CROSSFIRE - Atlantis DSV - New Cape Quest

Riley noted the pragmatic use of his rank, and nodded sagely. For a moment, his
honed, experienced air of command appeared to show a weakness that was more than
uncommon and betrayed his burgeoning apprehension. “To its full extent, Admiral.”
Ainsley let out a sigh. Riley was sticking his neck out further than most in the General
Staff would ever be willing, and he suspected that the weight of consequence that might
come with that initiative might well cost the man more than just his standing. Whatever Riley
was expecting to come from this, he was willing to keep Ainsley – and the Commonwealth -
as far away from the epicentre as possible.
“Good luck out there, Ainsley,” Riley said at last - finally allowing a small hint of a
smile.
“You too, sir.”
~
Jane Roberts marched down the long access corridor from the hangar to the
stairwell, and took each flight by double-steps as she bounded up two decks on her way to
the B-deck flight command centres. Her webbing and gear still dangled from her flight
harness and she wiped a matted lock of black hair out of her eyes as she spun in a waltzstep
around a clerk who was taken off-guard by her ascent to rapidly step aside.
Dustin Coyle was only a few paces behind her, himself still pumping with adrenaline
that was only being further fuelled by an anger of what his squadron – and the Rapiers - had
just endured. The two officers rounded the final junction and paused for a moment for a trio
of flight controllers on their way out of the command centre who in turn saluted as they saw
the pair before quickly disappearing down the hall.
Standing in the centre of the FOC, Commander Rebecca Raincastle looked haggard.
She was the commander of the battlegroup‟s SEWACS squadron, and was still struggling to
take stock of the strike wing after the debacle that had just passed. Coyle tensed as he
passed her on his way through. While he knew it wasn‟t her fault, the lives of twenty four of
the best pilots in the fleet had just bee pressed against the wall for reasons no one seemed
able to understand or explain, and he desperately wanted answers.
“Roberts, Coyle,” she said quickly as the storm-bearing fighter pilots forded through
the command centre.
“Not now,” Roberts hissed.
“Sorry, Jane... Captain Banick wants to see you both in his office as soon as you‟re
done.”
“Yeah, I bet he does,” Roberts shot back as Raincastle fell in step beside her. “What
the fuck happened out there?”
“We still don‟t know,” Raincastle acknowledged. “Admiral Ainsley has a full
communications and sensor blackout in effect. Bridge hasn‟t said a thing.”
Roberts stopped abruptly and almost collided with the SEWACS commander in the
process. “Well maybe you should find out!” she snapped. “Your birds dropped the ball out
there, and our people almost died for it. So get out of my way, and do something useful.”
Raincastle‟s mouth fell agape as Roberts turned and headed for the briefing rooms.
Coyle put a firm but reassuring hand on her shoulder as he followed her out, looking back
apologetically as he passed.
Coyle didn‟t say a word as the two pilots strode in to Roderick‟s office to find both the
Captain, and Commander Richards, waiting near the end of the room.
“Captain, we sure would like to know what‟s going on,” Roberts cut in sharply.
“Stand easy, Commander,” Roderick ordered, raising a steaming, black mug bearing
the razor-winged crest of the Dark Angels. She sipped it as she walked back to her desk and
sat down, letting Richards remain at the side.
Roberts and Coyle attempted to relax, but failed to wipe the tension from their sweatcovered
brows. Richards smirked slightly as he pulled a towel from the sideboard beside him
and tossed it across to Roberts. The pilot snatched it from the air and offered him a half
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