The Venusian front had been peaceful for years. Captain Elara Vance, now an admiral, stood on the observation deck of the flagship, looking out at the clouds that had once been a battlefield.
"Admiral, the fleet is ready for inspection," her aide said.
She turned, her face calm but her eyes still sharp. "Very well."
She walked through the hangar, past the rows of fighters, her gaze settling on the young pilots. They reminded her of herself, years ago—eager, determined, ready to fight.
"Admiral, do you think the enemy will return?" one of them asked.
Elara looked at the clouds,
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The compound was dark, the guards patrolling the perimeter with flashlights and rifles. Major Elena Vasquez lay in the grass, her night vision painting the world green. Beside her, Sergeant James Chen studied the fence, the gate, the guard tower.
"Four guards," he whispered. "Two on the perimeter, one in the tower, one at the gate."
Elena counted, calculated, planned. "I'll take the tower. You take the gate. Miller and Sanchez take the perimeter. We move on my signal."
"Copy."
Elena crept through the grass, silent as a shadow. The guard tower loomed ahead, the guard's back turned.
"Four guards," he whispered. "Two on the perimeter, one in the tower, one at the gate."
Elena counted, calculated, planned. "I'll take the tower. You take the gate. Miller and Sanchez take the perimeter. We move on my signal."
"Copy."
Elena crept through the grass, silent as a shadow. The guard tower loomed ahead, the guard's back turned.