Captain Tord took a deep breathe. “ Any questions?” Looking around for any responses, seeing none, Captain Tord announced to his warriors, “ If you are not clear. Check with your team leaders for clarification. Good? Good. And double good! Dismissed!!”

The hanger deck exploded with activities, as maintenance crews, munitions techs, refueling jocks, and traffic controllers, waving their wands scurried about, like ants managing one half of a peanut butter and grape jam sandwich which hit the ground,outside their mound. The different color uniforms, different looking personnel, different smells, all spoke the same exact language. The language of premeditated war! Standing there, one could see out the flight deck to the immediate right along side the expansive airlock and the entry ports for each landing zones to the far, far left. If you turned 180 degrees about, you could behold the V-220’s already loaded with the Augtouke Dragons on the cranes in midair. As the robot crews placed each craft in place to be dropped, through the expedition portals. For all knew, only moments from now the expedition slide shall drop the Dragons down, to embrace the enchanting yet at the same time, macabre events down there awaiting them all.

As the last of the V-220’s refueled, the coupling mechanisms lifted each ship in place, gliding along a massive slide to join their sister ships for the drop. Anna looked up to she waved to some of the V-220’s flight command gunners, who saluted her with lucid nods of admiration. She continued her conversation with the wing commander of the squadron of the Blue Firebolt l interceptors. Anna kept talking to the wing commander, but she unconsciously turned to scan a quick look at her own interceptor gunship.

To Anna’s rear the smiling face of her own death dealer gunship, “Vigor”, smiled back at her with an imaginary toothy grin, revealing its own desire for ghastly happenings. For Anna, during times like these, her one person ship the “ Vigor ”, had a feel of its own. Yes. The Vigor. The Vigor was…. her source of transport and was……. manufactured to be a fighting machine, but something else lay in that design.

It knew. It knew that war, with its grandeur and vindictiveness, was just a few heartbeats away. And even stranger still….Anna 7 heard “ her “ moan. The Vigor sat there moaning, in a low repressed yet vicious moan. The Vigor moaned like a great sword sitting impatiently in its scabbard, holding its breathe until it heard the first scream. Until the blade would be finally whetted by the blood of their enemies. Anna wrestled with these thoughts from time to time, herself. Anna felt that way sometime. There was a cold-bloodiness in her from time to time that rose like smoke from an eternal flame. Also….could she be feeling a unnatural kinship….no…no…. an unnatural fondness to her ship? That – she – even - had – these - thoughts …. troubled her! How could she not…be troubled? The why and how, did Anna 7 know what Vigor felt? All of this was disconcerting to her also! That was crazy. Or was it? No way could she discuss this with her CT psyche evaluator, Dr. Rense. The only person she would even begin to speak to about this situation, would be Mac.

Her own self awareness capitulated to the ideology that she, among other things, was only 47.7 % humanoid. The only real certainty regarding her existence was she was a 22nd Consortium Triumvirate top secret. That she was more machine than humanoid, serving in the 22nd CT’s Imperial Forces ….. just like Vigor, her fortified transportation vehicle. What a joke! And the biggest joke of all, was that to those in the rest of her world, she was known as, Special Investigator Coordinator Anna Shavean. Yes. Ms. Anna Shavean, who held the highest numerical rank in the Marshall Warrant Department. She transferred in, quickly achieving this highest numerical rank in that division, which just happened to be ‘ the number seven ‘. That was purely a matter of consequence. Ha, ha, ha, ha ha.. And lastly, according to her military records on file at the 22nd CT military head quarters, she was born on the planet Setarips, where the intergalactic military contractor corporation, the Uasenirocu Factor Concern, Inc. was headquartered. Hummm. Imagine that.

Anna had been on the battle cruiser, named “Craving “ for a total of forty-five minutes, attending the briefing, being refueled and having the Vigor outfitted for just one ‘giga-volt ‘ bomb. Anna wanted it in her arsenal on this trip……just in case! As the flight deck personnel proceeded, making preparations for the hostilities of the day, Anna and Lt. Commander Motre Dnalrob exchanged their views about this next venture they were about to enjoy together. “I saw you skip in. Nice landing,” said the dapper squadron commander to his best friend. Anna give him “the never mind that crap “ look, “ I was distracted for a moment.” Motre asked, what he felt, was the next most obvious question, “How is Mac? “ “ I don’t know. I was on my way to rendezvous at the Blue Sun yesterday. But this opportunity popped up.”

“So…. how many did you bring this time?” Anna referring to the Blue Fireball interceptors. “ Orders are orders. I only brought 9. Ten of us including me. Actually. I thought we need only seven of us. But what do I know.” “Oh! You think you and your guys are that good?” “ Do not start with me!!,” reacted Motre acting like he was suddenly offended. “Besides, I can tell you are excited. Just look at you. “ “What? “ “ You can not stop smiling. I know you! The excitement is just dripping off you. You can’t even control the grin on your face……. Where have you been… anyway?” inquired Motre, truly happy to see his buddy was unharmed. ‘”Aaah….you know I am not permitted to discuss my missions,” replied an equally curious Anna. She desired to hear where Motre, had been deployed most recently. Anna deep down inside happily questioned Motre, because she was very happy to see him in one piece…. this time. The work they do for the 22nd CT, provided interesting locales but some very violent experiences. Besides Anna wanted to ask how his parents were doing, back there on his home world anyway.

What is Dr. Dramaric up to?
Where is he?

Read Chapter Seventeen