Sovreign PT1

Ch 1



Karenna Siorte was the best human star fighter pilot in the galaxy. And, for one of the few living aces, she had a very clouded past. Having been raised in the most prestigious orphanage and tutored by the best, she was either destined to fail epically or exceed everyone’s wildest expectations. However, none of those people knew much about her antiquity; heck, even she didn’t know where she had come from. The only thing she ever learned was that her parents had apparently been lost on some secret government mission, and some politician of the time had taken pity on the cherry headed orphan. As such, she was officially adopted by the government, and reminded of it constantly, as a way of pushing her past the limits of everyone else.

Sometimes being the best, though, sucked. Every time a long mission came up, she was picked to go. Now, like a billion times before, she glided through the black velvet of space on an approach to some hole of a star system on the edge of civilized space, while the rest of the carrier group loitered near Ytterbium prime, a watery resort world that was the envy of the galaxy. This was supposed to be a simple deep-scan run to verify data that was probably faulty anyway. They had received word of a base with weapons of mass destruction being established on this rock. But, there was nothing even remotely interesting about this sphere.

“Another trip to a useless system. And everyone else gets a sun tan.” She sighed manipulating the controls to begin the useless scan, “Hopefully this won’t take forever like last time.”

Proxima was an improved 6th gen recon fighter, a RFA12I, designed for comfort during long range missions, yet still almost as agile as an attack fighter. Karenna had even convinced one of the techs to install a station to put her personal data pad so she could go over reports and stuff while on her many missions, that and play music.

As she scanned the sector, she listened to her favorite songs to break up the tedium. It was not helping this time. She had, once again, neglected her meds, and she felt extremely nauseated. How was she to know she would do a long recon today? She closed her emerald eyes and leaned her head back, breathing deeply, trying to alleviate the waves of dizziness.

After almost an eternity, the computer chirped at her, “Ugh, finally, it’s done!” she sighed, “Hey, here’s a surprise, no one else had been in this system for at least a year, and there is absolutely no sign of habitation.”

Grumpily she secured the scans, and her playlist, and opened a Channel back to her carrier group.

"Recon fighter Proxima, to Carrier Taurus," she groggily announced to space, "I think we had a false lead. Returning home."

"Confirm report.” Came an immediate response from one of the many com-operators she didn’t care to know, “Commodore didn't think there was anything there, but you know the brass likes concrete proof of nothing.”

Normally it would have taken a moment to get a response. But as all the single men on the ship had the hots for her, it did not surprise Karenna that he had been waiting with his finger on the mike’s key.

“Proxima, you have been granted clearance for landing bay two, at the rendezvous op point hotel, we’re cutting the trip short, there is whispers of unrest at Haven.” he announced as if she didn’t know the plans, then he added as an afterthought, “By the way, I was walking by med div, and guess what, a package came in, doc'l have it for you when you land."

Even though a patient’s medical history was supposed to be a secret, she had been getting the same pills for as long as she could remember. It was well known that she had a permanent prescription of very expensive pharmaceuticals.

With dozens of species, each with different environmental requirements, in order for some of them to survive in ‘galactic environmental standards’, they had to have special considerations. For that reason, it was not uncommon for them to rely on drugs, some like hers, to live, some of those pharmaceuticals were downright rare. Which is why teleconferences were the preferred method of galactic diplomacy. Yet, even Karenna’s doctor did not know where, or even what her meds are. The exact prescription was apparently a state secret. Yet, the bottle always arrived right on time, like clockwork, via special courier. And the few times she tried to stop taking the drugs, like today, she was not happy with the result.

“Copy that, Taurus.” She rolled her eyes in annoyance, “Will arrive at rendezvous in about 2 hours. Out.”

With space empty of threats for parsecs, and two hours to make an hour and a half trip, Karenna opted for a low energy turnabout. Halfway through the maneuver, jumpgates opened all around her.

“Damn! Fucking, opsec!” she cursed as she brought her engines to full power, “Always act as if you have orange forces.”

The engines protested their sudden strain as she started evasive maneuvers on auto pilot, even though the enemy was not in visual yet.

“Omega theta omega,” She called into her radio, “Pilot in distress!”

She could not get a hold of anyone. It seemed the enemy had started jamming her signal right after she ended her report. As soon as they were through the jumpgates, they lashed out with low energy weapons aimed at propulsion and other non-vital equipment.

Despite years of training, she could not out maneuver these people, they definatly weren’t human. She might have been able to take them one on one, at twenty to one even a kelborne couldn’t win. Maybe they were kelborne? In short order she was disabled and drifting dead in space. Only her jump drive was full power, but no one would risk a jump under these circumstances…

"Fighter Proxima." the com boomed, "I lead Touron's dagger. We want you alive, but if that is not possible, dead will suffice."

She couldn’t believe it, "What the hell did I did I do to deserve this?" she demanded into her mike as she tumbled through the vacuum.

"For reasons you do not know, and cannot comprehend," Karenna was certain she could hear the other sneering, "You threaten the Mistrisai. As such, you cannot live unless it is with us. We can't have you as an enemy."

Keeping up with all the different governments was difficult for even a diplomat. But even a school child knew of the dangerous Mistrisiai. Though no one she knew had ever met them in person, they were widely regarded to be the most beautiful, dangerous, and deadly race in the cosmos, and they had tails. As the almost pleasant voice finished she saw it. Her one chance to escape. She only hoped that she would live through the exodus.

Karenna hit the jump override button as she declared, "You shall not impress me into service!"

Then she was gone through a barely detectable hole in their net. Such a jump, a blind jump, is the most dangerous thing that one can attempt, there have been no recorded occurrences of it succeeding. When one travels faster than light, even the smallest irregularity was epically dangerous. There were only certain places, space lanes outside planetary zones, one could jump without hours of calculations, and even a seasoned spacefarer would double check that.

***

Even though the bridge of the star carrier Taurus was big, there was so much equipment that it felt a bit cramped. The various stations were situated around a central volumetric display, VMD, which depicted the local parsecs in real time 3D. During quiet times, less than half the stations were manned, a full manning only ever occurred during battle stations.

The evening watch team went through their routines as if on autopilot, there was nothing in the night orders that demanded very much attention. Natalia Faris in the piloting/navigation station faced her assortment of screens showing engine and track status and away from the central VMD, the lone station in this configuration. Her ebony hair was still moist from the shower and was tied back loosely. She was splitting her attention between the duty screens, and her data pad chatting with a friend down in the hangar decks.

At the engineering plant monitoring station, senior tech specialist Wilson Coolidge tracked past engine performance seeking to optimize the plant. His buzzed blond hair showed his commitment to professionalism. But even he was fighting fatigue.

The weapons crewmen, doubling as sensor sweet officer, against regulations, had earphones in and was listing to his favorite playlist. His dark brown hair was barely in regs, but he never claimed to be a lifer. He was only here to play with guns and earn a paycheck.

Steven Paris, at the comms station, could think of nothing better to do than scrub through channels, so he just dozed.

“Commodore on deck!” the conning officer announced suddenly, stoping their respective strolls around the VMD.

The crew snapped to full consciousness as the officer of the deck and conning officer saluted smartly. The two officers on this team were the junior officer of the deck (JOOD) Greg Smithy, who was learning how to be a conning officer from his senior, the officer of the deck, Felicia Davis.

“At ease, you two.” Commodore Dietrich dismissed tiredly, “Any updates before I retire for the evening?”

The Commodore was relatively young for a carrier group commander, his jet black hair only beginning to grey. The other officers were also very young though, fresh from the academy, such officers usually did pull the boring watches such as these to get their feet wet.

Lt. Felicia Davis, the permed hazel haired officer of the deck consulted her data pad quickly before replying, “All escort fighters have been relieved, flotilla commanders report all conditions normal, the Captain has also completed his pre-retiring rounds, all shore leave participants are back, and special recon has reported all clear.”

“Good, officer of the deck, get a report of Proxima’s ETA.”

While he could get the information directly, he was standing right beside the com station, doing so, he would effectively take over command of the shift, not an appropriate thing unless in a combat scenario.

“Com officer, report.” Davis called out.

“Ma’am, Proxima reports she will rendezvous at op point hotel in two hours.”

After the almost pointless passing on of information, the commodore nodded, “Good, make preparations for standard jump, and execute when ready, we don’t need to loiter here any longer.” 

CH 2



In theory, one jump can take you all the way across the galaxy. On could go forever with no problems, up until you run into a celestial body, then you're in trouble. Her jump was less than a microsecond, but she still made it thousands of light-years. As soon as she was back in normal space she was pummeled by a micrometer shower.

Because her shields and other defenses were down, it was not long before she was in a swan dive toward the ancient planet above. However, due to the distances involved the dive was in slow motion. It would take forever to get to atmosphere, and there was nothing she could do from in her cockpit but wait and watch.

She gazed at the star scape for a time trying to figure out where in the galaxy she was, given the infinite amount of stars and angles, it was like picking out a specific hair on a particular zebra while it raced with it’s herd across the savanna; possible, but very unlikely for a person.

Eventually she gave up on where, she decided to focus on what. She gazed at the planet above forever, hoping that it provided at least a little bit of a clue. She had never seen it before, yet it was somehow familiar. As she fell, she felt a twinge of nostalgia that could not be placed. It was like the planet was welcoming her home.

She sat silently as the atmosphere rocked the craft. As the hull temperature rose she stayed cool. As the surface features became pronounced she prepared to eject. Moments before she would have touched down she hit the orange button on the seat base between her legs.

She crashed through the canopy that should have popped harmlessly off. But, the shoot deployed without a problem, so she would at least still be alive when she landed.

She remained conscious long enough to see the limb of the skyscraper tree rush her, then the pain made it through the adrenaline and she passed out wondering how long it would take the rescue team to find her.

***

The sun was sinking toward the canopy as Elex tracked his dinner through the crest of the foliage of the enormous jungle. For his entire life he had been alone; his only companion was a volumetric medical program that had taken care of him since before he could remember. Other than food, he had no care in the world.

This was a young biped with wings. Not unusual for his species, the Kelborne, or more specifically his clan, his form was more feline than human. He sported short yellowish hair with spots of darker brown. He had great speed, there was not an animal he tracked that could out run him on a straight stretch, but in the jungle evasion served his prey well.

This vast world was, so far as he could tell from his forays as far from the great tree as he cared to go, only a jungle. The trees were huge, some so immense that one could spend all day walking around one trunk; if one were to fall from the top, one could fall for days.

The hunt was going well, Elex anticipated he would eat well tonight. He turned at the rustling of leaves in the great canopy of the skyscraper trees he was in. Having always been the dominate predator, he had no idea what would try to sneak up on him. The world usually talked, whispered to him, about his surroundings; now it was unusually silent. Distracted, he abandoned his prey to approach the noise.

Before he got close, the sources of the disturbance erupted from the branches. From six directions they converged on him, bipedal winged brutes. Other than being lizards, they were like him, not of the wingless masters.

There were tales of before the sky reigned of fire. He was told that the masters came to teach his people the ways of their science magic. They came from beyond the sky to teach his people to fully harness their multiple forms, even though the masters only had one form, and they had no wings. The price, Elex learned, was their sovereignty, their soles. The masters had stolen his people from their world, leaving him alone with only his medix to guide and teach him.

Now, others had returned, and for reasons unknown to him, were now chasing him. They hunted him in their beast forms, a form he seldom used. Though this second form was stronger than the first, it was more bestial, more savage. The longer one spent in the second form, the less able to think clearly than in their first form. And one that does not think, gets killed, the whispers as well as Galen, his medic, continually impressed upon him.

The winged lizards closed in on him, fear bubbled to the surface of his mind. In his fear he began to morph, he was turning into a winged jaguar. Short furs sprouted all over his body, his muscles pulled on his bones painfully to reshape his body to a form more closely resembling a bipedal jaguar.

As the change overtook his body, he began to lose the ability to think, every thought became cloudy. Yet, a few questions echoed clearly in his mind: why had the masters rained fire on his world? Why had they taken his kin and abandoned the world? Were they behind this too? And why what his world silent?

He had seldom flew, despite his great golden wings. In his life of solitude, it had never been necessary, but as the bush ahead rustled and an arm reached out to grab him, he knew it was time. As the other arm of the enemy came down on him he took to the air, knocking back five of attackers.

As he rose above the canopy one sight burned into his brain. A single, gigantic ball of fire was approaching the ground. Time seemed to stand still as the ball sank toward the green horizon. As soon as he realized what was happening, he turned in midair to try to get away.

No matter how fast he beat his mighty wings, he could not move fast enough. As if in the worst dream imaginable, he could not get away. The wall of fire approached inching toward him. His hunters abandoned their quarry and went their separate way, falling behind, to be swallowed by the fire. As he saw the wall of flame approach his back, he dropped into the leaves, hoping that the mighty trees would shield him from the brunt of the fire. When the concussion wave finally hit, he was out of the incineration radius, but he was still knocked cold.

***

Every long range capital ship had a fleet coordination room. The Taurus’ was rather large, as it was on a star carrier. Screens ringed the room and were stacked all the way to the overhead. Currently the commanding officers of his flotilla were displayed sitting at their respective desks on board their own ships.

Dietrich sat at his own desk in the middle of the room with Captain Hawthorn, the direct CO of the Taurus, in his own desk to his right.

“I’m surprised,” Captain Colleen Garden, of the destroyer Styx, scoffed, “I thought we’d spend a little more time looking for your pet.”

Colleen was a late middle aged woman that had been passed over for advancement several times, including becoming the commodore of this little fleet. Her flight uniform was clean and serviceable, her rank insignia shined and proudly worn, the only part of the uniform that was carefully tended to.

She resented his quick climb up the ladder more than the others in this group, and didn’t care who knew it. Dietrich knew and didn’t care, so long as she did her job and followed orders. But sometimes it was tiresome.

“Captain Garden,” The commodore sighed, “There is no need to be obnoxious, if you have something to say, say it.”

“Fine, Siorte has followed you to every command you have had since she left flight school, and you were a lt. commander on the Olympus.” She harrumphed, “People talk, Sir.”

“You are aware, Madam Captain,” Commander Perseus Thane, CO of the frigate defiance spoke up, “That Siorte has scored the highest on every independently administered test from Sol sector, and she has routinely been sent on the more dangerous, and longest runs…”

Perseus was a capable commander that really had no ambition other than be the best CO in the fleet, his crews repeatedly out preformed others in every aspect of inspections, he had ‘Admiral’s finest’ 10 years in a row, the only ships CO that had such a record. He was always willing to give the benefit of the doubt, so long as it didn’t hurt his track record. His uniform was meticulously maintained and his black hair perfectly in standards.

“Commander Thane,” Colleen sneered, “You are out of line…”

“No, Garden you are.” Dietrich groaned, “Keep your personal feelings in check. The fact is, we have done our due diligence and we were unable to locate our lost pilot. You should be glad my “pet” is gone…”

“Sir,” crackled the Taurus’ internal comms array, “I apologize for the interruption, but, but Rear Admiral Dunbar, Sol Sector, is deman, requesting an immediate tie in…”

“Do it Lt.”

One of the extra screen sets went staticy and the rear admiral now dominated the room, “I have just been forwarded your report on your missing pilot.”

“Uh, yes Sir, we were discussing our next stop on our patrol of the Asclepius cluster…”

“No, you are not.” The man stated simply, the eyes of every CO widened with shock, “Carrier Group Sea Dragon will be taking over the patrol, you are to remain on station in the Dracon Uredai sector and await the arrival of Admiral Yamoto, who will spear head the search for Siorte.”

“Sir, with respect, I know every life is precious, but she is just one pilot…” Captain hawthorn spoke up.

“I understand your point, Captain, but the council had made a decision to be more active in the recovery of our pilots, probably a PR stunt, all you have to do is follow orders, Sol Sector, out.”

With that the looming presence was gone. The COs were quiet, not certain how to handle the new orders. Clearly something else was going on, but they had no idea what, and none would be the first to say something.

“Well,” Dietrich sighed, standing up, “I guess we’re done here. Maintain escort positions and keep fliers out on 6 hour watches, Hawthorn, return to high polar orbit to prevent our wakes from disturbing the scene.”

***

The landing pad was empty save the long range fighters that just landed. The canopies opened and 20 of the finest looking women climbed out and moved to meet at the edge of the pad where the entrance to an underground city waited.

These were sisters of the Mistrisai, the last of the free female Kelborne. Unlike the males of their species, they looked entirely human, save the addition of tails, and ‘cat’ ears. Every species in the galaxy knew of their beauty and grace, and few could beat them in single combat.

Just before a brunette was about to enter the city, the lone blond, taller than the other women grabbed the other’s tail and yanked, hard.

“What do you want, mute?”

The others gasped, though their sister was more than capable of understanding the spoken word, it was considered a curtesy to use signs around her.

The blond signed her response angrily, “You were not the one to request the Red Main come with us, Sarita.”

“Oh, I waited for you to deliver the message, but, you were strangely silent…”

The blonde put her elbow to the face of the other. Like other blonds of her species, she could control electricity, and she used that ability to severally char the other’s skin. Ground started to rumble, the ‘bending’ of ground was the ability of brunettes. Sarita was pissed, but she knew she could not match the other’s power.

“My communicator was sabotaged,” The mute signed, “What are the odds that I check security feeds and find you snipped some wires?"

“I’d say pretty good, Khana.” Sarita harrumphed, the ground stopped shaking, “Do you really think your way with words would have convinced her?”

“It was not your decision to make.” Khana signed before storming off to the sound of a thunder clap. 

CH 3

Coming too, Elex’s head hurt with a fire he had not known in his life. After struggling to get his bearings, he began his long journey home, to the sacred, ancient tree. As he limped in pain, in his normal form, a new smell piqued his interest. Though mixed with a thousand different smells and the acrid odor of the fires, it was the most wondrous scents he had ever smelled. The whispers of the world enticed him further; he was meant to see what was there. Though in great pain, he knew he had to figure out what that was.

Cautiously and slowly he approached the great limb from which the wondrous fragrance originated. Flitting up carefully he peeked from behind a branch bundle. The scene that greeted him was like nothing he had ever witnessed.

Dangling from one of the higher branches, connected to a large orange sheet by ropes, was a chair with a wingless person. From his studies, he learned that those without wings were female, or of the masters at least. The long red hair of the woman was in a tangle of blood that was clotting and sticking to her face.

After careful examination, he arched his fingers, and claws emerged from his fingertips. Quickly, he swept them across the restraints holding the person to the strange metal chair.

“No tail,” He observed, “I though the masters would look, different. And definitely not smell so good.”

Tenderly he lifted her up and held her close, her scent was intoxicating. Pain faded as his mind was filled with wonder, he shivered in excitement. With her in his arms he only knew that Galen would know what to do, Galen was made for this.

***

The chamber was huge, stone walls rose with sconces emitting electric light programmed to look like fire. The echoing compartment floors slopped downward toward a raised dias. Since the so called “masters”, (hailing from Teris) ripped them from their word, and they rebelled, they kept to themselves, not trusting the outside world. This was the clandestine council hall of the Mistrisai, the ruling body of the free female Kelborne.

Within this space, designed for 36 dragons to comfortably commune, a single humanoid figure waited on the central stage. The throne she was seated on was of stone, and rose from the floor as a single piece. She was tall, and other than her tail, could be mistaken for terin. Echoing steps sounded as another entered the chamber, the tall athletic blond ceremoniously came to a stop with a bow. Though her anger was still lava, Khana would not do anything to offend the council woman that had supported her and her quest for power to take on the old masters.

"You say you were unable to enlist the help of the Red Main?" Inquired the seated elder sign as well as speech, as her platinum hair fluttered in unfelt wind.

"I was not free to communicate with her.” Returned Khana with sign, “Sarita sabotaged my equipment, Milady."

Rehna, the elder nodded, Sarita did not like having to follow her mute superior. She was probably trying to gain favor with the Mistrisai, too bad she knew nothing of politics.

"You said she was given the choice to join or die, and then she escaped, how?"

The other signed in anger, "Sarita! She was not in her assigned position in the net formation. The Red Main used this and blind jumped to evade us."

"So she is dead?" Asked Rhena as she sighed and turned.

The blond stomped, then shook her head and signed, "Even I can feel the death of a sister, I did not feel hers. In fact, I may have felt Home welcome her.”

Home was the planet they were stolen from, lost to the memories of the masters that never wanted them to return. The thought of one of their sisters returning Home was almost relieving. After a moment the elder inhaled and exhaled deeply.

She then smiled, "Good. She is the last of her clan not corrupted by the masters, even if it is because she was tricked to believing she is human. She must be shown the light so she does not fall, and fuel the war between the humans and the Nuremar tribe."

The Arian nodded and signed defiantly, "They give all Kelborne a bad name. Just as the Masters gave humans a bad name."

"Yes, that is why this war must stop, and the more on our side the sooner it can end. I want you to personally find her, let her see what we really are and what she truly is."

***

The Bull carrier group floated in the darkness that surrounded the Kesk expanse, the last known location of Karenna. The fact that he was ordered to basically relive himself of his command until they found Karenna infuriated Dietrich. He had worked hard to be the youngest Commodore in history, and this was not good for his record.

The morning’s briefing had been a farce, but at least his senior staff realized it, and were trying to support him, even in their limited capabilities. Commodore Dietrich’s ready room was moderately sized all the furniture was purely functional.

“What the hell is going on?” asked this ship’s Senior Medical officer, Mellisa Maples as they walked in and she took a seat in the entertaining area.

“Doc, I wish I knew. But since they effectively relived me of my command, all I get from Admiral Yamoto is, Karenna is the Key.”

“Key to what?”

“I wish I knew.” He sighed and took a seat in front of the doctor, “I also wish I knew what the hell those meds she takes are.”

“You and me both…”

“You are the ranking medical officer of this squadron, you’re telling me, there are meds onboard that you do not know about?”

“So you weren’t kidding about not knowing, you’re her CO?”

“Do you think you could run a spectrum analysis on it?”

“If I had it.” She scoffed, “As soon as Yamoto’s private physician, who by the way out ranks me, and represents med-sol-sector, arrived, all of Karenna’s meds were confiscated.”

“How long has it been since there was a health and comfort of the wasp squadron’s berthing?” He asked getting up.

“Flight opps officer’s quarters are exempt from random H and C’s…”

“Not if there is a credible report of illicit materials within.” Dietrich responded, pulling a stack of papers from his desk, “Get to it.”

Mellisa’s jaw dropped as she looked over the packet, “How long have you known about this?”

“You don’t become the youngest commodore unless you know how to stack the deck and only play the cards needed.” He activated the ship’s internal announcing circuit by his desk, “C-T-I-1 Barnette, report to my ready room, now!”

“What the hell are you doing, sir?” She stood up in shock.

“Playing the cards right.” He shrugged, “That report did not come from me, you will walk out of this office, call your staff, and get them in position, then you will announce the H and C…”

The door’s chime sounded, “Go, now.” he opened the door, and the doctor excused herself, “Ah, C-T-I-1, have a seat, not there, my desk terminal.”

“Sir?” Barnette stood in shock.

“Before you deny it, I know about your little side job as an info broker.” He let the revelation sink in, “And unless you sit down at that terminal, and hack the Helena’s main computer and get every piece of information you can on Karenna, I know you’ve always wanted to, I will let some info leak. That terminal has more clearance than anything else you will work on, get to it.”

Not really certain what was going on, Barnette slowly made his way to the desk, “By the way, if you are caught, you had been called into my office to discuss your recent endeavors, and I had to leave you in here because something important came up.”

Barnette turned from the terminal, “And what would that be, Sir?”

At that moment the doctor announced the health and comfort inspection, “Drugs are always a higher ordo condescendi than misplaced movie files.”

***

Carrier groups seldom station keep in the middle of nowhere. The fact that such a massive search for one lone fighter was causing the rumor mill to work overtime.

In one of the many lounges, a couple gathered for their customary pre shift discussion. This lounge was like a 60’s diner, chrome and red leather were abundant. The pair carried their plates of food to a small booth where they sat down and had a few bites before they began.

"We've lost people on recon before," Sareena remarked to her companion, as she set her tray down, "Why so much fuss over the captain’s whore anyway?"

Sareena was a fine looking middle aged brunette with a chip on her shoulder. Four years ago her husband of twenty years died on an away mission to a super earth around Vega. She had never gotten over it. She had instead embedded herself, unbeknownst to anyone including her current companion, with a group of likeminded women that were making ripple in the empires.

"You know how it is with the military," Kobin replied sighing, "It’s not an issue until so many disappear. She just happened to be the lucky number. Besides, it’s not the commodore, some muckity muck from Sol sector…"

Like his companion, Kobin had a beef with the leadership. He had not lost anyone, but he had to do things, after which he was made a scapegoat. But he was loyal, at least he had a friend. He brushed back his short black hair, as if he needed to, and began to eat. He too, made ties with less than friendlies.

"Yah, well, why couldn't Josh have been the number."

Kobin smiled, "Because Josh had a family, Red’s is Aunt Samantha."

Sareena’s lips pursed in indignation as she threw a fry, which he caught in his mouth.

"Just trin' to lighten the mood." He defended as he took a few more bites of his pizza.

"What really sucks, is," Sareena declared as she swallowed the last of her burger, "Is that I am the one that has to find her, by piecing together all the info we are gathering."

Kobin nodded, "That does suck. But they never said you had to do it right."

She smiled, "Tempting, but I don't like answering to the green tablecloth, done it once, not my thing."

"Yah, I didn't like it either." Kobin agreed finishing his drink, "But when you're ordered to kill a high ranking somebody, you have to expect shit like that."

Sareena picked up her tray, "I have to go before I get a reminder of what happens when you don't answer the call of duty."

Kobin smiled and called after her jokingly, "Just don't do it on watch. See you next time?”

“Unless I find someone better.”