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in Fleet Admiral Lon Vernadore’s comm link. He grinned. “Next up, convincing the Secret Space Program into a war. To kill the Kelhoon. We’ll lead the SSP to their death. That means you’re up, Mr. President.”

Craig snapped to attention. It was time to do what he did best. Lie his ass off, and this time to an admiral known as the 'Wolf'. He’d need to be on his best game.

6 J-Quadrant, Solar System - Flood of Dawn, Callisto

“How are we going to possibly find Bogle?” said Fox, resting the back of his head on the co-pilot’s chair.

“By searching for her,” said Rivkah, concentrating on the ship’s nav screen.

They were flying Fox’s Oospore Class 9 dropship over the Flood of Dawn, low and hugging the ice-cold terrain. They approached East Rise; an Atlantean city two klicks easterly.

Flood of Dawn’s cannons pounded the East Rise border, kicking up dust clouds full of debris and broken rocks. The bombardment filled the horizon in front of them and hid the horror beyond. The ground-pounding slowed the Kelhoon’s advance and kept the aliens at bay—a temporary solution to a bad problem. Eventually, the ever becoming sworn enemy of the Atlanteans, the Kelhoon, would circumnavigate the clouds or even tunnel under ground to reach Flood of Dawn, Callisto’s capital, home of Queen Liberty Speidel.

Rivkah steered the Oospore over a patch of dead trees, snow sprinkled on their branches. They were approaching East Rise fast, but Bogle couldn’t have reached or passed the border into East Rise, unless she had a ship of her own and hadn’t been targeted by one of the cannons. And as far as they knew, she was on foot.

Rivkah banked left, heading over a white and black dotted ridge and ascended up a small hilly range, then slowed. Small saplings grew in the seemingly barren soil, frosted white and devoid of nutrients, but they grew against all odds.

She brought the dropship to a hover and descended. It shook when it landed, the hydraulics whining as if they hadn’t been greased in years.

“What’re you doing?” asked Fox, adjusting his Atlantean armor.

Rivkah opened the cockpit. The ramp hissed as the pistons eased against the suction. “This hill is full of caves. She may be resting in one of them.”

Fox slipped an energy charge in his PPR-8, Plasma Pulse Rifle. “And so could some other odd-looking creatures.”

Rivkah pulled her pistol out of her holster and pushed the barrel against Fox’s temple. “Put it down. Not a chance in hell I’m going to let you accidentally pull the trigger on Bogle. If we pull the trigger, I’m the one to do it. Leave your weapon here.”

Fox pushed Rivkah’s gun away and leaned his head to the side, his jaw set. He sniffed and gave her a look, one that said, 'I don’t give a crap'. He turned toward the ramp, the rifle still in his hand.

Rivkah bent on one knee and steadied her gun. She pulled the trigger.

Fox’s rifle cracked in half, the barrel tumbled to the floor while he still held the hand grip. He looked at the broken piece and tossed it to the side. “Suit yourself, woman.” He exited the craft, mumbling curses at each step.

Rivkah holstered her blaster, shut down the engines, and hastened down the ramp. The cold air puckering her skin.

The outside terrain was bare, more high-desert with small white shrubs everywhere. Only a hint of green. Condensation billowed out of Rivkah’s mouth when she breathed.

Fox rounded a boulder and climbed a steep, rocky ascent. “Where we going, Rivkah?”

“Search, Fox. Keep your eyes peeled for any—” Just as she was about to say it, she saw it. “Footprints, nine-o’clock.”

Fox halted and inspected the ground. “Those are boot prints.”

Rivkah nodded, tracing the familiar insignia in the center of the print. “Atlantean’s boots don’t have ‘SSP’ inscribed on their soles.” Rivkah looked around, hoping for more prints with Secret Space Program emblems. “She was here. That we know.”

Fox grabbed a shrub and pulled himself over a small ridge, then lifted his leg over the lip and sat on his knees. “Right here.”

“You see her?”

“No. I see a cave.” He pulled out a flashlight. “I’m heading that way. You can search southwest.”

“Two are better than one.”

He scoffed. “Not against me. She’s a girl, remember?”

“I’m a girl.” Rivkah pulled herself up over the ridge. “Remember me kicking your ass?”

Fox grunted. “You got lucky several times. I wanted to kill you and was told to keep you alive on too many occasions to count. That hampered my fighting style.”

Rivkah stopped. Why was he helping her? There was something underneath it all. Something wasn’t sitting right in her heart, in her solar plexus. It ebbed and flowed like a stomachache. She couldn’t explain it, but the ache had a melancholy feeling, not acute pain.

“One minute you want us killed, the next you’re trying to save the Atlanteans here on Callisto from total annihilation, even to the point of helping Jaxx to do some odd disappearing act right in front of our eyes.” She unholstered her gun and pointed it at Fox. “What’s the real reason? Why are you helping us?”

“Don’t question me. You won’t get answers. I’m SSP trained, special ops. We never break.”

A cold wind buffeted them. Rivkah shut her eyes. Her inner vision reached out to Fox, two energy spindles twisting together, thrusting into his brain. She flinched when a hot blast of energy shot back at her.

She opened her eyes.

Fox was seething, breathing heavily, fingers curled into a fist. “You’re not the only one who can bend energy like that.” He twisted around, walking toward the cave.

She followed him, kicking a white rock to the side as she trekked forward. “I know why.”

Fox’s face reddened. “You know nothing.”

“Slade.”

Fox stopped, looking down. “He deserves to die.”

“I know that better than you.”

“He’s a traitor.”

“You and your traitor shit. When are you—”

He spun and glared at Rivkah. “Am I the only loyalist in the entire Secret Space Program?”

“Slade isn’t a part of the Secret

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