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Romeo, Juliet, and the Black

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I_Am_Nobody

Supernova
Joined
Sep 27, 2011
The last war had gone on for nearly a century, and the next one was already about to begin.

The stars remained elusive, but humanity had spread across its system and dominated the worlds bound to its own star. Research stations became colonies, barren airless wastelands became verdant green fields, satellites became massive orbital complexes that housed the ever growing masses. All the planets respected the authority of the homeworld, and for a time humanity had known only growth. Until the day that Mars decided it owed no fealty to the source of all life in the system. Prosperity became madness, and the fragile links of radio and transport that bound the worlds together were broken as war shattered the black. The Old Earth Empire became nothing but a memory as its holdings were lost, its subjects rising to rip apart all that had been built. When the guns were finally silenced, the colonies had been separated from their homeworld for decades.

Mars had won its freedom by destroying the Empire. And now the remnants were there for the taking.



Earthdate September 21, 132 AE (After Empire)
Fabrication Complex 74, Sara's Necklace, Mercury Orbit



Sara's Necklace was one of the dozens of stations orbiting Mercury, their nano-fabricators working constantly to produce the weapons and vehicles that the planet below suddenly found itself in desperate need of. Contact had been reestablished a few months ago, and Earth had welcomed the wayward colony back into the Empire. Mercury had responded with polite but firm assurances that they were quite capable of taking care of themselves. Earth had insisted. And so here he was, waiting for the computer to finish scanning the facility orbiting before him; it would be such a waste if they were to blow it up without getting everything they could out of it first.

Norik Tellson's computer chimed as the analysis finished, rows of data projecting themselves onto the screen before him. Nothing out of the ordinary, averge energy output and consumption, a few extra ships sitting in the docks but nothing large enouh to be a problem except..."Well," he murmured quietly to himself. "That's interesting. Shadow One to Command," he announced, the radio automatically activating itself. "Martian military is at target. Repeat, we have confirmed Martian military craft docked with the target."

The signal sped out across the void, and a few minutes later the reply arrived. "Estimated size of enemy forces?"

"Visible ships will hold up to twenty."

Another long pause. "Proceed."

Norik couldn't help but grin, switching frequencies. "Alright boys. Martian hostiles expected, but we go as planned. Thirty seconds from transmission, mark."


Far from the Necklace the void began to move, stars vanishing from view then reappearing as the handful of tiny ships began to converge upon the massive orbirtal factory. Passive sensors were useless against the slow-moving craft, the matte black paint making them virtually invisible as they crept through the sky.
 
Rumors spread easily around the galaxy. Quite easily considering the post-Empire sanctions on press and information trade about the planetary communities. Most of the time it didn't lead to anything, other times it did. After all, the Martian Split was originally a rumor. A tale that could have alerted Old Earth to the uprising, had they of chose to listen. However, they did not and the Planet of War reined supreme in the first time in its existence. Of course, to sell the rest of the planetary committees and organizations, there was no "Mars Empire" but rather the "Interplanetary System of Trade and Communication", ISTC for short, in which planetary dignitaries held reign over the sections of orbital complexes that were on, and revolved around their planets.

Mercury had always been slippery though. It was essentially hiding behind enemy lines to the rest of ISTC. And that was a problem. However, short of causing a orbital shift, which was not impossible, but a great annoyance, Mercury would never be on the connected with ISTC fully. But if ISTC was to trust Mercury, or even New Earth, both planets would need to be 'good' for awhile.

But apparently Mercury was now not only behind enemy lines, but sleeping with the enemy. Only if rumors were true though.

The rumor had spread through out ISTC, causing a knee-jerk plan of action to be formed as the diplomats met. The Martian Special Operations Team, Black Light, had been deployed to the outer rotation of the gravitational pull of Mercury. Best case scenario, for Mercury, the team would turn and leave. But the worst case scenario would essentially be the cremation of their planet. Obviously though, for that, back up would be needed.

Debate reigned on, the team waited for their orders eagerly. It had been some time since their last deployment. The call came over the headsets and their iris screens lit up with data codes of information. They were now active to take the first stage of action towards Mercury, to take down the weapon manufacturing satellite that orbited the planet's blue-red hue.

Jetting to the docking station of the weapon module, the two ships of ten each began to ready their equipment. As soon as the hovercraft was close enough to the station, the Black Light team began to move silently off the ship and around the satellite. Twenty agents, all together, had been held in the ships, however four were taken as pilots, leaving sixteen as footmen.

Celeste Creptian moved with a slight grace as she ducked around a corner and eyed the next segment of halls that was in front of her. Her gun was perched in her outstretched hand as she treaded the low gravity. Each of the sixteen was equipped with a small tab on napalm that would explode when triggered. This tab was only used in emergency situations like these as it was an petroleum based product from Old Earth and there weren't many just lying around lately. There was no worry of a human loss on the satellite, being a intelligent-design satellite factory, but it was always better to be safe than sorry. It took a few minutes more to sneak around the manufacturing plant, checking for signs of human life, but as a team, they would cover all the exits, corridors, and machinery in the process of planting the tabs.

Black Light radioed softly to each other as checkpoints of interest were marked by the members of the team on the iris screens in their non-dominant eyes. "Check 5.6," Celeste mentioned over her communicator, and a small box was colored on her screen. Now, all she had left to check out was the factory system's large data boxes and plant the tab in the same area. A few minutes more, and this mission would be over. A finicky grin passed over her face, she loved to watch things blow up. Especially when they were things that could possibly hinder Earth, new or old, from rising to power again.

The grin faded instantly as a heartbeat registered on her iris, her headpiece alerting her to a living thing like echo location. There was no twitch of her trigger finger, and rather than an increase in her heart, she felt her body slow to conserve energy and send it to her muscles and brain as she had been taught. "Beat on check 5.7," she commented with a bare breath as she rounded the final corner before facing the intruder. She heard her team confirm, "ISTC Special Agent, you are on ISTC territory without authorization!" she yelled, moving across the void, gun first.
 
"Shadow Three, make sure our guests don't leave without their goodie bags. Other units, it's time to start sending everyone home. Be sure to grab the gifts."

Simple orders, and a fairly simple code, yet coming up with complicated ways to say such trivial things was one of the tiny joys in life. Stealing all of the station's shipping manifests and design schematics before blowing up millions of kilos of materiel and taking the opportunity to blame it all on Mercury's good friends the Martians was one of the big joys. One of the slow moving ships altered its path to take it towards the docking bays; the Shadow within would eject from the craft, his powered pressure suit letting him slip silently up to the Martian's two ships and plant limpet mines upon the engines and fuel tanks. If there was enough fuel in the tanks it would kill everyone aboard, but at the very least the ships would be crippled when the blast ripped apart the engines. The rest of the Terran craft continued their path towards the satellite, each one slowing and matching speed with the complex until magnetic clamps sealed them tightly against the hull.

The rest was simple. The complex had never been designed to hold humans safely and was built long before the arrival of New Earth and Mars caused the need for armored manufacturing centers. The hull existed mainly to prevent micrometeorite strikes, and there wasn't even an alarm to go off when the superheated plasma sliced through the hull. In a few moments time Tellson's dozen Shadows had entered the factory, their armored void suits making them faceless terrors in the endless night. Two by two they moved, their scattered entry points meaning they could reach their goals in a matter of moments. His own goal was the data servers, and he moved alone; having a partner only tended to slow him down.

Quiet confirmations came through the radio as he moved, his team silently slipping through the facility slowly as to avoid detection. The killing would come later, once the job was done. At last Norik arrived in the main data room, carefully moving between the rows of data banks until he found an unlocked data jack. Data transfer commencing, whispered the AI in his helmet as he pulled the autohack from his belt and inserted it into the jack. ETA three minutes.

A noise. Sudden transmissions from his men, the enemy was on the move, someone had alerted them. Footsteps approaching him. Shit. Things would be starting a bit early.

"Engage silent, heat on discover," he quickly ordered, his Shadows drawing their blades and slipping forward towards the unaware enemy from behind with their guns at the ready. Tellson himself ducked behind one of the massive data banks, just in time to hear a woman shouting out across all bandwidths. Typical Martians, blazing in without a thought. And if she was a typical Martian, and had come in through the entrance he'd heard her at, and was advancing into the room to find the intruder, then she would be...there.

He was already throwing when he emerged from behind the bank, the deadly monofilament knife scything through the air. Tellson didn't even pause to see if he'd hit her, or if the strike accomplished anything beyond a distraction and the revelation of his position. He was too busy moving, sliding behind another data bank and tripping his suit's active camouflage. He would need it for her reinforcements; if she was a typical Martian, she was already dead.
 
Apparently I've brought a gun to a knife fight, she thought to herself as the knife breezed past her cheek and then shoulder as she pirouetted around the Terrestrial. Sheathing her gun, Celeste pulled her own blade from its encasing on her right hip. The metalloid reflected the lights of the data room, flashing blues and greens as she pressed her back against the data box. "This is Agent Creptian, of ISTC, you are in violation of the Articles of ISTC, Line 156E. You must submit to questioning or face lawful punishment," she urged, but knew there was little to say to an Earthian. They were so hard-headed and stubborn. Plus, she liked a good fight, and hoped he wouldn't stand down. Spilled Earthian blood would slide from her blade sweetly.

Pulling her iris monitor up, she identified his location in relation to her own. This was going to be too easy.

Another invader was signaled by her captain as she snuck around the data boxes, using the anti-gravity soles of her shoes to her advantage for silence. As her right hand steadied the serrated blade, her left moved to the handgun in the small of her back. It was her personal gun, her favorite, but sanctioned for use by the Martian bureau of Defense for her use only. "Kill on sight, or bring in for questioning?" she radioed quietly as she sunk around another corner. Celeste couldn't tell where he was by her sight, but she knew about where he should be due to his heat signature and the dead give away beat of his heart. Steady, she noted, giving him a bit of credit, though chalking it mostly up to ignorance of not knowing what he was truly dealing with. "Questioning," Command replied, and she felt her heart sink a bit. She was quite excited to kill one of them, but alas, torturing him would have to do.

Protocol dictated she had to give him one last chance, even if it gave up her position, "Again, you are in violation of the Articles of ISTC, Line 156E. You must submit to questioning or face lawful punishment. Please, just give me a reason to injure you," she taunted. A second later, she heard parts of her team in combat. Not alone, I see... she thought as she swung to strike with her knife, still holding the handgun. If needed, it could be used as a blunt object to hit the violator with. Her knife made no contact, so she struck at what seemed to be empty air again. Then, she tried the gun, aiming at what should have been his foot according to the heat sensors. A sharp ping was heard, alerting her to the fact that the hollow-point pullet had not, in fact, reached the soft flesh of its target. Her eyes tracked a slight movement in the space in front of her. Camouflage, as she suspected.

That was well enough, she would have some explaining to do if they knew she used hollow-points in the gun anyways.

Another strike with her right hand awarded her a muffled sound of surprised pain, the knife must have been sharper than he thought, as it sliced through the armor easily, leaving a tag of blood along what seemed to be the side of his arm. Celeste wasn't sure, but she was sure it hurt because of the serrations of the knife. But not as suspected, the suit sealed its self and the wearer was once again invisible to her eye.
 
The knife scythed through the air to embed itself in the wall just beside the entryway, the carbon blade easily hard and sharp enough to pierce the thin interior walls. It hung there forgotten as the Martian moved deeper into the room shouting some drivel about laws that meant nothing and what he must do. But the important part was that she was still alive to do the shouting. Perhaps the job would be more entertaining then he anticipated.

Certainly his men were having fun. The first reports came in, three of the enemy downed without notice, yet it was only an instant after that the first shots were fired. Throughout the ship Terran and Martian warred, neither of them knowing that, ultimately, they were both here to destroy the station.

Carefully and silently he slipped through the data banks and around the room, yet the woman was matching his every move. Equipped with a sensor array then, most likely a heat tracker that would outline his form in her vision. That theory was proven as she suddenly attacked. Quickly he darted back away from her first strike, slipping behind a data bank just in time for a bullet to slam into the ground he had been standing on a moment before. Trying to shoot him in the foot, which must mean she would prefer to take him alive. That was excellent; it limited her options. He had no such problems. He slid around to the other side of the bank, yet to his surprise she had matched him again; his dodge was a fraction too slow, the knife's blade piercing his armor and scoring a cut upon his arm. Already the suit was sealing itself, already his blood nannies were working to repair the minor damage, but it was the principle of the thing.

The forgotten knife suddenly exploded, the small charge in the handle flooding the room with heat and sound. For an instant the woman's sensors were blind as the wave of heat washed over her and his heartbeat was lost amidst the cacophonous blast. An instant was all he needed. Her gun went spinning as an unseen strike slammed into her hand, the knife's edge that would have opened her throat instead leaving a shallow cut upon her shoulder as she tried to escape her demise.

The games had been fun, but there was little use in continuing them now. As the explosion faded and her sensors were restored he simply turned off the camo, his black armor rippling into view. Shadows bore no insignia or mark of the homeworld, their helmets leaving them masked and unknowable. Yet there was one unique mark; upon this Shadow's shoulder perched a dragon, the ancient beast carefully etched into the armor. There was a gun at the Shadow's hip, yet there was only a knife in his hand as he slipped into a ready stance, watching the woman with unseen eyes.
 
Earthlings were getting smarter, taking tactics from the Martians themselves had stolen and altered from Old Earth. An exploding knife was one of them. Celeste did not duck, nor cover, when the explosion happened, but she was under the realization that she was blind in all other senses of the word, besides sight, to her enemy. In the moment where her sensors were interrupted, an invisible presence knocked her hand gun from her possession then wrapped around her frame to attempt to slit her exposed throat.

With a hesitation of breath, she slid to the side by a few inches, rewarding her a cut across her shoulder and an exit from the attack. Her sensors kicked back on as the combustion cleared, just as the infiltrator removed his camouflage to reveal a black entity of armor and a insignia on his shoulder. Celeste figured she could find out what it was once she brought him in for questioning and didn't bother to look for another second.

Though she still had a gun on her hip, she was sure that the few moments it would take her to draw it would be riskier than a knife combat with a Terran. A radio call came out that a few of the Black Light agents had been taken out, but so had some of the other infiltrators. And though his face was concealed and anywhere else he would have been a shadow, Celeste wanted him gone. If it even was a him, with the tall, broad build it was unlikely it was a woman, but it was still possible. But highly improbable, she commentated to herself as she they circled about each other in the data bay, waiting for one to strike first. It wasn't a long time, but rather a slow moment, but she lunged forward in a ploy to have him return an attack as well.

Her shoulder was still stinging a bit, but it would as the nano-bots cleaned and sealed the wound. It was not as fast a processes as it was for her suit, but soon the deep maroon-black skin shield was returned to original form and her iris monitor alerted her to the fact, as if she didn't already know. The circling began once again, as she assumed each of them heard some of their comrades falling. "Why are you here?" she tried, hoping she could gleam some information from him to return to the command post.

In a different space, Agent Creptian might have wondered what he thought of her as she circled him. If his mind was focused on her movements or his own. She would have heard his steady beat of a heart in her ear and reminded herself that he was still human in that suit, and Terran or Martian didn't matter. But she was here, and she was vicious. To hate and hunt, men like him, like his people, was how she breathed on her home planet. He needed to go, and she needed to plant her tab. This dance was over. Locking her eyes to where his eyes should have been, she lunged and ducked, not sure if she had made contact, but she rolled across the floor and sprung to her feet to plant the tab on the main source of data boxes. Of course he would follow, but she was ready for that, and drew her gun, larger than the hand gun, but a bit more sturdy as well, pointing it in the man's direction.

Last time she checked, her team was six men down, and she wasn't going to make herself the seventh. If that meant that she didn't take the Terran in for questioning, she would have to deal with that in paperwork later. Aiming for his shoulders and hips, she fired a few times, allowing herself a bit of leeway to escape the room and detonate her tab. Through the door she originated, she left, and ran a few hundred feet before detonating her tab; something else she would have to explain when she got back to command post. Rolling her eyes, she tread carefully back to the docking station as a tremendous explosion fired off behind her. Oil based products, dear stars, Old Earth. Returning to the caravan of ships that were waiting innocently sparked a thought in her head. They were too innocent for her taste, but she had no other way out.

Beside the escape pod.

Radioing to the remaining team to take the six escape pods. The would need to double up, but the crafts were fishy. If she was the Terran commander, she would have blown them up by now. The four pilots evacuated the ships and piled into two of the pods, escaping safely. Agent Tadashi, their captain, came running towards her and urged her into the pod. "We're it," he claimed and shut the pod door, then pressed the launch button. "Shit," Celeste exclaimed as the pod flung itself through space. Six survived, she counted as she closed her eyes and put her head in her hands. "Shit," she repeated.
 
In another time Norik would perhaps have paused to appreciate the female form before him, the quick gracefulness of her movements, the strange beauty that Martian women held so similar and different to anything found on Earth. But the blade in her hand dispelled many of these thoughts, and when she struck he thought of her only as an enemy. He slipped away from her blade and slashed his own, only to have her avoid his strike as deftly as he had dodged hers. The dance continued in deathly silence, blades flickering as men died over their radios. Once he thought he had her but did not strike, suddenly sure that her counterblow would end his life even as she died. The woman broke the silence first, demanding to know why he was here. Surely that was obvious, but he never could resist a chance to taunt the enemy.

The shadow gave no verbal answer to her demand, merely raised his free hand with his fingers outstretched in the shape of a gun. He pointed it directly at her chest before his fingers jerked, pulling the 'trigger.' For an instant he thought the simple threat had driven her to madness as she lunged, but her blow was only there to keep him back as she pressed a small tab onto a data bank. Almost immediately the AI began to warn him, the tab flickering red in his HUD as live, unstable explosives were detected. But then there was a gun in her hands, and he had no choice but to duck behind a data bank as she began to run.

The AI had already warned his men, and suddenly supporting reports came of tabs upon some of the enemy. They want to blow the place, Norik suddenly realized, and there was no time to be sure. "They're detonating, fall back and escape," he demanded over the radio. Quickly he dashed back and yanked the autohack, ignoring the AI complaints as he bolted from the room mere moments before the entire room exploded. Other explosions could be heard as he ran, further detonations ripping through the factory's structure and shattering its supports. It seemed pure luck that he made it back to his ship, its airlock slamming shut behind him as the clamps released and it flung itself away from the dying satellite.

In the void he could watch the explosions continue, silent orange blossoms appearing as munitions cooked off. "Check in," he called out, and the pause was longer then he would have liked before the reports came in. Four had made it back to their ships. Three others had not, but their pressurized suits had kept them alive as they bailed out of a shattered hull. Of the rest there was no sign. He waited as long as he could before finally nodding. "All inactive Shadows are KIA. Cleanup." Amidst the explosions, five armored suits brightly flared, five sets of equipment began to glow, until nothing but dust remained of the fallen. No evidence.

Silence in the void, respect for the fallen. At last Norik keyed in the command to return, and the ships began their trek back towards the command ship. It hung in deep orbit around Mercury, and was officially a diplomatic vessel to discuss relations between Mercury and New Earth. Officially, it had no military capabilities whatsoever. Very few people actually believed that, though they would be hard pressed to find the proof of it.


Eventually, Mercury Security Forces responded to the reports of explosions in Sara's Necklace. They found the facility completely destroyed, with only a barest fraction of the materiel within recoverable. Also found were two Martian troop transports, both with their engines seemingly destroyed in the blasts, and over a dozen bodies of ISTC Black Light troops. Of the enemy forces responsible, whoever they may be, there was no sign.

As the world was technically at peace with both of the system's superpowers, and there was no reason for Martian military forces to be upon the Necklace, the diplomatic channels almost immediately exploded with indignation and demands for explanations. While the pundits shouted, the cooler heads who were in charge demanded that the ISTC send their diplomats as well as a representative from Black Light to answer some pressing questions. Terran diplomats were not technically invited to attend, but it was understood that they would be showing up anyway.


Earthdate September 22
Superhabitat 4, Quicksilver, Administrative Wing, Mercury Orbit


Norik hated his dress uniform. But the Shadows did not exist, and so he endured the overly starched cloth and ridiculous ceremonial fripperies upon it as he walked stiffly behind Envoy Morrovic into the massive audience chamber. Someone was already speaking loudly as they entered, another Terran representative who had gained the floor. "There are only two conclusions to be drawn, sir. Either Martian forces failed to protect your satellites from terrorists, or they themselves were the terrorists. In either situation, I fail to understand why you are so adamant in your defense of the ISTC's 'protections.'"
 
As the pods piloted through the dark space towards the programmed coordinates of the Martian home base of Black Light, the diplomatic Martian homeship, Captain Tadashi's and Celeste's radios were loud with their general's voice. "What in the stars went on there!? What were you thinking? Not only have we lost more than half of our team, the plan was not properly executed! Where are the prisoners for questioning? Agent Creptian, you were the first to ask of taking in the suspect. I don't see one!" Celeste knew better than to reply, as it would only make things worse. "You are both now invited to the hearing that is to be held in you honor." It was clearly obvious this honor was a sarcastic one and if they didn't show it would be a clear sign of disrespect among the Martians to the rest of the Solar System. "Upon your arrival, I expect your best dress and immediate attendance to the hearing."

The general said no more, he just simply cut off the radio signal and left them in silence. Captain Tadashi looked to Celeste and shrugged. "I guess sometimes we have to be the bad guy for the diplomats." Her lips pursed as she heard his words, but she was also upset with herself, not collecting the Terran as she was told.

By the time they reached the docking bay of the Martian diplomatic ship, Celeste had beaten herself up enough, replaying the long segment of time in her head multiple times. Tadashi had not offered much solace either, seemingly stuck in his own battle. Once docked and disembarked from the escape pod, Agent Creptian left to her quarters to change from her armored suit. As the door slid to reveal her small living area, Celeste slid through and locked the door behind her. With a heavy exhale she disrobed the sections of maroon and black armor, a bit angrily. Slinking out of it, she then moved to the shower for a quick clean before the hearing. Closing her eyes to rinse her hair, the man was suddenly there, making the gun motion at her chest. Suddenly, her eyes popped open and she was back in the shower, warm water running down her body. Unintentionally, her finger moved to the sealed cut on her shoulder and then she was angry again. Slamming the water faucet closed, she toweled off and looked in the mirror.

"You are better than what you did today, that was pathetic," she told herself angrily, looking in her own plain blue Martian eyes. "A Terran? You couldn't take a Terran down?" she questioned to herself as she moved to clothe her body. Still fuming, she pulled the military dress for Black Light. It was an attempt to appear new-age and strong against all. The hard carbonite suit shrugged on smoothly. It too was black, but it had sharp lines of red cut into the curves of the suit, completely long sleeve and long pants, through it was a single piece. Each suit was individually made for those of Black Light. Celeste had not been the first woman of Black Light, but now she was currently the only. The only in a long time. Her uniform held snugly to her body and played suitably enough with her curves. In her opinion, she looked like the original term of a Martian, but the suit was a proud part of their history so she was to wear it proudly as well.

With her radio placed over the back of her ear, she exited the room and wandered to the great hall where the hearing was to be held, as almost every one and their mother had been sanctioned to attend. She caught her captain and the four pilots entering the doorway just as she walked up. The older pilot, Renric, offered her a small smile of consolation. He was her original mentor, and was like her father sometimes, even if he was in his late thirties or early forties. And right now he could tell that she was ready to fly off the handle with anger. Not that she couldn't control herself, but he knew that she could cause quite a stir in the hearing if she wanted. "Its been awhile since I've seen your hair down, its getting long," he whispered as they sat, referring to her brown wavy locks. "Thanks," she said with a soft smile, he was trying to distract her. Each of the six Black Light members were in their black uniform garb, a bit uncomfortable, placed on the edge of the great hall, perched at the side of the diplomats in case of an emergency, even if they were under investigation today.

The floor opened and accusing slowly began to build up against the Martians, then the Murcians, and then the Terrans. There'd better be an intermission, she thought to herself as she scanned the room carefully. Everyone was in their political and military uniforms, which was cause for a slight headache of color and atrocity. With a raised eyebrow, she looked at Renric, then motioned to the Terrans. "I wonder if the ones on the satellite are here," she questioned softly to him, trying to kill some time. Soon enough, they would get to Black Light's run down of the attack and explosion, but they were still accusing others at the moment.
 
Most of the present Terrans were diplomats or other men in suits, muttering quietly amongst themselves even as they loudly shouted blame upon everyone but themselves and angrily defended against the accusations made against them. The rest of those present were security personnel, dressed in traditional uniforms that hadn't changed appreciably in centuries. Most of them simply stood quietly behind their assigned envoys and ignored the declarations and assertions to watch the room's entrances carefully and keep an eye on the Martians, just waiting for an excuse to wreak some havoc. Only one of the guards seemed to have any genuine interest in the proceedings themselves, and he seemed to be focused more upon the Martian delegation and the Black Light soldiers seated beside them then whatever the Murcians were on about. His uniform was indistinguishable from the others, immaculately tailored to his fairly tall and broad form. His hazel eyes hovered on the Black Lights for a few moments, falling on Celeste a bit longer then the others before he looked up in time to hear the Murcian General speak; for the first time the actual military would be heard from instead of being ignored while the diplomats talked.

"Fabrication Complex 74, identified as Sara's Necklace, came under attack yesterday. The complex was undefended except by our standard orbital defenses and code-sealed docking procedures. As none of the orbital defenses engaged, we are forced to conclude that the attackers originated somewhere within the system. There was another flurry of shouts and accusations, and it took the moderator pounding loudly upon the podium before order was restored. Unfazed, the general simply continued. "We first learned of the assault when the complex sent out an automated distress signal caused by an onboard detonation of a small-yield explosive device. It took twenty-seven minutes from the reception of the signal to the arrival of the first security forces, who found the facility completely destroyed by a series of onboard explosions.

"Investigations revealed several pertinent facts. Residue from the explosions revealed them to have been caused by petroleum-based explosives." A murmur at this, accusatory stares directed at the Terrans, but the moderator's glare kept things civilized. "Two ISTC troop carriers were discovered at the scene, both empty with their engines destroyed. Examinations of the ship computers revealed no new information. Also found at the scene were the bodies of several ISTC personnel, specifically members of their special forces division, Black Light." More shouting, angry calls from the Murcians demanding answers. "No other bodies were found at the site, or any equipment with an origin other then the ISTC.

"With that," he continued, turning to face the Martian delegation and glaring at the Black Light soldiers, "I have advised my superiors that unless an acceptable explanation is forthcoming, we will have no choice but to consider this an act of war by the ISTC and respond accordingly." On the one hand it was an empty threat; Mercury simply didn't have the resources needed to effectively fight against Mars by itself, couldn't possibly be more than an irritation considering the distance between them and Mercury's inferior military might. But on the other hand, being at war with Mars would mean that Mercury would need all the help it could get, and Earth would be more than happy to make sure their red neighbor never again bothered the small world. "I trust you have such an explanation."

Up in the Terran section, Norik smirked as he watched the Murcians so readily put the pressure upon the Martians. His gaze fell again upon the sole woman among the soliders, unmistakably the girl who had sliced up his arm. Nothing wrong with putting a bit more pressure on her, a little bit of revenge for blowing everything up before they could steal everything. He bent down and whispered quietly to Envoy Morrovic, who nodded in agreement and stood. "Before we hear from the soldiers," he demanded, puffing himself up impressively, "I demand that we not hear from their commanding officer. Likely he has already been briefed by his superiors on exactly what to say and what not to say. If we are to get the actual story, we are more like to hear it from one of those under his command."

His gaze swept over the soldiers before falling on Celeste, a hand raising to point directly at her. "You, soldier. Stand and tell us what really happened, not what your superiors told you happened."
 
From the Terran balcony came a rough voice, a rough voice that called upon Celeste to speak. With a glance up she looked at the man, eyebrow raised. She had a decision to make though, to lie, or not to lie; as she was unaware if her planet had put out an official statement. If it had, she would need to match it word for word, but if not, the reputation of the Martian's relied on her. There was always the truth, that Black light had been sent there to destroy, with orders from ISTC, as a warning to Mercury. But there could be better ways to twist the story, especially with their use of oil-based explosives. That was almost the signature of the Terrans.

Looking the puffed-up man in the eye defiantly, Celeste stood. Both her hip-holstered gun and her thigh-sheathed knife were visible. It was clear that she was a soldier, as if anyone in the room didn't already know. Her brunette hair hung long behind her as her hands slid to her sides. She was almost statuesque, exempt from her flickering eyes, attempting to make eye contact with the prevalent leaders in the room before she began. "We were perched outside Mercury's gravitational orbit as ISTC gathered for a conference," she began with the truth, but then she deviated. It was her planet, she couldn't let it go to blame. "We watched as Terran-like ships approached. We could not confirm if they were from our distance. So, we approached silently to attempt to identify the craft. It then landed on Mercury's complex and we assumed it was terrorist. And though we are agents of Mars, we are also agents of ISTC." She gave pause to let the last nugget of information sink in a bit. A small crackle came over her radio, "Don't get too outrageous, but Mars will support your accusations." It was the general.

Her hands settled on the metallic barrier in front of her, her strong, battle worn digits clenched slightly over the railing as if she was angry. "We then radioed and boarded the complex, Sara's Necklace. In an attempt to track down the intruders, we separated, unsure of how many there were. I am unsure of the rest of my team, but I found an intruder in the data bay, stealing information from the complex. I now know he was intent on not only stealing the data, but blowing the complex to pieces, along with his team. I called out that I was an agent of ISTC and that he was breaking international law. There was no response, so I was ordered to take him in for questioning." Her knuckles suddenly blanched, "I was not successful in my apprehension of the suspect. He then located a tab of petroleum-based explosives, as noted by my iris screen and Mercury's investigation, and I fled from the data bay.

"Upon my arrival to the ships we boarded with, my instinct told me they would not be safe, so the remainder of my team, our four pilots and my captain used the complex's emergency escape pods to return to the Martian ship as the complex exploded, I assumed from more oil-based explosives." She gave a curt nod and returned to her seat.

The Martian general stood next, his large black chest plate glinting in the light of the great hall. "Upon acting as agents of ISTC, and under the assumption that Mercury is still within ISTC, Black Light was still under orders of ISTC, and protecting the system from terrorists. It is obvious that my sector has lost most of their team, and no longer need to be held accountable for the explosion today. Please be excused, Black Light, sector one." Renric, Celeste, the other three pilots and Captain Tadashi stood to leave the great hall, all rather tired and ready to collapse. They all saluted the general and exited the room, under the assumption that sector two would then fill their seats, as they did.

As Celeste left, her eyes trailed upward to the Terran speaker. Was he on the ship today? she wondered, but shook it from her head as she, almost menacingly, made eye contact with the protection of the Terran box. Next time we meet, she promised herself, I will imprison you. They then walked out the doors, and exited the great hall. Renric gave her a pat on the back as well as Tadashi, "A drink, anyone?" he asked with a hearty laugh. They all nodded and made their way to the diplomatic wing which housed the small bar.
 
Norik's eyes met the Martian woman's as she left the box, and returned her angry glare with a confident smirk. It was a fine story, almost exactly the one he would have told were their positions reversed. The problem of course was that there was no proof. A deep, thorough investigation of every piece of the wreckage would probably turn up something that proved someone other then the Martians were there (no one could remove every trace) but such an investigation would take a long time, long enough that the political situation could change another dozen times by then.

As soon as the soldiers left the hall exploded, everyone shouting accusations and denials at once. The moderator was shouting as well, demands for silence that were going ignored. Frankly there was little he could do here, not when he could go and see to it that the Martians further tarnished their soldier's conduct. A few whispered words with the envoy and a replacement was brought in, freeing Norik to head out. First, a quick stop by his quarters to rid himself of the worst of the ceremonial bullshit he was forced to wear and check the whereabouts of his quarry. The diplomatic station required everyone on board to carry small transponders that marked their location, making espionage supposedly impossible but actually just more difficult. It seemed that the remnants of the Black Light team were all in the bar attached to the diplomatic wing, a neutral area that was large enough for people of all factions to drink without getting in each others way too often. Unless of course, someone went in to deliberately poke the bear.


The bar was almost always full. Out here in space people often set their own hours and defined their own days which meant, quite literally, it was always five o clock somewhere. As such there were already several Terran soldiers and personnel in the bar when Black Light arrived, but beyond a few glares and jokes muttered amongst themselves there was no aggression. Usually everyone just wanted to get drunk in peace, and an informal truce inside the bar had held for the duration of the diplomatic meeting.

They were left to their own devices for about half an hour before Norik arrived at the bar, still in uniform but without most of the insignia and decorations that so annoyed him. He gave the room a once-over but finally just sat down with the fellow Terrans, and the drinking continued uninterrupted. But soon enough, Norik began to whisper to some of the other soldiers, men who appeared to be no more then privates or corporals and yet not so long ago had worn the black armor of the nonexistent. They spoke to others, and soon the entire Terran force knew exactly what was about to happen, and the part they were to play. If everything worked out, they'd be having quite a bit of fun and making the Martians look bad.

At last Tellson stood, a cup in his hand and swaying slightly as though he was far drunker then he actually was. "Let me just say," he announced loudly, speaking over the general din of the bar, "that I want to give a hearty congratulations to our Martian friends over there." He waved the cup towards the Black Light team. "70% of their men lost, the factory they were protecting destroyed, and no one but lies about us to blame for it. But they made a damn good try, eh?" he laughed, glancing towards the sole woman. "Don't worry hon, you'll get 'em next time."
 
The small group grabbed a few beers and moved to a table in the back. It slowly moved from a decompression of the day's events to a quiet memorial of their fallen friends. Not one of them questioned Celeste's actions of lying, they all knew it was for the best, or at least her intent was. But it just seemed it was not to be her night, as a Terran rose, sloshing his cup at the small group of armed Martian soldiers. And then he aimed his words at her. The air felt thick as she finally turned to look at the man, her face did not move into one of anger though she felt it strongly. Her eyes looked him up and down as she felt the men behind her also growing angry. "Thank you for your commentary," she said with a hard undertone and turned back around to the metal table. Suddenly, the grain in the metal was interesting to her eye.

Tadashi shook his head and turned back into the group. Of course, they weren't as large a group as they once had been, but they were still strong together. He knew that almost all of Celeste wanted to slit that man's throat, as well as the Terran that escaped her on the ship, and it was taking almost all of her to stay contained. But she was a good assassin, and a good woman, so she knew how to play her cards right. However, he could see the blanching of her knuckles and the redness added to her cheeks. Her hand moved to the side of her neck, holding her head up in the process. Celeste was wiped out, they all were, and the Terrans weren't making anything any better.

He looked to his brother, Renric, hoping he could get some sort of handle on Celeste. Renric always made the connections and Tadashi gave the orders. His brother shrugged, signaling that she'd most likely be fine as long as nothing else happened. Celeste took an additional sip of her beer and wished she would have ordered something harder. It wasn't so much the Terran. They'd always had to co-habituate when there was a hearing, but it was the addition of not fulfilling her assignments, losing some of her closest friends, losing her favorite gun, lying for her planet, and that the Terrans were present. She rolled her eyes at herself, and figured it would be best if she just left. It could get ugly after-all, and she didn't need any reason for ISTC to be looking into her life.

Draining her beer, she stood and the brothers stood suddenly as well. Celeste gave an unexpected laugh, "I'm fine, I'm just going back to my quarters." With a shake of her head she pushed in her stool and gave the rest of her team a smile to head out of the bar.
 
"You're quite welcome!" Norik called out to a chorus of laughter, sitting back down when it seemed evident that she wouldn't be trying to kill him just yet. But there was always more he could do; if the Martians could be proved to have started a fight while their actions were under investigation, the entire squad might end up being pulled from active duty until the investigation ended. With every enemy he could take out off of the battlefield, the fewer of his men would end up dead. He tapped lightly upon the table as he sat back down, seizing his comrades' attention. "You've got a recorder ready?" Higgs, his tech officer, nodded. "Good. Remember, if she goes for it don't help me. We need good footage of her striking first." The others nodded their agreement, and his gaze shifted up towards the Martian table. The woman was staring down at the table, and a couple of her brothers in arms were giving her concerned looks. Excellent.

At last she rose and started to head towards the exit, taking a path that would keep her as far as possible from the Terrans. A sensible precaution, but it wouldn't save her. Norik elbowed a common, actually drunk soldier beside him and whispered quietly. The soldier nodded and shuffled up to his feet, weaving through the bar and making his slightly weaving way towards the retreating woman. "Hey, cunt!" the soldier demanded; Norik had just told him to be annoying, but he had decided there was nothing wrong with taking the initiative. "Little bitsh thinksh she's a soldier, huh? Huh?!" he demanded, his words already starting to slur together. From the Terran table Norik stood, starting to head towards them on a much straighter path even as the agitator continued to shout. "Well I shay you can't fucking fight so lets shee if you can just fu-"

"Soldier!" Norik snapped, the drunken Terran falling silent at the sudden command. "Now," Norik continued as he approached, smiling at the woman. "There's no need for that sort of thing. Just because she can't keep any of her friends safe while failing to kill any of the enemy doesn't mean she's not a soldier. It just means she might want to consider other careers, like secretary, or prostitute," he said with a chuckle. "Go on back to your table, good man. Terribly sorry about that hon," he added towards her, his every word and the shit-eating grin on his face designed to infuriate her as much as he could.
 
The words were sharp on her ears. It was dripping with alcohol, but it was also dripping with something else, hatred. Her head jetted up, but she did not turn. Her lips puckered slightly and one of them slipped beneath her lip and she bit, hard. She took a deep breath, just as he took his own to continue his attack on her. Her ears picked up the scooting of chairs from her Martians behind her, but it never reached her brain. The continuous stream of accusations did, however.

On her heel, Celeste spun to meet the new assailant on her character. It was not the original voice, so she knew it was not the original man. But who these men were, she did not know, but she was ready to be done with them. Her left finger rose, intending to begin to tell the man off, but her right hand was reaching towards the knife on her thigh. Her fingers twitched to reach for it as the new Terran stepped in. Her hand retreated vaguely, but he was still a Terran, his slight accent told her that, and she couldn't trust him.

Her eyes glanced over to the remaining team, standing and edging toward her and these men. They knew that she could take care of herself, but that's what they were mainly afraid of. But this man, as he moved towards her, her brain triggered something. Before she could remember though, his comments spiraled downwards and towards her, violently. Seceretary... prostitute... How DARE he! Her fingers did not twitch or waver, the shot straight for the grip of her sword. Clenching tightly, she stepped closer to the tall man, her eyes not blinking for a moment as she stared into his hazel eyes. Fury, like her own red planet, bubbled within her. The grin on her face made her want to punch one of the shiny pearls from its socket. "Excuse me, Sir," she spat combatively at him, stepping ever closer, until her frame was looking to his with a fight in her eyes, "But I believe you need to watch who you're talking to, Sir."

Internally, she felt like she was always issuing warnings. It was in her training, but even with all of her wanting to attack the man, she issued him one last try. "I think you should just take your buddies and your drink and return to your table. Thank you." She turned, once again, and began to return to her quarters. Her long tresses shook angrily behind her. Renric and Tadashi moved from their small huddle to follow her, at a distance.
 
The infuriatingly thick grin remained plastered on Norik's face as the woman stared at him, but his eyes showed none of the drunken hatred and disdain that might have been expected. Instead his eyes were calm, calculating, studying and appraising the woman's every move and waiting for the strike that, somewhat unfortunately, never came. She was better then he'd thought. Even now, with rage and death written into every line of her graceful form, her every motion was perfectly controlled and precise. Well done; he was suddenly even more interested in provoking her, in seeing if her skill remained while infuriated.

But she was starting to leave, and there was really only one thing he could think of that was guaranteed to make her want to kill him and damn the consequences. It was a horrible breach of security and protocol, but that was half the fun. "I suppose you're right. We both should go back to where we came from. After all," he shifted his position until she could see his reflection in the polished metal door that led out into the corridor. "A Whore really shouldn't go wandering around without her pimp, and I'd hate to catch something from your scrawny ass. Have fun," he called out, a hand rising. Even in the door's reflection she could see the motion clearly; a hand rising with fingers extended in the shape of a gun, one finger twitching to pull the trigger and send a 'bullet' into her back.

The shit-eating grin was gone, now it was only a calm smile. That's right, I killed your friends and laughed about it, he thought. He hadn't actually laughed, but the taunt couldn't be said aloud. Come and get me, bitch. If she did strike, he would keep himself slow until she had gotten in a good swing or two, make sure his boys captured the footage of her definitively striking first. And after that, his boys would keep the Martians back while he had some real fun with her.
 
The movement of his fingers caught her eye, and then his "trigger finger" pulled, aiming for her. Celeste's face blanched, especially against the black red of her uniform. The Terran was attempting to get the bast of her, and he was succeeding. "There isn't any proof," her mind reminded her as she nearly turned to meet the man that aided in killing her squadron. With a strength-filled gulp, she continued on her path to her quarters, severely angered. The cocky grin seared into the soft flesh of her brain, threatening to stay until her dying day.

Slamming the door to her quarters did not make her anger subside in the slightest. The slam resulted in the rattling of her belongings that rested along the walls, but nothing fell. It wasn't the first time the door had been slammed as a result of her anger. The anger filled her though, and was carried in her veins thickly. It really always had for her, it was tough to allow herself to not let it control her. And at the moment it was in control.

After fuming for awhile, she threw herself on her bed and attempted to focus on what was happening. Closing her eyes, she pressed on her eyelids lightly with her fingers, attempting to jog her memory further past its capacity. The knocks that came on her door were easily ignored in her focus, Tadashi and Renric come to check on her.

The Terrans had been on the ship after all. The Terrans had killed her friends and her real only family, and she felt the anger welled up again. It was going to be a long night. And once sleep fell upon her, her mind was haunted by the loss of the team. However, the thing that hung within her though, was the face of the Terran in the bar.
 
Damn. That had been...impressive. He'd done everything he could to infuriate her as much as humanly possible, and still the Martian had enough self-control to walk away instead of starting a fight. Disappointing in terms of his plan, but it had certainly been a remarkable display. Norik was starting to regret the fact that their fight upon the station had ended so quickly before either of them had a chance to truly test the other. This one was certainly worth keeping an eye on, if only to be impressed by the exploits of a worthy enemy.

He returned to his men's table, and eventually the night's drinking and revelry came to a close as they scattered back to their respective barracks. Night on a space station was a rather nebulous concept, but the men were still given a full sleep cycle before the lights in their rooms snapped on and brought them back into the world of the living. Sleep had come but slowly for Norik; it always did the night after a mission, especially one in which they had lost men. But there truly was no rest for the wicked. It seemed as though he had slept only a few hours before the lights snapped on and his room's comp chimed, summoning him to another mission.


Shadow Brief 97206
This file will be wiped from storage upon reading

Intel recovered from Fabrication Complex 74 indicates that Mercury's weapon production facilities are sending materiel to ISTC stations. A shipment is scheduled to depart Fabrication Complex 39 thirteen hours from receipt of briefing. Locate and eliminate or seize the shipment. Black Light operatives expected. Authorized to kill or capture. No evidence.
 
RE: Romeo, Juliet, and the Black

Ignoring the knocks slowly made them fade into time. Her brain continued chugging on into the night, or morning was it now? Unsure, she opened her eyes and glanced at the clock. A martian hour or so had past, but it had felt like such a short amount of time. The uniform was uncomfortable to stand in, let alone lay in. Rising from the bed, she groggily stretched and began to take the uniform from her body.

Standing in the underclothes, she admired the dark maroon and black swirls that shimmered in the low light of her room. She had done so much to get to this point. To wear that uniform that weighed so heavy in her hands now. A uniform that her comrades would never be able to wear again. A silent tear dripped from her eye as she hung the uniform up and slipped back into her bed. Closing her eyes, she drifted off into a restless sleep that was broken up by cold-sweats when she attempted to throw herself from the terrible flashback of a dream.

Celeste needed to get past this, and soon. But she feared that it wouldn't fade for some time.
 
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