Red's frustration was like a pulse, steady and undeniable, as she leaned forward, her eyes narrowing with impatience. The tension between them was palpable, a thick, oppressive weight that filled the room. "Let's move on," she said, her voice sharp and firm, each word landing like a strike. "What happened on Ceres, Blue?"
Blue could see the shift in her demeanor—Red taking back control, reasserting her authority. She had always known how to steer a conversation, how to probe for weaknesses even when she didn't hold all the cards. He'd intended to guide the discussion to Ceres, but, of course, Red beat him to it. Her focus was unyielding, the kind that could make even seasoned officers buckle under pressure.
Before he could respond, she pressed on, the air between them crackling with the weight of unspoken accusations. "Your transmission for mission start was garbled. There's no way you didn't know that, but I ordered us in anyway. Standard protocol was for you to re-transmit the message after you cleared the channel." Her tone was clipped, precise, each syllable a reminder of the command structure they'd adhered to—even in the midst of chaos.
Blue's mind raced, replaying the events, but he couldn't recall any issues on his end. He caught Nova's eye, her holographic form steady beside him, sharing his confusion even though she held her silence.
Red's eyes sharpened, cutting into him with a precision that felt almost surgical. "Then how did your comms break through the radiation after the radiation was set to overload?" she demanded, her voice rising, gaining an edge that was impossible to ignore. "We couldn't connect with you through the mental link. Nothing came through."
The room felt colder, the walls closing in as Blue processed her words. From his perspective, the comms had worked, but Red's insistence told a different story. "Nova identified the radiation," Blue said, trying to keep his tone steady despite the tension, "as part of a cyber warfare suite embedded in the reactor systems. After we broke through the last reactor firewall and triggered the core overload, we realized it wasn't just radiation—it was specifically designed to jam communications and interfere with the mental link."
Red's expression remained stoic, but Blue could see the gears turning behind her eyes, the calculations she was making. She leaned back slightly, her arms crossing over her chest, creating a barrier between them. The silence stretched, heavy with the weight of a shared history and the things left unsaid.
"You disobeyed my direct order to evacuate," she said finally, her voice low, simmering with a restrained anger that she didn't bother to mask. When Red raised her voice, it wasn't a loss of control—it was a deliberate, controlled strike. "You broke mission parameters."
Blue felt the heat of her accusation like a brand, but he met her gaze head-on, refusing to back down. He had expected this, anticipated the sting of her words, but he wasn't about to let it break him.
"You're damn right I did," Blue shot back, his voice steady, though there was a hard edge to it now. The air between them seemed to crackle with the unspoken history of Ceres—the choices, the sacrifices. "Everything came through the mental link—you were all in danger." He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in. "I wasn't about to leave you behind."
The silence that followed was almost suffocating, pressing against his chest. Red's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with a complex mix of emotions—anger, frustration, something else that she kept tightly locked away. Blue knew she was weighing his disobedience against the situation's reality, the impossibility of the moment. She might have been furious, but he knew that somewhere, beneath that iron control, she understood.
He pressed on, his voice unwavering. "Besides," he added, leaning in, refusing to break eye contact, "I'm the best-qualified member on the team to manually plan teleport jumps through the Grid. If anyone could get us out of there, it was me."
Red's eyes didn't waver, but a storm brewed behind them—an intensity that spoke of battles fought and decisions that had left scars. She didn't like it, but she couldn't deny the truth in his words. Blue had always been the one to find solutions, even when none seemed possible. But it didn't absolve him from disobeying her orders, and he could feel that tension vibrating between them.
The silence between them grew heavy, but Blue wasn't about to let it linger.
"Tell me what happens next, Red," he said, steering the conversation toward the heart of the matter. "What I remember, what Black remembers, and what Pink remembers—it's all different."
Red raised an eyebrow, skeptical but intrigued. "What do you mean?"
Blue leaned forward, focusing on his recollection of the events. "On Ceres, I teleported in behind you at the central chamber. You were barely holding the line, using your Grid Boundary to boost everyone—our armor, our abilities.
I set up a makeshift teleport spire—jerry-rigged it with Nova's help. It wasn't stable, not by a long shot. We cut a lot of corners to get it working, bypassing safeguards just to force it online. The whole time, it felt like we were balancing on a knife's edge."
He could see Red processing his words, but she remained silent, listening intently.
"I interfaced directly with the spire to program the coordinates," Blue went on, his tone more intense. "Everything dimmed the second I jacked in—like being submerged in cold water. My awareness dulled, senses cutting out. I lost track of the battlefield—couldn't hear, couldn't see what was happening around me. But the spire held... barely.
Red's gaze didn't waver, but Blue could see the calculation in her eyes. She was always processing, always thinking three moves ahead.
"Pink remembers things differently," Blue continued, watching her closely. "She recalls you using your Grid Boundary to overcharge her holo decoys, amplifying the effects. She said she felt euphoria, like she was sending Elvenurus forces to the 'promised land.'"
He studied Red's expression, knowing how much she hated discrepancies. "But Pink also remembers something darker. She felt us die—she says she felt it after we sent Black through the portal."
Red stiffened. "And Black?" she asked, her tone guarded.
Blue's voice lowered. "Black remembers me being killed at the start of the battle. He said I didn't make it past the first engagement. No portal, no teleport spire. He fought like hell, but in his version, we all died in the explosion."
Red's expression hardened as Blue continued. "Both of them assumed you or I pulled a miracle out of the Grid, but none of it lines up."
The tension was thick, but Red wasn't ready to let go of control just yet. She leaned back, crossing her arms. "Show me Nova's recordings," she said, her tone sharp. "From the previous interrogations—Black and Pink."
Nova's holographic form shimmered into place, casting a pale glow across the room as she accessed the recordings. The space dimmed, and the screens filled with the chaotic imagery of the Ceres mission, overlaid with the conflicting accounts from Pink and Black. Red leaned forward, her eyes locked on the data, scanning every frame with a ruthless precision.
It wasn't long before the inconsistencies became clear—details that didn't match, timelines that frayed at the edges. The footage didn't align with the words spoken in the interrogation rooms, and the gaps between memory and reality grew wider with every passing second.
Red's fingers tapped a restless rhythm against the table, her frustration visible even as she tried to keep her composure. "This isn't what happened," she muttered, her voice a low growl. "None of this fits."
She looked back at Blue, and for a moment, her expression softened—not with sympathy, but with something closer to reluctant understanding. She almost didn't believe him. She wanted to dismiss his account, to find some flaw in the evidence. But Nova's recordings were thorough, precise, undeniable.
The truth, however fractured, was laid bare before them. And as the weight of it settled, Blue could see the strain it placed on Red, the cracks forming in her unwavering certainty. Even now, she continued to evaluate him, every shift of her gaze, every pause a reminder that she was looking for the truth hidden between the words.
And though the data spoke for itself, Blue knew that the rift between them was far from mended. They might have pieces of the story, but the full truth remained elusive, shadowed by the ghosts of Ceres and the mysteries that still haunted them both.
Red let out a slow, measured breath, her gaze lingering on the now-frozen holographic recordings. For a moment, she looked almost tired, the relentless drive in her eyes dimmed by the weight of what she'd seen. But then, like a switch flipping, she pushed back into control, her focus snapping to Blue with renewed intensity.
"Enough of this," she said, dismissing the data with a sharp gesture. The holographic screens winked out, leaving the room in the cold, sterile light. "You want to know what I remember? Fine. But don't expect it to line up with whatever stories they're peddling in those interrogation rooms."
She settled back, her eyes boring into Blue's. The tension between them had shifted—no longer the taut, brittle uncertainty of earlier but something deeper, more personal. Red was scrutinizing him as much as she was recalling her own memories, weighing his reactions to every word.
"Well, for starters," Red began, her voice steady but laced with an undercurrent of anger, "other than not being able to contact you via comms or the link—everything was going smoothly."
She paused, watching for any reaction from Blue, but he kept his expression neutral, letting her continue.
"Three wings were choked. Yellow found five times the amount of prisoners we expected in the medical wing. She radioed in, said she needed more men to get them out. They'd found all kinds of fringe science experiments being done on our people. I sent over 20 men to help her, and it was going good. Too good, even."
There was a hardness in her tone, a reflection of the tension she must have felt during those moments—the creeping realization that a mission going too smoothly was often a prelude to disaster.
"Then, Black's position got charged. Easy enough for him—he's a bruiser. I'm pretty sure he fought the first hundred men with his bare hands."
Blue could see the memory flash across her eyes—the raw strength that Black brought to a battle, a force of nature on the battlefield. It was an image that had been burned into both their memories, but now, even that felt distant, uncertain.
Red's expression shifted as she continued. "Pink's euphoria was... toxic. The sick jokes she made while pulling the trigger—it felt like nothing could go wrong. Her excitement was infectious, and even I started feeling like everything was going right." Her words turned sharper, more bitter. "But it was a false high. I should've known better."
Blue exchanged a look with Nova, but neither interrupted. The darker side of Pink's enthusiasm was something they all knew too well—something that could turn lethal if left unchecked.
Red's gaze darkened, her focus returning to the events on Ceres. "Then the alarms went off. Officers started coordinating responses on Pink's side. Their weapons had that damn resonance effect. You know the one—like every sword, spear, arrow, and gun was... singing. Not that it was anything new, but it's always a sour note, always off-key. You'd think the Elvinurus would've stolen a tuning fork from someone by now."
She shook her head, a flicker of disbelief crossing her features. "Next thing I knew, Black's side went boom. The shockwave was massive. Battle suits exploding, I think. It broke his lines, damaged his armor. I had to go help him—didn't want to risk the marines."
Blue could sense the tension in her voice when she mentioned Black, the way her jaw tightened. Red had always been fiercely protective of the team, and the idea of Black's position crumbling under an explosion must have hit her hard.
"Yellow confirmed her team was out," Red continued, "said she was falling back to the main room. They had found nothing else in medical worth stealing after some engineering kid ripped the data from the drives."
The mention of the engineering kid caught Blue's attention, and he made a mental note to follow up on that detail. But he let Red keep talking, her momentum carrying her through the story.
"Pink started using the automated platforms to let her team fall back. They were getting hit hard, but you could still feel her excitement," Red added, her tone shifting slightly. "Way more effective than drowning her in Red Bull."
But as she spoke, her expression grew grim, the weight of what came next settling over her like a shadow. "Right after I got back, I felt you teleport in behind me. I was angry—you disobeyed orders—but you helped us turn the tide. Morale surged. I was relieved in a way, you know? All of us together."
Her gaze turned piercing as she locked eyes with Blue, the unspoken accusation hanging between them. She hadn't forgiven him for disobeying orders, but she couldn't deny the impact he'd made in those final moments.
"I sent my Grid Boundary out—overcharged us. All of us were at full strength, and them? They were like pigs going to the slaughter." Her voice held a cold satisfaction, a reminder of the ruthless efficiency that had always defined her on the battlefield.
Blue remembered the sensation—his suit humming with power as Red's Grid Boundary boosted them all. For a moment, it had felt like they could win, like the battle was in their hands. But then Red's expression changed, her eyes growing darker, colder.
"That's when he showed up," she said, her voice a low hiss. She didn't need to say the name, but she did anyway, as if to exorcise the memory. "Blood Plague."
The name sent a chill through the room, the air growing heavy with the unspoken weight of that old enemy. Blue could almost see the crimson-clad figure in his mind, the impossible strength, the raw hatred that radiated from him.
"I know we've beaten him before," Red continued, her voice edged with venom. "He should've been dead. The Megazord sliced him clean in half." Her fists clenched, knuckles white with tension. "But that armor... it was different. Crimson red, stronger than before. He was stronger than before."
Blue nodded, his own memory of the battle surging to the forefront. He could see the way Blood Plague had moved, how he'd torn through their lines with a strength that defied explanation.
Red's voice wavered for just a moment, betraying a hint of doubt. "I asked Aegis about the reactor overload, and he said it was delayed by a few minutes. The heavy metals in the asteroid created a molten liquid seal around the reactor, trapping the gas as it released. It needed time for the pressure to build until it popped."
She shook her head, her frustration palpable. "We didn't have that kind of time."
"So, I ordered the Tempest to withdraw to Aquitar. Had the fleet fall back to a safe distance. The entire fleet targeted our position, and I gave the order to fire. We lost the battle, but we would win the war. One of the tri-auric cannons would cause a small rift, and then... it would all go boom. The asteroid would've vaporized."
Her voice softened, a trace of weariness creeping in. "We all went together. That was the plan."
At this point, Nova's holographic form flickered slightly, her tone dripping with a familiar, dry sarcasm. "Gee, calling down an energy weapon on your exact position. Can't imagine where Blue would come up with an idea like that." Her eyes flicked toward Blue, a ghost of a smirk on her digital face. "Maybe he's been taking notes."
Red's eyes narrowed, turning sharply toward Nova. The shift in her posture was immediate, a warning. "Stay out of this, Nova."
For a long moment, the room fell into silence, the weight of Red's final order settling between them. Blue could feel the depth of her decision—the cold calculation, the willingness to sacrifice everything for the greater good. It was the kind of choice they'd faced too many times before, but this time, something had gone wrong.
"And yet," Red said, her voice hardening again, "why did we wake up on Earth? Looking at the stars? I don't know, Blue." Her eyes narrowed, her frustration evident as she stared him down. "I figured you got us out somehow. Used the Grid to teleport us back to Earth. But..." She hesitated, her tone shifting, more uncertain than before. "I can't explain the cruiser. I don't know how that fits."
Blue didn't respond immediately, his mind turning over her words. The image of the engineering kid ripping the data drives from the medical wing stuck with him. No data drives had made it to Aquitar—or if they had, they weren't uploaded to the server. He would have known. Unless... unless they were being hidden.
After a brief silence, Blue's voice cut through the tension, carrying an edge of disbelief. "The stars? You don't remember the crash?" He studied Red's face for any reaction, but her expression remained carefully neutral, that controlled mask she always wore.
He pressed on, leaning in slightly as if he could force the memory back to her through sheer will. "The Aquitarian ship that was destroyed on Ceres. The one that fell out of orbit when the reactor overloaded. It broke through the atmosphere, and we barely managed to stabilize its descent before it hit the surface." His words were laced with urgency, each one pushing against the wall of Red's apparent amnesia.
Red's eyes narrowed, a flicker of confusion crossing her face, but she quickly buried it beneath a hardened exterior. "No, Blue, I don't remember any Aquitarian ship falling out of orbit. Just waking up on Earth, staring up at the stars."
Blue's frustration was palpable as he leaned forward, his tone growing sharper. "The wreckage was all around you, Red. Did you not verify the identity?" He paused, searching her expression for any trace of recognition, but her eyes remained guarded, lips pressed into a thin line.
"That ship was missing for ten years. It disappeared just like you did." Blue's words came out more forceful now, as if he could drive home the reality of the situation through sheer willpower. "You and that ship should've been running on the same firmware. The tech, the protocols—everything should have matched. You would've known it was Aquitarian as soon as you laid eyes on the wreckage."
Red's jaw tightened, and she met his gaze with a steely look, refusing to be swayed. But he could see the smallest flicker of doubt in her eyes, a shadow that hinted at questions even she wasn't ready to ask. For a moment, the tension between them thickened, and Blue could almost feel the unspoken thoughts passing between them, the tangled threads of memories they couldn't fully grasp.
Nova's holographic form flickered beside them, her digital eyes scanning the details with a precision only she could manage. "It's another gap, Blue," she murmured, her voice barely audible, but the concern in her tone was evident. "The ship, the wreckage... It's too significant to overlook."
She paused, tilting her head as if considering the data from all angles. "This could be a trauma response, something she can't control. The dissonance between her memories and reality—it's likely a defense mechanism, a way for her mind to block out whatever happened on Ceres. Aegis could help her cut through it, maybe provide the clarity she needs, or... she might come through it in time."
Nova's words lingered in the air, a reminder that despite everything, even Red had her limits. Blue glanced at Red, whose expression had turned stony, but he caught the fleeting hint of something—uncertainty, vulnerability, maybe even fear—before she buried it beneath her usual mask of resolve.
"She's not invincible, Blue," Nova added, her voice softer but no less serious. "And whatever's buried in her mind, it's keeping her from seeing the full picture."
Red's eyes flicked over to Nova, her jaw tightening at the suggestion that she needed help from Aegis to untangle her own mind. But she didn't respond immediately, choosing instead to focus her attention back on Blue. Her expression was controlled, but he could sense the tension rippling just beneath the surface. It was clear she wasn't ready to accept Nova's analysis—not yet, anyway.
Instead, she pushed forward with a question of her own, seizing the momentum of the conversation. "If this ship was missing for ten years, and you say I was supposed to recognize it... then what happened to us, Blue?" Her voice carried a mix of frustration and something deeper, almost desperate. "What's your theory? We were on that ship, we fought, and then... what? We just wake up on Earth, surrounded by debris? You expect me to believe that?"
Blue exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of her words settle between them. He knew that any answer he gave wouldn't fully satisfy her. The truth was, he didn't have a perfect explanation, just pieces that didn't fit together. But he also knew he couldn't afford to show uncertainty now—not when everything hung in the balance.
Blue noticed the shift in Red's demeanor almost immediately, the way her confident facade faltered just a fraction before she quickly masked it. Her usual poise had been cracking throughout their conversation, but now it was different—there was urgency mingled with something almost like fear, and he couldn't quite place the cause. Was it the confusion over her own memory, or something deeper? He wasn't sure, but he knew better than to push her further right now.
"You need to go, Blue," she said, her voice firmer than before, the edge of command back in place. She tried to sound like her usual no-nonsense self, but he could hear the undercurrent of tension running through her words. "Don't let the general find you here. It's obvious you're not supposed to be here."
She kept her expression neutral, but her eyes darted momentarily to the door, a telltale sign that she was aware of the risks. Maybe she was worried about being seen as vulnerable, or maybe she was trying to shield him from whatever unknowns lurked in this facility. Either way, she was right—he had overstayed his welcome, and they both knew it.
Blue hesitated, his mind racing as he considered pressing her for more. But he caught the subtle shift in her stance, the way her hand twitched slightly at her side as if to remind him that time was running out. Red was trying to protect him, or herself—maybe both—and he couldn't afford to misstep now.
"I'll find you when I get out," Red added, her voice regaining that familiar edge of confidence, though her eyes betrayed the lingering uncertainty she was trying to bury.
Blue couldn't help but ask, "How do you know they'll let you out?"
Her response came without hesitation, the words sliding easily from her lips, but there was something almost dismissive about the way she said it, as if she couldn't be bothered to entertain the idea of being trapped. "Simple, Mom will kill him if he doesn't dote on his little girl after ten years."
A small, sardonic smile curled at the corners of her mouth, a shadow of her usual self-assuredness. It wasn't just bravado; there was a deep-seated belief that her family's influence would reach even here, bending the rules and ensuring her release. Blue knew her well enough to understand the layers beneath her words. It wasn't just about family power—it was about maintaining control, refusing to let anyone else dictate her fate.
He gave a short nod, knowing she was right in her own way. "I'll be ready when you do."
Without another word, he turned and left the room, feeling the tension linger in the air behind him, like a shadow that clung to his back. Nova's quiet presence flickered beside him as they moved quickly through the facility's sterile corridors, her digital form casting faint, ghostly light on the walls. The weight of what they'd learned pressed down on him, even as his mind raced with possibilities.
As he reached the door, Red's voice cut through the silence once more, sharper than before, drawing him back into the room for one last warning.
"Oh, and Blue, one last thing…" Her tone shifted, more serious now, almost dark, as if she were sharing a secret meant for him alone. "Stay away from Dr. Zeddicus Zophram. They've sent him in here a couple of times already. I can't put my finger on it—but he's dangerous. I'm gonna shoot him myself if he doesn't stop prying."
Blue paused in the doorway, her words hanging like a heavy fog in the air. Dr. Zeddicus Zophram. He repeated the name silently, feeling a cold thread of unease coil through his chest. Red's tone wasn't one she used lightly. If she was warning him, it meant she'd seen something, sensed a threat he hadn't yet recognized.
He nodded once, acknowledging the weight of her warning before slipping out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him. As he walked away, her final words echoed in his mind, adding a new layer to the tangled mess of questions they still had to unravel.