The Black Dragon sped through the open space of the Omega-47 system. The local chatter indicated the early stages of a corsair attack on hessian interests. Namely Viernheim. Just another random battle in a war torn system. Just another day in her life.



The Reaver Mercenary Company was at the forefront of the business, generating more income everyday. From a short team of less than a dozen mercenary drunkards, killers and rapists (Lazuli), the company, or just plain The Reavers grew to at least 150 strong, raging from support crews to security teams that were hired to keep the peace in several locations, Freeport One being the most famous one. All since Silver became the owner of it. Ever since she left the ownership to Cerulean, the famous Silver Reaver was seen in random spurts, finally free of the shackles of leadership and diplomacy.
And now. Free to enjoy the incoming carnage.

After being chased by two Titans into the nearest cloud, the Black Dragon was hurt. More than hurt. It was damaged beyond belief. Silver knew the craftsmanship was exquisite when it came regarding her Betty, but in the end it was nothing more than a paper plane. Surely sleek and deadly, but frail. Her comms were down, two gun mounts were destroyed and the core was losing power by the minute. Her radar flashed a contact, and it was not the contact she could hope for. More corsairs, coming to look for their lost brethren. She looked for a way out and there it was. Not far, a jump-hole was flashing. Salvation or Death.



The engines were spewing H-Fuel and burning hot, with flames that were green in color. But still she pushed her Betty to the utmost limits. Silver started the launch sequence and as soon the jump-hole started to open, the Black Dragon lunged into it.

But something was wrong. Instead of the shaky tunnel of light, it was a brief explosion and quake, felt throughout the entire ship. Engines got ripped apart. The energy core melted. And a cloud that she did not knew came into view. Cracks in the cockpit duraglass started to appear, and Silver knew she wouldn't have a minute before starting to breath cold space dust. With quick reflexes, she pressed the commands to prepare her cryopod and the emergency beacon. Not a moment too soon, because as the cryopod closed, the duraglass broke with the pressure and all the air in the cockpit got sucked out and exchanged with cold deadly void. As she felt the cryopod humming and starting to perform a pre-cryo diagnostic, Silver wondered if this was finally the release she yearned for so long. The small console beeped, indicating a change in the standard preset values. She selected the information screen and there it was a surprise she did not expected. She was pregnant. And as her mind was still trying to process this new information, the sleeping agents dispersed and her eyes closed for a long, long wait.

The haze in her mind was something horrid. Not like the mornings after the parties filled with Jack Daniels and mistakes. Her eyes felt like they had been glued shut, and took all her will and strength to push that haze away and force herself to open her eyes. Slow at first, all she saw was dark clad figures, holding what it seemed weapons. But one symbol in their arm stood out. Red as the bloody dawn. Something stirred. Something wailed. And white coats with white gloves showed up all over her. She tried to lift her hand to stop them, but her strength was gone. She once again forced herself to make her body move. And her eyes darted to her hand.



Bony, white, frail. What happened to her? How much time did she spent in that pod? How did they found her? And suddenly her mind raced to the biggest question she had. Was her baby alright? The white hands covered her eyes, pushed her back. Needles were injected. Once again, the haze started to pull her back, and she let out a small laugh. Her voice dry and raw sang a small tune. One of the white men came closer to listen what she was saying.

"Booony hands...
Blue and white."

Her breathing was shallow as darkness was coming.

"Reeeeed veins...
Filled with fright."

She felt so weak. And this exertion was taking its toll.

"Cannot move...
Cannot hide."

The white man shook his head and was starting get away from her. Her bony hand grabbed his coat. He turned back and came closer once again.

"Hope that Death will take ya tonight."

Her hand darted to the man's face and shoved an finger through his eye. The man started screaming and fell to the ground. Hands came all over her, pushing her against the pod. A gun was steady and aimed at her face. All she could do was to grin at it, as her body was done with this last spurt of movement. Darkness finally came, as the man started to convulse on the floor and finally died.
Last one before i die, she thought. Last one before the void.

Her dreams were vivid, almost real. Like a drum, right near her head, every heartbeat that came to. And with every heartbeat came the words, repeated with obsession.

"The Coalition is Truth."
Thump.

"For the Red Dawn."
Thump.

"Sirius is ripe with corruption."
Thump.

"To trespass New Moscow is to invade. To invade New Moscow is to die."
Thump.

Each thump, driving further more into her head. Red.

All she saw was Red.
And then a laugh. A single chilling laugh that held everything at bay, in silence.
In the darkness, a set of eyes burned. Her eyes. She tried to wake up. She tried to clench her hand.
Those eyes kept burning, looking at her. They did not go away. They did not relinquished.

"We are not done yet. There's Red in your ledger. Time for the 'verse to pay. Wake up."
"Witch."

The small children looked at her, slightly sleepy. Silver was fazed. She, a mother, again. Only this time, instead of being lost like the first time, there she was. Ten fingers. Ten toes. And her eyes. In a long lost past, she was to be a mother once. She was to be married once. And she lost it all, due the capricious nature of a dead man and life. But now, those eyes were smiling at her. And she smiled back. A warmth filled her, in a way she did not remembered in a long time.

"Hi..."

She whispered, her voice coarse. Her mind still didn't registered everything.

"What will be your name, kiddo?"

The baby laughed once and then became silent, solemn. She knew those eyes. It was her eyes that she saw every time in the mirror.

"Helene to me and your own."

She reminded the name she wanted to give to her firstborn. A fitting name for whom she hoped to grow to be the most beautiful woman to ever exist. The baby laughed, rosy cheeks spread apart. Silver tickled her nose and hugged it slowly.

"Hel to the rest of Sirius."

The baby laughed once more, and Silver smiled. A fitting nickname for whom Silver hoped Helene would be.. Death. Silver pulled her from her embrace and placed her on her lap, watching her. Helene was well fed, happy for all accounts. Well treated. Like her. Her hands were not the white bony ones she remembered last. And she could feel her own strength coming back in full. The Coalition treated her well. The thought assaulted her mind. She looked at Helene. Was this another twisted way of torture of the Communists? Was she to be ripped from her hands like a bad joke for them and a bad nightmare to her?
Her mind throbbed.

"No."

They have treated her and her child right. They would not go through all of this for one twisted joke. The Coalition was nothing like this. Determined yes, but not true monsters. All they did was in truth a response to something she had witnessed first hand.

Sirius is ripe with corruption.

With that thought in mind, she cuddled Helene the best she could and cherished the moments to come.

She cuddled the kid in her arms like a cradle. Felt natural doing so. She was slightly surprised with the revelation of her instincts. Seems there was an inkling of truth to what they say about motherhood. She turned to the man and tried to recollect her memories.

"Omega-47... A 'sair attack was imminent."

The baby started to doze off in her arms, feeling safe. Silver caressed carefully with her finger the forehead of Helene.

"Was there huntin'. Managed to shoot down some snubs, but got too much heat on my behind."

Helene shook a little, as she entered an early stage of her sleep. Silver let out a warm smile. This was not the bloodthirsty Reaver. This was a mother. Even her memories seemed not her own.

"Two followed me to a cloud. Only i came out. In a pretty bad shape. Another snubs came lookin'. And all i had was a jumphole to hells know where."

Her memory of the duraglass breaking was vivid. She reminded every bit of it. Every second. Every move.

"Took the Betty to the jumphole, engines burnin'. Jumped, but somethin' went a-wire. Was probably too damaged to get through the jump successfully."

That last moment when she saw she was pregnant. Her mind jumbled. A red finger. Her head throbbing. She looked at her left hand where the Reaver R was tattooed. She then with her finger trailed the forehead of her child. Like she was softly painting something in her head.

"Got slingshot to someplace, dunno where. Betty was all ripped apart, core went full dead. I activated the pod.. And here i am."

She looked at the man, a man she knew was Coalition. Sometime ago, full fledged enemies. Now... Not certain to where she stood with them.

"What will be of Helene? And of me? There is blood of your own in my hands. Blood that must be repaid, no doubt."

Silver asked, preparing herself for whatever would come. War, Death, Kane.

For the Red Dawn.

The throbbing once again, but somewhat pleasant. A direction perhaps?