Category: Story Post

"Taking the moral high ground is a luxury we don’t have, Hawthorne. This isn’t about ideology like it was with the Resurgency, it’s not about territory and self-determination like it was with the League. This war is one of survival, sir. We just have to be the ones standing when the dust settles. No matter what the Inner Worlds might delude themselves into thinking or saying, there’s only way to coexist with butchers like these. And if – if! – some sort of settlement is reached, do you think that the Lefu are going to complain about the treatment of one pilot, when they’ve slaughtered millions?”

“We’re almost there,” Hiro said between clenched teeth, his knuckles white on the armrests as his ship and crew died around him. The Hydra hadn’t blown him out of the sky. That was, he supposed, a good thing. But their careful bursts meant that they weren’t trying to kill him; they were trying to take him. If they’d gone to heavier or rapid fire, there’d be nothing left of his command but free-floating atoms. Their arrogance was going to cost them. He was going to make sure of- “Target hit!” the exultant cry came from one of the gunnery stations. “By God, target hit! She’s venting air!”

The redhead leaned back in her chair, brushing the loose forelock of hair out of her eyes as it again slipped down into them. Even with the fleeting contact she’d had with Arykka, no one was any closer to understanding why the Lefu had attacked them without warning or provocation. You are Enemy. That is enough.