Commander Barro Suta cut back the throttle as she leveled out her ascent. The F-38 handled immaculately under her control, seeming to nearly bring itself to a steady cruise as the craft slid into place. From the array of displays before her, Barro descended her altitude, speed and heading and saw that each, were stable and correct.

Looking through the large cockpit canopy, Barro was hailed with a star-soaked display of black velvet sky. If not for the horizon barely peering over the canopy bottom, Suta could have easily mistaken it for a vantage from her familiar home in space. Viewing her instruments again, Barro checked to see exactly where they were. It had been a mere five minutes since they had left the base, and they had already covered ten kilometers. And steadily that distance was increasing.

“Mother?” she turned her head slightly towards the aft seat. “Mother are you alright?”

“Yes child, I am fine.”

“We’ve made it away safely,” she told her. “The base is far behind us now.”

“Good. You’ve done well, Barro. I am proud of you.”

The praise of her mother brought warmth to Barro’s heart. She smiled involuntarily.

With an audible beep, the holographic radar suddenly became active, displaying two prisms of green light. For a split second, Barro nearly ignored it. The green symbols normally depicted the presence of friendly aircraft. But she quickly discerned that it would be allied fighters, which would be after her now. As advanced as they were, it seemed computers still could not distinguish a traitor from a true foe.

Barro’s mood quickly soured. Her own thoughts plaguing her mind with the thing that she now was. A traitor. Still, what she was doing did not feel entirely wrong. The conviction of her Mother brought a sense of importance to her actions that nothing else could. She now had a higher purpose to serve. One that her old masters would never understand and would clearly not allow.

“I sense there is someone following us.”

Mother’s words snapped Barro to alertness.

She looked down at the radar. The aircraft were indeed closing rapidly, having already covered a great distance in the few moments since their arrival. They were designated as F-38s, the same as she was flying. Checking her weapons system, Barro saw that only the 20mm cannon was armed; she had no missiles at all. It was an unsafe bet to assume that the other jets had only the same. They could have easily had enough time to mount a few before take off

If that were the case, then trying to outrun them would prove a long lasting but inevitably futile effort. She would eventually run low on fuel and drop within missile range. Then death would be assured. The only way to truly escape them was to eliminate them completely. And it had to be done now, while she still had plenty of fuel to get into close range.

To most pilots her option would seem outrageous, ludicrous even. To take on two aircraft at once using only cannons? Suta herself almost scoffed at the idea. But her training was there. Her reflexes were there. And most of all, her confidence was there. She was an ace. No human pilot could defeat her. Her own Mother had seen to it to make her that way.

“Hold on,” Barro said.

Thrusting her engines to full, Barro whipped the fighter into a hundred and eighty- degree turn. Grunting lightly with the increased G force, Suta plunged downward towards the landscape. If she wanted to get close enough to dogfight, she would have to do it under the cover of topography, masking her approach from radar.

The nose of her craft dipped sharply as Barro watched the terrain launch dramatically toward her. Balancing her descent, she drew back forcefully on the control column, lurched the fighter horizontally once again. Reading her instruments, she was less than five hundred meters above the ground and flying at over six hundred kilometers per hour.

Terribly dangerous, but sufficient to achieve her goal. She had already swept under the two opposing fighters and was ready for the attack.

Signaling her neural link, she connected directly with the control actuators themselves. In an instant, Barro ceased to fly the aircraft and virtually became it. Through her cyberbrain, her thoughts and movements became that of her craft’s. Seeking her prey, she streamed upward again, viewing them like fluorescent fireflies through the holographic radar.

They seemed completely unaware, not moving to evade or attack. Barro pressed on, closing the distance and keying the trigger when within range. The rapid burst of 20mm fire sounded in a quick buzz. The trail of tracers illuminated the sky as they jetted upward and tore through their target with a pyrotechnic display of exploding fuel and munitions.

The other fighter tore off abruptly in a loop, seeking cover from the assault. Barro chased after it, throttling her engines and pulling her craft through a stomach-churning twist of acrobatics. Her opponent seemed well versed in aerial combat, for every move she made her opponent had a counter.

They swapped places as pursuer and chased, and then swapped back again. Each time Barro found herself in an awkward position, trying to close in while the enemy craft sought to extend its distance to missile range. Barro wouldn’t allow it, but neither could she waste precious time and fuel in the drawn out aerial combat. More than that she realized she was also at a loss for information.

“Mother,” she called. “I need to know where we are going.”

She did not reply right away. “GPS coordinates 32.3, 114.9”

Barro was surprised by the exactness. She searched the map. “Are you certain? It’s extremely close to the city.”

“I am certain of the coordinates.”

“Alright but-”

The shudder of bullets impacting rocked the jet from side to side. Barro cursed openly. The bastard had managed to close in, no doubt using her own tactics against her. Immediately the damage assessment screen lit up in bright flashing red. Barro took it all in quickly.

“What has happened?”

“We’ve been hit!” Barro quickly calculated the extent of the damage. “We can still fly for a while, but we won’t last against another attack.” Barro then checked the coordinates again. “We should be able to make our destination though.”

“Good,” said Mother. “That is all that matters.”

Her only chance now was to once again seek the refuge of the topography. Suta adjusted her bearings and set her heading towards the new location. Sliding into view ahead of her, the brilliant lights of Cronus City sung out like a beacon. Gliding downward, Barro sank into the darkness surround it and headed inevitable towards wherever this new destination would lie.

******************

As the darkness of night enveloped Cronus City, it rebelled with its usual display of phosphorescent glimmer. From its sea drenched docks, to its very center, arrays of lights and neon signs transformed the city from a grid of hard concrete into a wild and alluring jungle of luminescence and extravagance.

Born from the ashes of Los Angeles, the City of Cronus was seen as the perfect chance to create the most modern municipality in the world. Its center was set upon what used to be known as Santa Catalina Island. From there, the city spread outwards to the mainland, in huge causeways and artificial Islands. From orbit at night, it would appear like a half woven spider web with its center dangling off the West Coast of the United States. Its minute separation from the motherland gave it an intemational appeal. Cronus City was more a global city-state than an American metropolis.

Although it was a centerpiece for modem political reform and cultural diversity, like any city, Cronus had its problem areas. It in fact, had one of the worse problem areas in the world. Towards the East laid the remnants of the old city, which was deemed non- inhabitable by the govemrnent. Yet still, many people remained to live hollow, terror filled lives amongst the skeleton, that used be LA. On the maps, it was called the Reclamation Area, but the people of the city knew it by a far more simple and accurate name, the ghetto.

In stark contrast, towards the northwest was the uptown area. Tall office buildings and ritzy nightclubs lined themselves along street after street of well-paved roads, leading straight into the heart of the corporate center. It was the corporate district that was the true jewel of the city. Taking up an area that covered the entire island of Catalina, it was the home of the twin towers of Cronus and Rhea.

Just as their names were taken from the Titans, so did they resemble them in size.

Each tower rose two hundred stories into the air, and around them, spaced in a circular formation, was the ring of towers know as the lesser Titans. They were each named after the children of Cronus and Rhea, and rose to slightly less than half the height of their parents.

Eric Corbin stood at the foot of Poseidon.

Above him, the building was illuminated with a bluish laser light, casting an image of rolling waves on its surface. It was a nice touch having each tower decorated with a hologram portraying its namesake. They spared no expense for appearance in the corporate district. After all, it was what most people thought of when the name Cronus City was mentioned and public officials certainly wanted to keep it that way.

Eric strolled idly along the sidewalk for a bit, trying to relieve some of the anxiety that was starting to build in his system. Not far away from him, limousines and expensive sports cars were pulling up to the curb. Their occupants stepped out dressed in expensive fashion ware; clothes that had the name of some French or Italian designer attached to it.

Their vehicles were quickly taken over by young valets and driven around the corner, while they themselves strolled elegantly through the tower doors and towards the festivities within.

Eric smirked slightly. People with money certainly knew how to waste it.

His thought was slightly hypocritical; he himself was no slouch in the financial department after all. In fact, the suit he was wearing probably cost twice as much as any he had seen tonight. Granted his did not look as flashy, but it served a greater purpose than merely keeping him up with fashion.

Eric scanned the small digital display in his left eye. The time read 21:57. The meeting was scheduled at ten o’clock and still Eric had no word from his associate yet.

He at least wanted to run things over once or twice before they headed inside. Eric looked towards the doors of the tower once again.

Two men were posted on either side, wearing black suits and cheap looking sunglasses, though in reality Eric knew that the glasses were nowhere near cheap. They were most likely equipped with four or five different image enhancement systems; much like those imbedded in his prosthetic left eye. The men were also fairly well built in size, a clear-cut sign of bio-augmentation. Eric made a note to be careful around them, though fortunately his body had size to match.

Eric Corbin stood just over two meters in height with a dense, muscular build. He was in his late thirties, with shortly cut black hair and dark brown eyes, hidden beneath a pair of thick eyebrows. His face was well cut and angular and was often times stunning to most. It was a reaction, Eric had become quite accustomed to and in fact expected, considering he had paid for it to be that way.

Scanning the area, Eric spotted a man crossing the street briskly some distance away from him. Using his optics, he zoomed in to view him more closely. He was in his late twenties, with a tall stature and medium built frame. He wore a suit similar to Eric’s own; a slightly fashionable cut, but nowhere near as high classed as the other patrons’. His face was slim and sharp and his skin a deep olive color. In contrast, his blond hair was bleached stark white and cut in a close military like fashion. His head dashed quickly from side to side as he crossed the street, looking for someone.

With a sharp whistle, Eric made his locale know and the man abruptly changed direction to intercept. Eric waited until he had reached him and then finally spoke.

“Do you realize what time it is, Lance?”

The fair headed man nodded. “It’s twenty-two hundred.”

“I thought you would have been here a bit earlier.” Eric straightened his tie.

“I was.” Taking cue, Lance fixed his tie as well. “I took a few minutes to scout out the rear of the tower.”

“Hold on.” Eric removed a small earpiece from his jacket pocket. “Let’s get these things in and then we can talk a little quieter.”

Lance nodded and pushed his own earpiece into his left ear.

“Testing,” Eric uttered sub-vocally in his throat.

“Hear you good,” Lance responded back.

Let’s get moving inside then. I think it’s about to begin.

Lance nodded affirmatively and Eric turned to proceed towards the tower entrance.

What did you find out the back anyway? Eric slipped into a steady relaxed pace.

Not much. Lance joined him at his side. Everything seems to be pretty secure. Did you check out these guards already?

Not yet. Eric slowed for a moment as they passed by the men standing on either side

of the door. He then turned to look directly at one of them. His left eye shifted displays and the world suddenly became a colored palette of reds and blues. Eric saw that man’s figure painted in various degrees of reds and oranges with an occasional blue spot here and there.

Nothing on thermo. Eric switched his vision back to normal. Mostly meat if not all.

Hopefully they won ’t be a factor when shit starts happening.

As they passed through the doors, the air became filled with the fast paced thump of a bass drum. A light tune began to play over the drumbeat and was then suddenly joined by the wispy vocals of a female singer. It was a popular song that was being played. A fast club beat that seemed to blend smoothly with the designer elegance and décor of the event. Ahead of them, Eric could see the interior of the main hall. The lights were dimmed, and in the center stood an elevated catwalk, illuminated by soft runway lights along its edges. People sat in the darkness around the runway, gazing upwards at the elegant models who seemed to appear like magic from the black satin curtains at the back of the hall. The models were attractive, too attractive almost. They were lean and small chested with outrageous hairdos and even worse outfits. Eric really didn’t understand why people got so excited over supermodels anymore. Anyone could be one, if they had enough money.

“Invitations gentlemen?” A tall man in a tuxedo stopped them before they were about to enter the hall.

Eric reached into his pocket and withdrew a small piece of plastic and handed it to the man. The man twitched his thin mustache for a second then reached over to take a similar looking card from Lance. After a few seconds he smiled.

“I’m afraid there are not many seats left but please, enjoy the show.”

“Thank you,” Eric returned the smile.

The fakes worked nicely, Lance commented as they entered into the darkness of the hall. Going to have to thank Mandy for getting them done on such late notice.

The music grew louder and a small holographic laser show added itself to the entertainment walking up and down the runway. Over the music, a woman with a British accent was announcing the clothing that was being displayed.

All right, Eric stopped just within the hall. Let's get to work.

Eric switched the optics in his left eye for low light conditions. Instantly, the room became as bright as day, with the soft light of the runway becoming as bright as the sun.

Argh, Eric muttered.

What?

“Too much light in here for Low Light,” he turned off the optic. “Going to have to use UV.”

Eric made another switch and the room became painted in a green film. It made colors impossible to define, but the room was bright enough to make out details and faces clearly.

Can you see? Eric looked over to Lance.

Lance stared back at him with pupils dilated to the size of dimes.

“Christ, man,” Eric cringed away slightly. “You look like a fucking vampire.”

Lance grinned. “Yeah I can see. The lights are a bit of a problem but my eyes can keep up with the changes in light intensity okay.”

“All right let’s start looking for the target and we ’d better hurry.” Eric glanced at his watch. “We don ’t know exactly when this is going to happen, we just have to be ready.”

Lance nodded. “I’ll take the left side of the room.”

Eric nodded back and watched as Lance turned and started making his way through the crowd. Eric stopped to get his bearings for a second and then proceeded into the crowd himself. He was not one to keep up with glamour, but by the look of the turnout, this seemed to be a fairly important event. Within the mass of people he could recognize a few movie stars and music artists. Their seats were of course, as close to the runway as possible. The target was most likely there as well.

He pushed past a few people politely. They responded with a warm smile, accepting his apology with grace. It always amazed Eric the difference in the types of people who flocked to different environments. Had this been a crowd somewhere else, an incident like that could have well ended in a fight.

“Any luck Lance?” Eric called through the earpiece.

“I don ’t see him.”

Eric moved a bit closer to the runway. He spied a portly middle aged man with a full beard and a high receding hairline. Next to him was a woman of about the same age, with whom he was whispering to quite often.

“I’ve located the target,” Eric informed his partner. “The senator has his wife with him so we have to treat her as a secondary target.”

Understood, he heard Lance reply. Where exactly are they?

Halfway down on the right side. Eric measured out the dimensions of the hall. I'm going to take position three meters behind them. You take position opposite them on the other side of the runway.

“I’m on it.” Lance replied.

Eric moved a bit further into the crowd. It was no easy task with all the chairs and the people sitting in them. He could feel their dirty looks as he more or less stumbled past them. He hadn't anticipated it being so cramped. It could pose a significant problem.

I‘m ready, reported Lance, I can see the Senator.

Eric looked over the runway and saw Lance’s eyes glowing catlike in the distance.

Slowly he made his way just behind the Senator. It was a bit awkward to say the least. All around him people were sitting and looking at him sternly for obstructing their view. Eric apologized some more, and shuffled until he managed to find a small wedge of space that wasn’t in anyone’s way.

“He would have to sit so close wouldn’t ’t he?”

Eric chuckled. “No one said this job was going to be easy.”

“See anything yet?” asked Lance.

“Haven ’t been looking to tell you the truth, been busy looking for the senator.”

“Shouldn’t ’t matter too much,” Lance subvocalized. The only way we ’ll know for sure is when they attack anyway.

“At least we know its one of the models.” Eric began watching the women walking up and down the catwalk. “Probably going to be an A type. Either that or a B type with some real light bodywork.”

“I might even be able to smell em, Lance mentioned. If they are renegades they will probably be pumped up on cheap amino derms.”

Eric switched to thermograph for a moment and watched the models on stage. Most of them, if not all, were human. This could turn out to be a long wait. There was also the possibility that the attackers changed their game plan. Perhaps they were going to try directly after the show, in the confusion of people leaving. That wouldn’t be their style though. Eric had handled the information gathering himself. They were up against terrorists tonight. Terrorist wanted to be seen and recognized. He just hoped they weren’t going to try to take out the whole crowd. But as far as he knew all they wanted was the senator.

Remember we need the perpetrators alive, Lance, Eric reminded him. Or intact at least. I’ll do my best defending the Senator but the objective is the capture of the suspect.

Understood, Lance replied.

There was a pause as Eric returned his attention to the runway. The holograms along the edge of the stage were quite a sight, especially when being seen through UV.

“I may have something,” Lance’s voice came through the earpiece.

“Eh?”

“The short-haired brunette,” Lance described her. “Wearing the overcoat.”

Eric looked upon the runway for the woman Lance spoke of. He spotted her and immediately switched his optics to thermograph. Her figure appeared before him in a paint scheme of red and blue. Her skeletal structure seemed artificial, as did her fingertips. Eric noticed something blue swaying out of sync with her body. Eric made out the long barrel of a gun with a curved banana clip.

“It’s her!” he spoke aloud. “I’m going for the Senator.”

Eric made a bolt towards the runway. He tripped trying to climb over someone’s seat and fell forward into the backs of the people in the next row. There was a loud commotion around him. People were cursing and pushing. Eric refused to pay attention to it, his eyes where fixed on the raven-haired cyberoid walking calmly down the runway towards him. He pushed again against the crowd, causing even more people to look over their shoulders at him.

Fuck! he grunted to himself. Above him, he saw the cyberoid tum about at the end of the runway and begin to make her way back down. He saw her eyes lock onto the position of the Senator. She was getting ready to make her move.

“Shit Lance!” Eric cursed. “I’m not gonna make it to him in time.”

Lance’s voice boomed into his ear, obviously shouting as he was. “There are too many damn people in here!”

Eric saw her hand move slightly inward towards her coat. His mind raced, he had to do something. Throwing open his jacket, he snapped his handgun from the shoulder holster. Then, flicking his thumb, he released the safety and aimed it at the cyberoid.

“Halt! C-D-I!”

Eric wasn’t sure how loud he had screamed, but for that instance, it seemed as if his words were the only thing that could be heard. The cyberoid stopped. People around him dashed and scattered in a panicked frenzy. Screams were heard.

Get to her Lance! he spoke gutturally.

Eric held firm. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but he knew the cyberoid was going to react soon. In the distance, he saw Lance brutally climbing over people, trying to reach the cyberoid. Eric heard security personnel screaming directions and orders. The whole thing was about to hit the fan in a few seconds.

He had to do something. Quickly.

“I’ve got to take her out!” Eric aimed his pistol. “She’s going to spray the crowd.”

Wait! shouted Lance. I ’m almost there.

Eric saw her hand flash into her coat. He saw a glint of metal.

“Too late!”

Eric pulled the trigger and suddenly the entire world went bright green. A scream erupted from his lungs as the color blinded him. Eric felt the jerky triple recoil of his pistol as it fired a three round burst in the direction it was pointing. A sporadic discharge of automatic gunfire suddenly filled the air. He dove to the ground, his body slamming into a mass of hard chairs.

Eric finally caught hold of himself and closed his left eye. The greenness that was overloading his optical nerves was gone. The room was now fully lit. Eric flicked his optics to normal and reopened his eye.

A few feet away from him, the Senator and his wife lay dead in their seats; their bodies riddled with blood leaking, bullet wounds. Several other people were crawling in the same area, their voices filled with pain as they cried for help.

“Someone turned on the damn lights” Lance cursed. “I couldn’t ’t see what happened.

Eric scanned for the cyberoid and saw she was gone. Dammit!

He looked over and saw Lance, resting one hand against the runway, while rubbing his eyes with the other. Eric clambered forward and lifted himself up onto the runway. Briefly he looked down at the Senator. He could still be alive, but he wasn’t the priority at the moment.

“Come on, Lance!” Eric shouted. He didn’t wait for a response. Instead he made directly for the black curtains at the end of the catwalk. She couldn’t have gotten very far in that short of a time. He burst through the black velvet curtain and onto the backstage area. Half-nude models were running about frantically as security personnel stood dumbfounded at the events that had just taken place. One of them spotted him.

The guard went for his weapon.

“Wait!” Eric reacted quickly, showing the back of his fist to the guard. With a faint mental trigger a glowing tattoo illuminated oh his skin. “I’m CDI,” Eric stated. “I need to know where that woman went.”

The guard looked back at him blankly.

“Major!” Eric heard a call from behind him.

“Hurry up, Lance.”

“I have her scent,” Lance pushed past him.

Eric quickly followed suit, moving by the guard, and deeper into the back ofthe hall. Lance pushed through people like an animal, his eyes shifting wildly. They reached the emergency exit at the rear of the building. Lance pushed on the lever, but it depressed with no effect.

“Damn!” Lance drove his shoulder into the door with a loud thump but it refused to move.

“Watch out,” Eric stepped forward. Grunting slightly he readied himself, and then charged forward with a massive kick. The force slammed through the door like a truck, tearing it off its hinges. Lance wasted no time running through the new exit and stooping just outside to pick up a new trace.

Eric stood behind him, scanning the immediate area. The backdoor of Poseidon tower lead to a small patch of grass, and beyond it was the open street. There was light traffic rolling past, and in the distance, Eric could hear the whine of an ambulance coming towards them.

“Anything?” Eric looked down to his colleague.

Lance paused for a moment. “This way I think.”

He then rose to his feet and began running westward along the road.

Eric followed after him. His muscular legs pounded piston-like against the hard tarmac, catching up to Lance easily. He enhanced his vision and began scanning ahead of them. On the opposite side of the street, he saw a figure running.

“There!” Eric pointed with his pistol and changed direction to pursue her. He ran directly across the street, oblivious to the slow moving traffic. A car slammed brakes behind him, causing a loud screech to fill the air. The cyberoid turned at the sound of the noise and caught sight of him. Immediately, she began to run faster.

Eric reached the sidewalk and began to pick up speed. He was faster than she was, and the gap was starting to close slowly between them. Eric felt the burning in his legs but he forced the pain out of his head.

“CDI!” Eric screamed after her. “Halt or I’ll fire!”

She didn’t listen.

The order was half hearted anyway. Eric didn’t want to shoot her if he could avoid it. There was too much risk she could be killed. If she died, months’ worth of investigative work would die with her. Eric needed to know who sent her and what organization she truly represented.

He pushed harder, his breath becoming short grunts of determination.

Suddenly she spun around before him, her weapon trailing in her hand. Eric saw the muzzle flash.

Something hit him in his chest, his arm, and his leg. He stumbled to the hard pavement, his limbs flailing wildly. He rolled once and ended up on his stomach. He peered upwards to see her running again, her gun still blazing with automatic fire. Clarity entered his mind as he took aim. The whole word seemed to slow around him, giving him ample time to line up the shot. He squeezed off a tri-burst at her dashing legs.

Two of the three large caliber bullets hit their mark. Their hardened jackets ripped through the lightly armored texture of her skin and penetrated through to the other side.

She fell forward with a short wail of pain, as her lower leg exploded in a flood of thick, red blood.

Eric had made the shot.

“Major, you okay?” Lance ran up next to him.

“I dunno,” Eric answered blankly. He looked down upon himself. There was no blood and not much pain.

“Didn’t get through,” Lance said observing him. “Lucky she was using small caliber rounds.”

Eric nodded and began to stand to his feet. “Go check on her. Make sure she’s okay.”

Lance retrieved a small black zipper case from his pocket and ran over to the fallen cyberoid. Stooping over her, he could see the extensive damage the 12mm slugs had made. She was still conscious, although only barely. Lance unzipped his case and retrieved a small air hypo-needle and a vial of morphine.

“How is she?” the Major leaned over his shoulder.

“She’ll live,” Lance began to tie a tourniquet about her leg. “Just going to relieve the pain so she d0esn’t go into shock. Probably better call for our lift right away though.”

The Major nodded and reached into his pocket for his comm-link.

Lance loaded the hypo, and moved the cyberoid slightly to administer the dose right above the knee. Something then fell out of her hand. Picking it up, Lance examined it; a small tube with a needle attached to the end. He sniffed it lightly.

“Shit!”

“What is it?” Eric rushed over at the sudden alarm.

“She injected herself with some kind of toxin!” Lance then dove back into his medical case. “I don’t know how strong it is. I’m going to give her some adrenaline and atrophine. It’s not a guarantee but it might be enough to keep her alive until she can get some real treatment.”

Lance produced a ten-centimeter long syringe from the case and began loading it with the drugs. He shook it slightly, then removed any air by squirting a stream of the fluid directly upwards. Lance gripped the cyberoid forcefully with his free arm, and laid her flat on the back. In one quick stroke, he ripped the elegant silk shirt from about her torso, exposing her bare chest.

Eric stood back dauntingly as he watched Lance feel over the cyberoid’s torso for a moment. Then, without warning, he raised the syringe and plunged it deep into her breast.

The needle punctured the breastbone with a soft thud and traveled straight through to the cyberoid’s heart. Satisfied with his insertion, Lance pressed downward on the plunger and emptied the needle’s contents directly into her blood stream.

He waited for any signs of effect, but her glassy eyes remained fixed in space. He checked her pulse. It was faint and slowing. Then finally it stopped.

“Dammit!” Lance pounded above her heart desperately trying to restart it. “Come on!”

Eric watched as Lance hit her chest again and again, but could tell it wasn’t having much effect.

“Give it up, Lieutenant,” he shook Lance’s shoulder. “Looks like she’s won this time.”

His subordinate sighed heavily and knelt on the cold concrete for a moment, then slowly he rose to his feet and stood next to him. Lance shook his head in disgust. “How did we manage to blow an easy one like this, eh Shade?”

Eric always knew an op was finally over, when Lance called him by his nickname. It was the name Eric preferred, but his lieutenant wouldn’t dare refer to him by it during a mission.

“Too many wins.”

“Eh?”

“Too many wins,” Shade repeated. “We got complacent. We knew this was going to be small time opposition but we underestimated the situation. We- I should have put more men on the op, covered the back door.”

Lance nodded. “I guess after a while, you forget just how unpredictable one cyberoid can be.”

“The target killed and the suspect dead.” Shade sighed deeply. “Complete fuck up.”

“Some data may be salvageable from her cyber-brain,” Lance shrugged.

“Yeah,” Eric said slowly. “Maybe.”

“At any rate,” Lance retrieved his medical supplies from off the sidewalk. “It’s over now.”

“Yeah,” Shade agreed, “it’s over.”

A few minutes of silence passed before a corporate police car pulled up beside them.

Lance flashed his identification to the officers and told them to move on. They obeyed him, albeit somewhat resentfully. Eric then watched as normal police began to gather around the tower as well, along with an army of news teams. He was glad they were some distance away. With luck, they would be gone before anyone spotted them.

Eric hear the high pitched whistle of a jet engine approaching. He image enhanced towards the area and saw the flashing lights of an aerodyne.

An aerodyne was somewhat of an odd vehicle. It didn’t seem like much of an aircraft at all, although it did have some aerodynamic qualities. It was shaped mostly like a yacht, with its large angled front windscreen and its curved, tapered hull. At first glance it looked impossible of flight. It had no wings to speak of, save for a spoiler, which looped over the rear of the craft. The jet engine, located to the rear, merely provided trust for propulsion; actual lift, was achieved by the super-conducting magnets, hidden away under the skin of the vehicle’s belly.

“We’re ready to go,” Eric radioed to the pilot.

There was a brief pause before the pilot responded. “Hear you loud and clear, Major.”

A spotlight illuminated from the bow of the aerodyne, as the craft slowed its approach and began to close in at a mere fifty meters away. Eric waved his ann in the air for confirmation.

“Are you all wrapped up dovsm there, Sir?” the pilot called back.

Eric paused. “Yeah. We’re all done.”

“That’s good.” The pilot then paused before speaking again. “Oh I heard something on the radio you might be interested in, by the way.”

“Yeah?” Eric cupped his hand over the earpiece and listened more carefully. “What’s

that?”

* * *

“USSD is having a little trouble.”

Captain Redo Lukes eased back on the throttle as he passed over the Major below.

With a mental trigger, he switched his helmet feed to the landing camera mounted in the belly of the craft. A view of the Major and Lance from above appeared in a small box within his helmet’s visor. He lowered the Aerodyne slowly and carefully, correcting for the thrust of the rear engines and the slight wind pushing on the ship’s surface.

“What do you mean?” the Major asked him.

Lukes popped the landing gear and eased downward, using the camera and his altimeter as a guide. “They were in pursuit of one of their own aircraft.” Redo felt the soft jolt as the landing gear connected with the ground. With a touch of controls he opened the rear entry hatch. A whirring sound was heard over the whine of the engines, as the hatch began to lower itself to the ground. No sooner had the door opened fully, that Redo felt the motion of someone jumping inside.

He looked over his shoulder and saw it was Lieutenant Lance, pulling an empty body bag from the side storage compartment. The Lieutenant looked at him, but said nothing.

He gathered up the bag then turned and crawled out the hatch again, just as the Major was stepping inside.

“How’d it go, Sir?” Redo flicked a few switches on his control panel.

“Shitty,” Eric replied. “Tell me more about this USSD thing.”

Shade ducked as he moved to a seat right at the back of Redo’s chair. He promptly sat down into it and then leaned his back against the hull. The annoying pain of a buckle in his back reminded him to strap himself in. He did so quickly, and then began lightly feeling the bruises the bullet impacts had left.

“Happened about thirty-five minutes ago,” Redo informed him. “An F-38 apparently left Renel Naval base without authorization. Two more were sent up after it.”

“Really?”

There was a loud thump at Shade’s feet, as a long black bag landed heavily to the floor of the aerodyne. Eric frowned slightly and looked towards Lance, who was dusting off his hands and making his way through the hatch.

“Yeah no bullshit,” assured Lukes. “I’ve been listening in ever since. Seems the renegade actually took down one of the pursuit aircraft too.”

“What?” Eric couldn’t believe how calmly Lukes was relaying the information. “A renegade USSD aircraft?”

“Seems like it.”

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yup,” Redo nodded. “You in Lance?”

“I’m in.” Lance sat opposite Shade and began strapping himself in.

Lukes then keyed for the hatch to close and began throttling up the engines. “Back to

HQ, I assume?”

“HQ?” Eric flashed his head towards the pilot. “With this shit going on? You gotta be

mad. Where the fuck is that plane now?”

Redo always found it amusing, how passionate the Major got about certain issues.

“Last I heard, it went down."

“Went down?” Lance said. “Did they shoot it down?”

“Don’t know.” Redo ran a final check on all systems. “Didn’t hear anything about them actually hitting it, but I assume so.”

“Where did it go down?” the Major asked.

“About forty kilometers North-West of the base.”

“That’d put it right on the rim of the Reclamation Area,” said Lance. “You have a general idea of where it might have gone down, Redo?”

“Maybe.” Lukes applied the throttle and lifted the aerodyne from the street below.

“Why? Do you want to check it out?”

“Yes I want to check it out!” Shade rifled, baffled by the pilot’s nonchalant attitude.

“What would be our ETA?”

“Fifteen minutes,” Redo shrugged.

“How long ago did it go down?”

“I’d say ten.”

Eric rested his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “They’ll have a response team underway by now. Redo can you cut that ETA down any?”

The pilot looked backed over his shoulder. “Maybe to twelve if I push it.”

“Do it,” Shade commanded. “We just might beat em.”

“All right hold on.” Lukes pitched the nose oh the Aerodyne sharply and applied full thrust. The turbine engines wailed with power, and the craft launched forward, cutting the night air with its sharp bow and leaving a thunderous roar behind it.

“Got a hunch eh, Sir?” Lance smiled knowingly at him.

“Yeah kind of.” Eric scratched the light stubble on his face. “I’d go check out a call like this regardless. US military aircraft don’t fire upon each other, unless something or someone fucked up big time. The fact that its USSD makes it all the more suspicious.”

Lance folded his arms and chuckled. “Think USSD is up to its old tricks?”

“Possibly,” Shade said. “Hell, it probably is, knowing them.”

Lance nodded. “This wouldn’t be the first time we’ve uncovered some dirt on them.”

“This is what happens when you replace an organization like NASA with a branch of the military,” Eric shook his head. “You still got to hire the same people to make the shit work, but now you’ve got to give them military ranking and power as well. Combine that with a virtually unlimited budget, some clueless Brass above them and you got a ton of smart ass people making whatever they want, and selling it to whoever they want, without much chance of being caught whatsoever. Remember that Lieutenant Morgan who was selling space armor designs to the communists Chinese?”

“Yeah, I remember him,” Lance said. “Tumed out to be a working for Genesis on the side too wasn’t he?”

“Yup, he was a former Genesis engineer.”

“Like most of ‘em,” Lance smirked.

“I’d say sixty percent of USSD personnel are ex-Genesis employees. They go through

people faster than toilet paper over there.”

“Not a bad estimate.” Lance began packing away his medical case. “So you think someone is working on their homework assignments using government money and then handing it back to their teachers at Genesis under the table?”

“That’s the get rich quick scheme most of em seem to use. Either that or sell em directly to the enemy like Morgan did.”

“High treason either way you look at it,” Lance said. “You think someone was trying to get away with a top secret plane?”

“Could be.” Eric then thought it over for a moment. “Although Redo did say they identified it as an F-38 over the radio. Hey Redo!”

Eric shouted above the noise of the engines.

“Yeah?” the pilot called back.

“Was that transmission you were listening to on a secure frequency?”

“Of course,” answered Lukes. “I heard a piece of it through some garble. Then I called Lita back at HQ, and asked her to de-scramble it and patch it back to me. Worked like a chann. That chick is amazing I tell you. Worth every penny we spent on her.”

“Eight-hundred and fifty grand?” Lance scoffed. “I would fucking hope so for that price.”

“Anyway,” Shade intentionally ignored his subordinate’s descent, “there wouldn’t be any reason for them to mask a scrambled transmission. So we have to assume that it really is an F-38.”

“Could have something in its payload," Lance suggested. “Maybe even nuclear.”

“Could be.” Eric nodded slowly. “Though the market for nukes isn’t that great anymore. I guess even terrorist are starting to realize that wiping out half the planet really doesn’t make a lot of sense. Possibility though.”

“Lukes,” Lance shouted. “Has there been a request for a Nuclear Emergency Safety Team?”

“Not that I’ve heard,” Redo called back. “ETA four minutes by the way.”

“Good work,” said Shade. “Anything on visual yet?”

“Not yet,” he replied. “I’ll tell you when I do. Should be relatively easy to spot at night.”

“I just thought about something,” Lance rubbed his chin.

“What?”

“We’re travelling pretty light to be headed into the reclamation area.”

Eric looked over to Lance and what he was wearing, and then down at his own semi armored dress wear, which had already taken a bit of punishment. On top of that, there was only Redo, Lance and himself. The reclamation area was precariously know for its extremely violent, and often times well armed occupants. The sight of a flaming aircraft crashing into the ground, would no doubt bring them out of the wood works.

“Redo, please tell me you’re hauling some armor back here.” Eric began looking about the interior of the Aerodyne.

“Should be about four suits of HS-l2 in the storage compartment under the deck,”

Redo jerked his thumb. “What? They aren’t there?”

“No,” Eric scratched the back of his head, “just haven’t looked yet.”

Lance un-strapped himself and began fiddling with the floor panel, popping it open easily. He pushed aside the body bag and began pulling the pieces of armor up from below. Within a few moments he had two suits of the hardened plastic armor, along with two assault rifles spread over the floor of the Aerodyne.

“We’re going to suit up.” Shade stood and began to undo his tie. “When you find the site, start circling okay?”

Redo couldn’t help but smile with the building of excitement.

“You got it, Major.”

***********************