The Black

R’Ben settled into his favorite table at his favorite Cafe. A cup of steaming tea seemed to appear as the waitress brought him his usual fare for a late lunch. Smiling a quick thank you, he barely registered the very human smile full of teeth that was returned to him. His months spent at Hades station had obliterated the propaganda-induced terror he had harbored regarding these new arrivals.

His work was fulfilling. He had been given the lead on the systematic cataloguing and data mining of Quawrine’s Library. It was a brutally tedious endeavor, but their labor had been rewarded in a mountain of information on their returning Vorath enemy. The reports from both Admirals Fulmori and Stevens had proven recent modifications effective. Shield and thermal dissipation modifications had been noted as a major factor in the decisiveness of the recent engagements, but there was still much to do. He had just received the combat data from Admiral Stevens engagement just this morning and had been preparing an analysis between current and past Vorath technology and tactics.

His meal finished, R’Ben payed for it, giving a generous tip to the waitress before departing for his office. He chuckled quietly to himself every time he paid for something. Getting paid, and getting paid handsomely, was the greatest change in his life. These Humans not only valued his expertise, but also valued his freedom as much as they did their own. For the first time since he was a young adult, He was free. A flash out of the windows along his route caught his gaze as a familiar cobbled together Vorath vessel burst from subspace into the approach vectors to Hades station. The vessel was not fire upon, and quickly received a fighter escort to the Morring Grid.

A small sad smile flashed across his features. These last few months had seen Quawrine morph from master to coworker, and their carefully encrypted correspondence had been greatly useful in his team’s research efforts. His bitter sweet expression bore both the happiness of seeing a friend face to face, and the horror of what her return meant for the rest of the galaxy at large. His footsteps carried him past the corridor leading to his office, and continued toward the Shuttle arrival hangers.

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The early morning whisps of fog were quickly becoming an afterthought as Cory halted his steps and reached for the chime button. His finger never reached the button as the Door opened. Jackie stepped out adorned for her morning run, and almost ran smack into him. She gave a ‘Whoa’ in surprise before coming to a halt just outside the threshold, “Cory?!?” she gasped finally.

“Hey, I was hoping to catch you before your run.” Cory said with a small smile. He watched Jackie sober as his miserable failure to keep the turmoil in his soul from reaching his features. “Can we… talk?” Corry winced at the cliché, but it had to be said.

“Uh, sure. Come in..” Jackie said softly, leading the both of them into her planet-side flat. “What’s up” She asked, clearly bracing herself as they sat on the couch.

“I… I found a captain’s berth.” Cory began.

Jackie broke out in a broad smile, “That’s amazing!” She reached out and pulled Cory into an encapsulating hug.

Cory pulled back from her after a moment, “Jackie, It's not a freighter’s berth…” He said carefully, “Admiral Mackenzie is putting together a…. ‘Privateer’ fleet. I’m to be one of his captains.”

“Oh…” Jackie pulled back, sitting next to him again on the couch. “I see… When do you leave.”

“Soon, My ship is finishing a retrofit. I had some last minute… requests.” Cory said softly, “I don’t know how long the mission is… I wanted to come see you.. before..”

“Don’t string me along Cory. I’m a big girl, I can han…” She was interrupted by Cory pulling her in and planting a gentle peck on her lips.

“That’s not why I wanted to see you.” Cory breathed as he released Jackie, “I’m sorry it took me this long…” He looked into her gemstone eyes.

“Why now… We have no time. People don’t come home from these missions.” Jackie’s eye began glistening with unshed tears as she continued, “It’s cruel, Why now.”

“Because I’m a fool.” Cory breathed but a whisper, “Because I both want you here, someone to come home to… and want you with me…. Gods I want to take you with me.”

Jackie pulled up close to him, taking his hands in her, “I have my current berthing…” she said gently.

“That’s just it. Mac has given his captain’s choice of crew. We cannot order, but we can ask any service member we wish; and they can accept. I want to ask you Jackie, I want you with me, I want you as the head of my infirmary…but I cannot… As you say, it's near certain suic…” Cory paused as Jackie slipped into his lap, straddling him as she moved to face him. She pressed her lips before gently biting him on the bottom lip.

“Stop… I’m going with you.” Jackie whispered Huskily, holding herself in place as Cory wrapped his arms around her waist. “Cory, I am not Delmar. I need to hear it from you. What am I to you.” She whispered.

“priceless” Cory whispered back pulling her to himself once more.

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Folmuri groaned as he stood to stretch from his office chair. It was nearly 12 hours since they had begun the transfer of the civilians onto his slip capable ships. The sad realization of just how few were saved came when it only took those twelve hours to complete the transfer. “Enter”

“Admiral,” Captain Gleeson entered the office, “We are ready to jump, We are laid in for Signus.”

“But?” Folmuri asked calmly as his flag captain raised an eyebrow.

Gleeson chuckled and sat down, handing his Admiral a data pad. “We just received a weak distress beacon.. It down spin.. but deep in occupied territory. It reeks like a trap, and we have civi’s on board, but…” Captain Gleesons tone lowered to deadly seriousness, “It has Karmarin’s security code, and the proper encryption…”

Folmuri’s eyes snapped to his Flag captain, “You think…”

“I don’t know,” Gleeson said quietly, “Parts of it past the smell test, others…”

Folmuri slowly flipped through the data before answering, “Smells like a trap… I’m not doing this with civi’s on board, Contact Stevens.” Folmuri shared a knowing look with his flag captain, “Tell him we are going to need a pickup… and a plan.”

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Admiral Karmarin coughed quietly into his sleeve. Time was an elusive foe these day. Hour’s, week, months… they all blended together. The only constant, was the torture. He had managed to hide his emergency beacon, albeit in unmentionably desperate places, during his capture. The Vorath had taken his fleet by surprise, dropping out of subspace at point blank range during his desperate race toward the front lines. He had watched in Horror as his Thermian crew members rampaged through his flag ship even as the Vorath boarded.. Seeing the face of Kar, the disgraced captain, leading a hybrid Thermian/ Vorath boarding party onto the bridge of his flagship had forced the truth into his mind. The Unity had been betrayed from the inside… His surviving ships had acquitted themselves valiantly, but the sabotage was complete. The battle was over in moments, and he was dragged bodily aboard an enemy vessel. He was forced to watch on as Every non Thermian crew member of his fleet was put to the void before his surviving ships were confiscated for the Vorath war effort.

He did not know how much longer his beacon could last. It had an induction charging function, drawing power from nearby electronic sources, but they were few. The small micro beacon had a paltry life span, worse it was forced to be stored in… unsavory conditions.” The Former head admiral grunted as he passed the Beacon once more, carefully removing it from his waste. He cleaned it as thoroughly as he dared before hiding it in the rags that barely resembled the Uniform he once wore with pride. Karmarin could no longer smell himself, and it was a small blessing. His cell had no facilities.. He was forced to soil himself or attempt to isolate where he passed the remnants of the scraps, they rarely offered between bouts of tortue… These monsters were keeping him alive. He realized that the moment they ripped the poison pill from its surgically implanted in his beak. They kept him and his cell clean enough, hosing him down every few days along with his cell with ice cold water and sprayed foam. The beacon remained his only hope.. The only reason he still ate, the only reason he dared to live.

A distant grate scraped down the rancid corridor, and Karmarin suppressed the urge to purge his guts as he swallowed the beacon once again. Moments later, his hulking Vorath Jailer lumbered in, flanked by two others. Each bore a hose, one of foam, one of water.

“Time for your bath Admiral.” The last word dripped with venom as Karmarin braced for the inevitable blast of ice-cold water and acrid foam. There was very little of his plumage left, and his skin bore the oozing sores of the mild alkaline burns that his “baths” had gifted to him.

At least it would wash away the taste of the beacon.

Deep in the Caverns of the Prison Asteroid, the humiliation of the grand admiral of the UGN was being carefully observed. “He still protects that beacon. Admirable, foolish but admirable.” Centarus observed the Kawmari Officer through the data link as he spoke to the Interrogator, “I assume he has not broken?”

“He has given us very little Centarus, I would request to break his hope but…” The Jailer rumbled.

“Soon, I wish his breaking to be complete. We will wait until the beacon dies. He does not have to know we have hacked and copied its message until we crush his resolve. Feed him something.. unfortunate… tonight. Best to not keep him too comfortable. Otherwise, continue the interrogations as usual.” Centarus glanced away for a moment before returning to the conversation, “I must go,”

“Yes, Centarus. It will be done.” The Jailer responded with a salute just as the connection closed. He turned to his subordinate, “prepare the rack, we begin again at first watch.”

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Patrick woke up to a bubble of Joy glowing gently in the back of his mind as His memory slowly reconstructed the previous night’s events.

“You’re adorable when you sleep.” Came the contented purr from his chest. Patrick opened his eyes slowly to see Cammy still where he had last seen her, lying on his chest as she stared up at him with those shimmering silver eyes of hers.

Patrick pulled her up his chest, feeling her body slide against his until their lips met. He felt her desire broil a little at his actions as he released her, “So I definitely didn’t dream that.” He murmured, gently stroking the main running down her back.

“I would hope not.” She chuckled huskily back at him before kissing him on the neck with a fanged nip at the end.

Patrick let out a groan before sitting up, settling Cammy into his lap facing him, “Cam, I..”

Cammorra felt his terror. It almost overpowered her, “Hey, Patrick. Its ok. Pappa told me you would not be able to avoid this war.”

“It’s more than that. It’s the reason I went to meet Cory. Admiral Grarzia offered Him a captains berth.. on a Privateer. Where we are going, we may not come back…” Patrick whispered hoarsely.

“Tell me about this mission...” she asked gently. She knew he could feel her fear, but she continued, “I regret nothing, I simply wish to know how much I need to pack.”

“Cammy…” Patrick warned but was interrupted by a finger on his lips.

“Patrick, this has been an age old dilemma for my people. I will never be able to claim another. I will never be able to bear children with another. By custom, newly paired couples either stay on planet, or travel the void together. I share your fate now, red; and I won’t ask you to stay. I’m coming with you.” She locked Patrick in her gaze.

Patrick could feel her resolve, it scared him, but he knew she would not back down. It started to make since why the Claiming was so important to a Delmar. “I.. Ok.. Ok Camorra. I’ll tell Cory.” He pulled her into a full embrace. “I’m starving, shower then food?”

“Hmm a looong shower, then food” Cammy purred up at him with a little wiggle as he scooped her up and carried her to walk in steam shower.

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Ivar grunted and growled as he pulled hard, ripping R’Cari through an 8 Human G pull as Sombra flashed past his larboard side wing in just as hard a pull. ‘The 1 circle it is.’ He growled to himself as slammed the stick over placing his Vertical Vector on Sombra’s high six. The HUD began to fade as the G forces slowly began to rip consciousness from Ivar. He kept his breathing under control, pumping the stick to keep himself from blacking out as the two vessels danced a deadly waltz across the stars. Both fighter’s energy began to bleed off as their pilots fought for the slightest edge. Ivar saw Sombra’s nose cash in and he juked into a counter, flicking R’Cari into a mind-bending reverse pirouette as he brought his nose to bare as well. The growling fox2’s on his wingtip began to scream as they gave him “tone” and he ripped one off the rail at his opponent.

“Fuck” Martina grunted as she was forced to launch off a volley of Flares to counter the Heater that R’Cari had just lobbed her way. Each Flare was specifically tuned to her engine’s signature, giving her the best chance they could of diverting the missile from its target. It worked, after a fashion, as the missile slipped past her starboard wing by mere meters. It’s fuse detonated on the flare, missing Sombra with the main blast, but peppering her shields with shock wave and shrapnel. They flickered and rippled with the impact just as a micropac arced out with withering accuracy, melting away the remainder of her forward shields and ripping into the ablative armor just port of her cockpit. Master alarms blared as she ripped Sombra out of the line of fire, Getting her own fox2 tone in the process. She ripped her own missile off the rail and fired a burst of MAC rounds in an attempt to block off escape routes. She watched R’Cari volley off a large portion of its own countermeasures and slam into full burner just as a small portion of her MAC rounds connected on the starboard wing of the next generation Delmar Fighter. “Got you McLovin” She growled, slamming her throttles forward to complete the kill. Her twin MAC’s roared their hatred into R’Cari, ripping into its fuselage starting a roaring plasma conduit fire. R’Cari was done, and Marina was about to break off… just as R’Cari’s second Fox2 left the rail and slammed into Sombra just aft of the cockpit.

“Fuck!” Martina swore, stumbling out of the Simulator in Mac’s home just as Ivar barely crawled out of his and just lay flat on the floor, “I had you!!! I HAD you!!” She roared before flopping down on the floor next a maniacally laughing Ivar.

“You did, until you didn’t. Gods dammit, I almost blacked out in the merge, and I can handle earth 1G now…. How!!” Ivar gasped, pulling his Chika to him as they recovered from the all out brawl they had just participated in.

“Oh, I was almost gone too. The limits are where you win.” Martina gasped, “how did you get that last tone? You were out of control and on fire.”

“The Helmet Mounted Display. You were just barely in the edge of the Gimble. I got a lock just before main power failed. Had the missile spooled and targeted before I died.” Ivar groaned, finally sitting up. “I don’t think we’ve tied before. I don’t think I can go again.”

“Again! Again! Best of 3!!” The two fighter pilots turned to see young Bryton bouncing up and down holding a data pad that he had been using to watch the fight. “Unkie Ivar and Aunt Marty go again!!” he chanted excitedly.

“How bout you try it little man” Ivar chuckled, playfully ruffling the young boys hair.

“He can’t quite reach the pedals, yet.” Mac mused as he walked into the room, “You two are terrifying. I’m pretty sure the DDF is screwed this time. They barely survived you in the last exercise.”

“Naw, Lyrian’s been training them well. They can’t pull like 303, but they have been developing some more “boom and zoom” tactics against us. I don’t wanna talk about their Beyond visual range skills…” Ivar put in standing finally, and only just a little bit wobbly. Martina simply sat cross legged on the floor, only to be promptly accosted by an effervescently excited Bryton. Tris and Lyrian were out getting pampered at the salon, and young Jason was currently suffering from an acute case of Milk Coma.

“That’s good. It makes what I must ask you easier” Mac said soberly before picking up young Bry and tickling the boy under the arms, “But that’s for later. You wanna help your old man start the smoker? The Gruvarett’s been curing long enough, and I’ve got a rump roast thawed”

“Ya!! I get the lighter this time?” Bryton jumped up and down.

Mac Laughed, “Sure, without the bouncing though. Let’s keep your main intact, or mamma’s gonna be mad.” He scooped up the boy and returned to Ivar and Martina, “You guys are welcome of course!”

“Are you kidding, you never have to tell me twice, Marty?” Ivar asked.

“Oh hell yea, did you use the Marinade I made for you?” Martina gave a mildly stern look to Mac, ruined by her small mischievous smirk.

“Are you kidding? I’ve been saving it just for this. It’s been soaking all week.” Mac confirmed.

Soon the smoker was ready, and Bryton managed to not singe anything in the process. The meat went on just in time for Lyrian to get home with Tris and wake up Jason for another bottle. Tris had taken to baking and was furiously working on the batter for some sort of bight pink cupcake mix. Lyrians mastery of the kitchen created a whirlwind of meticulous precision that ended with all of the sides, and the cupcakes, completed just as the roasts were being pulled from the smoker.

The meat was divine, almost melting off of the utensils with every bite, Lyrian had paired the delicacy with a traditional Spanish rice recipe that She had borrowed from Martina to go with the marinade. Everyone of course had to have one of Tris’ cupcakes to finish off the meal. Soon the little ones were put to bed and a bottle of Human Single malt Scotch was cracked open for the evening.

“So, Boss. What is this all about.” Ivar asked finally, savoring the incredibly strong but smooth beverage.

Mac took a sip before nodding to something internally, “My people have a tradition in warfare that this part of the galaxy has not seen before. Humanity has always fought on the backs of their logistical supply lines. That is not new to Unity space. What is new, is that Humanity has a long history of actively attacking enemy supply lines… not just enemy troops. We do not believe in fighting fairly, we never have. To that end I have been given a task. I am to raise an espionage and insurgency fleet. We will be going deep into Vorath occupied Zones. Our mission is to slow them down by almost any means necessary. Obviously, killing innocents knowingly is going to be off the table, even if I was authorized to do so.” Mac began firmly. “I have most of my captains. They have picked most of their crews save a few last-minute requests. However, I miss one crucial piece. Marty will understand this the most, but I’ll explain it to you Ivar since you did not experience my people’s civil war. I need pilots capable of doing what I did during that War. I need Deep space interdiction. I need starship assassins. I need scouts that can become The Black itself and tell me everything I need to bring the Vorath war machine to its knees.”

Martina sucked in a breath of air, and Ivar raised an eyebrow at her as he felt the anticipation mixed with trepidation through their link. “Is this why you gave me Sombra.. and Ivar R’Cari.” She whispered finally

“Yes and No.” Mac explained, taking a second sip of Scotch, “My original plan was for a small force, using ships based off of the two of yours, to do this to the pirate syndicates. Same mission, different foe. More vessels are being made, and I will have Concord with me should you need another vessel. Concord, however, was always designed to fly with two. Quite frankly, even with the upgraded AI Wizzo, solo combat in Concord is still much closer to Suicide than I would like to admit. Admiral Trenton has grounded her to the reserve until Jason is old enough to wean. I would train with a new model ship, but there are simply none ready.” Mac shook his head, “It would not work anyway. What I have to say next is very important. And it goes above top secret. Very few outside of this room know this. R’Cari and Sombra are designed to fly under alpha synce… with each other.”

“Madre’” Martina breathed before looking at Ivar then back at Mac, “That’s why we were allowed to try the codex.”

“Not my call, but yes. Your bond will become much deeper than you can possibly imagine.” Mac held up his hand for a moment, “this is not the alpha synce you are thinking of Chika… The Delmar Claiming has a deep effect on what we used to know as Alpha Sync. In time, you and Ivar…” Mac paused as Lyrian sat up next to him, they spoke in perfect unison of tone, inflection, and cadence, “You will cease to need verbal communication with each other, as we have.”

Martina stared at the two of them in utter shock, and Ivar slammed back the last of his scotch.

“I know you have questions,” Mac began.

“Ask them, we hide no secrets from you.” Lyrian finished.