This was followed by the reveille bugle call. Contrary to the actual words of the announcement, all hands were not expected to rise at this time, just the day shift. It was only out of respect for tradition that the classic words were spoken. The terrestrial norms of Navy tradition were largely irrelevant out in space, but they helped keep the crew grounded no matter where they were or where they came from.

Once the bugle call finished, the intercom chimed again for a follow-up announcement.

"As we are not part of Fifth Fleet, we have been placed in reserve to aid in orbital defense should the outer defensive lines fail. I want each and every one of you combat ready for whatever scenario we may face. That is all. Mfume, out."

While a number of members of the squadron raised their voices to get the honor of leading the squadron first, a female voice rose above the rest.

The owner of the voice went a step further by breaking formation, running in place while pumping her fist in the air. It was an unusual sight by any normal measure, but even more so given the source.

To characterize Lieutenant Han as being in rare form did not even begin to describe it. This was the same woman who the Commander knew for being little more than a sulky, insubordinate child, but something had come over her and he wanted to hear what it was, even if her answer wound up being some sarcastic crack that would get her stuck giving a piggyback ride to her wingmate for all 10k of the fun run.

Commander Figueroa did not really care what it was. If even someone like her, with her reputation, could show this much motivation, it was bound to boost morale and now was the time for it.

While Matt was idly poking a meatball with his fork, Sean asked him, "What'd ya hear from your meetin' with ol' Bun a' Steel?"

At 0900, General Pfeiffer called all the squadron leaders in for briefing on the current situation. Matt planned on holding a briefing for his squadron in the afternoon, but there was no need to remain tight-lipped until then.

Sean crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair.

Sean leaned in and said in a low voice, "Whatever magic they rolled out ta get us back here so fast don't get rolled out for just anythin'. Somethin' big's goin' down."

Sean shrugged.

That did not really tell Matt anything, but the higher-ups keeping them in the dark was nothing new. Obsessing over it would not change anything. The best they could do was roll with the punches.

Sean cracked a bit of a grin. It always did seem to amuse him how Matt dealt with situations.

How did he know it was her? Well, no point in worrying about it now. The door slid open and Ally walked in. Chaplain Teufel was standing in front of his desk, motioning to the chair that was waiting for her.

Ally simply nodded silently. She had not grown any fonder of tea, but Chaplain Teufel always offered and she always accepted.

Once he served Ally a cup of tea, he poured a cup for himself and took up his usual position half-sitting on the edge of his desk. He did not say anything at first. He simply sipped his tea before finally breaking the awkward silence.

Somehow, being told to take her time helped Ally muster the courage to start talking about her reason for paying the Chaplain a visit. Although she had talked with him several times, it never stopped being awkward for her to open up with him, even though she had confided in him things she wouldn't tell anyone else, not even Jack.

Slowly, she began, "It's about this morning's announcement."

Chaplain Teufel didn't need much to move the conversation along.

In all honesty, Ally didn't think about how close or how far this attack was supposed to be. All she knew is that the Shellies were here, now. Even if 'here' was being broadly defined as everything within a one-gim radius.

Chaplain Teufel took a long, quiet sip of his tea before saying anything.

Ally could only nod weakly. The Shellies were their enemies. How many thousands had they killed? How many thousands did they turn into mindless cyborg drones? The war had been going on longer than she had even been alive and it wouldn't end until one side or the other was wiped out. And all for the kindness of one person, she couldn't do her duty as a soldier.

Throughout her training, they told her, "Your job is to kill or to assist in killing." That didn't make much sense when she became an admin clerk, but then they made her into a sniper. Whatever they did to her, they made her into a killer. She didn't have any memory of going into action, but she did remember the aftermath of what happened on the Hades, the dead guards all around her. Was it really any different, what the Shellies did to the people they took and what the government did to her?

Ally nodded, but that wasn't enough for the Chaplain.

Ally tightened her grip on her teacup and said, "You said I'll have to make a decision, between what I'm told is right and what I think is right."

The Chaplain got up from his desk and walked up to her, leaning in uncomfortably close. He tapped her forehead and said, "Not what you think is right, Allison." He poked her square in the chest. "What you feel is right."

Ally blushed a little. It was awkward how forward the Chaplain was. It wasn't that she thought he had any bad intentions towards her but rather that he didn't let the normal social strictures tie him down. People were always so paranoid about what they said and did, always keeping each other at a distance lest the slightest slip ruin careers. It was the same in both the military and the civilian worlds, but it seemed worse in the military, like they were being judged more harshly, like they were animals that couldn't be trusted. Chaplain Teufel was different... almost in the same way Auntie was different. Maybe that was why she kept coming back to him. When she was in his office, she could forget her fear, if only a little bit for a little while.

The Chaplain rested his hands on Ally's shoulders and told her, "Remember that, Allison. It'll guide you through the tough times and difficult decisions you face."

With that taken care of, Aswani took the initiative to ask the first question.

Even though the VFA-999 was designated a Special Operations squadron, the rank and file were being left out of the loop the same as all the other squadrons in JAD-9. The Commander, of course, had other ways of getting to the truth of the matter.

There was nothing to gain by telling everyone how dire the situation was, especially in light of SupCom's response, but Commander Joachim knew his men could handle it.

Lieutenant Gitell asked, "How do we play it, sir?"

There was no need for unauthorized action, not yet at least. If the plan was going to work, they had to wait for the opportune moment, even if it meant thousands had to die first. If thousands had to die so that millions would be saved, that was simply the bitter reality of it all.

Commander Joachim was never the sort to put all his eggs in one basket. He had every confidence he and his men could get the job done, but he always had something prepared in the event Murphy's Law wrecked his plans. Though he typically played his cards close to the chest, he let his men in on this particular contingency plan because it would be up to them to see it executed.

Gitell, ever skeptical, asked him, "Are you sure about this, sir?"

The Commander would rather avoid putting that kind of weight on his shoulders, but he was confident that his ace in the hole would get the job done if he failed. Of course, he did not have any intention of failing.

No wonder she was being more active than usual. Jeff was not as adroit as she was at multitasking kissing and talking, but he managed to reply, "Where there's a, mmm, mmm, a will, mmm, ah, there's a, there's a way."

Jeff was a little neurotic when it came to precise speech, so it bothered him that he had so much difficulty forming complete sentences with his mouth being otherwise occupied. However, Eva broke off her kiss and looked him square in the eye. Her concern was clear.

At first, Jeff considered lying to her. What good would it do to worry her? Then again, she wasn't a child. Surely she could handle the truth.

Eva's eyes widened.

Again, Jeff considered lying to her, but decided instead to give her an abridged version of the truth. She didn't need to know the details.

Jeff shrugged.

Even though you couldn't tell on account of his visor, Jeff looked aside and said, "There are going to be a lot less than that even in the best case scenario."

Jeff looked back to Eva and said, "It means that SupCom might put the entire Martian Sphere on the chopping block just to see what the Shellies will do."

A lot of native Earthers didn't care much about what happened to the Colonials, but Eva wasn't like that. Jeff had always told himself that caring about other people, especially those you never even saw, was nothing more than a liability. His time with Eva was making him question that, at least as far as she was concerned, but it didn't take much mental gymnastics to see things from the perspective of the bean counters back in Atlantis City.

Eva hugged him tightly and whispered into his ear, "If it comes to that, Jeff, I'll get us out of here."

By controlling the Kasfeys, Eva had the power to instantly get them out of any sticky situation, so long as the engines still worked, that is. He never expected her to become such a valuable asset when he took the chance to save her from the saboteurs last year, though she had since become more than just an asset to him.