Twelve years... after Operation Thor’s Hammer... after the Firekka Campaign...

Before which there was the matter of the destruction of the Tiger’s Claw at the conclusion of the First Enigma Campaign that followed Firekka... your court-martial...

I was exonerated. All the court could find me guilty of was negligence.

But they suspected you were responsible. Your tales of Kilrathi stealth fighters destroying it on 2656.033 were marked preposterous. Those that didn’t believe you were a traitor believed you were a coward—"The Coward of K’Tithrak Mang."

I spent nearly ten years in InSystem Security paying for the court’s idiocy. The Kilrathi had been using stealth "Skipper" missile prototypes as early as 2654—why couldn’t they believe they now had fighters?

And Angel... you spent ten years away from her, then?

Yes... ten years apart. But it would have been twelve... since I had her heart.

But did you?

Did I what?

Did you have her heart?

Caernarvon Station; Communication Room
The Gwynedd System, Isaac Quadrant, Enigma Sector
2665.113; 0600 Hours (CST)

“What do you make of this, Chris?"

Captain Christopher Blair shot a puzzled look to MCPO Thad Gunderson, who noticed something on a navcomputer MFD as he entered the comm room to bring Blair his morning coffee. The Captain looked down to see an enlarged blue blip on one of the MFDs. "We’ve got a capship, Thad." Blair cleared his throat, then addressed it over the comm, "Caernarvon Station to incoming capital ship, vector alpha-seven epsilon, please identify yourself. Repeat, incoming ship, identify yourself."

"Mayday! Mayday! Station Caernarvon, this is the TCS Concordia!" came a frantic female voice. "We are being pursued by Kilrathi fighters!"

The Concordia...

The readings on his MFDs confirmed it: CVS-65, the TCS Concordia, the third ship to bear the name. Since the loss of the supercruiser Concordia not long after the failed First Enigma Campaign, the flag of the Fourteenth Fleet had been transferred to the Confederation-class dreadnought/heavy carrier Concordia. That also meant Tolwyn was aboard...

"What is your status, Concordia?"

"Our escort, the TCS Beowulf, has been destroyed and our hangar bay is damaged—we can’t launch fighters! We request immediate assistance, Caernarvon!"

"Roger, Concordia—we’re launching fighters!" He closed off the channel, keying up the PA intercom. "Attention, all hands! Battle stations! This is not a drill! Captain Norwood, report!"

Captain Elizabeth "Shadow" Norwood’s helmeted visage appeared on his DataZig console’s VDU. With eyes that said "lemme go home" as they set on Blair, she groaned, "Just returned from a patrol, Maverick. What’s going on?"

"Don’t land, Liz! I’ll launch and meet you in space!"

P-64C Ferret 001
0950 Hours (CST)

Blair killed his afterburners four hundred klicks off the damaged Concordia’s bow, having finished off the last Sartha light fighter. He’d managed to take out three of them; Shadow had nailed two.

The Concordia’s comm officer appeared on his VDU. "Prepare for landing, Maverick."

"Roger that, Concordia."

TCS Concordia; Flight Deck
1010 Hours (CST)

A familiar face was waiting for Blair and his wingman when they climbed out of their fighters.

"Angel!" Blair exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"I am the wing commander of the Concordia’s flight wing, Christopher," Angel calmly explained. She’d used his first name once again—a good sign. "And I understand you and your wingman assisted us...? Thank you, mon ami. Without you, the Concordia might have been destroyed."

"When we got your distress call, I knew I was the best pilot to help."

"And I see you are as modest as ever, Maverick! Who is your wingman?" If Blair didn’t know better, he’d almost detect a note of jealousy as Jeannette sized Shadow up. Angel was probably wondering at how far his relationship with the woman went.

"Captain Elizabeth Norwood of InSystem Security, ma’am."

"Without Liz, I might not have made it," Blair added, hoping to add fuel to the fire and test Angel’s reaction. "She’s a good wingman."

The dark haired woman gave a blush. "Thanks, Captain. Just doing my best."

"You both did very well. I heard from the Admiral we outran the Fralthra cruiser and now that their fighters are destroyed, they will have a difficult time tracking us. The Fralthra nearly destroyed us in the last battle—we need some time for repairs before fighting her again. I must go to the bridge, but why don’t you meet me on the Observation Deck later, d ’accord?"

"I’m looking forward to it."

It wasn’t much of a meeting on the O-Deck, really... just talked for a couple minutes—idle chit chat. I found out about a lot of the Tiger’s Claw survivors... Apart from Angel, Spirit was on board. Taggart was back out in Covert Ops, to some degree or another. Maniac was out there being a squadron commander test pilot for an experimental new fighter. Hunter was still around, too. I neve—

You thought that was all it took, Christopher, didn’t you?

What do you mean?

You thought all you had to do was come walking back into her life for things to be as they were.

Maybe I did. I don’t know what I thought...

But you did get her back, didn’t you?

Yes... as I said... but first will you answer some of my own questions?

Not just yet, Christopher. Go on.

TCS Concordia; Wing Commander’s Office
The Heaven’s Gate System, Grills Quadrant, Enigma Sector
2666.356; 1225 Hours (CST)

Captain Mariko "Spirit" Tanaka was dead. Just like Shadow. Just like all those that died on the Claw.

The Society of Mandarins had gotten to her, convincing her that her fiancé, Philip—thought dead a decade ago—was being kept as a POW on a Heaven’s Gate starbase. The Mandarins had tried to blackmail her with this bit of information, hoping to use it to get her cooperation in betraying the Confederation to curry the favor of their Kilrathi allies. Instead, the once-reclusive woman rammed her F-53C Epee light fighter into the starbase, the torpedoes she’d been carrying going off on impact—both her, the starbase, and the fiancé that may or may not have been aboard were consumed in the blast.

Captain Blair entered Angel’s office with his head hung low. He was not in the mood for any debriefing; not in the mood for submitting any After Action Reports. "J-Jeannette, I tried to save her," he stammered out. "But I couldn’t..."

"I know, mon cher," Colonel Devereaux spoke. She was doing her best to hold together at the moment, but Blair could tell she had been crying before he came in. "Chris, I have given my life to this war... win back one planet, only to lose two more... and paying for our victories in blood. And for what? I’ve lost so many friends, seen so many deaths..." Angel sighed, looking as if she would burst into tears again at any given moment. "There is nothing left in me, Chris, nothing at all..."

Over the years, Jeannette had grown accustomed to being abandoned by those she loved. Her parents had been killed in the Pilgrim War, and the sisters who had raised her were little more than disciplinarians employed at an orphanage. Then, at sixteen, Mikhail had kissed her good-bye and had joined the Confederation Marines. Six months later she had learned of his death. The Kilrathi had torn him apart so thoroughly that only through dental work and dog tags could he be identified. Angel had fallen to her knees and had vowed never to love again.

But that vow had been difficult to keep. True, she had successfully avoided romantic relationships until Christopher Blair had come along, but the love she harbored for friends had already taken its toll: Zigmaster, Throne, Rosie, Youngblood, Bossman, Iceman, Knight, Halcyon, and now Spirit had all left behind their indelible marks. The shrinks had told her that her inability to become intimate was a natural defense mechanism against all of the loss she had suffered. She had become a textbook study in denial and insecurity, a psychiatrist’s cliché, a self-destructive fighter pilot who had allowed herself to experience only the most basic and necessary emotions, knowing too well than entire universe of sensations continually passed her by.

Blair took a step toward her. "I’m still here, Angel. And I’m not leaving."

The two embraced each other, giving in to the same emotions they had forsaken in the decade they had been apart. Their lips found each other, as did their souls.

A-17D Broadsword 102
The K’Tithrak Mang System, Isaac Quadrant, Enigma Sector
2667.049; 2025 Hours (CST)

The incandescent fireball that had been a 394-meter Ralatha destroyer died down only moments after Blair and Angel finished dispatching a wing of Jalkehi heavy fighters. The two wingmates afterburned away from the blast radius, forming back up several thousand klicks away. In a few minutes they would return to Nav 1 and jump back to the Concordia.

"We nailed him!" Blair whooped. It had been Angel that scored the torpedo hit, while Blair had flown cover. 

"You were wonderful, mon cher!"

"We’re a good team, Jeannette."

Angel couldn’t argue the point. "With the telemetry our navcomputers have scanned since we jumped in, we’ll be able to jump into Kilrathi space and attack their base at K’Tithrak Mang!"

Blair grinned within his helmet. "That’s the plan."

A connection, you two had.

More than that.

Oh?

We were soul mates.

K’Tithrak Mang Starbase; Flag Bridge
The K’Tithrak Mang System, Isaac Quadrant, Enigma Sector
2667.077; 1945 Hours (CST)

"What is it, Khasra?"

The Tho’reari and chee’dyachee Khasra nar Kiranka approached the dais out of the shadows, bowing. He found the Crown Prince standing before the viewports, observing the lush rainforests of K’Tithrak Mang III’s northern hemisphere. "My lord! A single human pilot has attacked our forward patrol—and is heading toward our position!"

"Maverick," Crown Prince Thrakhath nar Kiranka growled decisively behind him. He didn’t bother facing his cousin, who was becoming more and more insolent—if not treasonous—with every passing day. "The one the Kilra’hra clans have named ‘Heart of the Tiger.’"

"Are you certain, Lord Prince?"

"Can it be any other?" Thrakhath paused meaningfully. "I will deal with that insignificant pest. Ready our fighters for the humans’ main attack—I will take care of the human myself."

"As you wish, my liege." Khasra bowed again before hurrying away. 

F-57A Sabre 005
2005 Hours (CST)

To hell with what Tolwyn said—Blair was going to take out K’Tithrak Mang and that was all there was to it. He’d already been cleared of any lingering suspicion of responsibility for the Claw with the confirmation of the Kilrathi stealth fighters on 2667.063 when there had been the revelation that Major Zachary "Jazz" Colson was the Mandarin traitor aboard the Concordia. It had been Jazz that was responsible for the loss of his fighter’s flight recorder during the First Enigma Campaign in 2656, a sabotage that had shafted him away almost a decade on Caernarvon Station. When he’d rabbited from the Concordia upon his modus operandi being uncovered by Angel, Blair hunted him down, nailed him, and brought him into custody—but none of this was enough. 

More than he could ever owe it to himself, he owed it to the lives of the men and women that had went down with the Tiger’s Claw that fateful day on 2656.033.

"Ah, you fight well for a human!"

Blair ignored Thrakhath’s comment over his vidcomm as he let up on his afterburners. He performed a 180-degree turn, now positioning him for a head-on shot at Thrakhath with his particle and mass driver cannons, a position he took advantage of. 

He’d met Thrakhath face-to-face as a cadet on the Claw before the Kilrathi noble had become Crown Prince. It had been on one of the worlds in the then-System M-421A, "Tortuga," when Thrakhath’s task forces took to storming and destroying the renegade HQ of former Confed hero Daimon Karnes. After roughing him up on the surface, Thrakhath had left Blair alive to tell Confed that "to stand against the Kilrathi is to die!"

"Curse you, Terran!" were Thrakhath’s last words before his personal Bloodfang heavy fighter collapsed from a Spiculum ImRec that punched through its already-hammered aft shields. 

Maybe he ejected; maybe he didn’t. Blair had other things to worry about at the moment.

Taking shots from the K’Tithrak Mang Starbase’s flak and anti-matter cannons, Blair steadily lined his target up on his reticule and awaited ITTS lock. Blair received it.

"Here’s to you, Shotglass... belly up, old friend." He watched the torpedo he launched streak toward the starbase, worrying offhandedly that it might get prematurely destroyed by a flak cannon burst before it hit its mark. 

All of his worries were laid to rest when K’Tithrak Mang became an expanding, incandescent fiery gas cloud. 

"Concordia, this is Captain Blair, reporting one starbase down," Captain Blair spoke into his headset. "As well as Crown Prince Thrakhath."

"Outstanding! I’ll tell the others." It was the comm officer he’d come to know, Major Edmond. The older woman cracked a smile on his VDU. "You’re cleared to land, Captain."

TCS Concordia; Flight Deck
2105 Hours (CST)

As Captain Blair hopped down from his Sabre’s ladder, he found a whole gathering of officers, pilots, and even a few of the Marines in the Concordia’s detachment anxiously awaiting his return.

It was a hero’s welcome.

"Maverick, you mad fool! You were magnificent!" 

"That’s my job," was Blair’s matter-of-fact response. Unexpectedly, Angel lunged forward and kissed him. For several moments they kissed, neither one caring that half the Concordia’s flight wing and senior staff were watching the blatant, shameless act of fraternization.

"Blair!" Rear Admiral Geoffrey Tolwyn shouted, moving in front of Angel as they disengaged. As stern a reprimanding look as Blair had ever seen was on the Admiral’s face. "You have a lot to answer for, pilot! Disobeying orders, dereliction of duty, theft of Navy property, endangerment of personnel..." The scowl on his face lightened. It was a facade. "Nice work, Colonel Blair."

Had he heard that right? He came back aboard expecting another court-martial and he was to receive a promotion? "Sir...?"

The Admiral went on, in a tone of admiration seldom heard by anyone he had known in his career, "I never thought I’d say this... but I’m proud to serve with you on this ship, Maverick."

"Thank you, sir."

The Admiral stood aside, leaving Angel standing alone before him. Her arms were crossed, glaring at him behind a mock-serious look. "I have new orders for you, Christopher," she snapped, "and you’d better not disobey these—report immediately to my personal quarters with a bottle of champagne!"

No way he could argue with that. "Aye, aye, ma’am!"

And that was it?

Yes. For a while.

What do you mean?

It wasn’t long before Tolwyn signed me up for the Special Operations division of the Space Force and I temporarily departed the Concordia... first we dealt with the Ghorah Khar situation, when I had another face-to-face run-in with Thrakhath—

He survived your duel, of course.

Yes. We captured him aboard Taggart’s Bonnie Heather—turns out Khasra betrayed him and made a vie for the throne. He escaped and dealt with Khasra himself... meanwhile we put a stop to the Society of Mandarins once and for all, destroying their base at Ayer’s Rock...

Those were the days for you, weren’t they?

...

Your story with Angel... it doesn’t have a happy ending, does it?

No.

Then please continue.

But you still won’t answer my questions, will you? I don’t even know who you are.

Humor me, Christopher. I will tell you everything you want to know soon enough.

You promise?

Yes, I promise. Now continue.

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