Though some word had begun to spread of Agra’s arrival Patricia Anson still remained untouched by the rapidly spreading rumors. She had not seen the Syncline ship plunge into the sector 15 hanger bay, nor thought of the muted alarm in the intensive care ward as anything more than another drill. She was more preoccupied with the dozens of patients under her care.

  “Doctor Anson,” a young man called in a faint raspy voice. Patricia put aside her data pad and managed a reassuring smile as she looked upon the shattered wreck of a man. A nurse dabbed his sweaty forehead as his fearful eyes locked with Patricia. The young soldier was little more than a frightened boy. He reached out with a trembling stump weighed down with medical hoses. He only glanced once at the conspicuously empty bed beside him.

  “I’m not going to make it am I? None of my unit made it,” he choked as tears streamed down his face. Patricia took a small carton of nutrient slurry from a nearby table and held the straw up to the man’s lips. He took a small appreciative sip as Patricia comforted him.

  “Don’t say that. You’re going to make it. Soon you’ll be in stasis; I signed the discharge papers yesterday. You just need to build strength,” Patricia said with a knowing look towards the nurse. The nurse knew now when Patricia was lying.

  “Thank you Doctor, Thank you.”

  Patricia moved on a quickly as she could. She retreated into the supply closet as soon as she finished her rotation. She couldn’t keep up the charade anymore and began to sob silently as soon as the door slid shut. Leaning against a shelf Patricia allowed herself to cry into her elbow. This was the only way she could cope with the cruel reality that more than half of her patients never made it. Imagining Greg or Adelaide in their place made it unbearable. Her husband’s mutilated specter more than anything haunted her nightmares begging for help as Syncline soldiers overwhelmed him. Adelaide would chase after him and Patricia always found herself unable to stop her. Luckily the sudden polite chiming of her wrist communicator spared her the pain of recalling her worst fear.

  “Doctor Manus. What a pleasant surprise,” Patricia answered cheerfully, her melancholy thoughts banished for the time being.

  “Patricia,” Manus began urgently. “What are you doing right now? Can you spare me a moment of your time to help me with a patient of mine?”

  “Certainly, did something happen during the drill?” Patricia frowned. The stress in her colleague’s voice caught her off guard. She sensed immediately that something was wrong. Patricia received a holographic video file instead of a forthcoming answer. Standing back she swiped at her wrist communicator and watched as a glowing hologram filled the room. The image of a semi lucid man now hung in the air in front of her, a conspicuous wound slashed through the shoulder of his blood stained survival suit. Patricia recognized the victim of a Syn mauling, though quickly noticed something she had never seen before as hands in the video tore away at some kind of field dressing.

  “What is that caked around the wound?” Patricia asked as she bent down into the projection. She heard the voices in the video express their own confusion.

  “You’ve never seen anything like this either?” Manus said with obvious disappointment. She heard a voice suggest her name in the video. “Maybe Doctor Anson would know”, they asked and unfortunately she didn’t. Perplexed, Patricia studied the strange organic mass as the man in the video began to stir. It seemed like he was reacting to the other voices on the video.

  “Greg,” he said weakly, “Agra.”

  Patricia froze. Had she heard him right? Why had he said Greg’s name after hearing her own and who or what was Agra?”

  “Where did this man come from?” Patricia demanded.

  “I don’t know, the soldiers who brought him wouldn’t say, but whatever is going on is not a drill,” Manus said. “The hallways have been flooded with soldiers and my section is under lockdown.”

  “I can be down there right away,” Patricia quickly volunteered. She hung up before Manus had a chance to say anything else.

  “Greg,” she repeated with hoarse disbelief. Patricia felt faint. That man had said her husband’s name, she was sure of it. No other explanation her mind conjured could convince her otherwise. It was impossible for the mysterious young man to know her husband, and yet she felt certain that he somehow knew something. Who or what was Agra? Mind racing Patricia rushed through her ward and towards the main corridor.

  “Is something the matter?” one of the nurses asked with concern.

  “I’m not sure yet,” was Patricia’s rapid response as she rushed out the door. As she ran she pulled up the contact information for Marco Crozier. This time though the call didn’t go through. It looked as though the network had gone down. Patricia quickened her pace, certain now that the flashing lights and shrill alarms meant that something out of the ordinary was really happening.

  Wary SMCAF personal appeared at every intersection and from behind every door as Agra was led past them by a tense looking procession of military police. Nobody had seen anything like the proud Syn carrying herself through the corridors as if she wasn’t a prisoner. The other Syncline in her party trailed after her corralled by more MPs and followed by stunned members of SMCAF High Command. Audrey Sparks and the rest of the other soldiers had been ordered to stay behind and secure the Syncine ship. One less problem Adelaide thought as she followed after Marko Crozier trying to process what was happening. She watched the straight faced General fidget with his hands behind his back as she shuffled after him in a sort of daze.

  “This can’t be happening,” she muttered to herself as people crowding the unprecedented procession began to recognize the Daughter of Devils. It was easy to ignore them. All she could think about was the Syn walking ahead of her, what she had said, and who she claimed to be.

  “Sister?” Adelaide mouthed wordlessly as she repeated the painful word in her mind. Who does she think she is?

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  “She thinks she’s your sister,” a lazy little voice in her head pointed out bluntly. Adelaide screamed internally at the suggestion. It was impossible.

  Greg Anson had long been a washed out holographic memory so how could Agra believe that he was her Father? The Syncline had killed him! They were the reason why she had never known her father, why she had to fight so hard to prove to herself that she was his daughter. Agra on the other hand didn’t need to prove anything. The way the Syn spoke about her Father made it obvious that Greg Anson wasn’t some abstract concept to her. Agra could justify her claim with the proud confidence of someone who had actually known their father. Somehow Greg Anson had lived to raise a Syncline as his daughter. This truth more than anything else fueled the chaotic mix of emotions stewing within Adelaide gas she found herself racing up beside Crozier.

  “I promise you I will get to the bottom of this” Marko told her. He was frowning, his distant gaze focused on Agra as he hung his shoulders shamefully.

  “Hasn’t she told you enough?” Adelaide replied sharply. “My Father was alive and none of you knew. I spent my whole life thinking he was dead and a Syn has to tell me that he was alive out there somewhere. Do you know what this means? We abandoned him. You abandoned him. That’s what I’ve been fighting for?”

  “Quiet down Adelaide,” Crozier warned. “We don’t know that for sure. Please find your mother and leave this to me.”

  “Why should I be quiet? I’m the one who deserve answers and I will get them with or without your help.”

  “Adelaide please go before I have you taken away.”

  Adelaide had enough of him. She ignored his pleading voice as she broke away and stormed towards Agra. Quintek watched as she was confronted by his guard recognizing himself in the human as she glanced at him with savage intent. All her fury was directed at the men rushing to stop her

  “Step back now, I’m warning you!” one of the MPs barked. Adelaide ignored them as they raised their weapons. She was focused on Agra who had stopped to acknowledge her.

  “Adelaide,” Agra eagerly exclaimed.

  “Be Quiet and keep moving Syn!” one of the MPs snarled while the others moved to block Adelaide’s advance. Most were hardly more than teenagers, though their commanding officer looked like he had seen some actual fighting.

  “I won’t let you pass,” he said as he brandished his stun baton. The glowing blue rod crackled in his hand as he took a step towards Adelaide.

  “Come on what are you waiting for,” Adelaide encouraged with a sly grin. She ducked to the side of his thrusting attack with her feet firmly planted on the floor and her fists raised. She then followed up with one step forward and landed a crippling blow to his face. The MP stumbled back with blood spurting from his nose as others rushed to subdue her. Sensing an opportunity Quintek lunged at the nearest soldier taking them by surprise. Helmets clattered to the floor as he flipped the soldier into the air and hurled them into a pair of soldiers running towards Adelaide with a yelping crash.

  “What are you doing?” Agra hissed with confusion as Adelaide backed up beside her. Quintek soon joined them with an equally startled navigator as he was pushed forward by the Syn soldiers following Quintek’s lead. Voices yelled over each other as the situation escalated. Soldiers with rifles rushed in from both sides of the crowded corridor in an attempt to maintain order. Adelaide had won her precious few moments with Agra.

  “He told you to find me didn’t he?” Adelaide demanded. “My Father wanted us to meet didn’t he?”

  “Yes, but not like this,” Agra snapped with dismay.

  “They were never going to let me speak with you; this is the only way we were going to talk.”

  “Not for long,” Quintek grumbled as far more soldiers than he could handle directed their weapons at him. He raised his clawed hands with a defiant hiss as he scolded himself for trusting Agra.

  “Oh please, you think I wanted this to happen,” Agra audibly growled in response to the buzzing contempt reverberating through her mind.

  “They won’t hurt us,” Adelaide assured them confidently as Marco Crozier and other members of SMCAF high command pushed their way past the onlookers and soldiers. She turned towards Agra with an urgent expression on her face.

  “What happened to him?” she demanded with a choking whisper, “Why couldn’t he be here himself?”

  “Enough of this!” a Czarist Union Admiral yelled as he claimed authority. Adelaide recognized the seething man as Aleksander Ramsey, by far the most aggressive of the SMCAF Admirals and the main architect of the recent failed offensive.

  “We should have killed them when they arrived, and any traitors aligned with them,” he declared with his harsh teeth grinding accent. He raised his hand to give the order, but Marco Crozier intervened.

  “Absolutely not,” Marco countered fiercely. He addressed his fellow generals with a desperate plea. “Can’t you see this is what we’ve been waiting for? To stand a chance against the Syncline we need to understand them, and now you want to kill the one Syn who has ever come to us?”

  “How can we trust it?”

  “If Lieutenant Greg Anson truly raised her than I see no reason why we shouldn’t,” Marco said with a hesitant pause. He scornfully glanced at Admiral Aleksander Ramsey as he admitted, “I knew Greg Anson. He was a good man and my best friend.”

  His heart sank when he heard the word traitor spat at him amongst the disapproving whispers of his comrades .Agra however reacted with eager recognition.

  “You were my father’s best friend?” she squawked, “Are you Marco Crozier?”

  The man’s face seemed to light up a bit. Despite everything his father had been through he evidently still spoke about his good friend often enough for Agra to know his name.

  “Ignore the old fools, tell me what happened to my Father,” Adelaide hissed with growing impatience. She stepped towards Agra with raised fists. “Tell me now.”

  “Quintek stay back!” Agra ordered. Quintek flinched suddenly unable to resist Agra’s will. His mind buzzed painfully. He knew what she planned to do.

  “Agra wait!” Quintek pleaded, “Don’t-“

  Agra parted her beaky mouth in preparation for what she wanted to say. She shut out Quintek’s insistent warnings as she formed the words. It was the burden she had accepted long ago, a truth her father’s daughter deserved to know regardless of the consequences.

  “He’s dead and I killed him.”

  Adelaide screamed. With a hoarse hate filled roar she lunged at Agra and tackled her to the floor. Blood smeared her wrists as she mercilessly pummeled Agra over and over. Marco yanked a rifle from a soldiers hand and shot Quintek before he could tear Adelaide apart. Agra said nothing even as he crumpled to the floor beside her. The pain of her and Quintek’s shared wounds exploded in her, yet she accepted blow after blow with a sad wincing stare even as Adelaide continued to land blow after blow. Tears streamed down her face. A lifetime of sorrow released at last. Finally Adelaide sent her fist crashing into Agra’s face with a sickening crack. Gurgling on blood pouring from her smashed beak Agra shut her eyes as Adelaide raised her fist to land one last fatal blow. Adelaide hesitated at the sight of red blood flowing from Agra’s wounds. Tears clouding her vision were not enough to hide this impossible fact. Agra did not bleed blue and in an instant Adelaide was paralyzed by the crimson smeared memories of a dozen battlefields at once.

  “Father wouldn’t have wanted us to fight, but who am I to stop you. I deserve this,” Agra choked. Her voice failed. Her eyes fluttered and she went still. Adelaide felt dizzy. She did nothing as Marco yanked her off Agra. A ringing sound drowned out the world. Red blood smeared her hands. What had she done?

  “Adelaide?” Marco mouthed with a horrified expression. She didn’t reply. They both knew that she'd finally cracked. Soldiers and guards were screaming something as the Navigator rushed to Agra’s side. The Syn weati g a silver collar necklac collapsed beside her with an anguished shriek. A woman in white was helping the other Syn roll a twitching Quinek out of a pool of blood. It took Adelaide a second to recognize the disappointed face of her own mother. Adelaide stared back at her with tears flowing down her face as a stone faced soldier zip-tied her wrists and dragged her away. She did not resist.