had struggled just to get by, seizing what supplies they could from the places they passed. They had barely been able to keep the pitiful force that was left to them functioning, and any hope of restoring Black Hole to its former glory had grown distant indeed. It was a farce. A cruel joke played upon them by fate, and as far as Adder was concerned, it was all everyone else's fault. Their bid for world conquest had been plagued by incompetence from the very beginning. Sturm had squandered the greatest army the world had ever seen, Flak had failed miserably to prevent Orange Star from coming to the aid of the other countries, Lash's inventions had proven woefully unreliable, and as for Hawke… every decision Hawke made had only led them from bad to worse.

Salvation had come in an unexpected form. A tall, thin woman by the name of Kindle had approached their camp with an offer to provide much needed money and resources. Adder had been suspicious from the moment he first laid eyes on her. It was too perfect, too easy. Kindle had used their desperation to her advantage, tempting them with her seductive promises. Together, she had claimed, they would find a means by which to rebuild their forces. The offer had not come freely, of course. It was obvious that Kindle, or whoever it was she worked for, had an interest in using the Black Hole Army for their own ends. Not that Adder had any idea what those ends might have been, or what kind of deal she had eventually struck with Hawke. Those particular negotiations had taken place behind closed doors. Hawke had decided all their fates, and as it turned out, he had done so with his customary poor judgement.

Even now, Adder could scarcely believe how rapidly his entire world had been upended. With the backing of their mysterious new benefactor, Lash had begun work on a project that promised to rejuvenate the might of their army. Any resource shortages had become a thing of the past as the new influx of capital and supplies began to arrive, but that was not all that changed. As the days wore on, Kindle grew increasingly assertive, making greater and greater demands upon each of them. What had at first seemed like a deal based on mutual interest soon developed into a full blown coup, and Hawke had merely stood aside and allowed it to happen. It defied comprehension. The idea of Hawke sharing power, let alone relinquishing it, was unthinkable.

Soon after that, both he and Flak had been removed from all command duties, replaced by two of Kindle's wicked little cronies. Adder didn't know the reason why; he only knew that Hawke had been either unable or unwilling to prevent it. Once again, he had found himself with nothing. It was yet another torment unjustly inflicted upon him by a cruel and uncaring universe. With his place in Black Hole no longer secure, Adder had quickly made the decision to leave. He was many things, but he was no fool. He could see the writing on the wall, and there was no sense in staying and waiting for his position to deteriorate further. As for Flak, Adder did not know what had become of him, and nor did he care. Adder had never been concerned with anyone save himself. He had left in the dead of night almost as soon as he caught wind of the news, and he had done so alone. There had been no reason to look back.

At least, not until he had become lost in the infernal desert, and even his uncertain fate under Black Hole's new master had started to seem like an attractive prospect. Adder's half-baked plan of scurrying to the coast, hiding out in a luxurious villa, and ignoring every wretched conflict that wracked the world had fallen apart faster than he could believe. Instead of a comfortable retirement, his life had been reduced to a desperate scramble for survival in a desert he had never expected to find. That was the worst cruelty of all. Omega Land was supposed to be lush and temperate, not a hideous desert wasteland. The desert shouldn't have even been there.

The moon was high above Adder's head as he sat hunched over a tiny fire, brooding on his miserable fate. Nothing moved in the barren expanse except the flames, and the world was silent but for the faint crackle of burning wood. It was then Adder heard something. A faint noise, almost like a breath of wind. He frowned. Except here, sheltered by the dunes, there was no wind. Adder dismissed it as a product of his imagination and clutched at his arms for warmth.

Then he heard the sound again, closer this time. Mechanical and low, like the hum of an idling engine. Adder felt a wave of panic wash over him. Had he been discovered, or hunted down by some enemy? Even if Black Hole's new leaders had decided not to pursue him, which was far from certain, no doubt the Allied Nations were still plotting his capture. Adder's eyes began to flit about over the shadowed dunes, searching for any sign of the noise, but there was nothing there. He was in no danger. Adder closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Little by little, the fear began to subside as he decided that he must have been imagining things after all.

Another sound. He snapped his head around and saw-

"Adder."

He was hallucinating. He had to be hallucinating. Perhaps the dehydration was getting to him at last, or maybe the myriad cruelties of life had finally driven him to madness. Such a tragic end for a magnificent mind like his, to be reduced to nothing by the careless desert.

"Adder."

That voice seemed so real, though. He could have sworn he was actually hearing it, and the figure's appearance, so familiar… could a hallucination be this vivid? Adder shook his head. There was no such thing as ghosts. This was nothing more than an idle image conjured by his over-stressed mind.

"Not real," Adder muttered, his sunken eyes riveted to the fire. "You're not real."

A deep laugh burst out. If anything, it sounded amused.

"I assure you I am very much real."

The apparition moved forward and stood opposite Adder, on the other side of the small fire. Adder glanced upwards into those vivid green eyes, then shuddered and looked back to the flames.

"You're dead," he said. "I watched you die."

"Everything passed exactly as I planned. Hawke served his purpose, as I knew he would."

Adder was beginning to feel deeply unsettled, but not because of his mental breakdown. This particular brand of unease was a sensation he had not felt in months, not since… no. With a flicker of fear Adder stopped himself before he could venture any further down that line of thought. Even if he was going mad, he still had the presence of mind enough to know it. Adder might have been a coward, but that didn't mean he would bow down to his own deluded brain without a fight.

Without warning his fear gave way to anger. Adder picked up a handful of sand and held it before his eyes, watching the fine grains as they slipped from his grasp. That was what it all came back to – sand and suffering. He gave a bitter scowl and hurled the sand away. It was all so wretchedly unfair. He was Adder, a wickedly handsome man of unmatched intellect and wit. He was a tactical genius, the terror of Yellow Comet, and no less an esteemed personage than Black Hole's finest commander.

How could the world do this to him?

"Madness," Adder spat. "Madness, all of it."

The ghost stared at him, impassive. Adder shivered. He could practically feel those green eyes boring into him. It's not real, he told himself again. This could not be real.

"Have you forgotten the debt you owe? You are mine to command." There was a brief pause, before the figure struck a more conciliatory tone. "I need you, Adder. I need your help."

Adder laughed, a coarse, barking laugh. His mouth was parched, and every burst of laughter was painful, but he found himself unable to stop. Even he had to admit, he sounded insane. More than that he felt insane. He was alone, stranded in a desert, struggling to survive, he had started hallucinating, and he was laughing about it. The sheer absurdity of it all made him laugh even harder until he was completely helpless, caught in the grip of this bizarre mirth.

"My hallucination needs my help," Adder exclaimed once he was sufficiently recovered.

"No. I need your help." That deep voice was cold and unimpressed.

"My help!" Adder snarled. "Why is it that everybody always needs my help? Flak needs my help to come up with a plan. Lash needs my help to test her new toy. What about me? I need help!"

Adder clambered to his feet and turned his back on the fire, looking out over the undulating shadows of the desert with a maniacal look on his thin, pale face.

"Do you hear me, world?" He roared out with much greater volume than his raspy voice had ever held before. "I, Adder, need help!"

There was no reply, of course. Just sand. Endless, gritty, filthy sand, mocking him with its cold smoothness. All of a sudden Adder felt like a complete fool as he stared out into the wastes, panting like a dog with his purple hair messy and tangled. His outburst had been somehow sobering, and now, standing alone with the silence, his mind felt clear again. There was nothing there, of course. There never had been. Only the whistling of the wind and the crackling of the fire.

Adder had just started to relax when he felt the chill caress of something cool against his hand, and out of the corner of his eye he saw the dread apparition return. How could he feel the touch of something that wasn't real, unless he was further gone than he thought? Icy panic shot through his chest and he found himself paralysed. Something was wrong. His legs must have given way, because he found himself immersed in sand, staring upwards. All he could see was the night sky, the stars spread across the great expanse like a tapestry hung far above. Adder blinked furiously as his vision began to blur, a shroud of darkness encroaching over his senses. Not a shroud, he realised, but the black silhouette of the ghostly figure. It was coming closer. Soon it drew so close it eclipsed everything else, and the only stars that remained were those terrible green eyes.

Then the shadows bled together into a lightless void, and Adder knew nothing more.

Chapter Text

A soft sea breeze swept over the coastline of Orange Star in a pulse of fresh air, playful and carefree beneath the gaze of the morning sun. Only a handful of white clouds were visible in the perfect blue sky, basking in the sun's warmth as they drifted steadily towards the horizon. This particular stretch of the coast was isolated and picturesque, located far from any major cities or industrial centres. In spring and summer it was a popular tourist destination, but the weather was growing steadily cooler, and the stream of visitors had ebbed along with the summer warmth. On this particular mid-autumn morning, those in the region were not there to relax and enjoy the beautiful weather.

The breeze made its way inland until it reached the rolling hills set far back from the beach, ruffling the vibrant blue hair of a tall, muscular man looking towards to the sea. He was dressed in a plain white singlet that was stretched taut over his bulky frame, and below a reinforced belt he wore dark blue pants tucked into his heavy boots. His skin was tanned, and while he was serious and unsmiling as a matter of course, today he bore a much deeper frown than usual.

The man pulled a small com device out of his pocket and put it to his ear, his hard eyes never leaving the coast.

"HQ, this is Task Force Bravo. Do you copy?"

"I read you, Commander Max," the musical voice of Nell, Commander-in-Chief of the Orange Star Armed Forces, replied. "What's your status?"

It was a simple question, and yet the answer was anything but simple. There was a grim set to Max's square jaw as he looked out from the hilltop, mulling his reply. It was a lovely view. Verdant green plains tumbled down along a gentle slope to meet the white, sandy beach, beyond which the sparkling southern ocean stretched without end. Max had never been much for appreciating the beauty of nature, but even he had to admit that it was an especially pleasant scene. Or at least it would have been, under ordinary circumstances.

Today, however, the coast was swarming with soldiers and vehicles, all of them bearing the same uniform grey colour scheme. Even from a distance the extent of the force was plain to see. This was no scouting party or desperate band of raiders, but a small army, and a well equipped one at that. Behind the fortified positions that stretched along the coast, Max could discern the lurking shapes of tanks, artillery, and anti-air batteries. There was even a lone fighter jet circling high above. They were prepared for a fight, and that wasn't even the worst of it. That dubious honour belonged to a dark building looming in the distance, sitting atop a small peninsula at the heart of the enemy defences. It was a massive structure with a rounded top, and the mere sight of it had done more to rattle Max than anything else he'd seen for the better part of a year.

"Max? Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here." He paused, still staring at the tall building. "Listen, you said that some Black Hole troops had been spotted round here, right?"

For a moment there was only silence.

"Yes, that's right," Nell said. "We've received several reports that there were Black Hole forces in the area."

Max could hear the faintest hint of uncertainty enter her voice as she spoke. He and Nell had been close colleagues and close friends for a long time, and she was quite aware that he wasn't the sort of person who needed to confirm what they both already knew. Not without a good reason. Nell was one of the most perceptive people Max had ever met, and he had no doubt she could already sense that something was wrong.

"And did they say anything 'bout what kind of force was down here?" Max pressed.

"Nothing specific. Just that Black Hole soldiers had been sighted along the coast. Why, what's the matter? You know the mission."

That much was certainly true. It had been eight months since the end of the war in Omega Land, and Max had been assigned to his current operation for almost as long. He had only been allowed a few short weeks of leave before going back on active duty. After all that had happened during the last campaign, Max would have liked much more time to recuperate, but simple necessity had dictated otherwise.

The final battle of the Omega War had seen Black Hole's last base of operations destroyed and its leader Von Bolt taken prisoner, but that had not been the end of the fighting. Not entirely. Their victory had finished the Black Hole Army as an effective fighting force, but it had left numerous enemy troops at large, and with their leadership dead, captured, or missing, they had fled in all directions. The majority had been confined to Omega Land and the surrounding regions, but some groups had even managed to reach other continents. For months now there had been small, leaderless bands sporadically appearing all over the world. None of them were large or powerful enough to pose any real strategic threat, and with no support or supply network, most had seen their ability to fight degrade quickly. Even so, enough had turned to raiding, looting, and otherwise causing havoc to pose a serious security problem.

The response was informally known as 'Operation Clean-Up'. After international efforts to deal with the Black Hole remnants had faltered, Orange Star had taken matters into its own hands. They had made a point of stamping out any trace of their old foe in the months since the Omega War ended, and with good reason: no one trusted the peace to last while there were still Black Hole forces active, no matter how depleted they might have been. That the three commanders who had served under Von Bolt – the so-called Bolt Guard – were still unaccounted for only added to the urgency of the task. It was an ongoing operation even now, keeping much of Orange Star's military from their usual duties, and to Max, it was beginning to feel like there was no end in sight.

"Do we have a problem, Max?" Nell asked in a quieter voice.

Max gave a small grunt. "You could say that. They've got an awful lot of troops here, and they look pretty fresh. I don't think this is just another bunch of beat up leftovers from Omega Land. We're, uh, outnumbered almost two to one."

"Do you think you'll be able to handle them?"

"They're pretty well entrenched. I wouldn't want to risk it. Oh, and Nell…" Max's gaze once again settled on the building with the rounded top. "They've got a Black Cannon."

"Oh. Well, in that case…" She trailed off, evidently at a loss for words. "Hold your position and wait for further instructions. I'll see what I can find out about this and get back to you. Nell out."

Max shoved the com back in his pocket and breathed in, closing his eyes as the tang of salt on the air filled his nostrils. He hadn't really expected Nell to have any answers, but it was nonetheless unpleasant to hear how taken aback she was by the news. Max exhaled in an audible puff. He could hardly blame Nell for being surprised. After all, this was the first sign in eight months that Black Hole had anything left to its name except the scattered remains of a broken army.

Turning away from the coast, he saw a young woman in a baggy red jacket and pants walking towards him. The wind tried to toy with her fiery blonde hair, but in vain; it was tightly secured under a cap that was the same faded red colour as the rest of her clothes. Usually, Rachel would have sported a cheerful smile on her face, but today her comely features were marked by a frown almost as deep as Max's own.

"So what did my Sis have to say about all this?" She called out.

Max shook his head. "She doesn't know anything. I think she was just as surprised by that thing as we were."

"Nell really doesn't have any idea what's going on here?"

"She's lookin' into it," Max said, "but for now, we're on our own."

Rachel did not immediately respond. She reached the top of the hill and moved to stand beside him, pursing her lips as she looked out at the enemy's fortified position. Max watched as a shiver ran through Rachel, and she crossed her arms.

"It doesn't make sense, Max," Rachel said, her voice growing softer. "All the information we have tells us Black Hole shouldn't have this kind of firepower concentrated in one place, let alone the resources to build a Black Cannon."

"Yeah, that was what we thought last time," Max muttered. "Black Hole's like a bad penny. They just keep comin' back, no matter how many battles we win. Besides, we still haven't found the Bolt Guard. For all we know they're behind this."

"I don't know." Rachel's frown shifted. "They were finished after Omega Land. Our latest intel shows no Black Crystal or Obelisk activity anywhere in the world, and I can't think of any other way Black Hole could have rebuilt their army so fast. I can accept one miraculous recovery. But two? How can they keep doing this? Where are they getting their equipment and supplies from? It just doesn't make sense."

Rachel fell quiet, her attention switching to the single fighter plane patrolling above. She lifted a pair of binoculars from where they were clipped at her belt and began to follow the jet on its path. At its current distance the fighter was little more than a speck in the sky, and it was difficult to make out any details otherwise. After a time Rachel lowered the binoculars and passed them to Max.

"Get a look at that fighter up there and tell me what you think," she said.

Max examined the plane for only a brief moment. "It's a Black Hole fighter. So what?"

"Take a look at the engine and missiles. What do you notice?"

"Uh…" A confused light flickered in Max's eyes. "They're sort of a bluish grey?"

Rachel smiled a little. "Right. Thing is, all the fighters we came across in Omega Land had dark red engines and missiles. Weird, huh?"

Max looked through the binoculars again, longer this time. Once he was finished, he handed them back to her, and she saw a strange look in his eyes. It was difficult to identify, but Rachel could only think it was deep apprehension.

That was a bad sign.

It took a lot to shake Max. During the Omega War he had been the most fearless commander the Allied Nations had. Nothing fazed him, and he'd never hesitated to charge towards whatever Black Hole threw at them. Even though he had sometimes been headstrong to the point of foolishness, Rachel felt no shame in admitting that without his strength and experience the war would have gone very differently. If he was worried… she didn't want to think about what it might mean.

"What?" She asked, trying to make light of how troubled she felt. "It's just a colour change, which probably means that the Bolt Guard aren't-"

"Rachel." Max cut her off with just that one word, his eyes still locked on the fighter. "How much do you know about the Second Great War?"

"I read some of the reports," she said, faltering as she realised she had no idea what he was getting at. "Not much."

Max nodded and began to flex his fingers. "Well, during the Second War, Black Hole used fighters with that colour scheme. Blue instead of red."

"You think these troops weren't involved in the Omega War at all?"

"Yup."

"But-" Rachel stopped herself and took a deep breath. "Okay, so that means these guys are either left over from before then, or…"

"Or they're part of a new Black Hole Army, under the command of someone who fought in the Second War."

The words were bitter in Max's mouth as he spoke. It wasn't an idea that either of them wished to consider, but they had little choice. The possibility was too dangerous to ignore.

"Is that even possible?" Rachel asked. "There's been no other sign of anything like that."

"You got a better explanation for this?" Max nodded at the small army entrenched along the coast.

"No." Rachel stared at Max in disbelief, visibly struggling to come to terms with what he was suggesting. "But that – that's not-"

"Not fair?"

"Exactly!"

They both fell quiet, staring at each other. Rachel's cheeks were flushed and her bright eyes were fully earnest; she meant what she was saying. It was such an innocent and childish reaction that Max couldn't help but chuckle. After a moment Rachel rolled her eyes and began to laugh at herself as well, putting a hand to her brow in sheer embarrassment.

"I sound ridiculous, don't I?" She said with an abashed smile.

"Nah," Max said. "I get it. None of this crap with Black Hole has been fair."

Rachel looked to the horizon. "I just hate the thought that this isn't over. After everything we've been though, everything we've sacrificed…"

They both fell quiet, listening to the gentle lapping of the waves and the whistling of the breeze. The peaceful rhythm of the world was marred by the constant growl of vehicles in motion, their droning ubiquitous in the distance. Max watched as the wind picked up, forcing Rachel to shove the locks of her messy hair back under her cap. Even with that distraction her gaze never moved from the spectacle below. She only turned partway towards him at the sound of a faint crack somewhere nearby.

"Did you hear something?" She asked, a puzzled look on her face.

Max blanched. Over Rachel's shoulder, he could see the barrel of the Black Cannon pointing straight at them. Instinct kicked in; Max leapt forward and tackled Rachel, the two of them spilling downwards in an awkward roll. They were halfway down the hill when the cannon shell impacted. A split second later, the summit erupted in a geyser of dirt and flame, and the sun and clear sky were blotted out by darkness.

Max and Rachel were showered in flecks of soil as they came to a rough stop at the base of the hill. Max staggered to his feet, putting one hand on his spinning head to try and steady himself. There was a screeching whine in his ears after the explosion, his senses overloaded by the magnitude of the blast. It was a struggle just to think straight, let alone stand, but he forced himself to keep moving. Black Hole had spotted them, and they were under attack. They needed to get out of there. It was then Max realised that at some point during their downhill tumble, he had lost hold of Rachel. It took him a moment to spot her nearby. She was lying prone on her back, her face contorted in pain.

"You okay?" He shouted out.

A coughing fit was his only answer. Max jogged over to her and pulled Rachel to her feet.

"Come on, Rachel. We gotta get outta here."

"I think I hurt my ankle," she gasped, lurching sideways.

Max's frown deepened. Rachel was barely moving, and through his ringing ears he could hear the droning noises coming ever closer.

"You don't sound too good," he said.

Rachel winced sharply as she tested putting her weight on her right leg. "I'm just a little winded, I'll make it."

"Just relax. I'll get us out of this."

Max crouched and took hold of Rachel, lifting her in his arms. Once he was sure she was secure and supported, he raced towards a waiting armoured car as fast as he could.

The two of them had journeyed closer to the beach in the recon car in order to minimise the chance of being spotted; the rest of their task force was holding position further inland. As Max was in command, it was composed mostly of tanks and medium tanks, but it was still outmatched by the sizeable Black Hole battalion. Already he was thinking what the best plan of action would be. They could rely on their advantage in heavy equipment and attack, but Max knew that going in unprepared was a bad idea. The enemy positions were too well fortified. With the Black Cannon to provide cover, a foolhardy offensive would probably fail, and they'd be routed. No, Max decided, they had to play this smart. It was wiser to retreat and come up with a plan to neutralise the cannon while they waited for reinforcements to arrive.

"Get us back to the main army at the double, soldier," Max barked as he leapt into the recon's passenger seat. "We've got company, and I don't mean the kind you have round for dinner."

The driver gave a nod. "Right away, Commander Max."

Another shot from the Black Cannon obliterated what was left of the hill. Max looked over his shoulder, peering out the car's back window. All he could see was a veil of thick, dirty smoke where the rise had been. Then the smoke parted to reveal two Black Hole tanks, rushing forward at full speed.

"Can't this thing go any faster?" He grunted.

"I'm afraid not, sir."

The recon hit a rock and went airborne. There was a brief feeling of weightlessness before the armoured car crashed back down again, sending a vicious shudder through its occupants. Army vehicles weren't exactly designed with comfort as a top priority.

Rachel moaned as the recon hit the ground and kept speeding along. Looking down at her, Max noted that her lips were twisted together in agony, and her face had taken on a pale cast. He was beginning to wonder if she hadn't been hurt worse than he thought, but at least she wasn't in pieces.

An explosion filled the view outside Max's window with flame and darkness. Over the roar of the blast, he could just make out the sound of machine gun fire. It wouldn't be long before the enemy tanks found their mark. He grimaced and activated the recon's communications system.

"All units, this is Commander Max. We've got Black Hole troops inbound from the south. I want everyone ready to move in five minutes, tops. We're gonna have to make a fighting retreat. "

There was only static in reply.

"Is this thing working?" Max asked of no one in particular.

Another tank round hit just in front of them. The driver swerved to avoid the blast, but it was already too late. Glass cracked and metal buckled as the force of the detonation rocked the armoured car. The world outside became a hellish mirage of black and red. There was no way to see where they were going. A sheet of flame appeared on the bonnet, and Max could have sworn he heard the tyres burning.

Then they were through and into clear skies once again, the dying recon trailing fire and smoke.

"Get out!" Max yelled as the recon's engine began to splutter and catch.

Staying in the broken recon was a death sentence. Once it came to a halt, they would be an unmissable target. Max was under no illusions that their chances of survival were any better on foot, but they were out of options. He threw the door open, made sure he had a tight hold of Rachel, and leapt.

Max crashed into the dirt and hit it hard. That was his second rough fall in almost as many minutes, and his body was already beginning to scream in protest. He swore under his breath as bullets raced just overhead. The tanks were closing in, and they were almost out of time.

"We're screwed, aren't we?" Rachel said, her soft voice barely reaching Max's ear.

Her voice was little more than a whisper. Max could barely hear it at all beneath the chaos of the one sided battle.

"Hey, Black Hole couldn't beat me in three wars," he retorted. "I'm not going down so easy."

Max risked a quick glance up and saw the two tanks closing in on them, while in the distance, more enemy troops were moving out over the hills. The tanks were sweeping around, one on each side, machine guns ready to strafe. Their guns were pointed right at the ruined recon. Maybe if Max covered Rachel she'd stand a chance of surviving, or maybe the bullets would rip right through him and render the whole thing pointless.

"I'm sorry," he said to Rachel, unable to look her in the eye. "I shoulda done better..."

A moment later the tanks started to fire. There was a brief burst of machine gun fire, followed by the deeper blast of cannons. Max shuddered at the thought of getting hit by a tank cannon even as he heard the rounds detonate with a colossal explosion, even louder than he would have expected. He screwed his eyes tightly shut and waited for the fireball to reach them.

As suddenly as it began, the explosion subsided, and Max found himself completely unscathed. He looked up in confusion. For a few seconds he could only blink, unable to comprehend what had just happened. The Black Hole tanks were smouldering derelicts, and holding position near the recon were two medium tanks in the proud livery of Orange Star. Max had never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

He clambered to his feet and turned to face the tanks. Without thinking he brushed some of the dirt from his pants, noticing a small tear in the fabric and a cut on his thigh. Max shook his head in amazement. It was hard to believe that one small cut could be the extent of his injuries.

"Commander Max!" One of the gunners called out. "Everyone's ready to move out, just like you ordered."

Max let out a giddy laugh, lifted Rachel in his arms again, and sprinted over to the closest tank. "Come on. Let's get back to the rest of the army. We've got a whole bunch of Black Hole troops incoming."

With help from the crew, Max made sure Rachel was safe inside the tank before he climbed into the turret. Growing relief mingled with the adrenaline pumping through Max's veins, the combination a heady cocktail. He was surprised to be safe and alive, but that just made the feeling all the sweeter.

His com device beeped once, breaking the moment. He plunged his hand into his pocket and yanked it out, still struggling to overcome the shock and calm his racing heartbeat.

"Max? Is everything alright?" Nell's voice asked. "There have been explosions reported in the area."

"Black Hole's gettin' aggressive, and Rachel's been hurt. I'm not sure how bad, but we should get her somewhere safe."

"What? How-" Nell cut herself off, and Max heard her take a deep breath. "Alright, let's see... there's a small resort town about fifteen kilometres northwest of your position. Pull back and maintain a perimeter around the town, and I'll have a copter rendezvous with you there to pick up Rachel."

"Sounds good."

Max could practically picture the concern in Nell's bright blue eyes during the silence that followed. Nell and Rachel had always been close, even for sisters. In some ways, Nell was more like a parent to her younger sibling. It couldn't have been easy for her to stay professional and detached, he thought.

"How badly is Rachel hurt?" Nell asked, her voice quiet but controlled.

"She took a bad fall," Max said. "She's in and out of consciousness. I think she mighta broken a leg or an ankle."

"I see." Nell went silent again. "Max... I have to be honest, this sounds bad. I'll try and send some reinforcements your way, but you might have to make do with what you've got. Things just keep getting worse with Blue Moon, and most of our troops are needed along the border."

Max considered that. "I don't think they'll go too far from the coast. Didn't look like they had a whole lot of long range support. I get the feeling they more were trying to defend their outpost."

"In that case, let's focus on keeping the threat contained," Nell said. "If they try to advance further into the country, stop them. Otherwise, keep your distance and monitor the situation."

"You got it." Max smirked, even though he knew Nell couldn't see it. "Black Hole's not getting away with anything on my watch."

The two medium tanks had caught up to the rest of their task force. Max was pleased to note that every vehicle had turned around and was moving inland at a steady pace, the withdrawal carried out without delay. There was no idle chatter, only the incessant drone of engines and clanking of treads.

"I can't believe the Bolt Guard managed to build a Black Cannon," Nell continued after a short time. "It doesn't seem possible. Not without Lash."

"We, uh, thought about that," Max said. "It looks like the troops belong to someone from the Second Great War, not the Bolt Guard."

"So it's not the Bolt Guard, but Black Hole is back."

"I dunno. Something like that." Max snorted. "Or maybe Kindle and her two stooges got lucky and found a bunch of old equipment."

Nell gave a wry little laugh. "Wouldn't that be a coincidence." She paused. "I want to brief the other COs on this and try to figure out a course of action. Let's do it this afternoon. Can you have a command post set up by then?"

Max glanced back towards the beach. The grey tanks and soldiers were retreating over the hills, apparently unwilling to leave the Black Cannon's protection.

"Doesn't look like they're giving chase," he said. "I think we'll be fine out here for a little while."

"Alright then. I'll talk to you soon. And Max? Try not to do anything too rash."

He smiled and shook his head in amusement. "Understood. Max out."

Max placed the radio back in his pocket, his attention shifting to the surrounding landscape. All around them were grassy plains, dotted with small trees and bushes. Just ahead he could see a thin strip of tarmac, a lonely road that would lead them straight to the sleepy coastal town.

Looking over his shoulder again, he saw that the Black Hole troops had vanished behind the hills. He could no longer see the wreckage from the brief battle, and the smoke had already dissipated, leaving the blue sky pure and pristine. If not for the dark dome of the cannon peeking above the hills, it could have been mistaken for a perfectly ordinary morning.

Chapter Text

Orange Star's Commander Nell waited alone in the conference room, staring out the window with distant eyes and her button nose almost touching the glass. She was perfectly calm, even though the meeting had been set for four thirty and it was now a quarter to five. It was understandable. Considering the troubles their country faced – the mess they somehow had to deal with – it was a minor miracle she had been able to arrange a meeting at all.

Her face was still like the surface of a pond as she watched the traffic passing through the canyon of steel and concrete below. It was a world of gold dappled shadows. Some few beams of light still penetrated the skyline as the hour grew late, but the view from the twelfth floor of the military headquarters was largely blocked by the multitude of towers and skyscrapers in the heart of the capital, and so the only way to look was down. Cars rushed back and forth through the shadowed maze, ferrying people home after a long day's work. Nell only wished she could allow herself the same luxury.

As she waited by the window, Nell brushed a speck of dust from one of the buttons of her suit, barely aware of what her hand was doing. With the daylight beginning to falter, the world had taken on a softer aspect, and Nell's thoughts grew more distant to match. Her mind wandered, almost to the point of daydreaming. It was a strange feeling. She was not accustomed to lulls in activity such as these; she always tried to avoid any downtime, not that her workload had ever left much space for it. This was the first moment she had taken to actually stop, and allow the implications of what had happened that morning to sink in. Now, alone with the silence, Nell found she was not analysing the current situation, or asking more questions of herself, but merely waiting for her commanders to arrive.

In truth there was little more to ask. Since speaking to Max earlier in the day, Nell had done all she could to unravel the mystery of the Black Cannon. She had gone over every recent intelligence briefing and status update, searching for anything that might explain where these Black Hole troops had come from. She had found nothing. If there had been any prior warning of this incursion, they had completely missed it.

Nell was about to adjust her small garrison cap when the door eased open with only the faintest sound, followed by steady footsteps. She cast a glance over her shoulder to see who it was, and the faraway feeling soon slipped from her mind.

She was just in time to watch as a young woman with shoulder length red hair marched into the room. Her posture was ramrod straight, and her brown eyes moved to Nell without betraying any emotion. She was dressed in dark green military fatigues, although instead of wearing the top half, she opted for a short white tank top that bared her midriff a little. Around her neck hung a pair of dog tags, the glinting metal a perfect match for the fierce determination in her eyes.

"Ma'am," the woman said with a curt nod.

It was all the greeting that was needed. Nell had known Sami for a long time now, and she felt they had come to understand each other well. Sami was professional by nature, and while she had grown much more comfortable in Nell's presence over the years, she was always careful to show the respect due to a superior officer.

Nell turned away from the window with a smooth toss of her long blonde hair, making sure to offer Sami a warm smile. She walked to the head of the table but did not sit down, electing to gather and rearrange her notes instead. Sami glanced at what Nell was doing, but said nothing further.

"I'm glad you got here safely, Sami," Nell said. "You didn't have any trouble?"

"None, ma'am." Sami took a seat and put her arms at her sides, still holding herself rigid. "Everything's quiet over east. At least for the moment."

Nell nodded, the movement barely noticeable in the darkening room. She wondered if she needed to switch the lights on. It hadn't been late enough to do so when she arrived in the conference room, but the daylight was steadily dwindling, and the shadows grew more stark against what light made its way through the windows. Nell was still considering that when a flatscreen covering half of the wall behind her came to life, an image of Max's broad face spread across its surface.

"How you two doing?" He shouted at them.

He had good cause to be loud. Max was surrounded by a veritable flurry of commotion. Nell and Sami could see all manner of activity in the background behind him, from vehicles driving past to tents and defences being erected. Even through the video link, the rumble of engines and the muffled shouts of soldiers working filled the conference room.

"We're doing okay," Sami replied with a small smile. "How about you? It sounds like you had a bit of excitement down at the beach."

Max's expression grew sour. "Yeah, you could say that. Anyway, we ready to start the meeting?"

"Almost," Nell said. "We're just waiting on –"

She broke off as a boy dressed all in red raced into the room and slammed into a seat. He was visibly out of breath and his dark brown hair was splayed in all directions, but that did not seem to slow him in the slightest as he pulled his chair up to the table and broke out a grin.

"Sorry I'm late!" He burst out between gasps.

Max shook his head and chuckled. "Andy, are you ever gonna learn to read a clock?"

"It wasn't my fault!" Andy shot back. "All the lifts were broken and I had to take the stairs up twelve floors. It took ages!"

Sami stared at him in bewilderment. "The lifts aren't broken. I just took one."

"Huh?"

Andy's head darted around, first to the door, then back to Sami, and finally further in the direction he had come from. For several seconds he peered at the wall as if trying to stare straight through it and study the lifts in question. At last Andy shook his head in defeat.

"If they're not broken, then why did they look so weird?"

Max chuckled again. Andy might have proven himself a hero in the two great wars, but he could be remarkably clueless at times.

"In any case," Nell said, doing her best to hide an amused smile, "I think we can make a start now." She turned to Andy and Sami. "As you both know, Max and Rachel headed south to wipe out a small band of Black Hole troops, one we thought was just another remnant from the Omega War."

"Where is Rachel?" Andy asked, frowning. "Shouldn't she be here?"

"I'll get to that in a minute," Nell advised him. "As I was saying, what they found was something very different. Max?"

"The forces weren't Bolt Guard scraps," Max said, his tone dead serious. The screen flickered, for a moment making it appear as though he had three eyes. "They were brand new troops, and they looked like the ones we fought in the Second Great War, back when Sturm was in power."

Andy and Sami exchanged a glance. Sami's expression gave little away, but Nell could see traces of apprehension in her eyes. Andy was much easier to read, and by the look of him, mostly perplexed by the news. Nell could hardly blame him for that. No one knew what this meant, or how it was even possible. Andy was hardly the most analytical commander, but even he could tell that everything about this was wrong.

"Did you find out who's commanding them?" Sami asked.

Max gave a noncommittal shrug. "They weren't exactly in a talking mood. Rachel and I got fired on when they saw us watching 'em, and we barely made it out of there. Rachel's been airlifted back to the city with a broken ankle and concussion."

"The bottom line," Nell interrupted him, "is that it looks like we were wrong. We thought we'd finished off Black Hole in Omega Land, but apparently that isn't the case."

There was silence for a short time after that.

"Couldn't these guys just be from the second war?" Andy suggested. "Maybe they've been hiding out somewhere and didn't know it was all over."

Max looked at his friend and shook his head. "Andy, they had a Black Cannon."

Sami blinked in surprise before turning and pinning Nell with an accusing stare. "Someone built a Black Cannon inside Orange Star's borders and we didn't even know about it?"

"Most of our surveillance satellites are pointed at Blue Moon," Nell explained, helplessness and worry spilling from her eyes. "There was no reason to be watching an isolated stretch of our own coast. And to be honest, it's beside the point. What we need to focus on is the fact that Black Hole has somehow recovered significant military capabilities, and it looks like they've got their sights set on Orange Star. Again. We don't know the extent of their strength, but I think we have to assume the worst."

"So we need to be ready to repel an invasion," Sami surmised.

"We need to be ready to repel two," Nell corrected her.

"I still don't get it," Andy said, his brow furrowing. "If it's not the Bolt Guard behind this, then who's left? Hawke and Sturm are dead, and it can't be…"

Andy trailed off, his confusion giving way to something more melancholy. As Nell watched he swallowed, struggling to continue. She knew the reason why, and it filled her heart with sympathy. There was another Black Hole commander whose fate they knew, and it was not the fate any of them had hoped for.

"We never did find out what happened to Flak or Adder," Nell said, saving Andy from having to say the name.

Sami snorted and rolled her eyes. "I think we all know that brute Flak doesn't have the brains to plan anything more complicated than breakfast."

"Adder, then," Nell suggested, undeterred by Sami's scorn. "He's a competent commander and an able strategist. Plotting an invasion wouldn't be beyond him."

"Yeah…" Max squinted a little as he considered the idea. "But why? I mean, Adder's the type to hold a grudge, but he was barely in Orange Star. Seems like he'd rather be messin' with Yellow Comet or going after Grit. What's he got against us?"

"Max is right," Sami said in a firm voice. "Adder wouldn't attack us. He's a coward, and he wouldn't pick a fight he thinks he'll lose. If Adder was calling the shots, I think he'd try to bully the weakest, most vulnerable country he could find. That's not Orange Star."

Nell forced a faint smile. "I'm open to other suggestions."

"Could Black Hole have a new leader?" Andy jumped in. "Another new leader, I mean."

"Sure," Max said. "If one old psycho can show up out outta nowhere and take charge, why not two? But if there's a new boss, how'd they know there was still anything left to take over?"

Sami let out her breath in a frustrated little puff. "Maybe we're overthinking this," she said. "Max, you said that these troops didn't come from Omega Land, right?"

"Yeah." He nodded. "Yeah, that's certainly what it looked like."

"So that doesn't mean the Bolt Guard aren't behind this," Sami said. "It just means that these particular troops either predate the last war, or came from another location."

"What are you thinkin', Sami?" Max asked.

Sami looked to each of them in turn. "I think we should consider the possibility that Kindle is the new Commander-in-Chief of Black Hole."

"It's certainly a possibility we can't rule out," Nell admitted.

She put a hand to her brow and massaged it briefly. The current whereabouts of the Bolt Guard was another mystery that had taken on renewed importance since the events of that morning. Much time had been spent tracking the movements of any planes or vehicles they might have used in the aftermath of the final battle, and with no success. Every trail had gone cold, and in the months that followed there had been no sign at all of Kindle, Koal, or Jugger. Nell wondered if Sami had been right. Perhaps Orange Star had been stretched too thin, so focused on Blue Moon that they had missed something they should have seen, something that would explain this sudden resurgence. It was an uncomfortable possibility, but not an entirely implausible one. Their resources were finite, after all, and they had managed to miss the signs of Black Hole's machinations once before.

Nell considered the idea for a little longer before setting it aside. Orange Star was not the only country keeping watch for any sign of Black Hole or its commanders; even if they had missed an important clue, surely Green Earth and Yellow Comet would not have been so negligent. Presuming their allies were still willing to share that kind of intelligence with Orange Star, Nell thought cynically. The Allied Nations were not as close as they once had been.

"Would Kindle even want to attack Orange Star like this?" Andy asked, looking from Max to Sami.

"I don't know," Nell admitted. "It's possible. But the truth is that we don't know who's behind this. We don't know where these troops came from, and we don't know their objective." She sighed. "We simply don't have enough information."

A medium tank drove past behind Max, and they all fell silent. Andy was staring at the polished wooden table with wide eyes, and next to him Sami's lips were set together more tightly than normal. None of them could argue with Nell's conclusion. The lack of answers was troubling. There were too many pieces missing from the puzzle, too much they didn't understand. Was this merely the end of something, a fitful epilogue to a time of great upheaval? Or did the cannon signify the beginning of something new? There was no way to know, and no remedy for the unspoken fear that something greater had already begun. They would have to make their choices without any comprehension of the magnitude of what they were facing, and they all knew how dangerous that could be.

"I think we should wipe out these Black Hole troops," Max said. "Get rid of 'em before they can do any harm."

"Is that a good idea?" Sami asked. "We've got no idea what we're dealing with here. It could be a trap."

"Sami has a point," Nell agreed. "We can't afford to act rashly."

"Maybe we don't know where these Black Hole goons came from. So what?" Max shrugged. "We know where they are now. Whatever they're up to, they can't cause any more trouble if we wipe 'em out."

Nell put a hand to her chin as she considered that. "You'll need reinforcements."

Max shot her a confident smile. "Pull a few units from the border and I'll have these guys off our land in no time."

"Alright, Max," Nell said. "We'll do it your way. Start putting together an attack plan. Andy, Sami, I want you two to head back out to the Blue Moon border. Just… keep waiting, and give Max the troops he needs."

"Yes ma'am," Sami said.

"What will you do, Nell?" Andy asked.

"First I'm going to contact Green Earth and Yellow Comet," Nell replied. "Hopefully this incident will convince them to uphold our alliance, and they'll be willing to lend their assistance. Then, I think I'll pay a visit to Thornfield."

Max stirred at the name of Orange Star's highest security prison. "You sure that's necessary?"

Nell looked straight into Max's eyes. "We have no idea who's behind Black Hole's resurgence, or what their goal is. Let's face it, we need more information."

"And no one knows more about Black Hole than -"

Sami cut herself off before she could say the name. There were still a lot of painful memories from the last conflict. The Omega War had been about more than conquest or domination; it had been a battle for life itself, and the horrors it had unleashed were not easily forgotten.

Max stared back at Nell, his strong jaw set in an apprehensive line. "Just take care of yourself. Who knows what that twisted nut job might say."

"Don't worry about me," Nell said with forced cheer. "You're the one with a real challenge ahead of you. Keep me updated on the situation, and send me your plan once it's complete."

The only reply she received was a broad grin before Max terminated the connection and the screen went black.

"Do either of you have any questions?" Nell asked, turning back to Andy and Sami.

"No ma'am," Sami said.

Andy shook his head. "Nope! This'll be easy!"

"Well, I hope you'll at least remember to take this seriously," Nell commented, before shaking her head and allowing herself a small smile. "I'll contact you again as soon as I learn anything new. Dismissed."

They left with only the sounds of muffled footsteps and creaking chairs, and Nell was once again alone with the sunset.

For a time she stood there like a statue, letting idle thoughts and fears run rampant through her mind. It was easier, she reflected, to keep busy, always moving from one problem to another and working hard to solve them. With only the silence for company, all she could do was marvel at how much the world had changed, and not for the better. Nell glanced down at the gleaming wood of the table and at the thick file resting on top of it. She could not prevent the twist of disbelief that crossed her pretty lips. How had it come to this? She asked herself, and not for the first time. It was a storm that had been brewing for months now, and still the whole mess seemed absurd.

Nell had never been under any illusions about what their alliance had meant to Blue Moon. It was a pact born of necessity, nothing more. Simple survival had demanded that they work together, and so they had. Nell had hoped that the seismic changes of the past few years would provide a real opportunity to reset their relationship, of course, but she had always maintained a healthy cynicism regarding their old rival. And yet, somehow it had still shocked her when Blue Moon had accused Orange Star of violating the terms of the Allied Nations Charter. Orange Star had denied the charges and thrown back a few choice accusations of their own, but Green Earth and Yellow Comet were still refusing to comment either way. All the bonds between them dissolved in a heartbeat as every nation tried to justify where they stood. The lines between them had been drawn, turned into cracks, and deepened.

The worst part of it was seeing what it had done to Rachel. After Omega Land, Rachel had been elated. She had been so proud of the way she had led the Allied Nations and of everything the four countries had accomplished by working together. Seeing everything fall apart not six months later – all the battle-forged friendships cast aside and forgotten – had cut her to the bone. Even now Rachel remained a voice of hope, counting on Sasha and Colin to resolve things peacefully. Nell sighed. If the worst came to pass and they found themselves at war with Blue Moon, she did not like to think about what it might do to her little sister.

A sharp knock came from the door, twice in quick succession. Nell had no chance to even ask who was there before the door was opened, and two men in suits and dark sunglasses walked purposefully inside. Nell raised an eyebrow, watching as the two men took up positions on either side of the door. She was well aware that they were members of the presidential security detail; what surprised her was the fact that they were there at all.

"Afternoon, Commander Nell," one of the men greeted her.

"Did we have an appointment?" She asked in a dry voice.

The agents exchanged a glance and smiled. "No ma'am. Standby for the President of Orange Star."

Nell blinked as the man in the midnight blue suit strode into the room, looking every bit as tired as she felt. This was not a visit she had been expecting. As head of the armed forces Nell was often called to attend policy meetings with President Hale of Orange Star, either to advise him on military matters or to be informed of government policy. It was unusual, however, for the President to come to her for a briefing, rather than the other way around. As leader of the country, Hale's schedule was even more hectic than her own, and he was first amongst a select few people in Orange Star whose orders Nell was sworn to obey.

"Mr. President, sir," Nell said, standing at attention.

He threw her an unimpressed glance. "Please, Commander, there's no need to stand on ceremony."

"Of course not, sir."

Nell looked over the President with a wary eye as he walked past her, wondering why he had declined to advise her of this visit. It was highly unusual, just as it was unusual for Hale to display such open annoyance. He was rarely anything but diplomatic and courteous, his persona that of the perfect statesman.

Then again, Nell thought, these were unusual circumstances, and the President's appearance reflected it. There were dark bags under President Hale's eyes and a sadness, a sort of solemn dignity in his bearing. She was not surprised. Hale had been elected three years ago, and in that time Nell had watched as he led their country through the most gruelling war the world had seen in decades, and emerged a better man for it. The very idea of the Allied Nations had been his, and seeing it all go up in smoke… Nell knew exactly what kind of toll it would be taking. She had done as just as much to build the alliance behind the scenes even as Hale made the official overtures. The concerns of recent months were heavy burdens for anyone to bear, and no doubt the news about the Black Cannon had only made matters worse.

"What was it you wanted to see me about, sir?" She asked at last.

The President had put his hands in his pockets and turned to face the window. He was standing almost where Nell herself had waited for the meeting to start, and she could not glean any hint of his intent. That could only be deliberate, Nell decided.

"I read your report," Hale said, his voice neutral. "I want to know what you're thinking."

"We've already started putting plans in place for a counterattack. The Black Hole outpost should be destroyed within the next few days."

"The outpost." A rueful laugh escaped from Hale. "A Black Cannon on our shores suggests a significant threat to national security. If this is the herald of something greater…" he paused. "Have you made any progress in discerning whether or not this force came from Omega Land?"

"A little." Nell glanced away. "It's all speculation at this point, but we're confident that they weren't part of the Omega War. It's possible they're under the command of someone from the Second Great War, or at least someone connected to it."

Hale's steel grey hair bobbed a little, signifying his acknowledgement. "How robust is this speculation?"

"Honestly, sir?" For a second Nell hesitated. "We don't have much to go on. I'm following up all the leads I can on my end, but as you're aware, there's a great deal about Black Hole we still don't understand."

"Of course," the President said, his voice softening slightly. "If there's anything you need..."

"I'll be sure to ask," Nell reassured him.

Hale nodded again. "And you realise your mobilisation's already been noticed? We've been questioned about it by the media, wondering what the military's doing down by the beach. If any enterprising journalists decide to look into this, there's a good chance they'll catch wind of what's going on."

There was something in the President's tone that gave Nell pause. Experience had taught her to recognise the terse undercurrent that crept into Hale's voice when he was worried, but this was something else entirely, something she could not quite place.

"I can have Commander Max keep a tight lid on things if you like," she offered.

"No. I want this story to break."

And there it was. Nell could see that the President had an agenda in mind, and now she had a good idea what it was.

"There'll be a panic, sir."

At last Hale turned to face her, his lined face inscrutable. "I know. But we have to look at the bigger picture."

He gave a sigh that was like a dam bursting and ran a hand through his hair, all at once looking human again. As he walked away from the window and joined Nell by the conference table, the President bowed his head a little and straightened his scarlet tie.

"I've requested a summit meeting with the Chancellor of Green Earth and Emperor Kanbei of Yellow Comet," he explained. "Olaf too. I want to try and smooth things over, and perhaps even keep our alliance intact. To that end, I want to present a full briefing on this development. Black Hole has given our countries common cause before. Maybe it can do so again."

"It's a long shot," Nell said. "If we had proof of a bigger threat, that might make a difference, but this... I don't think it's enough to change anyone's mind."

"You may be right," Hale conceded, "but we have to try."

Nell said nothing. She doubted that anything would come of the President's efforts, but it was not her place to dissuade him.

"I won't give up on everything we've built without a fight," he said firmly. "The way I see it, this is the best chance we've got to preserve the Allied Nations. And if news of a resurgence breaks independently of the administration, hopefully it won't look like we've manufactured the threat."

"I'm sure Olaf will accuse you of that regardless," Nell murmured.

"Maybe so. But we've nothing to lose by trying."

"I'll make sure to keep you in the loop, then."

Hale nodded a few times, then made to leave. As he came to the doorway he stopped, and turned back to look at her one last time.

"Nell…" He frowned, as if having difficulty finding the right words. "I want you to know, you have my full confidence."

She smiled a little, though such a small thing was not nearly enough to mask her fears. "Thank you, sir."

And with that, the President and his men were gone.

At first Nell closed her eyes and merely let the silence and the emptiness wash over her. There was something peaceful about it, something elusive she could not quite keep hold of. Perhaps it was foolish to even try. There would be time enough to rest later. For now, there was still far too much that needed to be done. She had a trip to prepare for, and it could not wait.

Not even for a moment.

Chapter Text

Nell walked along a stark white corridor, all the troubles of recent days weighing upon her plain to see. They lived in her every expression, were writ in the pensive cast of her lips. Her golden hair and purple suit were a vivid shock against the sterile environment of Orange Star's highest security prison. Thornfield was a place removed from the wider world and its colours, and Nell could not help but feel like an unwanted intruder, in a place she did not belong. Coming to a security door, Nell showed her ID to the guard and was allowed to pass. She strode on, her high heels clacking against the floor in a rapid beat. There was a light bounce to her blonde hair as she walked, but it could not offset the apprehension in her blue eyes as she moved deeper into the building.

She came to another security door. This one was barely recognisable as a door at all; to the naked eye it looked like nothing more than a solid sheet of metal. There were two fully armed Special Forces soldiers standing outside, one of whom nodded as Nell approached. Thornfield was not a prison overseen by any ordinary personnel. It was a maximum security military facility, and the men and women guarding it were all highly trained and carefully vetted.

"You got business with that piece of scum in there, ma'am?" One guard asked.

Nell sighed. "Unfortunately, I do."

"Well, you know the drill."

It would take a lot more than simple ID to access the inner sanctum of Thornfield. First, Nell leant over and looked directly at a small camera next to the door. A ping sounded once the retina scan was complete. Next she pressed her hand against a small panel that would scan for fingerprints, take her pulse and conduct a host of other checks not even she knew the full extent of. Once all that was satisfied, the only remaining protocol was to speak a password into a sensitive microphone. If it detected the slightest anomaly in her voice, the door would remain shut. Of course, there was none to be found, and once all the scans were complete she was given a positive beep.

"You're clear to go through, Commander."

The door slid sideways into the wall with a rumble like distant thunder. Nell waited patiently for it to open, and, once the way was clear, she stepped across the threshold. She had barely taken two steps before it began to close again. She didn't look back at the heavy door as it shut. It was half a metre thick, designed to keep in the worst of the worst and keep out anyone that might try to free them. There was little short of a Black Hole Neotank capable of breaking through it. Beyond the door the corridor continued, empty, white, and soulless.

Nell stopped partway down the corridor, just outside one of the reinforced cell doors. A strange expression flitted across her face as she came to a halt. It was not the destination that had brought her to Thornfield, but she was drawn there nevertheless. There was a small slit in the door, a pitiful excuse of a window made from bulletproof glass. Nell's apprehension mounted as she moved towards the door, but her curiosity – and her concern – would not let her pass by without checking on her former charge. Bracing herself for what she might find, Nell put her eyes to the slit and peered through.

The room inside was flat and barren. There were no windows, and the source of the harsh light was almost indistinguishable from the walls. Beyond that, the cell was furnished only with basic amenities and a low bed built into the floor. It was the kind of prison only the most dangerous of criminals might warrant.

In spite of that, the room's occupant did not look particularly threatening. She was a thin, pale girl no older than twenty with a shock of wild black hair standing out in all directions. Her arms were locked away in a straitjacket, and she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, staring at a wall. Her dark eyes were constantly moving, dancing over the blank surface as if she could see things beyond the sight of ordinary mortals. The reality of her situation did not even seem to register; the girl was utterly enthralled by the power of her own imagination. Her pouty lips moved in time with the motion of her eyes, driven by a manic frenzy that was impossible to understand.

Unsettled by what she saw, Nell turned away and kept walking.

After the end of the Omega War it had seemed as though there was hope for Lash, the wunderkind inventor of Black Hole. With Hawke dead after the final battle, it had fallen to the Allied Nations to decide her fate. Neither Yellow Comet nor Green Earth had volunteered to take Lash, and sending her to Blue Moon was obviously out of the question. By simple process of elimination, Orange Star had been left with the duty of providing a new home for Lash, and attempting to rehabilitate her. It had seemed so easy, so promising. Nell had been sceptical of Lash's redemption from the beginning, but even she couldn't help but marvel at how quickly everything had gone sour.

It had all started when Olaf learned what was to become of Lash. Not a month after the former Black Hole Commander had taken up residence in Orange Star, Blue Moon had levelled charges of war crimes at her, and demanded her extradition. The decision to deny the request had, at the time, seemed easy. While Lash had been responsible for horrible atrocities, she had also helped a great deal towards the end of the last war. Certainly no one wanted her to face a firing squad. Besides, Blue Moon had become a steadfast ally during the recent wars. The prevailing view had been that whilst Olaf might not like the situation, he would come to grudgingly accept it.

As it turned out, they had been badly mistaken. The minute the extradition request was denied, Blue Moon had retaliated by suspending cooperation in several key areas. Any diplomatic attempts to placate their neighbour had failed, and Orange Star had been left with no choice but to harden its stance and protect its own interests. Olaf had been recalcitrant, and relations between Orange Star and Blue Moon had been worsening ever since. All the smouldering grudges, hastily buried in the name of survival, had sparked to life once more. It was shocking just how quickly the alliance had deteriorated. Within months they had been at each other's throats again over issues of disputed territory. Perhaps there was still a chance for things to turn around. Knowing all too well what a stubborn idiot Olaf could be, somehow Nell doubted it.

As for Lash herself, at first it seemed like she truly had changed. Her initial weeks in Orange Star had been marked by no shortage of teething problems, but she soon managed to settle into a new routine. She was still entirely too wild for anyone's liking, but to Lash's credit, she had made a genuine effort to start a new life. Whether that was because it was something she truly wanted or merely because her old life had crumbled to dust in the desert was impossible to say. For all her genius, Lash had shown little inclination to take charge of her own destiny. Whatever the case, she had managed to put her intellect towards more constructive ends, and shown a childlike wonder at some of the comforts life in Orange Star had to offer. She had even struck up a strange sort of friendship with Andy as the two of them tinkered with all sorts of machines. For one single, fleeting moment, she had almost seemed whole.

Olaf had destroyed that as well. Everyone had been affected by the rising tensions with Blue Moon, but no one had suffered more than Lash. Nell was not sure why that was the case; she could not decide if it was because Lash saw nothing to apologise for in her past, or because she actually had begun to feel remorse for her deeds. It made little difference. Whatever the reason, Lash's moods had grown darker and more volatile as relations with Blue Moon had worsened. Soon after one of her experiments put sixteen soldiers in hospital for a week. They had placed restrictions on her, tightened her leash, but Lash had treated it all as a game. Guarding her had rapidly become much too dangerous as she took more and more delight in outfoxing her wardens. Eventually there had been no choice but to confine her to Thornfield. Nell sighed. Maybe it would have been easier for everyone if they had just given Olaf what he wanted.

Nell stopped again as she came to another cell door. Unlike the others, this one had two commandos stationed outside. Behind this door was the most important person in the entire facility, and the man Nell had come to see.

"You've prepared the prisoner?" She asked.

"Yes ma'am. He's all ready. Seemed real interested to hear he'd be having a visitor."

"I bet he was. Well, I suppose there's nothing to gain by waiting."

Taking her hint, one of the guards put a hand to his radio. "Central, this is Blackwatch. Open up cell I7."

"Opening up cell I7."

A small light on the right side of the door changed from red to green, and there was an audible hiss as air escaped around the frame. The guard who had spoken leant over and opened the door while the other covered the cell with his rifle. Once they were sure everything was in order, a quick gesture and nod gave Nell the all clear, and she stepped into the room.

Inside it looked much the same as Lash's cell, with the exception of a table and chair in the middle of the room. They had been placed there exclusively for Nell's visit. On the far side of the table an ancient, wrinkled old man sat in a bulky plastic wheelchair, medical equipment mounted on its frame. The man bore sagging jowls and a portly figure, and his round belly strained against the neon blue prison suit he wore. His eyes were tiny black beads that locked onto her the second she entered the cell and refused to back down, a palpable menace smoking in their depths. He did not speak. He only watched and waited.

Nell ignored the man while she pulled out the opposite chair and took a seat. She made a point of straightening her purple skirt, refusing to look at the prisoner as she ironed out any creases with one hand. Then, with deliberate care, she took the time to neaten her hair and adjust her hat. Only when she felt ready did Nell set a small recording device on the table and look the old man in the eye, her face devoid of emotion.

"I hope you're in the mood to talk, Von Bolt."

"Why… should I talk to you?" His voice was raspy and dry, like sandpaper rubbed across rock.

"Because you don't have much choice." Nell's eyes were cold as winter itself as she matched his black gaze. "Let me be perfectly clear. The only reason you're still alive is because Orange Star believes that you might be of some use."

Von Bolt said nothing. He just inhaled with a faint squeak.

"We found something interesting when we tested your DNA," she said, deciding to switch tactics. "You committed atrocities long before the Omega War, didn't you, Von Bolt?"

Still the man refused to speak, but his eyes narrowed just enough to show Nell she had found the leverage she needed.

"You fought in the wars of old, in the Cataclysm, where your conduct was brutal even by the standards of Green Earth's former regime. You were responsible for half a dozen war crimes. And when the war turned against your country, you deserted and disappeared rather than face death with any kind of dignity." She clasped her hands together on the table. "As I said, the only reason you're here is because you might prove useful. If – as your silence suggests – that's not the case, you will be sent back to your homeland." She paused. "And you'll be hanged."

Von Bolt's mouth twitched a little. "No one has come to see me… hhhhh… until now. Why… is it you are here?"

"I need your help," Nell said, making a conscious effort to keep her voice steady.

"My help?" He laughed, a slow and hollow sound that quickly metamorphosed into a violent cough. Sucking in air with a wheeze, he eventually caught his breath and continued. "Why… would I wish to help you?"

"Fine. Don't tell me what I want to know. The next meeting you have will be with a noose."

Von Bolt's expression fell, and his dried lips parted as he mulled that over. "You want… information." He took a painful, gurgling breath. "And if I… hhhhh… tell you what I know…"

"You get to live. That's what you care about most, isn't it?" Nell was unable to keep a hint of disgust from creeping into her voice. "Do we have a deal?"

The old man didn't reply, instead staring at the table as if totally absorbed in his own thoughts. The room was quiet, the only sound his hideous breathing.

"No," he said after a time. It was the most resolute he had sounded yet. "I want something… more."

"I'm not going to give you your freedom, Von Bolt. I'm not even going to consider moving you to another facility. You're either getting small mercies or none at all."

"I do not expect any of that," he replied with a slow, drawn out chuckle. "I want… hhhhh… to play a game. Every time I answer one of your questions… you must answer one of mine. What... say you?"

Nell stared at him, hoping he could not see how bewildered she was. "Why?"

Von Bolt laughed again, more menacingly this time. "Because… I have something you want. Which means… I have power over you. I had power over all Black Hole and all Omega Land… hhhhh… until your pathetic Allied Nations took it away. Now this paltry power… is all I have, and I will savour it."

Nell hesitated, reassuring herself that this withered old man could not be dangerous, no matter how much malevolence lurked in his beady eyes. She was amazed at how utterly unrepentant he was. His twisted scheme to leech the energy from an entire continent and kill untold amounts of life all for the sake of prolonging his own existence still seemed like something out of a deranged fiction, or a nightmare. Nell was no stranger to cruelty or evil, but Von Bolt still managed to frighten her, truly frighten her down to the depths of her soul. Knowing that a human being could become such an abhorrent monster terrified her far more than she cared to admit.

"Fine," she said at last. "I'll play your little game, provided you cooperate."

His lips twitched strangely, an intermittent tremor tugging at their sagging corners. Nell suppressed a shiver as she realised that Von Bolt was trying to smile.

"How did you come to lead the Black Hole Army?" She asked.

"You… hhhhh… waste your question," he hissed.

Nell's eyes grew colder still. "Just answer."

"As you wish. I had… watched the world for many years. Waited. In strife… hhhhh… I saw potential. When the Black Hole Army was… broken… in Macro Land, I made… hhhhh… my move."

"You'll have to do better than that," she observed.

Von Bolt gave a brief cough. "Insolent woman. Will you not… allow me to finish?"

Nell raised a single eyebrow. "Go on, then."

"I followed… hhhhh… Hawke to Omega Land. I took my loyal few into the camp and… claimed what was my right."

"Hawke didn't try to stop you?"

"He was… weak." Von Bolt laughed and sucked in a further breath. "Ill at ease… hhhhh… with what he had become. He had not the strength to… lead."

Nell leant back as she considered that. The circumstances of Hawke's fall from power had always been a mystery. Of all the events that unfolded in the aftermath of the Second Great War, it was perhaps the one they understood least. Von Bolt's explanation was not particularly satisfying. The man who had murdered Sturm and callously dismissed the greatest war in decades as nothing more than a test of his own ability could hardly be described as ill at ease with himself. Then again, by all reports Hawke had been almost a different man in Omega Land. Something had happened to him in between the wars, something more than mere guilt. The tyrant who had conquered half of Green Earth would surely not have been so easily overcome by a fit of conscience. Nell was certain of that. But what then was it that had left Hawke so changed?

Nell sighed and dismissed the thought. Much as she might have liked an answer, Hawke was the one person who couldn't be behind the latest attack. She had to focus on those whose fates were still a mystery.

"Now –" Von Bolt's eyes flared – "you must answer me. How is… hhhhh… the boy?"

"The boy?" Nell queried, even though she was fairly certain who Von Bolt was referring to.

He scowled. "Jake. How is… Jake?"

"Commander Jake is no longer affiliated with the Orange Star Armed Forces. He retired in order to assist the reconstruction effort in his homeland."

Von Bolt chuckled a little at that, wrinkles of flesh obscuring his eyes. Nell took a short breath and went straight to her next question.

"What happened to Flak and Adder when you took command?"

He blinked several times, apparently confused. Nell was about to repeat the question when he sucked in a tortured breath and spoke.

"They were… superfluous."

"That wasn't the question."

Von Bolt tried to snort, only for it to mutate into a wheeze. "Very… hhhhh… well. I had no need for them. I had Kindle… remove them from command. After that, they left, and I did not… hhhhh… care where they went."

Nell wondered if he was lying. It seemed far more likely that Flak and Adder were somewhere out in the wastes, buried in a shallow grave. Perhaps by claiming to have shown some scant degree of mercy the former Black Hole leader hoped to appear more reasonable. Nell considered that idea for a moment longer before she dismissed it. Past events had made it perfectly clear that Von Bolt gave nothing that did not serve his own mad ends a moment's thought. Presumably that included Flak and Adder.

"Tell me… of Hawke's fate," Von Bolt spat, his voice dropping. "Has he joined me in this… hhhhh… infernal place?"

"Hawke is dead."

A sudden spasm rocked the old man. "Dead? He robs me… of my revenge? Bah!" Coughing briefly Von Bolt looked away, before fixing Nell with the full force of his stare. "How. How did he die?"

"He was killed in the collapse of your base, during the last battle."

Von Bolt stared at her for several seconds more, before the fire in his eyes began to dim again, and his gaze moved downward. The news of Hawke's death seemed to have stunned him, if only because it had disrupted his revenge fantasies.

"Let's move on," Nell said. "What contingency plans did you have in place in case your plot to drain the life from Omega Land failed?"

He squinted at her. "Contingency…" he began to laugh, the sound thin and painful. "My plan… hhhhh… was perfect. Why would I need another?"

"Oh, I don't know," Nell said in a dry voice. "In case things didn't go as planned? Perhaps if the Allied Nations destroyed your Black Obelisks, captured you, threw you in a cell, and charged you with more war crimes than anyone else in history?"

He snarled at her, revealing yellow and cracked teeth jutting from sickly pale gums. "It should not have… hhhhh… hhhhh… happened. Your feeble forces should not have been able to stop me. It was per–"

The outburst proved too much for him, and he collapsed into a slump, bowing his head as he spluttered and coughed. Nell watched without sympathy. Considering what horrors the man had inflicted on the world, there was very little suffering he did not deserve.

"So you had no backup plan," Nell surmised.

What little energy was left to Von Bolt seemed to have faded away, leaving him staring at the table with eyes that were dark and dead. "I would have been… a god. What god could possibly… hhhhh… fail?"

Nell could feel her hopes wane as she listened to him speak. They were dwindling fast, sinking into the marsh of unease festering in her stomach. Von Bolt was insane. She had known that walking in, but still dared to believe that his time at Thornfield might have rendered him a little more pliant. That had been foolish of her, she reflected. This rotten husk of a man was too lost in his psychotic delusions to be of any use.

"The Allied Nations," he said, his eyes still unmoving. "How do they fare?"

"Same old, same old," Nell answered, feeling a strange tingle run through her like the touch of a ghost. "We get along peacefully, something Black Hole doesn't seem capable of."

It was a lie, but one Nell felt no remorse about telling. She had no desire to give Von Bolt the satisfaction of knowing how badly the alliance was fraying. Whether or not he knew she was lying impossible to say. He gave a small grunt in response, but he did not move a muscle. Eager to move on, Nell leant forwards and clenched her hands together.

"Did you ever station any troops outside of Omega Land? In Cosmo Land, or one of the border regions, perhaps?"

"Troop deployment… was Kindle's concern," he replied in a hoarse voice. "I… hhhhh… do not know."

Nell rolled her eyes. "You were the Commander-in-Chief. Kindle did nothing you didn't approve of. Answer the question."

"No." Von Bolt paused to swallow. "I… had no need… hhhhh… to do so. No wish… to attract such attention. These questions," he whispered, his voice growing still more hoarse. "Your purpose… hhhhh… Black Hole has returned?"

She blinked. "Yes."

He let loose another horrible, wheezing laugh. "They come. My Bolt Guard… come for me."

"No, actually. It seems to be someone else." Nell allowed herself a modest smile. "The Bolt Guard have vanished. Apparently your fate doesn't concern them."

That conclusion was largely conjecture as the evidence currently stood, but in the moment that was of no concern to Nell. She had not come to Thornfield to give Von Bolt hope, false or otherwise. His pitted brow shifted in thought, but he said nothing.

"One more question," Nell said, deciding that she'd had enough of playing. "Sturm. What can you tell me about him?"

Von Bolt's eyes twitched and lolled. "That thing… is dead."

"Thing?" Nell could not suppress a scornful little laugh. "How rich, coming from you."

"Enough. I say… hhhhh… enough!" Flecks of spittle fell from his lips as he began to shake and quiver. "Begone. Bego-" He broke into another coughing fit, more intense than any that had come before.

Nell watched with dispassionate eyes. Was it anger that made him quake like this, or was it something else? The old man was difficult to read. Still, whatever emotion had provoked it, his reaction was certainly interesting. By his own admission, he had only come to take command of Black Hole well after Sturm was dead, yet the mere mention of him was enough to elicit a violent response.

Inhaling deeply as if it was the first breath she had ever taken, Nell got to her feet and slipped the recording device into her pocket. There was nothing more to be gained here. Truth be told, she was not certain that she had gained anything at all. Only an inkling. Even so, with a little luck it might turn into something more. Perhaps, just perhaps, Von Bolt had given her an important clue without even knowing it.

The door slid open at her signal. Nell had only taken a single step when a croak at her back made her pause.

"You will… hhhhh… honour our agreement," Von Bolt whispered. "You will let me… live?"

Nell closed her eyes, a fresh wave of disgust coming over her.

Then she walked away without another word.

Chapter Text

Sami stood beneath an orange sky whose fringes were permeated with violet, watching as the setting sun disappeared beneath the sea in a blaze of fire. She kept her arms crossed, clasped so tight against her compact frame that her muscles were defined like chiselled rock. For almost half an hour now she had been watching the coastline, letting the constant rhythm of the waves wash away her unwanted thoughts. The darkening light glinted off her brown eyes as Sami looked towards the horizon, studying the distant waves and clouds as if she could see some possible future beyond.

Behind her a vast array of tents, soldiers and vehicles were clustered around a military base further inland, its grounds ringed by a barbed wire fence. It was nothing more than a small border outpost, and under normal circumstances, it would have been home to little more than a hundred soldiers. Of course, the current circumstances were anything but normal. Over the past month, the dispute between Orange Star and Blue Moon had escalated from heated diplomatic exchanges and sabre rattling. Blue Moon had started moving additional units to their shared border in Cosmo Land, most likely in an attempt to intimidate them. As far as Orange Star was concerned, it was a deeply hostile act, and one that could not go unanswered. They had diverted additional troops of their own, and Sami had been at the forefront of the efforts to reinforce the defences and secure their territory.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the border, Blue Moon's increased troop deployments had been followed by large scale military exercises. Officially, they claimed the exercises were in response to Orange Star's own buildup of troops, and that they were only practising to defend themselves. It was an explanation that fooled no one. Olaf was the one making the aggressive moves. He had been first to deploy additional troops to the region, and even now, Blue Moon's armies along the border were significantly larger in size. As if that wasn't enough, it was blatantly obvious that these military exercises provided a perfect cover story for preparations to invade. It was difficult to imagine that armed conflict could break out between Orange Star and Blue Moon after they had fought against Black Hole together, but Sami knew they could not ignore the possibility. They had a duty to protect their country, and that meant preparing for the worst.

Sami shivered as the sea breeze whistled past, sending a prickle of goosebumps across her bare arms. The temperature was dropping rapidly as the daylight waned, and she was beginning to regret not bringing a jacket. Even so, Sami refused to retreat indoors. It was rare she had any quiet time to herself these days, and she did not want to relinquish the moment just yet. Besides, there were no pressing matters that demanded her attention; Sami had already dealt with all that was urgent, and most that was not. It was unlikely any new orders would come through while she watched the sunset, and if they did, her subordinates knew where to find her.

If she had expected any urgent communication, Sami would never have left the base, but there was little chance of anything like that. Ever since the stand-off along the border had begun, she had only been given one overarching order: hold your position. Apart from the flight back to the capital for the conference with the other COs, all she'd done for weeks was hold position. Nothing had happened, nothing had changed. That was not to say she had been idle. In fact, Sami's days had been downright hectic. She had been busy coordinating deployments, fortifying the border, and drawing up strategies to defend the region. Sami could focus on her duties and keep her mind occupied, but she could not shake the feeling that she was stuck. It was a sensation that had been growing ever since the Omega War ended, and she did not like it one bit.

It was not the waiting that bothered her. At least, not in and of itself. Sami could have spent weeks enduring all manner of hardship without breaking a sweat. What made her skin crawl and stomach churn was the uncertainty. Not knowing what was coming did not sit well with her, and the nagging doubt that she might not be ready to face it lurked at the edge of her consciousness like a malevolent ghost.

Sami could feel any peace and calm slipping away as her thoughts turned to the future. The moment was past. She gritted her teeth and let out a short breath, her resolve laced with frustration. No matter what happened or what sprang at her from the darkness, failure was simply not an option.

"Commander Sami!"

The greeting came from behind. A lone soldier had ventured out from the base to find her, Sami saw. Her stomach gave a slight lurch. What could this be about?

"Is there a problem, soldier?" She asked.

"There's a communique coming through from Commander Andy, ma'am."

Sami gave a small frown. "Did he say what it was about?"

"No ma'am. The signal's only just come through."

"Understood. Thank you, sergeant."

Sami pivoted about and set off up the gentle slope, sand and scrub grass crunching beneath her heavy boots. Her pace was swift but measured, and by the time she reached the command post at the southern edge of the camp, there was only the faintest tinge of red to her cheeks.

The main computer at the command post was set to standby. With a flick of her finger Sami accepted the incoming transmission and leant over the screen as it flashed to life.

"What's the situation, Andy?"

The boy in question was staring straight ahead with a vacant light in his big eyes.

"Huh? The situation?"

Sami briefly closed her eyes. Andy could be trying at times. "What's this communication about, Andy? Why do you need to talk to me? Has something happened?"

His eyebrows rose. "Oh. Oh! Sure, I get what you mean. Well, I lost my toothbrush. That happened."

"You lost your…"

Sami found herself at a complete loss for words. Complete bewilderment and considerable irritation fought to make themselves shown before she gave up and buried her face in her hands. She took a deep breath to calm herself, making no attempt to hide the nascent scowl on her lips.

"This isn't a joke, Andy! We're facing war with Blue Moon at a time when we can't afford –"

She stopped as she realised that Andy was watching her with a smirk plastered across his face. He was enjoying this.

"Relax, Sami," he said with a roll of his eyes. "I know. I'm not that dumb."

She sighed and bowed her head, feeling suddenly very tired. "What is it you actually wanted, then?"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to talk. It's boring waiting out here."

"Oh."

"So have you heard anything from Max?" He asked.

Sami shook her head. "No. Why, have you?"

"Nope, just thought I'd ask. It's not fair that he gets to blow up a Black Cannon while we sit here doing nothing."

Sami did not answer. Max's attack on the Black Hole outpost had been scheduled for that afternoon. The operation would have commenced hours ago, and by now, it was most likely already over. There was no reason to think the attack hadn't gone according to plan, and certainly no reason Max should have contacted them so soon. He knew how to handle himself. Sami was fully aware of that, but nothing could ameliorate the twinge in her gut when she thought of the Black Cannon. Everything about the current situation felt wrong; the past week had been a blur of the unexpected and the unforeseen. The past week, the last eight months – hell, make that the last five years, Sami corrected herself. Ever since Olaf had first ordered the invasion of Orange Star five years ago, it seemed like the whole world had been turned upside down, and it had never truly settled. So much remained uncertain, but there was one thing Sami was sure of, and it was that the old rules no longer applied. Anything was possible. Anything could happen next.

Something uneasy flickered in Sami's eyes, and her brow creased. "Andy, don't you think this all seems a bit odd? That Black Hole's come back right now, when we're staring down Blue Moon?"

"I don't know." Andy's head tilted to one side. "I guess. What do you mean?"

Sami was not entirely sure how to answer that question. It was only a vague feeling, difficult to describe. "I'm not sure. The timing seems awfully convenient to me."

"What, you think they're working together?" He frowned. "That can't be. The whole reason we're in this mess is because Olaf hates Black Hole so much."

"I know it doesn't make sense," Sami admitted. "It's just so frustrating that Black Hole's shown up again right when we can't spare the resources to chase them down. They wouldn't stand a chance if the Allied Nations were still working together."

"But they're not."

"Thanks for reminding me," Sami said sarcastically. She paused, and when she spoke again, her tone was serious once more. "Maybe Black Hole is just taking advantage of the situation."

"Maybe."

"It just feels wrong that all of this is happening at once." She hesitated for a second. "Doesn't this whole debacle feel wrong to you, Andy? After everything we've been through, doesn't it bother you that we might go to war with Blue Moon?"

Another shrug. "Not really. It might be kind of fun."

"Fun?" Sami glared at him. "Andy, if this situation blows up, a lot of people are going to die. Our friends – on both sides – are going to be in danger! Don't you get that?"

"Well… yeah," he said, his voice turning quiet. "But it's not like I can fix things between Orange Star and Blue Moon. All we can do is try to save as many people as we can."

"I thought you could fix anything," Sami retorted, the sudden burst of anger still gnawing at her.

Andy grinned. "Yeah, things like cars and tanks and a washing machine that one time, not people getting angry. I'm not one of those guys who makes countries get along."

"You mean a diplomat?"

"A what?" Andy's lack of comprehension was written on his face plain as day.

Sami shook her head. It was the same story time and time again. Just when she started to think that her friend might actually be wise beyond his years, he'd blurt out something incredibly stupid and ruin the moment. Andy had never shown much inclination to think before he spoke.

"Never mind," she sighed. "I should go."

"Okay." A sudden concern showed itself in Andy's eyes. "I didn't upset you, did I?"

Sami forced herself to smile. "No. If I'm upset, it's not because of you."

"Oh, cool. Bye then!"

And with that he was gone, completely at ease once again.

Sami stared into the black screen a moment longer, marvelling at how alien Andy's attitude seemed. She envied him sometimes. Not often, but sometimes. Andy could be airheaded, absent, ignorant, and about a hundred other similar things, but he could also stumble out of bed at noon, blunder into a battle he knew nothing about, and immediately craft a strategy that would have made officers three times his age jealous. It wasn't training, knowledge, or practice that made Andy a great commander. It was pure instinct. Sami had asked him many times how he came up with his tactics, but he always gave the same answer: a sheepish grin, a scratch of his head, and the explanation that 'he just did'. Sami wondered if Andy had ever really doubted himself, if he had ever worried that he might not win a battle yet to come.

She was still standing lost in thought when one of the nearby officers turned towards her, his face shot through by a look of horror.

"Commander… we're picking up signals to the south."

Sami's eyes snapped to him, all other thoughts forgotten. "What kind of signals, lieutenant?"

He swallowed. "Airborne, ma'am."

"What?"

A tremor of unease went though Sami as she digested the news. She refused to let it show; her discipline was strong, and her expression did not so much as waver. Was this an attempt by Blue Moon to probe their defences, or just another provocation?

"What direction are they heading in?" She asked.

"They're coming straight for us, ma'am."

Sami's brow creased as she crossed her arms again. "And how many signals do you read?"

"Almost fifty, all airborne. It looks like a full aerial assault, Commander."

Her surprise turned to total shock. "How is that possible?"

"I… I don't know, Commander Sami – ma'am!"

The lieutenant's eyes bulged as he said her name and just as quickly realised his gaffe. He was nervous, Sami realised, and no wonder. This was another unexpected turn of events. No, worse than that, it was something that shouldn't have even been possible. At the southern end of their shared border, Blue Moon's territory was mountainous and rough. Rural towns were few and far between throughout the region, let alone cities or airfields. They did not have the facilities in range to support a major aerial offensive across the border. Aircraft carriers were a possibility, but recent reports had confirmed that all of Blue Moon's carriers were stationed along their northern coast, where most of their naval facilities were located, or abroad. This couldn't be an intelligence mishap like with the Black Cannon, either. Every carrier Blue Moon had was accounted for, and their southwest coast was a tiny strip of land between Orange Star and Green Earth, home to only a single major port. There was simply nowhere for them to hide a full assault fleet.

So how could there be a large scale air assault coming her way?

"How long do we have until these contacts are in range?" Sami asked. She wasn't going to solve the riddle, and there was certainly no point dwelling on it.

"Five minutes. Maybe ten if we're lucky." He bowed his head. "We weren't prepared to scan for anything like this."

"I understand. Good work, lieutenant," she said, forcing a smile in an attempt to reassure him.

Working quickly Sami opened a channel to all units in range. There was no time to draw up a detailed battle plan, and even if there had been, Sami's options were limited. Her forces were not equipped to deal with an offensive of this nature. She had been assigned a modest number of anti-air assets based on the assumption Blue Moon could not launch a major air assault in the area, and they were dispersed along her section of the border. She could not hope to destroy or deter a force this large with the units she had available, and that left her with only one option.

"Listen up, everyone!" Sami shouted across the command post. "We've got a force of bogeys inbound. They'll hit us in five to ten minutes. Given our position, I'm going to assume their intent is hostile and we're about to come under attack. Now, we're not well equipped to handle an assault of this type and scale, so I'm ordering most of our troops to fall back. Our anti-air vehicles and missile units will stay behind along with some foot soldiers. Oh, and put out a call for help. We're going to need support ASAP."

"What's your plan, Commander?" Another officer asked.

"Our anti-air units will stay behind to engage the foe. We're not going to win this battle, but we need to buy time for the rest of our forces to retreat and hopefully get out of the enemy's operational range. We need to keep these planes occupied as long as we can for that to happen, so we'll need infantry too. Their job is to run interference, provide cover, and draw enemy fire away from our anti-air. Eight squads should be enough. Understood?"

"Understood, ma'am!"

The replies came as a chorus. Her orders given, Sami could only watch as the army was galvanised into action. She felt a surge of pride even as the cold anticipation of the battle to come grew stronger. Even now, caught completely unprepared, her troops reacted calmly and quickly, the emergency retreat carried out as if it had been planned. Sami might not have been able to spend as much time working with Special Forces as she would have liked, but even in an army this size, her soldiers were drilled to be the best in Orange Star. She had every confidence that the men and women under her command were up to the challenge before them, no matter how outmatched they were.

Over the ocean a cluster of vague shapes was coming into view, a jagged tear of darkness against the fiery sunset. At their current distance the planes appeared so tiny they could have passed for a far off flock of birds, completely indistinguishable as individual shapes. Sami's expression hardened further. That would change all too soon.

"ETA on the enemy air force?" She asked.

"Three minutes, ma'am."

"Get those missiles into the woods. They could use the cover." She frowned. "Do we have any details on the enemy force's composition?"

"One moment, Commander… looks like a combination of bombers and fighters."

Interesting, Sami thought. Their enemy had deployed a mixed force for ground and air attack despite the fact that she didn't have any airborne assets under her command beyond the odd light copter. They didn't know what they were up against. They might have known exactly where to find her forces and been able to launch an attack without being detected, but there were gaps in their intel. Sami's frown let up a little as she decided that the enemy seemed a little less threatening now.

Leaning forward, she activated the com. "All units, this is Commander Sami. The enemy force is comprised of fighters and bombers. Everyone, focus your fire on the enemy bombers. I repeat, focus on the bombers."

Sami looked back to the sky, where the enemy air force was drawing closer. From a shadowy cloud it split like some malignant virus into individual cells, every one a weapon of war bent on raining destruction upon Orange Star. They were close enough now for Sami to see that they were not Blue Moon aircraft like she had assumed. It wasn't the colour that gave them away. In the orange glow of the sunset blue and grey looked much alike. No, it was the strangely rounded noses and jutting, squared wings on the smaller fighters, features visibly distinct from the sharp, sleek lines of Blue Moon jets. She knew who the enemy was.

"Black Hole," someone breathed nearby.

"Black Hole," Sami agreed in a solemn voice.

Then, with a single flick of her finger she activated the com again and leant forward to speak.

"Everyone, this is Sami. Our enemy is Black Hole." She paused and felt a single heartbeat run through her like a shiver. "No mercy."

Sami's eyes roved over the beach as her troops rushed to prepare for the imminent attack, drinking in every detail. It was like she had never seen the terrain before. Just a few short minutes prior it had been nothing but a quiet seaside sunset, an idyllic scene that belonged on a postcard, or perhaps in a work of art. Now it was the staging ground for a desperate battle, and every rise and fall in the landscape, every last scrap of cover could make the difference between life and death. Sami was under no illusion that she could win the one-sided struggle that was about to take place. There would be no glorious triumph, only a frantic delaying action that just might buy the rest of her army time to safely retreat. Sami steeled herself with that knowledge. She had her objective, and she was determined to see it done.

Finally her gaze returned to the approaching air force. Sami's eyes were hard as flint as she stared down the jets as if she could turn them back with nothing but sheer force of will.

"Those missiles," she said, her voice low and terse. "Are they in position?"

"Yes ma'am."

"Right." Sami's eyes remained fixed on the enemy planes, waiting until they were well and truly in range. "Fire!"

The order was sent. A flurry of missiles shot out of the woods and lanced into the front of the aerial formation. Fireballs wracked the line of fighters and bombers as several of the planes were blasted apart or began to fall out of the sky. Sami found herself holding her breath as she waited to see how the enemy would react. She didn't dare hope that they would break off the assault after receiving no more than a bloody nose, but she fully expected them to begin evasive manoeuvres, or even pull back to regroup. Instead they did neither. Some of the jets veered slightly, but they stayed together, hurtling towards the mainland in a screaming mass. Sami noted that and adjusted her response accordingly.

"Infantry, this is Sami. Prepare to run interference. Delta and Echo squads, move west. Charlie, Bravo, get their attention and draw them into the kill zone. Vulcans, standby to engage."

Sami had barely finished giving the orders when the planes crossed the divide between land and sea, and the whole world erupted into a storm of fire and fury. All was consumed by overwhelming force and sound. The ground shook with the impact of explosive ordnance, and the air thrummed with the roar of jet engines.

"Anti-airs, go! Go!"

The anti-air units advanced from their concealed positions, cannons raised. The beach became a battlefield as Sami's troops began trading blows with the Black Hole air force. Their initial salvos brought down or badly damaged several of the enemy bombers, but it was not enough. Her anti-airs had exposed themselves to enemy fire in the process, and they lacked the cover to last long in this kind of slugfest. Sami's eyes darted back and forth from the beach to her tactical display. The bombers were surging forward, dropping their payloads indiscriminately. There was no rhyme or reason to their attacks, no pattern or strategy. Not that it mattered. The enemy force was large enough to overwhelm her rearguard with nothing but brute force.

"Commander Sami, we're picking up new contacts on an approach vector!"

Sami's stomach lurched. "Let me guess. More planes?"

"No ma'am. Ships."

"What?"

Sami marched over to see the readout for herself. There was a growing cluster of contacts at the very limit of their scanning range to the south. Sami looked to the horizon. Sure enough, she could make out a faint smear sitting atop the sea. She checked the configuration of the vessels. Landers. Suddenly the aimless aerial assault made sense. The fighters and bombers had not been sent simply to destroy anything in their path, but to provide cover for a full blown invasion force. The realisation gripped Sami like a metal vice, but it changed nothing. Even with the knowledge that a landing fleet was bearing down on her position, the air force remained the most immediate threat.

The world shook again, and the acrid stench of burning grass filled Sami's nostrils. The bombers were moving further inland, closer to her command post. Sami's heartbeat grew faster as she scanned the skies. One of the bombers was heading straight for them, and there was no time to intercept it.

"Take cover!" She yelled.

Sami sprinted towards the trees with her assault rifle in hand, desperately trying to stay aware of where the bombs were falling next. There was little she could do except keep moving and hope luck was with her as she raced for shelter. Sami heard the thunderous roar of explosions, accompanied by a wave of heat at her back. Then she was into the woods, and safe.

She came to a stop, taking a moment to catch her breath and let her eyes adjust to the shade. There was no immediate danger beneath the trees, although it was only a thin patch of woodland that stretched along the seaside. Under bright daylight, it would not even fully obscure line of sight to the other side, but in the twilight gloom, the trees and their shadows offered a sanctuary that would be difficult for enemy eyes to penetrate. Sami blinked several times until she could discern a wall of tree trunks and thick brambles looming before her, beyond which lurked several vague red shapes. Her missile trucks. She threaded her way through the woods, pushing stray branches aside with her rifle.

"Status, soldier?" Sami asked, coming up to an infantryman by the missiles.

"We've taken out several bombers, ma'am. Doesn't look like they've spotted us yet."

"Good work."

Sami opened the hatch to one of the trucks and climbed halfway inside its rear compartment. The surface to air missile units were all equipped with their own tracking systems. They would not provide the most detailed picture of the battle, but it would be more than enough to assess how the fight was unfolding. Sami leant in and noted what the display had to tell her. The coast was overrun by enemy planes. The Black Hole bombers were fewer in number now, but enough remained to finish what they had started. They appeared to be circling the coast, eliminating any resistance that remained.

With a grim expression Sami jumped out of the truck, shutting the hatch behind her. She activated her com as she walked towards the front of the missile formation.

"This is Sami. Anti-airs, report in."

There was nothing but silence in reply. Her concern growing, Sami tried again as the missile trucks loosed another deadly volley.

"Anyone with eyes on the beach, report in."

Still there was no answer. Sami scowled to herself. It was not a promising sign.

"Keep firing for as long as you can," she ordered the soldier standing by the lead truck. "I'm going to get a closer look at the beach."

He saluted and Sami kept moving, heading for the pinpricks of amber light beyond the trees. Driven from her command post she was practically blind. She needed to get a better sense of the tactical situation and issue new orders. Already she suspected that there was nothing left of her force outside the woods, but she needed confirmation. Sami was almost to the treeline when she heard the whine of a jet engine, followed a few seconds later by another great explosion and the overpowering stench of smoke. She whirled about, but could see nothing clear.

She swore as another blast rocked the woods, setting branches cracking and bathing the shadowed world in a fiery glow. The sounds of glass shattering and metal groaning rang out. Sami risked darting out beyond the trees, glancing upwards to scan the sky. What she saw filled her with dread. The offending bomber was already coming around for a second pass. If her missiles weren't already lost, they soon would be.

"Everyone out of the woods," she screamed. "Now!"

Sprinting hard she raced down the slope to the beach and threw herself into a small ditch. The wind was knocked out of her by the hard landing, but at least she was safe and out of sight. Peeking out from the ditch Sami took in a quick snapshot of the ocean. The enemy boats were drawing closer. Another fifteen minutes and they'd start landing troops. She lifted her com.

"Radar, how many bombers are left?"

There was a spark of garbled static. "Commander Sami –" the connection was interrupted by more static – "half of enemy bomber targets remaining."

Sami closed her eyes, shutting out the battle for one precious second. There was only one option left. They couldn't take out the bombers in time. Her troops had taken too many casualties already, her means of fighting the enemy planes all but gone. And without destroying the bombers, there was no way she could recall the rest of her army to try and repulse the landing fleet. She was caught in an impossible bind, and Sami knew there was no choice but to fall back. All she could do was hope they would still be able to fight off the Black Hole army after it had entrenched itself on the beach.

Sami pulled herself out of the ditch and quickly surveyed the battlefield. Black Hole's control of the area was uncontested. The scene before her was a hellish vision of smoke, spot fires and blackened craters, and there were barely any Orange Star troops left. It was over. Sami's eyes were heavy with bitterness as she raised her com. She was about to give the order when another blast high above made her duck for cover. Bewilderment flashed in her eyes at the sound. Her army no longer had any capacity to inflict that kind of damage, so what could have caused it? Sami's head snapped upwards to find out what had happened even as more and more explosions thundered out.

She couldn't help but gasp. The sky was filled with fighter jets in emerald livery, wreaking havoc amongst the unprepared Black Hole air force. For a moment Sami could only watch, stunned. Never, not in a million years, could she have anticipated the unlikely rescue, and yet somehow it seemed like the most natural thing in the world. She already knew who was behind the counterattack. Only one person could command air units like that: Eagle, the daring pilot hero of Green Earth. Sami shook her head in disbelief. She hadn't heard a word from him in almost eight months and yet here he was, soaring to her side in her hour of need. A strange feeling stirred inside of Sami as she watched the green fighters weaving through the sky, their missiles wreaking havoc amongst the enemy. Every shot landed with unerring precision, and there was no chance that Black Hole could regroup and fight back. The devastation was complete.

With the threat from the air force neutralised, Sami found her thoughts turning to a different matter entirely. Eagle was here. How, she wondered, would he explain the silence that had come between them since the end of the Omega War? They had grown so close during their time fighting alongside each other, only for circumstances outside their control to force them apart. It was a distance that had proven harder to bear than Sami cared to admit.

She scowled and dismissed the thought. Her relationship with Eagle was something to worry about later. Right now, her priority was to make sure the situation here was under control. With that in mind Sami turned and jogged back over to the command post she had abandoned earlier. Some of the equipment had been scattered by the falling bombs, but the station had avoided a direct hit, and the main consoles were still intact. Sami could only hope the one she needed was still working, but a quick check revealed that she was in luck. The scanning station was fully operational. Typing rapidly she brought up the data on the ships off the coast. A smile of pure relief broke across her face as the readout came through. The landers had stopped moving. Some of them had even begun to reverse course. Without the air force to cover its approach, the Black Hole fleet was turning back.

There was an electronic noise somewhere nearby. Instinct kicked in and Sami whirled about, rifle raised. There was no danger. She was alone. One of the computers was alerting her to an incoming transmission, that was all. Sami sighed and lowered her gun, suddenly very thankful that no one had been present to witness her threaten the communications console. It seemed she was going to hear from Eagle at last. An uneasy flutter passing through her heart, she answered the transmission.

It was not Eagle that greeted her. Sami found herself looking at a hulking giant who wore a pair of red goggles and a dark metal helmet. Her blood grew hotter at the sight. She knew the man, and he was someone she'd hoped never to meet again.

"Flak!"

A brutish leer crossed his broad jaw. "Miss me?"

The anger surging through Sami turned to white hot fury, and she felt her fists clench. "Not a bit, you – you thug!"

"Hah! You missed me."

Sami could not suppress a growl. Bile rose in her throat as she fought back the urge to terminate the connection. She didn't want to look at Flak's ugly face for another second, didn't want to give him the satisfaction of taunting her. However, she knew his involvement was the first concrete lead they'd turned up about who was behind Black Hole's resurgence, and Sami had a duty to learn everything she could. At least it was an opportunity to needle Flak, and perhaps even goad him into letting some secret slip.

Setting her distaste to one side, Sami fixed the brutish man with her most deadly glare.

"So you were behind this?" She snorted. "I should have known. Only you would forget to check for enemy fighters before sending in your air force."

Flak's leer vanished, replaced by a frustrated scowl. "That shouldn't have happened," he burst out. "We're in Orange Star! What's Green Earth even doin' here?"

Sami rolled her eyes. Flak made Andy look like a genius; his list of talents began and ended with smashing whatever lay in front of him. Perhaps it was a waste of time trying to get any information out of him, she thought. Surely no halfway competent commander would trust him to keep any sensitive secrets.

"You think this matters, stopping us here today?" He spat, his gravelly voice barely intelligible. "It doesn't. You ain't won nothing."

"Oh, you want to talk about winning?" Sami shot back. "Fine. Let's talk about your track record. Black Hole's lost three wars and counting, and I'd say you're off to another great start."

"Doesn't matter," Flak repeated, shaking his head as if to reaffirm that mantra to himself. "You got no idea what's coming. Your dumb country's gonna be history."

"That's what you said last time," she snapped. "Didn't quite work out, did it?"

"You got no idea." Flak began to laugh, a slow, drawn out chuckle that soon overstayed its welcome. "No idea at all." He smirked. "Be seein' you again, girlie. So long."

The screen went dark. Sami let out her breath and slapped the top of the console. Flak hadn't told her anything useful. She hadn't expected him to divulge anything truly important, but she had hoped for something more than empty boasting. If anything, his taunts were more irritating for their lack of wit. She stepped back and tried to relax. Anger was of no use now, but it was difficult to put it aside. Flak had made Sami furious in a way she had not been since the Second Great War, when Orange Star was ravaged by his clumsy invasion. He was a brute, incapable of executing any strategy that did not involve wanton destruction, and he was yet to face any kind of justice for the harm he had caused their country.

Sami exhaled and began to reconsider what had just happened. That Flak had been reinstated as a Black Hole commander was a clue in its own right. Someone – perhaps Adder, perhaps someone else – had chosen to bring him back into the fold. Sami could only speculate why that might be the case, but they had a face to put to Black Hole now, and that was something. Anyone remotely intelligent would have kept their mouth shut and left her to wonder who had been behind the aborted landing.

Sami nodded to herself. It was a victory. A small one perhaps, but a victory nonetheless. She looked up at the skies, filled with green planes.

And now, at least they knew they weren't alone.

Chapter Text

"It is absolutely out of the question!" Eagle exclaimed.

The statement was accompanied by a gloved fist slamming into the polished wood of the conference table before him. He let out his breath in a brief sigh afterwards, a look of mild regret coming across his face. With a sweep of his fingers Eagle flicked his orange scarf back over one shoulder, before he pulled his arms back across his chest and assumed a more composed stance.

"I'm sorry, Nell," he added, "but under the current circumstances, what you ask is too much."

At the far end of the table from Eagle stood Nell, who had kept her expression neutral as she listened to all this. Meanwhile, Sami, Andy, and Max watched from one side as the exchange between the commanders of two nations became increasingly heated.

After the brief battle along the coast, Eagle had flown directly to the capital, and the others had soon followed. Sami had hoped they would have a chance to speak privately, but it was not to be: Eagle had insisted on discussing the threat posed by Black Hole without delay. In light of recent events, everyone had assumed that Green Earth would be willing to fight alongside them without question. Knowing Eagle as well as she did, Sami had been certain he would do what was right, and it had come as an unpleasant shock to discover that he was unwilling to offer any further assistance.

"You didn't need to come to Orange Star's aid," Nell observed, her words cool and candid. "You were more than welcome to let us sink or swim on our own."

Eagle snorted and gave a dismissive wave. Throwing Nell a frosty glare for good measure, he turned and began to pace the width of the conference room.

"You're confusing the issue," he said. "Green Earth will always be the first to strike against Black Hole, and you know it. But that's one thing, and getting involved in a war that's between Orange Star and Blue Moon is another thing entirely."

"Eagle, you're being ridiculous," Sami burst out. "Just because we're asking for your help doesn't mean we want you to fight all our battles for us!"

Upon hearing the rebuke Eagle started and made as if to look at her, but then, seemingly thinking better of it, he shook his head and redirected his gaze to his boots. Sami was not sure what to make of it. He had avoided looking her in the eye ever since she arrived, and she did not know why.

"I am not prepared to take Green Earth to war with someone who is not our enemy," he continued in a more considered tone.

"We're not asking you to," Nell replied. "Orange Star is at war with Black Hole, and no one else. We're only asking that you stand with us as you have ever since Sturm's deception was revealed."

"Except that all along your border, Blue Moon is massing troops! Do you seriously expect me to believe that if they do attack, you won't want my help?"

"You gettin' blinded by your feelings for Green Earth again?" Max said. "If Olaf tries to conquer Orange Star, whose side do you wanna be on, anyway?"

Sami raised an eyebrow at Eagle following that rather blunt question, but he made sure to look only at Max.

"That is a question I shall answer when the time comes," Eagle said, his haughty tone not giving an inch. "But know that I sympathise with your position, Max."

"Yeah, right. You're just glad Jess didn't get her way and Orange Star ended up taking Lash, otherwise you'd be the ones facing war with Blue Moon."

"Are you accusing me of something?" Eagle asked, his voice soft and dangerous.

Max stretched his muscular arms and gave a bored sigh. "I'm just calling 'em like I see 'em."

"Then perhaps your eyes need examining!"

"That's enough, both of you!" The tight set of Nell's lips was a clear indication that she was not at all pleased. "Commander Eagle, I understand your feelings on this matter, but I don't think it's too much to ask for a bit more decorum. And Max… why don't you go and check in with Rachel? She's been asking for an update on the situation."

"You sure, Nell?" Max asked. "I don't mind staying."

He did not sound particularly pleased with the suggestion, which was hardly surprising. Max's instinct was always to take charge of a difficult situation so others did not have to.

"I'm sure."

Still Max did not appear convinced, but he acquiesced. In his absence the room became perhaps a little less tense. Sami kept her eyes on Eagle as he departed. She suspected that Max had gotten under his skin, but it was impossible to say for certain. Eagle had turned his back to them, staring out the window with his arms clasped behind his back and his head held high. As Sami watched the sunlight seeping through his silvery hair it occurred to her that he looked more like a ghost than a man, the swept back spikes turning ethereal where they met the light and melting into nothing. He was different to how she remembered him, but she could not decide how.

"I did not come here to be insulted," Eagle commented without turning around.

"No," Nell said. "You came here because Black Hole has returned, which puts us all in grave danger."

Eagle inclined his head to one side, but said nothing. It was impossible to say whether the gesture was meant to indicate agreement or mere thoughtfulness. He was not making these negotiations easy. Sami felt a flash of frustration. It should have been a simple matter to agree on, but the breakdown of the Allied Nations had coloured everything. Even reaching an accord to fight Black Hole was complicated by the tensions between Orange Star and Blue Moon.

"Perhaps Eagle and I should continue this discussion in private," Nell said in a quieter voice.

Andy did not look particularly enthusiastic about the idea, but with a shrug he moved to leave. Sami was about to follow his lead when a different impulse seized her, and she walked over to Nell instead.

"Let me try and talk some sense into him, ma'am," Sami said, leaning over to whisper in Nell's ear.

"Sami, is that a good idea?"

The worry in Nell's eyes burst into full bloom as spoke. It was a constant presence of late, and Sami hated it. The last thing she needed was her superior officer of all people fretting like a mother hen.

"I think I'll have better luck, ma'am," Sami said, brushing off that damn concern with a shrug she hoped appeared nonchalant. She had no desire to reveal how desperate she was to speak with Eagle.

Nell gave a single, slow nod. "Alright. I'll leave you to it, then."

With a final fleeting look of sympathy Nell left, shutting the door behind her almost without a sound, and then Sami and Eagle were alone. Cued by the door closing, he began to speak, though he still did not turn away from the window.

"I apologise, Commander Nell, if I have offended you. But I am not about to compromise –"

"Eagle."

His whole body tensed as he realised who it was in the conference room with him. For a moment Sami was afraid he was going to bolt. It was a ridiculous notion, but even from behind she could see the panic gripping his body.

"Sami," he said. Indecision hung heavy in the wake of his voice, before he let out a long, weary sigh. "It's you."

"Yes. Me." She didn't even try to restrain her irritation as she said it.

"Is anything wrong?"

The question was slow, wary even, the kind asked by a man afraid the ground would fall away from under his feet. Sami's frustration built with every word, every breath, and the slight tilt of his head in her direction – enough to show he was listening but not enough to actually see her – was the final straw.

"Something's wrong," she growled. "You're not even looking at me!"

Still there was no response. He was trying so hard not to let anything show, and it only made her wonder what he was trying to hide. Sami could imagine all kinds of reasons for Eagle's silence, but she lacked the impartiality to decide which were rational and which were not. Nothing made sense to her any more. They had gone from speaking almost every day to not communicating at all, and the abrupt change had felt like losing part of herself. It was a mess. Sami didn't know where they stood. Didn't know what Eagle was thinking, didn't know what he was feeling. Part of her wanted to go to him, to take him in her arms and let all the troubles of the outside world fall away, but she knew that she could not. Somehow the distance between them felt greater than ever, and that scared Sami in a way that nothing ever had.

Only a year ago their paths had seemed so tightly intertwined. It had begun when Sami was sent to Green Earth late in the Second Great War. There, she had joined up with Eagle's troops after he came to her aid in another daring rescue. In such close proximity it had been impossible to deny the strength of their attraction. She and Eagle were drawn to each other, pulled into each other's orbit by a force they could not explain. From that moment onwards they had worked closely together, from the late stages of the campaign in Green Earth through to the end of the war, and then as part of the allied effort to deal with the enemy forces remaining in Macro Land. By the time they were both sent to Omega Land, there had been no doubt whatsoever that what they felt for each other was love.

Sami was not much given to regret. She didn't believe in stressing over things she couldn't change, and she made a point of dealing with what was in front of her instead of fretting about what might have been. Even so, she couldn't help but wonder if she had made a terrible mistake eight months ago, during the final battle of the Omega War. What had Eagle wanted to promise her, before she cut him off? She'd told him that they could talk when it was all over, but they never had. The battle had been so long and so exhausting, and after Von Bolt was finally vanquished, everything had fallen into chaos. It had been all they could do to stay standing, let alone find a private moment. There simply hadn't been time, and then…

And then it had all been over. He'd gone back to Green Earth and she'd returned to Orange Star, and they hadn't spoken since. Before long, even the idea of reaching out to Eagle had become complicated by the complex politics and shifting alliances of a changing world. Sami felt a twinge of bitterness at the memory. It was cruel that in war they had grown so close, only to be pulled apart by the very peace they had fought so hard to win.

She realised that he was finally looking her in the eye. Eagle always had such nobility, such strength in his bearing. Even now, resigned to meeting her gaze, he was filled with pride and certainty. If he was ashamed of the way he had acted, he made sure not to show it.

At last he began to speak. "Sami, how I feel about you hasn't changed. What we had was real. More than anything I want you to know that."

Had. Past tense. Sami's stomach suddenly tightened into a knot, and she began to feel faintly sick. It was the answer she had spent so long waiting for, and the confirmation of all her fears. The worst part was how quiet and calm he sounded. Sami wanted to scream and shout until he broke and gave her something – anything – so long as it was more than this pathetic trickle. She wanted the Eagle she knew, the Eagle who had won her heart. He was a man of vitality and passion, not this withdrawn and reserved statue.

"If that's the case, you're certainly not acting like it," Sami said, every effort going towards caging the fury that threatened to consume her voice.

He did not immediately answer. Those beautiful grey eyes were looking directly at her, but they were flat and empty. Their connection was gone. In that moment Sami realised that he had pulled away from her, and it shook her to the core.

"It isn't that simple," Eagle said after a time. "Our lives are too far removed from each other. I've missed you, Sami, more than you can know, and yet…"

Sami could only stare at him, incredulous. "And yet what?"

"It's become clear to me that we have no future," he said simply.

A new sensation ran over Sami, an unpleasant tingle almost like a shiver. Everything about this was wrong. She had seen the love in Eagle's eyes, and she had felt the strength of his feeling for her. It was real, more real than any bond she had ever known, and to hear him deliver the eulogy of their relationship with such dispassion was like a dagger to her heart.

"Surely you must have realised how difficult it would be for us to ever be together?" He asked, one eyebrow slightly raised.

"That didn't seem to bother you when we were in Omega Land," Sami snapped. "Or Green Earth."

"Things were different then." He offered her a rueful little smile. "The world was different then. Orange Star's dispute with Blue Moon has reminded me that we're bound by our conflicting loyalties."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It's too complicated, Sami." Eagle shook his head and looked away. "My place is in Green Earth, and yours is in Orange Star. We're too far apart. There's more longing and emptiness than anything else, and that isn't how things are supposed to be."

Sami's lips twisted into a black scowl. "You could have told me. For crying out loud, we could have at least talked about this!"

"Talked about what?" Eagle countered. "We both know the reality of our situation." He paused. "Besides, I didn't want to tell you in an email or phone call. You deserve better than that."

"I deserve better than seven months of nothing!"

That was not a charge Eagle could deny, judging by the way he closed his eyes and winced. "Very well. I concede that you may have a point. My conduct in this was not gentlemanly. I apologise."

The way he was acting was all wrong, Sami thought again. Even in admitting his error, if only in part, Eagle was being so stiff and formal. She put a hand to her forehead and rubbed, hard. The ripple of pain across her skin was a welcome respite from the swirl of anger and confusion in her gut. Physical pain she could handle, she understood.

"Look, Eagle, you've obviously had a lot of time to think about this," Sami said, trying to rein in her emotions. "It's just that I'm still trying to catch up, okay?"

He bowed his head. "I understand."

"Do you, or are you just saying that?" She hissed, unable to stop the scowl on her lips from growing.

"Sami –"

"No!" She slammed her hands down on the table as if in mockery of his earlier outburst. "I don't want to hear any more excuses!"

"Excuses?" He took a frustrated breath. "Do you think so little of me? I have told you nothing but the truth, Sami, I give you my word!"

Eagle made to say something else before with a jerk of his head he cut himself short and settled for glowering at her. Sami felt some amount of dark satisfaction at the sight. Her words had stung him, and at least in that reaction she could see something of the man she remembered. Some part of Sami knew it was unwise to provoke Eagle further, but she was too furious with him to stop.

"What made you realise?" She snarled.

"What?" He spat, glaring at her with indignation.

Sami shoved a breath out and shook her hair back from her eyes. The messy red tufts were spilling forward, and their faint touch against her skin was infuriating. She wanted to rip her hair out and throw it at him, to taint his pristine uniform with her memory. The weight of her dog tags around her neck was nagging at her as well. The cold metal felt wrong against her skin, so calm and cool; she was hot, and angry. How could Eagle be so self-centred as to decide the fate of their relationship all by himself? Sami could only think of one answer, one explanation, and the more she thought about it the angrier she grew.

Something within her snapped, and she tore her dog tags from around her neck. With a flick of her wrist she sent them careening into the table like a fatally wounded plane falling from the sky.

Eagle flinched as they crashed into the lacquered wood, leaving nothing but a brief scratch and a metallic whimper.

"You say you've come to realise all this," Sami said, her voice strangely smooth now that she had given into her fury. "That's a lie. You didn't just realise this, something made you realise it. Someone made you realise it. Didn't they?"

He stared at her for a long moment, his grey eyes hard as stone. At last he let out a long breath with a shudder and glanced away, his eyes lingering on the fallen dog tags.

"There is someone else," he admitted.

"Who is she?"

"Does it matter?"

Sami snorted and shook her head in disbelief. She'd thought Eagle was better than this. He had his faults, certainly, but she had always believed him to be a man of great honesty and integrity. How could he have left her dangling in limbo for months when he knew there was nothing left? The explanation was obvious. He had hidden behind excuses to avoid telling her the truth, all too happy to delay the awful confrontation. It had caught Sami off guard when he hadn't even spoken to her after the battle on the coast, citing the urgent need for their top command to coordinate, but now she knew the real reason for his silence. He'd run from her like a coward.

The thought sent a fresh wave of disgust flooding through her veins.

"You won't even tell me her name," Sami muttered.

She shook her head slowly, reeling from the sheer loathing she felt when she looked at this stranger standing before her with his prideful bearing and stony composure. She could barely comprehend what was happening within her. Everything was so confused, the powerful emotions of the past tainted by the shock and the anger this new discovery had provoked. Sami almost felt as if the world was spinning, and she was so aware of her heart thudding against her chest it was unbearable. How could Eagle have done this? Worse, how could he have been so craven to not even tell her the truth?

"If I hadn't cornered you in here, would you have bothered speaking to me at all?" She demanded.

Eagle's nostrils flared and Sami knew she had struck a nerve.

"Her name is Angel," he replied, his voice flat.

"Well, I suppose I can't compete with an angel."

He ignored her, his face taut and hard. He was walling off his emotions with ruthless determination, Sami realised. He was shutting her out.

"Green Earth has been doing everything possible to prepare for a potential conflict in the future," Eagle continued, his voice completely devoid of feeling now. "Since the war in Omega Land ended, Drake, Jess and myself have each been training a new commanding officer. Angel was assigned to me."

"I've never heard it called that before," Sami retorted, no longer caring how bitter and upset she sounded.

It didn't matter. Eagle did not respond to her remark at all, fixated upon his precious control. His gaze had locked onto her dog tags where they rested on the table, and he refused to look at her.

"Angel and I spent a great deal of time together over the past few months. We became close. It threw into sharp relief that which was missing." He went quiet for a second. "You and I were in separate worlds. I needed something else, something closer. What we had, it was…" He swallowed, and could not finish the sentence. "There was no way for us to be together. It was not enough."

Sami found herself at a total loss for words. Even if the perfect reply had come to her, she wouldn't have trusted her voice to hold whilst saying it. There was a strange feeling running through her, something deeper than the shock and the anger. Every sensation was growing stronger, the pounding of her heartbeat, the uneasy rhythm of her breathing, all so unsteady as she was overcome by this shakiness. Even her eyes felt hot and weak.

With a stab of panic Sami realised that she was about to cry.

Swiftly she turned away so that Eagle would not see. She wrenched her eyes shut and crossed her arms, digging her fingernails into her arms until there was only hard, burning pain. Sami refused to cry, zeroing in on her anger and contempt instead. She had no desire to let Eagle know how badly he had wounded her, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her tears. He didn't deserve to witness those. Not any more.

Without warning Sami found herself imagining Andy and Nell standing outside the door, crouched over to listen through the keyhole. Focus on the mission, soldier. The thought brought a slight twinge of relief. It was an objective she could fixate on, and in so doing claw back some semblance of calm. Sami took a deep breath and opened her eyes, blinking until she was certain she could hold back her tears. Nell was expecting her to try and talk some sense into Eagle, and that was exactly what she'd damn well do.

"Black Hole," she said in the ramrod hard voice of a Special Forces captain, pivoting to face him again. "Will you commit to an alliance against them or not?"

Eagle blinked several times, and did not answer. This was clearly not what he had expected her to say next, Sami thought with no small pleasure.

"I… you know my concerns," he said after a time, confusion clouding his voice as he struggled to adjust to this new topic.

"I'm dismissing them," she snapped. "We'll commit to an alliance against Black Hole and only Black Hole. Call it upholding the Allied Nations Charter if you like. If Orange Star enters into a conflict with anyone else, you'll be considered a neutral party for the purposes of that war, and we'll make every effort to keep you as far away from it as we can."

There was uncertainty in Eagle's eyes as he considered that. "Blue Moon may not see things the same way."

"I don't give a damn how Blue Moon sees things!" Sami shouted. "You know as well as I do that stopping Black Hole is more important. Or was what you said about being first to strike just talk, like everything else?"

Eagle went silent. He closed his eyes and turned partly away, his face expressionless. "That is not fair."

"Isn't it?" Sami let out a small snort. "Then prove it. Besides, you owe us this."

Another long silence. "I suppose that's true."

"Then we're finished here. You can draw up the specifics with Nell."

With that the conversation was over. There was nothing more that needed to be said. Sami stormed out of the room without another word, slamming the door behind her and leaving Eagle to fade away in solitude. That was what he had wanted, she thought with another shiver. He had pushed her away, and cast her aside like she was nothing. It didn't matter how Eagle tried to justify this. There was no excuse for his cowardice, or his betrayal.

Her eyes grew hot again, and this time she could not hold back a few tears. Sami was too overwhelmed to even comprehend all she was feeling, and more than anything, she wanted to be alone. She did not want anyone to see her like this. Weak and foolish, overcome by heartbreak. Sami clenched her fists, took a deep breath, and tried to pull herself together. No matter how badly Eagle hurt her, she would not let him stop her from doing her duty. She had won a concession from him that an alliance was necessary. Next was to report that success to Nell.

What came after that, Sami did not know. All she knew was that whatever her future held, Eagle would not be the one to walk beside her.

Chapter Text

Max stood like a statue amidst the bustle of the hospital ward, looking more forlorn than he had in years. He was lost again. He could not remember which of the painted arrows he was supposed to follow, and did not even know if he was in the right ward. All around him doctors in lab coats and nurses in coloured scrubs passed to either side of his massive frame like water flowing around a rock in the stream. It was a strange sensation to be at once so closely surrounded by the world and to feel so far removed from it; claustrophobic and disorientating. The simple act of focusing on what he was doing had become a challenge, and Max found he felt too out of place to stop someone and ask for directions. He blinked and screwed his eyes shut, forcing out the fluorescent lights and giving himself time to think.

It was all so familiar. The hospital, the lights, the concern for a friend. Max had felt this particular kind of confusion before, sending ripples of disquiet through his gut, although the last time he experienced the sensation, it had not been because he was lost. Not in a physical sense, at least. Nothing had made sense back then, in the days immediately after the accident. Max had barely known what was happening, let alone understood why. He had been trapped on the outside, left to scrabble around in the dark like a bumbling oaf, and by the time he'd realised the truth, it had been far too late to change anything. 

Max winced and forced his eyes open, away from the memories and back to his purpose. Those days and their mistakes were a long time past. A great deal had changed since then, and this was not the same. Feeling firm and grounded in that knowledge Max began to move forwards again. People continued to part around him as he walked, stepping out of the way of this giant man who towered above them. Eventually he came to a nurses' station and put a hand on the counter.

"Hey, anyone home?" He called out.

Several nurses turned their heads towards him. One stopped what she was doing, glanced upwards at his bright blue hair with a sniff, and indulged him with a false smile.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for Commander Rachel," Max explained.

That only won him a disapproving frown. "Visiting hours ended thirty six minutes ago."

Max offered her his most serious expression and pulled out his official ID. "Military business, miss."

The nurse blinked in surprise, but that damn frown refused to budge. "I'll have to clear this with the doctor," she muttered, picking up a phone.

Max smiled to himself and straightened up, leaving the nurse to a short conversation that left her looking more and more disgruntled. It was amazing how many doors you could open with just those two words. Military business. Being a CO in the Orange Star Army had its perks. The pleasure of watching people who wanted to tell you to shove it accommodate your every whim never failed to brighten Max's day.

His smile only widened as the nurse put down the phone and turned back to him.

"So what's the verdict?"

"Go ahead," the nurse answered in the most sour voice Max had ever heard. "Room 412. Down the hall and around the corner. It's the second door on the right."

"Thanks," Max said, trying not to break into a full blown grin as he started down the hall. Following the nurse's directions, he was able to find found the room without any difficulty. The door was already open, and he did not hesitate to enter.

"Surprise!" He exclaimed as he stepped inside.

"Max," Rachel blurted out, turning to face him with a start.

The greeting had been nothing more than an idle joke, but it was obvious to Max that his arrival had actually taken her somewhat by surprise. He reassured himself that he hadn't woken her; Rachel's eyes had already been open when he walked in the door.

Max lifted a chair and moved it over to the bedside, taking the opportunity to study Rachel more closely as he did. She was propped upright in her hospital bed by a tower of pillows, and her leg was elevated and wrapped in heavy plaster. She looked strange lying there without her baggy clothes and cap. Max found himself oddly aware of her small shoulders and pale forehead, things he had never really noticed before. She was almost a different person, thinner and more subdued in a way that he could not quite reconcile with his mental image of Rachel. Still, the smile she gave him as he sat down beside her was not much different to the one he was used to, and her clear blue eyes with their long lashes were perfect as ever.

"It's good to see you," Max offered when she did not speak further. Up close, he realised that she had changed after all. There was a certain weariness about her that Max did not recognise, a dull shadow lurking within those bright eyes.

"Yeah, you too," Rachel replied, running a hand through her messy hair.

"How bad's the leg?" He asked with a nod towards her cast. "Are they gonna have to cut it off or...?"

Another bad joke. The slight curl of Rachel's lip was more exasperated than amused, and even that much effort seemed to tire her. Max felt a pang of regret, and that swirling mess of confusion threatened to rise again. Perhaps it was better if he didn't try to lift her spirits.

"So what's been happening with Black Hole since we found that cannon?" Rachel asked. "No one's told me anything since I've been in here. They just keep telling me to rest."

Max shrugged. "Well, I took care of those goons by the beach. Routed them and destroyed the cannon. After that, there was another incident with Black Hole. Sami was down by the south end of the Blue Moon border when a bunch of fighters and bombers came outta nowhere. She'd have been in big trouble if Green Earth hadn't shown up. Eagle was in the area, and when he caught wind of what was going down he came to lend a hand."

"So now Green Earth's involved," Rachel said. "Good. It's good to know we're not alone. Have you guys figured out who might be behind all this?"

"Well, after Eagle and Sami stopped the attack, the enemy CO made contact."

Rachel's eyes lit up with desperate intensity at that. "Who was it?"

"It was Flak. Still don't have a clue who he's workin' for, 'cause you know that ape doesn't have the brains to plan anything like this himself, but it's something."

"But we're no closer to understanding what's really going on." Her delicate brow furrowed. "We really don't know anything more about what Black Hole's doing?"

"Nope. We know they're out there, and we know they're up to something, but that's about it."

Rachel bowed her head. "It's not good enough. We have to get to the truth, Max. We have to. If this keeps happening..."

"Hey," Max cut her off. "We're doing everything we can. We'll figure it out."

"I just hope it isn't too late."

Another burst of unease stirred in Max's gut. What was he supposed to say to that? They were all struggling with the same fears, whether they admitted it or not. The attack on Sami's forces had confirmed what they'd already suspected: the appearance of the Black Cannon on the coast was not an isolated incident, but part of something much bigger. Perhaps even the start of another Great War. Orange Star had pulled through the recent conflicts in good shape compared to other countries, but they couldn't keep fighting endless wars against an enemy that never seemed to tire. Sooner or later something had to give.

Max took a breath to steady himself. There was no point dwelling on their problems, at least not here, and not now. What Rachel needed was comfort and reassurance. Max forced himself to pay attention to their surroundings, looking over the hospital room as a way of refocusing his thoughts. Rachel had been given a corner room with two walls of solid windows. The bright vista outside was a beautiful expanse of buildings old and new, grey steel and weathered brick living side by side in perfect harmony. The hospital overlooked a university, its slow accumulation of architecture dotted with spots of green foliage. Max smiled. Nell had probably pulled a few strings to get her sister the best room possible. It was exactly the kind of thing Orange Star's Commander-in-Chief would do; Nell never failed to look out for everyone who served under her.

"It's a nice view," Rachel said in a distant voice, her eyes staring straight into the sunlight. Max could not help but think she looked sad as she said it.

"I don't like hospitals much myself," he offered, more because he felt like he needed to say something to break the uncomfortable silence than because it was something he actually wanted to volunteer. "But hey, at least you've got something to look at, to keep you from getting bored."

"I guess," Rachel said with a faintly visible shrug. "I just…" A strange sort of frustration came over her and she stopped. "It's not that I'm bored. I just don't like being stuck here, not being able to do anything."

"Hm." Max scratched his chin. "Yeah, you've been going at it pretty hard since the Omega War wrapped up."

"We all have. There's just been so much to do."

"Tell me about it. I'm still waiting for my bratwurst tasting tour in Green Earth." Max smiled a little, but it soon faded. "I thought you'd at least rest up a bit after we got that mess sorted, but you just kinda kept going. You after your sister's job or something?"

At least that made Rachel laugh, although not nearly as much as he would have liked. Max wasn't an expert in psychology by any means, but he was perceptive enough to recognise that she was struggling with something. He just hoped that when the time came for her to give voice to her feelings – if it came – he would be able to say the right thing. Nell had always said he was clumsy, and it was true in more ways than one. Sometimes, he didn't think, even when he needed to most. That was when his crude attempts to comfort people tended to go completely awry, and he wound up feeling like a fool.

Clumsy. Sometimes Max thought that was just another word for stupid.

"I like to keep busy," Rachel said at last, a guarded tone coming into her voice. "You know that."

"Yeah, but you knew when to take a break before."

A faint tremble seemed to run through her like the first sign of an earthquake. "I just… don't want to have to think about things. It's easier if I'm distracted."

"About things? You mean everything that happened in Omega Land?"

"Yeah, about everything. About everyone. It's hard, going from seeing people every single day to never seeing them at all."

"You talking 'bout Jake?"

She flinched when he said the name. "Yeah. So…" She took a sharp breath, and for a moment Max thought she was going to burst into tears. "You knew?"

He shrugged, suddenly unable to look her in the eye. "Well, uh, sure. I mean, I could kinda see the way you looked at him sometimes."

"I was stupid," Rachel said softly. "I didn't even realise how I felt until he wasn't there any more."

"You ever think about telling him that?"

She shook her head, more like a shudder than any voluntary motion. "Why? He didn't like me. He likes Sasha."

Max had no counter for that point. He was blunt and direct by nature, and never had much knack for deciphering the subtler signs of human behaviour, but even he had noticed that there was something different about the way Jake and Sasha spoke to each other. They were just a little more shy, a little more gentle than they were with anyone else. In truth, Max would probably have missed the signs if not for the fact he'd seen them before - and only belatedly realised what they meant. He'd been completely oblivious at the time, but at least now he could recognise what was right before his eyes.

"It's stupid," Rachel continued. "Pointless. I should just forget about it and move on."

"Not that easy though, is it?" Max said. "You still miss him. Just because he likes someone else doesn't mean you stop feeling what you feel."

She screwed her eyes up tight in an attempt to hold back the tears that were threatening to flood. "I just didn't think he'd leave, not after everything we'd been through together. I thought we were closer than that. I didn't - I didn't think he'd leave me all alone."

"It wasn't about you." Max sighed. "He was always different. You and me, we wanted to fight, to stand up for what was right no matter what. Jake didn't make that choice, he only did it 'cause he had to. He fought to protect his home, and when that was done he was done." He offered her a forced grin. "Hey, it's not like he went over to Blue Moon with Sasha. Sometimes there's just nothing you can do."

"I keep thinking that if there was something I had done differently, if there was just some way I had been better, then maybe…"

"Things would be different?"

"Yeah." There was a tear on her cheek now.

"You can't blame yourself," Max said, his eyes downcast. "You can't change how someone feels if they don't love you. It's not your fault, it's nothin' you did wrong, it's just how it is."

"Then what do you do?" Rachel pleaded, more tears painting silvery streaks over her flushed skin.

"You accept it, and you move on."

Rachel did not say anything more. She just settled back and let herself cry. Max could not recall ever seeing her so distraught, and he had certainly never seen her cry before. As he sat there watching, it occurred to him that Rachel never really showed anything of herself that wasn't vibrant and happy. With a slight rush of surprise Max wondered at himself for not spotting that earlier. What else did she keep hidden away?

Eventually Rachel wiped her tears away and laughed at herself, a sad and shaken little giggle.

"Thanks," she said, her eyes lighter than they had been in months. "That feels a little better."

"It'll get easier. Might take a while, but it will."

She looked directly at him, her eyes wide and her lips parted a little as if something had shocked her. "Max, are you speaking from experience?"

"Wha-" He cut himself off.

There was a flush in his cheeks and Max knew that he had turned scarlet. For a moment he considered trying to play it cool and deny the suggestion, but the impulse vanished as soon as it came. His body had already answered the question without even meaning to, and now there was nothing left to do but own up to the truth.

"You figured that out, huh?"

"The way you talk…" Rachel shrugged and smiled a little. "It just sounds like something you've been through."

Max grunted. "Guess I was never much good at keeping things secret. That went real well, back when I was in your shoes. I'm pretty sure everyone could read me like a book."

With a small groan Rachel managed to lean a little closer to him. "Hey, you know, if you want to talk about it… maybe it'll help."

"Not much to talk about," Max said, looking away. "It was a long time ago. No point digging up the past."

"You sure? I could use the distraction." Suddenly she grinned at him, the first trace Max had seen of the old exuberant Rachel since he'd arrived. "And I'm the one who's stuck here in a hospital bed, so maybe you should just indulge me!"

Max hadn't intended on saying anything at all, but it was so good to see some of Rachel's high spirits return that he couldn't help but give in. "Alright, but I don't think I ever told anyone about this before, so I mightn't be much good at it."

"I'm not expecting poetry," Rachel said wryly. "Just be yourself."

"Ha, yeah. Got it." Max sucked in a giant breath and scratched at the back of his head, surprised at how foolish he felt. "Well, actually, it was over your sister."

"Really?" Rachel was suddenly laughing like a lunatic, the tears rolling from her eyes those of pure mirth now. "You like my Sis?"

Max blanched, wondering just what it was that had compelled him to volunteer his deepest secret. "Man, I knew I shouldn't have said anything."

Rachel's expression softened as he spoke, and she made sure to offer him a sympathetic smile. "It's okay. I mean, I understand. Nell's smart and beautiful and lucky – however that works. I can see how you might fall in love with her. I don't think I'll ever be half as amazing as she is."

"It was a long time ago," Max repeated, clasping his big hands together and staring at them as if they were made of gold. "Before we even knew Black Hole existed. Seems like another life, another world, after all the stuff that's gone down."

"But sometimes…" Rachel sighed. "Sometimes even time doesn't completely heal the pain."

He grunted again. "Yeah, and I guess… I guess I still look around and see how everything that happened back then made us end up here. Even though it was ages ago, it's still around, if that makes any sense." Max paused to roll his eyes at himself. "I sound nuts."

"No," Rachel said, reaching out and putting her hand on his. "You don't."

Max looked at her hand holding his and followed the line of her slender arm up to the comforting smile on her lips and warmth flowing from her red eyes. Finding the words to express how he felt was a struggle, but somehow, Rachel's support made it a little easier. He took another breath and resolved to tell her the rest. She deserved to hear it after coming this far.

"So you know about me and your sister, but the other guy…" Max closed his eyes and swallowed. "It was Grit. The three of us were close back then. Real close – he was my best friend. But then we both felt the same way about Nell, and it ended up driving us apart."

"But Grit's a Blue Moon CO," Rachel said, giving him a bewildered look. "How were the three of you close back when the two countries were at war?"

Max breathed slowly in, surprise spreading across his broad face. "You didn't know that Grit's from Orange Star?"

Rachel stared at him for a few moments. "No, I didn't."

"Not even with the accent?"

"I just thought he was weird."

"Well then you don't know why he left," Max surmised. "Though you can probably make a guess by now."

"You don't mean that he defected because he was in love with my sister," Rachel said, her voice filled with disbelief.

Max glanced away. "I dunno. He'll give a different answer every time you ask. I was too angry to even see it for a long time, but now it seems like the only thing that makes sense. That's the thing with Grit. He acts all aloof and laid back like he doesn't care 'bout anything, but underneath it all he's got a bigger heart than anyone else I know. I think he knew how I felt and so… he left."

"I'm sorry," Rachel said in a soft voice. "And my sister… she liked Grit, and he left… I can't believe she never told me anything about this. Why wouldn't she tell me?"

Max got to his feet, stretching his muscles and flexing his arms. "That's something you'd have to ask her. Besides, I don't know for sure that she did like Grit. I only know she didn't feel that way 'bout me."

"Right." Rachel bowed her head a little, a chastised look coming over her.

Max couldn't help but wonder if he had been too abrupt and defensive. The reflex to push the feelings away, to avoid dwelling on the questions that had caused him so much pain for so long, was too strong. He'd just reacted without a second thought. By the time he knew what he was saying and how it might come across, the words had already come spilling out, and it was far too late to change them. Clumsy. No wonder Nell liked Grit more than him.

"Well, I'd better get going. Gotta head back out again."

"No rest for the wicked, huh?"

"Nope," Max said, his voice low and conflicted. He couldn't look Rachel in the eye as he hurried over to the door, unable to bear the thought that he had hurt her somehow.

"Max, wait!" Her eyes were full of pleading and remorse as they found him on the brink of departing. "I'm sorry if I hurt you. I didn't mean to."

"Hurt me?" Max echoed, confused. "You didn't. Not at all. It's just hard for me to talk about all this." He offered up an apologetic look. "Guess I'm not as over everything as I thought."

She beamed a smile of pure relief. "Okay."

"You just relax," he said, one hand on the door frame. "You're gonna need your strength soon."

She closed her eyes and settled back into the cloud of pillows at her back. "Thank you," she said, her voice dreamy and quiet as she began to drift asleep.

"Anytime," Max murmured as he slipped out into the hall. "Anytime."

Chapter Text

"Andy, can I ask you something?"

Andy's attention had been fixed on a file sitting on the table before him, but it immediately shifted at the sound of Sami's voice. His dark hair was splayed in all directions as usual, and as his head whipped around the tufts shook like a tumbleweed in the breeze. He looked across the office to where Sami was standing by the window with her arms crossed, glaring at the building opposite as if it had done something to offend her.

The two of them had been working together at headquarters since the meeting with Eagle three days ago. Their hours had been spent analysing every scrap of information they knew about Black Hole in the hopes of finding something they had missed, something that might help them to understand the strange events that were unfolding. Thus far they had met with little success. It would have been an unremarkable assignment, but for the fact that Sami had spent the entire time in a particularly nasty mood.

"Are you upset?" Andy asked, tilting his head to one side. "You look a little upset."

Sami turned to fix him with her fierce glare. "I wanted to ask you a question, not the other way around. Is that okay or not?"

Andy winced. Sami's temper was not something he enjoyed running afoul of. Half the time Andy didn't even know what he'd done to make her start snarling at him, and he'd never entirely grown used to it.

Even though he'd known Sami for years and counted her as one of his closest friends, she was a mystery to him more often than not. One moment she could be the very picture of etiquette, but in the next her calm could give way to a fury that scorched all in its path. It wasn't just because she was a girl, because other girls like Nell and Sonja never acted that way, but Andy could think of no other explanation for Sami's behaviour. He had even tried asking Max about it a few times, but his advice on the subject was simple: keep your head down and your mouth shut.

Max didn't like to think too deeply about things, but Andy was just the opposite. Mysteries and unknowns set his imagination racing with possibilities. The fact that his explanations usually turned out to be completely and utterly wrong did not discourage him at all.

"Andy!" Sami clicked her fingers together right before his eyes, and he realised she had walked over to face him. "Anyone home?"

"What?" Andy shook his head like a dog shaking off water. "Oh, sorry, I must have zoned out."

"Great," Sami muttered sarcastically. "Now I'm not even worthy of your attention."

She gave a snort and strode back over to the window, where she crossed her arms and made a point of turning her back to him.

Andy's lips parted in a silent okay. "See, this is why I was asking if something was up, because there's gotta be a reason you're this mad."

"You don't have a clue what you're talking about, Andy," Sami growled, but she sounded more tired than angry.

"Only because you won't tell me."

"It's personal."

Andy shrugged. "If you can't talk to your friends about what's bothering you, then what's the point in having friends?"

"Maybe a friend should know when to back off!" Sami retorted, her voice growing to a shout. She slammed her hands against the glass and bowed her head, her olive green headband dangling limp and still down her neck.

Andy wasn't about to argue. He wasn't always the best at taking a hint, but that had been about as subtle as a falling boulder. He looked back to the file. Andy had only made it through half a page of the report, but in that moment he decided that wading through the tedious analysis was far more appealing than trying to get a straight answer out of Sami.

He blew upwards so his breath ruffled his hair and focused on the first line. The regeneration of plant life in Omega Land was proceeding at rates of more than forty percent. Andy wasn't sure if that was fast or not. These reports never seemed to say what was good and what was bad, they just stated a series of facts in the most confusing way possible. Like here, where the report said that desertification of Omega Land had reached even to Brown Nebula territory in the north. Andy frowned. Geography wasn't his strong suit, but even he knew that most of Brown Nebula was a desert, separated from Cosmo Land by the southern sea and situated just north of tropical Omega Land. How could anyone even tell if a desert was turning into another desert?

"Why do we need to know about Omega Land and desert fiction anyway?" Andy wondered aloud. "Black Hole's here in Orange Star now, and the Omega War's over. The land's healing."

"Desertification," Sami corrected absently, her hands still pressed hard against the window. She let out her breath in a short puff and turned away from the view. "We need to figure out where Black Hole's based and where they're getting their resources from, and Omega Land is the only lead we've got. It's where they were active during the last war and it's where they're most likely to have some existing infrastructure to work with."

"Right… but Omega Land's really big. Where would we even start?"

"I don't know," Sami admitted, coming and sitting down at the table at last. All emotion seemed to have faded from her face, drained away with nothing to replace it. "Probably in the northwest. Rachel's group combed everywhere else pretty thoroughly, and we were headed that way when it all ended. It would make sense if the Bolt Guard escaped in that direction."

"That way…" Andy pulled a map out from inside the file and checked which direction Sami meant. "Wait, that would take them towards Brown Nebula, and Cosmo Land!"

"We don't know that they're based in that area," Sami said, shaking her head as she stared at the map. "The Bolt Guard don't seem to be behind this, and Flak could have been anywhere for the past year. We just don't have enough information."

"Both attacks were on the south coast," Andy pointed out. "And if you go south from Orange Star, that's where you end up."

"Okay, but even if Black Hole is active in the region, there's still the question of how they got troops from Brown Nebula to Orange Star."

Andy raised his hand as if he were in school. "Um, maybe they used boats?"

"It's true that Flak's air force was escorting a landing fleet, so we can assume that Black Hole possesses significant naval capability…" Sami paused, thinking. "I wonder if they could make it across the sea without resupplying. Black Hole vehicles usually have a greater operational range than ours, but even so, it's a long way to travel."

"There are a bunch of islands between Cosmo Land and Brown Nebula," Andy observed, still looking at the map. "Couldn't Black Hole have a base on one of them?"

"I suppose it's possible." Sami slid the map over to her side of the table and studied it for a moment. "Most of these islands are independent, but a few are Yellow Comet territories. I'd be surprised if they hadn't noticed a full invasion force. I just don't see how a fleet could make it through the archipelago –" Sami's finger began to trace a path from the northern edge of the continent - "all the way over the southern sea, through Green Earth's waters, and on to Orange Star without being detected. Do you?"

"Um, no." Andy stared at the map for a moment before his whole face lit up. "Maybe they have some sort of invisibility device!"

"Andy…"

"Okay, maybe not actual invisibility, but something like our stealth fighters use?"

Sami shook her head. "Hiding a plane at high altitude is one thing, and hiding an entire fleet is something else entirely. It wouldn't work."

"Black Hole has laser cannons and death rays and giant slime things. Why not invisible boats?"

"Because they weren't invisible!" Sami exclaimed. "We could see them coming when they attacked. There was nothing out of the ordinary about those landers."

"Maybe they weren't using it then?"

"Why not? If you have a tactical advantage over the enemy then it's stupid not to make the most of it!" Sami stopped and thought about what she had just said. "On the other hand, this is Flak we're talking about, so stupid isn't out of the question…"

She fell silent, her eyes tracing patterns and movements over the map.

"Do you think we should talk to Eagle?" Andy asked. "He had to follow those ships to come and rescue you. He could have seen where they came from."

"He did not rescue me," Sami snapped. "I could have pulled things together."

Andy pursed his lips and looked away, wondering again what on earth was wrong with Sami. Maybe something had happened with Eagle during the battle and she was upset about it. But what could it possibly have been? Andy had no idea what Eagle could say to make her this angry; Eagle was the only person Andy knew who could make Sami blush like a schoolgirl. Still, annoyed as she was, Sami hadn't said anything about his actual idea to consult their Green Earth counterpart. Maybe she didn't think it was stupid after all. But then why was she ignoring it? There was more to this, Andy was certain; he was missing something, but he couldn't quite put his finger on what.

Sami shoved her chair back from the table and shot to her feet, crossing her arms once more. Why was she being so defensive? Andy hadn't even said anything to provoke her that time.

"If you want to talk to Eagle, be my guest," she said, marching back to the window and resuming her vigil.

"Don't you want to talk to him? I thought you liked Eagle."

"Don't you remember what I just said about you asking me questions?" She snarled back. "Just go and ask him what Green Earth knows about Black Hole's troop movements. It's a good idea. We're not going to pick up much with our intelligence assets all watching Blue Moon, but the other nations might. In fact, I might try to get in touch with Sonja. Yellow Comet's got the best spy network around, and I'm sure she's been keeping an eye on this mess."

It was all wrong. Sonja was the other person with a talent for triggering Sami's temper, although in her case, Andy got the sense it was usually deliberate.

"So you want me to talk to Eagle while you talk to Sonja," he said, observing how tense Sami's posture and expression were.

"Isn't that what I just said?"

"Yes, but…" It occurred to Andy that every time he tried to point out how odd her behaviour was, Sami grew even more irritable. "That's what you just said."

"Good," Sami growled. "Then go."

Andy was fully prepared to obey the order, but before he could so much as stand up there came a quiet knock on the office door. He sighed in relief as Nell's tall figure appeared in the doorway, purple suit immaculate as always.

"How are things going in here?" Nell asked as she stepped into the room. "Have you made any progress?"

Andy shrugged. "Not really. We're trying to figure out where those ships came from and where Black Hole's based, but there's not much to go on."

"I see." Nell came over to the table and glanced over the patchwork spread of maps and files. "What are you thinking?"

Andy glanced at Sami, wondering if she was going to jump in anytime soon, but she said nothing. She just stood rigid as though she were carved from stone. He frowned. Sami was much better at explaining these sorts of things than he was, and she knew it. Usually Nell's presence was enough to make her act politely, if not quite nicely, but today their superior's presence seemed to make no difference at all. A note of concern flickered in Andy's dark eyes. Perhaps things were worse than he had thought.

"Andy?" Nell pressed. "Sami?"

"Uh…" Andy blinked. "We thought maybe Black Hole's fleet came from Brown Nebula. Both attacks came from the south, and it's close to Omega Land, where they were last time. But I don't get how any country could just let Black Hole through."

"I imagine most wouldn't, but Brown Nebula…" Nell sighed. "The country's been in a state of chaos for over thirty years. There's no government and little law, only squabbling warlords fighting over every scrap of land. I doubt any of them would have the power to stand up to Black Hole, if they even cared to try."

"But why is the country that way?" Andy asked, puzzled.

"Succinctly put? The Cataclysm." Nell glanced away. "Brown Nebula used to be one of the world's great powers, but by the time the war was over, the country was almost completely devastated. It never really recovered."

"The Cataclysm?" Andy was still lost. "What's that?"

A sudden snort from the window made both Andy and Nell start. Sami had turned around and was shaking her head in complete disbelief.

"Andy, how can you not know about the greatest war in history? It's required study during officer training, for crying out loud!"

Andy's cheeks turned bright red. "I think maybe I slept through that class."

"Oh, Andy." Nell shook her head. "Why I am not surprised? Well, suffice it to say that the Cataclysm was a war on a scale unlike any other. Not even the Second Great War comes close. It raged for seven years and involved most of the countries on the planet."

Andy swallowed. He could barely imagine a conflict larger than the second war, larger than the colossal battles involving the armies of five nations. He'd known there had been other wars before Black Hole, of course. Everyone knew about the long conflict between Orange Star and Blue Moon, waxing and waning over the years. There had always been smaller conflicts, border disputes, and so on, all around the world. That was nothing new, but the idea of something much bigger was unsettling.

Unbidden Andy remembered how Sensei had regaled them all with tales about the battles of old, recounting the challenges he had overcome to give the allied forces courage before finally facing Sturm. At the time it hadn't even occurred to him that those battles had a context all their own, but now it seemed so obvious Andy couldn't believe he had never wondered what it was. Looking back at the memories felt strange, as though in an instant the whole world had changed.

He let out his breath in a short puff, putting the past out of his mind. Nell's thoughts looked to have moved on as well; the Commander-in-Chief was studying the world map that was folded out atop the desk, her eyes fixed on the large spread of brown south of Cosmo Land.

"So," she murmured, "Brown Nebula."

"It's only a guess, ma'am," Sami said, her voice tense and quiet.

At that Nell met Sami's eyes and offered her a reassuring smile. "It's a sensible guess, which is as good a lead as any. There's another point of evidence in its favour, too."

"What do you mean?" Andy asked.

"Brown Nebula would have made an ideal staging point for Sturm's forces to enter Cosmo Land and attack Green Earth in the first war. It's possible there's some deeper involvement there that we're unaware of."

Sami gave a strange movement, somewhere between a shrug and a shudder. It seemed to be the most enthusiasm she could muster. If nothing else, the twist of her lips made it clear she did not think much of mere guesswork.

"Is there anything else?" Nell asked.

Andy looked once more to Sami for guidance, but she had turned back to the window. "Well, we were going to talk to Eagle and Sonja and see if they know anything about Black Hole's movements."

Nell nodded. "That's a good plan. I'll leave you to it, then."

As she left, Andy looked towards the window where Sami was only a dark silhouette against the glow from outside. Coming to a decision, he stretched his arms and got to his feet.

"Well, I'm going now," he said aloud.

Sami did not answer. She gave no sign that she had even heard. There was no point trying to talk to her about anything, Andy was forced to admit, not right now. He was worried about his friend, but he also knew full well that there was probably nothing he could do to help her. Sami could be so distant sometimes. Right now there was only one problem he could actually do something about. It was a sensible conclusion, but it didn't make Andy feel any better as he headed out of the office, shutting the door behind him without a sound.

Andy found he was still preoccupied by Sami's black mood as he walked down the hall, wide eyes roaming about. He passed several other offices, checking each one through its glass walls to see who was inside. Someone had told him which office number Eagle had been assigned, but Andy hadn't been paying much attention and couldn't remember which one it was. He hoped it wasn't on another floor.

After five minutes of wandering around without success, Andy eventually found the right office on the far corner of the building. He entered without bothering to knock.

"Hey, got a minute?"

Eagle's gaze flicked upwards from his computer for only a second. "This is not a good time, Andy."

Andy had barely seen Eagle since the disastrous conference three days ago. Even after they had come to a loose accord, the Green Earth CO had shown no inclination whatsoever to socialise, preferring to focus on his duties. That wasn't unusual in and of itself; Andy had fought alongside Eagle often enough to grow used to the man's haughty nature. While the ace pilot could be charming when he wished, most of the time he seemed to think it wasn't worth the bother.

No, what was unusual was how miserable Eagle had been. Usually he went out of his way to put on a show of strength and superiority, but ever since he arrived in the capital he had been dark and brooding. On the few occasions Andy had seen him taking a break from his work, the man stalked the halls of headquarters like he was haunting the place. Even now, when he was working alone, Eagle's brow was pinched and his shoulders were hunched as if he did not want to be seen.

"Huh?" Andy took no notice of the attempted dismissal. "Why, are you talking to your girlfriend?"

A violent grimace consumed Eagle, and he looked away with a sharp intake of breath. Andy couldn't help but smirk. Eagle's casual barbs had stung him often enough, and he felt no small satisfaction at provoking such a response.

"Don't worry," Andy continued, adopting a friendlier smile. "I won't be long. I just want to know what you know about where those Black Hole ships came from." He gave a conspiratorial wink. "Or were they invisible?"

The glare Eagle gave him in return could have frozen water. "Andy, have you recently suffered some sort of aneurysm, or were you simply dropped on your head too many times as a child?"

"I'm serious! Sami and I wanted to figure out where Black Hole's boats were coming from and we thought maybe you'd know. You followed them, didn't you?"

Eagle stood up and jabbed a finger at the computer. "Ask Drake. I have work to do."

Andy could only stare in amazement as as Eagle strode into an adjacent office without giving him so much as another glance. Eagle could be rude sometimes, but this was on another level entirely. Andy was so surprised by his behaviour that it took a moment for his words to sink in, and he still had not moved when Eagle slammed the door shut with a bang.

Something had to have happened to make Eagle and Sami both so upset, he decided, something big. But what?

It was only then Andy remembered what Eagle had said before leaving. The question of what was wrong with his friends flew from his mind as he raced around to the other side of the desk and assumed a position in front of the monitor., Sure enough, Eagle had been in a video conference with a portly man in a naval captain's uniform, a man Andy knew well.

"Captain Drake!"

The round faced man on the screen beamed back at him. "Well, if it isn't Orange Star's young swabbie! Keeping busy, lad?"

"You bet!"

"Aye, that's grand."

Andy grinned. He liked Drake. Green Earth's famed naval commander was one of the few people who never teased him. In fact, Drake never said a mean word about anyone; he was the warmest, kindest person imaginable. They were traits that Andy had come to appreciate more than most.

"Well then," Drake's expression grew marginally more serious, "what can I do for you this fine morning?"

"Do you know anything about where the troops that attacked Sami came from?"

"Now there's a question for you!" Drake's smile, already fading, now disappeared entirely. "Unfortunately, I'm not sure how much help I can be. First we knew about them was when one of our patrol boats picked up their signal as they left our waters, heading north towards Orange Star. We didn't even know who they were. That mystery made a few waves around here, so I dropped Eagle a line and suggested he take a closer look at things. The rest of the story you know."

"Oh…"

"Don't lose hope, lad." Drake made sure to smile again. "There's always another way. Even if we don't know where those ships came from, we might be able to piece together where they weren't."

"Okay." Andy had no idea what Drake was getting at. "And how will that help?"

"Well, we've got a point of reference from when we first detected those ships, and we know their top speed from the previous wars. So, if we look through all our patrols and imaging data that found nothing amiss, I expect we can rule out a few possibilities regarding the route they sailed. See?"

"I get it now. Kind of like playing hide and seek."

Drake laughed. "I suppose you could think of it like that. I'll tell you what, I'll get right on it and send Orange Star a report as soon as I'm able. That sound good?"

"Sounds great! Thanks, Drake."

"Don't mention it." Something strange flickered in Drake's brown eyes, something Andy had never seen in him before. "We've got to stick together through these rough seas, or else we'll all drown."

That made Andy pause. "So… you think there's going to be another war?"

"Ah, it's hard to say. It certainly feels like there's something brewing, though. Can't you sense it?" Drake frowned, but did not otherwise wait for a response. "There's strife and division between the great powers like there hasn't been in years. We're all scrambling about just trying to stay afloat and understand what's happening, but every answer we find yields two more questions. It feels like – well, it feels to me like we're all dancing to someone else's tune."

"What do you mean?"

"I wish I knew, Andy. I wish I knew." Drake took a breath and exhaled in a great puff. "Listen to me rambling on when there's work to be done! I'd best get started on tracking those ships."

"And then what?" Andy asked.

The question had been almost involuntary, spilling out of him before he even realised what he was saying. It took Drake by surprise as well; his eyes widened a little and he put a hand to his round chin, taking a moment to consider his reply.

Part of Andy was almost afraid of the answer. They'd been trying and trying to search for clues, and found none. What if they couldn't find any? What if trying to track down Black Hole's ships turned out to be another dead end? It was so frustrating trying to fight back when they were completely in the dark. They had no idea what was going on, not really. Andy was determined to stop Black Hole no matter what, but that did not mean he was completely ignorant of the fact he might not succeed.

As Andy watched, the pensive shadow that had come over Drake fell away, replaced by a weary acceptance. "The way I see it," he said at last, "whatever we learn, or don't learn, we'll prepare for the storms ahead as best we're able. Until something changes, there's not much else to be done."

Andy sighed. "I guess you're right."

"I know doing nothing isn't always easy, Andy, but sometimes the only thing you can do is wait and see what tomorrow brings." He paused. "I've got to go. Bye now, lad."

With one last smile, Drake pressed a button and ended the call.

Even though the video channel had cut to black, Andy was lost in thought and did not move. Drake was right, he decided. Sometimes there was nothing you could do except wait for things to change. Whether that was discovering new information about Black Hole, or Sami reaching a point where she was willing to talk, it didn't matter. For the time being, his problems were out of his hands.

Andy got to his feet and yawned. Wait and see, he told himself. Perhaps tomorrow would bring something new after all.

Chapter Text

Stakeout.

That was the mission Rachel found herself on that late autumn evening, shivering as the weakening warmth of the sun began to disappear. She was crouched down in the underbrush near the top of a hill with a pair of binoculars in hand, keeping watch over what lay below. If she directed her gaze towards the valley below, Rachel could clearly discern the crumbling ruins of a rural town, little more than a jumble of sagging walls and collapsed roofing, and all of it dusted by the golden hues of sunset.

Rachel was not alone in her vigil. Deployed around her were half a dozen units of soldiers, spread out in a loose ring around their target. Further back, a multitude of vehicles in orange livery – mostly cars, tanks and transports – waited out of sight. It was a small force, truth be told, but one that was sufficient for her purpose. They were there primarily as observers. Rachel was itching to strike back against Black Hole, but she was keenly aware that she could only engage the enemy under favourable conditions. If the enemy was even there, that was.

A cramp ran through her arm and Rachel winced, setting the binoculars aside for a moment. She had been waiting in the underbrush for hours, hardly moving at all, and it was beginning to take its toll. Leaves and branches rustled as she shifted her weight, scraping against her legs and ankles. For the first time Rachel was grateful for the cast and bandages still wrapped around her right foot. It would have taken more than a few scratching twigs to get through the thick plaster.

Rachel had been out of the hospital for a week and back in the field for almost as long. She could barely walk without crutches, and by all rights shouldn't have been on duty, but the simple truth was that Orange Star needed her. There had been several sightings of strange troops and ships to the south since Flak's assault had been thwarted, and so she and Max had headed out to patrol and investigate while Andy and Sami returned to their positions on the Blue Moon border. Eagle meanwhile had withdrawn his troops and pulled back to his support fleet while their two governments wrangled over the terms of their alliance in these changing times. At least the presence of his independent battalion off the coast might deter Black Hole a little, Rachel thought.

Small comforts like that were all they had to cling to. They knew there was enemy activity all along the southern coast, but pinpointing their locations or finding out what they sought to achieve had so far proven difficult. While the mysterious nature of this new threat remained no less of a concern, at least there was one silver lining: there had been no further attacks on Orange Star. While Rachel didn't dare hope that a few localised defeats were enough to put an end to whatever Black Hole was plotting, the enemy did seem to have pulled back. But then what was their goal? There was no seeming reason to any of it, and it was maddening.

Rachel had grown used to puzzling out the motives of an inscrutable foe in Omega Land, but she could find no logic behind any of this. She could only guess that someone – she had no idea who – had sought to take advantage of the unrest between Orange Star and Blue Moon. Maybe their unknown enemy had thought they'd be able to establish a foothold without being noticed, or that Orange Star would be incapable of mounting a quick response under the current circumstances. But to what end? Once the enemy was on their soil it was only a matter of time before they were found and destroyed. It didn't make sense.

Unless, of course, these were just the opening moves in a much greater play.

It was a conclusion Rachel kept coming back to. Worse, it was the only one she could think of that made any sense at all. It wasn't impossible that Black Hole could be expending whatever resources they had left in a wasteful act of petty vengeance, but neither did it seem likely. They had always acted with something to gain in the past. It made far more sense that this new threat, whatever it was, was part of something bigger than they knew, that there was a reason for all of it – one that they couldn't yet see.

That thought alone was troubling enough, but it was not the only thing on Rachel's mind as she kept up her watch on the ruined town. Only that morning Blue Moon had formally withdrawn from the Allied Nations, decrying the organisation as corrupt and ineffective. The announcement had been paired with a demand that the Turtle Islands in the northwest be returned to their control, citing cultural and historic reasons. It was an outrageous request. The islands had been part of Orange Star for forty years. Making things worse was the fact that considerable oil reserves had been discovered off the coast of the islands only eighteen months earlier, giving them great economic potential in addition to their strategic value. Officially, the President was taking some time to consider the demand, but they all knew he would refuse. And when he did, it would give Blue Moon a pretext for war.

Rachel closed her eyes and wondered at the sadness flowing through her. She had fought alongside Colin, Sasha and Grit in the worst conflict she could possibly imagine. They had laughed together, drank together, had shared hopes and fears alike. Their two countries had bled to stop an evil drawn straight out of a nightmare, as had Green Earth and Yellow Comet. None of it seemed real to her, that the people she respected – that she considered her friends – might soon be her enemies, staring back at her from the other side of a battlefield.

She took a short, sharp breath to steady herself and opened her eyes again, focusing her attention on the derelict buildings below. The town was a remnant of a battle fought long ago. A surprise attack by Blue Moon forces had devastated the sheltered little community, back when the two countries were engaged in one of their many conflicts. It had never been rebuilt, and now all that was left were the collapsing remnants of blasted houses and patches of weeds that had split open some few abandoned roads. To the south scrub bushes and thin trees grew over a strange series of undulating hollows, the legacy of a bombing run. To the west, a large warehouse made of rusted, flaking iron and rotting wood loomed over the sombre scene. Once the warehouse had been a storage facility for a shipping company, used to hold goods as they made their way inland. Now it was nothing, only an ugly scar from a battle long forgotten.

Rachel's eyes narrowed as they lingered on the warehouse. If her hunch was right, the building might be far more than it seemed.

Her com device gave a sudden chirp, the sound echoing through the eerie quiet of the falling night. Rachel's eyes never left the warehouse as she slipped it from her pocket and put it to her ear.

"This is Rachel," she said in a soft voice, her heart skipping a beat as she wondered what news would come.

"It's me," Max's voice burst through. "Just thought I'd check in."

"Max," Rachel breathed a sigh of relief. "You checked in two hours ago."

"Yeah, and now I'm checking in again. Seen anything yet?"

"Nope, not yet. But if I was hiding out here I'd wait for the cover of night. If we're going to see something it'll be once it gets dark, which should be –" she glanced at a small computer set up beside her to check the time – "very soon."

"Well, just be careful. If Black Hole is using that old town as a base, they could have a whole squad of Neotanks hidden away there and we'd never even know." There was a short pause. "Man, now I sound like Nell."

Rachel laughed a little. "Don't worry, it sounds much tougher when you say it."

"You're just sayin' that to make me feel better, aren't you?"

She smiled to herself. "Guilty."

"Cripes," Max snorted. "When did I get so damn responsible?"

"Maybe working with me is rubbing off on you."

Another amused snort. "Yeah, maybe. Anyway, that's all I had to say, so I guess I'll talk to you later. Max out."

Rachel grinned to herself as she returned to her watch over the town. Max had been like this ever since she returned to active duty. It was kind of cute just how overprotective he could be. It was also kind of ridiculous, considering that she had been his commanding officer for months on end in Omega Land. Not that he had ever really treated her as anything other than an equal. Max's regard for protocol was lax at best.

A second chirp issued forth from her com. Rachel shook her head in disbelief as she reached again to answer it. So much for her silent, stealthy stakeout. Well, as silent and stealthy as anything involving three dozen soldiers, their associated transports and Humvees, multiple tank squads, and artillery support could be.

"This is Rachel."

"It's only me," Nell's voice said.

Rachel rolled her eyes skyward. Ever since she had been discharged from the hospital Nell had been calling her at regular intervals, even though she felt fine. Being the only person in the Orange Star Armed Forces whose superior officer was also her big sister could be trying sometimes; between Nell and Max she'd more than had her fill of people fretting over her. Rachel was just grateful that Sami, who she'd met late in the Omega War and had only a professional relationship with, and Andy, who she still knew more from Max's stories than anything else, had shown no such tendencies.

"Hey, Sis. What's up?"

"I just wanted to ask you about something."

Rachel noted how distant her sister sounded and felt a twinge of unease. Nell's questions were rarely reassuring these days. Still, at least the first thing out of her sister's mouth had been something other than a waterfall of well-meaning concern.

"Well…" Rachel set her binoculars down and looked away from the warehouse. "I guess I've got a moment to spare. Shoot."

"Hawke and Lash spent a lot of time with your group in Omega Land, didn't they?"

"They were with us for a while, yeah. But they didn't exactly open up much. They mostly kept to themselves."

"I had a feeling you were going to say something like that," Nell remarked, and Rachel could practically hear her sister's knowing smile. "Did either of them ever talk about their past?"

Rachel couldn't help but chuckle at the idea. "Are you kidding? Those two didn't volunteer anything. I think the only reason we got any information out of them at all was because we kept running into things only they could explain. Usually things that were trying to kill us."

"Try to think. Did either Hawke or Lash ever say anything about the events of the Second Great War? It's important."

Rachel thought back over every encounter, every meeting. She remembered Hawke's face, stolid and unyielding as he dictated the fate of a continent. Lash had been his complete opposite, always brimming with energy as her devious gaze played over them all like pieces on a chessboard. Rachel could see them all like they were right there on the hillside with her. Colin and Sasha, eyes bright and full of hope, and Jake, so driven and so determined to save his homeland. She felt a strange shiver and shut her eyes tight.

"No, nothing," Rachel said, forcing her voice to hold steady. "Like I said, they really just kept to themselves."

"I see."

Nell sounded more tired than disappointed, Rachel thought. Her own conflicted feelings were forgotten as she wondered what exactly her sister was trying to investigate. Perhaps there was some other way she could help. It certainly sounded like Nell could use a break.

"What's this all about, Sis?"

"Oh, I'm just trying to solve a riddle."

"You're… what?" It was not an answer Rachel would have expected. "What kind of riddle?"

"Simple. Why fear a dead man?" Nell replied.

Rachel blinked. "Do I want to know what that's supposed to mean?"

Her sister laughed a little. "Whatever we're dealing with now seems to have been set in motion before Von Bolt took command. I suspect even before Hawke's retreat from Macro Land. My interview with Von Bolt touched on the subject, but when I brought up Sturm's name, he shut down completely. He seemed almost… afraid. Hence the riddle – why fear a dead man?"

"I don't know," Rachel said. It was a strange question, even by recent standards.

"Neither do I. But I've started to wonder – what if Von Bolt suspected his dominion over Black Hole wasn't total? What if he believed that Sturm had created some kind of reserve force during the Second Great War, one that was unaccounted for, and still loyal to him even after his death?"

"And that force is this new Black Hole Army we're dealing with now," Rachel finished.

"Exactly. I was hoping you might remember something that would shed some insight on whether or not the theory is plausible. It was a long shot, I'll admit."

Rachel thought about that for a moment. "You know Sis, there might be a solution staring you in the face here. Why don't you talk to Lash?"

Nell's sigh burst from the com in a soft rush of static. "The thought did occur to me. We knew she was holding back during her debriefing, although I can't imagine she'd be any more cooperative now. Not after everything that's happened."

"You never know," Rachel said in a quiet voice.

"True, but Lash is… dangerous, and worse, she's intensely clever. I'm wary of giving her a chance to get inside my head. If it becomes necessary I'll try to reason with her, but I don't think we're there quite yet."

Rachel went quiet again, flashing back to the aftermath of the Omega War. I guess I do care a little bit. That was what Lash had said as they stood amidst the rubble of Von Bolt's base. Rachel had never seen the girl as vulnerable as she'd been in that moment, immediately after Hawke's death. Lash had been so shaken and unsure that for perhaps the first time she'd let down her guard and shown something real. At the time Rachel had been so certain that the worst was past. Standing there with Jake and Max, that terrible conflict over at last, it had seemed like things could only get better.

How the hell had they ended up here?

Staring ahead into the valley she could almost forget that the last six months had ever happened, her eyes filled with the faraway memories. It was well and truly dark now, and the world was made of shadows and ink. All except-

Rachel whistled under her breath. There, inside the town, was a faint yellow light. It was little more than a speck of warm gold holding fast against the gloom, but it was there.

"Sis, I have to go. We've got something."

"In the old town?" Nell's voice rose. "I see. Well, do be careful. Nell out."

Rachel shook her head again as her sister terminated the link. She'd led an entire war effort on behalf of the Allied Nations and still Nell felt she had to tell her to be careful. Some things never changed.

Lifting the binoculars again she peered at the light more closely. Even from a distance she could see it was shaped like a square, and coming from a window in a house near the town's outskirts. Rachel frowned. It seemed odd that light was coming from a small, nondescript house rather than the warehouse, or some other more important building. It didn't feel right. Still, she had to follow the clues as they presented themselves.

"Alright, Beta team, move in and get a look at that house," she decided. "Be careful. We don't know what's in there. Gamma, Delta, follow their lead and watch the town's perimeter."

"Orders acknowledged, commander. Moving out now."

Her heartbeat rising, Rachel watched as three squads of infantry began to make their way down the slope. Night had fallen so quickly that she could barely see them at all now. It was unsettling to think that fifteen soldiers were nothing more than a faint shimmer in the gloom, and worse to think of what might be waiting for them below. Rachel was barely even blinking as they approached the house.

"Beta, report," she said.

"We're approaching the property from the rear," the squad leader answered. "The back gate is open, and we're heading into the yard."

"Any sign of activity inside?" Rachel asked.

"Not that we can-"

He never finished the sentence. A flash of intense light seared through the valley, followed a split second later by a colossal boom. Rachel stared at the explosion, dumbfounded. Her ears were ringing and she could barely see at all, the afterimage of the light still burned into her vision.

"What the hell?" She blurted out. "Beta, report! Report, please!"

Silence. Nothing at all, save for the ringing in her ears. Rachel shut her eyes, the flare of the explosion still flashing before her. She took a precious second to collect her thoughts and decide on a course of action.

"All units, this is Rachel. Standby. I repeat, standby. Do not move." She turned to the lieutenant beside her. "What just happened? Did we register anything?"

He shook his head. "No ma'am. Nothing at all before the explosion."

Rachel pursed her lips. "Okay, do we have any records of this town being mined? Or old ordnance in the area?"

"No ma'am. There's nothing like that on record."

Rachel swore. If it wasn't an old bomb they'd run into, that meant someone had been placing explosives in the area very recently, and under the circumstances, it seemed obvious who. Her hunch about the town was almost certainly correct, Rachel knew, though it gave her little satisfaction now. She raised her com to issue new orders.

"Listen up, everyone. That bomb was probably put there by Black Hole, so until I say otherwise, this town is an active combat zone. Be ready for anything. We don't know who or what's down there or how many more traps are waiting for us." She paused. "Gamma team, sweep by that house and check for survivors, but keep your distance. Delta, watch their back. Recon One, move in behind them and provide cover. Understood?"

All units replied in the affirmative. Rachel typed a few commands into her computer and studied the topographical display of the area, her units displayed on the map as small dots and icons. Any routes out of the town were well covered by her tanks; the problem was what might be hiding in the dilapidated old buildings.

A sudden burst of gunfire rang out from below.

"Gamma, report!"

"We've been hit down here! Black Hole grunts, they've set up a crossfire–"

There was a burst of static amid another layer of gunfire. Rachel scowled. It seemed the enemy was well prepared for any incursion into the town.

"Gamma, there's a mostly intact brick ruin just north of your position," she said over the com. "You'll have to make a break for it: it's your best bet for cover. Delta squad, join up with them there."

More gunfire echoed through the night. Rachel didn't know if her beleaguered soldiers had received the orders, or if they were even still alive. The seconds that followed were long as she waited for any sign of life. None came. There was no reply at all. Rachel was about to issue new orders when on the tactical display Gamma squad began to move at last, heading for the ruin. A short distance behind them was Delta, moving steadily closer and ready to engage any pursuers. Rachel glanced up through her binoculars as her infantry converged on the brick ruin, hoping to get a glimpse of the enemy's movements.

She was just in time to witness a second flash of light, followed by another roaring explosion like the first.

Cold shock flooded Rachel's body. The enemy had known how she would respond, she realised. They had lured her into a fight and made sure that the most promising cover was another trap. She swore again, more colourfully this time. Someone was toying with her, and the men and women under her command were paying the price.

"Anyone on the ground, report!"

A garbled layer of distorted sound came through, then cleared. "– Delta leader –" For a moment the signal dropped again. "– heavy casualties, can't hold out –"

With that, the signal cut off completely.

The dread pounding through Rachel's veins grew a little louder as she considered the situation. Now, she had to either send in more troops to relieve her infantry, or leave them to die. It wouldn't have been a choice at all, but for the fact every instinct in Rachel's body was screaming at her that doing so would trigger another trap.

"Recon One, your status? Do you have eyes on Delta?" She asked.

"Affirmative, Commander. They've taken three casualties and are sheltering behind a fence. We're laying down suppressing fire, but there are too many of them. Counterattacks have inflicted light damage. What are your orders?"

The obvious course of action was to commit her armoured cars and tanks to clear out the enemy troops, but after the course the night had taken, Rachel was sure that would only get her stuck in a losing battle. She needed to break the pattern, but she wasn't yet willing to abandon the survivors, either. Thinking rapidly she came up with a plan that might just let her do both. Taking a deep breath to steel her nerves, she turned to the lieutenant.

"Send word to our artillery that I want a targeting pattern laid in to bombard the south half of town. Don't fire until I give the order."

He looked at her warily. "Our men are still down there, ma'am."

"I know." Rachel looked away and activated her com. "First and second tank groups, move in immediately. Fire on the enemy infantry, but be ready to disengage. When I give the word, I want you out of there faster than I can blink!"

She paused, tracking the icons on the map as her tanks began to move.

"Recon One, listen up. On my mark you're going to rush Delta's position, pick them up along with any survivors from the other squads, and then get out. Pull back to coordinates 24, 29 alongside our tanks."

"Acknowledged, Commander."

Rachel stared at the tactical display with perfect focus, tracking the movement of her units. Her tanks were halfway down the hill now. Time to make her move.

"Mark!" She said clearly.

At the base of the incline, tanks and recons raced towards the town's edge. The deep burst of the tank mounted guns reverberated through the night, drowning out the sound of the enemy fire. Rachel watched as Recon One came to a stop on the display, carrying out their orders. Her heart skipped a beat. Her troops were committed to the fight now, and if her instincts were accurate, then any moment now –

"Incoming!" The panicked shout burst over the com. "Md tanks incoming!"

"Where the hell did they come from?"

Right on cue. Rachel allowed herself a grim smile as her units began to move again, heading away from the town at full speed. There was only the faint rumble of engine noise echoing through the cool night air – no explosions, no gunfire, and certainly no cannon blasts. They'd done it.

"Recon One, are you under pursuit?"

"No, Commander. They're still inside the town."

Rachel's smile widened. "Understood. Good work, everyone." She glanced sideways. "Signal our artillery to open fire."

The lieutenant gave a single nod and issued the order. A few seconds later, the distinctive, heavy crack of artillery cannons launching their deadly payloads reached her ears. Rachel lifted the binoculars and looked towards the town. She did not have to wait long. Explosions thundered out, mingling with the steady beat of cannon fire in a strange sort of destructive symphony. By the bright flashes of the artillery blasts Rachel could see old houses being blown apart, could see the enemy's medium tanks moving awkwardly as they tried to take cover. There was none to find. The second volley impacted directly on their position, and even by the warm glow of burning spot fires Rachel could clearly see three of the hulking vehicles reduced to charred shells.

"Keep firing on that area," she ordered. "I'm not taking any chances. Everyone, pull back to our starting perimeter and observe the town. If anyone tries to make a run for it, shoot them."

With difficulty Rachel pulled herself into a more upright position and began to massage her right leg. Her injury hadn't hurt for days now, but her mobility was restricted enough that staying prone for too long made her whole leg ache. She kept an eye on the computer as she did, scanning the reports as they came in. The Md tanks were confirmed destroyed, as were some IFVs and a squad of anti-air vehicles that had been lurking further in. An APC and several tank groups sheltering in the ruins were caught and obliterated. Three Black Hole infantry squads had made a break for it and run straight into a volley of gunfire. Rachel sent the order for her artillery to cease fire. Most of the town was reduced to rubble; there was nowhere left for Black Hole to hide.

Nowhere except the warehouse.

Rachel shook her head as it occurred to her that everything had come full circle. It had been the abandoned warehouse that first aroused her suspicions, three days earlier when she and Max had been studying the region. They had been looking for anywhere the enemy could have been moving troops through southern Orange Star, and the old warehouse had been at the top of the list. Rachel couldn't imagine a more perfect base for covert operations – not only was it isolated and forgotten, it was big enough to store a variety of equipment and supplies, or even serve as a makeshift barracks. Originally, the plan had been to capture the warehouse and any secrets it housed, but Rachel knew now that was far too risky. Considering what had happened so far that evening, Max was probably right about the Neotanks.

Rachel could only see one sensible course of action: level the whole building with artillery fire, along with anything inside. If they were lucky, sifting through the debris might still yield some clues about Black Hole's movements. With that in mind she turned to face the lieutenant.

"Tell our artillery to lay in a new firing pattern. When I give the order, I want that warehouse blown to bits."

The officer hesitated, staring at her. "Ma'am… we've got an incoming transmission."

"From Nell or Max?" Rachel asked.

He shook his head. "It's not an Orange Star signal, ma'am."

"I see," she said, unable to keep a startled look from coming over her. "Put it through to me."

Rachel made sure to gather all her strength in the brief moment it took for the officer to transfer the signal, bracing herself for what was about to come. She was half expecting to confront Flak, and the thought made her blood run hot with fury. Rachel hadn't fought in the Second Great War, but she'd been keenly aware of the damage Flak had done to their country. To Orange Star he was the enemy, even more so than Sturm in some ways. Flak was the one who had come into their homeland and tried to steal it, and when that had failed, like a brutish child he had settled for doing all he could to break it.

Rachel glowered as the signal was put through, suddenly unsure if she could control herself in the event Flak made contact. She need not have worried. As the com link came online, Rachel faced a man who could not have been more different from Flak. He was thin, gaunt, and deathly pale, with sunken eyes that gleamed with malevolent intent. Rachel recognised the man from his file.

Adder.

"Well, well," he spat, "what have we here? The lesser sister of Orange Star's dear Commander-in-Chief."

Rachel glared at him. "Lesser sister? Excuse me?"

"I suppose you're feeling rather clever, aren't you?" Adder continued, a bitter little grimace overcoming his lips. "Don't. You were lucky tonight, nothing more."

"Like my greater sister always says, luck is a skill!" Rachel shot back, growing angrier with this snide snake of a man by the second. "Who are you to talk, anyway? Black Hole doesn't have the best track record. You lost hard the last few wars hard."

"And yet here we are, stronger than ever." Adder flashed her a vicious little grin. "All little minds like yours can see are these paltry victories, when it's the big picture that really matters. You're incapable of grasping the true genius of Black Hole."

"Hey, you stuck-up wretch! Just what is that supposed to mean?"

"Soon the whole world will be painted black." He let out a short laugh. "Perhaps I'll do you the honour of making you my personal slave."

"Slave?" Rachel repeated, her voice rising to a shout. "You're delusional, you sick creep! I'd die before I let you lay a finger on me!"

Adder's expression fell. Quickly he recovered his composure, hissing at her like a snake. Ridiculous, Rachel thought. There had been a time, not too long ago, when she had believed that no one could possibly possess such strange affectations. That was before she had met Javier, though at least the Green Earth Commander had a heart of steel-clad gold.

"Watch your temper, foolish girl," Adder snarled. "I like my underlings to show proper respect."

Rachel stared at the purple haired man's image on the computer, almost apoplectic. Adder was perfectly serious, she realised. This wasn't some kind of twisted joke; he meant every word. Rachel could only shake her head, mute, as she struggled to comprehend how anyone could be at once so vile, and at the same time so petty.

Adder seemed to take her silence as proof he'd won the exchange, judging by the nasty smile that flitted over his face.

"Tell me, do you actually believe that messy hair of yours is flattering?" He gave another short laugh. "Or are you just too stupid to master a comb?"

Rachel's eyes bulged, and she could not keep herself from putting a hand to her strawberry blonde hair. It's not that messy, she told herself. Or was it? Jake had always said her look was cute. Military chic, he'd called it. Shaking her head she pushed the doubt away and fixed all her fury on Adder.

"What is it with you pasty faced Black Hole freaks and insulting people's looks?" She burst out. "Have you looked in a freaking mirror lately? You're not winning any beauty contests, creep!"

Adder didn't reply. He simply laughed at her outburst, apparently satisfied with provoking her. Something inside of Rachel snapped in that moment, and she decided that she wasn't going to waste any more time trading barbs with this wretched excuse of a man. She glanced to the lieutenant.

"Signal our artillery." She looked back at Adder. "Fire."

Rachel severed the com link. Adder's pale face vanished, but not before she saw him struck by a flash of uncertainty. The sight brought her no small degree of satisfaction.

As the sound of artillery fire resumed, Rachel looked up from the computer, craning her neck to stretch her aching muscles. Her blood still ran hot from her exchange with Adder, but it was starting to cool, and with that came the growing unease that perhaps his boasting hadn't been entirely empty. He'd claimed it was the big picture that mattered rather than the small victories, and just a little earlier, Rachel herself had been thinking that the only way Black Hole's actions made sense was if they were part of something much bigger. There was more to this, that much was clear.

The first shells impacted the warehouse. Explosions reverberated throughout the night, and the building began to crumble. A moment later there came a bright flash as another of Black Hole's traps was triggered. Rachel shut her eyes tight, listening as the mighty roar of the blast drowned out the artillery bombardment. Another of the detonations followed, then a third. Rachel signalled her troops to cease fire, and then there was silence.

She opened her eyes and looked through her binoculars to see that the warehouse was simply gone. In its place was a field of blackened debris marked by burning spot fires. It was over. All that was left now was for a forensic team to scour the town, and for Rachel to report what had happened to Nell. If nothing else, Adder's involvement was another clue to add to their growing collection.

As she reflected upon the events of the night, Rachel found herself unsure what to make of them. She couldn't shake the feeling that Adder had let slip more than he'd meant to when boasting about the bigger picture. Still, that did not change what had happened tonight: paltry or otherwise, she had won a victory, despite what it had cost. Rachel was fully aware they were on the defensive, responding to the enemy's movements rather than taking the initiative. There was no denying that, but for the time being, they had few alternatives. Whatever larger design Black Hole was pursuing remained unclear, and until they had more information, there was simply nothing they could do but face each battle as it came.

Rachel looked up at the sky. The smoke rising from the town had shrouded the night sky in a dirty haze, but it was beginning to dissipate, and high above, she could see a single star holding strong against the dark. Rachel felt her resolve grow as she looked up at the heavens. She doubted it was the intended effect, but Adder's taunts had only made her more motivated to see their enemy defeated. One way or another, they would get to the bottom of this mystery, and put an end to Black Hole.

Once and for all.

Chapter Text

Blue Moon's Commander Grit stood alone before an open fire, one lanky arm resting on the mantelpiece and the other keeping his long brown overcoat away from the flames. His heavy lidded eyes were half closed, which was hardly unusual. Most of the time Grit affected a languid and carefree bearing. Some might even go so far as to dismiss him as lazy, but today he seemed almost like a different man. His posture was tense, like a spring wound tight and ready to snap, and his sharp gaze was restless with doubt. The fire was warm, but it brought no comfort. Not today.

Times were changing in Blue Moon.

Grit waited in a long, draughty dining room in the Frost Palace, where the military kept its headquarters. Decades ago the grand building had been the residence of the country's royal family. In those long gone days the dining hall might once have been the centrepiece of a magnificent banquet, or hosted a lavish party. Today, however, it was only an empty room whose opulent decor did little to disguise the impersonal coldness of the marble table standing at its centre. The great arched window at the end of the hall was open, and the air to Grit's back was chill. It was another reminder of the inexorable turn of the seasons.

That was Blue Moon for you, Grit reflected. It was a country of contradictions: lively and stoic, compassionate and unyielding, hot and cold. Sometimes he thought that the country felt more like home than anywhere else, while at others he felt like an outsider who could never truly understand it.

A creaking noise announced that someone else had entered the room. Why no one ever bothered to oil the door's tired hinges was a mystery to Grit, one he wondered about anew as he glanced over his shoulder to identify the new arrival.

She was a petite woman with neat black curls, dressed in plain blue military fatigues with special insignia at the collar. The only other sign of her station was an ornate duelling sabre sheathed at her belt. The woman's grey eyes glittered with wicked sharpness as they met Grit's gaze and held it like a scientist observing an experiment. It was not long before the corner of her lip curled in an amused smirk, apparently satisfied with what she had found.

"Commander Grit," she said with a nod of greeting.

"Yer Highness," he answered in a gruff voice.

The nickname was not kindly meant. The woman reminded Grit of an ice sculpture he had once seen, carved to resemble a princess out of some fairy tale. What inspired the nickname was the expression the sculpture had worn. Grit could still remember the statue's upturned nose and contemptuous lips, a vision of pure disdain. Whenever Ana looked at him, Grit saw only the same incredible arrogance and chill contempt he had felt emanating from the ice princess.

She moved around the table and seated herself next to the head. "You are not sitting?"

Her stare was inscrutable, her iron gaze laced with mistrust. Grit closed his eyes and turned away. Some things, at least, never changed.

"Ain't much call to be parkin' myself yet."

"As you wish."

With that the conversation was finished.

Grit's relationship with the intelligence agencies of Blue Moon – military and civilian alike – had always been uneasy. Even after years of mild social progress under General Olaf's leadership, paranoia and suspicion were still strongly ingrained in those who walked the halls of power. Truth remained malleable when it suited the state's purposes, and Grit's tendency to speak his mind and call out lies had made him as many enemies as friends.

Ana, the head of military intelligence, was very much one of the former. She had been watching him since the day he arrived in Blue Moon, always suspicious of his loyalties no matter how many battles he won. Thus far, his impressive record and his reputation as an honest and reliable man had kept him safe from any political reprisal, but of late Grit had begun to wonder how long his luck could hold. There was a cold storm brewing, and it brought with it whispers of change. Grit had never put down roots like others; he'd always made his way through life by blowing with the wind. Where that left him now he wasn't entirely sure.

The creaking door swung open again, and this time Grit broke out a wide smile when he saw the new arrivals. There were two of them, the young woman tall and the boy at her side short. Their ornate blue uniforms were clean and immaculate under the lamplight, the orange edging and golden buttons glinting like the dawn light.

"Well if it ain't Colin and Sasha," Grit exclaimed, striding over to meet them. His brows knit together as he looked down to meet Colin's wide eyes. "Reckon you've grown there, son."

"Commander Grit! It's so good to see you, sir. You really – you can really tell I'm taller? I mean, Sasha said I'd grown nearly half an inch, but I –" He broke off as his sister nudged him with her elbow.

"Colin, you don't need to share every thought with Commander Grit. I'm sure he has a lot on his mind at present."

Grit's attention shifted sideways to find Sasha staring him straight in the eye, but if there was more to her words than what they all already knew, he could find no sign of it.

"Suppose we've all got a lot on our minds," he muttered as they moved past him and sat down at the long table.

No one answered him. Perhaps they had not heard. Perhaps they did not want to hear.

Grit had no idea what Colin and Sasha thought of the rising tensions with Orange Star. For months they had been on an extended inspection of Blue Moon's forward outposts and frontier bases, and before that they had been stationed in Omega Land, overseeing the transition from a wartime footing to a peacetime one. After their time serving under Rachel in the last war Grit could hardly imagine they would support a conflict with Orange Star. Then again, he couldn't imagine either of them going against their country. They were young and open-minded, yes, and did not believe in the absolute authority of the state like many of the old guard, but their hearts were as blue as any.

Loyalty. As a known defector it was a quality that Grit was widely assumed to lack, and it had kept him excluded from many confidences in his new homeland. That had never particularly bothered him before. Grit was solitary by nature, and quite happy to be left alone in peace. It was only now that he found himself wishing he had done more to ingratiate himself to Blue Moon. Grit had always considered his unique position as an outsider to be an advantage, allowing him to see what others couldn't, but as the mood in the country shifted and people shared their plans only with those they trusted most, it had become a glaring liability.

He let out a quiet little sigh as he considered the problem. Was the difficult position he found himself in now merely a consequence of the way he'd acted? Had he been caught in a trap of his own making, or was he a victim of circumstances far beyond his control? Grit didn't know which possibility bothered him more.

With another short sigh he tried to put the questions from his mind. There was no sense in dwelling on them now. All that was left was to make the most of things. A look of determination revealed itself on Grit's face as he pivoted away from the fire and at last took his seat at the table. If nothing else, he was going to make himself heard.

He had seated himself directly opposite Ana, to the right of the table's head. It was a fitting place for him. Grit had been Olaf's right hand almost since the two of them had met, back before he'd decided to leave Orange Star. If that was no longer where he belonged, then the man he'd worked for all these years – the man he considered his friend – could at least damn well do him the courtesy of saying so.

Feeling rather satisfied with his newfound resolve, Grit swung back in his chair so that only two legs were touching the floor. The decorated wooden chair groaned beneath his weight, a burst of unwelcome sound in the silent hall. On the other side of the table, cold amusement flashed across Ana's face as she watched him rocking back and forth, while Colin and Sasha kept their eyes downcast and saw nothing at all.

Grit had just settled back with his hands clasped behind his head when the door was thrown open with such force it had no time to even creak, breaking his reverie. In its wake Olaf surged into the room like the north wind itself. Without a word he charged to the head of the table and sat down with a ragged sigh.

"Well?" He demanded, panting slightly. "What are you all waiting for?"

Ana's gaze flicked sideways. "Where do you wish to begin, General?"

"Where?" Olaf's eyes, small and bloodshot between his bushy eyebrows and bulbous nose, narrowed. "Where do you think? What are the latest reports coming out of Orange Star? What are they doing, how are they reacting? Give me everything!"

"The reports are consistent with what we already know, sir." Ana's face was an emotionless mask as she answered. "Orange Star continues to divert troops to the border in response to our exercises. Sources place COs Sami and Andy in command. Their forces are relatively small, but control the main routes into the country. I expect their intent is to fight a delaying action until reinforcements can arrive."

Olaf gave a single nod, his voluminous brown beard bobbing with the movement. "And their navy? Have they recalled any ships yet?"

"No, General," Ana replied, clasping her small hands together on the marble table. "Half of Orange Star's carrier battle groups are still stationed abroad. As for the remainder, most are deployed on their north coast opposite our own fleet. Only one is currently in their southern waters."

"Good." Olaf nodded again. "I know Nell; she won't risk starting a fight on even terms unless she has to, which means she won't force a naval engagement in the north. We can use that to our advantage."

Grit grunted and let his chair fall forward with a bang.

"So y'all are really thinking about diving down this rabbit hole," he said, unable to keep a sharp edge from his voice.

Ana looked up at him, the faintest curl visible at the edge of her lips. "Nothing is decided yet. We are only planning for all contingencies."

"And my grandma's a prize dairy cow," Grit shot back.

"Enough!" Olaf bellowed, leaping to his feet and slamming his hands down on the table. "What we are doing is absolutely necessary! Orange Star has insulted us for the last time. Those islands are ours by right, and so is the oil beneath. That land was stolen from us only a few scant years ago. Stolen! I will not stand for it, and Blue Moon will not stand for it! There will be no more appeasement. The time has come to take back all that is rightfully ours."

He threw his chair back with a clatter and stamped over to the window, where he shoved his hands in his pockets and fixed all his attention on the square below. Even from behind, the effort he had put into the outburst was obvious. Olaf was not a thin man, and beneath his taut blue uniform his massive belly was heaving with exertion.

"And I suppose that little lady Orange Star's got stashed away somewhere has nothing to do with it?" Grit snapped.

The whole room froze. Colin and Sasha exchanged an uneasy glance, and even Ana's composure momentarily fell. All eyes turned to Olaf as they waited to see how he would react. It had been a rash thing to say, Grit knew, but he was in no mood to hold back.

When Olaf did respond, he did not shout or bluster. He only glanced at Grit, his eyes distant and strangely numb. It was the same look that had come over Olaf after the fight for his hometown was over.

"If that beast, that… that vile monster… is brought to justice for her crimes, then I shall consider it a bonus," Olaf growled.

Grit did not reply. He could hear how strained Olaf's voice was, and he could see the pain in his eyes. It was cloaked by the numbness like water beneath the surface of a frozen lake, but it was there.

"There is another matter you ought to be aware of, General," Sasha said in a quiet voice. "Orange Star claims that Black Hole has returned. They have repeated their call for a summit meeting to discuss the matter."

"Fool!" Olaf grunted. "I already know that. They are nothing but cowardly lies, a transparent attempt to distract us from the real issues at hand. Such trickery doesn't deserve a response."

Sasha seemed to shrink as Olaf's anger was turned towards her. As Grit watched she visibly swallowed, apparently unable to speak. He felt a wave of pity for the girl. She didn't deserve such contempt, not when all she had done was deliver the message. Was this really what things had come to? Was the leader of Blue Moon reduced to lashing out at anyone who came remotely close to challenging his point of view? Olaf had always been difficult, but the man glowering by the window was far removed from the one who had won Grit's respect.

He shook his head. If no one else would stand up to Olaf, he would.

"Really, now?" Grit said in a raised voice. "From what I hear there's been a right ruckus, so much that Green Earth's decided to lend a hand. You might want to reassess that opinion of yours, boss."

"General, there have been sporadic attacks by Black Hole remnants ever since the Omega War ended," Ana interjected, a hard edge coming into her voice as she locked eyes with Grit. "A few isolated incidents in Orange Star are hardly cause for concern."

Olaf snorted his agreement. "If Nell thinks she can use Black Hole as a shield, she's mistaken."

Grit stared at the pair of them, incredulous. "Except that Green Earth wouldn't have gotten involved if these boys were just dusty ol' leftovers. Which means Orange Star ain't trying to sell you a barrel of snake oil now, are they?"

"Snake oil?" Olaf's head tilted slightly. "What are you blathering about, Grit?"

"You telling me that you really don't see the holes in what y'all are thinking?"

"I'm getting tired of your insolence," Olaf said, his voice dropping to a dangerous low. "If you can say nothing helpful to our plans then perhaps you should simply be silent!"

Grit had already opened his mouth to respond before realising that he was at a complete loss for words.

He was well used to being the object of Olaf's temper, but this was different. Worse, somehow. The man wasn't just angry, he was hurt, and his voice creaked with barely contained fury. Ever since the destruction of his hometown Olaf had been prowling about like a bear with an open wound, and this latest business with Lash was a great big helping of salt poured on top. There was no telling what he might do. Olaf was a bundle of raw emotion, poised to act without thinking. All that remained to be seen was how much damage he could do before he came to his senses. Grit shivered at the thought. Normally, he could keep a rein on Olaf's more destructive impulses, but this… Grit had never seen Olaf like this.

A crash echoed through the hall as a log collapsed in on itself in the fire. On the other side of the table Colin flinched. Grit looked back to the fireplace, but there was nothing left to see except a pit of white ash and charred wood.

"If Orange Star has positioned small forces in strategic positions, then we must ensure we can destroy them quickly," Olaf ruminated, beginning to pace about the end of the hall. "Gather all the troops we can spare and prepare to attack those positions. If we can overwhelm their defences and seize the main routes into Orange Star's heartland before reinforcements arrive, they'll be helpless to stop our advance." He nodded to himself. "Colin, my boy, I want you to take charge of the mobilisation."

"Yes, sir," Colin replied. "At once, sir."

The poor boy was white as a sheet, Grit noted.

"Sasha!" Olaf barked. "Where do the other countries stand? What of Green Earth and Yellow Comet? Will they intervene?"

Grit turned back just in time to see Sasha take a deep breath, her posture so rigid she looked ready to shatter. "I do not think so, General. Our withdrawal from the Allied Nations has come as a great… surprise. However, Yellow Comet's position remains clear. Emperor Kanbei refuses to fight a battle-forged friend, as he considers both Orange Star and Blue Moon. They will stay neutral."

Olaf nodded. "And Green Earth? Grit here seems to think they will side with Orange Star."

Sasha blinked. "Green Earth was devastated by the Second Great War. Far more so than any other country. I doubt they would be capable of fighting in a major conflict even if they wished to." She swallowed again, and for the first time looked up. "However, there are other countries to consider. Two months ago, the United Galaxy requested to join the Allied Nations. There is a chance they will side against us."

"Purple Galaxy?" A long, deep laugh burst forth from Olaf's belly. "Nothing more than the scraps of a dead empire. They can't hope to challenge our might. So long as the other great powers do not intervene, victory will be ours."

"That's if we go to war, boss," Grit said. "If."

"Yes, yes, of course," Olaf said with a wave of his hand. "Good. Continue all preparations, and make sure all is ready if-" he paused to cast a furious glare at Grit – "we go to war."

Olaf rushed from the dining hall just as he had entered. The meeting, such as it had been, was over. Like a man waking from a daze Grit got to his feet and followed the others out.

"Colin, you mind hitching yourself up a sec?" He called out.

Colin turned about, startled and staring with wide eyes and tightened lips. In the shadows left between the tarnished sconces he waited for Grit, shifting his weight from one foot to the other.

"Commander Grit, sir, what is it?"

"Pipe it down, little partner," Grit muttered with a glance to the far end of the hallway, where Sasha and Ana stood watching. "Let's take a walk."

He put an arm around Colin's shoulder and steered him in the opposite direction. The boy blinked in confusion, but made no effort to break away as they began to stroll down the gallery.

The burgundy carpet before them was clean and well kept, and the walls were strewn with fine paintings in richly carved frames. Blue Moon was an austere country by most standards, but those in charge seemed to revel in ostentatious displays of wealth and power. It was a trait that Grit had always found mildly distasteful; today, as portrait after portrait of great leaders and generals cast their disapproving eyes down at him, he found it downright disgusting.

"Commander Grit… what's this about?"

Grit looked from one side to the other, checking to make sure they were alone. "Well, I reckon there's a few folks 'round here with mighty big ears, and I don't much feel like being overheard."

Colin said nothing. The boy was nervous enough at the best of times, and Grit knew what he was about to say would only make matters worse. The last thing Grit wanted was to rattle Colin further, but he couldn't stay silent and walk away. Not this time. He made sure to keep his tone gentle, but it was all he could do.

"What do you say you and me go try to talk His Beardedness down off of that ledge's he's standing on? 'Less of course you want a war with Orange Star."

"No!" Colin blurted out, a sudden flash of emotion breaking across his face. "No. But…"

"But?"

"We can't go against Commander Olaf." A look of consternation planted itself on Colin's round face. "We can't betray him like that. We – I – owe him everything."

Grit nodded as he considered that. After another step, he released his grip on Colin's shoulder and stepped in front of him so he could look his fellow CO directly in the eye.

"Loyalty's a fine thing, don't get me wrong, but sometimes… sometimes it's important to stand up to the folks you admire most. Sometimes that's true loyalty, you hear me?"

"What do you mean, sir?"

Grit paused as he saw the apprehension in Colin's eyes. He couldn't tell if Colin genuinely didn't understand what he meant, or if the boy was simply desperate to avoid facing the hard truth. Neither possibility was particularly reassuring. Grit sighed and tried to explain.

"Thing is, Colin, the big man ain't infallible; he makes mistakes just like the rest of us. Fact is he usually makes great stinkers, 'cause Olaf can't do anything small." Grit's eyes softened. "It's times like that you need a loyal friend to help you see the truth."

"So you think Commander Olaf is wrong," Colin said quietly.

"It don't much matter what I think," Grit said. "You're a sharp one, son… surely you can take a gander at this mess and see how wrong it all is. Orange Star ain't our enemy."

"If they'd just negotiate…" Colin trailed off, his attention darting about as he became more agitated. "It shouldn't have to be this way. And if Black Hole was back, we'd know!" He looked puzzled and lost now. "We'd have to."

Grit hesitated. He knew full well that Blue Moon was capable of twisting – if not outright ignoring – the truth, but Colin was young and idealistic. He still believed in his country with every fibre of his being, and in that moment, faced with the prospect of shattering that belief, Grit's resolve faltered. From what he could see, the need to maintain his devotion to Blue Moon was already tearing Colin apart.

For the second time that day Grit found himself at a complete loss for words.

"I- I should go," Colin stammered after a brief and uncomfortable silence. "I'm sorry, sir."

With that he was gone, rushing back the way they had come. For a while Grit watched him retreating, his thin face stony and cold. He'd tried. It hadn't been enough, but at least he'd tried. Grit shivered again as a draught pushed through the palace, and slipped his hands into his pockets. Times were changing in Blue Moon, and all that was solid seemed to be melting into air. Even the people he'd once thought he could count on were no longer what they had seemed.

Grit turned and began to walk the shadowed corridor alone. For the time being he would wait, and see how events unfolded. There was little else left he could do.

Chapter Text

Evening had fallen swiftly that night in Orange Star, the sky cooling rapidly through yellow and purple hues into the soothing indigo of dusk. The stars were just beginning to show themselves, faint glimmers of light in the darkening expanse above. Out in the vast Alara Range, far from any city and completely removed from the chaos of innumerable artificial lights, it was possible to appreciate the full majesty of the night sky as it was unveiled. Were it not for a stretch of empty highway threading its way through the mountains, the expanse of awe inspiring natural beauty would have gone on unbroken as far as the eye could see.

The starry blanket spread over the sea of pointed pines and rugged rocks was the last thing on Andy's mind as he raced through the forest at breakneck speed. He weaved around the trees with an uncanny sense, vaulting over logs and ducking under branches. Somehow he managed to dodge every obstacle even in the dark. Andy had a pair of binoculars in one hand and his com device in the other; it had not occurred to him to bring a lamp. Instead, the group of soldiers trailing behind him cast long beams of light from the torches mounted on their assault rifles. The soldiers were struggling to match Andy's relentless pace, and the illumination they provided was erratic, but Andy did not falter. He was not about to be slowed by something so trivial as being unable to see.

Andy emerged from the edge of the woods and came to a rise overlooking the deserted highway. Arms flailing he skidded to a halt, barely managing to keep his balance.

"Commander, sir, please, stop," one of the soldiers puffed, finally catching up to his CO.

It took him a moment to realise that his commander had already stopped running. Instead Andy was peering out along the empty road, searching furiously even though there was nothing there to find.

"Sir, this is insane!"

"I saw it!" Andy shot back. "I know I did! It was coming this way along the road and there's no other way a recon could get through the mountains, so it has to be around here somewhere."

Andy's eyes darted back and forth along the highway as he heard the faint rumble of a nearby engine. He put a finger to his lips and hurriedly gestured for everyone to keep quiet. Andy raised the binoculars and fixed his gaze to a bend in the road, holding his breath as the sound grew closer.

A collective groan went through all five of the soldiers as the source of the noise appeared.

"That's a truck, sir."

"That's not what I saw before," Andy said with a frown, lowering the binoculars.

"Commander… it's late. It's getting dark. Perhaps what you saw was nothing, just a shadow."

"I know what I saw," Andy insisted. "I don't know why everyone always thinks I'm crazy."

He was still frowning and staring at the road when his com device emitted a single beep. Andy's expression didn't change as he pushed the button to answer and lifted it to his ear.

"Andy?" Nell's voice said. "Are you there?"

"Yeah, I'm here, Nell. What's up?"

"We have a developing situation on the other side of the Blue Moon border. So far they're claiming it's just more troop exercises, but their movements will put the majority of their army in position to strike at central Orange Star. I've already rerouted Max and Rachel to counter a potential attack, but I want you to move south at once and be ready to offer support. Understood?"

"Can't right now, Nell, I'm busy." Andy's eyes were still scanning the highway with absolute focus.

"Busy?" Nell asked sharply. "Busy with what? Where are you?"

"I'm in the Alara Range. I saw a Black Hole recon out past the edge of our base, so I jumped in a copter to follow it. It was heading towards the mountains, and it could only make it through along the road, so we're just waiting for it."

"You're just waiting for it," Nell repeated, making no effort to disguise the scepticism in her voice. "Andy, this is serious! We've got far bigger problems than a single recon! If Blue Moon launches a full invasion, it won't matter if Black Hole gets a bit of intel on our current troop positions, because everything is going to change faster than we can possibly imagine!"

Andy said nothing. He was looking towards the bend in the road again, his concentration unbroken.

"Andy? Are you even listening to me?"

A lone Black Hole recon turned around the corner, driving towards them at full speed.

"I have to go!" Andy blurted out, switching the com device off before Nell even had a chance to reply.

"Sir… that's a Black Hole vehicle," one of the soldiers exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief.

Andy rolled his eyes. "Told you."

"What are your orders, sir?" Another soldier asked in a terse voice. "Should we follow it and see where it goes?"

"No way! I don't know what those creeps were doing, but I'm not letting them get away with it. Take it out!"

One soldier lifted a bazooka and took careful aim, waiting until they had a lock on the target. There was a burst of smoke and a bright flash as the round sped out and impacted straight into the recon, engulfing it in a geyser of flame. A moment later there was nothing left but a scattering of debris and a black stain on the tarmac.

"Target destroyed, sir."

Andy nodded, but said nothing. His elation at being proven right diminished slightly as he considered what had just happened. Destroying the recon had been too easy. It wasn't like Black Hole to send lone units deep into their territory; when they came, it was usually in force. Part of him expected enemy infantry to march out of the woods and open fire, or a squadron of planes to soar over the mountains, but nothing came. The night was quiet once again. The only noise was the heavy chop coming from the rotor blades of the transport copter that had deposited them in the mountains, growing louder by the second. The concern lingering on Andy's features began to fade as he reconsidered the situation. Perhaps the recon had been alone after all.

"I guess we should get back to the base, then," Andy said.

He glanced upwards as the massive helicopter flew by overhead, following the group like a loyal hound. Andy waved to the pilot and motioned for them to land on the highway. The pilot responded, the tone of the helicopter's heavy engines softening slightly as it came around and began to descend.

Andy smiled as he tumbled his way down the scree slope towards the transport. He squinted in an attempt to keep the dust from his eyes, but refused to slow down. He was eager to get back to the camp, but more than anything he was looking forward to calling Nell back. He couldn't wait to tell her how he had been absolutely right about the recon, and how it had been blown to bits. Andy's baggy red clothes and dark hair billowed wildly about as he reached the road, buffeted by the immense downforce of the copter's rotors. Undeterred he made it to the door and leapt through before the others had even made it down the slope.

If the world outside was a wonder of nature, then the one inside was a marvel of technology. Upon stepping though the door, Andy found himself facing an array of sophisticated equipment. This particular helicopter was outfitted as a mobile command centre rather than an ordinary troop transport, and as such one wall of the main cabin was lined with a set of computer stations, control relays, and a state of the art communications system.

For the moment Andy ignored the computers, giving them only the most cursory glance as he took a seat near the front of the cabin. With the recon destroyed, the only pressing concern was whatever it was Nell had wanted, and that, he decided, could wait until he arrived back at the base. He was still waiting for the five soldiers to file in when there came a single clear ping from one of the consoles.

Andy's attention snapped to the communications system. There was an incoming transmission. It was probably Nell calling again, considering how he had hung up on her earlier. A wide grin planted itself on Andy's face as he lifted a pair of headphones from the console and slipped them over his ears. Without them, he wouldn't be able to hear a thing over the roar of the rotors. Andy held his head up high, making no attempt to hide how pleased with himself he was, and with a single keystroke answered the transmission.

"So you're Andy," a husky voice greeted him. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

"Huh?"

Andy blinked several times, his grin fading as he stared at the monitor. He was not speaking to Nell. Displayed on the screen was a woman with clear blue eyes and flaming red hair, riven to one side by a streak of pure white. Her full lips glistened with lipstick and her high cheekbones, slightly flushed, accentuated the vivid contrast of her cool stare against her hair and skin. As Andy studied her she barely even moved, everything about her so calm she might have been sculpted from marble. He felt a curious flutter, looking at this strange woman, at once so sensual and yet so otherworldly.

She was no one Andy had ever seen before, was like no one Andy had ever seen before.

He swallowed. "Um, who are you, exactly?"

"My name is Flare. I'm a CO in the Black Hole Army."

"You're with Black Hole?" Andy's eyebrows shot upwards. "Why do you keep attacking us? What do you want with Orange Star?"

"So many questions," the woman said. "A pity. I thought you might have some idea why things had to be this way, considering you were at the centre of it all."

Andy's eyebrows came down again and furrowed together. "What are you talking about?"

At that she pinned him with her gaze, her ice blue eyes eerily beautiful. "You were the one who set us on this path. It didn't have to be this way – these long conflicts, that brought so much destruction, so much death… all of this is because of you, Andy."

"But… that doesn't make any sense," he blurted out, more bewildered than anything. "I never did anything to Black Hole. We didn't even know you existed! You used everyone, you attacked my friends and you hurt all of us. If this is anyone's fault, it's yours, and I'm not going to let you get away with it!"

For the first time since the transmission began, the strange woman looked away. Andy could not help but think that there was something melancholy about the way she looked, but that made no sense to him at all. Had his outburst bothered her? Surely it would take far more than that to upset a Black Hole commander.

"You're so innocent," Flare said at last. "I didn't expect that, not after… Well. There's still time for you to learn the truth during what's to come."

"What's to come? What does that mean?"

"I think that's enough talk for the time being. Now, I want to see what you're capable of."

Andy let out an exasperated sigh. "Why is everyone always saying things like that to me?"

Those brilliant blue eyes narrowed. "You managed to best my predecessor, and that would have taken something extraordinary. I'm curious to see how much truth there is in what they say about you. I suggest you prepare yourself."

"Prepare for what?"

She paused. "Consider it a test of your abilities."

Andy shook his head. Every answer this woman gave left him more and more confused. "A test? You mean like an exam? I don't have a pencil."

Flare smiled at that, a modest, forlorn little smile that seemed like it belonged more on a ghost than anyone living. "Don't worry, Andy. You won't need a pencil for this kind of test."

"Oh." Andy wasn't sure if he was being mocked or not.

"All you need to do to pass this test is find me. If you manage that, I'll answer any one question you ask, seeing as you have so many of them."

"And if I fail?" Andy asked.

"Then you're not the commander I think you are."

"Hey! What's that supposed to mean?"

The connection cut off, and Andy was left with only the droning of the helicopter's engines for a reply.

"Commander, we're ready to take-off," the pilot shouted, sticking his head back into the cabin.

"Should we wait, sir?" One of the soldiers asked. "Who was that woman? What was that transmission all about?"

"I… I don't know," Andy said, feeling strangely lightheaded as he tried to process everything this new foe had told him. "That woman said she was a Black Hole CO and something was coming. She said…" He trailed off, trying to recall her exact words. "She said she wanted to test me because I beat her predecessor. Whatever that is."

Andy lapsed into silence, his eyes moving aimlessly about the cabin. It had been such a brief conversation, but his head was swimming with so many questions he felt almost dizzy. Was this Flare the one behind the attacks on Orange Star? And if she was, why? What could a stranger possibly want from them? And why did she seem so interested in him personally, and what he could do? It was all so surreal.

All at once Andy looked up, startled. It had only just occurred to him what Flare had meant when she was talking about testing him. The sudden realisation felt like he had been struck by lightning.

"We need to get back to the base now!"

The pilot nodded. "Understood, sir. We'll commence take-off right away."

Andy strapped himself into a seat as the transport began to rumble and lift from the ground, moving off through the night sky. He may not have understood most of what this new commander was talking about, but there was no doubt in his mind about what was going to happen next.

Whoever she was, and whatever she wanted, Flare was going to attack.

The return flight was quiet. Andy sent ahead a warning to the military base where he was working, advising them of the situation and ordering all troops to mobilise for combat. Once that was done, there was nothing left to say. Everyone in the cabin knew that a battle with Black Hole was imminent, and the mood was sombre as the grave. For his part, Andy was neither frightened nor unsettled by the knowledge of what was to come. On the contrary, he found it strangely reassuring. As serious as the situation was, battle was something he understood, and more importantly, it was something he knew he could handle. Knowing that the enemy was about to attack only instilled in Andy a fierce resolve to see them defeated. All the questions Flare had left him with were soon forgotten as he fixed his mind on the only problem that mattered now.

The copter had barely touched the ground when Andy ripped off his seat belt, flying from his seat like a demon. He threw open the door and leapt out into the open airfield, sprinting across the tarmac towards the base's control centre. He could hear tense chatter and the rumble of engines all around as the Orange Star forces stirred to action. A faint whine cut through the night air, and a moment later, several tanks near the base's edge were engulfed by fire. Andy's face set in a look of grim determination as he witnessed the explosion, but he did not slow down. If anything, he only ran faster.

"What's happening?" Andy gasped as he finally reached the control centre.

As he crossed the doorway, one foot caught on a loose shoelace, and he tripped and tumbled to the floor.

All eyes snapped to the commotion. Andy made for an unusual sight. An awkward boy with wildly messy hair and beads of sweat glistening on his brow was hardly the picture of a model military commander, especially when he was splayed on the floor. Most soldiers would have been anything from amused to downright contemptuous at the appearance of such a bedraggled youth in their midst, but Andy's awkward entrance provoked nothing more than a few discreet smiles. It didn't matter how clumsy he was, or how foolish the words coming out of his mouth were. Andy's deeds in recent years had more than earned their respect.

"Here, sir. Let me give you a hand."

An older officer with short-cropped grey hair helped Andy back to his feet, setting him upright with a pat on the back.

"Thanks," Andy said, unable to hide a sheepish smile. "So, uh, what's the situation?"

"We've taken heavy fire from enemy rockets and artillery, sir," the officer answered. "Moderate casualties. Multiple tank units have been hit hard."

"Do we know where Black Hole's troops are?" Andy asked.

"No sir." The officer couldn't help but grimace. "We have no line of sight on any enemy unit."

"That's not good."

Andy looked at the control room's main display, mounted on one of the walls. Several windows displayed footage from camera feeds located around the base, while another section showed an aerial graphic of the encampment. There was nothing on the surrounding area, or on the Alara Range. Andy couldn't believe it. How had they been caught so completely unprepared? They needed more information, and fast. He raced from the front of the room over to a desk where a technician sat monitoring the feeds.

"Can you show me a map of the area?" He asked.

She nodded in acknowledgement. "Just a second, sir."

As the technician typed a few short commands, she could not help but raise an eyebrow at her CO. One of Andy's sleeves was still rolled up, but the other had come loose and fallen to his wrist, and he was breathing heavily. The technician said nothing, but there was a slight smirk on her lips as she brought up the map.

As the map filled the main screen, Andy took a moment to take in the nearby terrain. The military base sat on the edge of the Alara Range, and the surrounding area was dominated by thick woods and mountains. Only to the south did the hills give way to flatland. The only real feature of note was the highway he had chased the recon along, making its way up from the south.

"Which way are those rockets firing from?" He asked the room.

"North, sir," an operator replied.

"So Black Hole's hiding in the mountains," Andy said. "That means we'll have to flush them out! Start sending our main force out into the woods, but have everyone stay close together." He looked back at the technician. "Do we have a better view of what's out there?"

"We didn't have any eyes looking north," the technician said. "I'm sorry, sir. We were focused on Blue Moon."

"That's okay," Andy said. "We'll just have to get some scouts into the mountains instead. Have our copters get teams deployed here, here, and… here," he ordered, pointing to several high points on the map.

Andy watched with a determined gaze as new reports began to come in from the battle raging outside. The enemy rockets continued to fire on the base and surrounding area, but they were exposing themselves in the process. Other Black Hole units emerged from hidden positions as well, moving to defend their long range weapons as the Orange Star vehicles began combing their way through the woods. Before long, small skirmishes erupted all throughout the mountains as the uneven lines met amongst the chaos of the night. Andy's attention darted from engagement to engagement as the reports came in, taking in everything at once and issuing new orders in response.

The initial fights were promising. Andy's forces had taken fire as they advanced through the woods, but they had also located and destroyed several units of enemy rockets and artillery. Better still, Orange Star's own rockets had made it through the initial bombardment unscathed. As the battle continued, Andy kept them in reserve, unleashing their firepower whenever an unexpected threat was spotted. Their progress was steady, marked by a series of intense clashes that ended almost as soon as they began. Andy didn't know what Black Hole was hoping to achieve. The fights taking place as the Orange Star troops moved through the rough terrain were all strangely disconnected from each other. Every group of enemies was caught and destroyed in turn, each one isolated and alone. As far as Andy could tell, they weren't even trying to support each other. It made no sense to him.

Something about the frequency of the fights and the sharp escalations and ebbs in the combat felt wrong. It was too regular, almost as if it had been planned. Flare's force was being steadily depleted as Andy's units moved further into the forest, but he was sure she must have expected this. If anything, she seemed to be letting it happen. As Andy watched the battle unfolding on the display, he only grew more convinced that the way the Black Hole units were deployed was deliberate. Every violent skirmish was another piece of the puzzle, a trail of breadcrumbs leading deeper into the mountains. Andy couldn't hope to articulate the pattern he saw forming in the enemy's movements, but he was certain it was there.

Worse still, Andy knew there was something he was missing.

"Hey, are our Md tanks ready to go?" He asked, the question directed at no one in particular.

"No sir," another operator replied. "They took heavy damage in the enemy's first strikes. One unit has three tanks ready, the other just one."

"Right." Andy nodded as the seeds of a plan began to coalesce in his mind. "Get those tanks joined up into a single unit, and send them out. Tell them to head for the bridge over that creek, but don't move out of the woods yet."

"Yes, sir."

The orders were sent. Outside, the sounds of combat had grown more distant as the Orange Star forces pushed the enemy further back. It was not long before they faded away entirely as the last few Black Hole infantry they had sighted pulled back across the creek. There were no further strikes after that. The pattern of short, intense fights was broken. Andy continued to stare at the main display, but no new information arrived. No new enemy units had been spotted, and there was no sign of a retreat or surrender. A deep unease settled over the control centre as the lull in the battle grew longer.

Andy ordered all units to take cover and hold position on their side of the creek, taking advantage of the break in the combat to better study what terrain lay ahead. A dirt road ran west alongside the creek until it joined a larger river, where it turned northwest and followed the course of a sloping valley. From that point onwards the terrain grew much more rugged. Based on their movements so far, Black Hole's forces were coming from that direction. Andy found himself paralysed by indecision. They had made good progress thus far, but beyond the creek they were blind. He couldn't decide what the right course of action was. He couldn't risk letting enemy troops escape to cause havoc in Orange Star, but he was fully aware that attacking into heavy terrain without any intel was a bad idea, especially in light of his earlier exchange with Flare. Andy was sure that she'd planned for all of this. Everything that had happened tonight was part of some sort of deadly trial, one whose rules he was still scrambling to learn.

Part of Andy could not help but wonder if Flare was somewhere out there in the mountains, watching the same battle. Did she feel as unsure of her next move as he did, or was she waiting patiently like a spider at the centre of its web? Her words kept echoing in his mind as he considered the dilemma. She was testing him, but how? Flare had said that all he needed to do was find her, but what did that even mean? For all Andy knew, she was waiting with more troops deeper in the valley, and all her talk of a test was just a ploy to lure him into an ambush. Flare had seemed oddly genuine during their conversation, but Andy had learnt better than to trust a Black Hole commander.

Whether she had been honest with him or not, the questions remained: what did Flare want from him? What did she expect him to do next? Andy thought back over the night, wracking his brain for any inadvertent hint Flare might had given. There had been time for her words to sink in now, but still Andy had no idea what most of what she said was even supposed to mean. The whole night had been a whirlwind of unexpected events, ever since he had first spotted the recon –

Andy shot up straight. The recon. Up until that moment, he had entirely forgotten about the lone recon he'd chased down. Its destruction had been completely overshadowed by the transmission from Flare, and the subsequent attack. Andy let out a giddy laugh. He was on to something, he could feel it. The presence of the recon so close to their base was surely no coincidence. It had to be a clue; he just needed to decipher its meaning.

He turned back to the technician, filled with newfound excitement. "Where does that highway through the mountains go?"

"I think it goes all the way to the north coast, sir."

"Okay, but where does it go before then?"

She stared blankly at him. "Through the mountains?"

"Right." Andy frowned. "So what's in the mountains, again?"

"Let me see… several towns, a ski resort, some old mines. That, and more trees than you can shake a stick at."

"That can't be it," Andy said. "Black Hole usually has somewhere safe to use as a base, somewhere that's not too far from the fighting. That recon had to be going there. But where could it be?"

He rubbed his chin and adopted his most serious expression. The technician raised one eyebrow. Even when he was trying to appear thoughtful, Andy came across as more perplexed than he did wise.

"Show me where that highway goes."

"The highway turns east after entering the Alara Range, sir," the technician pointed out. "The enemy troops are coming from the opposite direction."

Andy ignored her, looking back to the main display with an impatient twist to his lips. With an unimpressed sigh, the technician obeyed his instructions and pulled up a satellite image of the area. Andy was soon completely absorbed by the screen, watching as the aerial view of the landscape scrolled steadily along the highway. The image was blurry, and several years out of date; at such a small scale, the road was only a thin grey line winding through the trees. It wasn't the best intel he could have hoped for, but it was all they had.

"Stop!" Andy exclaimed. "What's that?"

He was pointing towards a clearing a short distance from the road. The poor quality of the image made it difficult to tell exactly what was there, but there was no mistaking the outline of an artificial structure built into the mountainside.

The technician stared at the picture, uncertain. "Hold on." She typed several more commands. "Looks like it's an old bunker from the conflict with Blue Moon. According to this it's been abandoned for twenty years."

"That's where their base is," Andy decided.

"But Black Hole's forces are coming from the valley, in the opposite direction…"

"Exactly!" Andy flashed the technician a grin. "It's a trick. Flare's trying to make us look the wrong way. Well, it's not going to work! I'm not playing her game any more. We're going to take that bunker, shut down the enemy troops, and put an end to this test!"

More than a few of the control centre's staff appeared unconvinced by that line of reasoning, but Andy paid them no heed. Every instinct told him that his theory was right, and he was certain it was the best explanation for the way the enemy forces were moving. He had no doubt that Flare was attacking so heavily from one direction in order to distract him from another. A sly smile came over Andy as it occurred to him that there was no reason why he couldn't pull the same trick.

Andy's eyes roved over the tactical display, accounting for every single unit as he planned his next move. Everything would have to be tightly coordinated for his idea to work. The only break in his concentration came when he paused to roll up his sleeve. He had finally realised that it had fallen down. Andy swallowed, suddenly aware of how dry his mouth felt. His plan was not without risk. The Orange Star troops were already battered, and if he miscalculated, the battle could easily turn into a rout. Andy soon dismissed the thought. He was sure that the force gathered in the woods was sufficient for his purpose, no matter what lay in wait ahead. The only potential problem that might arise was if Flare had units deployed to protect the bunker. Andy mulled that possibility for a moment, but there had been no indication that was the case. On the contrary, he suspected that Black Hole was relying solely on secrecy to protect their base of operations.

Andy clapped his hands together and began issuing new orders, making sure every one of his units knew what they had to do. Past the creek there was still no sign of the enemy. One way or another, he had to act. Andy watched on the display as the scouts he had sent into the mountains earlier began to move. He had no idea what was waiting at the abandoned bunker, but he would soon find out.

"Okay." Andy took a small breath. "Everyone, let's go!"

All at once Andy's forces began to move across the creek. They had barely crossed the water when the first Black Hole units were sighted. The response was immediate; the Orange Star troops opened fire with punishing force, small arms and heavy weapons working in concert to obliterate the waiting formation of enemy tanks and infantry. Meanwhile an artillery barrage blasted the area farther beyond, adjusting their targeting as more enemies were sighted. Andy watched the assault unfold with a determined light in his eyes. Any respite from the fighting was finished, and he knew it would not be long before Flare responded in kind.

"Sir!" An operator shouted. "We've got Neotanks incoming!"

Andy's gaze snapped to this new arrival in alarm. A squad of Neotanks had moved out of the forest and was advancing along the dirt road, spraying bullets at everything they passed. Andy's pulse quickened. There weren't many tools at his disposal that could deal with this new threat. Perhaps he wouldn't need to, Andy thought as he checked the position of the copters carrying the scout teams. Almost there.

"Have that recon unit pull back from the road!" Andy ordered. "Target those Neotanks with artillery, now, and get our Md tanks ready to follow up!"

Artillery fire rained down on the Neotanks, but it was not enough to stop them. Andy could feel his heart pounding in his chest. His forces were engaged by tanks and recon cars all throughout the line of battle, and the only thing standing between the armoured terrors and an entire flank was the under-strength squad of Md tanks. Again Andy checked the location of his assault team. The copters had arrived at the bunker and ceased moving. Elsewhere, the Neotanks continued to advance.

"Assault team, come in!" Andy shouted.

There was no answer, and the main display showed no movement at all near the bunker. Had there been Black Hole troops defending their base after all? Andy had no idea what the assault team's status was, and his forces were under too much pressure on the main front to wait for a report that might never come. He was out of time. There was no choice but to order his Md tanks to engage. Andy's expression was grim as he watched the display update, waiting for the clash to take place. His heavy tanks revealed themselves and began firing, but it was still not enough to bring the Neotanks down.

Andy braced himself for what was about to happen.

"Sir," an operator said, "the enemy… they've stopped."

No attack came. A wave of relief washed over Andy, tinged with tentative optimism. Reports began to flood in, each one telling the same story: the Black Hole tanks had simply fallen silent and come to a halt. The unmanned war machines were frozen in place, like puppets whose strings had been cut. For a moment Andy did not know what to think, uncertain if his strategy had actually worked, or if some other factor was involved.

A series of electronic beeps interrupted Andy's train of thought. A signal was coming through from one of the squads he had sent to capture the abandoned bunker. Andy gestured for it to be put on speaker.

"Sir, this is the assault team," the voice began. "Our mission was a success. We've secured the bunker and disabled the enemy's control network."

It was confirmation of everything Andy had hoped for. The tension that had lay heavy over the night ever since Flare first made contact evaporated in an instant. A loud cheer erupted throughout the room, and Andy pumped a fist into the air. The battle was won.

"Great job!" Andy said with a wide smile. "What did you find?"

"There's not much here, sir. A few generators, a standard Black Hole control array, and some supplies. Oh, and one other thing."

"What other thing?" Andy asked.

"It's… well, you'd better come out and see for yourself, sir."

That was strange, and not at all what he had been expecting to hear, but Andy accepted the report without question. More status updates coming in confirmed that the enemy troops had been completely disabled, and the battle was well and truly over. There was nothing urgent that needed his attention here, Andy decided, and there was no reason why he shouldn't go and see the enemy's base for himself.

For the third time that night Andy boarded the transport copter and waited as it began its take-off procedure. With the battle's end, any real trepidation regarding what was about to happen next had waned, leaving only a murky kind of unease. Andy couldn't begin to imagine what in the old bunker was so important that he needed to see it in person. Had the assault team found sensitive documents or plans? It seemed unlikely. In all the battles fought during the great wars, the number of times they had captured anything significant from a Black Hole base could be counted on one hand. But what else could it be? Andy's mind meandered from possibility to possibility as the helicopter drew steadily closer to its destination, each more unlikely than the last. The idea of simply waiting to see what he would find was perhaps the only one that did not occur to him.

At last the copter began to descend. Andy could barely manage to sit still as it landed; the closer he came to an answer, the more restless he grew. Andy felt a tide of frustration rising within as he undid his seat belt and got to his feet, still unable to come up with a satisfying explanation for why he needed to see the bunker. The battle was over, and Flare had lost. What could possibly be left to find?

Andy threw open the helicopter's side door and emerged into the cool night air. He could not help but shiver as a chill breeze ran through the trees, the rustle of swaying branches reaching his ears even beneath the sound of the helicopter's engines winding down. Overhead, the waxing moon was just visible at the crest of a nearby mountain, casting a sickly glow over the clearing. It was a world drained of colour, reduced to deep shadows and a dusting of pale light.

A waiting soldier waved to Andy as he moved towards the bunker. Andy ran to meet him, too impatient to walk.

"Sir!" The soldier saluted him. "We've secured the perimeter and made a sweep of the bunker. It's safe to enter."

Andy looked momentarily nonplussed as he received the status update. It had not even occurred to him that there might still be dangers waiting inside the old bunker. He had simply assumed that any threat had ended with the battle.

"Right." Andy dismissed the thought. "So what did you find, anyway?"

The soldier winced. "You, uh, really need to see it, sir. This way."

The lack of an answer only stoked Andy's curiosity as he followed the soldier out of the open. It was highly unusual for military personnel to be so tight lipped, and he wondered if they were unable to explain, or merely unwilling. Two more members of the squad were standing guard outside a weathered metal door. Andy had never been much good at reading people, but he could nonetheless tell that something had left them unsettled. Andy made sure to offer them a friendly smile as he passed, even as he became more convinced that something about this definitely was not right.

The bunker's interior was almost pitch black. A series of lamps had been set up along the corridor, providing some meagre light amongst the thick shadows. Andy slowed as they moved deeper into the building, unsure of his footing. The floor was strewn with dirt, and it crunched beneath his boots with every step. Apart from that the old bunker was deathly quiet. The abandoned complex was a relic from another time, a buried memory of all the wars that had come before. Walking through the maze of stained concrete felt like stepping into a haunted house, Andy thought. He would not have been surprised to catch sight of a ghost drifting through the shadows.

They turned a corner and Andy saw another stretch of empty, eerie corridor, identical to the one they had come from. Identical, save for a bright light spilling out from an open door. Andy's head whipped around to the soldier to ask what it was.

The soldier gestured toward the light, his expression grim. "In there, sir."

Andy had no idea what to expect as he moved towards the door, or any inkling why this room was well lit when the rest of the facility had been completely neglected. Everything about this felt wrong. The empty bunker was nothing at all like the Black Hole field bases he had seen during the great wars. Andy came to the door and with a deep breath stepped into the room. It was clean, well lit, and bare, save for a large television mounted on the far wall.

And there, displayed on the screen, was Flare.

"You found me," she said, bowing her head in respect. "I'm impressed."

Andy stared at her, dumbfounded. He'd been certain that by moving to take the bunker and disable the enemy troops, he'd been outwitting Flare. Yet here she was, perfectly at ease. She'd expected this. Everything that had happened tonight, everything that he had done, it had all been part of her plan.

"I don't understand," he said. "What was all this about?"

A bemused smile crossed Flare's lips. "I told you I wanted to see what you were capable of. And now I have."

Andy blinked several times. "This was all about me?"

"That surprises you," Flare said. There was honest curiosity on her face as she made the observation. "Strange. I wouldn't have expected that at all." She glanced briefly away. "Not that it matters now. I promised a single answer if you passed my test, and you have. Choose your question well."

He frowned. "How do I know you'll tell the truth?"

"You have my word."

Andy's head tilted to one side. "Why are you doing this?"

The question was tumbling from Andy's mouth before he'd even had time to think it through. It was the first one that came to mind, and only afterwards did it occur to him that there might have been something more important to ask. With a childlike curiosity, Andy had cut straight to the most fundamental thing he did not understand.

Flare went to answer, then paused. Her brow creased in confusion, and she glanced away. The simple directness of the question seemed to have thrown her off balance. After a short interval, she inhaled and looked back to him.

"Because I have no choice," she said in a curt voice. "Those like you, the people you trust… they haven't left me any."

"What kind of answer is that?" Andy asked.

Flare's expression darkened. "The only one I can give."

Andy opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again. He had no idea what Flare meant, and it was incredibly frustrating. Part of Andy had hoped Flare might actually be of some help, that she might be as genuine as she seemed, but she had only left him feeling more bewildered than before.

On the screen, Flare sighed, and with a toss of her long red hair appeared serene once more.

"Goodbye, Andy," she said. "We will meet again."

The television cut to black, and Flare was gone. Andy stared at the blank screen for a few moments longer, holding the afterimage of Flare in his memory. He almost felt as if he needed to convince himself that their conversation had actually taken place, that his fight with this mysterious new enemy was not just a product of his imagination. Everything Flare had said – everything about her – was so confusing and surreal, and Andy had no idea what to make of it.

He shivered again. There was nothing left to be done here. All he could do now was head back to the base and contact Nell. She needed to hear about this, Andy knew. Perhaps she would even understand what it had all been for. He certainly didn't; trying to make sense of all that had happened seemed to him an insurmountable task.

As Andy made his way back through the bunker and out into the open, Flare's parting words played again in his mind. He might not have understood most of what had been said that night, but he was certain they at least were true. They would meet again.

Whatever Black Hole was planning, this was only the beginning.

Chapter Text

The nightmares were always the same.

Alone in the emptiness, abandoned to her fate. Her mind screamed at her to run, but she was paralysed and could not move. Could not escape what was already past. It did not matter how she struggled: the nightmares were always the same, and they carried her inexorably onwards like a lamb to the slaughter. Soon the still surface loomed before her like a pool of ink, and an iron grip forced her under. The water was cold and bitter as it forced its way down her throat, forced its way deeper and deeper inside. She could not breathe. She was drowning, always drowning, but never allowed to die.

A strangled gasp burst from her lips, a tortured, heaving breath as a rush of panic forced her awake. It was only then she realised it was just a nightmare, or something like a nightmare. She felt confused. Disorientated. Sometimes when she first awoke it was difficult to tell what was real and what was false, the overwhelming terror persisting even though the danger had long since passed. Her emotions, her memories and her sensations, none of them fit together properly. Past and present, dreaming and waking, they all bled together until nothing remained but fear.

She closed her eyes again and focused on her heartbeat, forcing it to slow, forcing herself to remember who she was. Who she had become. That time and place was far behind her now, and yet the terror, the nightmares, and the memories had not left her. Perhaps they never would. It had taken her a long time to make peace with that possibility. At first, she had hated how the past would engulf her without warning, had hated that there was no escape from the torment. More than anything, she had loathed the broken ruin they made of her.

He was the one who had taught her differently, and shown her that pain itself could be a source of strength.

She threw back the blanket draped over her so it crumpled to the floor, letting the air flood over the black underwear and naked body beneath. The air here was cold. So cold. She could not see it in the dark but she knew her breath was misting the second it left her mouth. Could feel it wet upon her lips. It was weakness to shiver in the cold, and she refused to submit. Like a child first learning to walk she got to her feet and stumbled into the darkness of the chamber beyond.

The world around her was a simple one. She could sense little through the pitch black gloom that surrounded her. No, she thought as her eyes adjusted to the dark, that was not true. There was a familiar red glow, barely visible beneath the metal grate that served as a floor. The same metal grate that felt so chill beneath her bare feet. After the cold she was most aware of the faint hum of machinery, muffled as though it belonged to some other reality. They were small perceptions, but they were all that remained.

The world around her was a liminal one. Stripped of almost all sensation, a place strung between life and death.

With so little to focus on without, she had no choice but to feel within. To feel the steady rhythm of her pulse beneath her skin, to feel the light breath of her flaming hair as it fell over her shoulders. She could feel it all so clearly. Could feel the strength of her supple body in the dark. Could feel the jagged patterns that had been cut into her skin.

A look of anguish swept over her as she ran a hand from her rib to her hip. There were moments, when she lingered in the space between dreaming and waking, when she could almost convince herself that the scars were only imagined, and that everything had not unfolded the way it did. She steeled herself and let her hand drop. The scars had no hold over her. They were a cruelty writ in flesh, the last memento of another life. They did not not belong to her, but to a foolish girl who had trusted what she was told.

That woman was dead, and from her ashes someone far stronger had been born.

She started as a single electronic note cut through the gloom. It was a familiar signal, a call that demanded her presence, and it could not be ignored.

With a flick of her finger she turned on the lights and quickly began to dress. She decided against wearing her usual combat suit in favour of a simple shirt and pants. She had been summoned, and it was unwise to keep the master of Black Hole waiting. Once she was fully dressed, she left her chamber and made her way through the empty corridors with a purposeful stride. The sound of her footsteps reverberated through the desolate halls as she walked, their echoes the only company to be found. Before long she arrived outside the meeting room and came to a halt, taking a few brief seconds to compose herself before entering.

This chamber too was dark, but that was of no consequence. She knew what was expected of her, and in a few short steps assumed a position near the middle of the room. There was no sign that anyone else was present, but she knew he was close by. He would be secreted away in the shadows, or observing her from some concealed place. Always hidden, always watching. It was his way.

There came a low thud like the beat of a drum, followed by a faint hiss from one of the walls. A groaning noise as metal began to shift over metal, and then the harsh beat of heavy footsteps marching into the chamber from behind. Her lord had arrived, and with his presence a show of respect was expected. She inhaled to steady herself, and knelt down on one knee.

"You have returned," he said, his voice deep and sibilant even through the faint haze of distortion.

She closed her eyes and remained still as the footsteps moved in a noose around her.

"Yes, my lord," she answered. "I have done as you commanded."

His great cloak shifted as he moved, those green eyes glowing like lamps in the night. "Do they suspect?"

"Difficult to say, my lord." It was not a question she could answer with any confidence. "If they do, I saw no sign of it."

"Hmm." The footsteps arrived in front of her and paused. "And what have you learned?"

She hesitated. Uncertain, unsure. Weak.

"And what have you learned?" He asked again, his voice harder this time.

She could not keep her eyes shut and opened them, blinking as she struggled to order her reply. "Our foe is not what I expected," she said. "I was… surprised by what I saw. In more ways than one."

He laughed at that, the sound distorted and cruel. There were times when his mirth was almost as frightening as his displeasure. She knew he would not understand the entirety of her impressions, and did not try to explain them. Some thoughts were best kept secret.

"I would expect nothing less from our young friend," he remarked. "It was my greatest error. To underestimate the very enemy I had singled out. I will not make the same mistake again."

"No, my lord," she agreed.

"This time… this time they will stand alone. And they will fall."

"Green Earth has already come to their aid," she said, her voice neutral.

His helmeted head made a sharp turn in her direction. With a flash his glowing eyes turned red, boring directly into her. His gaze was a promise of fire and fury, but she did not dare look away. Did not dare show such weakness. After an intolerable moment his bearing shifted, and his eyes became green once again.

"Green Earth is filled with worms," he hissed, "weak and wretched. They will collapse beneath the weight of all they try to win, just as they have before. In the end, the enemy will stand alone. Already their other allies desert them. And soon they will suffer, as all who have opposed me will suffer."

He stopped moving, and looked directly at her.

"Do not question this."

She bowed her head and averted her gaze. "Of course not, my lord."

He fell silent for a time, and all she could hear was her heartbeat. It had grown faster again, she realised, and she could not manage to slow it. A flicker of despair ran through her. She had not always been this easily shaken.

"Rise," he said at last.

She did as she was bidden, her body unfurling before him. Her arms fell limp by her side as she looked up into those artificial green eyes.

"You…" There was a hiss as he exhaled. "You, Flare, are my greatest weapon. You are the one who shall bring fear and ruin to my foes."

She did not immediately respond.

"How shall we proceed regarding Green Earth?" She asked at last, her face marked by a look of slight concern.

He considered that for a moment, watching her from behind the high collar of his cloak. "See to it that their ability to fight alongside Orange Star is crushed. The task is at your discretion. In the meantime, I must attend to… other matters."

She gave a respectful nod. "It will be done."

Silence fell between them, and she did not venture to break it. After a time he reached out towards her, cupping her cheek in his hand. He lifted her head a little, and she could feel the intensity of his gaze as he studied her. Neither said a word. The silence between them was as cold as the surface of his metal clad fingers. Colder than the floor beneath her feet when first she awoke, colder than her nightmares. Colder than death itself.

After an agonising wait, his chill touch withdrew.

"Do not fail me," he said.

"Never, my lord."

It was the answer that was expected of her, and she did not even begin to consider any other. Any private, secret doubt that it was a promise she might be unable to keep, she kept well hidden.

There came a faint, acrid smell as smoke began to waft from his mask. It was a familiar odour, one she had come to recognise as a sign her lord was pleased. Their conversation was finished. Without another word he was gone, withdrawing back into the shadows, and she was alone once again.

Gradually, she began to relax. He had given her everything, and yet there were times when she was unsettled by his power, times when her faith was shaken. She let out a breath she had not known she was holding, and closed her eyes. It was a foolish feeling, born of a fear lingering from another life, and it meant nothing. Flare had no desire to defy him, and even if she had wished to, it would have been futile. She knew that better than anyone. She alone had glimpsed the extent of his plans, and witnessed how far he would go to overcome a defeat. In that they were not so different.

As Flare left the meeting room to prepare for the task ahead, she felt only a cold certainty about what was to come. It did not matter how determined or how powerful the enemy was.

He always won in the end.

Chapter Text

There was no sign of the clear morning sky that Nell had left behind when she entered the military headquarters, descended below ground, and boarded a small electric vehicle. There was only a pervasive darkness that spread like spilt ink, seeping through brick and concrete despite the best efforts of the lights that lined the tunnel walls. Nell's eyes were impassive as she looked out from her place in the back seat. She could make out few details nearby. The area illuminated by the bright bulbs was meagre, and their harsh glare had the effect of making the surrounding gloom appear blacker. The effect was unsettling. It was as though she had entered a world ruled by shadows, the lights spaced too far apart to do anything more than hold the darkness at bay. Nell found herself pensive as she watched the lights passing by. The underground drive from headquarters was not a long one, but it offered time enough for her be alone with her thoughts.

Six days had passed since the attack on Andy's troops, and in that time Nell's investigation had come no closer to a breakthrough. The cryptic comments offered by the woman named Flare raised more questions than they answered, and what few hints they had contained were no cause for comfort. Worse, now Orange Star had to contend with a new enemy of unknown strength and intent, one whose goals and methods they knew nothing about. It was an unenviable position, and one that had increasingly become the norm over the past three years. They had been scrambling to understand the events that had rocked the existing global order ever since Olaf first launched his invasion of Orange Star. So much time and energy had been spent trying to unravel the riddle of Black Hole, and to little success. Every hard won answer only gave birth to further questions, the mysteries continuing to pile up no matter how many they managed to solve. It had in no small part been a lack of answers that had driven the formation of the Allied Nations, and what had come of it? They knew little more now than they had when the Omega War broke out, and the alliance itself was in tatters. The outlook of that particular experiment in geopolitics was bleak.

Nell could not help but be troubled by that thought as she was driven through the subterranean tunnels beneath the capital city. There was little room left to hope that the alliance might recover. There was simply too much bad blood between Orange Star and Blue Moon for any kind of truce to last, much as Nell might have wished otherwise. As for Yellow Comet, they continued to refuse anything more than routine contact, apparently determined not to offend any of their former allies. Any chance they might reverse course seemed remote. That just left Green Earth, where despite the informal agreement Nell had reached with Eagle, there was still no consensus between their two countries on how best to move forward. Anything more than a mutual recognition of the threat Black Hole posed was by no means guaranteed. Nell looked ahead down the tunnel, where they were approaching a security checkpoint, and felt a flicker of anticipation. If all went well, today's conference would prove an important step towards reaching an official agreement with Green Earth. It was an opportunity they could not afford to squander; with multiple foes threatening to invade, Orange Star could not risk standing alone. The stakes could scarcely have been any higher.

The driver slowed as they approached the checkpoint. A cursory check of Nell's ID followed, and the vehicle was allowed through. She had arrived. Nell disembarked and walked towards a reinforced door, the surrounding area guarded both by military personnel and well dressed agents in suits. The guards gave a respectful nod and opened the door for her, allowing Nell to continue along a plain corridor that led deeper into the underground base. The facility was the nerve centre for all of Orange Star's top level operations, connected to key government and military buildings on the surface by the network of tunnels. It was nothing less than the single most secure location in the entire city. Access was possible only at heavily fortified entry points, and multiple layers of security measures ensured there would be no unwanted intruders.

Nell continued walking through the spartan corridors, passing by several briefing rooms and operations centres. Soon she came to an open area, where another set of guards stood around the perimeter. A pair of large, curved desks dominated the middle of the space, manned by personnel whose job it was to coordinate activity across the entire facility. Doors lined the walls, leading to everything from mission control facilities to living quarters. As Nell stepped into the hall, every person present stopped what they were doing and stood at attention.

"At ease, everyone," Nell advised them, a slight smile showing on her face as she approached one of the desks. "Are they ready?" She asked the soldier behind the desk.

"Yes, ma'am. Everyone else has already arrived."

"Very good," Nell said with a nod. "As you were."

She continued across the hall towards a large pair of double doors, and with a short breath stepped through.

What lay beyond was known simply as the War Room. The heart of the entire facility, it was a long, streamlined space filled with the most advanced command and control systems available. Most of the room was taken up by a gleaming metal conference table, capable of seating up to two dozen. The side walls meanwhile were lined with a vast array of computer stations, most of which were currently operated by a combination of military and civilian personnel, and above them a second row of monitors displayed incoming information and intelligence from around the globe. One section included a huge map of the world, every detail rendered in crystal clarity on the digital display. At the opposite end of the room, a massive flat screen built into the far wall remained dark.

Nell walked over to the conference table, where several seats were already filled. At the head of the table President Hale could not keep from adjusting his scarlet tie, and to his left sat a number of senior government figures. The chair immediately to Hale's right had been left empty in anticipation of Nell's arrival, and on its other side was Sami, waiting in silence with a stony expression on her face. The President gave Nell a nod of greeting as she took her seat at the table, but no one said a word. The silence was striking. Nell had only just arrived, but already she could perceive how the room was tense with anticipation. That was hardly a surprise, she reflected. Waiting with only subtle beeps, quiet chatter, and the hum of the closed air systems, everyone present had time to think over the events of recent weeks. In the War Room they were surrounded by reminders of the challenges that were to come, and how unprepared they were to face them.

Nell found her thoughts drifting back to the mystery of Black Hole as she waited for the meeting to begin. Any attempts to follow up on her interview with Von Bolt had only reminded her how much they still did not know. Even after three wars, much about their enemy's very existence remained unclear. To Orange Star, it was as if they had simply sprung into existence one day, ready to wage a campaign of conquest against the entire world. The reality was more complex, of course. Much time and effort had been spent analysing how a combination of intermediaries, disinformation, and false flag operations had triggered the multifaceted conflicts of the First Great War. It was obvious that the plot to destabilise the continent had been planned well in advance, but any efforts to trace Black Hole's activity had yielded few results. Sturm had covered his tracks well. The most promising lead of all – the relationship between Blue Moon and Black Hole – had proven especially useless. Even after Blue Moon had joined the Allied Nations, Sturm's patronage of Olaf during the first war had remained a sensitive subject. Officially, Blue Moon denied that it had ever cooperated with Black Hole, and any evidence to the contrary had been quietly buried. Even before the current crisis, their erstwhile ally had been no help in unravelling the mystery.

The consequence was that now there were no answers, right when Orange Star needed them most. They could not even say to what extent Black Hole was truly a nation, not with any certainty. Most assessments compared them to a militia group or a private army, but whatever the theory, there was no proof. All they had to go on was guesswork and supposition, based on the gaps in their knowledge rather than the evidence. As such it was difficult to even speculate what was behind this new offensive. For her part, Nell increasingly suspected that the answers lay in the events of the Second Great War. Perhaps even buried with Sturm himself. It was a disquieting thought in more ways than one.

Nell set the notion aside with a flicker of mild frustration. She had spent more than enough time mulling that particular problem already; there was nothing new to realise, at least not here, and not now. Instead she let her eyes roam around the War Room, her attention settling on the world map opposite. Small pinpricks of light in various colours signified the deployment of troops across the globe, from Omega Land to Brown Nebula, where an Allied Nations peacekeeping force occupied the ancestral capital of the fractured nation, and even Cosmo Land itself. By far the greatest concentration of lights was along the border between Orange Star and Blue Moon, where the map was lit up by uneven lines of bright blue and shining red.

It was an alarming reminder of the peril they found themselves in.

Ever since the President had refused to hand over the Turtle Islands, Blue Moon had stepped up its preparations to attack. Their so-called exercises had taken on a new urgency and scale, and Orange Star had responded in kind. They didn't have any other choice. As far as Nell could see, this was no mere game of brinksmanship. Olaf was fixated on attacking, that much was clear. War was inevitable. All that remained was for the first shot to be fired.

There was a sudden movement as President Hale lifted a briefcase onto the table and clicked open the latches. Both Nell and Sami watched as he thumbed through the case's contents, their attention drawn by the disturbance. Eventually the President found what he was looking for and lifted out a folder bearing the seal of the Orange Star Intelligence Agency.

Hale placed the file on the gleaming table with a curt nod. "I thought this might be of some interest to the two of you."

Nell swivelled the file around and took note of the title: Current Blue Moon Strategic Outlook. It was dated that morning.

"What is it, sir?" Sami asked.

"That, Commander Sami, is a report that was handed to me three hours ago. It sums up the opinion of this country's best analysts on the Blue Moon crisis."

"There are some answers in this?" Nell queried.

Hale offered her a rueful smile. "Answers are in short supply these days. However, there's some very solid conjecture in there, which is the next best thing."

Nell turned to the report's summary page and started reading. Almost immediately her delicate brow pinched and she looked sharply to the President. "Is this accurate?"

"We believe so, yes," he said.

"This is suggesting that Blue Moon is headed for a total collapse," Nell said, visibly shaken by the idea.

In the blink of an eye Sami's rigid façade fell, replaced by a look of complete shock. "What? How is that possible?"

Hale clasped his fingers together. "Well, I'm sure you know that Blue Moon has its fair share of problems. Their centralisation of power has led to widespread corruption and inequality, their economy is stagnant and they've been dealing with shortages of basic goods and falling living standards for some time."

"With all due respect, sir…" Sami shook her head. "We've heard talk like that before. Four years ago everyone thought Blue Moon was in decline, and that was why they were willing to work with us. They said that right up until Olaf's army crossed the border. How is this any different?"

"The answer is simple," Hale replied. "We suspect the rot has gone into overdrive following the damage done during the Second Great War. The rebuilding costs, rampant corruption, and continued increases in military spending have sent the whole system into a death spiral. Barring massive restructuring, we predict a complete collapse of their economy within three years."

Nell leant back, stunned. She was well aware that Blue Moon had its dysfunctional elements, but her understanding had been that they simply weren't that significant. Certainly not significant enough to affect the outcome of a war. That this report suggested otherwise was confronting to say the least, even if it was only speculation.

"Then why try to start a war?" Sami asked, eyes hard as flint. "How could they possibly afford one?"

Suddenly the troop movements made sense to Nell. "They're aiming to conquer parts of our heartland," she realised. "That's why they've put so much emphasis on the central border – to strike at the plains south of the Alara Range. If Olaf could take over even a portion of our industrial centre, he might think he could use it to prop up Blue Moon."

Hale gave her another sad smile. "Keep reading, Nell. It gets worse."

Nell looked further through the summary, past the paragraphs dealing with Blue Moon's economic troubles, until she came to an analysis of their military capability. "The country was already struggling to keep up with Orange Star's advances in technology before the great wars," she read. "It's believed that only Sturm's aid put them on an equal footing during Olaf's invasion."

Sami couldn't help but snort at that.

"Following the losses sustained during the great wars…" Nell continued, pausing as she tried to digest what she was seeing. "The gap in strength between us is wider than it's been for two decades. Based on current trends, Orange Star will be twice as powerful as Blue Moon within five years."

"Which means that if they are going to attack, it's now or never," Sami surmised, shaking her head in disbelief. "It would still be incredibly risky for Blue Moon to go to war. They're likely to come away much worse than if they did nothing. Surely Olaf can see that. He's a lot of things, but he's not stupid."

Nell considered that. "Who's to say they're seeing things clearly? If things are this bad, Blue Moon might be desperate enough to try anything. Or perhaps their government is in complete denial." Something clicked into place as she spoke. "And Olaf might not be stupid, but we all know his temper can get the better of him. So by the time you factor in the Lash situation…"

"He might not need much convincing," Sami finished.

Nell smiled a little. "Exactly."

A look of disgust rippled across Sami's face like a shiver. "Damn."

"Damn indeed, Commander Sami," the President said. "And damn Black Hole, for that matter."

Sami looked puzzled. "Sir?"

Hale chuckled to himself. "It all comes back to Black Hole in the end, doesn't it? They've shattered the balance of power that existed for thirty years. Four great powers, all more or less equal since the Cataclysm, all able to keep each other in check. Everything safe and familiar, everything we thought we knew… it's all gone out the window, and we're still waiting to see how the pieces will fall."

"It could be much worse," Nell observed. "Orange Star sustained relatively light damage in the Second Great War. That puts us in a much better position than anyone else."

"Maybe that's why Black Hole's targeting us," Sami said. "We're the biggest threat."

All three of them fell quiet. Sami's statement had been little more than idle speculation, but there was a certain logic to it. There were worse explanations for why, as of yet, no other nation had been attacked by their mysterious enemy.

A series of sharp electronic sounds rang out through the room. At one of the side stations, a technician turned to face the head of the table.

"Mr. President, sir, the first transmission's coming in," he reported.

Hale gave a single nod. "Secure all incoming signals and put it through."

Nell took a deep breath to compose herself, setting any lingering thoughts aside. At the far end of the room, the main screen switched to a video feed. The picture coming through showed a severe woman with a bob of iron grey hair and sagging jowls, seated at an ornate desk and flanked by four men in suits. She was the head of the Green Earth government and the men, Nell assumed, were either top aides or cabinet ministers.

"Madam Chancellor," Hale greeted her. "It's good to see you."

"Mr. President." The Chancellor's voice was strong and rigid like her bearing.

Other signals began to come through in a series of beeps and pings, rerouted to the large monitors along the side of the War Room. One screen showed Max and Rachel standing in front of the rough canvas of a military tent. Another brought an image of Andy out in the open, the imposing silhouette of the Alara Range rising in the background behind him.

This was far more than a meeting of Orange Star's commanders, however. A third screen showed Eagle on the bridge of his flagship. On a fourth monitor was Drake, offering a wide smile as a greeting to the conference. Standing beside him was a tall woman in a heavy green suit, her bright red hair cropped short in a pixie cut. One hand rested on her hip, and her expression was confident and determined.

"Well then," Hale said, "it looks like we're all here. Shall we get started?"

"Indeed," the Chancellor replied. "I believe we have much to discuss."

"We should begin with the most pressing matter," Eagle cut in. "Black Hole."

The Chancellor nodded. "I have reviewed your proposal, Commander Eagle. Do you agree with his suggested course of action, Commander Drake?"

"Aye, that I do," Drake answered. "Black Hole's made their intentions clear as a fine summer's day. They might be focused on Orange Star now, but they're never going to leave any of us in peace." He turned to the tall woman beside him. "What do you think, Jess?"

"Black Hole is like a weed," Jess said. "If we don't rip them out, they'll just keep growing, spreading, and coming back. The way I see it, this only ends when they're completely destroyed."

The Chancellor gave another nod. "I agree. It is clear to me that we are in a war for our survival. Black Hole must be stopped." She paused. "This latest resurgence has taken us all by surprise. Tell me, Mr. President, what is the nature of this new threat? Are we dealing with a remnant still loyal to Von Bolt, some sort of splinter faction, or something else?"

"Nell, I think you're best equipped to answer this one," Hale said.

"For the time being it remains something of an enigma," Nell hedged. "However, what clues we do have are all telling the same story. What's more, following the latest incident, we have an idea of who's behind this."

A thoughtful look came over Drake's face. "The woman named Flare. Your report said she spoke directly to Andy, didn't she?"

"But there was no recording of the conversation," Eagle added, a sharp edge to his voice. "And we all know that Andy is not the most reliable witness."

On his monitor Andy raised an eyebrow, taken aback. "Um, Eagle? I'm right here."

For the first time since the conference began Sami stirred to life, her eyes locking onto the image of Eagle's face.

"Don't be an idiot, Eagle," she snapped. "You can't have forgotten that Black Hole uses heavily encrypted signals. Trying to save data from them is nearly impossible."

"I don't forget anything, Sami," he responded, eyes narrowing.

A wry twist appeared on Sami's lips. "Really? You could have fooled me."

Nell felt a flash of unease. She didn't know the intimate particulars of what had transpired between Eagle and Sami, but she had observed enough over the past few years to make an educated guess. As Commander-in-Chief it was an unofficial part of her job to know what was going on in the lives of her COs. Sami was private at the best of times, but ever since that meeting with Eagle in the capital… well, some mysteries were easier to decipher than others. Nell felt a brief moment of despair as she considered the implications. The last thing they needed was discord of any kind between their two countries. Already Eagle had crossed his arms and was glowering at the camera, while Sami made no attempt to disguise her look of utter contempt.

Nell cleared her throat. She needed to defuse this tension before it could become a point of conflict.

"Andy has my complete confidence," she said in a firm voice. "Without him, the world would be a very different place. Besides, everything he reported to me about Flare fits with the picture that's forming."

Drake nodded in understanding. He at least seemed to recognise the need for cooperation, which was hardly surprising. Word had spread even to other countries of his reputation as a peacemaker between Green Earth's COs.

"How much do we know about this Flare, Nell?" Drake asked, perfectly calm.

"Very little, I'm afraid." Nell turned to the next screen. "Andy, why don't you tell us again what Flare had to say?"

Andy shrugged. "Sure, if you want. She didn't say much, though. Just that something was coming and it had to be this way. She said I was at the centre of it all for some reason. It didn't really make sense." He frowned. "It was strange. Flare almost seemed sad about fighting, and she said we hadn't left her any choice."

Eagle let out a short bark of laughter. "Trust a Black Hole commander to make such pitiful excuses."

"That can't be all there is to it," Rachel said, pursing her lips. "Andy, did Flare say anything else?"

Andy scratched at the back of his head. "I don't think… oh! There was one other thing. She said I beat her predecessor."

The Chancellor stirred at that. "I take it this woman was referring to Von Bolt?"

"Nah," Max replied. "Andy wasn't in Omega Land during the last war, so she can't have been talking 'bout that waste of skin, or any of the Bolt Guard for that matter."

"Max is right," Nell said. "All the evidence is telling us that this new threat has nothing to do with the Omega War. The units we've observed match those from the second war, and we know both Flak and Adder are a part of this. As for Flare…" she paused. "I believe we've gotten a look at Black Hole's new leader, and the predecessor she mentioned was Sturm. If you'll recall, it was Andy who took point during the final battle of the First Great War. He was directly responsible for Sturm's defeat there."

"Then what exactly are we dealing with?" The Chancellor asked.

"As I said, it remains a mystery for the moment," Nell replied. "My best guess is that this army was originally some sort of reserve force created by Sturm during the conflict in Macro Land. He probably planned to make use of it himself."

"But what's the connection between Sturm and Flare?" Jess asked. "Is she acting out of loyalty to him, or is she just another opportunist like Von Bolt?"

Nell forced a smile. "This is all guesswork, Jess. Either possibility could be the case, or neither. For all we know, Flare is Sturm's daughter."

"But this Flare is human," one of men standing beside the Chancellor interrupted, prompting an irritated glare from his superior. "And Sturm was…"

"An alien?" Hale finished with a wry chuckle. "Please. That's just tabloid gossip. It makes for a dramatic headline, but there's never been any proof of the theory."

"But – their weapons. Their troops–" the man continued, before the Chancellor raised a hand to cut him off.

"Black Hole's responsible for some incredible feats of science, no doubt about it," Rachel said. "But they've never really been any more powerful than we are. Don't you think an actual army from outer space would be more… sophisticated?"

"That's certainly my understanding, Commander Rachel," Hale agreed. "I've always been advised that Black Hole's distinctive equipment is a product of peculiar necessity and twisted genius, nothing more. We probably could have come up with similar tech if we really put our minds to it, but there's never been any need to do so. It simply isn't practical."

There was an air of finality about the way President Hale spoke that told everyone this particular line of conversation was not going to go any further. Judging by the way Green Earth's Chancellor was eyeing her talkative colleague, she shared the President's feelings. At least they could agree on that, Nell reflected.

After a moment's quick thought Nell straightened her posture and prepared to address the group. It was time to get the meeting back on track.

"No one's denying that there are still a great many unanswered questions," she said, "but one thing is clear: Black Hole is back. And after the last three wars, I think it's equally clear that they need to be found and finished, for good this time."

"Finding them might be the difficult part," Drake said, rubbing his round chin. "I've been trying to trace the movements of Flak's landing fleet, but I haven't seen much success. A good few of those ships seem to have come from the open ocean to the west, and some I've tracked to ports in Brown Nebula, but most of them simply appear out of nowhere."

"What?" Rachel exclaimed. "How is that possible? How could anyone hide an entire fleet in this day and age?"

"Invisible boats," Andy said eagerly.

A smattering of laughter went through the room. Sami rolled her eyes, while Nell allowed herself a bemused smile. They could all use a little levity right about now, though she doubted that had been Andy's intent.

Jess was one of the few who kept a straight face as the laughter died down, waiting for a chance to speak. "Black Hole's always had a talent for concealing their movements. I think we should be more focused on where this new army came from in the first place. If we can determine that, hopefully we can take out their means of production and end this quickly, or at least get a better idea of what we're dealing with."

Drake nodded. "You'll agree that should be our top priority then, Nell?"

"It should be," Nell said in a quiet voice, "but it isn't. Unfortunately, for now Orange Star's focus is elsewhere."

The mood of the conference darkened as everyone present realised exactly what Nell was referring to.

"The situation with Blue Moon," the Chancellor said, giving voice to what they were all thinking. "Is there no way to avert war?"

"We don't believe so," Hale replied.

"Not even if you handed over the prisoner?"

Nell's heart sank. She'd been afraid of this, the conditions that Green Earth might impose in order to guarantee further cooperation and maintain their alliance. It was all well and good for her and Eagle to agree what was right, but without the support of their governments it meant nothing.

The truth was that Orange Star needed this alliance. Their position was precarious. Nell was confident that they could win a war with Blue Moon, costly though it might be. Black Hole, on the other hand… their strength was far more difficult to judge. Orange Star had always managed to defeat them in the past, but not without great hardship and sacrifice, and they had never done so alone. Fighting two foes at once was perhaps more than they could handle. They needed allies, that much was painfully clear. The only thing left to determine was whether or not they could afford to deny Green Earth anything.

Hale seemed to be thinking along similar lines, judging by the stern look that deepened the lines on his brow. "I believe Lash is just the flashpoint here. This has gone too far for her life to make any difference."

The Chancellor hesitated before answering. "If there is even the slightest chance to avert a war…"

"You'd sacrifice her?" Rachel asked in an accusing tone.

"Hardly a sacrifice," Eagle muttered.

Hale's composure finally broke, and he could not suppress a scowl. "Madam Chancellor, let's not play this game. Let's be honest with each other. I'm sure your sources are saying the same things as mine: Blue Moon is in rough shape, and getting worse. Starting a war is a desperate play by hardliners out of touch with reality. At this point, nothing we can say or do will change Olaf's mind."

"Very well, Mr. President. I will be frank with you." The Chancellor paused and tapped her desk several times. "Green Earth has suffered badly. We are stable, and we will rebuild, but it will take us decades to recover from the damage Hawke wrought. We barely have the capability left to fight in a conflict abroad. Green Earth is no longer a great power."

There was silence as everyone in the meeting let that statement sink in. It was a truth they had all known, even if it was one that hadn't been articulated until now. The exact extent of the damage might have been unclear, but it was plain to see how badly Green Earth had been ravaged during the Second Great War. While Flak had launched foolish, easily curbed offensives, and Lash had dithered and switched objectives on a whim, Hawke had wasted no time in brutalising Green Earth's military and bringing half the country under his control. The scope of the devastation had been obvious long before the war ended, even before the tide had turned and Green Earth had begun to push back. None of which made it any less of a shock to hear the facts stated in such blunt terms.

Once again Nell found herself reflecting on her interview with Von Bolt, and the vile old man's appraisal of Hawke. During the second war, Hawke had been responsible for more destruction than anyone else in the last thirty years, all in pursuit of his own ends. And yet he had been willing to relinquish command and serve under Von Bolt. Why? It was another question Nell had found she could not answer, no matter how hard she tried. Every report on Hawke agreed that he was only concerned with his own power. Almost every report, Nell corrected herself. There had been one person who seemed to think that Hawke could be trusted.

"The question remains: how do we proceed from here?" Hale asked at last.

The Chancellor's expression gave nothing away, her lips pressed firmly together. "Black Hole poses an existential threat to us all. Our commanders are right. They must be destroyed, no matter what."

"Then we need to reaffirm our alliance," Nell pressed, as gently as she could.

A distant light came into the Chancellor's eyes, and she looked away. For a long moment there was only silence, before at last she shuddered and looked up. "Our two countries share the same ideals. The same commitment to democracy. If one nation is going to eclipse the others, we would rather it be Orange Star than Blue Moon, or even an imperial power like Yellow Comet." She paused for several seconds. "I am prepared to commit to a full alliance, and you will have all the help we can give."

Nell noted the Chancellor's exact words, and the hint of sadness in Drake's big brown eyes. "And precisely how much help is that?" She asked.

"Any diplomatic support Green Earth can give is yours," the Chancellor began.

"And what about military aid?" Max cut in. "How many troops are you gonna send us?"

Nell fought back the urge to wince. Beside her Sami was less successful at holding back one of her own. Tact was not Max's strongest quality, even if the question did need to be asked.

They were fortunate that the Chancellor did not seem to take offence. Her face was set in a look of grim resolve as she answered. "As of this moment, Commander Eagle and his independent battalion are assigned to combat duties in Orange Star. I am placing him under your command, Nell; use him wisely. I have only one condition."

"Name it," Hale said.

"Keep Green Earth as far away from a war with Blue Moon as possible. If conflict between us can be avoided, I must make every effort to do so."

Max had crossed his muscular arms, and even on the screen it was plain to see how unimpressed he was with this turn of events. He would never have even considered holding back aid from someone he had pledged to help; loyalty had always been one of the traits Max valued most. Nell knew this proposal must have seemed like something of a halfhearted gesture to him.

Nell herself did not consider it to be anything of the sort. Green Earth's military had its own numerous duties to attend to, and by the sound of it, they were already stretched thin. What they were offering was no small commitment. It was a compromise, but then such choices often were; with finite resources there were always hard decisions to be made. Nell knew that only too well. Her own post as Commander-in-Chief of the Orange Star Armed Forces did not always allow her the luxury of staying true to her ideals, much as she strove to do so. Sometimes, one's personal beliefs had to be compromised to do what was right for one's country. As such, Nell was fully aware that the Chancellor had to do what she thought was best for Green Earth. Whether or not the choice was correct was a matter for history to judge.

"We have an agreement, then," Hale said. "There are still plenty of details to work out, but as a starting point… I believe the terms of the Allied Nations Charter would be appropriate?"

"Yes," the Chancellor gave a solemn nod. "Yes, I believe they would."

"Very well," Hale agreed. "We'll be in touch. Orange Star thanks you for your support."

"And Green Earth for yours. Until next time, Mr. President."

"Until next time, Madam Chancellor." Hale's eyes moved over each of the various screens. "Commanders, thank you for your input. It's much appreciated."

The President's words brought a rush of smiles and nods from the assembled COs, though none could compare to the wide grin on Andy's face. Even Eagle, who had been glowering ever since his exchange with Sami, offered a respectful tilt of his head. Meanwhile the Chancellor signalled one of her aides, and the main connection was terminated, replaced by a static display. Hale nodded to the War Room's technicians to do the same, and one by one the signals dropped away until they were alone again.

The President clapped his hands together. "I think that went rather well."

"Agreed, sir," Nell said, and she meant it. "We couldn't have asked for more."

Hale leant in closer towards her. "Will it be enough?" He asked quietly.

"It's impossible to say." Nell hesitated. "If nothing else, it's a promising start."

"That's true." Hale stood. "Hopefully we can build on this momentum, and start building a wider coalition to fight Black Hole."

With a nod Nell acknowledged that. It was perhaps an optimistic view of the future, but at that moment, it felt well earned. Nell found herself overcome by a rising wave of elation, mixed with relief. She hadn't expected the conference would have such a positive outcome. In truth, she hadn't dared expect it. For months now Orange Star had seen itself become increasingly isolated. Even after Eagle's battalion had come to Sami's rescue, it had seemed as though international cooperation was a thing of the past. The danger of standing alone had been very much real, and it was accordingly no small victory to secure the alliance they needed. Perhaps more than anything, it was a reminder that not all they had fought so hard for during the past three years was lost. Not all the partnerships they had forged were gone; there was still some strength and unity in the face of the Black Hole threat.

There was still hope.

Chapter Text

Rachel dreamed.

In her slumbering mind she found herself looking out over a great desert, an endless expanse that spread like sickness beyond the horizon. High above, the sun cut through a sky that seemed to have been sapped of all colour, while the landscape below was cracked and barren. The desiccated remains of plant life dotted the sands, brown and twisted, and dried-up rivers ran across the ground like scars. There was no life here, not any longer, and what few clouds lingered no longer had the strength to cry.

Here, in the heart of Omega Land, Black Hole had taken everything, and left only death.

Black Hole. That was who they were fighting, Rachel knew. The enemy was advancing over the withered dunes in force, all manner of soldiers and vehicles drawing steadily closer. In her dreaming state Rachel had only a vague awareness of what was happening, but she knew that the Allied Nations line was not ready to meet the attack. She needed to send in their air support to engage the foe while they reformed.

The dream began to shift. Battle copters and jets appeared in the sky, all of them painted in a familiar blue scheme. The sky was alive again, and for a moment there was hope. There was hope, until the air force opened fire, and turned their destructive power upon the Orange Star forces below. Horror flooded Rachel as she realised the battle was lost. Frantic she turned about, searching for Sasha and Colin, searching for some explanation.

Instead she found only a woman bearing a pointed mess of scarlet hair, her face coated in ghostly white makeup. Kindle. Rachel had only the vague intuition that this was her doing, but for her unconscious mind, that was enough. She tried to run towards Kindle, only to find she could barely move. Lifting her feet had become an immense effort, and Rachel did not understand why. She didn't understand any of this at all. With a burst of panic Rachel felt herself sinking, falling towards the ground even as everything else began to fade away. The world swirled around her, turning to shadow, and soon nothing remained but that horrible, false laughter of Kindle's.

Rachel's eyes shot open. As she awoke the instinct to fight back against her enemy persisted, the adrenaline rushing through her body a parting gift from the nightmare. Several seconds passed before her foggy mind realised that she was not in the desert, but in her cot, and above was not the dry Omega Land sky, but the coarse canvas of her tent. Rachel closed her eyes. There was no battle, and Black Hole was not attacking. Little by little, she felt her whole body begin to relax. Everything was safe, at least for now.

Despite telling herself that, Rachel found she could not keep an anxious twist from her lips as she wriggled out of her sleeping bag. Every misleading instinct told her that something was wrong, and for a time she simply sat on the cot, staring straight ahead as she went over the dream again. It was still so vivid, so fresh in her mind. In some ways it felt more real than the world around her, almost as if she had never woken up at all.

Irritation flashed on Rachel's features, and she shot to her feet. It was only a dream, and there was no point in dwelling on it. She began to get dressed, determined to focus on what was here and now instead. Going through the physical motions of pulling her pants and jacket on was a welcome contrast to the surreal imagery of her dreams. Solid, and ordinary. Feeling a little more like herself, Rachel slipped her feet into her shoes and walked over to a bowl of water, set up on an end table next to her cot. She splashed some water on her face, letting the cool shock of the liquid against her skin anchor her in the present. It wasn't nearly enough to wash away the nightmare, but it was a start.

Once she had finished cleaning her face, Rachel drew in a deep breath to settle her nerves. What now? Brushing her hair. That was the next step in her morning routine, and so she lifted her hairbrush from where it sat by a small mirror and began to run it through her strawberry blonde locks. The simple rhythm of the brushstrokes was comforting somehow, a familiar practice in an increasingly unfamiliar world.

After a while she paused to look in the mirror, studying the shape of her hair. Ever since her encounter with Adder she had been making more of an effort to neaten her hair, wearing it straighter and further back. Unlike her sister, Rachel had never been one to spend much time on her hair and make-up, but of late she had tried to make herself just a bit more presentable. Rachel frowned as she examined her reflection. Thus far, her efforts had met with limited success.

She was still frowning at herself when a noise outside the tent startled her. Rachel looked around to see a huge shadow moving on the tent wall, its owner silhouetted against the warm glow of the morning sun.

"Hey," Max's deep voice called out. "You awake?"

"Yeah." She ran the brush through her hair one final time and set it aside. "Yeah, I'm up. Come in."

Rachel turned away from the mirror as Max stooped to enter the tent. He hadn't slept well either, by the look of him; Max's eyes were puffy, and there was a tight set to his broad jaw that spoke of a constant need to stay alert.

"Just got a transmission from your sister," he said with a nod of greeting. "There's a whole lot of activity on the other side of the border. It looks like Blue Moon's getting ready to invade."

For a split second Rachel froze. "How soon?"

Max shrugged. "Soon. Today, maybe tomorrow. Nell thinks within forty-eight hours."

Rachel could only stare at him, mute. Nausea began to creep into her stomach as she processed the news. Up until today, she'd been clinging to the hope that perhaps it wouldn't come to war, but Max's tidings had finally put an end to that. All she could think was that the warning shouldn't have come as this much of a shock. For months now Orange Star and Blue Moon had been set on this slow path towards disaster, unwilling or unable to turn away. The writing had been on the wall all that time, and still Rachel had hoped that something would change, that they could avert a terrible, pointless war. She'd been a complete fool, fixated on a delusional dream of peace when she should have been preparing for the inevitable conflict. Stupid, stupid girl, she thought bitterly. Nell would never have been so naive.

"You okay?" Max asked in a gentler voice.

Rachel started and looked up. Max had moved closer, and he was peering down at her with concern in his eyes. She put a hand to her forehead and with every bit of self-control she had tried to pull herself together. Now more than ever, her focus had to be perfect.

"I'll have to be." She forced an unsteady smile. "It sounds like we've got work to do."

"Ain't that the truth," Max said.

Rachel found she couldn't bear to look him in the eye. The apprehension on Max's face was plain to see, and she didn't want to recognise it. It was too uncomfortable a reminder of all she wanted to ignore, all she needed to ignore. Instead she directed her attention towards the large table beside them. The tent was set up both as Rachel's living quarters and a makeshift command office, and most of the available space was filled by the table. On its surface a map of the border region was spread out beneath an assortment of items including a radio, several pens, and her trusty red cap. Rachel let her eyes follow the contours of the territory as written on the map, reminding herself of the tactical situation. It was a welcome distraction. The tapestry of roads, rivers, and topographical lines was a maze in which she could easily lose her unwanted thoughts.

"Everything's in position," Rachel said, going over all their troop deployments again in her mind. "If they try to cross the bridge, they'll be in for a nasty surprise."

Max nodded in agreement. "Guess you'll take charge of that when the time comes, huh? That kinda thing isn't my strong suit."

"No kidding," she teased him.

In spite of everything, Rachel couldn't hide a playful smile. It was a welcome feeling, even at a time like this. Perhaps most especially at a time like this, it was an important reminder of what they were fighting for. Nevertheless, the feeling could not last. Much as she wished to hold on to it, Rachel's smile soon faded. She was too aware of the situation they were in, and further aware of how much depended on her being ready to face it.

"You've fought Blue Moon before, right?" Rachel asked. "Do you think this will be like last time?"

"I doubt it. Last time was a mess." Max stopped, and his bearing grew more pensive. "For a while there I thought we were getting along better with Blue Moon. The border skirmishes eased off, we were cooperating a bit, and then… then everything happened all at once, you know? Hachi retires and your sister gets the top job, Grit goes AWOL, Olaf takes command over in Blue Moon, and the next thing you know there are tanks rolling across the border."

"Things were really that bad?"

"Yeah. Olaf's invasion came outta nowhere. They were almost to the capital before we really started to push back." Max looked away. "This time, things'll be different. This time we're ready."

There was no denying that. As relations with Blue Moon had steadily worsened, Nell had done everything in her power to prepare for an invasion. If the fights to come did not go well, it would not be for lack of readiness on Orange Star's part. Nell had seen the truth of things, and so had Max. Rachel felt another surge of bitterness. She was the only one who had been blind.

Suddenly furious with herself Rachel turned away from the table. She'd always believed it was important to face one's mistakes, to learn from them, but in that moment she could hardly bear to contemplate just how stupid she'd been.

As she turned to face the tent's entrance, she caught sight of a captain approaching from outside.

"Commander Max, Commander Rachel…" the captain swallowed. "A Blue Moon soldier just crossed the bridge. Says his CO wants to talk face to face."

Max and Rachel exchanged a glance, needing no words to express their shared question. Who exactly wanted to talk to them? Would they find themselves confronting Olaf as he railed and blustered, or would it be Grit or Colin, desperately trying to find a way to avert this disaster? Rachel felt a surge of conflicting emotions. There was one other possibility they needed to consider.

"Max…" Her resolve faltered, but she forced her voice to hold firm. "What if this is a trap?"

He looked at her, the grim lines around his eyes uncomfortably prominent. "You think we're gonna get taken hostage the minute we step out on the bridge?"

"Maybe." Rachel gave a small shrug. "Or worse. I don't know. I don't want to believe Blue Moon would do something like that, but I never thought things would go this far in the first place."

Max shook his head. "They wouldn't risk it, Rachel. Attacking under a flag of truce like that, before a war even started… you start doing that sort of thing and soon there's no way for the fighting to end. Olaf's not a complete fool. He knows pulling a stunt like that would turn half the world against him."

"You're right. You're right!" Rachel rubbed her temples. "Maybe this is just stressing me out so much I can't even think straight."

Max sighed, the sound a great shudder like rumbling stone. "Yeah, I know what you mean. Ever since we got out here, I can't stop thinking about this mess. 'Bout how they could do this. I mean, Olaf I kinda get, but Grit…"

Rachel thought back to the conversation they'd had while she was in the hospital, and what Max had told her about his friendship with Grit. That was another truth Rachel couldn't believe she had missed. She'd noticed how close the pair of them seemed in Omega Land, and yet somehow never thought too deeply about why. She knew first hand how much of a difference it made to face danger alongside someone who understood you, someone you trusted completely. Fighting the person you shared that kind of bond with was almost unthinkable. How much of the stress visibly weighing upon Max was because he might soon be going to war with the man who had once been his best friend?

She forced her thoughts away from that precipice with a wrench of will. If this went badly, they were all going to be fighting former friends. Far greater problems demanded their focus, and there was no room for hesitation or regret.

"So what do you reckon?" Rachel asked. "Should we do this?"

Max let out another long sigh. "I don't think we have much choice."

She nodded, lips pursed tight. "Alright. Then let's go."

Max turned to the captain, who was still waiting by the tent's entrance. "Signal Blue Moon that we agree to the meet. Commander Rachel and I are gonna hear them out. If anything happens to us, stick to the plan."

"Yes sir."

As the captain vanished into the brightness of the morning, Rachel merely stared at the map, the set of her lips growing ever tighter. Coming to a decision felt no better than trying to make one, and the fear of what was to come had only grown. Max stretched his arms and yawned. Rachel looked to him, her attention drawn by the motion, and knew from his troubled frown that he felt the same way. Their eyes met, and as if by some unspoken agreement they began to move, making their way out of the tent and into the valley beyond.

The bright rays of the morning sun were harsh on Rachel's eyes as she stepped into the open air. For one brief moment she was struck by a burst of panic as the sun rising over the mountains reminded her of the pale sun that had hung above the desert in her dreams, but she pushed the feeling away. It was only a dream, she told herself again, and the desert sun was only a memory.

It took almost a minute for her vision to adjust to the light, and take in the scene before her. The border military camp was sprawled around the roadside as it disappeared into the rugged mountains to the west. In the opposite direction, the vast silver arch of the Portal Bridge spanned the width of a great lake, passing over stumbling slopes dusted with scrub growth and wild grass before it soared out across the water. Far below, the stony shore marked the border between Orange Star and Blue Moon. Rachel shivered as she looked to the east. With the morning light behind it, the bridge's pylons cast long shadows like black fingers reaching out to claim their souls.

Max and Rachel walked to the road and boarded a waiting APC. As he prepared to close the hatch, Max slapped a hand on the transport's side and nodded to the driver.

"Let's head out."

The engine rumbled to life, and the vehicle began to shudder and move. Trapped in a small metal box, Rachel felt her heartbeat begin to rise again. Anything could have been happening outside and they'd never even know. She closed her eyes. Why on earth was she so nervous? Military transports had never bothered her before, no matter how cramped or uncomfortable they were. She opened her eyes as a jolt ran through the APC. Maybe it wasn't about the vehicle, but where it was taking her. The thought seemed obvious in hindsight, but somehow the understanding only made Rachel feel worse.

The transport slowed. Rachel looked up in alarm. Even though she'd been fully aware how short a distance the APC had to travel, it still seemed too soon. The thought was almost amusing, in a twisted sort of way. Too soon was the only time there was for situations like this.

"Showtime," Max muttered as they came to a halt.

He opened the hatch and stepped out into the morning sun once more. As she followed him Rachel saw the wide lines of the bridge, the barriers at the side… and there, just in front of their APC, a pale orange line that stretched the width of the road. It marked the border. A few metres beyond that was another line, in blue this time. Two familiar figures in fine uniforms waited not far past the blue line, standing next to an idling car.

Colin and Sasha.

Rachel glanced at Max. He could have been carved from granite, his mouth rigid and his eyes oddly flat. It was the right attitude, she reflected. Times like these called for a display of strength. Rachel just hoped she was up to the task.

"Commander Rachel," Sasha greeted her, voice cool and polite as always. "Commander Max."

The two Blue Moon COs stepped forward, but did not move past the line at their feet.

Max crossed his arms as they moved to stand opposite their counterparts. There were only a scant few metres of tarmac and a series of painted lines between them now, but they might as well have been an entire ocean.

"What the hell do you two want?" Max growled.

Colin flinched. "Max, we– we just want to talk."

"Then talk," Rachel shot back.

"Rachel, please," Sasha said, her eyes giving nothing away. "Surely we can at least be civil."

"Civil?" Max barked. "Civil? Is that what you call this?" He waved a hand at the army massed on the Blue Moon side of the border. "Man, we're so far past civil you can't even see it in the rear mirror."

"Max–"

"Just tell us what you want, Sasha," Rachel snapped.

For a moment Sasha said nothing. She looked away, something odd flickering over her face. Some buried emotion trying to make itself seen, or perhaps it was just a trick of the light.

"As you wish," she said. "First, I must inform you that at 0800 hours this morning, Blue Moon's troops will cross the border and move to liberate the territory that is rightfully ours."

"0800? That's twenty minutes from now," Rachel blurted out.

"Correct." Sasha gave a single, stiff nod. "The reason we're here is to ask you to withdraw before then. Agree to our demands and perhaps we can avoid unnecessary bloodshed."

Sasha's voice was brittle, and she was staring at the line of blue paint at her feet. She sounded like a woman who was being forced to read from a script at gunpoint, Rachel thought. She felt a pang of doubt, and for a moment wondered if perhaps there was more to this than she realised.

The feeling did not last long. Any sympathy Rachel could muster for this ghost of a girl she had once called her friend was fragile at best. All of her anger and sorrow soon rose to smother it. Even if Sasha didn't like what she was saying, she was still making the decision to say it. There were a dozen paths she could have chosen that didn't lead to this moment, and Sasha hadn't taken any of them. She was complicit in this. They both were.

Rachel started at a sudden noise to her left. Max was laughing, a deep, hearty chuckle that seemed completely out of place with what they had just been told. Rachel could barely believe what she was seeing. They were about to face an invasion force, and Max was laughing. He was laughing, but there was no mirth in it. The laughter was somehow wrong. Max was so tense, the muscles in his neck drawn so taut they looked ready to snap, and as Rachel watched him more closely, she could see the anger simmering behind his eyes. She'd never seen him like this before, and she hadn't realised just how much it was hurting him to see their friends and allies betray them.

"You know that's never gonna happen," Max said, still chuckling. "You two are out of your freakin' minds if you think we'll agree to anything like that."

Sasha opened her mouth to speak, then stopped, apparently thinking better of it. Instead it was Colin who broke the silence, grim resolve writ on his awkward features.

"Max… we're not going to back down. We have to do what's right for Blue Moon."

Max snorted and shook his head. "I don't believe it. You're really going along with this, Colin? After everything we've been through together, you're gonna turn on your friends?"

Colin blinked several times, before he drew himself up to his full height. "I'm going to do my duty, and do what's asked of me. I– I serve my country, Max. Same as you."

"You keep telling yourself that, kid," Max said. "Maybe it'll be a comfort when you walk off that cliff you're heading for." His lip curled in contempt. "Coward."

"That's enough!" Sasha's eyes flashed with indignation, and all of a sudden she looked alive again. "I understand you are upset, Max, but I will not allow you to insult my brother."

Max turned on her with a sneer. "You're no better, acting all superior, standing here spouting this crap. I can't believe I ever found you attractive."

Sasha was once again speechless, reduced to staring at Max in dismay. Rachel was more than a little stunned herself, for that matter. She had never seen Max speak to anyone like this, not even Hawke and Lash. The venom in his voice was overwhelming, a volatile fury that coloured every word. Max had always been blunt, but this was a side of him she had not seen before.

"You wanna scrap with us?" Max shouted. "Bring it on! We both know Blue Moon's no match for Orange Star. Last time we went up against each other, you lost. This time won't be any different."

"Don't underestimate our resolve!" Colin said, but his voice sounded shrill rather than strong.

Max's eyes suddenly went ice cold. "Fine," he muttered. "We'll settle this on the battlefield." He started to turn, then stopped and looked back at the siblings. "One other thing. When you see Grit, you give him a message for me. You tell him I'm comin', and this time nothing's gonna stand in my way. This time… no forgiveness."

With that Max walked away. He didn't even wait to see how his parting words had been received. Rachel was about to follow when something made her pause. Her face pinched with emotion as she looked Sasha directly in the eye.

"Jake," she said quietly.

At the sound of the name, Sasha gave an odd twitch.

"He trusted you," Rachel continued. "He– he liked you. How can you betray him like this?"

Sasha did not reply. There was silence as a single tear ran down her cheek. It was the only sign of life that was left in Sasha, for she had grown still and pale as porcelain. Then she turned her back to the border, walking away with Colin in tow, and the moment was past.

It was over. It was done. Their destiny was decided, and no amount of tears could change it. Rachel felt a strange sensation reverberating through her body as she headed back to the APC. A cold stillness, a sort of dizzying numbness, spreading from her heart as the awful truth etched itself deeper with every passing second.

This was the day they went to war with Blue Moon.

Neither of them spoke during the drive back to the camp. Max sat hunched to one side of the transport, alternating between wringing his hands together and clenching them into fists. Rachel couldn't begin to imagine what he must have been feeling anymore than she could decipher her own swirling emotions. It was enough of an effort to keep herself upright as the shock of what had just happened pulsed through her veins. All Rachel could hold onto was the thought that it shouldn't have been this way, that she shouldn't have been so shocked. She should have been prepared for this.

For a second time that morning the APC came to a stop. Max got to his feet, still crouching to fit his massive frame in the cramped transport, and met her eyes at last.

"I'll take charge of things down here," he said. "You good?"

Rachel let out an incredulous snort. "No."

"Yeah, me either."

He went quiet. The anger churning in Max's eyes ebbed just enough for Rachel to glimpse something much heavier beneath before he blinked and looked away.

"Well, we'd better get movin'," he said, getting out of the APC and closing the hatch.

The transport got underway, quickly gathering speed. Alone once again, Rachel kept her mind occupied by going over the plans she and Max had devised. All the preparations had been made well beforehand, and she knew every detail almost by heart. Now it was simply a matter of putting their strategy into action.

The APC lurched sideways, and Rachel felt her weight shift as the vehicle rounded a sharp bend in the road. She had spent so long staring at maps of the area that the turn was like a signpost, telling her exactly how far there was to go. Perhaps a minute more passed before the ride became steadily rougher. Rachel knew that meant they had left the road. Almost there. There had scarcely been enough time for her to process the thought before the APC reduced speed and coasted to a standstill.

Rachel emerged from the APC and stepped into a small clearing, ringed with tall trees that had begun to shed their leaves in earnest. A group of rocket trucks were assembled there, their orange livery hidden beneath all manner of camouflage. They had done everything they could to conceal their movements from Blue Moon. Hopefully it had been enough.

An officer nodded to Rachel as she arrived, jogging over to meet her.

"Everything's ready?" She asked.

He nodded. "Yes ma'am."

"Right. Have all launchers hold their fire until I give the signal."

Rachel glanced at the time. 7:58. On the other side of the lake the ground seemed to ripple and move as the Blue Moon troops went about their own preparations. As she watched the mobilising army, Rachel was reminded of the dream that had haunted her that morning. It was all so similar. She almost could have convinced herself that she was still asleep, and that none of this was real. Almost.

"Incoming signal from the camp," a soldier called out. "Blue Moon tanks are crossing the border."

There it was. The news was not only a declaration of war, but also the final nail in the coffin of the Allied Nations. The slow death of unity was complete. For the space of a single heartbeat, Rachel did not move. In that time it felt as if a whole year was passing before her eyes. Everything they had tried to build had been swept away, and nothing remained except for the simple, brutal reality of war. Blue Moon was nothing more than the enemy now.

Rachel did not hesitate. She knew what she had to do.

"All units, fire!" Rachel shouted.

The distant sounds of gunfire and explosions were already beginning to reach them as she gave the order. All around the mountains there were flashes of fire as her rocket units began firing from their camouflaged positions. Rachel lifted a hand to shield her eyes from the sun and squinted to the east, following the massed volley of rockets as they converged on the silver arch of the Portal Bridge. More explosions echoed out, deeper this time, and black smoke billowed into the sky, but the bridge still stood.

Rachel was about to give the order to reload and fire another volley when she noticed a quiver run through the metal. Even at a distance she could see the convulsions running through the bridge, the pylons beginning to rattle and vibrate. The blue shapes attempting to cross began to swerve erratically as the shaking grew worse, and then the whole structure simply toppled sideways, falling into the lake with a seismic splash. Rachel wasn't sure if she sensed a tremor in the earth as the bridge collapsed, or if the faint shudder was only in her mind. Either way, it made no difference.

The Portal Bridge was gone, along with everything on it.

There was no time to process what had just happened. Any position this close to the border was far too vulnerable to enemy strikes, and by firing on the bridge, they had revealed their locations. They needed to relocate and they needed to do it fast, before Blue Moon could retaliate. Rachel gave the signal to withdraw, ordering the rocket units to pull back to the places she and Max had settled on days beforehand. The difficult terrain was well suited to fighting a defensive battle, and from their fortified positions, they would be able to exact a heavy toll on anyone who tried to violate Orange Star territory. Months of quiet preparation were about to be put to the test. If they could weather the initial assault without giving too much ground, or suffering too many casualties, any momentum Blue Moon had would evaporate. Their main strategy revolved around outlasting the enemy. And if they could manage that...

Rachel inhaled deeply. It was pointless trying to anticipate the course of a war that had only just begun. As of this moment she and Max had one objective, and that was retreating to safer ground. With no small effort Rachel forced herself to concentrate on that task. She knew there was nothing to be done but focus on the mission, and take things one step at a time, but it brought her little solace. The world was changing before her very eyes, and there was no escaping the horrible truth.

This was the day they went to war with Blue Moon.

Chapter Text

Dawn had found the morning cold and gloomy when it reached Green Earth's capital, little able to contest the chill brought on by the impending winter. As light began to seep back into the sky after another night, the urban landscape glinted with dew and shivered beneath its shroud of mist. It had been three days since Blue Moon launched its invasion of Orange Star, and as yet there was no sign in the capital that the world had changed. The city had awoken in the early hours just as it always did, and life continued much as it had before. To most, the war's outbreak was only a distant concern, if it even registered at all. A faraway problem for other countries to resolve on their own soil. Even in light of Green Earth's newly reaffirmed alliance with Orange Star, most people considered the invasion to be merely one more chapter in a long and bitter rivalry. It was regrettable – tragic, even – but the overwhelming mood was that ultimately, it was a war that did not and should not involve Green Earth.

The war did not seem distant to Drake as he entered one of the city's many steel and glass towers. It had been on his mind ever since the news first broke, and he could not shake the feeling that it was all eerily familiar. He pulled his hands out from his coat pockets as he came to a security checkpoint, rubbing them together to ward off the cold. Beneath his blue coat, it was obvious that his shirt was not quite large enough to cover his round belly. Strict formality was not a quality Drake had ever been known for. Nor was he one to let the world dampen his spirits, no matter how bleak things might appear, and he made sure to smile warmly at everyone he passed. As he strolled through the open atrium on the building's ground floor, he even began to sing to himself.

"Blow ye winds of the morning! Blow ye winds hi ho!"

Two office workers in uniform walked by him with nothing more than a pair of polite nods. Drake's singing voice was a familiar presence around Green Earth's military headquarters, but it was rarely a welcome one. Enthusiasm could only do so much to compensate for an uneven pitch.

"Blow ye winds of the morning! Blow my love to me!"

Drake stopped singing after he passed the two officers, more because he had forgotten the next line than out of respect for anyone else's ears. He settled instead for humming the tune to himself as he continued down a hallway, the glass walls giving way to solid metal as he moved into a subterranean part of the building.

The headquarters was built into a hill, and from outside had the appearance of a glass sail emerging from the earth. To an outside observer, it looked no different from any of the other ultramodern towers that dotted the capital. The building's fragile exterior was deceptive, however. While the upper floors were filled by office space, below ground level a reinforced complex burrowed deep beneath the surface, housing control rooms, command systems and other more sensitive areas. Green Earth's old military headquarters had been badly damaged in the Second Great War, and in the year after, the government had accelerated its plans for a state of the art replacement. The result was a command centre that was the envy of the entire world. Its innermost sections doubled as a series of bunkers that could be completely sealed off from within, becoming nigh impervious to external threat. It was a fortress in which Green Earth's senior military staff could survive virtually any disaster, and coordinate aid to the outside world as best they could.

The extreme security of the building was the last thing on Drake's mind as he descended down a wide staircase, moving ever deeper into the bowels of the earth. The air tasted different down here, stale and filtered, and the sounds of distant conversations soon subsided, replaced by the steady hum of machinery. It was an environment Drake was still getting used to. He would have much preferred to work outside, somewhere he could feel the sun on his skin and smell salt on the breeze, but his duties as one of Green Earth's senior commanders rarely allowed him such indulgences.

Drake reached the bottom of the stairs and emerged into a solid concrete corridor. It had no turns, and led only to a reinforced metal door flanked by two guards in heavy greatcoats.

"Morning, Commander," one guard greeted him as he approached.

"Morning," Drake answered with a smile. "Anyone else below decks yet?"

"Commanders Jess, Angel, and Matt are all in, sir."

Drake's eyebrows raised in mild surprise. "All three of them? Doesn't anyone find time to sleep any more?"

That got a small laugh out of the guard. "I couldn't tell you, sir."

A round plate at the centre of the door gave a hiss and began to rotate as the internal lock was released, triggered by Drake's approach. A dull rumble soon reverberated from inside the thick walls. After several seconds the door began to slide upwards, a row of massive metal teeth visible at its base. Once it was fully open Drake walked over the boundary and continued to the end of the concrete corridor, where he went through a plain black door and into another world.

Green Earth's central command centre was a large, circular hall occupied primarily by a ring of grey desks. The room's lighting was soft, and its atmosphere dark; the command centre was lit as much by a vast array of computer monitors as it was by the strips of warm bulbs mounted on the ceiling. The walls were finished with false wood panelling, the pattern broken only by a series of black metal doors leading to other parts of the facility, and a row of three giant screens almost as tall as the room itself. The scene was completed by an elegant conference table sitting in the middle of the hall, surrounded by a set of expensive black leather chairs. It was a facility built not just for efficiency, but for comfort, and it had soon become a second home to Green Earth's COs.

"I see this ship's already crewed," Drake exclaimed as he stepped inside the hall.

Several pairs of eyes turned to face him. Most soon returned to their work, but those belonging to a tall woman with short cropped red hair instead rolled skyward.

"You're late again," she said with a toss of her head.

"Seems you're early, rather," Drake shot back with a grin. "I'm starting to think you never leave this place, Jess."

Jess gave a knowing smile and turned back to her work. "Well, with Eagle away someone has to pick up the slack around here."

Drake wandered over to where Jess sat in the outer ring, working at one of the desks. "So how goes the work? Smooth sailing or choppy waters?"

"A bit of both," Jess replied. "I've been drawing up contingency plans in the event this war between Blue Moon and Orange Star spills over into our territory. Eagle's gotten us into this mess, and now we all have to deal with it."

Drake waved his hand in an airy fashion. "And the Chancellor and parliament have backed him. We're taking a strong stance against Black Hole. Where do you think the money for this fancy new berth came from?"

"I'm not much for politics," Jess muttered, still partly focused on what she was doing. "I just deal with what's in front of me, and deal with it well."

"Careful, Jess," Drake said in a wry voice. "Keep up that talk and Eagle won't be the only one around here with a head in the clouds."

She snorted. "Please. That man's ego is so big it needs its own pair of goggles. I don't think a healthy bit of confidence puts me on the same level."

Drake pursed his lips as he considered that. Confidence was nothing new to Jess; for as long as Drake had known her, she had been sure of herself and her abilities. It was only since the end of the last war that he had noticed a shift in her attitude. Ever since she returned from Omega Land, Jess had seemed more assertive, more aggressively confident, and Drake wasn't entirely sure the change was for the better. It was difficult to appreciate the danger posed by one's limitations if you could no longer recognise they were there.

Still, he thought, Jess had a valid point. Eagle was far worse in that regard, and no great harm had ever come of it. Besides, during the last two wars Jess had performed remarkable feats as a commander. It was only natural that her attitude reflected her accomplishments. Drake's expression relaxed as he decided that conclusion was satisfactory. Jess had more than earned the right to give herself a few laurels.

"How bad is it?" He asked, lowering his voice. "The invasion, that is. What are the latest tidings?"

"The truth?" Jess leaned back in her chair and took the opportunity to stretch her arms. "It's bad. It's been seventy two hours since Blue Moon started this war, and the available evidence suggests they've made virtually no progress."

"And that evidence is reliable?"

"The intelligence Orange Star's shared with us corroborates what our own sources are saying," Jess said. "Blue Moon has thrown everything they can spare into the invasion. For now, the defences are holding, and Blue Moon's taking heavy casualties, but there's no sign they're going to let up any time soon."

"Better than them overrunning Orange Star, I suppose," Drake remarked in a resigned tone. "What's your take on the situation?"

Jess straightened up again and clasped her hands together. Any levity she had expressed whilst bantering with Drake was gone now, replaced by professional dispassion. It was a reassuring sight. Jess was gifted with a keen intellect, and she had always excelled at analysing information. If there was one person who Drake trusted to make sense of the war, it was Jess.

"Strategically speaking, things are at a stalemate. Blue Moon's initial assaults have failed, and the only real advantage they have is superior numbers. Orange Star's troops are better equipped, better prepared, and better motivated, but they need to keep large reserves back in case of further Black Hole attacks." Jess paused and took a short breath. "I'd expect Blue Moon to pull back and regroup, then launch a more focused assault now that they've got a better idea what they're dealing with. What happens next will depend on how those offensive actions play out."

Drake sighed. "I suppose it's too much to hope Olaf might reconsider all this, now that things aren't going his way."

"I'm afraid so," Jess said. "This isn't some border skirmish or local dispute. For all Olaf's talk about justice and reclaiming territory, it's hard to see how this ends with anything less than the total conquest of Orange Star… or a complete rout of the Blue Moon military."

Drake's expression was grim as he considered that. "That's certainly what everyone seems to think. And whatever happens, it only weakens both countries just as Black Hole's surfacing again. It all seems a bit too convenient to me."

Jess nodded in agreement. "Like I said, it's bad. There is one bit of good news, however."

"Oh?"

Jess took note of Drake's hopeful expression and offered an apologetic look. "Don't get too excited," she said. "Simply put, most experts on Blue Moon believe that the majority of their combat capable forces are now committed to this invasion. Some are speculating that they're actually overstretched."

Drake frowned. "I don't see how that's good news."

"It's not," Jess admitted. "But it does suggest that Blue Moon's capacity to open a second front with us is limited, if not nonexistent."

"And I suppose that's a possibility that we have to consider now," Drake said.

He lifted a hand and began to rub his eyes. Truth be told, it was not an entirely unexpected development. Relations between Blue Moon and Green Earth had always been built on trade and mutual benefit rather than any real common ground. They had rarely been outright hostile; the only armed conflict between them in the last thirty years had been a handful of border disputes several decades ago, but their relationship had never managed to grow beyond lukewarm in the years since. At least, not until the outbreak of the Second Great War. Shared suffering and a common enemy had united the world in a way that no one had dreamt was possible, and soon after, the formation of the Allied Nations had changed everything. A year ago, the prospect of war between them would have been unthinkable, but that accord was well and truly dead. The world had changed, and there was no sense in pretending otherwise.

"While we're on the subject," Jess said, "you should probably see this. It was broadcast last night on Blue Moon's state television channel."

Jess turned back to her computer and began navigating through a series of menus. Drake watched while she opened a video player and pulled up a recent file. Jess set the video to full screen, and they found themselves confronted by a slightly pixelated image of Olaf. The leader of Blue Moon was seated at the head of a long table and dressed in a formal uniform, an array of gleaming medals lurking beneath his great brown beard. By the look of it he was in the middle of some sort of speech or meeting. Now there's a man who's seen better days, Drake thought to himself. Despite the fine accoutrements he wore, Olaf looked distinctly haggard and weary, and there were dark rings under his beady eyes.

With a final click Jess hit play, and the image sprang to life.

"I, for one, welcome this announcement from our foes," Olaf said, every bit as gruff as Drake remembered. "Now is the time for courage and bold deeds, a time when we will see who among our friends are true and who, like those addled fools in Green Earth, wish to throw their lot in with Orange Star!"

Drake couldn't help but wince.

"This treacherous pact of theirs, this new Allied Nations, changes nothing. I promise you that Blue Moon will be restored to glory, and any who stand against us shall be met with our full fury!"

The video reached its end and Olaf froze again, finger raised to emphasise his point.

"That was Blue Moon's response to the announcement of our alliance with Orange Star," Jess added.

"So I gathered," Drake said. "Olaf doesn't seem too happy, does he?"

Jess shook her head. "You really do have a gift for understatement, you know that? It was practically a declaration of war." Her tone turned serious. "I've put our forces on high alert along the border, and I've got most of our intelligence division watching Blue Moon's troop movements. If they do try anything, we'll be ready."

"And in the meantime, Black Hole's free to move unnoticed in the shadows," Drake observed. "A bit too convenient indeed."

"I agree," Jess said. "Unfortunately, there's not much we can do about it."

"Hmm." Drake considered that for a moment, feeling suddenly rather tired despite the early hour. "I think I need a cup of coffee to lift my spirits."

Jess smiled. "I could use a break as well. Come on." She got to her feet. "There should still be some in the last pot."

Together the two of them walked around the outer ring of desks and went through one of the black doors. The hallway on the other side was plain concrete with metal pipes running along the ceiling, and the constant hum of machinery reverberated through the air. The main hub of Green Earth's command centre might have been comfortably furnished, but the rest of the complex was strictly utilitarian.

Drake and Jess made their way down the corridor until they came to a large, well kept kitchen – or, as Drake preferred to call it, the galley. The underground complex was equipped with a full suite of living quarters and amenities in addition to the military facilities, including a vast stockpile of food and other supplies. In the event the command centre needed to be sealed off from the outside world, those within could survive on their own for years. One peripheral benefit of this was that there was always an ample supply of coffee; a related drawback was that its quality was mediocre at best.

"Now there's a sight for sore eyes," Drake said as he saw a large pot of coffee sitting on the bench. He moved across the kitchen and began to pour out two cups.

"You might want to add a few spoons of sugar," Jess advised him.

"Why's that?"

"Matt made that pot." Jess said. "He might be capable when it comes to coastal operations, but his coffee is terrible. Trust me."

Drake knew better than to question Jess, and so he made sure to add two spoons of sugar to both mugs of coffee. Jess' cup he left black, the way she liked it, while for himself he added a measure of milk. The liquid was warm but not hot, and Drake did not hesitate to take a large swig from the mug. He closed his eyes as it went down, allowing himself the simple pleasure of enjoying his cup of coffee. It was important to enjoy the little things in life, especially in times like these. There would be plenty of opportunity to fret about their troubles later.

He was still savouring the warmth of the coffee when he heard the distinctive click of high heels on the concrete floor. Drake opened his eyes in time to see a slender waif of a woman appear at the doorway, her golden hair pulled back in a ponytail. She was peeking around the corner into the kitchen with a smile that was almost a smirk, holding something behind her back like a child keeping a secret.

"Commander Jess?" She asked, her voice high and melodic.

Jess' gaze locked onto the new arrival, her expression neutral. "Is there something I can help you with, Angel?"

"No ma'am, it's just that this came for you." Angel held out a thick yellow envelope. "I thought it might be urgent, that's all."

"I see." Jess set her coffee down on the table and accepted the envelope. "Thanks for bringing this to me."

Angel beamed a wide smile at her. "Of course." She turned to leave, giving Drake a respectful nod as she did. "Sir."

With that Angel was gone, leaving them with only the delivery and the sound of her receding footsteps. Jess did not speak again until the distinctive beat of Angel's high heels had faded entirely, her expression hard as stone.

"What do you make of her?" Jess asked.

A look of mild surprise came over Drake. "Who, Angel?"

Jess gave a curt nod and picked up her coffee again.

"She seems to be fitting in well enough around here," Drake said, "and I haven't found any fault with her work. I'd say our Angel's got the makings of a fine CO."

Jess grunted. "I'm not so sure."

"Why's that?"

"She's too… eager to please. She acts like a schoolchild, as if she's more concerned with getting a good grade than anything else. I'm not convinced she understands the seriousness of her new position, and frankly, I'm not sure she's fit for it."

"Well, that certainly is frank," Drake remarked, considering Jess' assessment. "Eagle has nothing but praise for her, and you know how high his standards are."

Jess snorted and glanced away. "I'm not convinced Eagle's judgement is sound in this case."

Drake did not reply. Instead he lifted his mug and took another large gulp of coffee. He wasn't prepared to admit it, but on that point, he and Jess were in complete agreement. Jess and Eagle were closer than they seemed, but they were hardly the kind of friends who shared their innermost thoughts with each other. She didn't know what had blossomed between Eagle and Angel. Had Eagle still been in Green Earth, their relationship would probably have grown too obvious to hide, but he was not, and so far as Drake could tell, no one was any the wiser.

For his part, Drake had no intention of revealing the secret. It was not his place to betray Eagle's trust, no more than it had been his place to pass judgement when first his best friend came to him and explained what had happened. That did not mean Drake approved of the way Eagle had handled matters, however. His situation was born of reckless passion rather than good sense, and Drake feared it would have unforeseen consequences, even beyond what Eagle had already done to Sami. The conference with Orange Star the week before had made it perfectly clear how much Sami had been hurt, and if there was one thing Drake was sure of, it was that Sami did not deserve to be spurned like that.

"You're quiet," Jess observed.

Drake shrugged. "Just thinking, that's all."

Jess ran a hand through her hair, tracing the yellow streak through the red. "You're not fooling me, Drake. I know that look. You've got an opinion on this, but you don't want to say it out loud. I'd rather you just got to the point."

"Alright, if you insist," Drake said. "It's just that I can't help but wonder if your feelings toward Angel have something to do with how tense things have been between you and Eagle."

Jess crossed her arms. "Eagle and I always fight. That's nothing new."

"No," Drake admitted, "but you two have been a lot worse lately. Things have been bad ever since you had that, ah, disagreement in Omega Land."

"How-" Jess cut herself off and scowled in annoyance. "Javier. That man has a big mouth."

"You know Javier. It's not in his nature to keep secrets."

Jess' scowl deepened, but she did not disagree. "So you heard."

"Aye, that I did."

"I suppose you think the same as Eagle? That I should have stepped in and made sure we left them to die in the first place?"

Drake's expression softened in sympathy. "I didn't say that, Jess. Although I'll admit I was surprised by how passionately you defended Lash. I thought you would have seen the worst of her, back when you waged a campaign to sink those battleships."

"I did." Jess hesitated, and Drake glimpsed a rare flash of uncertainty in her eyes. "But I also saw a broken child who was never even taught good table manners. Lash was just a weapon, as much as the machines she built. She was used by Sturm and she was used by Von Bolt. Even I can see that. I don't understand why Eagle can't."

"Eagle's not the sort to forgive easily," Drake said.

"As if he's never made a mistake?" Jess scoffed.

Drake gave an odd twitch and looked away. If only you knew, he thought. Drake didn't know to what extent Eagle considered the utter mess of things he had made with Sami to be a mistake, or if he even regretted his actions at all. It was not a conversation that had taken place; nor was it one that was likely to. For all that he would leap into danger without a second thought, Eagle had never been one to let any doubts or regret show, much less admit any serious fault. In that he was a great deal like his father, at least from what Drake had heard.

Drake swirled the last of his cooling coffee about in his mug. "You think that's what Lash's deeds, in Green Earth and elsewhere, amount to?" He asked. "A mistake?"

For a moment he saw doubt show on Jess' face, before with a shake of her head she banished it. "I'm not disputing what she's done. I just think that considering the circumstances, Lash deserves a second chance."

Drake downed the last of his coffee and sat the mug back by the machine. "That's the thing about second chances. They're not worth much if you aren't willing to change, and from what I hear, I'm not sure Lash is."

Jess went quiet. Drake could see her struggling to come up with a response; frustration flickered about her face, before with an irritated sigh she looked away.

"We should get back to work," she muttered.

It wasn't exactly the reply Drake had been hoping for. He wasn't sure if Jess agreed with him, or if she had even understood his point. She certainly didn't seem particularly receptive. That was understandable. It wasn't easy to accept that some things were simply outside one's control. Drake suspected that to Jess, who always did her best to tackle problems through hard work and determination, that was a difficult truth to accept. Oh well, Drake thought. He'd said his piece. What Jess did with it was up to her.

"So what's in that letter of yours?" He asked as they walked back into the main command centre.

Jess ignored him as she began to rip open the thick envelope, revealing a stack of assorted papers and files inside. Drake couldn't quite make out their contents as she extracted the collection and started thumbing through it, her frown growing as she did.

"Bad news?" He tried again.

For a second time Jess did not answer, still preoccupied with scanning through the stack of papers as they moved back to her desk. She flipped through several sheets with barely more than a glance, then stopped. Jess' brow pinched as she stared at one particular sheet of paper. Whatever was written there, it had certainly gotten her attention.

"Just something I asked our intel division to follow up on," she said at last. "Orange Star suspected that Black Hole might be involved in Brown Nebula somehow. As it turns out, we'd already been monitoring an increased amount of Black Hole equipment in use there. I thought it was just abandoned gear from the wars finding its way into the wrong hands, but Orange Star's theory made me wonder if there was another explanation."

"You think Black Hole is supplying troops to someone in Brown Nebula?" Drake asked.

Jess tilted her head to one side. "I think it's worth investigating."

Drake pulled out a chair and sat down at the desk next to Jess. "There's only one issue I see. If Black Hole really is back – and I don't think there's any doubt about that – surely they'd need everything they can build for their own army."

"Agreed," Jess said. "If they're supplying someone else, they must have a good reason."

She withdrew what looked like a collection of photographs, setting the rest of the files aside. As Drake watched, Jess began studying one of the pictures, staring at it with particular intensity. Her focus never ceased to impress Drake, no matter how many times he witnessed her hard at work.

Once she was finished, Jess handed him the photo in question. "Take a look at this and tell me why we've got a problem."

Drake quickly looked it over. It was a picture of an industrial area; dilapidated warehouses and rusted machinery crowded around a dusty, cracked road that continued out of frame. At first glance it seemed like an unremarkable urban landscape, albeit a rather neglected one.

"I don't suppose you'd give an old sailor a hint?"

"Top right," Jess replied, "outside that garage door."

Drake found the area in question and inspected it, taking note of a small group standing around a waiting car. So far as Drake could tell, the car had just pulled out of the garage, and several members of the group were about to get in. It still didn't seem like anything out of the ordinary, except… Drake's brow furrowed, and he peered at the photo more closely.

"Are those Black Hole soldiers?"

"That's correct," Jess said.

Drake set the photo down on his desk. "And what are they doing in Brown Nebula?"

"Good question." Jess put a hand to her chin as she considered that. "This was taken a week ago in Brown Nebula's biggest port. Intelligence was tracking the activity of a warlord named Scorpion when they observed the meet. Scorpion, I might add, has apparently been deploying more Black Hole equipment than any other warlord."

"Which all suggests he's working with, or for, Black Hole," Drake concluded.

"It certainly looks that way." Jess sighed. "In the past eighteen months, Scorpion has gone from a petty insurgent to controlling almost a fifth of the country. We know almost nothing about him, except that he's ruthless, violent, and deeply hostile towards the Allied Nations."

Drake exhaled in a great puff. Jess was right; this was a problem. It was difficult to imagine that Black Hole could be cultivating influence in the lawless parts of the globe without an established and secure power base, and the implications of that were troubling indeed.

He lifted the photograph and gave it a second look. There was someone standing in between the two Black Hole soldiers, a smaller figure who was not dressed like one of Scorpion's militia fighters. He was partially turned away from the camera, and it was difficult to make out much else.

"And what about this man?" Drake asked, tapping the photo. "Do we have any idea who he is?"

"Not according to the report," Jess said.

"Could it be Koal? He's still unaccounted for."

Jess gave a firm shake of her head. "It's not him. Too tall. Too little hair."

"Another mystery, then," Drake surmised. "Do you mind if I hold onto this? I'd like to do some more digging and see what I can turn up."

"Be my guest." Jess picked up the stack of files and handed it to him. "I should get back to these plans, anyway."

He took the papers and sat them on the desk with the photo of the meeting, swivelling to face the monitor as he prepared to get to work. Drake was pensive as he logged into the computer. It was a troubling picture that was beginning to form; a glimpse into a web of sinister machinations that spanned the continents. Someone – perhaps Flare – was manipulating events from the shadows, and despite their best efforts, Green Earth and Orange Star had only gleaned hints of their operation. Drake didn't know what to make of it. In the years since their army's existence had become known, Black Hole's strategies had been brutal and direct. He could only wonder if this more subtle approach was a result of necessity, desperation, or something more alarming.

Again Drake found himself left with the feeling that it was all too familiar. Alliances were breaking down, the great powers were divided and hostile, and an unseen hand sought to take advantage of it all. It was hard not to see echoes of the past in what was happening now. The similarity to the events of the First Great War was striking, right down to Blue Moon launching an invasion of Orange Star. Still, that was not to say the situation was identical. The world was wise to Black Hole's ambitions now, and it was quite certain Olaf would never help the enemy again. Not after what had been done to his hometown.

Drake sighed and rubbed his temples. Perhaps Black Hole was simply responding to events as they unfolded, just like everyone else. Life had a way of being unpredictable, after all. He pondered that for a moment longer, deciding that there was no sense in searching for malign intent behind every major world event. That would only send them chasing ghosts at a time when their resources were already stretched thin.

And yet the feeling remained.

Chapter Text

They had crossed the border after nightfall.

Conditions for the raid could not have been more perfect. The moonless night was smothered by heavy cloud cover, and they had moved swiftly to take advantage of the darkness. It had only been two days earlier that new intelligence had identified several points where Blue Moon's border defences appeared particularly weak, but there was no time to lose. After some brief deliberations, a set of promising targets had been selected, and Nell had signed off on the plan. By sunset all preparations had been completed, and shortly after, four strike teams had departed their bases and ventured out beyond the Orange Star lines, heading straight for Blue Moon territory.

That multiple spots along the border appeared lightly defended was hardly a surprise. Even when the two countries were at war, the border was too long, and in many places too wild, to fully secure. That did not mean that it was remotely safe to make the crossing, however. The risk remained that they would encounter security fences, active surveillance, or even a regular patrol. Just because their intelligence had not detected any defensive measures didn't mean they weren't there. Blue Moon had hardly lacked the opportunity to reinforce its borders during the past six months. It was all but certain they had increased monitoring of the border as part of their preparations for war. Thus far there had been no indication that the enemy was aware of their presence, but Sami knew it was only a matter of time before her teams were discovered, and when they were, the mission would become a whole lot more complicated.

Ever since the war's outbreak, Sami had been fighting defensive battles alongside the rest of Orange Star's commanders. Blue Moon's armoured battalions had crossed the border in force when the invasion began, making a concerted attempt to advance along multiple axes. While Max and Rachel had taken charge of repelling the enemy's main push into Orange Star's heartland, Sami and Andy had found themselves fighting a series of smaller skirmishes. Smaller, but no less intense. Every rural town, river crossing, and main road had become a potential focus of the conflict, and it was their duty to defend them all – at least in theory. The reality was somewhat different. It was simply impossible to fight for every inch of territory, and so they had to make hard choices about which locations were most important, and prioritise their defence.

Above all, Orange Star's strategy was to make Blue Moon's advance as slow and as costly as possible. In the long run, a war of attrition worked to their advantage. The nature of combat favoured the defender; it was, after all, much harder to seize ground than to hold it. To date, that approach had been remarkably successful. Blue's Moon's gains over the past week had been minimal, and their casualties significant, but Sami knew it would not be enough. The Blue Moon Army remained a formidable force despite being eroded by successive wars, and Olaf still had the option of mobilising more troops. Orange Star meanwhile could not cover every stretch of ground, not whilst simultaneously guarding against the Black Hole threat. They needed to resolve this crisis as soon as possible, and that required weakening Blue Moon to the point where it could not continue fighting. Sami and Max had soon come to the same conclusion: they needed to take more offensive actions to cripple Blue Moon before this war could get too far out of hand.

Sami felt a twinge of dark amusement at the thought. Things were already spiralling way out of control. Wars were easy to start, but notoriously difficult to contain; like wildfires they had a habit of growing in scope and intensity, leaving only ruin in their wake. Any hope that the situation would improve had died when Blue Moon's tanks rolled across the border. Sami was not naive. She had been a soldier for her entire adult life, and she recognised that things were going to get worse before they got better.

An awareness of that uneasy truth had been gnawing at Sami ever since Blue Moon declared war, though she did her best to ignore it. The bigger picture was not what mattered right now. All she could do was see her mission through to a successful conclusion. Instead of dwelling on the future, Sami concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, jogging through the shadowed woodland at an unyielding pace. She had accompanied the first strike team, and the other five squad members were spread out to either side of her in a loose skirmish line. Her boots were still wet from when they had crossed a stream earlier, but Sami ignored the discomfort and the cold. She had always been able to push through physical pain and stress, no matter how severe.

So far, everything had gone according to plan. Four teams had crossed the border in three places, embarked on armoured vehicles to cover most of the distance to their targets. They had left the transports behind only for the last stretch of the journey. Proceeding on foot was slower than taking a direct approach, but for this mission, stealth was a higher priority than speed.

A sharp crack echoed through the night, and adrenaline shot through Sami's veins. Almost as soon as she heard the sound she relaxed. She had stepped on a particularly loud branch, that was all. In the oppressive silence of the night it was easy to see an enemy in every shadow, and a threat in even the faintest noise. The breaking branch was quickly forgotten, but Sami remained alert as her team kept up its relentless pace. They were deep enough into Blue Moon territory now that the dangers were very real.

Sami glanced to either side of her, noting the vague shapes of soldiers moving in the gloom. Still no sign of trouble, or even that the enemy was aware of them at all. She did not stop checking the area as the group continued onwards. It wasn't inconceivable that their foray into Blue Moon territory had gone unnoticed, but it was unlikely. Sami had taken every possible precaution, but it was difficult to completely hide troop movements from a vigilant foe. She had fully expected to encounter some resistance as they approached the border, or even a show of force meant to deter them from going any further. Instead there had been nothing. No response, no enemy troops, nothing. The wider world had faded away, suffocated by thick shadows, and Sami was left with only the rhythm of her breathing and the beat of her boots against the forest floor. She would almost have preferred to be in a firefight than in this eerie silence. The constant need to anticipate any possible threat was playing havoc with her nerves.

Another fifteen minutes of steady jogging brought them to the edge of the woods. Sami signalled to the rest of the team, and they slowed to walking pace. The group advanced with greater caution as the trees thinned, and the ground became more uneven. Creeping through the dark, they soon emerged at the top of a ridge, a steep, rocky incline falling away beyond. Down in the plains below Sami could see faint lights in the distance, glittering like yellow stars in the night. She could scarcely believe it. They'd made it across the Blue Moon border and come within range of the target without being detected. Sami couldn't rule out the possibility of an ambush, of course, but if the enemy knew they were coming, surely they wouldn't have waited this long to attack. Deliberately leaving the facility vulnerable was madness. Sami shook her head, reminding herself that there was no use in speculating now. Her duty was to carry out her mission, and deal with the situation as it evolved.

Sami turned to the sergeant who had accompanied her squad, expression neutral.

"Get everything set up and ready to go," she said, lifting her com device from her belt. "This is Sami. All teams, report in."

One by one the status reports came through. It was the same story each time. Every team had made it to their assigned position without incident, and there had been absolutely no sign that Blue Moon was even aware of their presence. Sami allowed herself a moment to consider that. Could it be that the enemy's defences were so lax that they had completely missed this incursion? It seemed almost impossible to Sami that anyone could be so incompetent, but she was well aware that not everyone held themselves to the same high standards as she did. It was at least conceivable that Blue Moon had been so focused on their offensive that they had neglected their own defences.

Sami crossed her arms, taking note of the progress her team had made setting up their missile launchers. They were almost done. Good, she thought. The sooner they completed their mission and got the hell out of there, the better. In the meantime she remained preoccupied by the anomaly of Blue Moon's nonexistent defences. Sami could not help but think of the report the President had shown her and Nell, back before the conference in the War Room. She hadn't quite known what to make of it then, and now, she was only more uncertain of its meaning. Was it really possible that Blue Moon's ability to fight was becoming seriously compromised? Sami still found it hard to believe. Surely the country's military couldn't be in such bad condition, or else they would never have been able to survive the recent wars.

As she waited, Sami considered that assumption further. She had heard rumours that Blue Moon suffered from poor logistics and incompetent command, back when Olaf first tried to invade Orange Star. There had even been stories circulating about planes unable to fight for lack of fuel. Sami had never put much stock in such hearsay, but it was an undeniable fact that Blue Moon had lacked the capacity to send troops further abroad during the Second Great War. Even when Orange Star and Yellow Comet had dedicated everything they could spare to freeing Green Earth from Hawke's iron grip, Blue Moon had been unable to join the fight. Their supply lines, it had been said, were in shambles, and their resources were stretched too thin to send any aid. Sami had thought little of that claim at the time. She had assumed any logistical issues were simply due to wartime damages, but now she found herself reconsidering that conclusion. Perhaps they were actually a symptom of a much deeper problem.

Sami dismissed that train of thought with a toss of her head. It was foolish to underestimate the Blue Moon Army. Better to err on the side of caution and plan for the worst, especially with so much at stake. Besides, if Blue Moon was in such dire straits as some seemed to think, no doubt that would soon become apparent.

"We're ready, ma'am," the sergeant advised her.

Sami acknowledged that with a single nod and activated her com again. "All teams, this is Sami. Have you completed your preparations?"

Once again, every answer was affirmative. There had been no problems at all. Sami couldn't quite believe it. In her entire career, she had never known a mission to proceed this smoothly.

"Okay," she said. "You all know what to do. If everything goes well, we should be able to stay one step ahead of the enemy, but be prepared for anything. We've got no idea what the enemy's response will be."

Sami paused. Her eyes settled on the cluster of lights down on the plain, and she felt anticipation pulse through her veins.

"All teams, fire!"

Several bright flashes cut through the oppressive gloom in rapid succession. Sami watched as a volley of compact missiles blasted into the sky and were lost to sight. A split second later, a cluster of explosions rocked the stillness, and the lights below were obscured by a smoky conflagration. There was no time to wait and see the results of their handiwork. Sami gave a quick gesture, and her team began dismantling the launchers as fast as possible. She cast one last glance back towards the plain as they prepared to leave, but all she could make out where the target had been were fires burning. It was impossible to say how much damage had been done, and there was nothing she could do except put the question aside as her unit withdrew into the woods. Hopefully it had been enough.

The retreat through the trees was measured in short breaths and tense heartbeats more than any real sense of time. Sami and her team ran as fast as they could without exhausting themselves, heading for the transports they had left on the other side of the woods. It had been too risky to bring the armoured vehicles any closer to the target. Taking them that far into enemy territory had been a gamble, even with good cover from the terrain and the moonless night. That there was no sign the transports had been detected was encouraging. Still, Sami remained alert for any sign of danger, even as her muscles began to ache from the distance they had covered. She was no stranger to physical exertion, but the journey through the forest, covering rough terrain at speed in the dark, had been gruelling. Even the meagre comforts of an APC seemed like a luxury by comparison. They were not far out of reach now; Sami found she could track their progress by the landmarks they passed. First a small hill, strewn with fallen trunks, and then the stream they had crossed shortly after entering the woods. Ahead came a dip in the terrain, and a short distance beyond that, their transports were waiting at the mouth of a ravine. They were nearly home.

Several soldiers burst into a smile as they emerged out into the open and glimpsed the transports. Sami slowed, letting the others go first and bringing up the rear. Her team swiftly descended over the rough ground and rocks, making a beeline for the faint orange shapes sitting in the gloom. Sami waved to the soldiers standing guard as she approached.

"Any trouble?" She asked, breathless.

"No ma'am. It's been quiet as the grave."

After the astounding success of their mission, Sami had expected that answer, even if she couldn't quite believe it. But then, nothing seemed to be going the way she expected any more.

Her heart gave a strange tremor at the unbidden thought. Sami raised a hand to wipe some of the sweat from her brow as she struggled to keep her composure. Summoning all her willpower, she pushed both the thought and the bitterness lurking beneath aside.

"Alright," Sami said. "Load everyone into the transports and let's get out of here."

Like everything else that night, the orders were carried out with simple efficiency. Before long they were all aboard the transports, and speeding towards the border. Sami allowed herself a moment to sit back and catch her breath as the APC sped onwards, rumbling and jolting as it drove across the rough terrain. Her part of the operation was complete. There was just one last thing she had to do.

Sami lifted her com device again and input a different signal. "Bravo leader, this is Strike Team Alpha. Do you copy?"

"Copy that, Strike Team Alpha," Max's deep voice answered. "What's your status?"

"We're on our way home now," she replied. "The mission was a perfect success. You're all clear."

"Now that's what I like to hear," Max said. "We'll move in right away."

He sounded pleased, and for good reason. This was the confirmation he'd been waiting for. Now, the second phase of the operation could begin.

Sami and Max had devised the plan together. Sami's role had been to lead her strike teams across the border and take out several air defence and tracking stations. Their objective had been to create a gap in the enemy's defences so that Max could launch an air raid deeper into enemy territory. By hitting a string of targets along a section of the front, Sami had created an opening for him to attack what they suspected was a vital supply hub for the main invasion force. If everything went according to plan, any logistical woes Blue Moon was suffering were about to get a whole lot worse.

"You doin' okay?" Max asked after a short time.

"Fine. We didn't encounter any problems at all," Sami said. "No resistance, no pursuit. I don't think I've ever had a mission go this smoothly before."

She heard Max grunt. "And you?"

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sami asked, a guarded tone creeping into her voice.

"Nothing, just that things haven't been easy lately, for any of us. No shame in admitting it."

Sami felt a twinge of irritation. What did Max think he was getting at? She had no desire to dwell on her feelings, let alone discuss them with anyone. Even if she had, Max was not the friend she would have turned to. His heart was in the right place, but offering emotional support was not one of Max's strengths. If he knew the extent of what had passed between her and Eagle, Max would probably have broken his nose.

In a twisted way, Sami was almost grateful Olaf had decided to invade. Defending her country was a welcome distraction from the wreckage of her personal life.

"And are you okay?" She snapped.

"I've been better," Max said, his voice darkening. Without warning he let out a short burst of laughter. "Man, look at the two of us. I guess we've all got our demons, huh?"

"Except Andy, maybe," Sami said.

Max let out an amused snort. "Yeah, unless you count not knowing how to tie your own shoelaces." He went quiet for a time. "I don't know. It's been gettin' to me lately, Sami. I didn't think it'd be this hard, being at war with Blue Moon again. Figured we did it before, so we could do it again."

Sami considered that, her irritation subsiding. "A lot's happened since then. It isn't the same."

"Damn right it's not," Max said. "Last time it wasn't so suicidal of them. I can't believe Grit would be dumb enough to go along with this invasion, not with Black Hole breathing down our neck."

"Maybe he wasn't," she said, aware of the simmering anger in Max's voice. "Maybe he just couldn't do anything to stop it."

"More like he couldn't be bothered, like it was just too damn hard." Another snort. "That's what Grit does, Sami. As soon as the going gets tough, he bails. I've cut him a lot of slack over the years, and you know what? I'm done."

Sami said nothing. There was some truth to what Max was saying, but there was also a lot of nuance he was leaving out. Sami had never worked all that closely with Grit, and in many ways they were as different as night and day, but she had nonetheless come to respect him. Grit may not have been a model military officer, but there had been many times when she had seen him go to great lengths to do what he thought was right.

She scowled to herself. Max raised a good point. It was hard to see how Grit could be anything but complicit in Blue Moon's war. He was a commanding officer in their army, and there was only so far his actions could be separated from those of the country he chose to fight for. Perhaps she'd simply misjudged Grit like she'd misjudged others.

"Have you heard anything more about Brown Nebula?" She asked, eager to change the subject. "Last I heard, we had a lead on Black Hole worth following there."

"Nah," Max said. "I don't think anyone can spare the resources to chase that up. Maybe Green Earth can scrape something together, but it'll probably take 'em a while."

"We don't have a while," Sami said sharply. "We need to get to the bottom of this, fast." She paused. "What about Yellow Comet? Surely they could send a force to look into what's going on while still staying neutral. Call it an independent investigation. I'm sure Sonja would love that."

She heard Max draw a sharp intake of breath. "You haven't heard."

"Heard what?"

"Yellow Comet's out," he said. "They quit the Allied Nations this morning."

"What?" Sami exclaimed.

"I know," Max said, his voice grim. "Beats me what they're thinking. I get not wanting to wind up in the middle of this stupid war with Blue Moon, but they're just makin' it easy for Black Hole to pick us off one by one."

Sami could barely believe what she had just heard. Coming to terms with the breakdown of their alliance with Blue Moon had been difficult enough, and that was when considering the history of bitter rivalry between their two countries. In that case, working together had very much been the exception rather than the norm. Yellow Comet and Orange Star, on the other hand, had been firm allies ever since fighting side by side during the Cataclysm. So deep were the bonds between them that the future head of the Orange Star Armed Forces had been trained by Sensei himself, the most skilled commander Yellow Comet had ever seen. Many years later, Orange Star had returned the favour by accepting no less an esteemed student than the Emperor's daughter to their military academy. Excepting the skirmishes provoked by Sturm's campaign of terror and deceit during the first war, they had been steadfast friends for almost thirty five years.

So why had Yellow Comet decided to abandon them now?

"Sami?" Max asked. "You still there?"

Sami started. She had almost forgotten that Max was still on the line.

"Yes," she said, struggling to clear her head. "Yes, I'm here. The news just took me by surprise, that's all."

"I'll bet. Listen, I'd better go. Our jets will be coming up on the border soon." A brief pause. "Take care of yourself, okay?"

Sami sighed. "You too. Oh, and say hi to Rachel for me."

"Will do. Max out."

She heard a faint beep as Max broke the connection, and Sami was left to let the news sink in. There was little else to occupy her mind as the APC continued homeward. The drive back to their base was a long one; it would take over an hour at top speed, and by then it would be well after midnight. It was a quiet trip. Some of her team members closed their eyes and got what rest they could, dozing if not deeply sleeping. Sami wished she could do the same, but she was far too tense. Part of her was still waiting for Blue Moon forces to launch a pursuit, and as the mission's commander it was her duty to be ready for them. Even after they crossed the border and were back in Orange Star, Sami found she couldn't relax. With the war raging, there was no place in the border regions that was truly safe.

As it turned out, the drive was uneventful. Sami's thoughts alternated between forming plans to thwart any pursuit, and bursts of frustration at Yellow Comet's decision to leave the Allied Nations. The resignation might have meant little in practice, considering the point things had already come to, but it was still a bitter pill to swallow.

Eventually the APC slowed to approach their base, driving through the main gate and coasting to a halt. Sami and her team of soldiers disembarked, stepping out onto the asphalt yard to stretch aching limbs and breathe the crisp night air. Sami found herself surprised by just how cold it was outside. During the mission she had barely noticed the chill, her body temperature kept high by constant physical activity. That had changed after sitting idle during the long drive. Now, the night air felt like ice against her skin, and Sami could not keep from shivering. It would not be long before winter was well and truly upon them, she reflected. Everything was cold and silent. There were sentries and guards on duty, even at this late hour, but for the most part the world was deathly quiet, blanketed by the stillness of the early morning. Sami's team brought no fresh chatter. Everyone was far too tired for idle conversation.

She strode across the yard, heading towards the main building rather than the barracks. Sami had a small office with its own bathroom, and she had set up her bed inside as well. They were hardly luxurious accommodations, but she was at least grateful for the privacy. She hurried through the base until she reached her room, growing more aware of her exhaustion with every step. Now that her teams were safely back home, she could finally lower her guard. More than anything Sami wanted to lie down and close her eyes, but she needed to shower first, to wash the grime and sweat of the night off her skin.

Sami did not procrastinate in the shower, although the hot water tempted her otherwise. She kept her movements quick and efficient, focusing on what needed to be done, and was soon finished washing. Sami stepped out of the shower, dried herself off, and changed into her sleepwear. She turned towards her bed, only to find herself hesitating to get under the blankets as she again thought of Yellow Comet. Max's news was not sitting well with her. Sami knew the sensible course of action was to ignore the thought, but she couldn't bring herself to let it go. She needed to see what had just happened for herself, to try and understand why their allies – their friends – had chosen this path. With a resigned expression Sami turned away from her bed, sat down at her desk, and flipped open a laptop.

Yellow Comet's withdrawal from the Allied Nations wasn't entirely unexpected, she had to admit. For months they had been determined not to take sides, even while Orange Star and Blue Moon were at each other's throats. For whatever reason, they were committed to neutrality. Still, Max was right. It made no sense strategically. Sami didn't believe that Yellow Comet would choose to ignore the recent spate of Black Hole attacks, but how could they maintain such an isolationist policy otherwise? It made no sense to her.

The laptop had finished starting up. Sami quickly searched for news stories related to Yellow Comet. The first link was dated six hours ago. Sami clicked on it and was taken to an article about the formal resignation from the Allied Nations. She skimmed through it, but it told her little that she did not already know. Most experts thought the announcement was largely a formal acknowledgement of the existing situation; there was speculation that Orange Star and Green Earth's new alliance – the New Allied Nations, they were calling it – had made it necessary for Yellow Comet to clarify their position. Several times the author made reference to 'a rapidly changing global security environment'. It was a phrase that annoyed Sami more each time she read it. She'd always hated political jargon. As far as she was concerned, it served no purpose but to obscure the truth, and this was one of the worst cases she'd ever seen. Orange Star and Blue Moon were once again in a state of total war, to say nothing of the fact that Black Hole was back. It was conceivable that the freedom and autonomy of every country in the world was threatened. To say the global security environment was changing was a monumental understatement.

As Sami came towards the end of the article, she paused at an embedded video. It was an excerpt from a press conference, given by none other than the Emperor of Yellow Comet himself. Even on a small video with poor resolution, Kanbei stood tall and proud in his pressed uniform and flowing cape, his jaw set in a look of firm determination. Strength was one quality no one would ever accuse Kanbei of lacking.

Sami didn't expect the video to tell her anything she did not already know, but she nevertheless felt a certain cynical curiosity as she hit play.

"After great deliberation, it has been decided that Yellow Comet shall resign from the Allied Nations," Kanbei began.

He was considerably more subdued than usual, Sami noted. Kanbei was reading from a prepared speech, and his voice was almost a monotone.

"Together, we have won great victories. But this is a time of great and rapid change. Our country must adapt for the future, in order to preserve our traditions. So it is that for now, Yellow Comet must stand alone."

Kanbei stopped speaking and glanced away. As Sami watched, he fidgeted briefly with his maroon cape, before apparently remembering where he was and looking back to the camera.

"This does not mean that we have forgotten the events of recent years. As ever, our country will honour its friendships, especially those forged in the heat of battle, but we must do so at greater distance than before."

The video reached its end and went to black. A frown came over Sami. This was not the kind of speech she would have expected from the Emperor of Yellow Comet. Kanbei had a reputation for honour and integrity, and Sami had never known him to be anything but honest and direct, if occasionally given to bouts of extreme bombast. This speech, by contrast, was full of evasive nonsense and vague platitudes, to the point it seemed to have come from someone else entirely.

It was baffling, just as every decision Yellow Comet made lately was baffling to Sami. They seemed determined to keep their distance from their former allies, and to say nothing that would explain it. Their silence had been nagging at Sami ever since she'd tried to contact Sonja, back before Blue Moon launched its invasion. She had spent hours trying to reach her old classmate, and without any success. Official requests were met with polite rebuffs from junior officials, and any more discreet enquires received no answer at all. Over and over Sami had been told that Sonja was occupied with matters of the highest import, and that Yellow Comet was unable to provide any assistance at this time. It was infuriating. She hadn't been able to get through to Sonja no matter what she tried, and Sami had long since stopped expecting any reply.

The worst part of it was not knowing why Sonja was refusing contact. Sami didn't doubt that there was a reason: with Sonja, there always was. The only explanation Sami could come up with was that Yellow Comet didn't want to risk antagonising Blue Moon by providing any help to Orange Star. It wasn't a particularly satisfying explanation. Sonja had always possessed an alarming tendency to disregard rules and norms if they got in the way of her plans, and Sami did not for one second believe that Sonja had suddenly decided to restrain herself because she might risk causing offence. Either Sonja's hands were tied by factors outside her control, or she was up to something that required her to keep her distance. Neither possibility was especially comforting.

It wasn't just losing an ally that bothered Sami. She and Sonja were more than that, even if friend was perhaps not the right word to describe their complicated relationship. Over the years they had been rivals, foes, and comrades, but there had always been a mutual understanding between them. Now? Sami no longer knew what to think. Ever since the end of the Omega War, it felt like everyone was pulling away, like every connection she had ever made was being set ablaze. First Blue Moon, then Eagle, now this.

Eagle. A flash of anger ran through her, mingling with all the pain she had tried so hard to bury. Over the past few weeks Sami had discovered that she couldn't entirely keep from thinking about him, no matter how hard she tried. He was still with her, even after their relationship had been so abruptly terminated. In some ways the aftershocks of what had happened were worse than the initial hurt. Sami didn't know how to cope with this ongoing anger and heartbreak, didn't know what she was supposed to do with it. All she wanted was for the feelings to fade, and that was the one thing they refused to do. Eagle yet lingered in her heart and in her memory, and she hated him for it.

Sami leant back in the chair and rubbed her tired eyes. She didn't have the energy to think about Eagle. She needed to sleep. In a few short hours, an alarm would wake her before dawn, just in time for her morning briefing on the latest developments in the war. After that, everything would start all over again. She would be in for another long day of commanding forces, coordinating troop movements and fighting back Blue Moon attacks. Their success tonight might relieve some of the pressure on their positions, Sami thought as she turned off the laptop. Perhaps things would get a little easier, at least in the short term.

She stood up and walked to her bed, doing her best to push it all out of her mind. Blue Moon, Black Hole, these endless wars, the dwindling list of friends she could count on. Eagle. All of it. She was too exhausted to think about any of those things any longer. The hot shower had already helped relax her aching muscles, and as Sami climbed beneath the blankets, she felt herself simply collapse into the bed.

She was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow, falling into a deep and dreamless slumber.

Chapter Text

A steady rain was falling when Grit arrived at Blue Moon's border military camp. Winter would be upon them in a matter of days, but the autumn had been mild, and as yet there was no sign of any approaching snowfall. For most of the past week there had been nothing but rain, a constant drizzle that doused any good cheer left to those below, and sapped whatever momentum the invasion force had not already lost. It was as if nature itself could see the folly of Blue Moon's war, Grit mused, and had done all in its power to hinder it.

He was slow to spot the encampment as his government sedan approached, catching a glimpse of dark blue tents and grey concrete only between the beat of the windscreen wipers. The view through the window was obscured by drops of water tracing tremulous patterns across the glass, and anything more distant was made indistinct by the rain. All appeared vague and faraway, almost like the periphery of a dream. Isolated from the waterlogged world and warm in the comfort of the car, Grit was almost able to forget that a bitter conflict was raging not far from here.

Almost, save for the unpleasant hunch that he would no longer be able to avoid it.

The car slowed as it turned off the road and onto the open ground. The earth had been churned by wheels and treads, and soaked by the rain until it was little more than a mass of mud and pooling water. Trying to drive through the field was a fool's errand. Grit winced as the engine groaned and the car came to a complete halt, wheels spinning uselessly as it became bogged down in the mire. The sedan was not built for conditions like these. With a shake of his head Grit signalled his driver to stop trying to break free, and got out of the car. Considering how wet the terrain had become, he'd make better time on foot.

Everything outside was hazy and grey. The unrelenting rain cloaked the scene in a veil of mist, leaving all it touched sodden and miserable. Grit could already feel the damp chill seeping beneath his coat as he squinted through the downpour, studying his surroundings. The camp stretched out in all directions, makeshift roads of grass and mud running between the tents, sheds, and rows of parked vehicles. Soldiers in blue were everywhere, marching back and forth as they carried out their duties. Most ignored him, focused on their tasks, but a few stood at attention and saluted before continuing on their way. Grit held up a hand to stop one young soldier and ask for directions.

"I'm lookin' for Olaf," Grit said. "Don't suppose you know where I might find him?"

The soldier swallowed and gestured over his shoulder, towards the centre of the camp. "That way, Commander, sir."

Grit nodded in thanks as the soldier retreated. He could not keep from frowning as he began to trudge through the mud, making his way through the maze of tents and roads. He did not like what he had seen in the young boy's eyes. It was a wary, frightened look, like an animal that knew it was being hunted, and so far as Grit could tell, the soldier he'd spoken to was not the only one feeling that way. Every face he saw was grim and forlorn, every pair of eyes downcast as if unwilling to see what lay ahead. There was little hope to be found here, Grit thought. The wounded huddled for shelter under their tents, waiting for transport to a hospital or clinic, and there were more damaged tanks brought back from the front than fresh ones to replace them. No matter where Grit looked, all he saw was despair. Their army's morale was visibly deteriorating, and he didn't know how much longer it could hold.

One thing was obvious: the war was not going according to plan. This camp was still the main staging point for the invasion of Orange Star, just as it had been before Blue Moon launched its attack. Either by neglect or by design, Grit was not privy to the war's most sensitive details, but it was clear to him that little progress had been made. Worse, judging by what he had seen of the border camp so far, any gains had come at a steep cost. Grit sighed. It was all such a waste.

He soon found himself in the middle of the camp, where a collection of sheds and prefabricated buildings had been erected around a short asphalt runway. At the end of the tarmac was a small hangar, and through its open doors Grit could see Olaf standing with his back turned to the outside world. The general was leaning over a table to inspect a map, and he was not alone. Ana stood at his side as she so often did these days, always there to offer her particular brand of misguided counsel. Grit's expression hardened as he watched the two of them working closely together. He had been ordered to report to Olaf so that he could receive new orders, and at the time, he had thought little of it. Now Grit found himself wondering just which of them had demanded his presence, and why. Something told him he would not like the answer.

Hands in his pockets Grit wandered up behind them and let out his breath in a puff. Whatever motive lay behind the summons, he was about to find out.

"You wanted to see me, boss?"

Olaf glanced briefly over his shoulder. "Ah, Grit. You're here. Good."

That was all he said before turning back to what he was doing, muttering under his breath as he studied the table. Grit raised an eyebrow. Olaf seemed to be completely preoccupied by other matters, and Ana was yet to acknowledge his presence at all. How long did they intend to keep him waiting?

"Somethin' on your mind, frosty?" Grit tried again.

"Yes," Olaf grunted. "We have a mission for you."

Neither of them had bothered to actually look at him. It irked Grit, but it hardly came as a surprise. For weeks now he had been locked out of the loop. Important news reached his ears hours, if not days after the fact, and he no longer had any input in what Blue Moon was planning. Conversations were cut short when he walked into the room, and there were even times when he could have sworn he was being followed. Much as Grit would have liked to reassure himself that he was only imagining things, he wasn't that naive. His years in Blue Moon had left him well acquainted with the way the country worked, and there was only one conclusion to be drawn.

His position in Blue Moon was rapidly becoming untenable.

Grit tapped his foot as he waited, wondering how long it would take for Olaf to get to the point. He'd hardly been expecting a warm reception, but this was ridiculous. Still neither Olaf nor Ana had even deigned to turn around. Was it some kind of petty test, or just a symptom of how far from grace he'd fallen? Grit rolled his eyes. Whatever they were playing at, he had no patience for it.

"Well, seein' as you're only showing me the back of your head, I can only think y'all are looking for a haircut," he said.

A low growl emanated from Olaf's rotund form as if ripped from the bowels of the earth. "I do not have the patience to deal with his insolent tongue," he said to Ana. "Not now, not with Orange Star putting up such fierce resistance."

Grit felt a flicker of unease. It was not lost on him that the war with Orange Star was going poorly. He had developed a knack for reading Olaf's moods over the years, and this seething frustration with the enemy was confirmation that Blue Moon was in a difficult position indeed. Perhaps that was the mission they had in mind for him. Had Olaf and Ana realised that they needed his skill with long range weaponry to crack open Orange Star's defences? It was not a comforting notion.

Grit had known all along it might come to this. Ever since Blue Moon and Orange Star had set out on this course towards war, he had known it might come to this. Had known he might once more find himself fighting against his home country. Grit had done so before, of course, following in the wake of Olaf's invasion four years ago. It hadn't much bothered him then, and he couldn't quite understand why things felt so different this time around. He'd always held nothing but contempt for the endless political games and self-serving schemes played out by those in power. As far as he was concerned, all governments and politicians were much alike, and as a result it didn't particularly matter which side he fought for. He'd held to that conviction all his life, but it no longer brought him any comfort.

"Walk with me," Ana commanded.

The intelligence officer had turned to face him, one hand resting on the pommel of her sheathed sword. Grit ignored her, waiting to see if Olaf would say anything further, but the man remained obstinate. Ana started on a path towards the runway, gesturing for him to follow. For a brief moment Grit considered trying one more time to speak with Olaf, but he knew there was no point. He'd already said all there was to say, and the leader of Blue Moon hadn't listened to a single word.

Grit closed his eyes. It seemed he had no choice but to go after Ana and hear what it was they wanted from him. His fate was out of his hands.

Ana had already stepped out onto the muddy asphalt strip by the time Grit finally began to follow her. He did not increase his pace to catch up to her, and she did not adjust hers to wait for him. Soon enough Grit came alongside Ana regardless; he was far taller, and his usual gait was noticeably faster.

"So what's this mission of yours, Yer Highness?" He spat.

Ana did not immediately answer. Her round eyes were gazing out over their surroundings, a faraway light in them as they looked over the churned mud and constant motion. Did she see the despair pervading the camp? Grit wondered. Or did she simply refuse to acknowledge it was there like she refused to recognise so much else? In Ana's view, finding fault with Blue Moon was tantamount to treason. Her reports had always possessed a tendency to say what her superiors wanted to hear, and to paint her country in the best possible light. They were traits that made for poor intelligence, something which had always frustrated Grit to no end. At first he had considered Ana to be an amusing buffoon, but his opinion of her had soured after her unreliable intel almost got Colin killed during the Second Great War. That the incident had been largely ignored, and Ana promoted to her current position shortly after, had not helped matters. Not for the first time Grit felt baffled that such a woman could become head of military intelligence. Sycophantic loyalty to one's country was a dangerous trait in someone whose job it was to uncover often unpalatable truths.

"You are to take command of the northern front," Ana said at last.

Grit's brow furrowed. "There ain't no northern front."

"Correct." The corner of Ana's lip curled into a faint smirk. "But we must be careful to keep it that way. If Orange Star perceives we are weak in the north and launches a counter offensive there, it could create… difficulties. Your orders are to guard the border and prevent any incursion onto Blue Moon soil."

"I thought we were pretendin' everything northwest of here was Blue Moon soil," Grit remarked.

Ana chose to ignore that comment. "The arrangements have already been made. Report to the sub-commander at the north perimeter of the camp, and you can be on your way."

Grit took a moment to digest this news. This was not the mission he had been expecting. In fact, as far as he could tell, this wasn't a mission at all. So far as he was aware, Orange Star had shown no inclination to launch a major offensive campaign. To date they had opted for a strategy of containment, steadily bleeding Blue Moon's ability to fight whilst conserving their own. Grit had heard rumours that Orange Star had struck a supply depot earlier in the week, but even that was a far cry from a full blown push into Blue Moon territory. The idea that they would launch a large scale attack so far from the focus of the current fighting was absurd, not when all their efforts were going towards defending the current front. Sending him off to the middle of nowhere made no strategic sense. That was exactly it, Grit realised; there was no military logic behind these orders at all. This was a political move. He was being shunted aside to a place where he could wield no influence and pose no threat.

It made perfect sense, but for one small problem: Olaf would surely never have considered him a threat.

At least, not by himself. Grit started as if stung and turned to look Ana directly in the eye, suddenly questioning just how much influence she wielded. This mess they were in was due in no small part to her biased reports, that much was clear. The real question was what motive lay behind them. Was Ana acting out of a zealous belief in Blue Moon's imperial right, or was there was something more insidious at play here?

Grit's eyes narrowed to slits as he saw the woman smile, a look of self-assured scorn that only grew as she observed his reaction. Perhaps Ana was even more dangerous than he'd suspected.

"Is there a problem?" She asked.

He shook his head in disbelief, still struggling to process this turn of events. "Oh, I reckon there's a whole bunch of problems 'round these parts."

"You are always so dramatic," Ana said in a snide tone. "A shame. I'd hoped you might see the wisdom in this."

"Possum spit!"

She tilted her head to one side as Grit cursed, some of her arrogance falling away as she regarded him with a more appraising eye. There was distrust in those big grey eyes, and a lingering trace of disdain, but there was something else as well. Wariness, perhaps. It was difficult to tell. Ana had never been one to let any weakness show.

Whatever it might have been, the strange look soon vanished. Ana's poise was perfect as she handed him a clipboard.

"These are the troops that have been assigned to your command," she said. "I expect the force is satisfactory?"

Grit quickly skimmed through the manifest of soldiers and vehicles. It was a short list. He let out a snort as he realised that he was being sent north with little more than a token force. If Orange Star did attack there, he would barely be able to slow them down. That was further proof of his suspicions. If either Ana or Olaf were seriously concerned about an Orange Star offensive, they would have at least given him the troops to hold one off until reinforcements could arrive. The pointlessness of the assignment was galling, but Grit knew there was no point in complaining about it. This decision was not up for debate.

"I suppose it'll have to be," he muttered.

"Good." Ana's smirk had returned. "I will expect a report once you are in position."

With that she pivoted neatly about and began walking back towards the hangar, no doubt on her way to whisper more poison into Olaf's ear. The thought provoked another surge of anger as what had just happened began to sink in. Ana had played him flawlessly. She'd taken full advantage of the situation with Lash to push him aside and take his place at Olaf's side.

Grit scowled and spat at his feet. He should have seen this coming. It rankled at him that he hadn't; he'd always considered himself wise to all the petty politics and power plays that went on in Blue Moon. His was the dispassionate eye of the outsider, unattached and unbiased. Or at least, that was what Grit had always told himself.

These new orders were a rude awakening, but thinking about it then and now, he realised that he had been left behind months ago. Every new escalation with Orange Star had shocked him, and not because Orange Star was his home country. Grit had never held any particular regard for this flag or that flag, or understood why it was so damn important that lines on a map were here and not there. No, what had shaken him was how easily everyone around him seemed able to ignore that the world was changing. Trying to go back to the way things were before Black Hole was impossible, and there was no point in pretending otherwise. He'd always known that Blue Moon had an unhealthy tendency to believe its own lies, but this was denial on another level entirely. The country was going to ruin its future over some perceived slights, too convinced of its own strength to see the danger it was in. Olaf was hurting too much to realise that he was destroying the very thing he loved most, and hardliners like Ana were doing all in their power to keep it that way. If there was any hope left of averting disaster, or even mitigating it, Grit could no longer see it.

Grit sighed, his anger cooling as it turned inward and became a sort of wretched self pity. He really should have seen this coming.

"Commander Grit?" A polite voice asked from behind him.

He blinked, startled at being spoken to. Few people chose to approach him these days. He was no longer someone who was safe to associate with, that much was clear. Grit crossed his arms as he turned to face this new arrival. He wasn't sure how many more unwelcome surprises he could take.

"What do you want, Sasha?" He snapped.

Sasha's brown eyes widened slightly, taken aback by the bite in his voice. She took a breath to steady herself and clasped her hands behind her back.

"I was wondering if you might have a minute to talk, Commander."

"I ain't in a talking mood," Grit said.

"Please." Sasha glanced around the camp, her eyes lingering on every passing soldier. "I have a favour to ask of you."

For a moment Grit resisted the urge to shout at Sasha and send her away. He was struggling just to come to terms with his own situation, and the thought of taking on someone else's burdens as well was overwhelming. Surely Sasha could see that. Grit sighed again, feeling the last of his anger finally ebb away, and with it any objection to hearing what the young woman wanted. He felt tired, so tired, and lost in this world gone mad, but there was something timid in Sasha's bearing that made him think that she needed his help, and that made all the difference. No matter how he felt, or how much trouble he might have been in, it wasn't in Grit's nature to turn away someone in need.

"Come on, then," he said.

Grit beckoned for Sasha to follow as he stepped off the runway, taking cover in a shed with a small canvas awning. It was hardly the most comfortable place to speak, but at least they were out of the rain.

"What's this all about, now?"

Sasha hesitated to answer, casting a furtive glance around the area to make sure they were alone. There was little need; she and Grit were surrounded by high stacks of crates and supplies, and well hidden from any prying eyes. Soon Sasha leaned in close and began to speak. Whatever was on her mind, she clearly didn't want to be overheard.

"Before the war began," she said in a quiet voice, "Colin and I spoke with Commanders Rachel and Max."

Grit studied Sasha as she spoke, his gaze softening in sympathy. "That can't have been easy."

"It was not." Sasha winced. "They were… quite upset."

"Upset?" Grit raised an eyebrow. "Somethin' tells me that ain't the half of it. I'll wager Max was angrier'n a raccoon that's been climbing a cactus with its paws tied together."

"Why would a racc-" Sasha cut herself off, staring at Grit in complete bewilderment. "Never mind."

She fell silent, visibly making an effort to reorder her thoughts. Soon she recovered her usual composure and returned to her point.

"Yes, Max was furious," she continued. "I've never seen him so angry before."

Grit nodded, feeling worse with every passing moment. It was one thing for Blue Moon's idiocy to make a shambles of his own life. That much he could handle. The impact it was surely having on those he cared about, on the other hand, was not a consequence Grit was eager to face.

"No doubt. Listen, Sasha…" Grit's brow creased as he struggled to find the right words. "This ain't personal, even if ol' Maxie thinks it is. We're all just caught up in something bigger than any of us. You can bet your horse Max will realise that, once he calms down a little. So you just try not to worry now, you hear?"

"It isn't me I'm worried about."

Grit frowned. "Oh? Who, then?"

Sasha looked him directly in the eye. "You."

"Me?" Grit forced himself to chuckle. "Darlin', this ain't my first rodeo. I can take care of myself."

"You don't understand," she said, her voice firm. "Max gave Colin and I a message. He said that he was coming for you, and that nothing was going to stand in his way."

Sasha stopped and looked briefly away. When she met his gaze again, there was a sadness in her brown eyes that had not been there before.

"He said to tell you that this time, there would be no forgiveness."

Grit leant back, reeling from what he had just heard. He knew Max better than most people, and he knew the man did not make idle threats. Was it possible that things had already gone too far, that they were past the point of no return? Grit did not like that idea one bit. No forgiveness, he thought with renewed despondency. If they weren't careful, that sentiment would be the end of everything.

"I know Max," he said. "Better than he knows himself, I reckon, and I'm tellin' you, he just needs a bit of time. You'll see."

Grit faltered. Was it Sasha he was trying to convince, or himself?

"I hope you are right." Sasha's gaze turned downcast again. "I was unhappy with how we left things. Which leads me the favour I wanted to ask of you."

Grit gave her a sceptical look. "From what you've told me, I ain't sure I'm the best man to be putting in a word on your behalf."

She held up a hand to stop him. "I don't need you to put in a word, only to deliver one."

Grit watched as Sasha pulled a letter from her pocket. So that was what this was all about. She held the letter close to her chest as if she was afraid to part with it, and could not keep from casting a wary glance around her. There was nothing there. Only the continuous beat of the rain against the canvas and metal, but that did not seem to reassure Sasha.

"If you could see that this letter reaches Commander Max safely, I would be most grateful," she whispered.

"Sasha…" Grit shook his head. "I don't see how I'll have any more luck delivering that there letter than you will."

Her lip twitched a little, more like the memory of a smile than a smile itself. "You are an intelligent and resourceful man, Commander Grit. I am sure you will find a way."

Grit sighed. All the reasons he could think of not to take the letter seemed to fall away from him. This was clearly something that Sasha couldn't – or wouldn't – do herself, and she needed his help. He had no idea how he was going to put the letter in Max's hands, but it didn't matter. He'd find a way somehow.

His decision made, Grit accepted the letter from Sasha and slipped it safely inside his coat.

"One way or another, I'll make sure Max gets this," he assured her. "Don't you worry about that."

"Thank you, Commander. I am in your debt."

Grit began to slowly nod. "Best be runnin' along now, before someone wonders what it is we've been talking 'bout."

"You're right, of course. I–" Her brow pinched as if pained. "I'm sorry things have come to this."

"This ain't your doing, Sasha," Grit said. "You've got nothing to apologise for. Colin neither."

She did not appear entirely convinced, and as she left, she could not quite bear to look at him, hurrying away with her head bowed. Grit's bearing was pensive as he watched her go, mildly surprised at how much one conversation had changed his perspective. At least now he had a mission that meant something, even if only to Sasha.

Grit ambled out from beneath the awning, glancing up towards the overcast sky and the still falling rain. Unlike others, he didn't mind the rain. To him, it always felt clean and fresh, like waking up from a good night's sleep. A chance to wash away what was no longer needed.

As Grit walked, he pulled his coat around him to ward off the cold, but it did not trouble him. If anything, he felt strangely at peace as he made his way through the camp. There was nothing left for him to decide, to the extent that there had ever been. The world would keep on turning whether he wished it or not, and Grit no longer had any power to change its course.

His part in deciding Blue Moon's fate was done.

Chapter Text

It had begun in silence.

In the small hours of the morning, all communications from the south of Green Earth had abruptly ceased. A pall of silence had descended over the coast, too widespread and too difficult to breach to be a mere technical malfunction, or any kind of known cyber attack. No one had even been able to speculate what the cause might be. Soon a dozen agencies and organisations had started to investigate the mysterious blackout, all exploring different possible explanations – some technical and some natural, some by accident and some by design. The response had been scattered and confused, and it had cost them precious hours. From the Central Command Centre, Jess and Drake had issued a general alert and tried to comprehend what could possibly disrupt military communications to this extent. The fact that their most secure signals had been affected at all was reason enough to suspect that something was deeply wrong. Yet, with so little information, and such limited means of investigating, there had been no way to quickly ascertain the truth. And so, as the hours passed and no answers came, foreboding had hung heavy in the air. Before long it had bloomed into cold fear.

Eight hours passed before they finally managed to make contact with their island territories to the south. By then, the first reports had already started coming in from the mainland, and the true meaning of the silence had been confirmed.

Green Earth was under attack.

At first they had dared to hope that the scope of the assault was limited. Dared to hope that this was no more than a deadly raid, or a strike against one specific objective. In those first minutes after the news broke, the scattered distress calls and rumours of Black Hole activity had been focused on a specific region along the southern coast. In response they had mobilised an army with all haste, and sent it to engage the enemy. There had been nothing Jess and the other COs in the capital could do but wait as their troops raced towards the combat zone. Communications remained virtually non-existent, forcing them to rely on secure and short range systems, and as the hours continued to slip away without further word from the south, the fear that choked the very air had only continued its cancerous growth.

It was only then that the other reports had begun to come in. The enemy was not in one place, but three, striking at multiple points along Green Earth's southern peninsula. With no small effort, Drake and Jess had organised a series of reconnaissance missions to assess the situation on the ground. Getting through to their units trapped beneath the blanket of silence had proven impossible, but by combining units from outside the affected area with those stationed just inside it, they had been able to create multiple scouting parties while they began mustering troops for a larger counterattack. This time, the wait for news had been short. As Green Earth's first response teams had scouted the threatened regions, they had found only devastated ruins. Even with the difficulties imposed by the ongoing communication problems, the situation had soon become obvious. Black Hole was gone. The enemy, it seemed, had struck without warning, and withdrawn before Green Earth's military could even mount an effective response.

Jess could scarcely believe how woefully inadequate their defences had proven. Their early warning systems had done nothing, and the perimeter guard had been swept aside like so much chaff. Black Hole had simply appeared out of nowhere and struck multiple targets with impunity. It shouldn't have been possible. That was what Jess had repeatedly thought as she took charge of of the incoming reports, and started trying to assess the extent of the damage. Hours bled into a second day since the disruption began, and muddled updates from the south had continued trickling in. That was when Jess realised that Black Hole's forces were moving swiftly west from their original attack points, and they were striking at further targets as they did. This was nothing less than a coordinated effort to cripple military sites along Green Earth's entire southern coastline.

After that, there had been no time to try and organise a fully equipped response. Once it had become clear that the enemy was attacking targets in sequence, Green Earth had been left with no choice but to try and fight back with everything and anything they could muster. Jess had raced to analyse the data points they had, and track the movements of the enemy strike forces. Establishing their position and calculating a possible intercept had been a task fraught with difficulty, but she had managed it. Meanwhile, the task of coordinating troop movements across the country had fallen to Drake, and Jess did not envy him in it. They had only adapted to the new conditions to a limited extent, and the preparations for a counterattack, already hasty, had been adapted and reconfigured on the fly as the situation evolved. The resulting operation was a total shambles, but it was the best they could manage. Jess, Angel, and Matt had each flown out to take command of one of the assembling armies, and they had rushed to war.

Almost thirty hours after the silence had first descended over Green Earth, Jess found herself leading a column of armoured vehicles towards the coast, and into battle. She rode in a tank towards the middle of the formation, watching from the turret as her army approached its destination. They were driving towards a small port city in the country's southwest, where Green Earth's naval academy was located. Jess's recon teams had already confirmed that Black Hole was attacking the city, and even if they had not, the situation was obvious from the state of the highway. The road was choked with cars as civilians fled before the enemy's onslaught, all desperately trying to navigate the mess of congestion, collisions, and breakdowns. That was just another unforeseen obstacle Jess had struggled to overcome. Clearing the traffic at its worst points had taken much too long, and trying to avoid the chaos by cutting through open fields had been a disaster. At this time of year, the ground was soft and muddy, and trying to drive across it with heavy tanks had only cost them more minutes they could not afford.

Ahead Jess could see a small encampment set up by the roadside. The column had caught up with her advance teams, and not a moment too soon. She glanced down into the tank's interior.

"Time?" She asked.

"Eight fifteen," one of the crew replied.

Jess swore. They were running later than she'd thought. She leapt from the tank and ran to the roadside, where her scouts had set up a radio station. With communications still so unreliable, she and Drake had arranged a window to speak ahead of time, and done everything in their power to make sure the connection would function. Jess had no idea if their countermeasures would even prove effective; there was simply no frame of reference from which to hazard a guess. Whatever Black Hole was using to jam their signals, it was unlike anything she had ever encountered before. This was electronic warfare on an unprecedented scale.

All lights on the instrument panel showed positive as the signal came through. Jess lifted a pair of large headphones over her ears, adjusted the microphone, and inhaled. Time for the moment of truth.

"Drake?" She said. "Do you copy?"

For several seconds there was only silence, followed by a gush of blaring static. A look of consternation came over Jess. She shook her head at the radio's operator, and he began to adjust several settings. The static became a warble, then a high pitched whine, and then –

"-you hear me?" Drake's voice came through.

Jess breathed a sigh of relief and smiled. "I can now," she advised him. "It's good to hear your voice."

"I'll bet."

Her smile faded. "Talk to me, Drake. What's the situation? Have the others reported in?"

"No word from Angel or Matt just yet, but I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

A murmur of apprehension ran through Jess, soon overwritten by anger. What now?

"By the time I could get through to the nearest air base, it was too late," Drake continued. "When the local commandant heard about the attacks, he scrambled all available jets and sent them to engage the enemy. Of course, by the time they reached the nearest combat zone, Black Hole was already gone, so they returned to base. They're on the ground refuelling now."

Jess frowned. "Drake, I need that air support."

"I'm pulling everything I can and sending it to your position," he said, "but it's going to take time to get there."

"How much time?"

For a split second Drake hesitated. "Ninety minutes. Maybe a bit more."

"That's too long," Jess decided. "We're going in now."

"Is that a good idea?"

"We don't have a choice," she said. "Black Hole is ransacking the city as we speak. They don't know we're here yet and that gives us an advantage."

"Jess…" Drake hesitated. "Are you sure about this? You could find yourself in hot water if you attack without air or sea support."

"If we don't attack soon, we'll lose our window of opportunity," she pointed out. "They'll just withdraw and hit another target. I'm not going to let that happen. They've done enough damage already."

Drake went quiet. Jess knew he wouldn't accept her decision immediately; he had never been quite as decisive as either her or Eagle. Drake's instinct was to go on the defensive, and to protect what he could rather than launch an aggressive play. It was an effective command style, but it wasn't fit for the current situation. Jess was sure of that. Black Hole was moving rapidly, and there was no time to second guess themselves. They needed to launch a surgical strike and take out the enemy's combat capability in one fell swoop. Jess was all too aware that they had few good options, but so far as she could see, this was the best one.

They had to do something to fight back. To defend their country. Ever since the news had reached the capital and the full extent of the attack had become clear, Jess had been coming at the situation from all sides, trying to find a better strategy, a better solution. There was none. Her analysis had shown that time and again. They couldn't afford to wait for reinforcements from Orange Star, presuming their ally could even spare them at all. Nor could they do nothing, and let events take their course. It was imperative to minimise the damage by any means possible, and that meant taking swift and decisive action. No, Jess told herself again, there was no choice but to fight.

"Alright," Drake said at last. "How can I help?"

Jess felt a wave of gratitude for his support. Strictly speaking, Drake did not have the authority to overrule her, but she didn't want to attack without his backing. Green Earth's commanders worked best when they could come to a consensus.

"The highway is full of civilians fleeing the city," Jess said. "I've left a handful of troops to protect them, but they're going to need a proper relief effort before long. It's bedlam out there."

"I'll see what I can do," Drake replied. "Anything else?"

She took a short breath. "Just send me all the reinforcements you can spare. We're going to need them."

"Understood."

"I'll try to contact you again at thirteen hundred hours," Jess added. "Can you have another secure channel set up then?"

"I certainly can." Drake paused. "And Jess? Be careful. We still don't know exactly what we're dealing with here."

"Don't worry, Drake." Jess said with a slight smile. "I'm always careful."

"Hmm."

"We'll speak again soon," she assured him. "Jess out."

She nodded to the radio operator, and he cut the signal. Jess returned the headphones to their place, her expression hardening as she studied the cityscape looming before her. There were plumes of smoke rising above the port, wending away as the sky grew steadily paler, but they told her nothing she did not already know. Jess had fought her way across Macro Land during the Second Great War, and she was well acquainted with how Black Hole treated cities and civilians.

Jess turned to an officer who was taking in reports at the radio station.

"Are we ready to move yet?" She asked.

He shook his head. "Almost, ma'am."

A sour twist crossed Jess's lips. She had wanted her army in position long before now, but there was nothing more she could do to accelerate the process. Instead she took advantage of the pause to try and anticipate what challenges lay ahead. Without knowing the composition of the enemy force, it was hard to predict what kind of fight they were in for. Jess's armoured column was powerful, but small. It was probable that she was outmatched. In fact, that was practically a given. In the previous wars Black Hole had demonstrated a penchant both for deploying an overwhelming amount of firepower, and for using it poorly. Jess knew that her army was almost certainly outnumbered and outgunned, but so long as she played it smart, she was was certain she could find a path to victory.

The officer Jess had spoken to earlier waved to her. "Commander, our rearguard is coming into position now."

"And are our rocket units ready to engage?"

"All except unit three," he said. "They need another ten minutes."

Jess swore again. They should have been ready by now, she thought with no small frustration. Mishaps and delays had plagued the hastily organised counterattack from the beginning, every error and mistake compounded by the communications blackout. The original plan had been to drive through the night and attack at dawn with the morning fog to provide cover. Now, however, the sun was inching steadily higher into the sky and the fog was dissipating; once it was gone they would lose the element of surprise completely. As soon as Black Hole realised they were under attack, they would shift to a defensive posture, or perhaps even withdraw from the port entirely. Jess couldn't afford to let that happen. She needed to hit them hard, and eliminate enough of the enemy force to prevent them from threatening any other targets on Green Earth soil.

Jess closed her eyes. Ready or not, there was only one choice.

"Signal all units," she ordered. "We attack immediately."

Jess left the radio operator to his task and jogged back to her tank. There was nothing more she needed to say. Her force had already been briefed on their objectives, and everyone knew what they had to do. Under the current circumstances, it was even more important than usual that her troops understood their strategic goals, and had the latitude to act on their own initiative. With communications so erratic, Jess couldn't assume she would always have a clear picture of the battle, and nor could she count on being able to issue orders in a timely manner.

As a result, she had kept her attack plan simple. Jess had split her army into two as she approached the port. Her main group would enter the city from the north along the main highway, while the second force approached from the east to outflank the enemy. By attacking from multiple directions, Jess hoped to trap and destroy as many Black Hole units as possible. Their primary objective was to sweep through the city, making their way through the streets until they reached the southwest side, where Green Earth's naval academy overlooked the ocean. Jess strongly suspected that was Black Hole's main target, and she intended to prevent it from falling if at all possible. Once they broke through to the academy, Jess and her force would have a secure location from which to assess the situation, consolidate their position, and drive any remaining enemy troops out of the city. A simple plan, but Jess was confident it would prove effective.

The rumble of heavy engines and the clanking of treads filled the morning as Jess's armoured force picked up speed, heading towards the city limits. Jess left behind small radio teams at regular intervals as they moved in. Communications were too unreliable beyond short range, so she needed to rely on them to relay her messages and maintain contact with the rest of her troops. Their progress was quick as the world around Jess turned from open space to suburban sprawl. There were still crashed and abandoned cars scattered along the road, but the northern part of the city was devoid of life. Those still inside the city were the ones who had sought shelter rather than flee, and from what Jess could tell so far, any Black Hole units were concentrated in the south side of the port, closer to the coast.

Her com device chirped once. Jess glanced at it and saw a message from her group's radio team had came through.

"Go ahead," she said.

"Beta group reports contact with the enemy, ma'am. They've encountered light resistance so far, and are proceeding as planned."

"Acknowledged. Jess out."

At least that much was going well, Jess thought as she scanned the highway. She had no direct line of sight to any Black Hole troops from her current position, but Jess knew they were there. The evidence was all around. Further towards the coast, fires burned and smoke continued to spew into the morning sky, all underwritten by distant explosions growing in volume. Jess could feel herself growing more tense as she considered that. Black Hole knew they were under attack, and what happened next would come down to how they responded.

Jess's attack group was well and truly inside the city now. The roadside was dominated by increasingly tall buildings, and parked cars were everywhere. Jess didn't like it. Everything was too quiet. The highway had reached its end and transferred to an ordinary suburban road, and still there was no sign of the enemy.

"Commander, problem!" A gunner from one of the tanks ahead shouted.

"I see it," Jess called back.

Just past the next intersection, two semi-trailers had collided, tipping onto their sides and completely blocking the road. Jess's mind raced to consider her options. It would would take far too long to move the trucks, even if she had the proper equipment. Trying to blow them up and force a way through was risky, and unlikely to work. No, she decided, the best option was simply to go around. Leaving the main road was itself a risk; her heavy tanks were not built for narrow suburban streets, and they could easily become trapped, but it was the still safest – and quickest – option to bypass the crash. Jess scanned beyond the crashed trucks. She could see another major intersection almost a kilometre ahead. With a little luck, they could circle around the crash via a side street and reenter the road there.

Jess lifted her com. "Turn right at this intersection. We'll take a side street and rejoin the main road when we get the chance."

"Understood, ma'am."

The column slowed to take the turn. Ahead, the medium tanks Jess had assigned to take point rounded the corner, moving down the next road at a crawl as they assessed what lay ahead. Then came a new sound, the buzz of approaching helicopter rotors. Jess looked to the sky. Two units of Black Hole attack copters had emerged from behind the high rise buildings of the city centre, and they were approaching fast.

"Anti-airs, forward!" Jess ordered.

Caught in an awkward position as they rounded the corner, Jess's troops had no room to manoeuvre. The first group of copters loosed their missiles and wheeled away before her anti-airs were even ready to fire. Jess braced herself as explosions rocked the armoured column. Some of the missiles went wide, but more found their mark, slamming into her tanks. The second unit moved in, loosing another wave of missiles before being met with a storm of bullets as her anti-airs opened fire. The enemy copters never stood a chance. They were obliterated in seconds, blown to pieces in the sky even as their missiles took a further toll among the Green Earth tanks.

Jess had barely acknowledged that small success when motion caught her eye at the intersection. Black Hole soldiers were emerging from hidden positions, unleashing an onslaught of gunfire and anti-tank rounds. There was nothing her troops could do. Her anti-airs took the brunt of the attack. They were exposed, and the front of the column was too tightly packed to allow any evasive movements. Rapidly Jess issued new orders, directing her vehicles to return fire while her infantry disembarked to keep the enemy soldiers pinned.

The intense exchange of fire did not last long. Jess soon brought her superior firepower to bear and eliminated any attackers, but the damage was done. In addition to the anti-airs, one tank platoon had been completely destroyed, and another three tanks were damaged or disabled. There was no time to adjust the plan, and Jess ordered her force to keep moving. She left several transports to evacuate the wounded, along with the crews of her disabled and destroyed tanks. Meanwhile the group of enemy copters that had evaded fire continued to retreat, disappearing again as Jess's troops proceeded down a side street. Jess watched them go with mounting apprehension. She was running out of tools to deal with enemy air units. First her air support had fallen through, and now the ambush had destroyed her anti-air vehicles. Hopefully the anti-airs she had sent in with the second attack force were still functional.

With that in mind she activated her com. "Radio, tell Beta group there's a unit of battle copters heading their way. We need them taken out."

"Yes ma'am."

Jess and her troops continued moving through the streets as the orders were relayed. A relative calm had descended after the deafening noise of the battle, the city returned to its former state of distant rumblings, muffled explosions, and crackling fires, all buried by the heavy roar of tank and truck engines. The armoured vehicles made slow progress down the narrow, winding streets as they moved gradually towards rejoining the main road. There was something surreal about the passage of dozens of emerald tanks down ordinary suburban streets. It was a melding of worlds that Jess's brain could not quite reconcile; a show of military force in a scene of idyllic, ordinary life, and a backdrop filled with the sound and fury of a city in turmoil.

Her com chirped again. "Go ahead," Jess answered.

"Beta group's hit a strong enemy position, ma'am. They've lost two Neotanks, and they can't break through."

"Understood," Jess said. "Tell Beta to find a secure position and take cover. We'll swing around and relieve them when we get the chance."

Jess's voice was calm and steady as she issued the directions, but she was concerned by the news, far more than she let show. Neotanks were rare and costly war machines, and she had assigned her only unit to the flanking force. She'd hoped their formidable power would allow the smaller attack group to break through any resistance; apparently, in vain. Jess exhaled in a frustrated snort. Very little had gone according to plan in the past few days, and it was beginning to wear on her.

Jess and her group soon turned back onto the main road again and continued towards the sea, fewer in number than before, but only more determined to drive the enemy from their land. The way forward was mostly clear, and there were no obvious spots for another ambush. Jess ordered her units to accelerate, and they were soon speeding down the road, rapidly closing the distance to their goal. Soon the column came to the crest of a hill. From there, it was a gradual descent down to the coast, and for the first time that morning Jess had eyes on the academy grounds, dominated by the imposing Gothic architecture of the academy's main building. What she saw was encouraging. The ships assigned to the academy were burning in the sea, and the campus was shrouded in thick smog and dotted with coruscating flames, but the main building appeared intact.

There was a more pressing problem, however. With a clearer view of the sea, Jess could see great blasts coming from an ominous grey shape lurking offshore. A Black Hole battleship. She had only just processed what she was looking at when the battleship's shells struck along the road ahead, throwing up furious geysers of flame and force as they impacted towards one side of the asphalt. One shell went wide and a nearby shopfront was simply wiped from existence.

"All units, halt," Jess shouted into her com. "Radio, tell our rockets to get a lock on that battleship and fire!"

Jess felt her stomach clench as she waited for the order to be relayed. Driving into that level of enemy fire was suicide, but to delay only gave whatever Black Hole troops were assaulting the academy more time to prepare. It was almost intolerable. Worse, what if the enemy had set up advanced point defences? Without air or naval support, her options were limited. If her rocket units couldn't disable or destroy the battleship, she was in deep trouble.

Rockets sped by overhead, little more than blurs against the pale sky. They covered the city in seconds, converging on the enemy vessel and blasting straight into its deck and hull. Jess was too far away to accurately judge the extent of the damage, and she could do little more than hope it was enough to disable the ship. A second volley of rockets hit, and this time, a colossal fireball went up from the battleship's forward gun turret, engulfing the whole ship in flames and casting an eerie glow across the dark water. The damage was more than Jess could have hoped for. Based on the sheer size of the explosion, she could only speculate that a rocket had detonated the powder magazine. Whatever the case, the results were devastating: the Black Hole battleship was visibly listing, black smoke billowing from its hull as it began to slip beneath the waves.

Jess ordered the advance. She had dealt the enemy a heavy blow, and the road to the academy was clear. It was exactly the opening she needed. Her vehicles skirted the craters left by the battleship's shelling as they drove downhill, heading straight to the end of the main road, where it entered a large square outside the naval academy. Jess's tanks were drawing closer now, and through the gaps in the nearby buildings and houses she could see glimpses of movement ahead. This was it. This was where Black Hole's troops were concentrated, and it was where the battle for the port would be decided.

Jess felt a rush of adrenaline and hope as they entered the square. It was apparent at a glance that any attempt on the enemy's part to storm the main building had failed. Black Hole's troops were caught outside, spread throughout the academy grounds, and their attention was fixed to their front. The far side of the square was filled with enemy vehicles, tanks and transports providing cover and fire support to the waves of suited soldiers. The campus's outer walls and checkpoints were in ruins, but Jess could see makeshift barricades scattered throughout the grounds, and behind them small flashes and bursts of movement. The situation was better than she had dared to expect. The enemy's assault force was trapped between the academy and her armoured forces, Jess realised with growing elation, and their rear lines were completely unprotected. They were exposed, and they were vulnerable.

Jess drew herself to her full height and waved to the other tanks. The path to victory was clear. All she had to do was seize it.

"All units, forward!" She shouted. "We press on to the academy, together!"

A cheer went up from her troops. As one they surged forward, unleashing a torrent of fire against the unprepared foe. Black Hole's tanks and infantry tried to rally, to turn and fight, but to no avail. Jess's medium tanks were already charging into their lines, blasting holes in their formation and exploiting the breaches with clinical precision. Her troops took some counter fire, but the damage was small compared to the devastation inflicted on the enemy. Grey vehicles were wrecked with every shot, and those inhuman soldiers in their pressure suits fell in droves. They had nowhere to run, no cover to find. They were completely exposed, and they knew it; as the second wave of the assault hit, what remained of the Black Hole force massed outside the academy broke and ran.

Jess scanned the square, the entrance drive, and what she could see of the academy grounds. The Black Hole infantry and support troops were deserting their positions as their armoured vehicles were obliterated, scattering in all directions through the streets. It was nothing less than a complete rout. The enemy force assaulting the academy was in tatters, fleeing towards the docks, or else towards any meagre shelter that was left. Small bursts of fire from the naval academy itself continued to take a toll on their numbers, a sight that brought Jess no small comfort. As the enemy force fled the grounds, she noticed several stacks of strange bundles left behind. Some kind of explosive, perhaps, but they did not seem to be in any position to cause a breach or bring down a building. Jess frowned. Whatever they were, she could worry about them later.

"All units, hold," she ordered. "Do not pursue. I repeat, do not pursue."

It was not a difficult decision to make. Much as Jess wanted to wipe the city clean of any Black Hole troops, she knew her position was still precarious. Her priority was to secure the academy and reinforce her army with its personnel. Once that was done, and she had an updated picture of the situation, they could move to relieve Beta group and take back the city.

Jess was about to issue new orders when a faint whine reached her ears.

"Commander," someone yelled, "the skies!"

Her focus shifted upwards. A pair of enemy bombers were descending from high altitude, and they were headed towards her position. They had been waiting out of sight until now, Jess deduced, taking advantage of the heavy cloud cover to conceal themselves.

"Any anti-airs, target those bombers, now!" She shouted into her com. "Take them out!"

It was only a second later Jess remembered that her anti-airs had been destroyed. She needed another answer. Missiles. She had long range surface to air missiles in her arsenal, further back along the highway where she had deployed them to cover her rearguard.

Jess whirled about to face her group's communications team. "Tell our missile trucks to bring those bombers down!"

The operator did not even wait for her to finish the sentence to begin relaying the message. He knew the urgency of it; they all did. They were exposed in the square, and there was no time to disperse. The roads were strewn with debris and ruined vehicles, and it would take too long to traverse them. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. As those few seconds ticked by, Jess's mind worked in overdrive, analysing the situation to determine its outcome. How long would it take for her orders to reach the missiles? Twenty, perhaps twenty-five seconds. That long again to acquire a lock and fire, plus time to target…

Jess looked back up at the diving bombers, realisation dawning in her eyes. They weren't going to make it.

"Take cover!" She screamed.

Time sped up again. Something in the academy courtyard began to flash, a small light blinking on and off. A beacon of some kind. Everything was happening at once, and there was nothing more Jess could do to change it. She heard the enemy bombers passing overhead, then the sound of falling bombs, followed by blasts in the sky as her missiles found their mark.

Too late.

Her troops had barely enough to time to arrest their forward momentum before the bombs hit the ground. A great roar filled Jess's ears as they detonated, setting off the explosives that the Black Hole troops had already planted, and the world before her was engulfed in fire. The last thing she saw was the front of the academy's main building as it simply crumbled and fell. There came a seismic rumble that overpowered her senses, followed by a wall of dust and smoke racing through the square.

And then the full force of the explosion hit her.

Jess felt a wave of heat rush over her, before she was thrown clear of the tank and slammed into the ground. Everything went black. Her head was spinning, her hearing and vision gone. She could not think, her perception reduced to the most primal awareness of her body. All Jess could feel was intense pain as she teetered on the precipice between waking and unconsciousness. A sharp, stabbing pain in her head, a throbbing in her chest. A fire in her ribs that forced the breath from her lungs. Nothing existed outside of her self, and Jess had no idea how long she lingered in that state of torment. Time no longer had any meaning.

Gradually, other sensations returned to her. The world became a blur of black and red, and although her head still spun, the ground beneath her at least felt solid again. Above all Jess could sense constant waves of vibration. They were sounds, she realised through a dull haze, sounds she could not properly hear. Explosions and gunfire, casting further tremors through the city. The battle was still raging.

The battle. Another bolt of pain shot through Jess as she tried to move. With every scrap of willpower she possessed, Jess forced herself to hold on to that thought, even as her injuries threatened to drag her deeper into the darkness. She had to act. She had to do something before the battle was lost. The sounds around her were becoming more distinct now. How long had she been teetering on the brink of unconsciousness? Jess did not know, and it did not matter. She breathed in, ignoring the ache in her chest, and did her best to blink. One eye would not answer, and Jess began to perceive that she could not see out of it. Fear struck her in that moment, fear like she had never known before. She didn't know the extent of her injuries, didn't know if the battle was already over, and didn't know if there was anything she could do to save her troops. No, she thought with rising panic. Jess cried out in agony as she tried to pull herself upright. She had to act, she had to do something –

"This one's alive," a strange voice said.

Jess froze. It was no human who spoke, but a Black Hole soldier. In desperation she tried again to move, to crawl forward and get away, but it was no use. Her legs would not respond, and even the smallest movements were excruciating. Then Jess felt hands take hold of her, and her panic turned to complete and utter terror.

The world spun again as they lifted her up. Jess blinked furiously, still trying to clear her vision. She managed to put one hand to her brow, feeling the eye that would not open. It was covered in blood, streaming from a gash on her forehead, and clotted shut. Jess gritted her teeth and focused on what she could see with her other eye.

The images were disjointed, broken by bursts of blurred vision and moments when everything spun. The burning, blackened shell of a destroyed tank. A road strewn with cars and bodies in green uniforms. The shell of a building blasted apart by cannon fire. The images were disjointed, but every one told the same story of ruin and suffering. No matter where she looked, all Jess saw was defeat. A wave of despair overwhelmed her, and for a moment she blacked out again, only to be jolted back awake as she was thrown to the ground, and every pain and hurt was set freshly ablaze.

"Lord Adder," that same voice said. "We've captured the enemy commander!"

"Have we now?" A raspy voice replied. "Well, isn't that simply delicious."

Adder, Jess realised. That was who the soldier had been addressing. He was standing just in front of her, two high heeled boots coming into focus right before her eyes. A shiver ran through Jess. Whilst she had never encountered the man before, she had studied his dossier, and she was familiar enough with his deeds to know the danger she was in.

The sick feeling in Jess' stomach rose up again. How could she have let this happen?

"You!" She heard Adder shout. "Open a line to Flare. She needs to know about my glorious triumph here."

Jess kept blinking. The swimming feeling in her head had subsided to a constant throb, and her blurred vision had almost returned to normal. She managed to crane her head back and watch as the Black Hole soldiers around Adder carried out his orders, bringing him some sort of sophisticated communication setup. A series of affirmative beeps announced that the line was open.

"What's your status, Adder?" A husky voice came through.

Jess did not recognise this new voice, but she knew it could only belong to Flare.

"My status…" Adder could not help but laugh again. "I almost don't know how to answer that. So much has happened, and there have been so many delightful little surprises…"

"Get to the point," Flare said. "Green Earth is mobilising as we speak. Flak and Toad have already encountered enemy forces. Have you been attacked as well?"

Adder sniffed. "I wouldn't describe such a pitiful effort as an attack, only the desperate flailing of the weak."

"I'll take that as a yes," Flare commented, her tone souring further.

"Yes, Green Earth has attacked me," Adder confirmed, "and they've been dealt with. My victory couldn't be more complete. I've even got a present for you… the enemy commander."

"You've captured a Green Earth CO?"

Jess wasn't sure, but she thought she heard a sceptical note enter Flare's voice. If it was there, Adder took no notice of it. Instead a smirk crossed his thin lips as he leant in closer to Jess, holding the device out towards her.

"Why don't you say hello to Flare, my dear?"

Jess tried to spit in his ugly, pale face, but she could not find the strength. All she could manage was to send a trickle of spit and blood running down her own chin.

"It seems our guest lacks the strength to speak," Adder said. "How sad."

He burst into another fit of mocking laughter, his smirk growing wider with every passing moment.

"In fact," he continued, "I think I've earned some time to myself. And I know exactly where I'll start… by wiping this miserable little city from the face of the earth."

"You'll do no such thing," Flare said.

Adder's expression fell. "But –"

"Are you questioning me, Adder?"

In an instant any remaining mirth was wiped from Adder's face, replaced by nervous alarm. Even in her current state, Jess found some glimmer of satisfaction in seeing him squirm.

"N- no. Of course not." Adder hesitated. "I – I would never question you, Flare."

"See that you don't," she said, her voice heavy with scorn. "Our liege chose me to oversee the war effort on his behalf, and he chose me to command this operation. You'd do well to remember that."

"What…" Adder swallowed. "What are your orders, then?"

"Withdraw immediately. If Green Earth forces have already made contact, then a larger army won't be far behind, and that won't be so easily defeated." Flare paused. "We've done what we set out to do. Let's not give the enemy a chance to inflict any more casualties."

"And the prisoners?"

"Bring their CO to our base in the west, and send any others to Brown Nebula." Another pause. "And Adder? The prisoners are not to be harmed."

Adder said nothing.

"Do you understand me?" Flare asked, her husky voice cold as ice.

"Yes." Adder blinked several times. "I'll do as you command."

"Then we have nothing further to discuss."

Jess heard another sequence of beeps. The connection, she surmised, had been terminated. Adder let out a long hiss like a snake, scowling like a child that had been scolded. With great effort, Jess managed to look him in the eye.

"I don't think she likes you very much," Jess said.

Adder's gaze flicked down to her, his scowl souring further. His sunken eyes turned to cruel slits as considered what she had just said. Then, with deliberate precision, he took a single step forward and brought the heel of his boot down on her finger. There was an audible crack. A moment later Jess was hit by excruciating pain, and despite her best attempts, she could not stifle a scream.

"Lord Adder…" one of the soldiers said. "We were told that the prisoners weren't to be harmed…"

Adder smiled as he stepped back, his smug air returning.

"We didn't harm the prisoner," he corrected the soldier. "She was injured during the battle. Nothing more."

Adder stopped to snicker at his own lie. Jess was barely aware of what was happening. Her broken finger had sent renewed shock waves of agony through her body, pushing her to the verge of unconsciousness again, but she could still hear that laugh, high and cruel.

"Get that filthy wretch onto the ship," Jess heard Adder say, "and tell our forces to pull out. We're leaving."

Jess felt hands take hold of her again. She was losing consciousness, barely able to distinguish between what was happening around her and the pains coursing through her body. Her grip on the world was slipping away. Jess no longer had the energy to process what she sensed or felt, could no longer focus on anything that mattered. There was only fear and darkness, laced with the echoes of Adder's horrible laughter. As the world faded to nothing and all that was turned to black, Jess found the last thing she knew was a short, simple thought, hammering itself into her mind like the beat of a parade drum.

She had failed.

Chapter Text

"How did this happen?" Nell asked, her voice quiet and calm.

There was no answer. The War Room was silent, save for its soft array of humming machinery and working computers. The main chamber was almost empty. Nell had convened the emergency meeting on extremely short notice, and only Eagle had been able to accompany her in person. Andy, Sami and Drake had joined the conference via video link, along with one of Green Earth's new commanders, but Max and Rachel were occupied elsewhere. Theirs was the unenviable task of commanding the main front with Blue Moon, where the war smouldered with fighting that was low in intensity, but near constant. There was only one item on the meeting's agenda: the attack on Green Earth. The sudden offensive had ended almost as quickly as it had begun, but in the fallout they were left with no shortage of hard questions.

"They came out of nowhere," Eagle said, his voice low and seething. "They were inside our defences before we knew what was happening."

Nell sighed. It might not have been the most detailed assessment of the situation, but it was accurate enough. Black Hole had struck with remarkable speed. By the time word reached Orange Star of the attack on Green Earth, it was too late. The enemy had already been withdrawing, leaving a trail of ruin in their wake, and with every new piece of information that came to light, the picture only grew worse.

One thing was already clear; the strikes had been meticulously planned. As soon as one target had been crippled or destroyed, the Black Hole troops had vanished, never lingering longer than necessary. The movements of the three attack forces had been carefully staged to sweep through as many valuable targets as possible, in as short a time as possible. They had inflicted heavy damage on military bases, airports, and even a portion of the Green Earth fleet at anchor. It would take time to determine the full extent of the destruction, but the outlook was grim. Even before this, it had been apparent that Green Earth's ability to fight was limited. Now? It was an open question whether Green Earth could even protect their borders, let alone contribute to any wider campaign. And with the war against Blue Moon raging on, there was little chance that Orange Star could shoulder the burden alone.

It was nothing less than a complete disaster. The world was burning, and they were helpless to stop it. Not so long ago, their four countries had come together to defeat a terrible foe. Now? They were divided, standing separate and bleeding each other dry, and the worst part was that this time, they knew the danger in doing so. They knew the danger and it had made no difference at all.

Nell sighed again. No matter how bad things were, there was little choice but to keep fighting. Negotiating a peace with Black Hole was simply not an option. All they could do was focus on solving the small problems, and hope that in doing so they might find a path towards tackling the big ones. There would be time enough to analyse how this changed the strategic calculus later. Right now, the challenge was simply to assess what had happened and decide how to respond. Nell breathed deeply in as she reminded herself of that. One step at a time.

"Walk me through this from the beginning," she said, looking from Eagle, leaning heavily on the table with his head bowed, to Drake, whose image was displayed on the main screen of the War Room. "How did this happen?"

"It started with widespread communication problems in the south," Drake replied, his round face heavy with sorrow. "Worse than anything I've ever seen. No one believed it could be a cyber attack or jamming signal, so we were slow to realise what was really going on, I'm afraid. And once we did, we were caught off guard by just how wide Black Hole cast their net."

"You think the blackout was caused by some kind of new Black Hole weapon?" Sami asked.

"Well, it's not at all clear how they managed it, but…" Drake shook his head helplessly. "I don't see what other explanation there could be."

Nell allowed herself a few seconds to consider that. Throughout the course of the previous wars, Black Hole had grown increasingly dependent on outlandish superweapons and shows of overt power. This was different. More subtle. A weapon like this was not designed to cause large scale destruction, but to sow confusion and disarray. It marked a substantial shift in the enemy's strategy, and Nell was not yet sure of its significance.

"I think we have to assume that Black Hole can disrupt communications on a scale beyond anything we've ever seen before," Nell agreed. "We'll need to study what happened, and try to develop countermeasures."

"Already on it, ma'am," the man standing next to Drake said with a single nod.

The man wore a blue uniform with short sleeves, and a cap bearing the emblem of the Green Earth coast guard. He could not have been more different to Drake. Where the naval captain was short and round, this man was tall, broad shouldered, and fit.

"Thank you, Commander…" Nell realised she did not remember the name of this new CO.

"Matt, ma'am."

"Thank you, Commander Matt," she finished, making sure to give the man a small smile by way of apology.

"Javier is an expert in military communications, isn't he?" Sami said. "Could we get his input?"

"He's currently in charge of the Omega Land garrison," Drake replied, "but we're sending him all the data we have."

Nell acknowledged that with a bob of her head. "What happened next?"

"We started getting reports that Black Hole had attacked a port in the south east," Drake continued, "so our standing reserve shipped out to fight them off."

"Which meant they were moving in the opposite direction to Black Hole's strike forces," Eagle added, his voice tinged with furious venom.

Drake winced. "Aye. It cost us too much time, and it meant we had fewer troops at the ready when it became clear what the foe was really up to."

"That sounds like Flare," Andy blurted out. "That's how she thinks."

Eagle raised an eyebrow. "One battle with the woman does not make you an expert on her psychology, Andy."

His tone was sceptical, and the anger lurking in his voice had not dissipated, but he showed enough restraint not to inflict it on Andy. If nothing else, Nell was grateful for that much.

"Well…" Andy frowned. "No. But she did do something like that to me. Maybe it's her style? She knows what you're thinking, and that's how she tricks you."

Andy fell silent, visibly struggling to articulate what he meant.

"You think this fits with Black Hole's pattern of subterfuge?" Sami asked.

"Yeah, I guess," Andy said.

It was hardly a confident answer, Nell noted. She couldn't help but wonder if Andy actually knew what the word subterfuge meant.

"Well, whatever the buccaneers intended, things moved fast after that," Drake continued. "Jess and I managed to locate the attacking forces. We scraped together all the units we could, formed them into armies, and sent them to engage the enemy on all three fronts."

"Three battles were fought," Nell said. "And two of them ended in total defeat."

That much she already knew from the early reports. In the space of forty eight hours, three pitched battles had been fought along the coast of Green Earth, and two of them had ended in catastrophe. It was the part of the news that had most shocked Nell, and she had not yet managed to digest the full implications of it.

"That's right," Drake confirmed for everyone present. "Jess, Angel, and Matt here each took command of one army. We all knew we were in for rough sailing, but none of us expected things to go this badly."

Drake stopped and reached for a glass of water, taking a long swig before he resumed speaking.

"I received reports from Jess's troops first, about three hours after she launched her attack. Jess had pushed in deep when the tide turned against her. It's still not clear exactly what happened, but we know the battle went very badly. Almost a total rout."

"And Jess herself was taken as a prisoner, along with many of her troops," Eagle interjected. There was a sudden crash as he slammed his hands down on the table. "I should have been there," he burst out. "I should have been there to protect Green Earth, rather than wasting time patrolling your coast!"

"We couldn't have anticipated this," Nell replied, refusing to react to such outrage. "None of us believed Green Earth's defences could be…" she hesitated, searching for words that would not offend Eagle. "Could be compromised like this."

Eagle gave a small snort of contempt. It was hardly a professional response, but under the circumstances, Nell was willing to tolerate it. Up until a point.

She looked back to Drake's screen. "And the other battles?"

"It was Matt who reported in next," Drake replied. "He had better news, thankfully."

"You defeated a Black Hole army?" Andy asked Matt. "Cool."

Matt gave a slight shrug. "Stalemate one, more like. We secured an old coastal fort and held our ground. Gave better than we took until Black Hole was forced to withdraw. Their CO wasn't too happy about that."

"And who was the enemy CO?" Nell queried.

"Said his name was Toad. Older man, pasty skin. Bald on top with green hair."

"Based on Matt's description, I'd say this Toad is our mystery man from Brown Nebula," Drake said. "Which seems to confirm this new Black Hole Army is building influence there."

Nell glanced at the world map on the side wall. It was another way in which this new threat was unlike those that had preceded it. Black Hole had never concerned itself with allies before, at least, not overtly. Their stated goal had been indiscriminate conquest. There had to be some connection here, some logic to these changes in the enemy's strategy. Were they merely a reflection of Flare's preferences and methods, or something more? Nell could not even begin to guess.

"A few hours after I heard from Matt, I received word that the last counterattack had gone badly," Drake finished. "Angel was defeated by Flak in the west. Footage from the scene suggests her forces were cut off and surrounded. It appears many of them were captured alive, including Angel."

Two defeats, and two COs captured. Nell could scarcely believe it was possible. Angel was one of Green Earth's new generation of commanders, and might have been untested in battle, but Jess was an experienced and highly capable leader. For her to have been defeated like this was a frightening reminder of just how dangerous Black Hole could be.

A strange, choked noise rang through the room. It took Nell a second to realise that it was laughter, and it was coming from Sami.

Sami was laughing, but the sound was twisted and bitter, as if she could barely manage to force each tortured burst from her throat. Nell could do nothing but stare at Sami's monitor with mounting apprehension. Something was terribly wrong. Of all her commanders, she had thought Sami most likely to keep a cool head and stay calm under pressure, but watching her now was like looking at a stranger. Sami's lips were twisted into a vindictive smirk, and there was only smoking rage in her eyes. It made no sense to Nell at all, and she found herself at a loss for words.

"Angel was defeated by Flak," Sami repeated, her voice dripping with scorn. "Unbelievable. I'm sorry, Eagle, but did you actually train her at all? Or were you too distracted to bother?"

Eagle's head whipped sharply around, sending a quiver through his spiked hair. "Sami, this is not the time," he said in a terse voice.

"Of course it's not," Sami snapped. "How stupid of me. That's for you to decide, just like everything else. You decide when we talk, and when we don't. You decide what happens. Everything's on your terms, isn't it?"

"Stop acting like a child," Eagle retorted, anger flashing in his eyes. "This helps no one. We have more important things to deal with right now."

Nell was still too stunned to speak. She could only watch as Eagle and Sami flung accusations at each other, and by the look of it, everyone else felt much the same. Andy's eyes were wide as saucers, as if he couldn't quite believe either of his friends was speaking this way, and Drake appeared trapped in a sort of helpless despair. Even Matt, who thus far had seemed mostly curt and unflappable, was watching in mute disbelief. All eyes were on Eagle and Sami, though of them neither seemed to realise it. They were both so consumed by whatever fight this was that they had forgotten anyone else was there.

"Don't worry, Eagle," Sami spat. "I know exactly how important I was to you. You've made that perfectly clear."

"You know nothing!" Eagle hissed back.

That had wounded him, deeply wounded him. All the pain and fury that had been simmering since the news from Green Earth reached them came suddenly to the boil, destroying any control or restraint Eagle had left. He was almost shaking with anger, and the sight sent a bolt of pure panic through Nell. This had to be stopped. If they fought amongst themselves like this, they were doomed.

"Enough!" Nell shouted, coming to her senses at last.

The interruption seemed to startle both of them. All at once Eagle and Sami realised that their vicious fight was on display for their colleagues to see. It was only a small reminder of where they were, but it had interrupted the cycle of recrimination and barbed insults, and now, there was only silence. Nell studied them both closely, trying to find any sign that this fight would resume, but she found none. Eagle and Sami were still glaring at each other, but neither of them broke the uneasy truce.

"Enough," Nell repeated, more softly this time. "Let's take a short break. We'll reconvene in five minutes."

"I think that's a grand idea," Drake agreed. "Eagle?"

Eagle's eyes flicked away from Sami. He said nothing, but gave a dismissive wave that must have been meant to indicate assent, for he turned and strode out of the War Room without another another word.

Nell allowed herself to exhale and relax, ever so slightly. The two of them were separated now, and in distance and solitude, their bitter feelings might have a chance to cool. In their wake, a stunned sort of malaise had settled over the room. No one knew what to make of such acrimony, and it was paralysing.

In the end it was Andy who broke the silence, shaking his head in genuine bewilderment.

"I'm definitely missing something," he said, more to himself than anyone else.

Nell sighed in sympathy. She didn't know the details of what had happened between Sami and Eagle, but what she could deduce was alarming enough. That they had not parted on good terms was obvious. Nor had it escaped Nell's notice that Angel's name had provoked Sami. It seemed the new Green Earth commander was involved in this mess somehow, and that was an uncomfortable notion indeed. Clearly it was a problem that was not going to resolve itself. Nell sighed again. This was just one more unpredictable factor she needed to keep under control, and nor could she wait to do so. This could not go unaddressed.

"Sami, I'd like a word with you," Nell said, making an effort to keep her tone polite.

"Can't it wait?" Sami muttered.

"It wasn't a request," Nell said, her voice hardening. She turned to the technicians operating the room's equipment. "Mute all channels except for Commander Sami, and give us the room, please."

With a nod the two operators did so. The heavy doors swung shut behind them, and then Nell and Sami were alone. There was a hint of wariness in Sami's eyes, but no more than that; the fury still smouldering in their depths pushed it to the very edges of her being. Nell knew she would have to tread carefully. Sami's hackles were well and truly raised, and any attempt to point out how poor her conduct had been would only make her angrier. Not that it mattered. Nell was the superior officer, and Sami had no choice but to listen, or risk destroying the career she'd devoted her life to. Even in her current state, Nell doubted Sami's judgement was impaired enough to go down that path.

"What's this about?" Sami asked, her voice tense and clipped.

"I think you're well aware what this is about," Nell replied. "What just happened was completely unacceptable."

"Tell it to Eagle!" Sami snapped. "He's the one who started it, he's the one who did this!"

"Commander Eagle is not my concern right now," Nell said. "You are."

Sami rolled her eyes as she muttered something under her breath. Nell could not be certain, but it sounded distinctly like the word 'unbelievable'.

"What was that, Sami?" Nell asked.

"Nothing, ma'am."

Sami was glaring back at her from the screen, her eyes smoking with defiance. It was an unsettling reaction. This was not like Sami at all. The Special Forces Captain was one of the most dependable and professional people Nell had ever worked with; she should not have been displaying her frustration so openly. In the back of her mind Nell wondered again just how badly she was hurt, but she knew this was not the time to discuss it. She could not be a friend to Sami, not right now. Duty had to come first.

Nell did not hold back as she matched Sami's furious glare with every bit of force she could muster.

"Sami, your conduct just now was unproductive, unprofessional, and unbecoming of an Orange Star Commander!" Nell drew a sharp breath and assumed a more composed bearing. "I expect better from you in the future. Do I make myself clear?"

"Ma'am, that's not fai–"

"Do I make myself clear?" Nell repeated, her voice rising almost to a shout again.

Sami's lips kept moving, struggling to form words, but no sound would come. The rage in her brown eyes began to crack and crumble, and shame crept into the spaces it left behind.

"Yes, ma'am," Sami managed to say. She sounded shaken and weak, but her voice held. "It won't happen again, ma'am. You have my word."

Some of the tension Nell had been holding suddenly went slack. If nothing else, she trusted Sami to keep her word.

"I certainly hope not," she said, more quietly this time, but no less firmly. "Take a few minutes to yourself, and then we'll resume."

Sami managed to nod, but did not speak as she turned away and rushed out of frame. For a moment Nell could only stand motionless, alone in the War Room. She felt exhausted, but she knew her work was not yet finished. Sami was only one half of this mess, and the most difficult task was yet to come. Nell took a deep breath, summoned her resolve, and walked out of the room to finish what she had begun.

It was one thing for Nell to reprimand Sami with the unspoken leverage of her rank at her disposal, but the nature of her relationship with Eagle was very different. He might have been placed under her command by the Green Earth government, but first and foremost they remained representatives of their two countries, working together as allies. They were equals more than anything, and she could hardly scold him like some green cadet. Saying nothing was not an option – not after what had just come to pass – but the reality of international politics demanded she take a more tactful approach with Eagle. It would be a delicate matter, and Nell was not entirely sure how best to manage it.

She found him just outside the War Room, leaning back with his head against the wall and his eyes closed as if trying to find some peace. If so, he seemed to have enjoyed no more success than the wider world. Serenity eluded Eagle; the strain of all that had passed in recent minutes and recent days was plain to see in the tight clench of his jaw and the pained pinch of his brow.

Nell took a short breath. There was no putting this off, whatever might come of it.

"Commander Eagle," she said. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but I need to know if you and Sami are capable of working together."

He stirred but did not look her in the eye. "Ask Sami," he muttered. "She's the one with the problem."

Any patience Nell had left for the hero of Green Earth dropped sharply. "Sami has given me her word that what just happened won't happen again. I presume you know what that means?"

"I –" Eagle at least had the grace to look ashamed upon hearing that. "Yes, I do. Sami would never break her word."

Something changed as Eagle spoke. There was a small shift in his expression, a subtle furrowing of his brow. A faraway light came into his grey eyes, almost as if he had been overcome by a slowly blooming realisation. Nell had no idea what it might mean, but Eagle seemed slightly more receptive, and she was willing to take what she could get.

"Then I'll ask you again: are you and Sami capable of working together?"

A pause. "If Sami can be civil, then so can I."

"Good."

Nell was completely unprepared for what happened next. Whatever reverie had taken hold of Eagle suddenly broke, and all the visceral emotion of the day showed itself with renewed vigour. There was a by now familiar anger, but also a deep sorrow he could no longer bury, woven together into a storm that swept away all his strength, leaving him hollow and spent. He looked at her, and there was almost something pleading, even desperate, in his eyes.

"I didn't mean…" Eagle scowled as he trailed off. "I never meant for – for this."

For a moment longer Nell held Eagle's gaze, unable to entirely hide her trepidation at what she saw there.

"We'll resume when you're ready," she said, and walked away.

Had it been wrong of her to ignore Eagle's obvious distress? Nell asked herself as she headed back inside the War Room. No. She could not be a counsellor to him any more than she could be a friend to Sami. It was neither Nell's place nor her responsibility to try and console him. Whatever inner turmoil Eagle was struggling with, she could not absolve him of it.

Back in the War Room the technicians had returned to their stations, and the channels were open once more. There were faint squeaking sounds echoing through the room, and at first Nell thought something might have broken. The noise was coming from the speakers by Andy's monitor, she realised; he was spinning from side to side with a bored look on his face, rotating on his swivel chair. Slightly amused at herself for thinking so much of something so mundane, Nell moved around the table and glanced over the notes she had brought to the meeting. There was nothing she truly needed to check, but it passed the time while she waited for the others to return. Sami was next to rejoin the meeting. Her eyes were redder than they had been a few minutes ago, but her expression was blank, bereft of either anger or hurt. Hopefully that was a sign she could continue without any further outbursts.

"Are we ready to begin again, Nell?" Drake asked.

"We will be once Eagle joins us."

Drake accepted that with a grunt. There was a broad frown on his face and a hard look in his eyes that made Nell think he was likewise unimpressed with Eagle and Sami's conduct. Considering how close Drake and Eagle were, it was possible he knew more about the breakdown of their relationship than she did. It occurred to Nell that it might be worth discussing the matter with him, when other matters were not quite so pressing.

She had only just processed that thought when the doors swung open and Eagle strode through, assuming a position by the head of the table. He too said nothing, but Nell could still see that strange, distant light in his eyes. Nell shivered and looked away. There was nothing she could do except keep everyone working on the problems that mattered most.

"I understand this is a stressful time," she began, "and clearly, emotions are running high. So, let's focus on the most important question. What do we do now?"

"We rescue Angel and Jess," Eagle answered without hesitation.

Nell felt another flicker of unease. What did Angel mean to him? And did that have any bearing on this suggestion?

"Obviously we'd like to rescue every prisoner Black Hole took," she said carefully, "but I think we have to be realistic about our options here."

"I know what you're saying, Nell," Drake said, "but Eagle's right. Jess and Angel know almost everything about Green Earth's defences. If Black Hole manages to extract that information, we'll be finished."

"Can they do that?" Andy asked.

"We'd be fools to think they won't manage it one way or another," Eagle said in an acidic tone. "Which means it's imperative we attempt a rescue as soon as possible."

"All right, then," Nell conceded. "How do we make it happen?"

That question was not so easy to answer. Eagle blinked several times before his sharp gaze flicked away, apparently at a loss. It was one thing merely to state what needed to be done, and quite another to make it a reality.

"First we need to find out where they've been taken," Sami murmured.

It was the first she had spoken since the meeting resumed. There was a hesitancy in her voice that was most unlike Sami, and she kept her gaze downcast, as if she did not wish to be seen.

"We actually have a good idea about that," Drake said. "Matt?"

"On it."

Matt leant down to type something, and one of the monitors was overlaid with a map of Cosmo Land. As Nell and the others watched, flashing dots began to appear on the map, tracing various paths to and from the coast of Green Earth. Some appeared to draw routes to Brown Nebula, but that the largest cluster of dots was around a large island in the continent's southwest. Nell frowned. It was the same island that Sturm's forces had operated from during the first war, a relatively large territory that was not administered by any of the former Allied Nations.

"Commander Drake, what are we looking at here?" Nell asked.

"Our communications came back online after Black Hole withdrew from our shores," he explained, "and we did everything we could to track their fleet. This is what we were able to piece together. As you can see, the majority of their ships sailed for this island, and dropped anchor at this point here."

"We sent our long range reconnaissance to take a look," Matt said, "and this is what we found."

He sent another set of images to the display, taken from high above. Rugged cliffs cut across a dark and foreboding sea, and the vague grey shapes of Black Hole ships lined the coast. Nell peered closer at the landmass, where several ships were moored right up against the rocks. She soon realised that there were structures and docks present. They were well camouflaged, but there was no mistaking the artificial shapes reaching out to meet those ships.

Drake let out a melancholy little laugh. "It's hard to believe, but it looks like the freebooters have an entire base there."

"Didn't we search that island after the first war?" Andy asked.

"We certainly did," Nell said. "There was no sign of anything like this."

Drake shrugged. "We know how quickly Black Hole can build facilities, and keep them hidden, too. It's possible we just missed it." He sighed. "In any case, Nell, I'd say this is how Black Hole's been able to operate freely along your southern coast."

Nell continued to study the images, still taking in the implications of this latest discovery. Drake was right. The base was in the perfect location to threaten both Orange Star and Green Earth, and through shipping routes to the south and east, it could connect to Brown Nebula, Omega Land, and a dozen other countries. She could not help but wonder how long it had been operating, but there was little chance of determining that now. One problem at a time, she reminded herself.

"Do we have any evidence that Jess and Angel were taken to this base?" Nell asked.

"We can't say for certain," Drake admitted. "However, all of Green Earth's commanders are equipped with a state of the art homing device. Once the communications blackout let up, I got a signal from Jess and Angel's trackers. They were between Green Earth and that island."

"That's circumstantial," Nell observed. "Black Hole could have discovered the trackers and removed them."

"What do you suggest, then?" Eagle said sharply, glaring at her from across the room.

"I'm suggesting we look before we leap," Nell said calmly, refusing to react to Eagle's accusing tone. "Attacking that base would be a huge undertaking. We need to confirm that your commanders are being held there, and we need a plan to get them safely out." She turned around. "Sami, would it even be possible for a strike team to infiltrate that base?"

"Based on what we know about Black Hole installations…" Sami considered the question. "It'd be tough. They'll have complex security measures in place, and a small army to defend it. We wouldn't stand a chance unless we could draw their forces away from the actual facility."

"We'd need to launch a full attack on this base, then," Nell surmised. "I don't imagine anything less would suffice."

Sami nodded, some of her old confidence returning to her. "Right. That would trip most of the alarms and force their troops to engage. If we could get a team close to the base, and locate a viable entry point, then it might be possible." She paused. "Yes, ma'am. I'm confident I could get a special forces team inside that base under battle conditions."

Sami had only just finished speaking when her expression fell. A flicker of horrified realisation passed over her face, perhaps as she realised where this was leading. The look lasted only a few seconds, but that was enough for Nell to take notice. Nor was she the only one who did, judging by the concern in Drake's big brown eyes.

"That won't do us much good unless you can get out again, Sami," he said. "Is a rescue attempt feasible, or foolish?"

"I can get inside," Sami said, "but we'd be going in blind. I could cause some havoc, maybe even do some real damage, but locating your COs would be like finding a needle in a haystack. We'd be cut off and surrounded long before we found them, and that's assuming they're even there."

Nell shook her head. It was hardly a promising assessment of the situation.

"What would it take for a mission like this to succeed?" She asked.

Sami thought about that briefly. "We'd need the plans to the base. We'd need to know where our targets are located. And we'd need a working knowledge of the enemy's security systems, not to mention ways to neutralise them."

Drake sighed. "It doesn't sound like there's much hope, then."

Nell went quiet. An idea had just occurred to her, an idea that she was not entirely sure was wise. She put a hand to her chin, struck by a conflicted look as she considered the possibility. It was a substantial risk, but one that was worth exploring, she decided.

"What if we had everything you needed?" Nell asked.

"We don't," Eagle muttered.

Nell ignored that. "Sami, what if we had access to the Black Hole mainframe, and all available information on that base? Layout, security, personnel, everything."

"This is ridiculous," Eagle exclaimed. "If we are indulging fantasies, we might as well pretend that Angel and Jess are safe and sound in Green Earth, and there is no need for a rescue at all!"

"Enough, Eagle!" Drake cut in. "I'm sure Nell wouldn't be saying this if she didn't have something up her sleeve."

Nell continued to ignore Eagle, looking directly at Sami. "Could it be done?"

"It'd be risky, ma'am," Sami said, "but I think so. We'd still have to launch a full assault on the base, otherwise we wouldn't stand a chance of getting inside. We'd be spotted as soon as we made our approach."

Drake thought about that. "Do we have the strength to launch an attack of that scale, Nell?"

"Green Earth would have to take the lead," Nell admitted. "Most of Orange Star's fleet is positioned to answer any aggressive moves by the Blue Moon navy. However, under the circumstances, we might be able to recall some ships to contribute."

"Might?" Eagle repeated, his voice cold as ice.

Nell met his gaze, calm and composed. "I'm not the final arbiter of Orange Star policy, Commander Eagle, something I'm sure you can appreciate."

"He does." Drake sighed again. "We both do. But it doesn't change the fact that Green Earth can't do this alone, not after what's just happened."

Nell pivoted about and began to study a fleet deployment chart displayed along one wall of the War Room. It was going to be close, she realised. Practically all of Orange Star's ships were already assigned to key duties. There was no way to assemble the force they needed without making significant compromises elsewhere. Their carrier battle group on the south coast could move off, and they could hope to deal with any potential advance by Blue Moon in the area later. Apart from that, one group protecting shipping routes off the coast of Brown Nebula could be recalled, and perhaps another currently assigned to protect Orange Star's territories in the great western ocean. Nell began to nod to herself. It would be close indeed, and there might be unforeseen consequences, but it could be done.

"If we sent Eagle's battalion south with two, perhaps three of our carrier battle groups, would it be enough?" She asked.

Drake took a deep breath as he mulled that over. "We'd have to commit most of the Green Earth navy, but if I head west while Eagle strikes from the north… I think we could manage it. What do you say, Eagle?"

The silver haired commander held his head high, the fire in his eyes vowing wrath and ruin. "Give me three of Orange Star's carrier battle groups and I will turn that base to ash. Black Hole will suffer for what they've done. I promise you that."

It was as much as Nell could have hoped for. In theory, the plan could work, although whether it was practical to put it into action remained to be seen. First of all, they needed to confirm the location of Jess and Angel. Aside from that, there were half a dozen other points of failure that could bring the whole idea screeching to a halt, not to mention two governments who would need to approve it. Most distressing of all was the method Nell had thought of to get inside Black Hole's systems. That part of the plan was truly mad in more ways than one, but Nell could think of no better options.

"I'll put together a preliminary brief and present it to the President," she advised the gathering. "Hopefully we'll receive clearance to proceed further with the operation. Commander Eagle, Commander Drake, the two of you should do the same with your government, and begin putting together an attack plan. Andy, I want you to meet me in the capital immediately."

"Huh? Me?" Andy appeared puzzled. "Are you sure, Nell?"

"I'm sure," Nell confirmed. "Unless we have accurate intel on that Black Hole base and the means to deal with its security systems, we can't move forward with a rescue mission. As it happens, I think you can help me with that particular problem."

Andy shrugged. "If you say so. I don't know what you're talking about or how I can help, but I'm on my way!"

Nell could not help but smile a little. Andy's particular sort of clueless optimism could be oddly comforting sometimes, even when things seemed darkest.

"You'll see," she murmured. "In the meantime, Sami, I want you to assemble your team and begin preparing for an extraction mission. If all goes well, there won't be any time to lose."

"I'm on it, ma'am." Sami hesitated before continuing. "Do you really think we can make this work?"

"It's a long shot," Nell said, "but I think it's the best we have." For a few seconds she glanced away. "Well, we'll find out soon enough. If no one has any further questions, I think we can end the meeting here."

No questions came. There was only silence as everyone present digested that, and so Nell gave the order to begin disconnecting the signals.

A fragile kind of hope had taken hold as they discussed the plan, but Nell could not let herself give into it. Not yet. Far too much remained uncertain, and privately, she had her doubts that what she had in mind could ever work. With a toss of her long blonde hair Nell brushed that thought aside. Stranger things had come to pass, after all. There was a chance, and not a small one, either; and for now, that was enough.

Chapter Text

Ten hours. That was all the time that had passed since the emergency conference ended, and Andy had spent most of it in the air. After some hasty preparations, he had handed command of his section of the Blue Moon front over to Max and Rachel, and boarded a transport that would take him directly to the capital. The situation remained unchanged, although a great deal had happened; events had moved quickly since the meeting was adjourned, and no one had been busier than Nell. The exact details of her movements were lost on Andy. All he knew was that Nell had been in a veritable whirlwind of activity as she put her plan into action, and did everything in her power to ensure it would succeed. She had coordinated the draft attack plans, made logistical arrangements, and even met with the President, where she had obtained executive permission to proceed further with the operation. They were early steps and nothing more, but it was encouraging that all had gone smoothly thus far.

What came next would not be quite so easy. After Andy's plane had touched down, he had joined Nell and Eagle for another flight, a short one this time. Andy hadn't even known where they were going, or why. It was only after they were airborne that Nell had found time to brief him on the details of her plan. Together the three of them had flown out to an isolated hangar south of the capital, and it was there that they had been waiting for almost an hour. The mood was quiet. They all knew what was at stake, and there was little left to say. Without detailed intel on the Black Hole base to the south, and the means to deal with its security systems, there was no way the mission could proceed. Without a safe way in, any attempt to rescue the captured Green Earth commanders would have no chance of success, and an already difficult situation would become desperate indeed.

Andy could hardly be ignorant of those circumstances, yet he found that he was not especially anxious. He had never known a plan of Nell's to fail, and he trusted that this one would be no different. Nor had he ever known any problem to be completely insurmountable. He did not know Jess well, and Angel he had never met at all, but it did not matter. Andy was determined to help them in any way he could.

"She should have been here by now," Eagle muttered.

The Green Earth commander was pacing from one side of the hangar to the other, his relentless gaze roving over the steel walls and concrete floor. He could not keep from wringing his hands together as he walked. Eagle's emotional state had not improved since devising a plan to respond to the brutal assault on his country. Under the bright artificial lighting his silver hair looked like it had turned white, and the harsh glare only deepened the shadows beneath his eyes.

Nell meanwhile was impassive as she watched from her position near the middle of the hangar. If she shared Eagle's concern, she gave no sign of it.

"We can wait a bit longer," she said. "There's no call for alarm yet."

Eagle's glare flicked over to Nell, but lingered only for a moment before moving to Andy, standing at her side. Andy offered his friend a benign shrug and a sort of confused smile, hoping to let him know that at least he wasn't alone. Eagle did not seem to appreciate the gesture, however. With a scowl he looked away and returned to his pacing.

"This is a waste of time," Eagle spat. "That creature has already shown her true colours. Even if she agrees to this, and I doubt she will, there's nothing to keep her from betraying us."

"She won't let us down." Andy blurted out. "Not if we give her a chance."

The words came out before he could stop himself. No matter how newly made or how strained a friendship, Andy's instinct was always to stand up for the people he cared about.

"No." Eagle gave a firm shake of his head. "Unleashing that monster is far too great a risk. We should be looking for another way to rescue Jess and Angel, not… not wasting our time on this."

Andy glanced towards Nell with uncertainty showing in his eyes. Eagle had been oscillating between anger and doubt ever since Andy had met up with them, and he did not entirely know how to respond.

Nell offered him a reassuring smile. "Patience, Andy. Patience."

Andy accepted that with only an absent nod, and returned to fidgeting with his pockets. Patience had never come easily to him, and he found waiting without distraction tedious. Andy had always preferred to keep his hands busy. Ever since he was a child, he had hated being idle, preferring to work on puzzles he could solve and problems he could fix.

He was fortunate that they did not have to wait much longer. Soon the hangar door began to rumble open, offering a glimpse into a world of inky skies and shadowy silhouettes beyond. Andy's eyes went wide as an armoured truck drove in through the door and came about in a wide circle, two military cars with turret mounted guns following behind it. Eagle strode over to join them as the truck completed its circle and began to reverse. As it approached, the soldiers standing guard around the perimeter began to shift and grow alert. This was what they had been waiting for. To be more accurate, it was who they had been waiting for.

The truck came to a stop with its rear end facing the three commanders. To either side of the reinforced back doors a panel of brake lights glared a red warning. For a few seconds all was still, and Andy heard Nell take in a short breath. Then, two Special Forces soldiers in black combat gear exited the truck's cab and rushed around to join them. One raised a pistol as the other opened the lock. Several clicks echoed through the cavernous space before the doors swung open, and before their eyes was Lash.

Andy blinked in shock. This was not the Lash he remembered. Gone was her typical provocative attire and sturdy black lab coat, replaced by a neon blue prison jumpsuit. She had been carefully secured in a wheelchair that was bolted to the truck floor, and her wrists and ankles were shackled and chained together. Behind her stood two more soldiers, their eyes kept on their charge. Once the truck's rear doors were open, they knelt and undid the bolts keeping the chair in place, while their comrades outside extended and lowered a ramp from the back of the truck.

Andy swallowed as Lash was wheeled out to face them, those wild eyes of hers in a frenzy as she absorbed all there was to see. She looked completely insane. Lash had always been a bit unstable, of course, but this was different. She was more frantic, more desperate, and as he watched her dark eyes dart around the hangar, Andy felt his own doubts begin to grow. Had he been wrong to believe in her? In the few hours since Nell informed him of her plan, Andy hadn't given the matter all that much thought, let alone any serious scrutiny. It had simply never occurred to him that Lash might be unwilling to help.

At least, not until now. Nell had said that he knew Lash better than anyone else in Orange Star, and Andy hadn't questioned that assumption either, but now that the time had arrived, he wasn't sure what good it would do. What were you even supposed to say to someone who had spent the last five months in a maximum security prison? The question made Andy's head spin. Trying to not to say something dumb was hard enough when talking to a normal person, and Lash was far more intelligent and devious than most. She had a knack for turning your own words against you, and that had been when she was actually trying to start a new life, however halfhearted the attempt might have been. How much more difficult was she going to be now?

Andy was suddenly very glad that Nell was there to do most of the talking.

"Hello, Lash," Nell said in a gentle voice.

At first Lash did not respond. Andy wondered if perhaps she hadn't heard, or hadn't understood. Was it possible that the long months of confinement had had driven her completely mad? The tension in the hangar grew and grew until Lash's eyes snapped upward and a wild laugh burst from her lips.

"Look at you," she giggled, her gaze alighting on each of them in turn. "A pretty little birdie. A monkey with a wrench. And four-star Barbie. Aww, did you three come all the way out here just for me?"

"Yes." For a split second Nell hesitated. "We'd like to talk to you, if that's alright."

"Alright?" Lash adopted a look of mock thought. "Well, I'll have to check my schedule. I'm a busy girl, y'know."

"Would you rather be back in whatever pit in the ground Orange Star is keeping you in?" Eagle asked sharply. "Make no mistake: that can be arranged."

Lash's eyes narrowed as she matched Eagle's fierce glare. "What, am I supposed to be grateful you stupid allied twerps let me out?" She shook her chains at them. "After you locked me up in the first place? Sure, it was sooo much fun, but I'm bored now, and next time I'd like a room with a view!"

Her ridicule complete, Lash dissolved into a fit of snorting and cackling, her manic laughter mingling with the metallic jingle of her rattling chains. Andy didn't quite understand why Eagle was so furious with Lash; for his part, Andy only felt sorry for her. She had made mistakes, but that did not mean she didn't deserve another chance.

"This was a mistake," Eagle muttered. "Releasing this – this creature –" he jabbed an accusing finger at Lash – "is a mistake!"

Lash rolled her eyes. "What, are you still angry about all that stuff I did in Green Earth? It was ages ago. Get over it already!"

Eagle's nostrils flared with anger, his eyes deadly slits. There was silence as Andy, Nell and the nearby soldiers all watched the hero of Green Earth. No one knew what he might say or do next. Eagle had been unpredictable of late, and Andy could not help but remember the way he and Sami had spoken to one another. If Eagle was willing to say such things to Sami, surely there were no limits on what he might do to Lash. It was not a thought Andy found comforting.

In the end Eagle said nothing at all. He simply pivoted about with a violent shudder and strode away without giving Lash so much as another glance. As she watched him retreat, Lash began clapping her hands together with glee, heedless of the challenge imposed by her shackles.

"I made him mad, I made him mad!"

"No," Nell said. "You didn't. Eagle was already upset before you arrived. All your antics did was tip him over the edge. He has a lot on his mind."

Lash snorted. "Like I care!" Without warning her expression turned serious. "Why don't you freaks just tell me what you want?"

"What makes you think we want anything at all?" Nell asked, still cool and collected.

Lash gave a more restrained laugh and grinned. "Hello! I'm a genius, remember? I wouldn't be here unless you wanted –" she paused and shook her head – "no, unless you needed something from me, something no one else can give you. You wouldn't have let me out of your fancy prison otherwise. I'm right, aren't I? Of course I am."

There was silence as Andy and Nell digested that. Lash was entirely too accurate for either of their liking. They were both well aware that Black Hole's brilliant inventor could be ruthlessly perceptive when she decided to apply her intellect, but there was a great difference between knowing something and being confronted with the reality of it. Standing before this maniacal, cackling girl who could practically read their minds and knowing that she might be the last hope to save two of their most important allies was disconcerting to say the least.

"Yes," Nell admitted. "You're quite right. We do need your help."

"You want me to build this one a new brain, right?" Lash kept laughing as she tilted her head towards Andy. "I can do it, but it'll cost you."

Nell closed her eyes for several seconds. She was the most patient person Andy knew, but she had her limits. Not many people could even crack her composure, but apart from Olaf, Lash was at the top of the list. A perplexed look came over Andy as he considered that. It seemed strange to him that two people who were so far apart could have even that much in common.

Making a visible effort to keep herself calm, Nell continued.

"Orange Star and Green Earth are putting together a joint operation. Without going into the details, there's a particular technical problem we need your expertise to overcome. Obviously, we don't expect something for nothing, so we're prepared to be lenient. If you cooperate, we're willing to release you on a probationary basis."

"Nope! No deal! I'm not helping you jerks with anything!" Lash forced her head to the side, refusing to look at Nell any longer.

"Lash, be reasonable. This could be your last chance for a better future."

"Let me think. No!"

The last word was a shrill screech, and any trace of Lash's fevered mirth had vanished. Her lips were twisted tightly together in a petulant scowl, and her eyes were hard as rock. Andy couldn't understand why she was she being so difficult. The choice seemed incredibly easy to him. If she said yes, Lash wouldn't just be helping others and doing what was right, she'd be getting a second chance to make a free life for herself. The only alternative was rotting away in a military prison. Surely that was no choice at all.

Nell didn't seem to understand Lash's behaviour either, for her only response was to put a hand to her brow and let out a small sigh.

"So you'd rather dig your own grave," she said, "and perhaps ours as well. Lovely."

Lash's reply was to stick her tongue out and blow a raspberry with all the force she could muster. Nell flinched as flecks of spit struck her cheek. To Andy's surprise, Nell didn't appear the slightest bit angry as she wiped her face with one hand. If anything, her deep blue eyes were full of regret as they beheld the wild creature before her. It made little difference. Lash's dark eyes only smouldered with fury as they locked in combat with Nell's sympathetic gaze.

Neither of them spoke. Nothing happened, nothing changed. The two of them merely continued to stare at each other. Andy began to wonder if he should say something, but he had no idea what would be helpful, or if anything could even be helpful at a time like this. In the meantime the strange staring contest continued, until there came a noise from somewhere behind them. Lash's attention shifted over Nell's shoulder, drawn by the sound of footsteps echoing through the hangar. The battle of wills was over, and without a clear victor.

Nell turned away as the aide who had come from the plane began to speak.

"Commander Nell, ma'am, a transmission's just come through for you. It's coded urgent."

"I see. I'll take it in the plane." Nell glanced back at Lash. "I don't think there's anything more to be said here."

With that she walked away, her high heels clacking on the concrete as she made her way back to the jet and disappeared inside.

"Toodles then," Lash muttered to herself, staring daggers at Nell's retreating back.

Andy watched the imprisoned girl closely. They were alone now, save for the guards standing a respectful distance away, and still Lash had barely even looked at him. It was another way in which her behaviour puzzled Andy. Before her confinement in Thornfield, he and Lash had spent several months working together, collaborating on a number of mechanical projects. During that time they had managed to find some common ground, despite Lash's petty tantrums and constant insults. Andy was not quite so naive as to believe that Lash considered him a friend, but he had thought that maybe, just maybe, he had begun to earn her respect. If nothing else, he was certain that with time they could become good friends.

"I don't get it," Andy said at last.

Lash's glare flicked sideways. "Don't get what? How to breathe?"

He ignored that. "If you're so smart, why are you being so stupid?"

"Excuse me?" Her eyes bulged. "You're calling me the stupid one? Me? I'm smarter than anyone, and I don't need you or anyone else telling me what to do!"

"But what you're doing makes no sense!" Andy exclaimed. "Do you want to spend the rest of your life locked up?"

Lash snorted. "Like anyone even cares what I want!"

"I care," Andy said. There was a childlike honesty in his voice as he said it.

She grunted in frustration, rolling her eyes for good measure. "No you don't. No one cares about me. And if you really think I'm getting out of your super prison, then you're even dumber than you look."

"Hey…"

Andy trailed off, confused. He did not like being called dumb, although he had come to expect it from Lash. He was, however, forced to admit that he had no idea what Lash was getting at.

"Well, if you don't help us, of course you won't get out. That's just obvious."

She threw her head back and let out a shriek of anguish. "Don't you get it!" She screamed. "It doesn't matter if I help you stupid dweebs or not! You'll take what you want and then throw me away, just like everyone else!"

Lash managed to contain a strangled sob. For a second she looked away, and Andy thought perhaps she was finished, but in the next her stare snapped back to him, terrified and seething.

"Whatever!" She cried out, her voice so strained Andy could barely understand what she was saying. "I don't care. I don't need anyone, so you can all just shut up and go away!"

Andy could only at Lash in complete shock. She was shaking, visibly shaking, and her breath was coming in short, frightened little gasps. That she was angry at being thrown in jail he could understand, but this seemed like more than mere anger. None of it made any sense to Andy at at all. Not the fact that Lash was refusing to help, not the frightened and desperate way she was acting, and certainly not the accusation that Nell would go back on her word. If there was one person in this world Andy trusted – other than his family – it was Nell.

"Nell wouldn't do that to you," he said firmly. "She promised."

Lash gave a strange, hoarse little cry, and hung her head. Andy frowned as he watched her, wondering if this was just the prelude to another outburst. He tensed when Lash lifted her head again, but she did not shout or scream. All the energy seemed to have washed away from her pale face as she met his eyes with an exhausted stare.

"I'm not stupid," Lash said, her voice lifeless and flat. "I know how this goes. Everyone leaves. Everyone goes away. You and your blonde grandma, Hawke, m–"

She shuddered and turned away, cutting herself off before she could go any further. Lash had screwed her eyes shut and looked away before Andy could be sure, but for a moment, she had almost seemed to be on the verge of tears. That was baffling in itself. Andy had never seen Lash cry, and he couldn't even imagine what would push her to that point. As far as she was concerned, everything was a just a game. She didn't care about anything or anyone.

Or did she?

Andy's whole expression changed as it occurred to him that he might have been wrong. If Lash really did care, somewhere deep inside, then maybe it wasn't too late. Perhaps she could still be convinced to help, and more importantly, perhaps it was still possible to help her.

Andy was still mulling that insight when something else occurred to him.

"So, um," he shuffled his feet, "do you know a woman named Flare?"

"Huh?" Lash glanced up at him, but she only looked tired and lost.

"Flare. She's a Black Hole CO. She seems interested in me."

Lash made a disgusted face. "What, like she wants to be your girlfriend? Sheesh, she must be even more brain dead than you are."

"No, not like that." Andy scratched at the back of his head. "She said I beat her predecessor. It's like she thinks I'm her rival or something." Andy looked around the hangar until he located Eagle, locked in animated discussion with his Green Earth escort. "I don't know why people always think that about me."

Lash said nothing, but her brow furrowed slightly. Andy had spent enough time working with her to know that meant she was thinking intensely about something.

"I just thought that since you used to be with Black Hole, you might have met her," he said with a shrug.

She shook her head a little, her messy black hair shivering with the movement. "I've never heard of anyone called Flare."

Andy felt the small hope he'd felt upon asking the question fade away. If Lash didn't know anything about Flare despite her history as a Black Hole commander, then how was anyone supposed to figure out who this new enemy was and what she wanted? They were questions that Andy had found himself often preoccupied by over the past few weeks. Even after the outbreak of war with Blue Moon and the attack on Green Earth, it was the battle with Flare that was most on his mind.

He'd faced all kinds of evil during the two great wars, and never been particularly troubled by it, but something about Flare was different. Not because of the threats she had made against Andy and his friends, but because of how focused she was on him in particular. With Flare the battle was somehow personal. Intimate, almost, and Andy found it highly perplexing. Others had regarded him as a worthy opponent in the past, but there was more to Flare's interest in him than that. Not only had she been impressed by his aptitude for command, but she had also seemed strangely fascinated by who he was and what he believed in. Andy had no idea what to make of it, not least because so far as he was aware, he had never even met Flare before that night in the Alara mountains.

The sound of Nell's high heels clacking on the ground interrupted Andy's thoughts. She was walking back from the plane, and she looked completely stunned. Something was wrong.

"Nell?" Andy asked. "Is everything okay?"

At first Nell could only stare straight ahead, mute. Andy could not hide a look of concern. He had seen Nell upset or distressed before, but not often, and not like this. She seemed to be at a complete loss for words, and Andy didn't know what that could mean. Nell always knew what to do.

"We have to go, Andy," she managed to say. "Everything… everything's changed now."

Andy blinked. "Why? What's happened?"

"I've just had a communique from Rachel," Nell said quietly. "Max, he… I don't know what he was thinking." She paused, her blank gaze boring straight through Andy. "I doubt he was thinking."

"What? What do you mean?" Andy still had no idea what was going on.

All at once Nell seemed to remember where they were, the focus returning to her eyes. "We have to go, now."

Andy glanced back at Lash, who was watching their conversation with a strange mixture of suspicion and curiosity in her eyes. "But what about Lash?"

"We don't have time to try and change her mind. Besides, she's made her wishes perfectly clear." Nell looked from Andy to one of the guards, still standing at the ready. "You can return the prisoner to Thornfield. We're finished here."

With that Nell turned back towards the plane, gesturing for Andy to follow. Andy hesitated. As the guards closed in on Lash, her expression grew more and more uncertain. It was too late for words, Andy knew, but that did not stop him from throwing one last pleading look at Lash.

"Wait!" Lash shouted.

Everything stopped. All eyes in the hangar moved to the bound girl. A timid look came over Lash as she realised what she had done, and she began to chew her lip.

"I guess I can help you… a little bit."

Andy's expression became a wide grin. "Release the prisoner! She's coming with us."

The lead guard raised an eyebrow and looked to Nell for instruction. "Ma'am?"

"You heard Commander Andy," Nell said, though she could not keep a bewildered tone from her voice. "Release her."

The soldiers shared a sceptical glance as they moved to unshackle Lash. They were not the only ones taken aback by this unexpected turn of events. With every lock undone and every chain cast away, Lash herself appeared more astounded at what was happening. Her sudden change of heart seemed to have shocked her just as much as it had everyone else. As the last restraint was removed, Lash gave a tremulous little smile and leapt up from the wheelchair. Andy grinned as she let out a giddy laugh and jumped in place, stretching her arms out wide as it sank in that she was free. After the third jump Lash stopped and looked straight at them.

"Last one to the plane's a broken Neotank!" She yelled, and raced away.

Nell drew an apprehensive breath as they followed Lash to the plane. "I hope you know what you're doing, Andy."

"I do." Andy offered up a sheepish smile. "I think."

"How reassuring," Nell murmured.

He gave a confused look. "Isn't this what we wanted, Nell? Lash is going to help us, so the rescue can go ahead, right?"

"Yes, it's just…"

Nell trailed off, seemingly thinking better of whatever she had been about to say. Instead, she simply sighed and let it go.

"You're right. This is about as much as we could have hoped for. If Lash comes through for us, then perhaps… well. We'll see."

"Don't worry, Nell." Andy smiled at her. "Everything will work out."

Andy moved ahead, climbing the stairs into the plane after Lash. He did not see the deep trepidation that filled Nell's eyes, or the effort it took her to remain calm and composed. They were only subtle signs of the pressures mounting in the world beyond, and Andy was far too pleased with himself to notice them. His faith in a friend had been rewarded. As far as he was concerned, it was proof that whatever came next, whatever trials lay ahead, he and his friends would prevail. Together, there was nothing they could not do, whether it was rescuing Jess and Angel, defeating Flare, or thwarting whatever evil plot Black Hole was brewing. All they had to do was stay strong, and remain true to one another.

Chapter Text

The first thing Max noticed when he stepped outside the car was the cold. It was only an hour after dawn, and the light of the sun was weak and pale as it overlooked the northern coast of Orange Star, where the border with Blue Moon met the ocean. There was little warmth or welcome in this place, only the smell of salt on the sea air and the chill, bitter and pervasive. Winter was here, although they were yet to see any snowfall, and the morning was frigid. It was strange, but Max found the cold did not bother him at all. Nothing was going to stand in his way, or even slow him down. As the sun rose, Max knew with absolute conviction that he was exactly where he was supposed to be, and more than that, exactly where he wanted to be.

Max zipped up the heavy blue parka he wore and jogged to where his advance teams had started setting up a field HQ. His army had driven all through the night, stopping only for brief refuelling and maintenance breaks. They had a small window of opportunity, and Max was determined not to let it go to waste. He had slept no more than a few hours, but it was of no consequence. He felt alert, he felt good. The anticipation of what was to come gave Max strength of a kind he had never known before; he was filled with righteous fury, and burning with the need to win this fight. That was the only thing that mattered now. One more battle, and then he would finally have answers to all the questions eating away at him. He was so close. Just over the next hill, across a windswept coastal plain, the man Max had once called his best friend was waiting.

Grit.

Max had been on the main front with Rachel when the news reached them. In the days after Blue Moon's offensive had faltered, the fighting in the central border regions had ebbed to an uneasy stalemate. There had been no major actions by either side for over a week now, only bitter skirmishes, and small efforts to probe each other's defences. The gains by either side were measured in scant metres. It was then, with the war at a standstill, that new intel had come through. Enemy troop movements indicated that Blue Moon was sending a force to reinforce their northern border, and intercepted communications confirmed that it was under Grit's command. Max had known what needed to be done as soon as the reports arrived, and he had wasted no time in acting.

Rachel had not agreed with his decision. At first she had reacted with disbelief, unable to comprehend what he was thinking. She had alternated between anger and heartfelt begging as he prepared to leave. One minute she railed at him and called his plan headstrong, stupid, and rash, only to implore him not to let his emotions get the better of him in the next. Frustration stirred in Max at the memory. Rachel was a good commander, but she didn't – couldn't – understand this. She didn't know Grit like he did. She didn't know how slippery the man could be, or how dangerous. If they left Grit to his own devices, it would only be worse in the long run. Sooner or later he would blindside them with a deadly ambush, or some other kind of sucker punch. Max wasn't going to let that happen. Not this time. The need to stop Grit overrode every other concern, and so Max had assembled an army and taken it north with all haste, even as Rachel pleaded with him to stay.

Speed was all that mattered now. Max was sure of that. He needed to strike hard and fast, to smash through Grit's defences before his former friend even knew what was happening. Whatever was at work here, whatever Grit was planning, it was Max's duty to end it before it could go any further. There would be no more tricks. No more lies, and no more surprises. Max could feel the anger he had been holding back for so long rising to a boil, and he welcomed it. Today, justice would be done.

"Commander Max!" A soldier called out. "Incoming transmission from Commander Rachel!"

"Ignore it," he said.

Uncertainty showed on the soldier's face. "Yes, sir."

Max glanced away. He already knew there was no point in answering the signal. Rachel had been calling him constantly ever since he'd left, either begging or demanding that he turn around. Max had answered the first few times, but he had soon stopped, and ordered his troops to maintain radio silence. Talking to Rachel was impossible, and there was no point in rehashing the same argument over and over again. Max could not handle that kind of distraction. He needed to focus on the mission at hand, and on Grit. There would be plenty of time to explain properly later, once Grit was defeated, Blue Moon's plans were thwarted, and he was safely back on the main front. Max sighed. Perhaps then Rachel would understand.

"Have the satellite images of this area come through yet?" He asked.

"Yes sir," another soldier replied. "Over here."

Max walked over to the monitor in question and looked through the few photos available of the coastal plain. There was no sign of any fortifications or other defences, and only a few scattered enemy vehicles and camp buildings visible.

"How long ago were these taken?" Max queried.

"Eighteen hours ago, sir."

Max grunted to himself. Not long ago, but long enough for the enemy to have prepared a more robust defence in the hours since. He needed fresher intel. With that problem in mind, he lifted his com device and signalled to his scout teams.

"Recon units, this is Max. I need eyes on the plain. What are we looking at here?"

"This is recon one. Everything looks clear from here, sir."

"Recon two confirming that. Enemy forces do not appear to have responded to our approach."

Max allowed himself some time to consider that. Was it possible he'd moved swiftly enough to catch Grit completely off guard? If the enemy hadn't even realised they were under attack yet, then they were in for a rude awakening. Max felt a surge of dark satisfaction at the thought. It was downright thrilling to imagine that this time, Grit was the one who had been outmanoeuvred and taken by surprise.

"What's the terrain like?" Max asked. "Has the enemy got any kind of defences ready? Trenches, tank traps, anything."

"No sign of it, sir," the first recon unit reported.

"Confirmed," the second unit said. "We've got a clear view towards the enemy positions. Minimal defences only."

Max began to chuckle to himself. "Well how 'bout that."

He clapped his hands together, unable to keep a broad grin from spreading across his face. It was obvious what had happened. Grit had been too lazy to even bother preparing a proper defence, and now he was going to pay for it. Max surveyed the surroundings, checking again that there was nothing Grit could turn to his advantage. The ocean waters to the north were empty, and the plains were bare and barren. A patch of dark woodland stood a little further inland, but it would be of no help to Grit. Max looked towards the east, where Blue Moon's troops awaited. The sun was becoming visible at the crest of the hill, a halo of brightening gold that shone like a lighthouse beacon, showing him the way forward. Everything was coming together more perfectly than he could possibly have imagined.

"Commander, we've got movement on the other side of the plain. They know we're here!"

Max snorted. "Took 'em long enough. Are our units in position?"

"Yes, sir. They're just waiting for your signal."

"Then let's move out." Max took a short breath and began issuing orders. "Alpha group, you're up. Attack immediately. The enemy's spotted us, but it doesn't look like they're ready for a fight. We go in just like we planned it. Understood?"

"Copy that, Commander. Alpha group, moving in."

Max rushed to the tactical display and began tracking the progress of the assault. Conditions were good, and he had excellent visibility. So far, everything was going according to plan. On the other side of the border, Blue Moon troops were mobilising, racing to form some kind of defence. Tanks rumbled forward to anchor their formation, bastions of steel in the line of blue clad soldiers. Further back were the enemy artillery groups, revealed by Max's spotters. True to form, they made up the bulk of Grit's army, and Max knew they were the primary threat he needed to neutralise. If he could break through Grit's defences and take out the heart of that artillery company, the battle would come to a swift end.

The first shots were fired. The distant boom of cannons and explosions permeated the morning as the Orange Star tanks came within range. The initial exchanges were heavily in their favour. A cascade of shots from Max's tanks landed throughout the enemy line, throwing them further into disarray. Ill prepared and rushing into battle, the enemy tanks could do little to match the fury of Max's assault. Several were simply destroyed in the first volley, and those that managed to return fire struggled to match the speed and power of Max's tactics.

Without a strong defensive position to help them hold out, Grit's troops were taking heavy casualties. They were outnumbered, and they were outgunned. It was not how Max had expected the battle to go. He had anticipated a much more formidable defence, and prepared accordingly. He had brought with him enough tanks and support vehicles to breach a heavily fortified position, even when accounting for the higher losses typically suffered by the attacker in such situations. He had even brought artillery of his own in case he needed them to help break through any particularly stubborn defences. Instead, the battle was being fought out in the open. They were fighting on equal terms with distinctly unequal forces, and Blue Moon was losing ground fast.

Soon the timbre of the battle began to change. Flashes broke across the horizon as Grit's artillery opened fire, their rounds landing amongst the Orange Star vehicles. Max's expression hardened. The enemy indirects were slowing his assault, their destructive force going some way towards equalising the battle. Max nodded to himself. He'd expected this, and planned accordingly. If Grit thought a few potshots were going to stop him, then he had another thing coming.

Max activated his com. "Alpha group, focus your fire on the north of the enemy line."

He watched as his forces regrouped and carried out the order. On the display his units began to shift, mustering to hit the weakest part of Blue Moon's formation. Grit's artillery were still taking a toll, but his line was crumbling. Max sent forward a platoon of medium tanks he'd been keeping in reserve, and the last of the enemy vehicles along the north side were obliterated by their cannons. With no way to fend off an assault of this scale, the soldiers in blue began to scatter and retreat, leaving gaps in their defence. A breach was opening.

Grit saw it as well. The enemy formation continued to fall back, contracting as the Blue Moon troops tried in vain to present a solid front. Everything the enemy had left moved to shore up the north end of the line, just as they were supposed to. Max frowned. It was exactly the response he'd wanted, and yet it almost seemed too easy. Blue Moon's troops were completely exposed from other directions, and it wasn't like Grit to be so careless, despite how he typically acted.

Another burst of anger surged through Max, and he shoved that thought aside. It was time to end this.

"Bravo group, go," he ordered, his voice hard and cold.

Amongst the murk and shadows of the woods further inland, faint signs of movement and colour became visible. All at once orange vehicles burst from the treeline and picked up speed, charging towards the enemy position. This force was smaller than the first, but it hardly mattered now. With all of the enemy's attention directed towards the north side of the battle, there was nothing left to stop them. Grit's artillery could not adjust and acquire these new targets in time. Soon a dozen tanks were charging straight towards those same artillery formations, even as others from the group swung around to contain the Blue Moon troops still fighting. Max was completely engrossed by the reports coming through. Two mobile artillery vehicles were destroyed, then three, then six. How would Grit answer this turn of events? Max wondered. Whatever he decided to do, he would need to do it fast. In a few minutes more Grit would have nothing left to work with.

"Sir… we've just received a signal from the enemy," a captain said.

Max glanced up from the reports. "What kind of signal?"

"They surrender, sir."

"They what?"

Max frowned, struggling to process the information. His immediate reaction was that it didn't make any sense, but there could be no mistake. Even from his current position, Max could hear that the distant boom of artillery fire had ceased, and he didn't like it. Nothing about this battle felt right. Grit wasn't one to throw in the towel so quickly; usually he was so damn slippery you couldn't catch him if you tried. They'd fought many times in the past, and on every occasion Grit had managed to force a long, difficult fight. Certainly they'd never even come close to capturing him. This… this was too easy.

Max let out an irritated sigh. It might not have made much sense, but he could hardly deny what was happening right before his eyes.

"Alright then," he muttered to himself as he lifted his com. "All units, this is Max. Cease fire. The enemy's surrendered. Disarm them and take them into custody. I repeat, cease fire."

The captain looked at him. "It's over, sir."

"No," Max said. "It's not. Get an APC ready. I want to take Grit's surrender in person."

The battle was finished, but Max felt no satisfaction, and no comfort. He had the victory he'd wanted for weeks now, and somehow it had made no difference at all. Nothing felt over, nothing felt resolved. As he clambered into an APC and began the journey across the chill plains to the Blue Moon camp, the anger simmering inside of him only seemed to grow. This wasn't over yet. He still needed to confront Grit, and finally get some answers. More than anything he had to find out how the man he'd once called his best friend could be complicit in this betrayal. Max had been able to accept once before that Grit had his reasons for turning his back on his friends, but he'd never fully understood it. Some things were not as complicated as Grit liked to pretend. As the transport drove on, Max found himself consumed with disbelief and wrath, just as he had been when he first learnt of Grit's treachery. Today it felt like all of those old wounds had been opened again, and this time, it was worse.

The APC shuddered to a stop. He'd arrived. Max took a deep breath before moving, trying to decide how he would handle this. The conversation to come would almost be a battle in its own right; sometimes, it felt like Grit had an allergy to giving straight answers. He snorted in contempt at the thought. Grit no longer had a choice.

Max smiled and slapped his legs as he got to his feet, relishing the sensation. It was so much like the sting of the cold northern air on his cheeks as he leapt out of the transport. A faint prickle, not enough to be painful, but just sharp enough to make his heartbeat rise, to make him feel alert and alive. Outside, the acrid tang of smoke in the air filled his nostrils. He hadn't realised just how close the battle had come to the enemy camp. For a moment Max felt a flicker of doubt, unable to shake the feeling that something about this whole fight was deeply wrong. Grit shouldn't have given up so easily.

Then he saw a familiar figure in a dusty ochre coat standing nearby and the feeling was gone, drowned beneath a wave of crushing anger.

"Grit," he spat.

Grit's eyes were narrowed as he glanced over to Max, his thin face heavy with exhaustion. "You shouldn't be here."

He sounded so tired as he said it, like a man who was crumbling beneath the weight of his burdens. Once, not so long ago, Max might have felt pity for this weary man before him, but no more. He had nothing left for Grit but rage.

Max's lip curled in contempt. "What, still can't believe you lost so easily?"

Grit closed his eyes, and a pained look came over him. "Listen now –"

"I don't want to hear it!" Max shouted. "It's over. You lost. You betrayed Orange Star and this time… this time you're gonna answer for it."

"So this is all about little ol' me," Grit said, shaking his head. "Maxie, you need to –"

"Don't you dare call me that!" Max exploded. "You can't turn your back on everything that matters and then act like nothing's changed! We're the ones who have to deal with this mess, we're the ones trying to pick up the damn pieces you left behind!"

Max's hands were shaking with the sheer force of his emotions now, and he could not stop them any more than he could stop the words from pouring out. Grit could only watch the outburst, thin, pale, and shocked. Some part of Max hated the way Grit was looking at him, and it only made him feel worse.

"You shouldn't be here," Grit repeated. It seemed he could find nothing else to say.

"And just what exactly is that supposed to mean?" Max growled, crossing his arms and clenching them tightly together in an attempt to still his quaking hands.

"Look around." Grit glanced over the plain. "Why do you think I had so few units to work with? Why do you think I'm stuck out here, ten miles north of nowhere, watchin' the grass grow?"

"What?"

Grit rubbed his brow. "What I'm saying is that the fellas in charge of Blue Moon don't much trust me to do as they say."

"So?" Max snapped.

He could feel his anger surging again. This was just like Grit. He would talk and talk in circles until you'd lost track of what you were trying to get from him in the first place. Max had no tolerance for that kind of dissembling. Not today.

"So chasin' me up here was a mistake," Grit said quietly. "I reckon you'll have put a mighty big hole in Orange Star's defences, or at least stretched 'em pretty thin."

In the space of a single heartbeat, Max's anger turned cold. It made sense. He remembered all of Rachel's communiques, all the times he had refused to answer. Max had been convinced that she was just trying to talk him out of what she believed to be a reckless chase. He hadn't even considered that there might be another reason she was so desperate to contact him. What if she had been attacked, and was calling for help? He had abandoned Rachel and left her to fend for herself, perhaps in her hour of greatest need. How could he ever look her in the eye after that? Max found himself reeling at the thought, overwhelmed by a growing horror at the possibility. What if the worst had happened? What if she was…

His heartbeat pounding in his ears, Max pulled his com out of his pocket. "Base, this is Max. See if you can get a hold of Commander Rachel and check her status. Yeah. Max out."

Grit's expression fell. "Oh, Maxie. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Shut it, Grit," Max snapped again, but this time he sounded wary and frightened.

He turned away, too late to stop Grit from seeing the fear in his eyes. He was still shaking with the aftereffects of his anger, even as an entirely different feeling came over him. Strange, and dizzying. Everything was swirling, and he was almost beginning to feel sick. Max hated the feeling, hated the anxiety that had turned his stomach hard as a rock, but most of all he hated the growing suspicion that Grit was right, and that he had made a terrible mistake. He'd been so fixated on stopping Grit that he hadn't even considered what might happen elsewhere after he took his troops off the main front. Max swallowed. Perhaps he really was nothing more than a clumsy fool.

Desperate to distract himself, he lifted his com and radioed back to base a second time.

"Anything from Rachel yet?"

"Not yet, sir."

Max's stomach gave another lurch. He felt fully nauseous now. What had he done?

"Wait a minute, Commander… we're receiving a signal now."

"From Rachel?"

"No, sir. It's coming from offshore."

"How's that possible?" Max was hit by a sickening mix of confusion and dashed hope. "I thought Blue Moon didn't have any ships in the area."

"Not a Blue Moon ship, sir. They're Comets."

"What?"

Max couldn't even find any other words. If he had been baffled before, he felt totally bamboozled now, like someone had slugged him across the face and he was still seeing stars.

"What do they want?" He managed to ask.

"The signal just said to stand by, sir. Said an envoy would be coming ashore."

"Got it," Max acknowledged, feeling increasingly unsteady. "Max out."

He looked to the sea, searching for whoever was out there. Even beneath the morning light, the ocean was so dark it almost looked black, crowned by the white froth of the roiling waves. He could barely discern a small shape amongst the constant motion, drawing ever closer to the barren sands. Some sort of landing boat, by the look of it. And there, further out… Max squinted hard at the vague shape, noting the length of its golden hull and the rise of its sail above the surface.

What the hell was a Yellow Comet sub doing all the way out here?

Max felt like a man who'd walked out onto a field of ice without knowing, only to find it cracking under his weight. Nothing made sense any more. The ground was collapsing beneath his feet, and all his certainties were crumbling. Max had thought he knew what he was doing. He'd been so sure that facing Grit was the right move, but now he felt like he understood nothing at all. The appearance of a Yellow Comet sub was just the final straw. After how aloof their former ally had grown, he hadn't expected them to make any kind of contact, let alone send a delegate for an impromptu meeting. Something strange was happening here, and Max didn't have the faintest idea what.

The boat was almost to the shore. Max waved to it in greeting as the craft beached itself on the sand, several soldiers in mustard fatigues leaping out and assuming a protective formation around another, smaller figure. As a group they moved across the beach at a brisk jog. The central figure wore black thermal leggings and a green dress that billowed about in the sea breeze, her small body wrapped in a thick sheepskin jacket. She had a hood up, and it was difficult to make out her features, but it was impossible to miss the distinctive red rimmed glasses she wore.

"Well I'll be damned," Grit breathed. "Sonja."

Max took a step forward as the group approached. "You wanna tell me what the hell is going on here, Sonja?"

Sonja marched up to him and yanked her hood down. There was a scowl on her thin lips, and her dark eyes were sharp and indignant behind her glasses.

"Isn't it perfectly obvious what's going on?" She scolded Max. "The two of you are fighting amongst yourselves when you should be working together. I can't believe you'd be so stupid!"

"You've got no right to lecture anyone," Max shot back. "I don't see Yellow Comet doing anything to stop Black Hole. You lot are happy just sitting on your islands while the whole world goes mad."

"That wasn't my decision," Sonja muttered. "Father thought –"

She continued to glare at Max as she cut herself short. The silence held for several seconds longer before Sonja sighed, and with visible effort recovered her composure.

"It isn't important now," she said in a more measured tone. "I didn't come here to debate politics. I'm here because there are things we need to discuss, and it has to be done in person. I absolutely cannot risk a transmission being intercepted."

Max took a moment to digest that announcement. Sonja was completely serious; she meant what she was saying. It was hardly a comforting thought, and Max was not in the mood for any more surprises. He was already rattled enough by the suspicion that things on the main front had gone very badly in his absence. Even so, he knew he could not ignore her.

"Alright, Sonja," Max said. "I'm listening. What's so damn important?"

That was all the opening Sonja needed. With self-assured poise she clasped her hands behind her back and drew herself up to her full height. It made little difference. Both Max and Grit were over six feet tall, and Sonja barely reached their shoulders.

"I have a theory regarding Black Hole. More specifically, regarding where their base of operations is located."

"We know where their base is," Max interrupted her. "Green Earth's prepping to hit it right now."

Sonja shook her head. "That's just it. I think everything that's happened might be no more than a diversion."

Grit raised an eyebrow. "How'd you figure that?"

"Well, let's consider the evidence." Sonja was fully in her element as she began to run through her theory. "This all began when you found the Black Cannon, a discovery that was followed by several more incidents in southern Orange Star. The enemy fleet movements, the connection to Brown Nebula, and now the island base: they're all pointing us in the same direction. South." She paused and looked each of them in the eye. "Don't you see?"

Max and Grit exchanged a glance. For one brief moment, the distance between them evaporated as they shared an unspoken understanding that neither of them had any clue what Sonja was getting at.

"It's too easy!" Sonja exclaimed in earnest. "Black Hole has done a masterful job of concealing their movements – up until now. So what's changed?"

Grit stroked his long goatee as he thought about that. "Might be that their operation's just gotten too darn big. You can hide a seed when it's small, but not once it's grown into a tree."

"Possibly." Sonja's tone made it clear she was unconvinced by that suggestion. "But I think it's more likely that we've discovered these clues because someone wants us to. Black Hole has consistently used tactics of misdirection in the past, and I believe they're doing the same now."

"Sounds like a stretch to me," Max said.

Sonja regarded him with a flat stare. "I think it's the best explanation for the enemy's strategy, or seeming lack thereof. Ask yourself, Max: what is Black Hole trying to accomplish? They attempted several missions in Orange Star, only to then pivot and launch a major assault on Green Earth. Why? What was the reason?"

Max crossed his arms. "Since when does Black Hole need a reason to attack us? They're just a bunch of psychos. They attack because they can."

"The enemy operation is obviously more complex than that," Sonja countered. "What we've seen was carefully planned, which means there must be some purpose to their actions. Don't you agree?"

Max said nothing. He could think of no rebuttal for that, and it did not sit well with him. Sonja was right. Black Hole's actions in Green Earth had been too precise, too measured. There was more to their strategy than blind aggression. Max had always been more concerned with winning the fights that were in front of him than analysing the bigger picture, but even he could see that the pieces didn't add up. They were missing something.

Sonja must have taken his silence for agreement, judging by the smug little smile that had appeared on her lips.

"As far as I can tell, Black Hole's actions since the discovery of the Black Cannon don't suggest any specific military objective," she continued. "They almost seem random. Therefore, I find it likely that this conflict is a diversion."

"One hell of a diversion," Max muttered to himself.

Grit raised one eyebrow at Sonja. "A diversion from what?"

Sonja's smile faded, replaced by a more contemplative expression. For the first time since she had arrived to meet them, she appeared uncertain.

"That's the part I'm not sure about," she admitted. "But, as I said, I suspect that Black Hole is trying to direct our focus. All the signs are telling us to look south, so I think we should be looking north instead."

Max's brow furrowed as he considered that further. There was a certain logic to Sonja's theory, even if the idea still seemed far fetched to him. And if it was true, then it meant that everything they'd fought so hard for was just… what? A trick? A game? Max wasn't sure, but he knew that if Sonja was right, the situation was far worse than they thought.

"There's nothin' up north but frozen wasteland," Grit commented. "You really reckon Black Hole's got a secret base somewhere out there?"

"I don't know." Sonja paused. "But I intend to find out. That's why I came here. I need your help, Grit."

"What do you need?" Grit asked, but he sounded uneasy.

"Blue Moon has several research and military stations close to the polar region, in the territories it annexed from Mauve Ring. I need access to their observational data from the last twelve months."

Grit was shaking his head even before Sonja had finished speaking, and there was sadness in his eyes. "I can't help you."

"But –" Sonja frowned. "Why not?"

"Intelligence is watchin' me like a hawk," Grit replied. "If I go snooping 'round where I'm not supposed to, they'll lock me up and throw away the key faster'n you can say tumbleweed three times backwards."

Max stirred at that. "Things are that bad in Blue Moon?"

Grit glanced sideways at him. There was a peculiar kind of weary surprise in his eyes, as if he couldn't quite believe that Max even had to ask.

"Blue Moon's about chewed me up and spat me out," he said. "I think my time fightin' for those folks is done, whether I like it or not."

"I… I see," Sonja said. "In that case, I'll just have to gather the intel I need myself."

Grit looked back at Sonja with faint alarm. "What are you up to, darlin'?"

"I'm going north. First to Mauve Ring, then on to the polar region. Once I'm there I'll start searching for signs of enemy activity. I was hoping the data from Blue Moon could point me in the right direction, but I'll manage without it."

"You really think you're gonna find something?" Max asked, still sceptical.

Sonja gave an enthusiastic nod. "I'm certain there's something up there that Black Hole doesn't want us to know about. Whatever it is, it has to be important."

"I don't like this," Grit muttered. "If you're right, you could be walkin' straight into the lion's den."

"I'm taking all possible precautions. Black Hole won't even know I'm there." For a second Sonja hesitated, and in the brief silence a newfound gravitas came over her. "I have to do this, Grit. We need to understand what's happening before it's too late."

"Fine." Grit looked her directly in the eye. "Then I'm going with you."

"Aren't you forgetting something, Grit?" Max said. "You're in Orange Star custody now. You're going nowhere unless I say so."

"You can't come with me, Grit," Sonja added. "Your disappearance would raise too many questions, and I have to keep my movements absolutely secret. Go with Max to Orange Star. We all have to work together if we're going to get to the bottom of this."

"Not much sure I'd be welcome," Grit murmured, his voice quiet and hurt. He looked to Max, a strange, unsteady look on his face. "Well, what do you say, Maxie? Is there enough space in that big country of yours for the both of us?"

Max shuddered and looked away, staring at the flecks of frosted grass on the ground. Everything had changed. Max could remember how furious he had been, how badly he had wanted to make Grit pay, but it all seemed so distant now. Looking back at the choices he'd made, he felt like the greatest fool in the world. It had been so easy to follow where his anger led, so easy to let it blot out all the things he knew were true. He had forgotten, for a moment, what was really at stake. Now, he only felt shaken and small.

"Yeah," Max said at last, his voice clouded with emotion. "If you're serious about coming home… I think we've got room."

Chapter Text

Operation Starfall.

That was what the powers that be had decided to call the joint Orange Star and Green Earth assault on Black Hole's base, and the desperate attempt to rescue Jess and Angel. It was not a name Sami would have chosen. To be fair, she thought most code names the top brass came up with were somewhere between trite and ridiculous. She expected nothing else from them, but this name was different. It did not sit well with her. It felt wrong. Taunting, almost; an irritant working its way under her skin, and daring her to lose control. To falter, and to fall. In the back of her mind Sami wondered if the name would prove prophetic, as if her fate had already been decided, and she was helpless to change it.

Sami's brow pinched as it occurred to her just how inane the thoughts running through her mind were. More than inane, if she was honest. It was only a name. Some bureaucrat had probably thought themselves rather clever for coming up with a code name that described a star finding its way to earth, just as Sami's task was to find the captured Green Earth commanders. It meant nothing, and it had no power over her destiny. To waste time and energy even thinking about something so frivolous was absurd, especially on the day of such a dangerous mission. Sami's expression softened, just a little, as she considered that. Perhaps it was better to think about a mere name, rather than dwell too much on what was about to happen.

The time was almost upon them. Dawn found Sami standing on the deck of Eagle's flagship, the aircraft carrier swarming with motion as its crew prepared their emerald jets for battle. Stowed away in a corner of the flight deck was the copter her squad had brought with them from Orange Star, a small island of home in a sea of green. There she prepared herself with the rest of her team, checking equipment, putting on gear, and making sure they were ready for the immense challenge that was to come.

Even with all the mayhem and cacophony of a carrier group about to begin combat operations, the scene around them was strangely serene. The lapping waves were dark against the ship's hull, the morning light still weak and faint. All was tinged by a misty grey, from the bright liveries of the warships and planes to the state of the art combat suit Sami wore. This far from shore, the dawn was beautiful. The sea was deep blue, strewn with flecks of gold where the burgeoning daylight touched it, and the sky was perfectly clear. For a moment Sami looked out across the ocean and let herself take in the beauty of the sunrise. As she stared into the soft amber sky, it occurred to her that this could be the last one she ever saw.

Unsettled not because she might soon be dead, but because of how little the possibility made her feel, Sami looked away from the horizon and back to the carrier. That was when she saw Eagle striding across the flight deck with poise and purpose. He was moving directly towards her, the orange helicopter beckoning to him like a signal fire. Just my luck, Sami thought. There was no true need for him to see her off, not when everything had already been decided. So why was he here?

Almost as soon as the question came to Sami, she pushed it away. There was no point in dwelling on that, either. No good would come of it, and besides, she'd find out what he wanted soon enough.

As Eagle approached, Sami steeled herself to speak to him as she'd had to a dozen times since they'd put Operation Starfall in motion.

"Commander Sami," he said in a polite voice, stepping alongside her.

"Commander Eagle." She didn't bother to look at him.

"I've just received word," he continued, his voice slightly strained. "Drake's engaged a large Black Hole fleet in the strait. It certainly seems he's gotten their attention."

"I see." Sami risked looking into Eagle's eyes, but found nothing familiar there. "When do you start launching jets?"

"Now."

She nodded once. "Then we'll be ready to follow."

There was nothing more to say. No need to discuss the plan, or go over what they both already knew, and yet Eagle was still standing there. Why wasn't he leaving?

"I regret that it must be this way between us," he offered at last.

Sami tensed, forcing herself to hold back a barbed reply. It didn't have to be this way. That was what she wanted to say. What she wanted to shout, actually. But it was neither the time nor the place, so she merely looked away and continued checking her equipment.

"So do I," she said, her voice rigid and cold.

Out of the corner of her eye Sami saw Eagle clasp his hands behind his back. Still he would not leave. It was infuriating, or at least, it would have been if every shred of self-control Sami possessed was not dedicated to keeping her emotions in check. Even so, she couldn't help but keep glancing at him, couldn't help but wonder what else he might want to tell her. If there was something more on Eagle's mind, he gave no sign of it. For the moment he seemed content to simply watch, studying her with his perfect, piercing gaze. Sami allowed herself a longer glance at him, noting the tense set of his lips and the dark rings beneath his eyes.

As she made eye contact, Eagle took a short breath.

"Sami…" he hesitated. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For this. I know it can't be easy, after –" He winced and cut himself short. "After everything."

Sami gave a brusque shrug. "Don't thank me. Thank Nell, thank the President – heck, thank the entire administration. I'm just a grunt doing what I'm told."

The shadow of a smile crossed Eagle's face. "I think we both know you're far more than a mere grunt, Sami."

Her discomfort growing, Sami turned aside and began securing additional supplies and ammo to her black combat suit. She knew how worried Eagle was. She saw the concern in his eyes, and in the way he was unable to conceal his emotions beneath his noble affectations. Sami could only imagine what he must have been going through. How did it feel to leave the fate of the woman he loved in the hands of the woman he had spurned? She felt a throb of dark amusement. It probably felt a great deal like being asked to rescue the very person who had destroyed the only meaningful romance Sami had ever known.

Ever since Nell had briefed them on her plan, Sami had done her best not to think too deeply about that. Tried not to think about whether she would have even tried to save this so-called Angel under different circumstances. There was a secret part of her – wounded, seething, and bitter – that didn't want to attempt a rescue, that wanted the girl to suffer for what she had done. Sami would never have given in to the impulse, of course. Not as things were. This was bigger than what had passed between her and Eagle. There was a great deal more at stake, and if nothing else, Sami was determined to get Jess, a woman whose bravery and resolve she greatly respected, out unharmed.

More to the point, it didn't matter if Sami would have chosen to be there or not. Her orders were to infiltrate the facility and extract the two Green Earth COs by any means necessary, and that was exactly what she would do. Anything else was irrelevant. The mission and the broader war effort were what mattered most, and her personal feelings were entirely inconsequential. Sami had her orders. She knew her duty, and that was everything. Such was her natural instinct; Sami was a soldier, and that was a good soldier's response.

A trace of sadness flickered in her brown eyes as she fixed a flash grenade to her belt. No matter how she tried, Sami could not escape the truth. Eagle was right. She was not the kind of soldier who obeyed orders without question. Orders or not, she knew in her heart that she would not have been standing there if she didn't want to be.

Sami shuddered. She couldn't deal with this. Not now, not today.

"Will there be anything else, Commander?" She asked Eagle, her voice rock hard.

His lips parted and for one single, fluttering moment Sami was afraid of what he might say. Then he swallowed, shook his head, and the moment was past.

"No. We'll signal you for take off once the first squadrons are away."

With a neat pivot and a brush of his navy blue sleeve Eagle was gone, striding back across the deck to the command tower.

Sami let out a breath she hadn't known she was holding, feeling suddenly small and tired. Then came a flash of anger. She hated this. Hated that this man who had treated her so badly could still hold so much power over her. She scowled and finished clipping equipment to her belt. Damn him for making her feel this way, right as she was about to leave on what would probably be the most dangerous mission of her life. Her focus had to be perfect. Emotion had no place in her world, not if the mission was going to succeed. Emotion would get her killed where she was going.

She closed her eyes and exhaled again, focusing on the rhythm of her breathing in an attempt to calm herself. Eagle was irrelevant. Eagle did not exist. There was only the mission.

Sami turned away and climbed into the waiting helicopter, its rotors already beginning to spin. The other four members of her team were already strapped into their seats. They had boarded the copter while she spoke to Eagle, and everyone was ready to depart. Sami pulled the side door closed behind her, shutting out the busy world beyond, and Eagle along with it.

"Everything okay, Cap?"

She glanced sideways. Sitting near the cockpit was a dark skinned giant of a man who wore a combat suit like her own, and those worn by the other three members of the squad. Blaine was her second in command on the mission, and, like her, a highly experienced Special Forces captain. His deep brown eyes were watching her carefully, and Sami did not like it. She was not at all comfortable with the thought that her agitation was obvious enough to see.

"Fine," she replied. "Everything's fine."

That wasn't true, but Sami had no choice but to pretend that it was. With a conscious effort to keep her expression neutral, she sat down beside Blaine and fastened her seatbelt. Along the other end of the cabin sat her other three team members. There was Drew, the youngest member of the team, with his rosy cheeks and cleft chin, Wyatt, a tall, fit man whose lip was marked by a neat blonde moustache, and Cruz, a compact woman with dark hair and dark eyes. They were all Special Forces soldiers who Sami had worked with in the past, and whose abilities she knew were equal to her own. If anyone could rescue Green Earth's commanders, they could.

The rotors began to pick up speed, and the roar of the engines filled the cabin as the transport lifted off. Sami pulled her combat helmet on and fastened the straps beneath her chin, then put a hand to its side, next to her cheek. Her fingers found a small switch and turned it on, activating the sophisticated radio system in the helmet. The unusual nature of this mission – and the short amount of time they'd had to prepare for it – had made the radio an essential piece of equipment. There was no guarantee it would even work, of course. Black Hole had demonstrated an incredible ability to interfere with communications during the assault on Green Earth, but this was the best chance they had.

Sami took a deep breath and spoke. "Den Mother, this is Red Lioness." Another trite code name, one that belonged to her this time. "Do you copy?"

"This is Den Mother," Nell's voice came through. "I read you, Red Lioness."

Sami felt a tiny burst of relief. Making contact with their command in Orange Star was only a small success, but it was a comforting one.

"What's your current status?" Nell asked.

"Preparations are complete, and we're en route to the drop zone."

"Have you encountered any problems?"

"Not yet, ma'am," Sami said. "Everything looks good so far."

"I'm glad to hear it."

Even through the haze of the secure com link, Sami could hear the genuine relief in her superior's voice. Nell was less able to hide her emotions of late, and no doubt the latest developments in the war with Blue Moon would only have made things worse.

Sami had been too busy preparing for her current mission to study events on the front in any detail, but even from second hand reports she knew how dire the situation was. Max had withdrawn a significant number of troops from their positions, which left the defences severely weakened. As soon as Blue Moon realised what had happened, they responded by launching a full scale assault, and before long, the centre of Orange Star's entire defensive line had collapsed. From what Sami had heard, the whole front was embroiled in heavy fighting. The outlook was grim. Rachel was a good commander, but there was little hope she could repel this attack. Without Max's troops she was badly outmatched, and by the time reinforcements could reach the front lines, it would be far too late. All they could do now was wait for a clearer picture to emerge, and brace for worse news to come.

Not for the first time Sami tried to push the war from her mind. The fight against Blue Moon might soon decide the fate of their country, but today, it was just another distraction.

"I'll hand you over to Stray Cat now," Nell continued. "And Red Lioness? Good luck. We're all hoping for your safe return."

"Thank you, ma'am."

Sami felt a sliver of shame creep through her stomach. She had not forgotten how Nell reprimanded her during their last conference, and every time Sami recalled her outburst, she could not help but feel disgusted with her conduct. There had been no reference to their previous conversation on Nell's part, only a calm confidence that Sami could get the job done, but somehow that was worse. Knowing that she had Nell's complete trust only made Sami more determined not to let her emotions cloud her judgement again. She refused to let anyone down. Not Nell, not the people of Green Earth, and not herself.

Sami heard the sounds on the other end of the line shift. A moment's silence followed, and then –

"Hello?" A shrill voice came through. "Hey jerkface, can you hear me?"

"Great," Sami muttered. "Just when I thought this day couldn't get any worse, now you're in my head."

"Boo!" Lash said. "I don't like you either. You're all strict and serious and mean!"

Sami rolled her eyes. They were off to an excellent start, she thought with no small dose of sarcasm. Lash was as professional as ever.

It had always been the part of the plan Sami was most uncomfortable with. For Operation Starfall to succeed, she and her team had to put their lives in the hands of a mercurial, immature psychopath. Despite what Nell and Andy seemed to think, Sami found it difficult to believe that Lash could be relied upon, let alone trusted. Where did her loyalties truly lie? In Omega Land, there had been ample reason for Lash to cooperate with the Allied Nations. Simple self-interest and a lack of other options had made it a necessity. Now, however? Sami doubted Lash had any genuine desire to help Orange Star, not after her incarceration in Thornfield. That wasn't necessarily a problem, so long as she could be kept under control, but Sami suspected that was impossible. Lash was unpredictable and devious. Black Hole's mad little inventor might have been safely in their custody for the moment, but it remained to be seen how long that would last. If Lash decided to rejoin her friends on the other side, and put her considerable intellect to the task, Sami didn't know if they could stop her.

It didn't matter now, she reflected. The mission was underway, and it was too late to turn back. Lash was their best hope to rescue the two Green Earth COs from Black Hole's clutches. Or rather, their only hope to rescue them.

"Hey, are you still there?" Lash asked, her voice flat and bored.

"Yes, Stray Cat," Sami said. "I'm still here. This connection stays open no matter what, remember?"

"Duh, of course I remember. I'm a –"

"Genius," Sami finished. "I know. Just don't get cocky, okay? We're depending on you, so please… take this seriously and do exactly what I say."

Lash said nothing, and Sami was suddenly struck by how ridiculous her words sounded. She might as well have been talking to a rock. Still, Sami didn't need the girl to be receptive. She only needed Lash to do as she was told.

Eventually Lash gave a dramatic sigh. "Whatever," she said. "Like it matters to me."

Sami fought back the urge to snap at her. There was simply no point in trying to impress upon Lash the gravity of the situation. All things considered, resignation was probably the best response Sami could hope for.

"We're approaching the drop zone now," the pilot's voice came through. "You're all clear, Red Lioness."

"Copy that, Tango One."

Sami gestured to her team, and they began making the last preparations to descend. A full landing was out of the question. They would be too vulnerable to enemy fire on the ground, and besides, their chosen access point would take too long to reach from anywhere the copter could set down. Instead they had opted to approach the enemy base from the water while the transport stayed airborne. It was a difficult manoeuvre, but one that Sami's team was more than capable of executing. They were Special Forces. The best. Doing the impossible was what they were trained for.

A light on the side wall turned from red to green. With a click Blaine released the lock on the main door and threw it open. He would be first to exit the cabin, and he had already secured himself to the hoist cable as they made their approach. As the copter slowed, he assumed a position ready to descend. Meanwhile, Sami and the others undid their seatbelts and transferred themselves to the cabin's mobile restraints. All around them the world shook and shuddered with the power of the helicopter's engines, and ahead, through the open door, Sami could see the sky as it grew steadily more blue with the rising sun.

The copter came to a full stop and held steady. Sami heard a metallic thud as the boat slung to the transport's underside was released, and then Blaine dropped out of sight. They were away. The sequence was carried out with perfect efficiency. One by one, the soldiers descended via the hoist, and before long Sami was alone in the cabin. She moved to the door, ready to secure herself to the hoist as soon as it returned. In that moment, as she looked across the sea, a wistful feeling came over her. The horizon was perfect and calm, even as the rest of the world was wracked with turmoil and strife. It seemed so distant from all the pain and struggle, from all that her life had become. In those precious few seconds as Sami waited for the hoist to come back, she could not help but imagine what it would be like to head towards the horizon and never look back, to leave the world and all its problems far behind. Would it make a difference? Would she find some peace that way?

For the space of a single heartbeat Sami considered the idea, truly considered what it would be like. The wistfulness grew stronger, becoming a sorrow almost strong enough to bring her to tears. No, Sami decided. That wasn't who she was. Running away was not the answer to her problems; she was certain of that.

The moment passed. As quickly as it had come, the feeling subsided, and Sami was left knowing with every fibre of her being that she was exactly where she was meant to be.

Sami had barely come to that realisation when the hoist returned, and there was no more time for such thoughts. It was time to move. With a newfound sense of purpose, Sami attached herself to the harness and kicked off. The ocean below was a swirl of white brine, the surface churned into a storm by the immense downforce of the copter's rotors. A wave swelled and Sami was struck by a splash of spray and saltwater, but she did not falter as she headed for the large inflatable boat waiting below.

As Sami reached the surface, Blaine reached out to guide her in. Once she was safely aboard the boat, she disengaged from the harness and signalled their transport to move off. It was too dangerous for the copter to stay close while they were inside the Black Hole base. After they were safely out again – assuming they made it safely out again – they would signal for an extraction, but for the time being, they were on their own.

"We good, Cap?" Blaine asked.

"We are," Sami replied, "so let's get this over with."

She put a hand to her helmet. The radio was fully waterproof, and it would take more than a few jolts to break it. Sami knew that, but she still felt compelled to check that it was working properly after the descent.

"Stray Cat? Do you read me?"

At first there was no reply. Sami felt a stab of panic. Was it possible that the radio had malfunctioned? Surely not.

"Oh, right," Lash blurted out. "That's me. Yeah, I'm here. What, you need something?"

"Just making sure you're still with us," Sami said.

She took a deep breath and looked all around, assessing the situation. The sea was empty and their copter a receding blur in the sky. Ahead, the coastline awaited. High, sandy cliffs towered over the ocean, waves crashing against the jagged rocks at their base. So far there was no sign of trouble. Sami could hear the distant sounds of battle, the faint noise of jet engines and explosions carrying faintly through the morning sky, but they were vague and faraway. It seemed Eagle and Drake had successfully diverted the enemy's attention, and given her team the opening they needed.

As they approached the cliffs, Blaine adjusted the inflatable craft's heading, pointing it towards the mouth of an inlet. Even along the more sheltered section of the coast, the water's edge was dominated by foreboding rock formations, but there were enough stretches of bare sand to make a safe landing. Sami surveyed the area as the boat drew closer to shore, but she could see no danger. The inlet was deserted.

"We're coming up on the landing site," Sami reported. "Have you taken care of any security cameras?"

"Of course I have," Lash scoffed. "I'm inside their system, and those losers don't even know it. I've got key parts of their network on a loop playing footage from yesterday." She giggled to herself. "Those dopes won't see a thing."

"Acknowledged. Let me know if anything changes."

Somehow Sami did not find Lash's boasts reassuring. Instead, she felt only a ripple of vague unease as she wondered again just how far Lash could be trusted. Still, the early signs were encouraging. There had been no response from the enemy so far, and they had to be watching this entrance.

The boat reached the shore, running aground on a shallow beach. Sami and the others stepped onto the sand with guns at the ready, checking again the landing site was safe. Still there was no sign of any enemies. Sami signalled to the others. She, Wyatt, and Cruz covered the landing site while Blaine and Drew secured the boat. In addition to throwing down the anchor, they made sure the inflatable craft was firmly tied down with ropes. They could take no chances. The boat was their way off the island, provided the plan went well; if it did not, they would have to find another way to rendezvous with the copter.

Once the inflatable craft was moored the team made its way around the inlet, stepping across rocks and wet sand. Sami took point as they moved towards the mouth of a large cave, burrowing into the cliff face. There was a metal platform of some kind protruding from the dark. A small pier, painted a similar shade of brown as the surrounding rock. Up close it was obvious that this was no natural formation, but from afar it would have been impossible to detect, Sami realised as she stepped onto the metal. Not unless you already knew where to look.

How long had it been there? For all they knew, this facility could have been operating in secret for years. Perhaps even since the first war, when Black Hole established a base of operations on the island, if not even earlier. The region had been thoroughly searched after the conflict ended, but it was possible they had missed something, especially if the enemy had taken pains to conceal it. It was a disturbing notion. Sami didn't know how long the events unfolding now had been planned for, but she found herself considering the possibility this went back much further than they suspected. The idea sent a tingle of dread down the back of her spine.

Metallic footsteps echoed out as she led the team into the cavern. There were lines of silver and blue visible in the gloom where the morning light reached the cave, reflected across the rocks from the water's surface. The glittering patterns cast a faint glow over the surroundings as they shimmered and danced. The effect was eerie, like the illusion of being underwater. It was beautiful, in a haunting kind of way, but Sami did not let the sight distract her.

The team's pace slowed as they moved along the pier, wary of what might lie in wait. After perhaps twenty metres they came to a metal door, painted the same brown colour as everything else. Exactly where the blueprints Lash had acquired said it would be. Sami looked over the door. There was no handle, no keyhole, nothing but reinforced metal. She gave the door a test shove, but it would not budge. Locked.

She turned to Blaine. "Let's get a breaching charge set up. Minimum yield. We'll blow the hinges." She then spoke in a slightly louder voice for the benefit of those listening back in Orange Star. "This is Red Lioness," she said. "We've reached the exterior door, and we're going to blast it open. Stray Cat, can you make sure we don't set off any alarms?"

"Easy peasy," Lash replied. "But someone might still hear a huge explosion." She snickered. "Or your big stinky feet plodding around!"

Sami barely managed to stop herself from growling. "Just handle the alarms."

Blaine and Cruz stepped back from the door. They had finished preparing the charge. Blaine directed the team to back off, and they withdrew to the end of the pier.

"Standby for detonation on my mark," Sami said. "Three… two… one… mark!"

The signal was sent. A split second later, a small explosion erupted along the door frame, the sound of groaning metal carrying across the water. The soldiers raced forward. They needed to move fast, while the element of surprise was still on their side, and force an entrance before anyone inside the base could react. Blaine shoved the door and with a metallic screech pushed it inwards until it stood half open. Sami and Cruz were first into the breach. As the smallest members of the team they could go through quickest and with least risk of getting jammed.

They slipped through and into the darkened room beyond with rifles raised. A rapid inspection of their new surroundings revealed no threats. The space was empty.

"Clear!" Cruz yelled.

One by one the rest of the team came through the gap. Sami and Cruz walked further into the room, still searching for any sign of danger. There was nothing there except large pieces of machinery, a ventilation system, and stacked crates, all dimly lit by a strip of florescent lights. Whatever kind of maintenance or storage area this was, it clearly wasn't important enough to warrant any permanent staff. Soon the whole team was through, and together they moved quickly to the far end of the room, where another door led into the base proper. Sami glanced up at a security camera mounted on the wall as they approached, feeling another pang of trepidation. Soon they would know if Lash's little tricks had worked.

The team reached the far door. This one was ordinary wood, and while it had no handle, there was a large metal strip to one side. Some kind of lock, Sami surmised, linked to a keycard scanner mounted on the wall. She tested the door with her foot, but it too was firmly shut. Briefly she considered her options. Perhaps this was a problem that Lash could solve.

"Stray Cat, we're at a locked door with some kind of security scanner. Can you get it open?"

"Of course I can. I can blow the whole lock up, or fry the whole system!" Lash laughed like a maniac.

Sami rolled her eyes. "Just unlock the door," she said in a firm voice. "And do it quietly!"

"Boooring."

Seconds ticked by and bled into a minute, and nothing happened. Sami was beginning to wonder if Lash had as much control over the Black Hole systems as she claimed when she heard a dull click, and the door swung open.

Sami pushed through and emerged in a stairwell. Dim lights and unfinished concrete walls were all that greeted her there. This was a desolate and empty place, devoid of life like the maintenance room before it. Sami glanced upwards, searching for any sign of movement on the stairs, but there was none. The situation was straightforward. They were at the very bottom of the base, the way was clear, and there was nowhere to go but up.

"How many levels to the target?" She asked Drew.

"Three floors up, ma'am," he replied.

Sami nodded, and motioned for the team to begin. Drew was in charge of guiding them through the base. He might have been young, but he was highly intelligent, and his memory in particular was exceptional. In the space of a few hours he had memorised not only their route to the target, but the layout of most of the other floors as well. Sami could have received directions from Lash through the radio link, but that was not an option she could safely rely on. Depending too much on Lash was dangerous. Not because Sami did not trust the girl, but because if communications went down, they would have no choice but to manage without her. The more redundancies built into the mission, the better.

The ascent was quick but cautious. They advanced in a leapfrog pattern, two members covering each flight of stairs while the rest of the squad moved up. There were no distractions during the climb, and no sign of any other living being. If there had been any personnel or soldiers stationed in this part of the base, they had been drawn elsewhere by Green Earth's assault. The plan, it seemed, had worked to perfection. They had their opening. Now, all they needed to do was fight their way through the base proper, locate Jess and Angel, and escape the facility. Simple, Sami thought wryly.

They reached the third level. Another locked door greeted them, furnished with the same keycard system as the one on the bottom floor.

"We've reached the security door on level three," Sami said. "Can you –"

"Yeah, yeah," Lash muttered. "Open it, don't blow it up. I know."

"At least you're a fast learner."

Lash said nothing more, but Sami could practically hear her seething. Allowing herself the tiniest smile of satisfaction, Sami leant over and examined the door. This one had a small window of glass and wire mesh set into its frame, and on the other side she could make out a barren corridor. It too appeared empty. The only lights were stark and harsh, and the metal panels on the walls gleamed beneath the bright illumination.

Sami straightened up. "Looks like we're clear to go in," she advised the team. "What's our next move?"

"We follow this corridor to the end," Drew replied, "make a left, then take the first door on the right. According to Lash's schematics, we'll be in a med lab. There's an exit on the other side that'll put us right next to the inner section."

"Where the targets are being held," Sami finished. "Right. Let's move out!"

The Special Forces team burst through the door and began to sprint down the corridor. They were halfway along it when an alarm klaxon sounded. Sami's heart skipped a beat. She held up one hand and the team froze, flattening themselves against the walls and readying their weapons.

"Attention, all personnel," an announcement came through over a speaker system. "The facility is under attack. Go to your assigned combat positions, and await further instructions. This is not a drill."

Just a routine announcement, Sami decided. They were still clear. She signalled the group to advance as the blaring klaxon sounded again. Blaine was first to reach the junction at the end of the corridor. He peeked out from behind the wall, first looking to the right as he checked for enemies. Blaine had barely turned left before he pulled back with a jerk of his head. Almost in the same moment, the harsh sound of gunfire rang out.

"We've got company!" Blaine shouted.

Their training kicked in. The team moved in perfect unison, darting out around the corner in sequence as they laid down suppressing fire. There was only a few seconds to take in the situation, but that was enough. A full squad of ten Black Hole soldiers was advancing down the corridor to the left, most likely on a patrol of the area.

Sami swore. The enemy soldiers were blocking the exact path they needed to take, and her team couldn't move right either, not without exposing themselves to heavy fire. They were pinned.

"Options!" Sami yelled. "Do we have another route to the target?"

"Negative, ma'am!" Drew shouted back, the exchange punctuated by constant staccato bursts of gunfire. "We can double back and try to circle around this junction, but we'll still have to get across that corridor!" He gestured towards the left with a nod of his head.

There was no time to properly consider the alternatives. A frontal assault was suicide. They could try to outflank the enemy, and risk trapping themselves in an even worse position, or they could abort the mission and retreat. Sami cursed under her breath. She had no good options, and no time to decide. Unless…

"Lash!" Sami said. "When I say so, cut all the lights in this section!"

Lash snickered to herself. "You're not supposed to call me that."

"Just do as I say!" Sami shouted, her patience gone.

"Fine," Lash said. "Whatever you say, boss."

Sami couldn't stand how unprofessional the girl was, but there was nothing she could do except tolerate her behaviour, or at least try to. She glanced at each member of her team in turn.

"We go dark on my order," she said, her voice terse.

There was only the slightest shift in their expressions to show that they understood her plan, but it was enough. A glint of recognition in the eye, the most subtle of nods. Everyone present had worked together in the past, and gone through the same intense training. They did not need words to know what each other was thinking.

The team had pulled back and was standing by to activate their night vision. They were ready.

"Lash, cut the lights now!" Sami ordered.

She could not keep a trace of fear from running through her as she gave the order. There was not even enough time for her to consciously acknowledge the sensation before all the lights went out with an electrical crackle, and the world turned black.

Sami and her team sprang into action. As everything went dark, they switched to night vision and surged around the corner. They had only a few seconds, but that was enough. With ruthless precision they swept through the enemy soldiers in a blaze of gunfire. Four of those inhuman creatures dropped in the first volley, falling to the ground with only the hiss of their depressurising suits. Only as they took aim at the next targets did the Black Hole troops began to adjust and fight back, their return fire wild and unfocused. Sami did not flinch or waver, her battle hardened nerves holding steady even as the bullets flew past. In a firefight, her Special Forces had no equal.

The battle was over in less than a minute. Every Black Hole soldier had been eliminated, their motionless bodies strewn across the floor.

"Bring the lights back on," Sami told Lash. "We're clear."

It was a weakness they had first discovered during the Second Great War. The cyborg soldiers used by the enemy were slow to adapt to sudden changes in the surrounding light levels. It was rare they were equipped with dedicated night vision gear, and their reaction time was poor under such circumstances. It could take them up to ten seconds to respond. A small window of advantage, but all that Sami and her team needed.

The experiences of recent years had taught Orange Star many valuable lessons about their foe, but there was still a great deal they did not understand about Black Hole's infantry. It was only during the late stages of the conflict in Macro Land that the allies had caught a disturbing glimpse into the nature of the enemy's new army. Between information gleaned from captured bases and the examination of bodies recovered from the battlefield, they had learnt much about the unnatural creations they fought, the face of evil reborn. Twisted science and cloning technology had developed a type of soldier that could be grown in bulk and at great speed. Once augmented with robotic parts, they were approximately equal in ability to human soldiers, and even capable of independent thought – or at least the appearance of it. In some ways they were even superior, but they were not without flaws, sometimes ones that ordinary men and women did not suffer. The past few minutes were proof of that.

The lights came back on with the groan of relighting bulbs. Sami cast a rapid glance around the corridor. Most of her team had pulled through the firefight unscathed, but Cruz was doubled over in pain, two spent bullets visible where they had slammed into the body armour covering her chest. Worse, her left arm was immobile, blood dripping to the floor from her limp fingers. Cruz tried to take a step forward, only to lurch sideways. Her leg had been hit as well.

"Medkit," Sami said to Drew, who carried what few medical supplies they had.

He retrieved a kit from his belt and tossed it to Cruz, who managed to catch the pack with one hand. Sami didn't like her condition at all, but there was no time to tend to the wounded. They had to move fast, especially now that they had encountered resistance. If any member of the team could no longer keep up, there was no choice but to leave them behind. Everyone was well aware of that, but as team leader, it fell to Sami to make the call.

"Get back to the stairs," she ordered Cruz, "and cover the exit. Everyone else, with me."

"Give 'em hell," Cruz said through gritted teeth as the others moved out.

Sami threw her comrade a quick nod. Then she turned and began running down the corridor, heading straight for the first door on the right. She kicked it open and moved into the lab, checking the room for enemies. Nothing there. Just racks of shelves and cupboards, holding all kinds of scientific and medical equipment.

"Clear!" She yelled, leading the team across the lab.

They were almost to the other side when another klaxon sounded.

"Intruder alert!" A new announcement came through. "Enemy forces have breached the perimeter. All soldiers to level three immediately."

The set of Sami's lips turned grim. The enemy had sounded the alarm, she was down a team member, and they weren't even inside the inner section of the base yet. She needed to hurry.

"Stray Cat," she said as she pulled the other lab door open, "we've got enemy reinforcements incoming. Anything you can do to slow them down –"

"Do it!" Lash finished.

Sami leant forward and glanced down the next corridor. She could see two guards standing outside a security checkpoint. With a quick gesture she communicated that to Blaine, and together they rushed through the doorway. They each took out one of the guards in a burst of accurate fire, confirming the pair were dead as they raced to the checkpoint, where an armoured door blocked their path. It was massive, made of reinforced metal with no obvious weak points. To one side a computer terminal was attached to the wall, but it offered no hope of entry. The screen was locked down, and Sami had no way of accessing it. Not from her current location, at least.

"How fast can you get this door open?" Sami asked Lash.

A frustrated grunt came back at her over the radio link. "I dunno, those stupid twerps are trying to stop me!"

"What does that mean?" Sami demanded.

"It means they know I have access! They're trying to reboot the whole system and shut me out! Those jerks, why can't they just let me play?"

Of course, Sami thought. This was all just a game to Lash. She shook her head and turned to Wyatt.

"Blow it," she ordered.

Wyatt glanced over the reinforced door, one eyebrow raised. "Ma'am, I ain't sure we brought enough explosives to take that monster down," he said in his slow drawl.

"Then give it everything we've got."

"Yes ma'am."

She knew that using all their demolition charges was a risk. If they needed to blast open another door deeper inside the facility, they would have to rely on grenades and guns, and nothing more. It was a risk, but it was an acceptable one. Sami suspected that the base was designed to keep intruders out of the inner section, which meant there was a good chance that its security was much lighter on the other side of this door. She allowed herself a small sigh. Whatever obstacles awaited her team, they would have to confront them one at a time.

Sami and the others covered the corridor while Wyatt prepared the charges. It was a quiet wait, save for the occasional shrieks of fury that came through the radio as Lash waged her own battle inside the Black Hole computer system. Together with Blaine and Drew, Sami pulled back to the lab's entrance. They could not become trapped with their backs to the security door. There was no sign of more enemy soldiers closing in on their position from either direction. An uneasy lull had fallen over the facility. The alarm continued to sound at regular intervals, but the base otherwise seemed empty, save for Sami, her team, and the dead.

Several minutes passed. Sami remained alert, scanning every point she had line of sight on for danger. The charges were almost ready when she heard a garbled noise over her radio.

Sami frowned. "Stray Cat, come in."

There was no reply. Only several word fragments, interspersed with static. Sami's alarm grew as she tried to make sense of the sounds, but it was no use. She heard a sharp whine, and then the radio simply went silent.

"Red Lioness to Stray Cat," Sami repeated. "Do you copy?"

Nothing.

"This is Red Lioness to any friendly," she tried again. "Does anybody read me?"

Still there was no answer. Sami knew that further attempts to contact their allies were pointless. Whether because of enemy interference or simply because they had moved too deep into the facility, she was cut off from the outside world. They were on their own.

"Problem?" Blaine asked.

"We've lost Lash," Sami replied. "The radio's dead."

He grunted. "Do we continue?"

"That's affirmative."

Blaine accepted that with a small nod, but Sami could tell he knew how serious the situation was. They all did. Their window of opportunity to locate the targets and safely escape was shrinking rapidly, and every member of the team knew it.

"Ready!" Wyatt shouted, running to join the rest of the squad.

Together they took shelter inside the lab. Once everyone was well away from the corridor, Sami gave the order. Her team covered their ears as a colossal explosion ripped through the nearby hallway, a wall of smoke and flame rushing past the closed door. Everything around them trembled and shook, the shelves and cupboards set rattling by the sheer force of the blast.

Once the explosion subsided, Blaine flashed a grin at Sami. "Well, Cap, if they didn't know our position, they do now."

"So let's hurry." Sami turned to Drew. "Which way next?"

"Through that checkpoint until we reach the next intersection, left, and into a hospital wing at the end of the corridor. According to Lash, that's where the targets are being held."

That was all Sami needed to know. She led the team past the mangled mess of twisted steel and exposed walls, charred and blackened by the explosion. The blast had left the reinforced door warped and deformed, but it was still in one piece, resting on the floor. Where it had once stood there was only a gaping, jagged hole. The metal shuddered beneath Sami's boots as she moved across it. Soon they cleared the smoke, breaking through into a different kind of haze. The sprinkler systems had activated, sheeting the corridor in a watery mist. Sami and the others slowed to a walk. The floor was wet and dangerous, and they could not afford to slip.

Soon they reached the next junction. Ahead there was nothing but the same type of sterile, empty corridor they had observed throughout the facility.

"Right side clear," Blaine called out as he and Sami checked for enemies.

"Two targets left," she reported.

Another pair of Black Hole soldiers stood at the entrance to the medical wing, only a short distance away. As one she and Blaine burst forward, laying down covering fire. It was all the opportunity their comrades needed to line up a more precise shot and eliminate both foes. Any return fire went wide, leaving Sami and her team unharmed.

They covered the distance to the end of the corridor at a brisk walk, mindful of the still falling water. There were glass windows inset in the doors to the medical wing, and Sami tried to assess what lay beyond as they approached. Her field of vision through the glass was limited, but she saw no movement or other signs of life. What she could make out looked more like a hospital or medical clinic than what they had seen of the base so far.

She slowed as they reached the door. It was possible there were more hostiles on the other side, waiting out of sight. Charging in blind was dangerous; too dangerous, even under their current constraints.

Making a snap decision, Sami pulled a grenade from her vest, propped one door partly open, and hurled it through. Her team turned away and shut their eyes tight. One second passed, then two, and then…

A muffled bang, almost like a crack, reached their ears. The flash grenade had gone off, and in its wake the Special Forces team rushed into the medical wing. There was no time to prepare any further. With rifles raised they moved into an open area. An island of desks and computers dominated the space, and medical equipment was scattered around the edges. There was no one there. Two sides of the medical wing were glass from floor to ceiling, providing a view into several patient rooms. Most appeared empty, but one was alive with motion. Two figures in surgical scrubs – humans – were standing around a medical bed. Sami beckoned for Blaine to follow her and directed the others to sweep the rest of the wing.

She burst into the occupied room, Blaine right behind her. In a split second Sami assessed the situation. The two women looked like nurses attending a patient. There was nothing in their hands, and they did not appear to be armed. The threat was minimal.

"Against the wall!" She yelled, gesturing towards the far side of the room. "Hands on your head!"

One of the women screamed and did as she was told. The other did not. Instead she slowly turned to face the two soldiers, her dark eyes ablaze with hatred.

"Orange Star," she spat at them.

Sami took a single step forward, her gun pointed directly at the nurse's chest. "Against the wall," she repeated, her voice hardening.

The woman's lip curled in contempt. "Your time is up," she hissed. "The resurrection is at hand."

Sami matched the woman's hateful stare, unimpressed. A moment more passed before the nurse broke eye contact and moved to stand in the corner beside her trembling colleague. It seemed she had made her point.

With any threat contained, Sami's attention turned to the medical bed, and the tall woman who lay beneath the blankets. It was Jess. Her eyes were closed, and she had not stirred. Most likely she was sedated. There was a bandage on Jess's brow, and her dyed red hair was gone. Her scalp had been completely shaved. More concerning was the strange device clamped to the back of her skull, a headset of smooth, rounded metal that covered half of her head. It was connected to a power source by a cable, a mirror for the IV in Jess' right arm. Sami felt a twinge of apprehension as she studied the machine. What had they done to her?

"Orders, Cap?" Blaine asked quietly.

Doubt, unwelcome and unwanted, sounded though Sami. She had no idea what she was dealing with here, and no time to try and understand it. Jess was unconscious, but beyond that, her condition remained a mystery. Sami walked to the bed and briefly studied the device on Jess's head. She tested to see if she could pull it off, but the machine was securely attached and would not budge. There was no way to remove it, not without risking serious injury. For all Sami knew, even severing the power could kill Jess, but that was a risk they had to take. There were simply no other options.

"Disconnect her and get her up," Sami decided. "Whatever that thing on her head is, we'll deal with it later."

Blaine nodded and stepped around the bed, pulling out the IV cable while Sami covered the two nurses. She glanced away for a split second at the sound of approaching footsteps, but it was only her other team members joining them.

"Report," Sami said.

'No one else here, ma'am," Wyatt replied. "This place is empty."

Sami's attention snapped fully back to the nurses. "There were two prisoners brought here from Green Earth," she said. "Where's the other one?"

No answer. One nurse cowered and whimpered to herself, while her more defiant colleague simply stared back at Sami with those hateful eyes. Sami's patience gave way, and she fired several bullets above their heads.

"Where?" She shouted.

"They took her for a scan!" The frightened nurse squealed.

"How far?" Sami pressed.

"Just – just through the doors, on the left side of the corridor, there's a lab."

Sami considered that, her mind racing. It was possible that the nurse was lying. Perhaps unlikely considering how terrified she was, but possible. Of course, even if it was a lie, there was no time to interrogate the pair further. Sami looked at Blaine, who had taken Jess over one shoulder in a fireman's carry. They were ready to go.

"Let's move out," she ordered. "We'll check the lab next."

The team withdrew with Sami the last to leave. Upon reaching the door she hesitated, and glanced back at the two nurses.

"If I were you, I'd get the hell out of here."

With those parting words she joined the others. Sami found herself increasingly uncertain as the team exited the medical wing, and she tried to assess the status of the mission. What if they couldn't locate Angel? The situation was precarious enough already. Her orders were to rescue the two Green Earth commanders, but she could hardly accomplish that if her entire team was trapped and killed during a fruitless search. It was better to retrieve one of her targets than none, if those were the only options. The more Sami considered the situation, the more she could not help but think it would be prudent – sensible, even – to cut her losses and withdraw, even though that would create a slew of new problems.

The idea was deeply confronting. Not because it would mean she had failed to complete her mission, but because she no longer knew if she could trust her instincts. Was abandoning Angel a tactical decision, or the petty revenge of a jilted lover? Sami had no idea. It was possible her own hurt was affecting her judgement, and that scared her more than anything. She could not let that happen. She couldn't let her integrity be compromised, or fail in her duty. It was a noble sentiment, but one that was of no help to her now. Her objectivity was gone. She could force herself to stay and search for Angel, but what if that too was a mistake? What if she lingered too long, and got her whole team killed in a bid to overcorrect for her own emotions? Sami couldn't let that happen either. She did not know what the right course of action was, and the weight of her doubts was paralysing.

With all her will Sami pushed those thoughts away. Their next objective was to check the scanning lab for Angel. Beyond that, she could only respond to the situation as it evolved, and hope she did not make a terrible mistake.

As the team entered the corridor again, Sami made sure to check each door on the left. The second one they came to was graced with a small sign: it read 'radiology room' in multiple languages. The nurse had been telling the truth about that, if nothing else.

Sami called a halt. "You two, wait here," she said to Blaine and Drew. "Wyatt, with me."

Blaine and Drew assumed positions covering the corridor as Sami tested the handle. Like the other doors in this section, it was unlocked. Black Hole, it seemed, had not expected any intruders to make it this far.

Inside, the radiology room was steeped in shadows. Dull lights cast a bluish hue across the metal and white plaster walls, but they did little to dispel the sinister gloom. Sami and Wyatt swept into the room, covering the area with their guns. The space was filled with the deep hum of machinery, and just ahead Sami could see a pair of pale feet stretched out on a gurney. They had put Angel into an MRI scanner, the great bulk of the machine swallowing her whole.

There was movement as they entered, a flash of motion behind a glass panel on the far wall. Sami brought her rifle up, ready to fire, but there was no need. She only caught a glimpse of a figure in a white lab coat as they vanished through another exit. For a second Sami considered pursuing, but she knew it was a foolhardy impulse. There was nothing to be gained from such an action. The enemy was already well aware of their presence, and their intent. Their priority was to escape.

Sami looked back at the machine, and at Angel.

"Let's get her out of there," she said, trying not to let the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat affect her voice.

She lowered her rifle and slid the gurney out of the imaging machine, her expression becoming guarded as she looked the woman over. Angel was slender, blonde, and pretty, in a girlish sort of way. Like Jess, she had been sedated and dressed in a hospital gown. Unlike Jess, however, her hair had not been cut, and a quick check showed no unusual Black Hole equipment attached to her. What that meant, Sami wasn't sure.

A trace of pain showed in her eyes as she appraised the girl. Sami knew that appearances could be deceiving, but to her Angel looked fragile, like a doll. Something that wanted pampering, and would offer vacuous flattery in return. Was that really what Eagle wanted? Sami thought, unable to stop herself. She scowled, hating that the question had even come to her. She couldn't think like that. There could be nothing personal between them, not here and now. Angel was a friendly combatant in need of evacuation, and that was all. She could not be the woman responsible for blowing up Sami's personal life.

"Can you carry her?" Sami asked Wyatt, tearing her gaze away from Angel at last.

"No problem, ma'am."

He slung his rifle over one shoulder and took Angel in his arms. Wyatt may not have been a giant like Blaine, but he was muscular and powerfully built. Carrying a slip of a girl like Angel would pose no problem.

Gunshots rang out from the corridor as they headed back towards the door. Sami raised her rifle and joined Blaine and Drew outside.

"Status?" She demanded.

"Two more hostiles," Blaine said.

Sami followed his eyes down the corridor to the intersection, where she saw the bodies of two more Black Hole soldiers. She allowed herself a few seconds to listen for any other enemies, but heard nothing.

"Let's get out of here," she said.

The group retraced their path through the base, moving as fast as they could. Sami and Drew took the lead as they passed through the still wet section of corridor, the air tinged with the smell of damp smoke. With their comrades encumbered by the Green Earth commanders, they were best equipped to take point, and engage any enemies who crossed their path. Soon the group was back at the door to the medical lab and into shelter once again.

A sudden breach of noise cut through Sami's radio, sharp sounds and an electronic whine coalescing into words. She blinked in surprise.

"Hey, soldier girl, can you hear me?" Lash's voice asked.

Sami's surprise turned to complete amazement. "I read you, Stray Cat. What the hell happened?"

"I dunno, we got cut off or something."

Or something? Sami could scarcely believe how nonchalant Lash was. "But you've fixed the problem?"

A snort came back at her. "Hey, I break stuff, I don't fix it. I don't know what happened. It wasn't working and then it was!"

Sami felt a flicker of apprehension. "So it wasn't you?"

"Nope!"

"And your status?" Sami and her team were almost across the lab now.

"Well… I'm locked out of any critical systems, so it doesn't matter how much you yell at me, I can't do any serious damage."

"I see," Sami said. "We're on our way out now, so any cover you can still give us would be appreciated."

"What kind of cover?"

Sami noted the sudden rise of interest in Lash's voice. "Anything you can do to disrupt the base's operations, any chaos you can cause, do it!"

"Like a game!"

"Right." Sami paused. "Just make sure we win."

She was left with only a fit of devious giggling as her team reached the other side of the lab. Sami threw the door open, only to immediately pull back as another burst of gunfire greeted her. Sami and Drew each darted their heads forwards in turn, assessing the situation and checking for enemies.

"Left side clear," Sami said.

"Three grunts right," Drew added.

Sami nodded. They were in luck. This group was approaching from behind, rather than blocking their escape route. She took another grenade from her belt. They needed to act quickly, and get out before more reinforcements arrived.

"We throw a few grenades, then make a break for the exit," she informed everyone.

More gunfire rang out in the hall. At her signal, Drew leant forward and lobbed a grenade down the corridor, followed a moment later by Sami's own. A few seconds of silence followed, and then all else was drowned out by the roar of the detonation. A fireball erupted in the hallway. Out of sight, but so close they could smell it, could practically feel it.

The force and fury of the explosion soon ebbed. Sami's ears were still ringing, but she was confident that there were no further sounds of gunfire or enemy movement nearby. It was time to move.

Sami broke cover and charged into the corridor, checking the right side for more soldiers while Blaine and Wyatt raced down the hall with Drew covering their left. Everything looked clear. There were no more Black Hole soldiers anywhere within sight, only charred walls and scorch marks. Sami's heart was pounding as her team reached the next junction and turned towards the stairs. It was a different kind of adrenaline to that which she'd felt so far, a potent and heady sensation born of the thrill of knowing just how close they were to success. They were almost home free, but Sami could not let herself give in to hope. Not yet. She forced herself to stay alert, to keep her mind clear.

Sami was the last member of the team to reach the stairwell. She pulled the door shut behind her, wishing she could do more to stop anyone from breaking through after them.

"We're in the access stairs," she reported. "Stray Cat, I'm counting on you to slow down any pursuers. Cruz!" Sami said, cutting off Lash before she could reply. "Are you okay to move?"

"I'll manage," Cruz replied with a forced smile. "Might need a hand with these stairs."

Sami nodded and moved to support Cruz with her shoulder. The others had already started descending the stairs, and together the two of them followed as quickly as they could. Their progress was not swift. With every lurching step Sami could not help but be aware of how much faster the enemy soldiers would be closing in on their position.

They were on the final flight of stairs when Sami heard the sound of footsteps above them.

"They're behind us!" She yelled ahead.

Blaine set Jess down inside the maintenance room and took up a position with Drew, ready to lay down suppressing fire when the enemy caught up with them. Sami and Cruz reached the base of the stairs and limped through the door. They were barely through when their squadmates started shooting, retreating into the maintenance room after them. Blaine lifted a large crate and shoved it against the door, then another. The makeshift barricade would not hold back the enemy for long; hopefully, it would not need to.

"Lash, if you can lock the lower entrance and stop anyone getting through, do it now!" Sami said.

"I'm on it!" Lash replied. "It's a low priority system so I think I should be able to…"

Sami ignored her. She could already hear banging as the enemy soldiers tried to force the door. There was nothing she could do except keep everyone moving, out along the pier to the water's edge. The team moved fast, emerging back into the sunlight to find the world much changed. The sky outside had brightened into the pale blue of a fine, clear morning, and the sight was almost disorientating. It was strange to think that despite all Sami and her team had been through, this was in many respects a day like any other. The sun cared nothing for the struggles of those below, but simply kept to its own rhythm. The world was set in its ways, and it would keep turning regardless of what happened here.

Sami and the others came around the inlet's edge to where their boat was moored. With all haste they wound in the anchor, cut the ropes securing the craft, and made sure the two Green Earth COs were safely stowed aboard. Next they began pushing it out into deeper water. Sami and the others climbed inside and got the engine started, steering the inflatable craft out of the inlet. Almost there.

"This is Red Lioness requesting extraction," Sami called in over the radio. "We're away from the coast and heading north. I'm sending though our position now."

As Sami made the report, Blaine activated a transceiver and sent their exact coordinates to their allies. There was a good chance Black Hole would pick up the signal as well, but that no longer mattered. Any cover they'd enjoyed was long since blown. There was nothing more they could do except sprint towards the finish line, and hope that they reached safety before Black Hole reached them.

The sound of distant gunfire carried across the water to their ears. Sami and the others ducked down, making themselves as small a target as possible. It was a reaction born of instinct. The boat was far enough from shore that their chances of being hit were slim. Sami glanced back towards the inlet, assessing the danger. She could just make out the tiny grey shapes of enemy soldiers against the cliffs. There was little real threat, she decided, not from a few Black Hole grunts with rifles. With every second the boat moved farther from land, and they were soon in no danger at all.

The gunfire faded away to nothing, and in its place Sami could hear the roar of aircraft engines. The sound was faint, but growing rapidly louder. She looked to the skies ahead. Distant specks were drawing closer, orange and green in the perfect blue sky. Their transport, along with an escort of Eagle's jets. Sami felt a rush of elation at the sight.

"Red Lioness, this is Tango One," their pilot's voice came through. "Standby for immediate extraction."

"Copy that, Tango One," Sami said. "We'll be waiting."

Sami's eyes stayed with the helicopter, watching it swell from a dot into a distinct shape as it approached. The Green Earth jets flanking it pulled ahead, ready to engage any would be attacker. They circled the area in formation, watching over their Orange Star allies like a guard of honour. It was then Sami realised that it was over. There was little chance the enemy could wrest control of the skies from Eagle, even if they had been inclined to try. There was nothing that could stop the rendezvous now. Her mission was complete, and it had been a resounding success.

They'd done it.

Chapter Text

The weak perish, and the strong survive.

It was a maxim that he had believed in for most of his life. A simple truth, from which he had learnt all others. To be defeated was to lose everything; of that, he had always been sure. The conclusion that followed was obvious. The only thing that mattered was becoming stronger, and so he had devoted himself to that end with ruthless determination. He had left behind anything that might prove to be a source of weakness, shedding such petty things as conscience or morality. Unfettered he had sought to grow his own power, heedless of the devastation left in his wake. Nothing else mattered. Nothing else existed. He had abjured anything that might lead to his downfall, and, after many trials, claimed leadership of the most fearsome army the world had ever seen. It had taken more than a decade, but he had achieved his goal, secure in his hard-won strength at last.

Or so he had thought. As it turned out, fickle fate had other ideas.

Returning to Brown Nebula had been a decision born of pragmatism, and nothing more. An insignificant choice compared to those that preceded it. In the weeks after the Second Great War concluded, there had been few available options for refuge, and, as always, he had selected the one that best served his own interests. Brown Nebula had been attractive chiefly in that it promised a relatively safe haven, and an opportunity to resupply his troops. That was all. His primary goal had been to consolidate the forces that remained to him, and perhaps start the process of rebuilding the Black Hole Army. Nothing more.

Instead he had found something he did not expect. He had been travelling through the desert with his fellow commanders when, by a curious twist of fate, their path had led him back to the very place where his journey had begun. At first he had dismissed their proximity to his old home as mere coincidence, as an irrelevant curiosity. But, as the days passed, he had been increasingly troubled by a feeling that he could not explain. It gnawed at him like an itch he could neither satisfy nor ignore. He had resisted. He had banished the thoughts from his mind as he had done for so many years, but in the end, the pull to return home had proven too strong. Against his better judgement, he had left camp to visit the village where he had been born.

The memories he had from that place were nothing, truth be told. Only the faintest echo of another life, of a past self so far removed he had almost become a stranger. Still, they had been enough to carve a crack in his heart of stone, and from there, everything he thought he knew had gradually begun to crumble. Doubt, insidious and unwanted, had crept into his mind and tainted every decision. He had done his best to continue on unchanged, but the damage was done. From that moment onwards, the world almost seemed to conspire against him. Matters had culminated months later, when difficult circumstances left him with no choice but to seek out new allies, and fight alongside the Allied Nations. At the time he had justified it as another pragmatic act, but in the company of others he had only found greater cause to question everything he had become.

He stopped walking and closed his eyes. No, he thought, pushing the memories away. That time too was past, and he had no desire to dwell on what was already done. There were more than enough problems to deal with in the present.

He breathed in and opened his eyes, focusing on his surroundings. The night air was hot and dry, the desert heat yet to dissipate. He refused to let the oppressive warmth slow him down as he kept moving through the dusty town. At this evening hour the streets were not crowded, but neither were they empty, and the tall man made sure to avoid contact with anyone who walked near. He would tolerate neither distraction nor delay.

Not far ahead, a large building two storeys high stood overlooking the cracked asphalt road. A flashing neon sign mounted above its double doors proclaimed it as 'The Temple'. The man felt a flicker of cold amusement at the sight. No doubt someone had thought it clever to give the bar such an impious name. Light and music spilled out into the street from its doors and arched windows, while the red brick walls were covered by peeling posters and crudely painted slogans. Near one corner of the building was a discreet stencil of a black scorpion. The man's eyes narrowed slightly as they locked onto the symbol. His source had been correct about that much, if nothing else.

A small bribe to the bouncer let him bypass the line to enter. As he stepped through the double doors, his senses were overpowered by the raucous sounds of the crowd, and the pungent smell of sweat and alcohol. One side of the interior was dominated by an empty stage, while an old television mounted in the far corner cast an uneven light over the dilapidated walls. The man ignored the crowd as he made his way to the bar. He was not here to interact with others. Nor did he have to. Most other patrons gave him a wide berth simply because of his height, and if they did not, his hard gaze was enough to make them reconsider.

Even in worn old clothing he cut an imposing figure. His desert garb was rugged and practical, but unremarkable. Despite his powerful build, any observers would assume he was just another worker, refugee, or mercenary passing through the region. Here in war-torn Brown Nebula, such travellers were a regular sight. The tall man kept his head covered by a dark wrap, even after coming inside. The colour of his hair would attract unwanted attention, and he was in the habit of moving unseen. For almost a year he had lived as a ghost, unknown to the wider world, and he had no intention of changing his ways now.

"What will you have?" The bartender asked, coming over to serve him.

"Water."

That provoked a snort, but the bartender said nothing as he opened a bottle of water and poured out a glass. The tall man did not comment on the display of contempt. There was nothing to gain by doing so.

He picked up the glass and withdrew to a dark corner. From the periphery of the room, he could observe the bar and its occupants without being disturbed. A cursory examination revealed little of interest. He took a mouthful of water and settled in with his back against the wall, deciding that there was nothing to do but wait.

The tall man's attention soon moved to the television, where an international news channel was giving an update on the war between Orange Star and Blue Moon. A presenter in a sharp suit delivered a report while stock footage of tanks advancing and burning buildings played in the background. The tall man showed no emotion as he watched the segment. In that, he was no different to most of the bar's other patrons. Conflict was a simple fact of life in Brown Nebula, and a distant war was not worth thinking about. If anything, there was a certain spiteful glee at seeing the great powers fall back into their old destructive habits. It was proof that for all their arrogance and pretensions, they were no better than those they decried as lawless.

He sipped at his water as he considered the matter. It did not surprise him that the pact known as the Allied Nations had failed to last. There was a great difference between sharing a common enemy and sharing common ground. That, of course, did not necessarily mean that there were no other forces driving the disintegration of the most powerful military alliance in thirty years. The relationship between Orange Star and Blue Moon had collapsed with unusual speed, even when considering their history. Perhaps it was mere coincidence that this new war had broken out while increasing amounts of Black Hole equipment were being used by the desert warlords. Or perhaps it was by design. If there was one thing he had learnt over the past ten years, it was that things were not always what they seemed. Promises turned to dust and sand, masks could conceal all manner of lies, and sometimes, the people who appeared most foolish were the ones who saw most clearly of all.

A flash of unexpected pain swept over the man's stern features, and he set his empty glass aside. It had not been so long ago that he did not drink alone, but with someone he would not have expected. Someone who had offered his friendship freely, and done so without questioning if it was deserved. It was a gift that the tall man had neither anticipated nor desired, and yet receiving it had shaken him more than he could ever have imagined possible.

Jake… I wish I had met you… before.

In the end it had been nothing more than a dream. A fleeting fantasy of the life he had once known, and of the boy he used to be. That was all. Standing there at the end of everything, he had finally come to understand that it was simply too late. It did not matter whether he fought for them or against them, whether he furthered their ends or sought to pursue his own. He was no different to Sturm or Von Bolt. Just another evil. He knew both what he had become and what it had cost him, and did everything in his power to accept it.

And yet, try as he might, he could not keep the doubts from seeping in, no more than he could entirely dispel the memories. They lingered as they had ever since the night when Jake had first offered his hand in friendship, and as they had ever since he set foot in the ruins of his old home that day in the desert almost two years ago. He could not keep from questioning himself, from wondering if the sacrifices, broken promises, and endless carnage had truly been worth it. The suspicion that perhaps he had lost more than he had gained had only grown stronger as the months slipped past. From the doubt festering in his heart something else had sprouted, and he did not know what to do with it.

A murmur ran through the crowd, and the noise level in the bar dropped sharply. The electronic beat of the music continued to play, but all the drunken shouts and loud conversations turned to hushed whispers. The tall man noted the sudden shift and looked towards the entrance, where a new group had just entered the building. In that moment he felt a glimmer of satisfaction. His source had been correct. Tonight was indeed the night.

There were five of them, all armed with either handguns or assault rifles. Four of the men wore a mix of casual clothes and combat gear, and on their left arm, they each bore a well sewn cloth armband emblazoned with the same scorpion emblem that had been painted on the wall outside. They made no attempt to hide that they were militia fighters or insurgents, and it was plain by the bar's reaction that no one would challenge them. In this part of the country, a weapon was the only authority that mattered.

The four armband clad soldiers stood in a protective circle around the last member of the group. The fifth figure displayed no obvious sigil, and his face was completely obscured by a black gas mask. It was impossible to discern anything about his appearance. A large khaki shawl, olive green head wrap, and heavy gloves kept any identifying features well hidden. It was obvious from the way he stood and acted that he was the group's leader. The dread he instilled in the bar was palpable.

Two of the armed men moved ahead to clear a path through the crowd. With the way open, the group swaggered across the bar and disappeared through a door leading to the building's back rooms. As soon as they were out of sight, a hubbub of hushed whispers and nervous chatter broke out amongst the patrons, and, slowly, the raucous noise began to grow once again. Apparently the bar's customers were eager to forget the intrusion, and pretend that all was normal.

The tall man began to move. He kept to the edges of the bar as he made his way towards the stage, doing his best to avoid attracting attention. It only took him a moment to step up onto the low platform and slip backstage, and from there, gain access to the back rooms through a shabby looking door hidden in the shadows.

He came to a hallway on the other side and paused before proceeding any further. He glanced both ways along the hall, but there was no one else in sight. None of the scorpion soldiers were watching this door. They had grown lax in their security, no doubt lulled into complacency by the terror they instilled. That was to his advantage. It would be much easier to accomplish what he needed to if they were unprepared. He moved quickly down the hallway to the back exit, drawing his gun from its concealed holster. He had been told that one guard always kept watch in the alley, and at this point there was no reason to doubt that information.

It all happened in the space of a few seconds. The tall man threw the door open, adjusted his direction as he rushed outside, and struck the guard on the back of the head with his pistol. The soldier crumpled to the ground, a puppet whose strings had been cut. The blow would not incapacitate him for long, but it did not need to. The tall man kicked the soldier's fallen rifle away, sending a faint clatter echoing down the alley. Then he stepped around and aimed his gun squarely at the slumped man's head.

With the squeak of groaning metal the door swung shut as he assumed his new position. It had all gone according to plan. Swiftly and quietly, unnoticed by anyone inside. There was just one more thing left to do.

The guard began to stir. Dazed and disorientated he came to, his eyes fluttering as he fought off the brief bout of unconsciousness. It was not long before he recovered enough to comprehend what was happening. Panic struck and his hands groped blindly for a weapon, only to find the rifle gone. Then the guard saw the gun pointed directly at his head, and he froze completely.

The tall man watched with seeming disinterest as his target realised the situation he was in. Disarmed and prone, there was nothing the scorpion soldier could do. The tall man knew the guard understood that his life was entirely in the hands of another. The fear in his eyes betrayed it.

"Who…" the soldier squinted at him. "Who are you? What do you want?"

"My name is Hawke," he replied, and pulled the trigger.

A single gunshot reverberated through the alley like thunder. The soldier slumped back against the wall, sprayed with blood from the bullet hole in his brow. He was dead.

"And my purpose," Hawke said, "is no longer your concern."

He returned his gun to its holster and knelt down by the body. The sound of gunfire was frequent enough in these parts that he was in little danger of being discovered immediately, but it was unwise to remain here for long. Hawke's face was impassive as he patted down the corpse, systematically searching the man's pockets. There was not much to find. A wallet containing some petty cash, a phone with a cracked screen, and a keycard of a familiar design. Hawke took them all, making sure that the phone was switched off. He intended to dispose of it at the earliest opportunity. He could not risk being tracked. The phone's absence, however, might serve as a useful misdirection. He hoped the dead man's comrades would assume this was merely a robbery, or perhaps the action of a rival warlord, rather than what it really was. Once he was finished searching the body, Hawke moved to the man's left side and began to untie his cloth armband, carefully unwrapping it and placing it in one of his pockets.

Hawke stood. There was nothing else he needed from the dead man, and no reason to linger. A brief check confirmed that the alley was still empty. He was alone again. He moved quickly as he left the scene, stopping only to retrieve the soldier's rifle. The weapon was too conspicuous to keep, but he needed to remove it in order to complete the picture he left behind. With the rifle in hand, Hawke strode towards the dim glow of the nearby street, and he did not look back. His gaze was fixed forward, and his thoughts were all of what came next.

There was still much work to be done.

Chapter Text

In the space of a few days, everything had changed.

The tide of the war had turned. It was not long after Max went north that Blue Moon had seen the weakness in Orange Star's defences, and launched a full offensive to capitalise on it. Until that point, the invasion had been fought along static lines of control. The conflict had been contained to the border regions, and Blue Moon's attempts to break through had proven costly and fruitless. Nell was still in shock at how swiftly their strategy had collapsed. Only a few short days ago Olaf's invasion had been on the verge of failure, but now the advantage had completely shifted. Orange Star's forces along the front were in disarray, many of their units encircled or forced to retreat. It had fallen to Rachel to lead the desperate defence, but her last known position had been overrun thirty hours ago. The troops holding their forward positions were simply gone. There was no way to know whether they were missing, captured, or dead. And with every passing hour, the Blue Moon Army swept further into their territory. It was a total catastrophe. The war was far from lost, but it was rapidly spiralling out of control, and Nell found herself faced with the prospect that from here, things might get a great deal worse.

She looked up from the reports strewn across her desk. She had worked all through the night, and now the glow of morning was seeping through her office. The ordeal had left her exhausted. Necessity had made her numb to her emotions, but the effort required to hold herself together was immense. Sitting there, Nell was struck again by the enormity of it all. How had it come to this?

A sudden chime interrupted her thoughts. Nell's eyes moved to the com panel on her desk, where a small green light indicated that she had an incoming call.

"Go ahead," she said, activating the intercom.

"Commander Max is here with Grit, ma'am," her secretary's voice came through. "What should I tell them?"

Nell closed her eyes, taking a precious few seconds to steel herself. She had been dreading this ever since Max and Grit landed in the capital, and now, the conversation could be delayed no longer. It did not matter how weary she felt, or how difficult it was just to keep from falling apart. There was too much that needed to be said.

Nell took a deep breath and opened her eyes. She had no choice but to deal with this, however hard it might be.

"I'll see Max first," she said, making a conscious effort to keep her voice steady. "Send him in now, please."

"Yes, ma'am."

The green light disappeared, and the connection was broken. Nell barely had time to acknowledge the short exchange before the door swung open, and Max stepped into her office.

There was little of his usual confidence in his bearing. Max's broad shoulders were hunched, and he kept his eyes downcast. Every movement was slow and hesitant, and he was shuffling his feet as if he no longer entirely remembered how to stand. If there had been any lingering doubt in Nell's mind as to whether or not Max understood the full ramifications of his actions, it soon evaporated. This man quailing before her knew exactly what he had done.

Max assumed a position standing in front of her desk and looked up, his eyes full of regret.

"Nell, I –"

As he began to speak, Nell felt a sudden flash of anger, and she did not try to push it away. In fact, the emotion was strangely welcome. Nell took great pride in her professional demeanour, but today she was simply too tired to maintain her composure, and her anger was a source of sorely needed strength.

"Did I give you permission to speak, Commander?" She cut him off.

Max stared at her, shocked, before he managed a quivering shake of his head.

"No," Nell agreed. "So just listen. Now, let's review the situation. You ignored my standing orders. You removed a significant force from our defensive line to go on a wild goose chase. Why? Because you thought it was more important to fight a meaningless battle against a minimal enemy force that posed no significant threat."

Max grimaced. Nell watched him for a second longer, waiting for any further reaction, but it did not come. With a short breath she continued.

"As a result, our defences were critically compromised. When Blue Moon realised that, they launched a full offensive and overwhelmed our positions. We've taken heavy casualties and lost significant amounts of territory, all because you wanted to go after Grit. Have I left anything out?"

He swallowed. "No ma'am."

"You disobeyed orders and seriously undermined the defence of our country," Nell summarised. "I don't think I need to explain just how bad this is, Max. There will be consequences, and I won't be able to protect you this time."

He shook his head again, helplessness showing on his broad features. "I didn't mean for this to happen, Nell. I just… I didn't think…"

"No, you didn't think!" Nell snapped. She could barely stand to look at Max, and somehow, seeing his remorse was only making it worse. "That's the problem."

"So what happens now?"

"There will be a hearing into your conduct. What happens after that is for a board of inquiry to decide. You could be suspended, demoted, perhaps even discharged." Nell glanced briefly away. "However, as things currently are, Orange Star can't afford to lose any more commanding officers. Whatever happens, it won't be decided until after this conflict is over."

Assuming we survive it, a particularly cynical part of her added.

"Right," Max said, still watching her like a spooked animal. "And what about Rachel? Has there been any news?"

Nell's heart froze at the mention of Rachel's name. For a split second she was overwhelmed by fear. She could not even move, let alone think of what to say. Nothing had prepared her for this, or terrified her as much as the thought that her little sister might have been killed. There was no one in the world Nell was closer to than Rachel. After the death of their parents, they had been each other's family, the only family they had left. Having to confront the very real possibility that she had lost Rachel as well was far worse than anything Nell had ever faced before.

"No," she finally managed to say, her voice shaking slightly. "There's still nothing."

Max's gaze turned downcast. Nell could not help but wonder if he was more scared for Rachel, or ashamed of what he had done.

"We gotta do something," he blurted out.

"I think you've done quite enough already," Nell said coldly.

"We can't just leave Rachel. We need her –"

"Enough!"

Nell lifted her pointer and slammed it down on the desk with a bang. Max flinched at the sound.

"Until we know more, there's nothing else to say on the matter."

She spoke clearly and concisely. Her voice was so terse it was almost on the verge of breaking, and it was a struggle just to get the words out. Couldn't Max see how much it was hurting her to even think about Rachel? She couldn't talk about this. It was too soon, too overwhelming. Too many things she could not bear to deal with. She needed this conversation to end.

"That will be all, Max."

"Nell, I –"

"Dismissed!"

There was silence. Max could only stare at her, frozen in place. Nell knew she had spoken harshly, but she had no sympathy for him. Not today. It took every shred of strength she could muster to maintain any control, and there was no room left for anything else. She only glared straight back at Max, staring him down until, cowed, he bowed his head and hastened from her office.

Once he was gone, Nell closed her eyes and exhaled, long and slow. At least the worst part was over.

It was all such a wretched mess. Max was the most reliable friend she'd ever had, and he'd thrown it all away for a reckless moment of vengeance. He had compromised Orange Star's entire defensive strategy, and let Blue Moon break through into the heart of their country. How many lives would be lost because of a single mistake? Before this turn of events, Nell had firmly believed that they could hold back the invasion, but now the future was far more uncertain.

She leant back in her chair and sighed again. They could still defeat Blue Moon. Nell had barely slept since the news reached her; all her hours had been devoted to enacting emergency plans, and shoring up their positions. She was confident that the new defensive line, drawn deeper in Orange Star territory, could hold. That was not what most concerned her. The problems with their new strategy were less immediate. First, most of their reserves were committed now. There was little left with which to answer any other threat, and with Black Hole still out there in some unknown capacity, that was a dangerous position to be in. The second problem was even more long term. Keeping enemy forces out of their country was one thing, and expelling them from occupied territory was another matter entirely. Once Blue Moon's troops were entrenched, they would be far more difficult to remove; experience had taught Nell that once Blue Moon took control of a region, they would not give it up easily. Any hope that Olaf would soon deplete his army's strength and be forced to negotiate a truce or ceasefire had been extinguished. She could no longer see a way to resolve this conflict swiftly, or without great cost. They were in for a long and gruelling war.

It was almost too much to bear. Nell had grown used to shouldering heavy burdens in the past few years, and for the most part, she did so without complaint. She had always held the conviction that what was right needed to be fought for, no matter how hard it might be, and she still believed that with all her heart. Even now, after what had just happened. After Rachel.

A faint look of grief came over Nell. It had been thirty hours since they lost contact with Rachel, and still her mind had barely processed this new reality. Rachel was gone, and Nell didn't even know if her little sister was alive or dead.

Once again she set the terrible worry aside and focused on the present. No matter how she felt, there was more to be done. Her duty had to come first. With that thought in the forefront of her mind Nell straightened up, and with a press of her finger activated the com panel again.

"Have Commander Grit sent in now, please."

As she waited, Nell could not keep from running a hand through her long blonde locks. Her hair, usually perfect, had grown distinctly unkempt over the past few days. She wasn't even wearing her hat or purple suit jacket. A resigned look crossed her lips. There was little she could do about such things now, and besides, it hardly mattered. Grit had never been one to put much stock in appearances.

The sound of slow footsteps reached Nell's ears. Soon after her office door swung open, and standing there was Grit.

"Howdy, Nell," he said.

"Howdy," she repeated, one eyebrow raised. "Is that all you have to say for yourself?"

"Well, it ain't much, but I reckon it's a start."

Grit took off his hat and set it aside as he sat down opposite her, spreading his coat out so it was draped over the back of the chair. Nell could not keep from marvelling at the way he ambled in. There were dark rings under Grit's eyes, and he looked thin and stressed, but on the whole, he appeared remarkably at ease.

"Why did you come back here?" She asked.

It was a blunt question, but she was too tired to do anything but get straight to the point.

He flashed her a well meaning smirk. "Well now, Max didn't exactly leave me much choice in the matter."

An unimpressed twitch crossed Nell's lips. She had spent more than enough time with Grit to recognise when he was deflecting, and that he would try to do so now was galling. It wasn't in Grit's nature to open up easily, but these were hardly normal circumstances, and Nell no longer had the patience to accommodate his quirks.

"I think we both know that you could have found a way to avoid coming home, if you'd wanted to," she observed, her voice cool. "How did you put it? You go where you want to go, and stay where you want to stay."

Grit's brow creased slightly. "You remember that?"

"Of course I do," Nell said, almost taken aback.

It was only then she realised that he did not know how much that answer had meant to her, meagre though it had been. Nell exhaled and sank back into the soft leather of her office chair.

"You do understand how serious this is, don't you?" She asked. "After you left Orange Star, you were tried in absentia by a military court. You were found guilty of treason, which means I have no choice but to place you under arrest."

He forced a melancholy chuckle. "I didn't much think those boys with guns following me 'round were lookin' out for my health."

Nell could only stare at him, shocked at how obstinate he was being. Did he not understand what that meant? Her disapproval must have shown, for any mischief quickly dropped from Grit's bearing, leaving behind only a man who looked every bit as exhausted as she was.

"Grit, this is no laughing matter! You betrayed Orange Star, and as for what happens next…" she faltered. "You could spend the rest of your life in prison. You could even be executed. So I'll ask you again: why did you come back?"

"I didn't have much choice."

"Because of Max?"

"No."

Grit's nonchalant veneer was completely gone now, and there was a bitterness and hurt in his eyes that Nell had not seen for a long time. She felt a flicker of eerie anticipation. Now they were getting closer to the truth.

"I ain't welcome in Blue Moon any more, Nell," Grit said. "The more I say, the less those folks listen. It was only a matter of time before I was dismissed from the army, shuffled off to some out of the way place, and forgotten about, if not somethin' much worse."

Nell frowned. "So that's it? Blue Moon didn't suit you any more, so you decided to just pick up and leave again?"

"Now hold up." Shame showed in Grit's eyes, before he looked away. "That's not what I meant. I came back because it was time."

"I don't understand."

"It's hard to explain." He pursed his lips, still unwilling to meet her gaze. "I've been watching my life in Blue Moon fall apart faster'n you can believe, and it's got me thinking about some of the choices I've made, and how I ended up here."

Nell said nothing. Grit had her full attention, but as yet he had given her little she could reply to. If Grit wanted any kind of meaningful response, he would first need to give her more than these vague allusions to past regrets, if regret was even what Grit was trying to express. He needed to show her something real, something concrete.

After a short silence he made a strange grunt as if to summon his courage, and went on.

"There are some things I've been meanin' to tell you for a while now. I just never had the chance. With all this goin' on, I was starting to think I never would, and I didn't much like that idea."

Nell felt a strange flutter run through her heart, and it was all she could do to prevent it from showing in her expression. Grit had still not told her much, but he had given her enough to set her imagination racing with the possibilities.

For a moment she could only wonder at herself. Even after all that had happened, all the time, distance, and difficult choices, the warmth of her feeling for Grit hadn't changed. She had forgotten, almost, what it was like to be this close to him. They had barely spoken since Grit left Orange Star, and when they had, it had usually been as part of a council of war. Never alone. They had not been alone together in over five years.

"What things, Grit?" She asked, her heartbeat rising. "What do you want to tell me?"

"That I'm sorry for leavin' without a word the way I did. It wasn't fair on you, on Maxie, on anyone." He paused. "It was a mistake, and I'm sorry."

"Why did you leave?"

The words were out before Nell could stop herself.

Grit looked her straight in the eye. "Do I really have to say it?"

"Alright, I'll rephrase. Why did you think leaving like that would help?"

He winced. "I just didn't want anyone to get hurt, y'know? But I couldn't see any way to avoid it, and then after the accident… seein' you like that in the hospital…" he let out a sigh. "Well, it sure felt like I was just making everything worse, so I figured the best thing was for me to saddle up and disappear."

She stared at him in amazement. "And it never occurred to you that disappearing the way you did would only hurt us all the more?"

Grit turned away, just for a moment. When he looked back at her, there were tears welling in his eyes.

"I was a fool, Nell, and I ain't too big to admit it. I couldn't see the forest for the trees, and I'm sorry."

Nell knew he was telling the truth. She could see it in the hurt and shame writ across Grit's face, and in the tears glimmering faintly in his eyes. So why couldn't she simply accept this explanation? It was as if all the old pain had risen up to the surface, and with it came the same question, playing over and over in her mind: why? Why had he gone? There had been little time to contemplate such things after Grit left Orange Star, and the whole world had been turned upside down. Nell had spent more than a few nights lying awake and trying to make sense of it all, before duty had compelled her to set her feelings aside. Now, faced with the chance to find some answers at last, she found herself consumed by a desperate need to know. Why?

"That was really all it was?" Nell asked at last. She was almost scared of what the answer might be.

"I got all caught up in my own head, and I…" Grit paused, visibly struggling to find the right words. "I managed to convince myself that y'all would be better off without me, that all I'd do is hurt you. You know I've never been much good at staying close to anyone. I've always been better at keepin' my distance. I ain't saying it's right, but it's what I was thinking."

Nell considered that. "It sounds to me like you were afraid."

"Of hurtin' you?" Grit offered up the saddest smile Nell had ever seen. "Always."

It sounded so simple when it was said aloud. Not the great revelation she might have hoped for, but simply the story of a man who had fallen prey to his own doubts and fears. That was all it took to change the course of history.

"Oh, Grit," Nell sighed.

Her hand went to one of the large drawers in her desk and pulled it open. Inside sat a bottle of brandy and two shot glasses. She lifted them out and sat the glasses on the desk.

Grit's eyebrows raised. "Well, I wasn't expecting that."

"It's been a rough few days," Nell said with a small laugh.

She poured out one measure of brandy for herself, and another for Grit. He took his glass and raised it high. Nell matched the movement and let their glasses clink together in a quiet little toast.

"To being honest with each other," she said. 

"Reckon I'll drink to that," Grit murmured.

It was only a small thing, but Nell found the ritual strangely comforting as she downed her drink in a single swallow.

"It's funny," Grit said after he drank his brandy. "I was just startin' to think that Blue Moon felt like home, and maybe I could settle down there. Then all this happens." A trace of bitterness showed in his eyes. "I guess that life just ain't for me."

"I don't believe that. You deserve a home, Grit."

"Maybe."

He gave a curt shrug and looked away again, and Nell knew better than to press the subject.

"So what'll happen to me now?"

"I have to take you into custody until a final decision is made," she said. "A lot's happened since your conviction, and I'm sure the government can be convinced to review the matter."

Concern bloomed in Grit's eyes. "Don't go to too much trouble on my account, darlin'. You need to be taking care of yourself now, y'hear?"

"Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. And I will do what I can to help you." Nell paused, thinking. "What would you do next, if you were given the choice?"

"Can't say I've given that much thought, seeing as I ain't the one holdin' the reins."

Nell accepted that with a small nod, taking his empty glass and sitting it next to her own. "It's something you might want to think about. If you're willing to cooperate with us and provide intel on Blue Moon, that could make a big difference. After all, you probably know more about them than anyone in Orange Star."

The corner of Grit's lip twitched, the barest hint of amusement making itself known. "You want me to sing for my supper, is that it?"

"Something like that."

Grit put a hand to his head and ruffled his hair. "Well, if there's any way I can help end this foolish war, I reckon that's what I'll do." He went quiet for a time. "Still seems mad to me, this mess we're in. I can't help but wonder if it had all been just a little different, if Lash had never joined up with us in Omega Land, then maybe…"

"Maybe we wouldn't have ended up here?" Nell finished.

Grit managed an almost playful smile. "Something like that," he echoed. With a shake of his head the smile faded. "At least that one's locked up safe and sound where she can't do no harm."

Nell felt a faint shiver and glanced away. She said nothing; she did not trust herself to lie well enough, especially not to Grit. As it turned out, her silence made no difference. Grit's expression shifted first to dawning realisation, then became exasperated.

"Oh, Nellie. You let her out."

"It's not quite that simple," she said.

"Isn't it?" Grit asked, his tone cynical. "Trust me, darlin'. A nice, cozy cell is the best place for Lash."

Nell looked at him with mild surprise. "I never thought you were the type to hold a grudge, Grit."

"This ain't about grudges," he exclaimed. "If you'd seen the things I've seen, if you knew what the little lady is capable of –" He broke off. "That one's dangerous, Nell."

"You think I don't know that?" She asked. Her tone was sharper than she'd intended, but she was too tired to hold back. "I'm quite aware of everything that Lash has done."

Grit rubbed his forehead. "I know. I didn't mean…"

"Letting her out of Thornfield wasn't a choice we made lightly. Truth be told, it was an act of desperation. There was a mission that we needed to succeed, and it wouldn't have been possible without Lash's help."

She stopped speaking and stood up, seized by a sudden impulse. Grit looked up at her with faint alarm as she retrieved her suit jacket and pulled it on. Nell did not put her garrison cap back on, and nor did she button up her jacket, leaving her white shirt showing underneath.

"Come with me."

 Grit got to his feet and followed her, unable to entirely hide his apprehension.

"You mind tellin' me where we're going?" He asked as they left her office.

"Not far," she replied.

She nodded to the soldiers standing guard outside. They fell in behind Nell and Grit as the two of them walked through the military headquarters, heading towards the lifts. Nell felt a faint twinge of regret that a man who had once walked these halls with her as a trusted companion required such an escort, but she knew there was simply no other way. They had all made choices, and there was nothing to be done except face the consequences.

A quiet beep announced the arrival of the lift. Nell, Grit, and the guards crammed themselves into the small space. Grit cast a wry glance at the assault rifles pointed towards the floor, and Nell barely managed to suppress a smile as she watched his expression change. It was strange to be so close to him and yet so feel far away, standing in a cramped lift with a pair of armed chaperones. Nell found herself astonished at the absurdity of it all. Who would ever have thought that they would end up here, in this strange piece of theatre they had written for themselves?

The descent was spent in silence. The lift came to a stop, and without hesitation Nell kept moving. They had arrived on the lowest floor of the building, where the walls were bare and grey. Security cameras covered each room and hallway, and there were armed guards watching every entrance. There would not normally have been so many personnel posted to this level of headquarters, but in recent days it had played host to a very important guest, and additional security measures had become a simple necessity.

Nell led the group to an unassuming black door and came to a halt.

"Wait here," she advised their escorts. "Grit and I will be just inside."

She and Grit stepped through into a small observation room, where Nell assumed a position looking through a two-way mirror. Grit came over and stood beside her, peering through the window with a wary shadow in his eyes. An audible intake of breath passed his lips as he saw who was waiting on the other side of the glass.

There was no one in the interrogation room except for Lash, who sat cross-legged on the floor with a jumbled mess of files and papers arrayed on the carpet around her. She wore a plain grey tracksuit emblazoned with the symbol of Orange Star's military academy, and her wild hair was pulled back in a tight ponytail. She little resembled the Lash who Grit had faced in battle. Far from a fierce mastermind or a menacing commander, the girl before them appeared small, plain, and pale. Ordinary, almost.

As they watched, Lash was overcome by a look of intense frustration. For a few seconds she stared at the open file on the floor in front of her, before with a shriek she began tossing pages up in the air.

"You've got that one doin' paperwork," Grit stated flatly.

"We couldn't risk giving her access to a computer."

He considered that for a moment, and then began to chuckle. "Y'know, I reckon that's the first thing you've said 'bout Lash I don't disagree with."

"Come on," Nell said, gesturing towards a door leading into the interrogation room. "It's about time I checked on her."

Before Grit had a chance to object, Nell opened the door and walked through. Lash's gaze flicked upwards as she entered.

"Hey, I haven't –"

She broke off as she saw Grit, her eyes going wide. Then she let out a squeal of terror and promptly dived under the desk behind her.

"There's nothing to be afraid of, Lash," Nell reassured her. "Everything's all right."

Lash poked her head out and peered up at them with wide eyes. "You're… you're not sending me to Blue Moon?"

Nell glanced at Grit. "No. Grit is a guest of Orange Star, just like you."

"Oh." Lash came scrambling out from under the table. "Duh, I knew that! You wouldn't have the guts to hand me over to that old geezer."

Grit regarded Lash with a cautious eye. "I see all this hasn't made you any more humble, then."

"Humble?" Lash screwed her face up in revulsion. "What, like I should pretend I'm not as smart as I am?"

"That ain't it," Grit replied, his voice icy. "It ain't about pretendin'. But you might carry your smarts a little better, and own up to the fact you make mistakes just like the rest of us."

Lash scowled. "What mistakes?"

Grit laughed in disbelief. "Look around, princess. Seems to me your life choices haven't worked out too well, have they now? And that ain't even mentioning what you did to old man Olaf's hometown. This mess we're in? How much of that is on your head?"

Lash looked down at the floor and muttered something under her breath. Nell found herself unsure how Lash would respond. To date, she had rarely reacted well when faced with the consequences of her past. Bringing Grit to see her was a risk. There was no denying that, but Nell had decided it was necessary. She wanted to gauge for herself how much Lash could be relied upon, and that meant knowing how she would handle uncomfortable situations. The world beyond these walls would be far more confronting than a simple conversation with Grit, and if Lash couldn't handle even this much stress, Nell needed to know it sooner rather than later.

She tossed her hair back over one shoulder. "Have you found anything, Lash?"

Lash did not immediately reply. Instead her eyes continued to dance over the mess of papers for a few lingering seconds, a frown growing on her lips.

"There was one thing," she said. "You know how communications cut out during the mission?"

Nell nodded once.

"Well, just before it happened, we picked up some funny readings in parts of the radio spectrum."

Lash scrabbled around, looking for something. Soon she found a specific print out and tapped it with enough force to crease the paper.

"See?"

Nell knelt down and retrieved the sheet of paper, but the analysis of radio signals and electromagnetic bands meant nothing to her.

"What am I looking at here?"

"There was this series of weird blips before all your communications went dead. It's easy to miss because it only shows up in the background noise. But guess what? The same thing happened before Black Hole attacked Green Earth! Some of the last signals those twerps picked up show the same pattern."

"Which certainly suggests that Black Hole was jamming us during Operation Starfall," Nell concluded. "But if that's true, why did the interference stop? The blackout only lasted a few minutes. When they attacked Green Earth, communications were down for over a day."

Lash shrugged. "I dunno. Maybe something broke."

Nell frowned. She did not consider that a satisfying explanation. New technologies could be temperamental and unreliable, but that was not an assumption they could afford to make, not in light of this evidence. If Black Hole could disrupt communications whenever they wished, then it was all the more urgent to understand how they were doing so, and develop countermeasures.

She sighed and made a mental note to pass the discovery on to their research teams. It was not a question she could answer here and now.

"And the rest of it?" Nell asked. "What do you make of all this?"

Lash did not even bother to look up at her. "What do I make of all what?"

"Black Hole's new army, and where it came from."

"How should I know where it came from?" Lash snapped. "I didn't do it!"

"You're the one who developed most of Black Hole's new weapons," Nell pointed out, "and you oversaw their rejuvenation in Omega Land. I think it's fair to say you know a great deal about how Black Hole builds their armies."

Lash's pouty lips began to twitch. For several seconds she could not entirely keep a gratified smile from showing, before with forced seriousness she wiped it away. Nell took that as an opening and continued.

"So far as we can tell, this threat seems to have originated in the Macro Land conflict, rather than Omega Land. Is it possible that someone started building this army during the Second Great War?"

"How?" Lash demanded. "After you jerks beat us, we had nothing. It's how that wheezy old windbag Von Bolt got his foot in the door. He had money, and we needed a way to rebuild. I came up with the Black Crystals, but without that we didn't have an army." She stared at Nell. "Don't you get it? There was nothing left!"

"Are you sure about that? Couldn't we be dealing with some kind of reserve force or contingency plan devised by Sturm?"

Lash shook her head violently. "Sturm didn't make backup plans. Not like that. When we lost, his plan was just to blow everything up." She clapped her hands together. "Boom!"

She dissolved into a fit of manic giggling. Meanwhile Nell and Grit exchanged an uneasy glance. It was remarkable, in a terrifying and twisted sort of way, how nonchalant Lash could be at the thought of total Armageddon.

"So where do you think this Black Hole army came from, then?" Nell asked.

Lash froze. Then she started tossing files around again.

"I don't know. It doesn't make sense! It's stupid and annoying and I hate it!"

Nell made sure to offer Lash a reassuring smile. "Don't be too hard on yourself. We haven't been able to come up with any answers either. Keep looking, and let me know if you find anything else that might help."

"Let you know how?" Lash shot back. "You won't even give me a phone!"

Nell raised one eyebrow and met Lash's gaze, unmoved.

"What?" Lash asked. "It's not like I'd take it apart and use the pieces to build a bomb. I totally could. But I won't."

"How nice of you," Nell commented.

"Boo!" Lash stuck her tongue out. "Have it your way! But if I don't get a phone, then I want pizza!"

"Pizza," Nell repeated. "Very well. I'll see what I can do. And if there's anything else – anything important – you can ask one of the guards to contact me."

She turned back towards the door, and with a tilt of her head gestured for Grit to follow. He had fallen silent towards the end of her conversation with Lash, and now Nell saw that a distant light had crept into his sharp eyes. He followed her back out into the hallway, and, once the door to Lash's room was closed, leant back against the wall, stunned.

"This is real, ain't it?" He asked in a quiet voice. "Black Hole is back."

"How much did Max tell you?" Nell asked.

"Some. We weren't exactly talkin' much."

"I see," she said. "Well, to answer your question… yes. They're back, and it's bad. We still don't know the full extent of it, or how it's even possible, but it's clear that the threat from Black Hole was never truly over. Whatever is happening now, it's been building for some time." She paused. "How much does Blue Moon know?"

Grit started to shake his head slowly, staring straight ahead with despair in his eyes. "Honestly? I got no idea. Those folks are acting like everything's hunky dory. I don't know if they're aware of the truth and just pretendin' otherwise, if they actually believe their own lies, or if they're just that damn blind."

Nell had already suspected something like that was the case based on Blue Moon's official statements, but it was still deeply troubling to hear Grit's read of the situation. There was little chance they could reason with a country so deep in denial. Again faced with the prospect of a long and difficult war, Nell glanced away. All her eyes found was a clock at the end of the hall.

"I'm late for my next appointment," she realised.

Grit forced a tired smile. "Reckon I shouldn't keep you, then."

Nell beckoned his guards forward. Grit was right; she could stay here no longer.

"Escort Commander Grit to a holding cell," she ordered them, before turning back to Grit. "I'm afraid I'll have to keep you there until we decide what we're going to do with you."

"I understand. Whatever happens, I understand."

Nell felt a flash of fear. She didn't want to lose him, not again, but there was only so much she could do to prevent it. She had every intention of making a recommendation to her superiors on Grit's behalf, but the final decision rested with the President's office. Before the feeling could grow too strong she forced it down, back into the deepest part of her heart, safe and secret. Nell knew she could not give into her emotions, not now. Her duty had to come first. She was unable to keep from wondering at herself as those words played in her mind again. How many times had she repeated that same mantra since hearing the news that Rachel's position had been overrun? It was all she had to hold on to, all she could do to try and cope.

"Least I'll have plenty of time to relax and catch a bit of shut-eye," Grit remarked.

He was still forcing himself to hold a smile, and Nell wasn't sure what he was trying to prove. Was it an attempt to be brave in the face of an uncertain fate? She could no longer tell.

"I'll see about bringing you some reading material," she said. "It'll be at least a few days before a verdict is reached. The least we can do in the meantime is bring you up to speed on everything that's happened."

Grit cast a glance at the guards as they brushed against his shoulders. "Now there's somethin' to look forward to."

He paused, and for a second his smile slipped. Once again Nell saw that deep sadness in his eyes, and she felt her heart catch.

"You be sure to look after yourself, now."

"I will," Nell said. "We'll talk again, Grit. I promise."

She nodded to the guards, and Grit was led away. She watched him walk down the length of the hall until he was lost to sight. It was all so surreal. And it was cruel to be reunited with him after all this time, but to still feel as though all she could do was say goodbye. Grit had let down more of his guard today than he ever had before, and yet in some ways the distance between them was greater than ever. He had come home, and as a result, the consequences of all they had chosen might see them separated again. Perhaps for good this time.

Nell put a hand to her brow. Whatever happened, whatever became of Grit, or Rachel, she had to keep going. There was too much work to be done. All she could do was change what was within her power to change. As for the rest? There was nothing left but to try and find some acceptance, and let it go. After all, Nell knew that for the most part, the fates of perhaps the two people she cared about most were simply beyond her control.

Chapter Text

It was one of the worst days of Max's life.

He'd known this was coming. Ever since he awoke in the small hours of the morning, Max had been living under the suffocating haze of his own trepidation, and it was no mystery why. After the turn the war with Blue Moon had taken, he had been fully aware that his next conversation with Nell would not be easy, and braced himself for it as best he could.

His efforts had made little difference. The moment he stepped into Nell's office, Max had realised just how furious she was with him, and he knew her anger was justified. That only became more and more clear as Max stood at attention, listening while she went over what he had done in exacting detail. Max had tried to explain, to defend himself as he so desperately wanted to, but in vain. The scale of his lapse in judgement was beyond dispute, and he could not find the words to articulate anything he meant to. Not here, trapped in Nell's office as the morning sun glared at him through bulletproof glass, and trapped beneath the crushing weight of his own guilt, beneath the sickening knowledge of what he had done. He had been so focused on Grit, on Blue Moon, on everyone else, and that had been his mistake. He'd been looking for someone to blame, someone to punish, but now he knew better. Now, his thoughts ran in a different direction entirely.

It was all his fault. That was the only idea that made sense any more.

A sharp crack cut through the office. Max flinched, startled by the sound. It took him a second more to realise that Nell had slammed her pointer down on the desk.

"Until we know more, there's nothing else to say on the matter."

Nell's voice was so tense and controlled. Max had never seen her like this before; he had never even imagined she could be this angry. She was always calm and understanding, willing to offer assistance and work through any problem when needed. As much as anything else, that spoke to the severity of his transgressions.

"That will be all, Max."

"Nell, I –"

"Dismissed!"

Max was stunned. Nell was staring him down with steely composure, all the intimidating force of a superior officer brought to bear against him. It was clear she would tolerate no further disobedience. Max wanted to say something, anything, but no words would come. He was paralysed, frozen by the terrible fear that he had irreparably damaged one of his oldest friendships. Had he lost Nell as well? The thought was more than Max could bear. He did not know what to say or what to do, and so, desperate to get away from this horrible feeling, he bowed his head and hastened from her office.

He strode quickly across the reception area outside, stopping only when he came to a stretch of bare wall. It was a struggle just to stay upright. Once again, he felt as though the ground had fallen away from under his feet. Max put a hand against the wall to steady himself. Panic was coursing through him with every heartbeat, the harbinger of a growing disgust. Max screwed his eyes shut. He couldn't even face what he'd done, or try to make Nell understand. Instead he'd fled from her office like a coward. Perhaps that was all he was, a coward and a clumsy fool. He'd been faced with a complex situation, one that called for a measured response, and what had he done? Gone charging off like a maddened bull, leaving a trail of ruin in his wake. He'd accomplished nothing except to trigger a disaster of frightening magnitude, and it was his friends who were suffering for it.

"You okay, Maxie?"

Max jumped at the sound of Grit's voice. He was standing just nearby, two armed escorts waiting a short distance behind. Grit's head was tilted to one side, and there was a look of genuine concern on his narrow face. Max took a deep breath. He'd almost forgotten that Grit had accompanied him to see Nell. It seemed like hours ago that they had arrived at headquarters, even though it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes.

"I've been better," Max muttered.

He cast his gaze downward, desperate to avoid looking Grit in the eye. It only made him feel worse to see how much his friend still cared, even after what had just passed between them. It was unbearable. In such a short space of time, he'd done so much harm to so many people he cared about. How could he ever make any of this right?

"Gave you a right talkin' to, did she?" Grit made a glum face. "Well, I reckon it'll be my turn next. Can't imagine Nell's too happy with me these days."

Max shook his head a little. "Whatever she has to say to you, it can't be as bad as what I just heard. Trust me."

"Give it time, Maxie," Grit said. "She'll come around. Just give it time."

Grit's words were little comfort. Max knew full well that the mess he'd created would not necessarily get better with time. On the contrary, there was a good chance the situation would get a great deal worse.

Unbidden Max thought of Rachel and shivered. They had been working together so closely since the end of the Omega War that he still half expected to turn around and see her smiling face, or hear her voice just around the corner. What if Rachel wasn't just missing? With the thought came a wave of overwhelming despair. If she was dead – if his stupid, stupid mistake had gotten her killed – Nell would never forgive him, and she'd be right not to. If Rachel died as a result of his foolish actions, Max knew he would never forgive himself.

Without warning Grit clicked his fingers. "I almost forgot. Got something I'm s'posed to give you."

Max stared at him, baffled. "What?"

Grit reached inside his coat. The soldiers raised their weapons and stepped around to stop him, prompting a wry glance in reply.

"You fellas know I ain't armed," Grit said. "I've been searched more times than I can count on both hands since enterin' into the fine custody of Orange Star."

The lead soldier gave him an unimpressed look. "Whatever you've got in there, just bring it out slowly."

Grit rolled his eyes. "Whatever you say, boss."

Max watched as Grit withdrew a small envelope from his inner coat pocket and held it up in the air. The soldier looked it over, prodding the paper with the barrel of his gun. After a moment he turned to Max and nodded once.

"All clear, sir."

Max reached out and took the envelope. It was made from some kind of thick, fine quality paper, and his name was written on the front in a cursive hand. Whatever this was, it didn't look like any kind of official document. Max would hardly have expected Grit to smuggle state secrets out of Blue Moon, but he had no clue what else the envelope could contain.

"What is it?" He asked, frowning.

"It's a letter," Grit replied. "You remember how to read, don't you? I know you always found them big words mighty hard to figure out."

"Funny," Max said in a sour voice.

Grit smirked. Max ignored his obvious amusement, flipping the letter around in his hands as he wondered just what this was all about. He was still studying the elegant handwriting when Nell's secretary looked towards them.

"Commander Grit?" She called out. "The Commander-in-Chief will see you now."

"Looks like it's my turn," Grit said to Max. "You take care of yourself, y'hear?"

"Yeah." Max hesitated, stung by another spark of regret that he had ever been so angry with Grit. "Yeah, you too."

Grit ambled through the reception area and into Nell's office, leaving Max alone with the mysterious letter. Part of him was tempted to rip it open then and there, but he soon thought better. He had no idea what it contained, and Max couldn't help but think that he might want to read it somewhere a little more private.

He took a deep breath to steady himself and started walking down the nearest hallway. Nell's office was located on one of the building's middle floors rather than the top, but it was one of the most comfortably furnished levels in the entire headquarters. In addition to several other offices and a large conference room, it contained a kitchen, a lounge, and even a sleeping area. As such there were relatively few permanent staff working nearby, and Max had no trouble finding a place to open the letter without being disturbed. The dining area was perfect. At this time of morning it was completely empty, and its proximity to the kitchen didn't hurt, either.

Max sat down at one of the round black tables and examined the letter again. He didn't recognise the handwriting on the envelope, but he knew it didn't belong to Grit. His old friend wrote in an untidy scrawl, not this perfect, precise hand. But if not Grit, then whose writing could it be? Max did not ponder the question for long before growing annoyed with himself. He was sitting here analysing the handwriting on the envelope rather than simply opening the letter. That was the obvious way to find out who it was from and what this was about, and yet he found himself hesitating. Max's brow furrowed. What was he so afraid of? It was only a letter, after all.

Forcing himself to act, Max tore the envelope open and pulled out a neatly folded piece of paper. With a final flicker of apprehension, he flattened out the letter and looked it over. The first thing he checked was the signature at the bottom. Sasha's signature. The letter was from Sasha. Max suddenly remembered the last time they had spoken. It had completely slipped his mind; so much had happened in the weeks since that the confrontation on the bridge felt like something from another life, like something that had happened to somebody else. Max felt another surge of disgust, and folded the letter shut before he could read anything more. He'd been so mad with Sasha, with both of them, and it had coloured everything he said. At the time Max had felt so justified in his fury, but it had only clouded his better judgement. All he'd done was compromise Orange Star's defences, and hurt the people he cared about most. Small wonder Sasha felt the need to send her letter. No doubt she too could see him for the stupid fool he really was.

It was at that point Max found himself seriously considering leaving the letter unread. He wasn't sure if he could bear to have anyone else point out his mistakes in savage detail, not after his reprimanding from Nell, but the indecision did not last. He'd made his choices, and now there was nothing he could do except own up to the bitter consequences.

Max inhaled, unfolded the letter again, and began reading.

Dear Max,

I write this letter in the hope of clearing the air between us. I want you to know that I bear you no ill will for what was said prior to the war. These are difficult times, and you have every right to be upset. I truly wish things could be different, and I must stress that none of this was of my choosing. I hope you can understand why I remain at my post, even though I wish we were still allies. My country and my family mean a great deal to me, and I cannot abandon them. Nevertheless, perhaps I could have done more to prevent this war from happening. I do not know.

Lately I find myself thinking of our campaign in Omega Land. The time I spent there made me both a better commander, and a better person. My life before then was solitary. I believed that to be open with others was to be vulnerable, that it was a sign of weakness to let one's feelings show. I never knew true friendship before I met you, Rachel, and Jake, and in spite of all that has happened, I dearly hope that I have not lost that permanently.

I write this not because I seek your sympathy, or your pity, but because I know I have been too aloof with those I care about. Jake once told me that trust is what matters most between friends. I fear I have proven unworthy of the kindness and trust he showed me.

So I write honestly and frankly to you in the hope it might rectify my mistakes, at least in some small part. If nothing else, please know that it was never my intention to hurt you, Rachel, or Jake. All I can do now is ask you to forgive me, but if you cannot, I understand. I will bear the consequences of my actions, or inaction, as must we all.

I remain, your friend,

Sasha

Max sat the letter down on the table, still reeling from what he had just read. Sasha did not hate him, even after all he'd said to her. Sasha, Colin, Grit… he'd been so furious with them all, and so convinced that they deserved every last scrap of it. Stewing in the toxic righteousness of his own anger, Max had barely even considered what they must be going through, trapped as their country hurtled along this destructive path. He'd been too quick to anger and too harsh to judge, and it was Rachel who had paid the price. Max leant forward and buried his head in his hands, overwhelmed by it all.

What had he done?

"Looks like you've seen better days, soldier!"

Max's head shot up again at the sound of a familiar voice. Standing on the other side of the table was an old man wearing casual white clothes and an olive green bandana over his head. A strap over one shoulder secured a leather bag at his hip, and all manner of pouches and pockets hung from his belt. Max could only guess at their contents. The man's face was lined with his years and the tufts of hair poking out around his ears were near white, but the confident grin planted on his face was full of vitality, and his dark eyes gleamed with mischief.

"Hachi," Max stammered.

In a panic he swept the letter from the table onto his lap. The last thing he wanted was for one of Orange Star's most legendary commanders to see him shaken by something so personal.

"What are you doin' here?"

"Why, I'm here to meet with Nell, of course!" Hachi replied. In the next instant his grin became a frown. "Except when I showed up for our appointment, she wasn't even in her office! Can you believe that?"

He shook his head in mock disbelief and pulled up a chair. Meanwhile, Max felt a sinking feeling in his gut. He knew exactly why Nell had forgotten the meeting. She must have been overwhelmed trying to contain the disaster unfolding on the front lines. It was hardly a surprise that an appointment to see Hachi had slipped her mind.

"Had some bad news, have you?" Hachi asked with a nod towards the letter on Max's lap.

Max's stomach tightened. "You, uh, could say that." For several seconds he was quiet. "What did Nell want to see you about, anyway? I don't remember her ever dragging you in here before."

It was hardly a subtle attempt to change the subject, but Hachi either did not notice, or let it pass without comment. The old man was clearly eager to chat; Max only hoped he would not be too picky about the topic.

"Well," Hachi began, his expression growing serious, "Nell asked me to help establish a dialogue with Yellow Comet. She wants to know more about what's going on over there, and what they're planning."

"You mean she wants to know why the hell they quit the Allied Nations," Max surmised. "How'd it go?"

"It wasn't easy to get any straight answers, let me tell you. When I finally got through to the Imperial War Office, I was brushed off like a nobody by some upstart general. Me!" Hachi's voice rose almost to a shout. "I trained alongside the Emperor, under Sensei himself. You'd think that would earn some respect!"

"Why didn't you just talk to Sensei?"

"Believe me, I tried!" Hachi sighed, and began to calm down again. "I couldn't reach him, either. It's like he's vanished off the face of the earth."

"So you don't have any clue what's up with Yellow Comet these days?"

Hachi's grin returned. "I didn't say that. I've still got a few tricks up my sleeve, don't you worry. I have friends all over the globe, military and otherwise, and they had some very interesting things to say." He chuckled to himself. "Thirty five years in uniform counts for something, eh?"

"I guess so," Max agreed.

Max's voice was quiet, and his smile forced. It was a struggle to muster any enthusiasm at all, let alone match Hachi's good cheer. He was only grateful that the old man did not seem to mind.

"Anyway, based on what my contacts told me, I pieced together a pretty good picture of what's happening." Hachi leant in closer, glancing around to check they were alone. "You didn't hear this from me, but it sounds like Yellow Comet's in much worse shape than they're letting on."

Max frowned. "How can that be? I thought they did a pretty good job of fending off Black Hole."

"In one sense, they did. But that's only half the story." Hachi paused and took a breath. "The way I hear it, early in the invasion Adder focused on attacking military targets, but he didn't make much headway."

"Yeah, that tracks," Max said. "Kanbei's Imperial Forces are a tough nut to crack."

"Exactly, and Adder knew it. So what did the snake do? He changed strategy! Instead of trying to fight Kanbei's army head on, he started hitting every piece of civilian infrastructure he could find. Power plants, pipelines, highways, the lot! Apparently the second war did a huge amount of damage to the country's power grid in particular, and a lot of it still hasn't been repaired."

"Okay, but what's that got to do with how Yellow Comet's acting now?"

"From what I'm told, Yellow Comet is struggling to keep the lights on. The country's still suffering from regular blackouts, and their industry is barely staying afloat. As for the repairs, they're going slowly. It's not easy to get hold of all the raw materials you need for that much construction work."

"Right."

Max's frown grew deeper. He did not understand the particular significance of this information. It was common knowledge that all four of the countries who fought Black Hole had suffered tremendous damage during the Second Great War. What did that have to do with why Yellow Comet was distancing itself from Orange Star now?

"And that's a problem?" Max asked.

"It is. You see, Yellow Comet's always been something of a resource poor country," Hachi explained. "It's what drove them to try and expand their empire forty years ago, and what got them drawn into the Cataclysm. The bottom line is that they don't have the materials to fix their infrastructure."

"So why go it alone?" Max still felt like he was missing something.

"Ask yourself, Max. Where's Yellow Comet getting the materials for their rebuilding effort from? I'll give you a hint: they're coming from a close neighbour, one with plenty of territory and a surplus of natural resources."

Max's expression darkened. "You're talking 'bout Blue Moon."

Hachi gave a single emphatic nod. "Now you're getting it. Yellow Comet can't – or at least won't – risk upsetting Blue Moon, not when they're so desperate to maintain their trade relationship."

"What about Kanbei?" Max demanded. "Why can't he just tell everyone to deal with the shortages?"

"It's not that simple," Hachi said. "Kanbei might be the Emperor, but his power isn't absolute. He has to answer to the government, and he needs the support of the people. There's more than one noble house in Yellow Comet, and an Emperor who makes too many unpopular decisions might not be Emperor for long."

Max's brow creased in thought. He should have realised that. He was no expert on the inner workings of Yellow Comet, but he'd seen enough to know that the Emperor could hardly do whatever he pleased.

"I know Kanbei," Hachi added, "and I can tell you that he must think he's doing what's best for Yellow Comet, even if it doesn't seem like it."

"So where does that leave us?"

Hachi gave a small shrug. "Exactly where we were before."

The old man's smile remained nonchalant and carefree, but Max noticed a slight tightening of the lines around his eyes. It made him think that Hachi was more concerned about this development than he seemed.

As Max considered what Hachi had told him, it occurred to him that perhaps this was what Sonja had been talking about during their conversation on the coast. She had certainly sounded frustrated with the decisions being made in Yellow Comet. Perhaps she disagreed with the government's priorities.

Sonja. It was only then Max realised that he hadn't reported the encounter to Nell. She still had no idea that he and Grit had even seen Sonja; there had been no mention of the meeting over phone or radio channels, and all records of her sudden appearance had been erased. Sonja had been adamant that they leave no trace of her movements for anyone to find. Max could not decide if she was being paranoid or simply practical. Nor did he know what to make of her theory regarding the enemy's strategy, much less her plan to travel north. Even so, Max had no intention of going against Sonja's wishes or betraying her confidence. If she wanted to act in total secrecy, she was more than welcome to do so.

The problem was that Nell still needed to know what Sonja had told them. It was information she needed to account for in her decision making, to say nothing of its potential diplomatic significance as they tried to rebuild their working relationship with Yellow Comet. Keeping Sonja's movements secret was not an issue, but it left Max in the uncomfortable position of needing to report them to Nell in person.

A flash of renewed self-recrimination shot through Max. How could he have forgotten about this? He should have remembered something so important, and he should have told Nell while he was standing right there in her office. Maybe Grit would explain what had happened, he thought. That would certainly make things easier. For a moment, Max dared to believe that there was no need for him to report the meeting to Nell, but the hope soon faded. He couldn't rely on Grit to take care of this; his old friend had more than enough problems of his own to deal with. No, Max decided, he wasn't going to be let off the hook that easily. He had been in command, he had brought Grit in, and his choices had put him in a position to hear Sonja out. That meant it was his responsibility to explain everything to Nell. After the way she had just spoken to him, even the thought of walking back into Nell's office made Max feel sick, but he had no choice.

He let out a bitter snort. It seemed there was no escaping his mistakes.

"Something wrong, Max?" Hachi asked, his tone becoming more gentle.

Max crossed his arms and looked away, staring across the dining area with sadness in his eyes. He was too tired to hide how he felt, and it was too difficult to ignore all the turmoil swirling around inside him.

"You ever make a mistake, Hachi?"

"Of course I have!" Hachi smiled. "You don't become the greatest CO there ever was without getting into a few tight spots, let me tell you!"

Max shook his head. "I mean a big mistake, the kind that gets people you care about hurt."

Hachi's smile faded. "Unfortunately, it's something that happens in our line of work."

"Even to the greatest CO there ever was?"

"Believe me, Max, I've made made my share of mistakes. I've made promises I couldn't keep, and people have died on my watch who didn't deserve to."

Hachi's voice was quiet, and Max was struck by how uncharacteristically serious he seemed. There was none of Hachi's typical bombast or cheerful demeanour in this answer, only solemn honesty, and Max wasn't sure what to make of it.

Hachi leant back slightly, his expression becoming thoughtful.

"All these questions wouldn't have something to do with what happened on the Blue Moon border, would they?"

Max winced. "You heard about that?"

Hachi gave him a knowing look. "Not much goes on around here that I don't know about."

Max accepted that with a slow nod, staring at the table with wide eyes and his lips pressed tightly together. He should have anticipated this. Very little escaped Hachi's notice, after all. The old man was remarkably well informed about current military affairs for a retired officer, even one who was the former Commander-in-Chief of Orange Star. Hachi could rattle off facts about virtually every commander of note, and seemed to understand the current military strategy of most countries better than anyone else alive. Max didn't know how he managed it.

"I messed up," Max said. "Everything's falling apart. People are gettin' hurt out there, and it's all my fault."

"You made a mistake," Hachi agreed. "The question is, what are you are going to do next?"

There was no judgement in his voice, and it was nothing more than a simple statement of fact. Max winced. Somehow that was just as difficult to hear as the dressing down he'd received from Nell.

"I dunno. All I'm doing is making things worse. Maybe… maybe it's better for everyone if I just get out of the way."

"Don't you give me that nonsense, soldier!" There was genuine irritation in Hachi's eyes now. "We both know you wouldn't be where you are if you weren't up to the job."

Max said nothing. The rational part of his mind knew Hachi was absolutely right, and there was nothing he could say in response. Shame and guilt screamed at him to disagree, but he had neither evidence nor counterpoint, and emotion alone was no rebuttal at all.

"You're a capable commander, and there's still plenty of good you can do for your country," Hachi continued. "You've got a choice, Max. You can sit around here feeling sorry for yourself –" here Max winced again – "or you can pick yourself up, dust yourself off, and try to make a difference out there."

Hachi paused. There was a subtle shift in his expression, and a look that was almost sly came into his brown eyes. Max felt a flicker of apprehension at the sight. Something told him he would not like where this was going.

"What do you think Rachel would say if she could see you now?"

A blast of nausea erupted in Max's gut like the detonation of an artillery shell. Ever since the consequences of his actions had become clear, Max had found he could not think of Rachel without being overwhelmed by panic and remorse. In some ways the reaction almost felt selfish. Others were much closer to Rachel than Max was, Nell first among them. Max knew that. He knew also that his choices on the Blue Moon front had cost far more than a single life. He had told himself those same things over and over again, but it made no difference. All he wanted was to know that Rachel was safe.

What would Rachel say if she could see him now? Max had a pretty good idea, and it did not make him feel any better. Rachel was far from the most patient person he knew, and if she thought someone was slacking off, she would not hesitate to give them an earful. Her tolerance for excuses was lower than Nell's, and her reaction would have been more forceful than Hachi's. If she were here, she'd probably start yelling at him to stop being lazy and start fixing his mistakes.

Another wave of nausea hit, and Max closed his eyes in shame. If only it were that easy.

"Well, it's been good talking to you, Max," Hachi said, "but I think it's time I see if Nell's back yet."

Max opened his eyes to see that Hachi had pushed his chair in and stood back up. There was a kindly understanding in the way Hachi was looking at him, and it made Max uneasy. He had the unpleasant suspicion that what he was going through was obvious to anyone who so much as looked at him.

"Right," Max managed to say. "I, uh… I guess I'll see you 'round."

"If you ever want to talk more, stop by the shop sometime. And don't forget to bring your wallet!" Hachi threw him one last grin. "I could use the business!"

With a chuckle Hachi turned and walked away, still smiling to himself. To all appearances, he was a man without a care in the world. Max would have given anything to feel the same, but the path ahead of him was not so easy.

He knew what he had to do. Nell needed to know about Sonja, and he had to be the one to tell her. Facing Nell again was the last thing Max wanted to do, but there was no way around it. He couldn't make the same mistake twice, and allow himself to be led astray by his own emotions instead of doing what was right. Nor could he run and hide simply because he felt guilty and ashamed. Max had never been one to quit when things got tough, and, sitting there with Sasha's letter in his hands, he knew that if he did so now, it would mean that he was not the man he thought he was.

Max exhaled and tapped the table several times. None of this had made him feel any better, not truly, but he at least had the sense to recognise that it wasn't about him. There was far much more at stake than his wounded pride. Perhaps it was too late to fix his mistakes, and perhaps he could never make what had happened right, but Max knew he had to try. If nothing else, he owed Rachel that much.

Chapter Text

A peculiar kind of calm had settled over Sami's life since she returned from infiltrating the Black Hole base, and once again took up more ordinary duties. She almost felt as though she was standing in the eye of a storm. Battles continued to rage elsewhere, and Sami knew that she would soon be called to join them, but for the time being she stood separate, with no specific mission or objective to complete. It was not an entirely unwelcome development. The rhythm of war was unpredictable; it could shift into a prolonged phase of intense fighting at any moment, and she had long ago learnt to appreciate any opportunity to conserve her strength.

So it was that Sami found herself watching a cloud smothered sky from behind the tinted windows of a military car, on her way to the finest hospital in the south of Orange Star. It was an uneventful drive through a city slowly waking to a grey winter morning. The clouds were flat and featureless, indifferent to the trials and triumphs of those living below. Nor did the world around her pay much heed to the armoured car as it travelled the suburban roads. This place too was enjoying a moment of peace, to all appearances unconcerned by the prospect war might soon find its way here as well. No sirens or horns announced the car as they drove onward, and they faced no obstructions besides the traffic congestion typical of an urban landscape. All was quiet, and there was nothing left for Sami to do from the back seat except watch the world pass by, and reflect on how she had ended up here.

After successfully extracting the captive Green Earth commanders, Sami's part in Operation Starfall had largely been over. While Eagle unleashed a punishing assault on the base and Drake fought a pitched battle with the enemy fleet, the task of evacuating Jess and Angel from the combat zone had fallen to Sami. There had been no choice but to bring them north to Orange Star. Airlifting them to Green Earth would have been far too dangerous with the battle still raging in the strait, and the medical facilities aboard their ships lacked the necessary equipment for a full evaluation. Jess and Angel had spent several days as Black Hole's prisoners, and it was imperative to make sure they were in good health, and more importantly, to confirm they had not been compromised by the enemy in any way. With two warships for an escort, Sami had set sail for home, heading for the largest island south of the mainland. She had delivered Jess and Angel to the best hospital in the regional capital after they made landfall, and she had not strayed far in the days since. Sami suspected that was by design. She had a feeling that Nell wanted her to stay close, both as a courtesy to their ally, and in case any further complications arose.

Sami meanwhile had spent her time working out of a local military base. In addition to coordinating their ongoing naval operations with Green Earth, she had been assigned to oversee all activity along the coast, and shore up the region's defences. It was a task that had taken on a renewed urgency of late. After Orange Star's southern carrier group left to join Eagle's battalion, a detachment of the Blue Moon navy had moved in to support their offensive on the mainland. For over a week now they had been menacing shipping, conducting petty raids, and probing some of the more isolated coastal defences. There was little that could be done to stop them, not until the situation to the south stabilised and they could recall some of their ships. If they could recall them, that was. The state of Green Earth's armed forces following the operation remained to be seen, and Sami could not ignore the possibility that their ships might be needed more elsewhere.

The alarming truth was that successive wars and attacks had left their ally's military badly degraded, and Operation Starfall had only exacerbated the trend. Although their primary objectives had all been accomplished, the battle with the Black Hole fleet had not gone as well as anyone might have hoped. Even Drake's adept command could not prevent the already battered Green Earth navy from taking further losses in battle. With Eagle moving to assist and their base in ruins, Black Hole had elected to retreat rather than fight to the death, but they had left Green Earth even weaker than before. The final damage reports were yet to come in, but there was already cause to question whether they would be able to secure their own borders in the future, and that posed a substantial problem. Orange Star was stretched thin already, with few military assets left to spare. They simply did not have the power to defend their own country and protect Green Earth as well.

Sami's gaze hardened as she looked towards the horizon, where beyond the rocky coastline she could see the ocean, dull and dark beneath the overcast sky. It felt to Sami as if they were treading water, barely managing to keep their heads above the surface. The waters were rising, these constant wars slowly sapping their strength. Sami had not lost hope – not by a long shot – but she was no fool. Something needed to change, and soon, or else they would surely drown.

The sound of an incoming phone call filled the car, cutting short that dark train of thought. Sami's eyes snapped to the front of the vehicle, where the driver and another soldier had control of the instrument panel and communications system. The passenger answered the call and briefly spoke, before handing a headset back to Sami.

"It's for you, ma'am."

She took the headset and put it to her ear. "This is Sami."

"Standby," an unfamiliar voice said. "I'm connecting you to the Commander-in-Chief now."

That was unexpected. Sami was due to report to Nell later that afternoon, after checking in at the hospital and conducting a preliminary debriefing session with Jess. Strictly speaking, she was supposed to do the same with Angel, but that particular duty was one she was more than happy to delegate to someone else.

The phone emitted a series of beeps as the signal was put through, soon followed by the sound of Nell's voice.

"Sami? Are you there?"

"I'm here, ma'am. What do you need?"

"How soon can you be back on the mainland?" Nell asked.

Sami frowned. "I'm not sure. I'm en route to the hospital now. The doctors have given me the all clear to interview Jess."

"And Angel? How is she?"

"Fine," Sami replied, making a conscious effort to keep her voice steady. "They're both fine. It sounds like they're recovering well."

"I'm glad to hear it," Nell said. "It's nice to have some good news for a change. There's been little enough of it lately."

It was not lost on Sami how tired Nell sounded as she said that, or how disconcerting it was to actually hear the signs of exhaustion in her voice. Nell was so rarely anything other than the very picture of professionalism, her composure perfect.

"Is everything okay, ma'am?"

There was silence for several seconds before Nell replied. "Not really. That's part of why I need you back in the capital. Tell me, Sami: how would you like to be me?"

"Ma'am?"

"I'm planning a trip," Nell explained. "I'll be out of the country for a week, perhaps even a little longer, and I need someone to take over my duties while I'm away."

Sami couldn't believe what she was hearing. "You'd leave Orange Star, ma'am? Now? With everything that's happening?"

Nell gave an audible sigh. "I'm afraid it's necessary. The attack on Green Earth has shown how vulnerable we are, and now that Blue Moon's invasion force is no longer contained, we're simply stretched too thin. We can't win the fights we're facing alone. If we're going to stand a chance against Black Hole, we need more allies." She paused. "This wasn't an easy choice, but I wouldn't be leaving if I didn't think it was the best thing for Orange Star."

Sami felt an uncomfortable prickle along the back of her neck. She hadn't meant to question her superior; she knew full well that every choice Nell made was in the best interests of their country. Nell's dedication to Orange Star was beyond reproach.

"Of course not, ma'am. I didn't mean to suggest otherwise."

"I know you didn't, Sami. And I know that our country will be in good hands while I'm gone."

"Are… are you sure?" Sami blurted out. "Am I really the best person for the job?"

"Well, Max took himself out of the running with his recent conduct, and Rachel is still missing in action." Nell went quiet for a few seconds. "So it was really a choice between you and Andy."

"I see your point."

"I thought you might," Nell said, and Sami could have sworn she heard a hint of amusement in her voice. "I almost asked Hachi to come out of retirement for a few weeks, but he'd never agree. You have no idea how much arm twisting it took just to get his help in an unofficial capacity."

Sami barely processed any of that. She was still grappling with the enormity of what Nell was asking of her. Sami had always been a good soldier – good at following orders, good at solving problems, and damn good at getting things done – but this appointment presented a different challenge entirely, and Sami did not know if she was ready for it. Ever since her academy days, she had struggled to manage the high level strategy and complex calculations that a top level position like Nell's demanded, and she'd never had much patience for politics, either. There was certainly no reason to think she would ever be Nell's equal as a leader.

All those doubts ran through Sami's mind in the space of a few seconds, but she already knew she could not turn down this request. Too much was at stake. If this was what her country needed of her, then she would play the part to the very best of her ability.

"What do you need to me to do, ma'am?" Sami asked, firm in her resolve.

"I need you on a flight to the capital as soon as possible," Nell said.

"I can head to the airport immediately if that's what you want, ma'am. If I leave now, I should arrive sometime tonight."

Nell considered that briefly. "It will take time to prepare a flight for take-off," she mused. "You might as well go ahead and conduct the interview with Jess. There shouldn't be any extra delay."

"Understood, ma'am. I'll drive straight to the airport as soon as I'm finished."

"I'll see you tonight, then." Nell paused. "We'll start the handover process first thing tomorrow morning. You can shadow me for the next few days while I bring you up to speed on everything you need to know."

Once again Sami heard the exhaustion in her superior's voice, and she could not help but be worried by it. More than anything, Orange Star needed Nell to stay strong. Without her, they didn't stand a chance against the forces trying to tear their country apart.

"Just…"

Sami hesitated, unsure if she could actually say what was on her mind. It had never been easy for her to talk to Nell as a friend. Recent events had certainly not helped any; in some ways, the distance between her and Nell felt greater than it had ever been.

She took a short breath and steeled herself. There was nothing wrong with expressing concern for a colleague's wellbeing, and no real reason for her to hesitate like this.

"Take care of yourself, ma'am. You need rest, too."

"Don't worry about me, Sami. I'll be fine."

The reply was not unkind, but it was firm enough to make Sami regret speaking up.

"Yes ma'am," Sami said, reining her voice back until her tone was strictly professional. "I'll report to you when I arrive, ma'am."

"I'm looking forward to it. Nell out."

With a click the connection was terminated, leaving Sami free to roll her eyes back and let out a long sigh. She should not have said anything. Nell was fully capable of looking after herself, and she did not need anyone pestering her.

With no wish to dwell on the awkward exchange, Sami instead turned her thoughts to the bigger question their conversation had left her with. What could possibly be so important that Nell would leave Orange Star while their country was being invaded? The most likely explanation was a diplomatic or intelligence sharing mission, and Nell had mentioned the need for allies. But who? There were few countries whose support could make a real difference. Any new allies at all would be welcome, of course, but there was one country in particular that might have the power to change the course of this war, and that country was Yellow Comet. Sami's brow creased as she considered the possibility that Nell was going to try and convince Kanbei to rejoin the fight. It made sense. After the attack on Green Earth and the discovery of the island base, no one with half a brain could remain blind to how dangerous Black Hole still was. Blue Moon might have gone collectively insane and decided to ignore reality, but Sami could not believe that Kanbei would refuse to take up arms now that the scale of the threat was clear, or that Sonja would ignore incontrovertible evidence.

"We're here, ma'am," the driver said.

Sami glanced out the window. They were already pulling into the hospital car park, and it did not take the driver long to find an empty spot. The parking space was reserved for staff use, but Sami did not let that bother her. Time was of the essence, and it was unlikely they would linger too long.

"Wait here," Sami ordered. "Get in touch with local air command and have them prepare a flight to the capital. I'll be heading back to headquarters once I'm finished here."

"You got it, ma'am."

Sami grabbed an army jacket from the seat beside her and got out of the car, pulling the jacket on as she walked towards the main building. There was a biting chill in the air, an icy damp born of the intermittent rains scouring the islands of late, but Sami left the jacket open. It would no doubt be warmer inside the hospital, and besides, she had always preferred to be a little too cold than too warm.

She was soon proven correct. A blast of heated air greeted her as she entered the hospital atrium, an expansive, open area home to help desks, intake zones, a cafe, and even a garish art installation in the middle of the floor space. Sami ignored the myriad distractions and marched straight to the main desk, where a middle aged receptionist wearing nurse's scrubs greeted her with a smile.

"How can I help you today?"

"Commander Sami, Orange Star Army." She pulled her ID from a pocket and showed it to the woman. "I was told that Commander Jess was ready for me to see her."

"The officer from Green Earth?"

Sami nodded once. "That's right, ma'am."

"Hold on one moment, please." The receptionist picked up a phone and quickly selected a number. "I just need to confirm this with the doctor."

Sami acknowledged that with another nod.

"Hello, Doctor Scott? This is the front desk. I have a Commander Sami here to see one of your patients." A short pause. "Yes, that's right. Right." A second silence, a little longer this time. "I understand. Thank you, doctor." She sat the phone down and smiled at Sami again. "If you'll just wait over there, the doctor will be down in a minute."

"Thank you, ma'am."

"You have a lovely day, Commander."

Lovely was not quite how Sami would have described her day so far, but she made sure to return the woman's smile before walking over to wait for the doctor. The words felt strange to hear. Jarring, almost. It was such an ordinary, polite way of saying goodbye, and of late Sami's life had been anything but ordinary. Wrestling with the magnitude of the threats her country faced gave her a very different perspective to most people. She almost felt out of place in this hospital that was going about its business as if nothing had changed, so removed from the wars raging far beyond these walls.

It was not the first time Sami had experienced this sensation since returning to Orange Star. The mission to rescue Jess and Angel had been so intense, and after coming through it, the whole world seemed to look a little different. Sami could not explain it. She felt as if she had dived to the bottom of a dark abyss and there come face to face with a terrible darkness. She had glimpsed the face of the enemy, and now this everyday reality seemed like a mask, hiding the evil she knew was still out there, lurking in the shadows.

At that moment a man and woman walked past Sami, all smiles and bright eyes. The woman was pregnant, one hand on her round belly, while the man's arm was around her shoulder to offer support. There was no urgency to their movements. Most likely they were there for a routine check-up on the baby. As they passed her, both of them made eye contact and smiled at Sami, and she was struck by the sheer happiness radiating from the young couple. Then they were gone, heading deeper into the building, and Sami was left feeling faintly bewildered by what had just happened. In the expectant young couple, she saw the world continuing to turn just as it always had, a tapestry woven from all the small joys, surprises, and trials of ordinary life. It was all so normal, so wholesome, and yet it seemed somehow surreal to her. Sami had long ago chosen to walk another path, and although she knew more than ever that she was doing exactly what she was meant to, she could not help but see the young couple and wonder.

Could that have been her? Could she have had that life?

Sami had no time to consider the possibility further, for it was then that a tall, grey haired man in a white lab coat approached her.

"Commander Sami?" He asked.

"That's right."

"I'm Doctor Scott. We spoke on the phone."

Sami shook the doctor's hand, noting his firm grip and matching it with her own. "It's good to meet you, doctor. Is Jess ready to speak to me?"

"She is." Sami heard the hesitation in Scott's voice. "If you'll just follow me."

"You don't sound too confident that she's ready," Sami observed as they waited for a lift to arrive.

The doctor glanced sideways at her. "Frankly, Commander, I'm not convinced this is in the best interests of my patient. Jess has just been through major surgery, and what she needs most is rest and a chance to recover. I understand the reason for your visit, but I don't want you putting her under any extra stress. Is that clear?"

A soft electronic tone sounded, and the lift doors slid open. Doctor Scott stepped inside and turned to face the front, his position clearly stated. Sami could tell he was not happy about her visit from the way he looked at her like she was some irritating child demanding attention. With an effort to keep from glaring at the man she followed him into the lift.

"I'm not here to interrogate Jess," she said. "I just need to conduct a quick interview."

"I know. That's the only reason I agreed to this."

Sami threw him a sharp glance, unable to entirely hide her annoyance. "I don't know if you've noticed, doctor, but we're at war. Which means I need any intel Jess might have on our enemy, and I need it as soon as possible."

Scott appeared unmoved by that. "The war is your problem, Commander. Not mine. All I care about is getting my patient healthy."

For a moment Sami was tempted to make a snide comment pointing out that if the war went badly, Scott would have a lot more patients to worry about, but she soon thought better of it. She needed his help, not his resentment. There was no point in antagonising him, even if she found his attitude frustrating.

The lift reached the fifth floor and stopped. Without so much as another word, Doctor Scott stepped out and began walking down the nearest corridor, leaving Sami with no choice but to follow. He led her past a waiting room, a small staff area, and then down a narrow hallway into what looked like some kind of lab. Sami frowned. There were no patients here, and no sign of Jess.

"Before you start your interview," he said, "you should see this."

Scott showed her to a metal table. Resting there was the strange device that had been attached to Jess's head. It had been cleaned and wrapped in a clear plastic bag, but there was no mistaking the smooth, rounded shape of the machine.

"We were able to remove this from Commander Jess without any complications, and as far as I can tell, there wasn't any lasting harm done to her."

Sami lifted the device and held it high, peering at the interior surface. It was much heavier than she had expected, and she could make out some kind of reflective material lining the inside.

"Do you have any idea what it was doing?" She asked.

"The device was attached directly to the patient's skull, but there was no penetration into the brain, nervous system, or any other vital organs."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning it probably wasn't designed to interfere with bodily functions. If I had to guess, I'd say it's some kind of bizarre imaging device."

"You think that thing was just taking brain scans?"

That annoyed look came back into Scott's eyes. "I don't know, Commander. As I said, this is just a guess. You'd have to take that machine apart to try and figure out how it works, and we're not qualified or authorised to do that."

"I see." Sami sat the device down on the table. "I'm heading back to the capital later today. I'll take it with me and have our people there look it over." She smiled slightly. "We've got an expert on Black Hole technology on our hands. She might be able to tell us what we're dealing with here."

"If you say so."

Scott did not look particularly pleased with that decision, but Sami was beginning to expect that response. She could not help but wonder if he resented having to accommodate the military in medical matters, or if this was merely a typical mood for him.

"I've got an army car waiting outside. Have this packed up and delivered to my driver, please."

She received only a small nod in response.

"And if there's nothing else," Sami continued, "I'd like to see Jess now."

"Right this way," Scott said in a resigned tone.

He led Sami out of the lab and back the way they had come, past the staff room and the lifts. The hospital floor became more crowded as they moved towards the other side of the building, and the rooms around them were soon bustling with constant activity. They had come to the heart of the hospital's surgical recovery ward. Staff went about their business with practised efficiency, while their patients either made use of lounge areas, or kept to their beds.

"Your commander's in that room there," Scott said, pointing down a side hallway.

"Thank you, Doctor. Make sure we're not disturbed, please."

Without waiting for Scott to reply Sami crossed the hallway and stepped through the indicated door. The room beyond was modest in size. Most of the available space was occupied by a lone bed and its attendant array of medical equipment, and there was only a single square window in the far wall, looking out over the hospital courtyard. There was no one else in the room save for Jess, who was sitting upright in the bed and picking at an unappetising meal resting on a tray across her legs. Her eyes were bleary and her face puffy, and there were bandages around her head and shaven scalp. Free of the Black Hole machine clamped to her skull she looked more like herself, but only a little. In the absence of her green uniform and her vivid shock of dyed scarlet hair, Jess appeared plain, pale, and ordinary.

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Sami said as she entered.

"Sami!" Jess sat her fork down. "I knew someone was coming to see me, but I didn't know it would be you. I understand I have you to thank for my rescue."

"It was a team effort," Sami replied. "There were a lot of good people involved in the operation. I had a great team with me, and we had plenty of help from Green Earth. In fact, Drake and Eagle were both invaluable."

"Even so, you took on the greatest risk. Thank you, Sami."

"Don't mention it. I know you'd have done the same for me."

"Of course." Jess gave a tired smile. "Eagle was invaluable, was he? I'm sure he'll never let me live this down."

Sami said nothing. Something told her that Eagle would not be so eager to use this as an opportunity to deride Jess, not when Angel had been likewise distressed. He was too involved, the situation too complicated.

Frowning slightly at the thought, Sami pulled up a chair beside the bed and sat down.

"So what else has happened while I've been out of action?" Jess asked, her voice slightly groggy.

"You shouldn't worry about that now. The doctor says you need to rest and get your strength back."

"You're not here because I need to rest."

Again Sami did not speak. Jess was right, and they both knew it.

"Please, Sami. I need to know what else has happened. I need to know –" Jess cut herself short, her eyes bulging in alarm. "I just need to know. As a fellow officer, I'm sure you can understand that."

"I can," Sami admitted. She sighed, deciding that she could not deny Jess's request. "Okay. After the attack on Green Earth, we learned that you were taken to a base on the same island Sturm operated from during the first war. We then launched a full scale assault to destroy the base and rescue you."

"A base on that island…" Jess closed her eyes as she struggled to process that information. "From there, they'd be in a perfect position to threaten both Orange Star and Green Earth."

Sami forced a grim smile. "Exactly. We think it was providing support to Black Hole's troops during all the recent attacks."

"Were we able to eliminate the enemy's offensive capability?"

"I'm afraid not," Sami said. "Part of the plan was for Drake to attack from the east, to draw the enemy out. He gave Eagle an opening to take out the base itself, but when it became clear the facility was doomed, the enemy force started to withdraw. Last we saw, they were heading south."

"And after that? What was Black Hole's next move?"

"We're still waiting for it."

"I see."

Jess lifted her fork and stabbed a piece of roasted potato, visibly troubled by what she had just heard. The way she stared at her food was too alert, her gaze too intense. It was not an encouraging sign. Sami had seen this look before, in the eyes of soldiers who had endured great trauma or suffering, and she knew precisely what it meant. Jess was clearly still in a state of shock, and that worried Sami. Green Earth could not afford to lose one of its best officers.

Sami glanced away, taking out a notepad and pencil from her pocket. It was not her place to assess Jess's mental health. There would be others more qualified to help her recover from all she had been through.

"Now we've gotten that out of the way," Sami said, "I need to ask you a few questions, if that's okay."

"You're here to debrief me?" There was no surprise in Jess's voice.

"Not in depth. I just need to get a better picture of what happened to you."

"I'll do my best to help, then. Where do you want to start?"

"Start at the beginning," Sami said. "Your last report to Drake said that you were moving into the city, and that you were going to try and take the attacking force by surprise. What happened?"

"Conditions were bad," Jess replied, her eyes darkening. "Visibility was poor, and we had limited communications. We encountered resistance as we advanced, and took casualties. Soon it became clear that the enemy troops were concentrated by the harbour. I saw…" Jess closed her eyes for a moment. "I thought I saw an opportunity to outflank them and start retaking control of the city. But I was wrong. They had more units in the area than I thought. We were caught in the open and…"

Jess's breath caught. Her eyes had gone wide, and she was staring straight ahead as if she was no longer aware of anything in the hospital room. Sami knew that look as well. Jess was reliving those fateful moments when the battle had been lost, and it seemed the memory was no less frightening than the event itself.

"We know from the survivors that your force was destroyed outside the naval academy," Sami said in a gentle tone.

Jess gave a shaky nod. "I'd like to say for the record that my troops fought with distinction. They handled themselves well under extremely difficult circumstances, and they're in no way to blame for what happened. The fault is mine, and mine alone. I overextended, and they paid the price."

Sami knew there was nothing she could say that would comfort Jess, and so she kept quiet. There was sympathy in her brown eyes as she watched Jess, but Sami did not say a word.

"What happened to you after the battle was over?"

"I'm not sure." Jess's brow creased. "I was injured in the blast. It's all a blur. I remember…" She lifted her hand and looked at one finger, secured in a plastic brace. "Adder was there. He took me captive, and he did this. There were voices, people talking…"

Jess trailed off, her silence heavy with uncertainty. Sami did not press her. She had no desire to make this conversation any more difficult for Jess than it already was.

"I know there was something I had to remember, something important, but I can't remember what."

She sounded more defeated than frustrated as she said it.

"What happened next?" Sami asked. "Do you remember being in the Black Hole base?"

"No. Nothing about a base, but I do remember waking up aboard a ship. There was a doctor there who treated my injuries." Jess's expression became puzzled. "A very strange doctor."

"Strange how?"

"He was an old man with pasty skin and green hair. Not entirely sane looking. He seemed to think I should be honoured he was treating me, even though he kept complaining that he was wasted on basic first aid."

Sami nodded. "I'm guessing that was Toad. Apparently he's another one of Black Hole's COs, although we don't know much about him."

"That's odd. I wonder why a doctor would fight for Black Hole?" Jess shook her head slightly as if to dismiss the thought. "This Toad came to see me several times, but I don't remember him saying anything about Black Hole's plans, and I never saw anything outside of the cabin they kept me in. I think they sedated me. I remember everything going dark, but after that, nothing."

"Nothing at all?"

"Not until I woke up here."

"Understood." Sami paused. "Did Toad let anything slip while he was treating you? Anything about what they were going to do with you?"

"Only that Flare would find me very useful." Sudden realisation dawned in Jess's eyes. "That's it. That's what I had to remember."

"What is?"

"Flare." Jess sounded both earnest and serious now. "She's not the leader of Black Hole. She's working for someone else."

"Are you sure? We haven't been able to confirm anything about Flare's part in all this."

"I'm positive. Flare spoke to Adder after the battle, and she said something about how she'd been given command of the operation over him. I'm certain that Flare answers to somebody else."

"Alright." Sami made a quick note of that. "That's good intel. Thank you, Jess."

Jess nodded and sat her tray of food aside, settling back in the hospital bed. A sudden weariness seemed to have come over her, as if the effort of recovering the memory had left her completely drained. She had found the information she'd been so determined to hold on to, and now she could give in to her exhaustion. Sami saw that shift and closed her notepad. There was little point in questioning Jess further; she clearly needed to rest. Besides, they had gone over what mattered most. There would be time enough for a full debriefing once Jess had recovered more.

"I think that's everything I need," Sami said as she stood up. "Thanks for all your help."

"It's the least I can do."

Jess was fading rapidly, Sami observed. By the look of her, she would be asleep within minutes. Deciding it would be best to quietly take her leave, Sami started walking towards the door. It was only when her hand was on the doorknob that something else occurred to her, and she paused.

"One last thing," Sami said, turning back towards Jess. "Have you ever heard of something called the resurrection?"

"What?" For a second Jess could only stare at Sami, bewildered. "No. What… what is it?"

"Just something someone said to me once," Sami replied. "Nothing to worry about."

"Oh," Jess murmured, struggling to keep her eyes open.

"Take care, Jess. I'll see you again once you're back on your feet."

There was no reply. Jess appeared to be drifting asleep, and there was no sign that she had even heard Sami's parting words. Sami stepped out of the room and eased the door shut, careful not to make any noise, before continuing on her way. She had made it halfway across the recovery ward when there came a shout from behind.

"Sami!"

It was a high pitched voice, and Sami did not recognise it. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Angel approaching at a quick pace, the woman's eyes wide and her cheeks flushed. In an instant Sami felt her stomach muscles tighten. Nor could she keep her hands from clenching into fists, although she had the presence of mind to move them behind her back, and out of sight.

"Commander Sami!" Angel called out again, slowing as she drew closer. "I'm so glad I caught you."

Angel broke out a wide smile as she reached Sami, showing off her perfect white teeth. Sami said nothing. She did not trust herself not to explode, to scream and shout, and that she had promised Nell she would not do.

Instead she did not react at all, rigid as wrought iron.

"I just wanted to thank you for rescuing me," Angel said, faltering slightly. "What you did was an incredible act of heroism. I want you to know how much I appreciate it."

Sami managed a brusque nod. "Just doing my job, ma'am."

The words sounded so cold and detached, even to her. Sami found she was actually surprised by how well she was managing to wall off her emotions. Angel could not help but notice, of course, and the girl's expression soon fell.

"Well, I – I really just wanted to say thank you."

For several long seconds Sami was silent, staring at this golden haired waif with her big blue eyes. She could feel her heartbeat pounding as she fought back the urge to scream, to say something she would surely regret.

"If you'll excuse me, I've got work to do," Sami said in that same cool voice.

She did not wait for a reply, but pivoted and walked away as if Angel meant nothing to her at all. No doubt the girl would think her rude, but that was better than the alternative. The promise Sami had made to Nell weighed upon her like a shackle, and she could not break it. That left her only one choice, and it was to make her escape as quickly as possible. Let Angel think whatever she wished to about their brief encounter. Sami didn't care about that, couldn't care about that. This mess was not of her making, and it was not her responsibility to fix any of it.

Sami marched all the way to the lifts and pressed the button to go down. Her fists were still clenched, and her breathing was shallow and tense. With a roll of her eyes she forced herself to relax, taking in deep, steady breaths. This was a foolish, emotional reaction, and it had no place in the professional life of an Orange Star Commander.

The lift arrived. Sami saw that it was empty and hurried inside, grateful for even a few seconds alone. It was only as the doors closed that she began to realise what had just happened, and what it meant.

Angel didn't know.

That much was obvious. It was clear from the way she'd prattled on that the girl was oblivious to the history between Sami and Eagle, and had no intention of making herself scarce. Sami let out her breath in a hiss. This was just another bitter complication added to the list of problems Eagle had left her with.

In that moment, Sami saw red, and all her efforts to try and stay calm failed. With a grunt she slammed her fist against the lift wall. Predictably, the false wood panel barely even buckled, and Sami's whole arm was jarred by the impact. She pulled her fist back, immediately regretting the rash action. Her knuckles were bleeding, and there were sharp pains shooting through her hand. Punching the wall had been a stupid, impulsive thing to do, but, she thought, at least it was preferable to breaking Angel's nose.

The lift stopped at a lower floor and two nurses entered, casting odd looks at her bleeding hand. Sami assumed a polite smile and shoved both hands in her pockets. It could have been worse. She had spoken to Angel without compromising her integrity. She'd kept her promise to Nell, and her temper in check; a few grazes on her hand were a small price to pay for that. If nothing else, Sami knew now that she could live with this. She had proven to herself that she could bear the pain of what Eagle had done without being ruled by it.

Soon the lift arrived on the ground floor, and Sami stepped out into the hospital atrium. She moved quickly towards the entrance, heading for her waiting car. Her path led home. There was nothing more she could accomplish here, and no words left to say. She was needed elsewhere, and nothing was going to stop her from doing her duty. Not Angel, not Eagle, nothing. As she stepped outside and felt the cold air hit her cheeks, Sami again told herself that she could do this. She could live with this.

Chapter Text

Infiltrating Scorpion's militia had turned out to be much easier than Hawke anticipated.

First he had travelled to a port in the north of Brown Nebula, one known to be a stronghold of the group. There he had located a corrupt recruiter, and bribed the man to provide him with a suitable background. As far as the scorpions were concerned, he was Shrike the mercenary, a hireling who had bolstered the militia's numbers on a few unimportant occasions. He had then expressed a desire to join the group proper, been vouched for by the recruiter, and accepted into their ranks. To lend credence to the ruse, Shrike had been paid for his services with cash drawn from the militia's funds. That money had gone into the recruiter's pocket along with the bribe, which had the additional benefit of giving Hawke leverage over the man.

Hawke was confident that would be enough to satisfy anyone who looked into his background. Between the false history he had bought and the armband taken from the guard he had killed, the scorpions had every reason to believe he was one of their own, and any discrepancies in his story were unlikely to prompt much concern. He was not joining a professional military, and warlords rarely kept detailed records. Furthermore, it was entirely plausible that a capable fighter might have been sent to join the main force, rather than waste time on a training regimen. Even in the scenario that his cover story was broken, Hawke doubted that his actions would arouse much suspicion. Such backroom arrangements were common in this part of the world, and willing fighters were always in great demand. If anyone investigated his story, they would probably assume he was no more than an ordinary mercenary eager to find a more stable position, and fail to see what he really was.

As it turned out, his preparations had hardly seemed necessary. With the scorpion armband around his bicep, no one had even challenged his presence. His story had been accepted without question, and Hawke had wasted no time embedding himself within the militia. For almost three weeks now he had been stationed at one of their primary bases, carrying out routine tasks and duties, and all the while he had watched, and he had listened. Posing as a common soldier, he had no access to sensitive information, but these insurgents were not careful with their words. Their security was lax. They boasted freely of their belief in Scorpion, and of the powerful equipment he had procured. A picture was beginning to form, and it was a curious one. Not only was Hawke satisfied that there was a connection between Scorpion's group and Black Hole, the link was plainly much deeper than he had imagined.

Confirmation of that had come only two days prior. Hawke had been assigned to a raiding party, heading east to exact tribute from a local ruler. The scorpions had been prepared for battle, although in the event there had been no need for violence. The demanded tribute had been paid after a mere show of force, in no small part because the raiding party included two Neotanks. The significance of the tanks was not lost on Hawke. Neotanks were expensive and highly sophisticated weapons, far beyond the ability of any dilapidated old factory to produce. Either someone else had provided the means and materials to assemble the tanks in Brown Nebula, or they had been built elsewhere and delivered here afterwards. Both possibilities led to the same conclusion: Scorpion's little militia had a powerful backer indeed. What was more, the tanks did not match the variants developed by the Allied Nations. They were identical to the original models designed by Lash. Knowing what he did of Black Hole's technology and manufacturing processes, Hawke considered it unlikely anyone else could have reproduced their designs so exactly. It was damning evidence, and Hawke was left with no doubt that he was on the right trail.

In some ways he felt like the victim of another strange twist of fate. Going undercover with a warlord's militia was not where Hawke had expected to find himself after losing everything, and it had certainly never been his intention to involve himself in another Black Hole plot. When he returned to his homeland for the second time, he had sought nothing more than to turn the page on his past and start again, unknown to the wider world. To find the country simmering with rumours of warlords deploying Black Hole tanks had come as an unwelcome surprise. Hawke had no desire to be reminded of what he had left behind, and at first he had paid such gossip little heed, assuming the stories were no more than propaganda, and the aid no more than salvaged equipment from the recent wars. Any further rumours he had ignored. Brown Nebula had been wracked by conflict for as long as he could remember, and he had no desire to involve himself in such pointless power struggles again. Such matters, he had reminded himself, were no longer his concern.

But the rumours had only spread as the months passed, and Hawke had seen for himself activity that made him suspect there was some truth to the stories after all. There were too many similar accounts to dismiss entirely. People spoke in hushed voices of unmanned tank platoons sowing terror throughout the desert, tanks bearing the black scorpion sigil, and all the while, Scorpion's sway over the country grew. After several months, Hawke had been forced to conclude that something about the warlord's rise to power was suspicious. In the space of a year Scorpion had gone from an obscure agitator to one of the most feared men in Brown Nebula, and every source agreed that his militia boasted an impressive armoured complement. That was unusual in these parts. Whilst it was not uncommon for warlords to use limited numbers of imported or outdated tanks in times of great need, Brown Nebula simply lacked the facilities or supply chains to keep such vehicles operational. Acquiring Black Hole tanks was one thing, but maintaining them was another matter entirely.

Still, there had simply not been enough evidence to make an informed judgement. It was not inconceivable that Scorpion had merely looted an abandoned base in Omega Land, and his army's capabilities would naturally degrade over time. There were many possible explanations for Scorpion's rapid ascent, and for many months, Hawke had found it easy enough to assume that his former group could not be involved. That the Black Hole Army had died in the wastes Von Bolt created, along with the man Hawke had been for his entire adult life.

That had been before news reached Brown Nebula of the attacks on Orange Star and Green Earth, however. Hawke considered it unlikely those two countries would sound the alarm without good cause; suddenly, it had not been so easy to dismiss the idea that Black Hole was behind Scorpion's rise. Their army was clearly still active, however diminished it might have been. The mystery consumed his thoughts, nagging at him each night when he lay down to sleep. Where had these vehicles come from? Who was pulling the strings here in Brown Nebula, and what did they seek to gain? Over and over Hawke asked himself those same questions. No matter how he tried, he could not stop thinking about what was happening any more than he could forget his past. He found himself losing focus as the days wore on, doubting his every decision, and he did not know how to stop it. The uncertainty was always with him, like a stone lodged in the pit of his stomach, and it was intolerable.

Eventually Hawke had concluded that the only way to relieve his discomfort was to take action. Until he understood the nature of Black Hole's resurgence, he reasoned, he would never feel secure. He had made too many enemies, and if one of them had taken control of Black Hole, they might discover he was alive, and seek retribution. Hawke had no wish to suffer at the hands of a vengeful Kindle, or a slighted Adder. So he had decided to infiltrate Scorpion's militia, and trace the Black Hole equipment in Brown Nebula back to its source. He would determine for himself in what form the group remained active, and if he deemed their new leader was a threat, they would be dealt with. A simple plan, but one Hawke was confident he could carry out.

All the unanswered questions were swirling about Hawke's mind as the raiding party drove north through the desert, returning home after their successful mission. The militia's vehicles drove in single file, their formation a scalpel cutting through the endless expanse of pale sand. It was a world awash with shimmering heat, baking beneath the lazy eye of the setting sun, whilst the sky itself had grown inflamed with hues of red and violet. Hawke rode as a passenger in the cab of a technical, staring through the windscreen. Striking as they were, he paid little attention to the colours of the sunset. Instead his eyes were fixed on the Neotank cruising in front of them, its armoured hull tinted orange by the dwindling light. The tank was a relentless reminder of what had brought him here, a lodestone for all the mysteries of this land, and Hawke could not look at it without feeling the weight of how much he still did not know.

"You seem very interested in that tank," the driver said, interrupting Hawke's thoughts. "Was this the first time you'd seen one of them?"

Hawke's gaze flicked sideways, settling on the man without showing any emotion. He was a sallow, skinny sort with too intense eyes that betrayed his zeal, and the name he had given was Saif.

"It was," he replied, his gaze returning to the tank ahead.

That was a lie, of course. Hawke had overseen Lash's work on the Neotank project from the beginning, and during the invasion of Green Earth, he had commanded more of the vehicles than Saif could possibly imagine. He was probably more familiar with their capabilities than anyone in Brown Nebula.

"They are great machines," Saif breathed, those big eyes of his alighting upon the Neotank as well. "The salvation we have long sought."

"They are useful tools," Hawke said. "Nothing more."

Saif snorted. "Not much impresses you, does it? Those tanks are a technology far beyond anything we've ever seen, and you call them tools."

"They are formidable weapons, I grant you, but they do not make us invincible. As with any weapon, what matters is how they are used. If all we do with those tanks is extort tribute from petty warlords…" He trailed off with a roll of his eyes.

"You want to know what they're for?" Saif asked, his tone growing sly.

Hawke said nothing. He had made his little gambit; now, there was nothing he could do except see if the man would take the bait.

Saif shook his head, smiling as if there was a secret only he knew. "This is just the beginning. Soon, we will rise up and take back what is ours. This land will be made whole again, and Scorpion is the one who will do it." A short pause. "The resurrection is at hand, and when it comes, it will impress even you, Shrike."

"We shall see."

It was not a particularly informative answer, but it was hardly an unexpected one. Hawke had grown used to such talk during his time with the scorpions. Many members of the militia believed they were about to claim all of Brown Nebula for themselves, and that their newfound military might was the means by which they would do it. Hawke would have dismissed the boasts as no more than a product of their fanaticism, but for the presence of the Neotanks. They, along with the other Black Hole vehicles he had seen, explained a great deal about how Scorpion's power and influence had grown so quickly over the past year, but the question remained: why did Black Hole not keep the weapons for its own use? It would not be the first time Black Hole had sought to manipulate others, but it had never shown its hand so overtly before. Something strange was at work here in this country he had once called home, but Hawke could not quite grasp what. There had to be a piece of the puzzle he was missing.

He settled back in his seat and closed his eyes, pondering it all once again. Over the past few months it had proven difficult to establish an accurate picture of what was happening around the world. News of Black Hole activity did not generate headlines like it once had, especially when the group's objective remained so unclear, and without access to reliable intelligence, Hawke's insight was limited. For every hysterical source claiming a third great war was at hand, two more would dismiss the recent attacks as no more than petty raids, or desperate attacks by degraded remnants. There was no longer any consensus about the threat Black Hole posed, not even amongst the countries who had suffered at their hands. The recent attacks on Orange Star and Green Earth had convinced Hawke that the group was not defunct, but beyond that he could say very little with any degree of confidence. Not that it mattered. The mere fact Black Hole was still active at all after suffering such a comprehensive defeat in Omega Land was remarkable enough.

"Wake up," Saif said. "We're back."

The growl of the engine changed as the technical slowed. Hawke opened his eyes and looked from the Neotank ahead of them to the horizon, where a cluster of buildings was just coming into view. It was the militia's primary base of operations. Hawke had spent most of the past three weeks there, save for a few excursions to claim tribute or see off rival raiders. A fence of barbed wire surrounded the compound, which included a large barracks and a mess hall, storage areas, a maintenance facility for the group's heavy equipment, and a command office. The main gate was made from reinforced steel and flanked by a pair of small watchtowers, complete with searchlights and turret mounted machine guns. It was by no means an impregnable fortress, but it was more than capable of repelling any intruders who found their way this deep into Scorpion's territory without being detected.

As they approached the gate, Hawke realised that the yard on the other side of the fence was much more congested than they had left it. A collection of trucks, tanks, troop carriers and civilian four wheel drives were neatly arranged to one side of the camp, every one painted in a desert camouflage pattern and displaying the black scorpion sigil. It was an intriguing development. If Hawke was not mistaken, the trucks and armoured vehicles were some of the best equipment these insurgents possessed, and their use was typically reserved for Scorpion himself.

"Something's happening," he said.

Saif saw it too. The man's big eyes were darting about these new arrivals with manic fascination, but he said nothing. So enraptured was he by the sight that he did not notice when the Neotank in front of them passed through the gate, and had to be reminded to drive by the horn of the car behind. With a sheepish smile Saif accelerated again, bringing their technical into the camp and finding an empty space to park. Hawke did not waste time on further conversation, but stepped out into the yard as soon as the car came to a halt, eager to stretch his legs after the long drive.

He had scarcely shut the door behind him when two militia soldiers appeared to block his path. Hawke's expression did not waver, but his muscles tightened slightly at the sight. Had he been discovered?

"You are Shrike?" One of them asked.

Hawke relaxed. They did not have his real name, then.

"That's correct."

The soldier gave a satisfied nod. "Report to the mess hall. Scorpion wants to see you."

"Understood."

With that they were gone, and Hawke was left to answer the summons on his own. Already he was evaluating what this turn of events might mean. From what Hawke had observed, Scorpion preferred to give orders through intermediaries, and he had never heard of any common fighter being singled out for an audience. Thus far he had seen Scorpion just once since that night in the bar, and then only at a distance. This was the first time the warlord had visited the camp. Hawke knew it was unlikely Scorpion had come here specifically to meet with him, but the fact his presence had been requested at all suggested that his efforts to ingratiate himself to the militia had borne fruit. Either that, or he was walking into a trap.

As he crossed the yard, Hawke considered the latter possibility for a little while longer, but he soon dismissed it. He could feel the reassuring weight of his handgun in its holster, and it was unlikely that Scorpion's men would have let him remain armed if they knew he was not what he seemed to be. One gun would do him little good against a small army, but if anyone suspected he might pose a threat to the warlord, they would have removed his weapon.

Satisfied he was in no immediate danger, Hawke instead studied what was happening in the camp as he wove his way through the commotion. Men were hauling crates from one of the large sheds and loading them into the old trucks. Most likely this cargo was what Scorpion had come to collect, but Hawke had no time to observe anything further before he reached the mess hall.

Another two soldiers were guarding the door, but they said nothing as he walked past them. Inside the mess hall had been cleared of its usual occupants, replaced by several more of Scorpion's guards standing around the perimeter, and the many dining tables were empty. Some of the men kept their faces covered by scarves or turbans, and the others Hawke did not recognise. None were of any particular interest compared to the lone figure standing near the centre of the hall. He was exactly as he had been that night in the bar, right down to the olive green headscarf and the great shawl that fell to his knees like a cloak, and he waited like a spider at the middle of its web.

Hawke took a short breath and stepped forward. Time to see what this was all about.

"You wished to see me, sir?" He called out.

That eerie mask turned to face him. Even at such a close distance, he could ascertain nothing about the warlord's identity. The eye holes on Scorpion's gas mask were tinted, and it was impossible to see what lay behind them.

"You must be Shrike," Scorpion said. "Come. We have much to discuss."

He spoke slowly, carefully, his words carried through a speaker. There was a robotic quality to his voice, and it could not be due to the mask alone. He had to be using some kind of vocal filter.

Hawke approached, careful to keep his pace slow and his stance submissive. "What is it you wish to talk about, sir?"

"Nothing less than your future here, and what you may have to offer our cause."

Hawke's expression did not change as he gave a respectful nod. If his reading of the situation was correct, this was a promising opportunity indeed, but he could not appear too eager.

"My men have told me a great deal about you," Scorpion continued. "They say you are intelligent and capable. They say that you will work long and hard without complaint, and that you know not only how to handle yourself in combat, but how to lead men into battle." For a second he paused. "And they say that you know no fear."

"What people say or do not say about me is their business," Hawke said. "I am not concerned with the opinions of others."

"What are you concerned with?"

Hawke paused, considering his reply. It was a question that had been much on his mind of late, and he was having difficulty finding any answers. The things that once gave him purpose no longer seemed enough to live for.

"Survival," Hawke said after a moment more.

It was not a lie, at least, not entirely. For many years that had been his driving goal, and in a way, it still was. What was he doing here if not investigating a possible threat to his own survival? Again Hawke found himself faced with the uncomfortable suspicion that he truly was no different to Von Bolt, determined to preserve his own life at any cost.

He pushed the thought away. This was not the time for such musings. It was an answer that Scorpion was likely to accept, which was all that mattered.

"And is that all you care about?" The militia leader asked in that strange voice of his. "Surviving?"

Hawke looked away. "It is all that's left to me."

Was that a lie, a half truth, or something more honest than even he realised? Hawke was no longer sure.

"Then I take it you do not believe in our cause?"

"I believe in your strength." Hawke's lip twitched as he allowed a faint smile to show. "And I believe it is unwise to stand alone in such turbulent times."

No reply followed that. Hawke began to wonder if he was coming across as too disinterested, but he could not change his course now. Scorpion would not have arranged this meeting without knowing all there was to know about Shrike the mercenary. No doubt the masked warlord had heard all about Shrike's aloof attitude from his underlings in the camp, and would find it suspicious if he suddenly displayed a fanatical devotion.

Scorpion turned and began to stroll about the hall, seemingly savouring the moment. He meandered between the tables with no apparent direction in mind, his heavy shawl rippling in his wake. Hawke was completely at his mercy, and they both knew it.

Eventually he came to one side of the mess hall and pivoted back towards Hawke.

"I have need of capable lieutenants for what is to come," he said, "and I think you may, perhaps, be suitable. However –" the gas mask glanced in his direction – "first I must know if you can be trusted."

"Do you only trust those who offer you their blind devotion?" Hawke asked.

That won him a laugh, the sound twisted and mutilated by whatever filter Scorpion was using.

"There are thousands in this country who do my bidding, and many of them are not especially loyal. I'm sure some even wish me dead. But I understand them. I trust they will do as I say, be it out of fear, out of greed, or simply because we share a common interest." Another pause came. "You, Shrike, I do not yet understand."

"There is little to understand," Hawke said, his tone deferential yet firm. "My story is neither interesting nor unique. Raiders destroyed my home and killed my only family when I was young. Since then, I have sought only to avoid the same fate."

"Survival," Scorpion repeated. "And is this all that drives you?"

He shrugged. "Where there is life, there's opportunity."

Scorpion let out a strange, rasping sound at that. A grunt, or perhaps a hiss. It was difficult to tell.

"And if I offered you a place in my personal guard?" He asked. "Would you consider that a worthwhile opportunity?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

The question was sharp and direct. Almost rude in its blunt force, had courtesy or good manners been at all relevant to this conversation. Many might have been caught off guard by the sudden shift in tone, which was likely the intent, but Hawke was not so easily shaken.

"I should have thought that was obvious," he said. "Because you have power, and your strength is only growing. I would much prefer to fight for you, rather than against you."

"And if my power should wane?" Scorpion said, his tone sharper. "What then?"

Hawke stirred at that, his brow creasing slightly. "I will not abandon you at the first sign of trouble, if that is what you ask, but neither will I die for a lost cause."

"How then can I ever trust that you will not betray me?"

You can't, Hawke thought. His loyalties had always been first to himself, as others had learnt at great cost. Shrike the mercenary, however, was not quite so ambitious.

"What would I gain by doing so?" He said instead. "Your rivals will never accept someone who was once part of your inner circle."

"I see. So you are a man who will fight for the strong to survive, but one who ultimately has no loyalty to anything except his own skin."

"Is that not true of all men?" Hawke asked, even though he knew it was not.

"No, Shrike. It is not."

Scorpion was silent for a long while after that. There was no way to know what was taking place behind his mask, but Hawke had the distinct impression that he was being judged, and found wanting.

"Do you truly have no desire to be part of something greater than yourself?" Scorpion asked, his peculiar voice growing softer now.

Hawke blinked. "I am not sure what you mean."

"Surely you must have heard the rumours by now. We are living in a time of great portent. The resurrection is at hand."

This again. It was tiresome, Hawke thought, how often people parroted that tired refrain, clinging to an ancient legend rather than taking charge of their own lives. The resurrection was perhaps the most seductive myth in Brown Nebula's history: the enduring notion that no matter what calamity befell the great kingdom, it would always rise again, mightier and more prosperous than before, and every wrong, every injustice its people had suffered would be made right in the end. It was a fiction. A fairytale with little basis in fact. Brown Nebula had been the seat of many empires throughout history, but any continuity between them was no more than a clumsy justification by men who sought to lay claim to the legacy of the past. The tale of the resurrection served no purpose except to bestow some semblance of legitimacy on a new regime following a period of upheaval.

Even that much seemed a remote possibility now. It had been over thirty years since the Cataclysm saw Brown Nebula collapse into anarchy, and the chances of anyone uniting a large part of the country for any significant length of time were slim. The great kingdom of old was dead. Nothing remained of it now, save for the vultures fighting over its rotting corpse.

All of this passed through Hawke's mind in the space of a few seconds, but he made sure not to let his displeasure show. Something told him that would not go over well with his host.

"I have heard men and women talk of the resurrection all my life," Hawke said carefully, "and I am yet to see any evidence such a thing will ever come to pass."

"Then you are blind," Scorpion muttered. Hawke was barely able to discern the words through his filter. "The proof is before your very eyes. Do you not see what is happening here? Our strength grows by the day. Our enemies have squandered their gains, falling upon each other like starving wolves. Our army is blessed with a power we could never have imagined possible, and the time will soon come when it must be unleashed. This is a moment of destiny, Shrike, and we must be ready to seize it. Soon we will drive the occupiers back across the sea, and the kingdom of old shall be made whole once more."

And no doubt you will be the one to rule it, Hawke concluded.

"You are clearly a man of greater vision than I," was all he said aloud, bowing his head in respect.

Scorpion's masked head whipped about, leaving Hawke to wonder if he had sounded as sincere as he intended.

"It is true what they say about you," Scorpion said. "You are indeed fearless."

Hawke kept his gaze downcast, all too aware that it was unwise to provoke Scorpion any further. It was impossible to judge if the warlord meant every word he said, or if he was merely an opportunist, seizing upon the myth of the resurrection as a means to spread his influence. Perhaps that was why he wore the mask. Still, whatever Scorpion truly believed, it was obvious to Hawke that there was more at work here than simple zealotry. Black Hole surely had no interest in supporting this cause for its own sake.

"Still, it matters not what you believe," Scorpion added when Hawke said nothing further. "I only need you to do as I command, and serve me well. The rest will come with time."

He raised a gloved hand and signalled to one of the guards, who hastened to join them.

"Yes, Commander?"

"You are to find Shrike here a place in the convoy," Scorpion ordered. "He will be coming with us tonight, and joining the ranks of my personal guard."

Hawke bowed his head again. "Thank you, sir."

"For now you will serve as part of my escort. That should give me the chance to see if you are worthy of greater things. And you, perhaps, may even come to understand what is at work here."

"I am…" Hawke frowned, searching for the right words. "Truly grateful."

"I know you are. Now go." Scorpion turned to the guard. "Show him to the convoy. We will leave as soon as the cargo is secure."

The guard nodded and began walking towards the main exit, gesturing for Hawke to follow. They were almost to the door when Scorpion called to him from behind.

"I will be watching you, Shrike. Do not forget that."

Hawke did not turn or even react at all, sensing this was no more than a parting word of advice. Then they were outside again, the doors swinging shut behind them, and Scorpion was lost to sight.

A rush of cold air greeted them as they stepped out into the yard, sending a shiver down Hawke's spine. The sun had fallen beneath the horizon while he was indoors, and in its absence darkness crept back into the world. All the warmth and fire of the sunset had gone cold, save for a faint glow retreating beyond the distant dunes. Now the sky was slowly consumed by a front of blue and black, spreading like a worsening bruise, and already the temperature was beginning to drop sharply, an early sign of the bitter chill that would define the desert night.

"You're a lucky man," the guard commented, glancing at Hawke. "Very few attract the warlord's eye." He pointed across the compound. "Come on. This way."

The guard walked straight across the yard, heading directly for the group of vehicles Hawke had noticed earlier. There was still plenty of activity around the trucks, but the work of loading crates and cargo seemed to be complete. Instead Scorpion's men were focused on making sure everything was tied down and secure, and conducting final checks on the engines. As they walked past the trucks, Hawke looked over the crates, searching for any hints as to their contents, but found nothing in the brief moments he had to scan them.

His escort soon came to a halt, pointing towards the rear seat of a waiting SUV.

"You ride in here," he said. "Try and get some sleep. It's a long drive."

"A long drive to where?" Hawke asked.

The man laughed and clapped him on the shoulder. "You'll see."

Hawke accepted that with a nod and climbed inside, while the guard took the driver's seat. Others soon filled the remaining spots in the vehicle, and none of them paid Hawke much heed. Apparently his presence was unremarkable. Minutes ticked by with only a few murmurs of conversation. Outside, Hawke could see movement all around as Scorpion's men finished preparing the convoy. Before long it subsided, and the trucks and armoured vehicles were left clear to depart. Hawke watched as Scorpion emerged from the mess hall and made his way to the other SUV, flanked by his guards as always. One of the armoured transports would have been a safer place to ride, but they were deep inside territory Scorpion controlled, and there was little chance anyone would be brave or foolish enough to attack the warlord here.

The driver turned the keys, and the engine came awake with a roar. Headlights came on along the row of parked vehicles, their intense beams cutting through the lengthening shadows. One by one, the other trucks and tanks began to move out of the base, and then it was their turn. The SUV followed the rest of the group through the gate and into the arid wasteland beyond. Before long the fortified compound was far behind them, and they were alone.

Out in the sands there were no signs of life, or civilisation. There was only the red brake lights of the cars ahead, looming like demonic eyes in the dark, and the narrow sliver of ground illuminated by their headlights. Not even the moon bore witness to their passage. It was the night of the new moon, and the sky was marked only by the glittering gaze of innumerable faraway stars. With no landmarks or other points of reference to be found, it was difficult to tell if they were making any progress at all.

They drove for hours through the night. Some of the other passengers dozed off, but Hawke did not join them. He refused to sleep now that he was on the cusp of learning what Scorpion was up to. It was crucial that he stayed alert and observant, and made the most of this opportunity. As they drove on, he instead paid attention to every change in direction they made, trying to piece together a rough idea of their path. Perhaps later he would be able to chart their course. At several points the convoy slowed, either to take a turn or to navigate obstacles in the terrain. For the most part, however, they proceeded straight in a single direction. South, or perhaps southwest. They were not driving towards any of the major cities or towns in Brown Nebula, not by Hawke's reckoning. They were heading deeper into the desert. Hawke had no idea where they could be going, or what possible purpose this journey might serve, but if it demanded Scorpion's personal attention, then it had to be something important.

"Time to wake up," the driver said. "We're almost there."

Hawke peered ahead through the windscreen. Sure enough, there were lights visible in the night, far too bright and too regular to be any kind of natural phenomenon. Behind them a dark mass loomed, blotting out the night sky and all its stars. Whatever this was, it was certainly no empty space in the desert.

The artificial lights grew larger as the trucks and tanks made their approach. Soon they were close enough for Hawke to glimpse patches of rock and sand illuminated beneath their glare. They were heading towards one of the many stone formations that dotted the region, mountainous outcrops rising from the wastes like islands of jagged rock. Hawke's interest stirred, but he could see nothing more from inside the car. The lights were too bright and too harsh, and they drew the eye to the exclusion of all else.

At last the convoy slowed and pulled onto a smooth surface, coming to a stop near the base of the windswept rocks. They had arrived at a small parking area, paved with slabs of concrete and well lit by a row of floodlights. There were more of the lights placed along a short road circling around the outcrop, and Hawke could see sheds and trailers scattered all around, along with an array of construction equipment and piles of building supplies. It looked like they had come to some kind of industrial site. A mine, perhaps. 

The first thing Hawke noticed when he stepped outside was the biting cold in the night air. It settled against his skin like an icy shroud, numbing his cheeks and nose. The second was the ring of guards stationed around the perimeter. They were not human, but rather squat figures in enclosed suits carrying short, stocky rifles. Black Hole soldiers. Hawke quickly adjusted his headscarf to hide his features, leaving only his eyes visible. He did not know who else might be waiting here, and he could not risk being recognised by one of his former associates. Thankfully, the cold provided him with the perfect excuse to cover his face. 

Once that was done, Hawke began scanning the surroundings, searching for anything of interest while the rest of Scorpion's men exited their vehicles. Several Black Hole tanks and troop carriers were present, sitting immobile towards the installation's periphery. More intriguing was the massive structure that had been built a short distance away, resting upon the sands like the body of a colossal worm. It had been covered in cloth and primitive scaffolding in an attempt to disguise its nature, but Hawke knew exactly what he was looking at. He recognised a Black Hole pipeline when he saw one. What was curious, however, was the way this particular pipe emerged from a ravine and then ran for only a short distance before disappearing beneath the sands. Wherever it led, it was running underground. Hawke's eyes narrowed slightly as he studied the pipe. To his knowledge, that had never been done before, at least not across any great distance. Someone had gone to considerable effort to keep this place hidden.

"Look alive, you worms, and get these trucks unloaded!" Someone shouted. "Quickly now. And remember, these are fragile parts. You are not to break a single one!"

Hawke looked back from the pipe to see a big man with a shaved head and impressive black beard barking orders. The truck drivers and the transport crews were the current object of his ire, but he soon turned to the soldiers who had arrived in the two SUVs.

"The rest of you are with Scorpion. For those who have not been here before –" The bearded man glanced at Hawke with a sneer – "You will not speak of what you see tonight to anyone, or else Scorpion will have your tongue. Is this understood?"

"Yes, sir!" Hawke joined the chorus of replies.

"Good. Then go!"

The five of them fanned out to form a protective circle around Scorpion, who had watched all this in silence. At the warlord's direction they left the parking area, walking not down the road, but rather along a simple gravel path heading in the opposite direction. There was no one waiting for them ahead; only the looming mass of the pipe, but Scorpion marched on undeterred. It seemed they still had some way to go before reaching their ultimate destination. Soon the path came alongside the pipeline. From there the two ran parallel almost to the edge of the ravine, separated only by a security fence. As the group walked, they passed a section of pipe marred by one of the huge seams that had proven such a hindrance during the Second Great War. Behind his linen headscarf, Hawke's lip curled in faint amusement. Some things never changed.

After that, the trail split from the pipe. Scorpion directed them to take the gravel path leading into the mountains, while below the ravine widened into a small valley, sheltered by rock formations on all sides. The pipe itself plunged into the valley and was lost to sight as they moved through the rocky outcrops, following the winding trail higher and higher. Before long the group came to an observation post nestled amongst the crags. It was little more than a metal platform built upon a flat section of rock, but Hawke judged it would command a decent view of whatever lay below. What was more, the observation post was already occupied. Another four Black Hole soldiers were stationed on the platform, standing in formation around a short figure who was looking out across the valley with his hands clasped behind his back.

A crackle of tortured sound burst from Scorpion's mask as he saw who awaited them. With a flick of his shawl the warlord strode ahead, his two lead guards hurrying to keep up.

"What is the meaning of this?" He demanded, the irritation in his distorted voice obvious. "You were not supposed to be here."

"And you, dear boy, are late," the short man retorted, turning to face Scorpion. "You should have arrived an hour ago, so I wouldn't be too eager to go throwing accusations about if I were you."

Hawke stayed back as the rest of the group reached the overlook, studying the man who had come to greet them. He made for a peculiar sight. He was a hunched and pale old man, bald on top with a shock of hair dyed a sickly green, and a large double chin hanging beneath his rotund jowls. He wore a lab coat in the style of a scientist or doctor, although his was not white in colour, but rather a drab black. A plum waistcoat and red bow tie completed the unusual ensemble. If Hawke had not known better, he would have assumed he was looking at some kind of clown.

As it happened, Hawke did know better. The old man was a disgraced doctor who went by the name of Toad; a brilliant medical researcher, but one whose work had left a trail of dead bodies in his wake. Hawke was not privy to the exact details, but he knew that Toad had gone into hiding after the extent of his crimes was discovered, forced to continue his experiments in secret. It was not difficult to imagine how such a man had fallen into Black Hole's orbit from there. For a doctor, he showed a remarkable lack of morals, along with total contempt for any ethical considerations. Those same qualities had made him one of Sturm's most valuable contacts, and Hawke had met Toad on several occasions when Black Hole's former master was in need of a medical expert. Hawke even suspected that their association predated his own recruitment by Sturm. 

Toad had never before played a part in any military operations, however, although he had demonstrated more familiarity with them than one would expect of an ordinary doctor. So what had changed that he was here representing the interests of the Black Hole Army?

"I was told I would be meeting with your Commander Flare," Scorpion continued, still audibly frustrated. "I did not come here to waste time on empty words with you. Flare is the one whose orders we follow, and there is much I would speak with her about."

Flare. Hawke made note of the name, but this one he did not recognise.

"Flare is busy," Toad said.

"Busy?" The word came out in a hiss. "Busy with what?"

"Well, that's not really your concern now, is it? Suffice it to say that something more important required her attention."

"And what could be more important than our glorious purpose?"

Toad's eyes narrowed. For several seconds he simply stared at Scorpion, making no effort to hide his displeasure. Hawke could almost see his mind ticking over, calculating how easy it would be to again dismiss the warlord's questions.

Eventually Toad let out a long sigh and assumed a look of bored disdain, apparently deciding it was easier to offer some explanation. 

"In case you haven't noticed, the situation abroad is evolving rapidly," he said, his voice heavy with condescension. "Therefore, our approach must be flexible. We must adapt to circumstances as they arise. To that end, Flare is on a mission of her own, one that will guarantee events continue to unfold in a way that benefits us. Only once that task is complete will she be travelling to this rotten cesspit of a country to oversee your preparations. In the meantime –" here Toad coughed briefly – "I am in command."

"You?" Scorpion did not sound pleased about that. "You are a messenger. An errand boy. What do you know of our operation?"

"What do I –" Toad cut himself off, his jowls quivering with indignation. "Do you take me for a fool? I was overseeing military matters when you were no more than a bawling infant, so there will be no questioning of my qualifications."

"This is not a hospital or a laboratory," Scorpion said. "There are no sick to treat here, doctor, no diseases for you to play with. You are out of your depth. This is my country, my home. I know what is required here, better than you ever could, and I am the one who should be in command."

There were murmurs of assent from several members of Scorpion's escort. Hawke did not join them. He had no wish to call attention to himself, not while Toad was so near.

"Ridiculous," Toad muttered. "Absolutely ridiculous. To think that a man of my standing should be questioned by some backwater barbarian."

"And why should I not question you?" Scorpion threw his arms wide as if daring Toad to take up the challenge. "Who are you to give me orders in my own land?"

"Who am I? Who am I, you ask? Bah!"

Toad scowled and waved his arm as if to brush off the challenge. He then turned away from Scorpion and began to pace the width of the platform, clasping his hands behind his back again. 

"I am the foremost medical mind of my generation. I am a man of incredible intellect, preeminent in my field, and renowned the world over for my triumphs! Do you have any idea what I've accomplished? What my research will do for mankind? No. Of course not. Ignorance is the lot of simple minds like yours, thinking only in terms of guns and bombs. There are far more powerful forces at work in this world, dear boy, and you'd do well to remember that I am their master."

Scorpion did not reply to that, although it was impossible to say whether his silence was borne of anger or simply of sheer disbelief. The rest of his guards exchanged a few uncertain glances as they tried to decide what to make of this bizarre outburst. For his part, Hawke was not entirely surprised by it. This was not the first time he had listened to Toad rant about his unmatched genius, his mastery of life and death, and most of all, how horribly unappreciated he was by the world. It seemed time had not done the doctor's mental state any favours.

"I assure you, I am more than capable of overseeing this menial work," Toad continued, "and I have been fully briefed on the situation here. Speaking of which –" He stopped pacing to shoot a withering glare at Scorpion – "you're behind schedule."

Scorpion shifted at that, pulling away from Toad and crossing his arms beneath the great shawl he wore.

"There have been some minor delays," he admitted. "Some of my associates have proven… reluctant to provide the sheer amount of resources we need."

"Minor delays?" Toad's eyebrows shot up. "Is that what you call them? There are two whole shipments that should have been here by now. Our manufacturing line has come to a standstill, which means our plans are at a standstill. What do you have to say about that, eh?"

"There is no cause for concern," Scorpion said firmly. "I have made it clear to any holdouts that to refuse my demands is to invite my fury. Soon we shall have all the materials we need, and more."

"Will we?" Toad asked, evidently unimpressed.

"That is what I said," Scorpion snarled, the words ragged with distortion. "And so it is the truth. My men are fully prepared to take what we need by force."

Toad grunted. "They'd better be." He then paused, his expression becoming more thoughtful. "If you're not up to the task, I suppose we can always have the cyborg eliminate any particularly stubborn fools."

"That will not be necessary."

"Well, we'll see about that, won't we?"

This last statement was followed by a nasty little smile. Scorpion said nothing, but beneath his heavy shawl, Hawke noticed his gloved hands were clenched into fists. No one watching the exchange could dispute that Toad had come off the better on this particular point. It was not easy to project strength whilst defending a failure, although Scorpion was certainly trying.  

"One way or another, Flare wants production back at full capacity within a week," Toad went on. "See that it's done, and don't make too much of a fuss about it. The less the wretched allies know about what's going on here, the better."

"I know what is required of me, and how it must be done," Scorpion hissed. "Or have you forgotten that I am the one who has been advancing our ends here for two years now?" Another burst of twisted sound came from his filter. "Perhaps your memory is not what it once was."

Behind his headscarf, Hawke almost smiled. This incessant bickering and posturing did neither Toad nor Scorpion any favours. True power had no need to assert itself so aggressively.

"Don't try my patience, whelp," Toad said, his scowl growing still more bitter. "You'll do as you're told, and that's an end to it."

"And you," Scorpion said, "should not question my commitment to our cause."

Toad rolled his eyes and turned away, walking to the edge of the platform with a shake of his head.

"If you'd been paying attention," he remarked, "you'd know I never questioned your commitment. Only your ability and your intelligence."

Scorpion took a step forward. The Black Hole soldiers standing guard shifted and raised their weapons in response. Scorpion lifted his empty hands in a gesture of peace, but when he spoke again, his voice was as cold as the desert night.

"You should be careful how you speak to me, old man," he breathed. "Men who do not respect strength do not last long in this country."

Toad glanced over his shoulder. His lip twitched and once more those great jowls quivered, but this time Hawke saw unease in his eyes.

"Bah!" He said again. "This is pointless. You know who I answer to. Who we all answer to. There is no greater strength in this world than Black Hole, and we must each of us play the parts we are commanded to play. To do otherwise would prove most... unpleasant."

Scorpion's head inclined, indicating his assent. "On that much, we are agreed."

Now this was an intriguing boast, and Hawke doubted it could be entirely spurious. There had been little strength left in Black Hole after the wars in Macro Land and Omega Land, but Toad and Scorpion spoke as if those devastating defeats had hardly been a setback at all. To call Black Hole the greatest power in the world was doubtless an exaggeration, but it was nonetheless becoming clear that the group still possessed substantial resources. As for who it was they answered to, Hawke could only guess. Perhaps this mysterious Flare, although Toad's veiled threat did not seem to align with the way they had spoken of her earlier.

Hawke did not waste time trying to unravel that particular enigma. Without more information, there was simply no point. Besides, if Toad was telling the truth, Flare would be travelling to Brown Nebula soon enough. When she arrived, with any luck Hawke would have the chance to observe her for himself, and determine her part in whatever was happening here. Even if Flare was not the leader of Black Hole, perhaps she could lead him to whoever was truly behind all this unrest.

"I will make sure that the issues in our supply chain are resolved," Scorpion was saying. "We have brought with us the next batches of optical sights and computer chips. My men are unloading them as we speak. As for the other shipments, you have my word they will resume within a matter of days."

"See that they do," Toad replied. "I shouldn't have to remind you that we need all the equipment we can get our hands on. This farce has gone on quite long enough already."

The insult hung in the air for several seconds, but this time, Scorpion chose to ignore the jibe.

"It will be done," he said, "in the name of our great destiny."

"Yes, yes. Off with you, then."

Toad turned away again, his attention shifting to whatever lay in the valley below. Scorpion, it seemed, was dismissed, and Hawke was left with no doubt that for all his bluster, Scorpion lacked the power to challenge Black Hole, much less dictate its policy. The warlord was as difficult to read as ever as he signalled his men to depart, but Hawke felt sure Scorpion was aware of that fact as well. The greater mystery was why he was so convinced that Black Hole shared his ends. Surely a few Neotanks were not enough to buy such loyalty.

The group began to leave, departing the observation post in single file. It was then that Hawke decided the time was right to take a chance. He lingered towards the back of Scorpion's group, letting the others begin the descent first. Then he took several steps towards the platform's edge, craned his neck forward to see all he could beyond, and pulled away again. It was calmly done, as if he were simply being attentive in his duties and surveying the area. The Black Hole soldiers watched him move, but said nothing, and with his back turned Toad did not notice at all. It took only the space of a few seconds and then Hawke was away, walking down the mountainside to catch up with the others as if his little detour had been no more than a routine and unremarkable action.

Behind his headscarf, Hawke's expression was pensive as he descended along the trail. He had taken only a brief moment to imprint what he saw in the valley in his mind, but that had been enough. Another man might not have recognised what they were looking at. The massive structure had been well disguised, built into the rock face of the surrounding mountains and camouflaged from above with more scaffolding and sand. Even so, there was no mistaking what he had seen. Hawke knew such buildings too well. One of them had even served as his command centre during one of the greatest battles in recent history.

No, he thought, those three great doors could belong to nothing else. Secreted away in the depths of the desert was a Black Hole factory.